#this is shorter but i wanted to make a separate entry for this prompt and for the next one
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Previous
Day 7 of @sangyaoweek
Qinghe
Back home, it took no time to get used to everything. Hah, no. Nie Huaisang's mood was dark, he missed his friend, he hated the renewed expectations and not even his birds could cheer him up. His usual carefree demeanor was replaced by bitterness. He promised that he was going to behave more responsibly, and he would take things seriously, so he performed the tasks with spiteful determination. But he wasn't happy. Not by far.
His thoughts were constantly drifting back to Meng Yao and Jin Guangyao. He was always thinking about him, which irritated him almost as much as saber practice did, which was pretty telling. Jin Guangyao decided; Nie Huaisang had life outside of him. Then why did it feel like that the then Meng Yao made home in Nie Huaisang's thoughts?!
"I just don't understand," Nie Huaisang grunted to himself, frustration coloring his tone. âI don't know. I don't know anything at allâŚâ
His thoughts churned as he completed his tasks, his mind filled with images of Jin Guangyaoâs past, present and future struggles and the cold reception he had received in Lanling. The more he thought about it, the more it hurt. If Meng Yao had stayed with them, he would have been respected and valued. Even his Da-ge had to admit that he did a great job against the saber spirits!
Everything felt⌠off. Wrong. Empty. He didn't even have energy to complain anymore. He just wanted his friend back. (Which, admittedly, didn't sound healthy, but he didn't care. He just wished Meng Yao stayed with him.)
He could have even become his husband, if he wanted to join a family! After all, it was much better to become the husband of the heir to a clan, than to be accepted as the bastard son who wasn't even the spare.
It was frustrating. But Nie Huaisang worked on accepting it. (It was harder than saber practice with his demanding and ruthless Da-ge.)
Days turned into weeks, and Nie Huaisang's mood showed no sign of improving. He was determined to prove himself, not as the mini Nie Mingjue, but as a more competent Nie Huaisang. But no matter how hard he tried, thoughts of Jin Guangyao continued to haunt him. As he went about his duties, he couldn't shake the feeling of loss. And yet, despite his bitterness, Nie Huaisang couldn't help but hope that his friend would find a way to prove his worth, even in the hostile environment of Lanling. Nie Huaisang was sure that if there was such person, it was definitely his friend who would be able to do that. He was smart and resourceful, determined and objectively amazing.
While his emotions towards Jin Guangyao were quite distracting, the responsibilities he had been running from for his whole life seemed to be determined to drown him. Every task, every training and lesson felt like a mountain to climb. His fatherâs and brother's legacies, the clanâs expectations, and his own feeling of inadequacy all mixed into a crushing burden. He spent hours in the library, poring over ancient manuscripts, most of the time not out of genuine interest, but out of a desperate need to distract himself from his spiraling thoughts.
He attended every training session, engaged more actively in clan meetings, and tried to put his feelings behind him. He threw himself into his studies, focusing on strategy and planning, areas where he could be use. He started developing new techniques for the clan, to reduce the issues with saber cultivation, to mitigate the negative effects of their violent style.
Nie Huaisangâs transformation didnât go unnoticed. The clan members began to see him in a new light, recognizing his contributions. And while nothing was easy, and each day felt like it was a challenge to even get up from his bed, it was good to be accepted.
It was good to be recognized as Nie Huaisang.
Next
#mdzs#nie huaisang#sangyao#sangyaoweek2024#this is shorter but i wanted to make a separate entry for this prompt and for the next one#only the last two promts remain yay đĽł#hopefully i can do them tomorrow
4 notes
¡
View notes
Text
DT - Just Drunk 3/3
Description: Itâs finally your first date night with Steve, and everything starts out great. But then things start to take a drastic turn for the worst, and you are both left helplessly watching as the night crashes and burns before your very eyes. Whoever said that having best friends was a good thing, clearly lied to all of us... Masterlist HERE.
Word Count: 11,470 ish.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader.
Rating: PG. Warnings: Curse words. Awkward moments. Shitty friends.
Requested: Nah, this is just the third and final part to this mini series.
A/N: I sadly donât own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so thereâs that.
Itâs finally here!! The final part of Drunk Twitter! And my entry to @justkending milestone celebration!! My prompt will be in bold and was: âEver wanted to smack someone upside the head with a frying pan?â âCause Iâm getting that feeling right now.â CONGRATS TO YOU, LOVELY, ON YOUR 1000 FOLLOWERS MILESTONE! Hereâs to many, many more followers to come for you! You deserve the whole damn world. Oh! And HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEAUTIFUL!! I hope you had a wonderful day, locked in your house lol â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸
That was hands down the worst date that either you, or Steve, had ever been on, in your entire separate lives. And that was saying a lot, considering Steve was just over 100 years old, and you werenât exactly a spry young chicken yourself. At least when it came to the dating world, you werenât.
So why, exactly, was this date such a colossal disaster, you ask? Oh, well, let us show you it in its entirety, from start to finish. Then youâll understand exactly why, and when, it all went to hell in a handbag.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV
Tonightâs the night. After 5 days of intense mood swings, calling your friends crying and begging for pep talks, hardly getting any tasks done at work, issues with sleeping, and a few very large glasses of wineâread, just the straight bottle. No glasses were used, because we arenât about that life hereâ Itâs finally Friday night AKA your date night with Steve. Andâoh fuck, nope, no, nu uh. You canât do this. You just canât!
You flop down onto the ridiculous pile of clothes that is now your bedroom floor and try to bury yourself within it. You canât do this. You really canât. So instead, you will just burrow into these clothes and they will become your home now. Lindsey and Tyler can drop off food once a week to sustain you, and if you get an extension cord, you could totally rig up your laptop in here.
Note to self: regardless of if you stay buried in these clothes or not, you really do need to get an extension cord. They are honestly useful as fuck.
But back to the main issue at hand here, which was agreeing to this ridiculous date. That was a horrible idea! Honestly, what were you even thinking?! You know you donât take stress well, that you overthink and panic over even the smallest of upsets, but shitâwait, where was I going with this again? OH! Right! Who do you even think you are? Going on a damn date with thee Steve Rogers! The most gentlemanly, gentleman that ever gentlemaned! Shit!
And then there is you, a washed up journalist with hair that never cooperates, pores the size of Russia, andâyou swear thatâyou walk with a limp, because you are positive that one leg is just slightly shorter than the other. You swear it! On your damn life!
Okay, so maaaaaybe you are overreaching here just a tad, again. But the point still stands. You arenât special, or a superhero, or ya know, God's gift to the world. You are just you. Y/N Y/L/N. So how is it that you scored a date with thee sweetest, most down to earth, most handsome guy out there? Damn. Maybe good Karma really is a thing?âNo, no. You shake your head, vehemently. Because in that case, you would have ended up getting shit on by a bird or something, instead of going on a date with Steve..
Alright, itâs decided. You arenât going on this date. You donât deserve to go on this date. Youâll just pick up your phone and callâno! Text! Facing him...err, ya know, what your voice? Shit, doesnât matter, what does though is the fact that you having to cancel over the phone would just be way too hard, and far too heartbreaking. A text is super impersonal, but much easier. Andâhey! Donât judge us! We never claimed to be courageous! We are basically the damn cowardly lion in human form over here. So come to terms with that. Own it. Itâs a part of who we are now.
You groan, moving your arms around languidly over the insane pile of clothes beneath you, in search of your cellular communication device. The movement reminds you of making snow angels as a kid, so just for good measure you move your legs as well, and allow the random procrastinating train of thought to continue on for a few more minutes. Hoping it will calm your nerves even a little.
It obviously doesnât, but it does cause you to giggle, and locate your phone, so thatâs a win, you guess. You pick the phone up and bring it to above your face, your eyes instantly widening when you realize the time. 5:46pm. Shit! Steve is supposed to be here at 6! There is no way you can text and cancel now! Youâre willing to bet heâll be here at exactly 6, and he is probably driving as we speak, therefore he wonât even get your text till he is outside your apartment. And shit, cancelling at this point is just fucking mean. You have to go on this date now, you have no choice.
You groan loudly again as you barrel roll off the pile of clothes and awkwardly climb to your feet, heading over to the mirror to take a second look at the 15th outfit youâve tried on tonight. But before you can give it a thorough re-looking over, your phone rings abruptly and you jump, almost chucking it across the room. Man, you are clearly far too jumpy tonight, and you always have this weird desperate need to involuntarily destroy your phone. Like what even is that? Your phone continues to ring, and you quickly answer it, not even checking who is calling. âH-hello?â
âBreathe. What are you wearing?â
Lindsey, itâs Lindsey. You glance down, âdark wash jeans, a black sheer blouse, and my black ankle boot heels.â You freeze, realization and then irrational fear taking hold, as you stare back at yourself in the mirror. âOh shit, do you think Iâm too underdressed? Oh crap! I am, arenât I? I should have worn a dress! Heâs from the damn 30âs! Oh fuââ
âWoman!â Lindsey cuts you off, âjust breathe, babe, damn. You are overthinking this whole thing way too much. Your outfit is perfect, I bet you look like a freaking fox right now, and I know for a fact you will blow Steve away. So just simmer your shit a little, okay?â
You nod slowly to your reflection, realizing Lindsey canât see the action you quickly mumble. âYeah. Yeah, youâre right. Iâll be okay, I look fine, Iâm fine. Iâm breathing now. Promise.â
âVery convincing,â Lindsey snarks and you can damn near hear her rolling her eyes at you.
You are about to snark back at her, but a few light knocks on your door halt the words in your throat. Shiiiiit! Heâs here!
âFuck! Linds!â You hiss. âHeâs here! What do I do?!â
âJesus,â she sighs, exasperated, âyou get off the phone and answer the door! And then have a wonderful fucking night. Itâs that simple.â
âOkay. Okay. Youâre right, again, it sounds simple enough. I got this.â Yet the words donât sound convincing at all. At least not to your ears.
âYou do,â she reaffirms. âNow repeat after me, I look great. I will rock this damn date. I will blow him away with my looks and my interesting and funny conversation topics. Because I got this shit on lock.â
âYes, I second everything you just said. But I have to go! Bye!â You pulled the phone from your ear and are just about to hang up, when you hear.
âWait!!â Ring from the phone's speaker, and you halt from hanging up, putting the phone back to your ear.
âYes?â You question in a rushed manner, needing to get off the phone so you can answer the door and not leave Steve Rogers standing idly in your hallway for all your neighbours to see.
âCall me as soon as the date ends!! Or there will be hell to pay!â She warns. âI want all the dirty details, so donât forget a damn thing! And most of all, have fuuuuun!â She singsongs the last part.
âWill do! Bye!â You hang up quickly before she can say anything else. Was that rude? Probably. Do you care at the moment? Not in the slightest. Youâll make it up to her later.
You rush from your room, closing the door behind you so he canât catch even a small glimpse of the chaos that has become your bedroom floor. Then you make your way to your front door, pulling on your heel booties and grabbing your jacket from the back of your dining room chair before pulling it on as well. With one last look at yourself in your entryway mirror, you pull open your door and your heart damn near leaps from your chest at just the sight of him alone.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV
Finding her address took way less time than he thought it would, and once he parks he realizes just how early he is. He couldnât go up yet, could he? No, no, arriving too early is âbad formâ, as Sam had put it, and âmakes you look too eager,â as Bucky had added. Both men were not being overly helpful, at all. But then Nat had piped up, and said to ignore both guys, and the true reason you donât want to show up too early is because she probably wonât be ready, and itâs never good to rush a womanâs pre-date prepping process. So after Natâs words of wisdom replay in his mind, he decides to wait it out, and head up closer to 6. Not wanting to rush you in any way, shape, or form.
But the second the clock clicks to 5:55, he is out of the car and halfway to your apartment's front door. He is just about to buzz your number, when another resident exits the door and sees him standing there. The residents eyes widen comically upon realization that Captain America is currently standing outside their apartment, and with a few stuttered words of praise and thanks, the resident steps aside, still holding the door, and allows Steve access to the apartments lobby.
With a sincere and rushed âThank youâ, Steve makes his way into the building and up to the 4rd floor to your apartment door. He glances down at his watch and sees that itâs now 5:59, right on time, he thinks. He quickly pats down his clothes, trying to smooth them out and eradicate the wrinkles from sitting in the car for so long. And just as the clock ticks over to 6:00, he takes a deep breath, and raises his hand, knocking loudly on the fake wood door.
His super soldier ears pick up the shuffled sounds of movement and the murmur of a soft voice through the door. Though he canât make out the words, and yes, if he focused himself he probably could, but your privacy is still important to him. Even though heâs sort of taken it away from you once or twice in the past. Be it by looking at Tonyâs file on you, or constantly creeping your social media accounts. Granted, social media is you putting it out there to the world, so itâs not exactly a breach of privacy. But yet, it still made Steve feel weird and creepy for doing it, so that sort of counts, at least in his mind it doesâ
The door abruptly opening cuts off Steveâs train of thought, and then the sight now before him causes his mind to just blank. With no hopes in it recovering anytime soon, because you are breathtaking. More beautiful than the last time he saw you, and thatâs saying something because he was almost rendered speechless the first time. And this time, he is.
How the hell is he going to make it through this night, if he canât even say a word from just the sight of you, alone?! Oh hell, heâs doomed.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV
A silent moment goes by, neither one of you uttering so much as a syllable. Just both standing there, staring at each other and speechless. Finally you find your voice and drag it back from its hiding place. âUh, hi,â you wave awkwardlyâAnd woooow, clearly you only dragged a part of it back. And also, a freaking wave?!? What are you, 12? Youâd facepalm right now, if it werenât for the tall blonde standing directly in front of you currently.
Steve gives you a shy smile, and an awkward wave in return, âHi.â
Okay, so at least you arenât the only awkward one. Thatâs good, you guess. âShall we?â You ask, pointing past Steve at the empty hallway.
He nods quickly, âyeah. Yeah, letâs go.â And then he steps out of the doorway to allow you room to exit your apartment. You quickly do, turning to close and lock your door, and then you direct your attention back to the Adonis beside you, as you both begin to walk towards the stairwell door.
A silence looms over you both, you arenât exactly sure what to say, and it would appear Steve has the same sentiments. You make your way down the stairs and out your apartment buildings front door, and then you freeze. Completely. You gape at the all black car, currently parked on the curb outside your building. âIs that,â you pause, your voice barely coming out above a whisper, so you clear your throat, âis that a Mclaren P1?â You turn to look back at Steve, eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly open.
He gives you a bashful look, âit is. Iâm sorry, I was planning to bring my bike, but then Nat told me you might be wearing a dress, and that even if you werenât, the helmet would just mess up your hair,â he trails off, glancing at the car and mumbling, âSo Tony forced me into taking this ridiculous car.â
You chuckle softly and turn to look back at your dream car, sitting just 25 feet away. âNot ridiculous at all. If I ever won the lottery, thatâs the first thing Iâd buy,â you gesture to the car and then a cold sweat rips through you, and you quickly look down to inspect your clothes. Or rather, the ass of your jeans.
There is no way in hell you are getting in that car, until you are positive there isnât a single thing on your jeans that could accidentally be transferred to the seats. You could NEVER afford to replace one of those seats, they are insanely expensive and your measly junior journalist pay would not cut it. Youâd be back paying till you were old and grey. No! Longer than that, youâd have to leave your debt owing to Tony Stark in your damn Will. So that your poor children and grandchildren could continue to pay it off after youâre dead and gone. Thatâs how expensive they are.
A soft chuckle from behind you causes your eyes to flick up and realize that Steve is watching your every move. Including how you just checked your own ass out. Wonderful. Way to go, smart one!
âAh, shall we?â You ask, yet again, as clearly thatâs the only words you have in your repertoire tonight. Some journalist you are. Steve gives you a large grin, and nods, then he places his hand on your lower back and leads you towards your dream car. And if this wasnât a first date, and that wasnât Tony Stark's car, youâd have totally asked if you could drive it. But you refrain, this time.
Steve lifts up the passenger door for you,âyes, ���lifts upâ. Butterfly doors are just far too damn cool for words!â like the gentleman he is and you thank him quietly as you slip in. And the second the door is closed, your eyes excitedly bounce around the car's interior, taking in all of it as you may never get a chance to sit in a Mclaren again. And you donât want to miss or forget a single detail about this damn car.
Steve slips into the driver's seat and clicks in his seatbelt, reminding you that you should probably do the same. So you quickly click yours in as well. Then he turns to you, âyou like cars, I take it?â
âSomething like that,â you chuckle as he pushes a button to start up the car and it roars to life. Which yeah, that causes your insides to do a little happy dance of excitement at just the sound of this beast alone. âMy dad was a mechanic, and an avid supercar enthusiast. So I grew up around cars and at race tracks.â
Steve hums his acknowledgement of your words, as he pulls away from the curb. âIâm more of a bike guy, myself. But I can appreciate a beautiful car.â
You smile at him, happy that youâve both managed to get over your initial awkwardness and settled on a topic you are comfortable and knowledgeable in. âI like bikes as well, though Iâm nowhere near coordinated enough for two wheels, so I stick to four.â
He chuckles, and takes a second to glance over at you before focusing back on the road, âWell, Iâll have to take you out on my bike one day,â he pauses and then quickly adds, âIf um, if youâd be interested in that?â
You nod enthusiastically, âIâd really like that.â
You see the hint of a smile form on the side of his lips, âokay. I can make that happen.â
Then what his words actually meant hits you, and you freeze up again. Because, wait, did he just ask you on a second date?! Did he just imply that he already knows he wants a second date? Even before this one has actually started? Shit, what are you supposed to do with that information?! Thank God your frazzled and slightly slow mind hadnât clued into this until after youâd answered him. Or you could have just ended up not replying at all, and making the poor guy think you didnât want to see him again. Or that you werenât enjoying yourself so far. Which couldnât be further from the truth.
You pull your head out of your ass, and decide to ignore your insecurities and fears, and just talk to Steve. So you start asking him simple questions about himself, nothing too deep, just surface stuff, and as the car ride continues on, you find yourself relaxing more and more.
You both just talk the entire way to the restaurant and before you know it, the car is coming to a stop and Steve is climbing out and handing the valet his keys. He quickly makes his way around to your side and opens up the door before you can even attempt to get it yourself, he offers you a hand and helps you out, and yeah, that makes you swoon a little more. But just a little.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV
As he pulls open the restaurant's door for Y/N, and guides her inside, he starts to finally calm down. Thank God his implication of wanting a second date so soon into the first one, hadnât scared her off. Bucky had told him to play it aloof, leave her wanting more. Sam had told him to be cool, and to think before he spoke. And Nat had told him, once again, to ignore the guys and just be himself. If he wanted to say something to her, to just freaking say it. Be open, and honest, and not some fabricated asshole or casanova. Because that wasnât him, and girls could usually see right through that shit. So heâd once again decided to go with Natâs advice, as hers seemed the least scary. And the most realistic.
But when the words had left his mouth, heâd almost groaned and banged his head against the steering wheel. Because who the hell brings up a second date, 5 minutes into the first? That was way too eager of him, to just assume sheâd even be interested in the first place. But yet, it had worked out in his favour, because sheâd replied instantly, and excitedly, that sheâd really like that. So maybe just being himself, and saying what was in his head was the best option after all. It did score him a second date, so clearly this was going well. If he was any judge of things, that is.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV
Your eyes land on the beautiful young woman standing behind a podium, and the moment her eyes flick up and locked on you both, a large grin forms on her lips. You honestly donât know what to make of the smile, itâs not exactly one youâd have expected, and you canât place why it makes you feel so awkward.
Itâs odd for sure, but then she speaks and her voice is a polar opposite to her grin. Itâs sweet and soft, and calming. âGood evening you two, do you have a reservation? Or just looking for a table?â
âWe have a reservation, under Rogers,â Steve answers and you arenât sure if he is getting the same odd vibes as you are, maybe he is used to people reacting weirdly to his presence. Or maybe, you are just finally going fully crazy, but one glance up at the large blonde, and seeing the slight furrow of his brow, tell you that this isnât normal, or maybe he is picking up on the same weird vibes that you are. So you arenât going crazyâat least not this time, you arenât.
She nods quickly, then picks up two menus and asks you both to follow her. She leads you through the restaurant and to a back corner table. âHere you are,â she says as she places the menus down on the table. âYour waiter will be with you shortly,â she adds, and you are positive that she is trying not to laugh. But you have no idea why. So far, every moment youâve spent in this restaurant has been so damn weird. But you put that thought out of your mind as she leaves you both alone and scurries off back to her podium.
Steve helps you out of your jacket hanging it on your chair, then he pulls the chair out for you, and you thank him as you sit. He moves to sit across from you, as your eyes flick back over to the woman at the podium, and you notice she is watching you both. Clearly trying to hide that fact, but itâs pretty damn obvious. Once Steve is settled, you snap your eyes back to him, âthat was weird, wasnât it?â
He peers over his shoulder and also glances at the hostess for a second, before turning back to you. âYeah, that was odd.â
âDoes that always happen to you? Do people react to you like that all the time?â
He shakes his head, âsometimes they react, but never like that. That was a first for me.â
You nod, chuckling quietly as you pick up your menu and open it, âokay, so I wasnât the only one that thought that was weird.â
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV
âNo,â Steve chuckles as he opens his menu as well. âYou werenât.â
He has never had someone react to his presence like that, heâs had people cry, scream, and laugh uncontrollably. Hell, heâs even had a few people faint, but never has a stranger reacted like that to him before. He isnât sure what to make of the grin she gave him, it was almost like she was in on something that he wasnât. And he did not like that thought, not one bit. He pushes the thoughts from his mind, as they both take a few moments to peruse the menus quietly.
A shadow falls over the table and Steve assumes the waiter has arrived, he continues to look over the menu as they place two waters on the table and begin to speak. âGood evening, my name is,â there is a strange pause and then a very awkward sounding, âWill,â is added. âAnd Iâll be your server tonight. Can I start you both off with something to drink?â
Steve furrows his brows, because he is sure he recognizes that voice. He is 100% positive that heâs heard it many, many timesâYou have got to be kidding him!? His eyes snap up and lock onto a very familiar set of brown eyes, and then his narrow into a glare. And even with very real looking facial hair, he could spot Sam from a damn mile away. What the fuck is Sam doing here? And as his waiter, no less. And just like that, the hostessâ reaction now makes perfect freaking sense.
Steve quickly glances at Y/N, hoping she hasnât looked up just yet, seeing that she is still buried in her menu, then he flicks his eyes back to âWillâ and he narrows them. The aforementioned âwaiterâ just gives him a cheeky grin in return. âWhat are you doing here?â He mouths to his soon to be ex best friend.
âTaking your drink orders,â Sam mouths back with a âduhâ expression on his face, causing Steve's eyes to narrow even more in warning.
âIâll just take an iced tea,â Y/N pipes up and Steve shakes his head before begrudgingly saying, âand Iâll take a beer, whateverâs on tap.â
âExcellent choices,â Sam says excitedly and shoots Steve one more cheeky grin before he damn near runs away from the table. Leaving Steve feeling super confused, very irritated and entirely nervous as to just what his friendâhold that thought, he quickly glances around the restaurant, and his eyes lock on a table on the other side with three men and a woman, all in horrible disguises and he instantly knows who they are. Bucky, Tony, Clint and Natâwhat his friends, he corrects in his head, have planned. Seriously, what the hell are they doing?!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV
After ordering your drink, you finally decide which meal youâd like and then you place your menu down and glance up at Steve, curious if heâs decided yet or not. But before you can ask, you notice that he looks super out of it now. Like he is lost in thought, and he is entirely focused on something at the other side of the room. You glance over and see that he is lookingâread, glaringâat a table with a few people sitting at it. âDo you know them?â You ask quietly, as you just continue to stare at them as well.
âHmm?â He questions, âwho?â
You turn to look at him again, seeing that his focus is now back on his menu. And once again, you feel extremely weird. âThe people at that table over there,â you tip your head in itâs direction.
He looks up at you for a second, silently, before he rubs the back of his neck and glances back down at his menu. âAh, possibly. I just ah, I think I know them from somewhere, but I canât really remember exactly where.â He shrugs, âprobably from work.â
You nod, his answer seeming a little forced and awkward, but you decide to just drop it. âSo, any ideas on what youâd like to eat?â
âI was thinking the steak. It sounds delicious.â
âThatâs what I was thinking about getting as well,â you smile to yourself, realizing you both seem to enjoy the same foods. Clearly thatâs another thing you both have in common. Score!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV
His eyes continue to dart between the table with his so-called âfriendsâ and the beautiful woman across from him. He is furious at his team for crashing his date, and with each passing second he only becomes more and more angry. How could they do this to him? He was nervous enough about this date, and now they had to go and add more stress onto his already frazzled nerves.
Itâs taking everything in him not to go over there and tell them all to leave. His eyes snap back to Y/N, and he wants to smack himself for barely paying any attention to the story she is midway through telling. Here he is supposed to be learning all about her, or at least learning about her first hand, instead of only going on the outside information he learned from Tonyâs invasion of privacy folder.
And if barely paying any attention to his date, isnât bad enough, he also lied to her about the occupants of that stupid table. He knows exactly who they are, but in a split second decision, he chooses to not inform Y/N of that. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel uncomfortable in any way. And his nosy friends crashing their date to spy on them, yeah, that makes him uncomfortable and he knows them. He canât imagine how sheâd react to this all, so he decided to keep their presence to himself. At least until he figures out exactly what they have planned, and why the hell they thought it was a good idea to crash his date.
He vows right then and there to tell her about his shitty friends once they leave the restaurant, and apologize for his white lie at that point. But that doesnât really relieve his guilt over all of this, nor his stress.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV
Itâs not hard to tell Steve is distracted by something, and youâd have to be blind to not notice him constantly glancing over at that table. To his credit, he is doing a pretty good job at hiding his immense interest in the four occupants, but you still noticed.
And maybe that has something to do with the fact that youâve been talking about Eggo waffles and Oreos for the last 5 minutes, having ran on a hunch that he wasnât really paying attention to you, and that hunch having turned out to be correct.
So here you are, telling him all your favourite flavours of Oreo, and describing exactly how you eat them. You are curious just how long it will take him to clue in and question you on your current conversation topic. So far, the timer just passed 5 minutes and is still going strong.
You have no idea who the people at that table are, but you figured Steve would tell you if you had anything to worry about. And since he hadnât yet, you were trying to ignore the small pang of fear that they were bad people, hell-bent on hurting him, you, or both. He did deal with lots of bad, bad people in his line of work though. Or rather, he pissed off a lot of them. So you could only imagine how many wanted to cause him harm, or the people around himâBut we arenât focusing on that at the moment. One issue at a time here.
The waiter returns to drop off your drinks and take your food orders, and you donât miss the small glare Steve sends him, which yeah, thatâs fucking odd as well. You have no idea what this waiter did to him, but you can only assume it probably has something to do with the table of four. Maybe the waiter is a baddy as well?âShit, if that is the case, then they have you both surrounded.
And what if they poison the food? Oh God! Maybe you should fake a tummy ache and see if Steve will take you home early? Ya know, just to be safeâyou shake your head gently. Donât be silly, like you already thought, if anything was wrong or if you were in any danger, Steve would have told you. Or at least made sure to protect you, he was a freaking superhero after allâ
âOreos?â He asks finally, the cutest furrow in his brows at his confusion on the current topic. The one youâd picked right back up the second the waiter walked away.
And you chuckle, that only took him 10 minutes. Not bad. But not really great either, you guess. âI like Oreos,â you shrug, trying to act casual. âSo tell me a little about yourself. What kinds of sweets does Steve like?â
He chuckles, âI guess Oreos are pretty good, Iâm also a fan of them. But my all time favourite are Reeseâs peanut butter cups.â
âReally?â You ask leaning forward on your hand with your elbows on the table, genuinely intrigued by his choice in chocolate.
âYeah,â he chuckles again. âWhen I woke up from the ice, I was really surprised to see that Reeseâs were still around. I remember when they first started selling them, or at least when I first started buying them, back in the early 30âs. Though they were sold individually back then, and at only 2 cents a piece,â he chuckles a little more, shaking his head as he does. âIt still boggles my mind how much has changed since then, but yet, some things have stayed exactly the same.â
âI canât even imagine,â you say honestly, âwhat else has stayed the same?â And just as he starts to tell you a few other things, your eyes catch movement behind him and you glance towards it. Seeing an older woman sitting at a table, one away from yours, and facing you. With what looks like an older man sitting across from her, but you can only see the back of his head. But then you notice that she is looking down at the phone in her hands, intently, as itâs raised up in the air, above her table. What is that woman even doing? Is sheâis she taking freaking pictures of you!?
Your eyes focus in on the phone in question andâwait a fucking second! Is that a damn cat DJing a pizza, in space?! You audibly gasp, as your eyes snap back up to lock on the âold ladiesâ, who is now looking at you and then yours narrow, accusingly. And at least the woman has the good sense to avert her eyes, quickly, but the damage has been done. So you then assess the back of the âold mansâ head, and come to an unwavering realization.
âAre you okay?â
âHmm?â You flick your eyes back to Steveâs. âOh, yeah. Yep. Iâm just dandy,â your eyes again lock on the stupid âold womanâ. âI just have to use the ladies room, Iâll be right back.â You abruptly stand, barely getting the words out before you quickly run away from your table. You glance back to make sure Steve isnât watching and then forcefully yank the âoldâ woman and man from their spots and drag them to the bathrooms with you. Not giving them a moment to protest.
Then the moment the door shuts you whirl around on them, grabbing the womanâs grey hair and pulling on it, leaving you holding a wig in your hands and glaring daggers at your, so called, best friends. If you werenât so angry right now, youâd have commented on this being a wig snatching great time. But you're furious. Fuming, even.
âI really shouldnât be in here,â Tyler points out unhelpfully.
âOh please,â you scoff, âIâm more likely to check out the women in this bathroom than you are.â
He presses his lips together, nodding in agreement but he is smart enough to keep his lips zipped. Your eyes move over to glare menacingly at Lindsey.
âLook, we can explain,â she puts her hands up in submission.
âI sure fucking hope so,â you scold, crossing your arms like a pissed off parent. âWell, letâs hear it then. Come on, out with it. What could have possibly possessed you both to crash my date? Hmm?â
âIt was his idea,â Lindsey points to Tyler, at the same time he points to her, âit was her idea.â
They both gasp, scandalized, and glare at each other. âLiar!â They say in unison. Another gasp from both, âI am not!â and again, in unison.
You feel like they rehearsed this, they had to have. And if, by the off chance that they didnât, then they clearly share the same wave link. And obviously a dumb one, at that.
âOkay, whoeverâs idea it was aside,â you wave a dismissive hand around. âYou both not only agreed to crash my date, but followed through with that stupid plan. So how I see it, you are both at fault here.â You sigh, some of the wind in your sails vanishing, ânow, the real question is what the hell guys?â You shift your eyes between the two, âyou both knew how excited and nervous I was for this date, how could you think this was a smart idea? The last thing I needed was more stress added into the mix. And the fear of Steve realizing you are both here, now that adds a lot of unnecessary stress onto me.â
âSorry,â they both mumble with their heads down, like scolded children. And you believe you are getting through to these two knuckleheads. Buuuuuut then Tyler has to go and ruin it, âbut it was actually Lindsey's idea, just to clarify.â
Linds jerks her head up and glares at him, âit was âourâ idea, traitor!â She hisses out. And just like that, they are back to bickering again.
You groan loudly and clench your eyes shut, taking a deep calming breath before you intervene, âokay, enough!â They both snap their mouths shut and turn to you. âI donât have time to stand here and listen to you both argue. Unless you forgot, Iâm sort of supposed to be on a date right now, and Iâve now been standing in the womenâs bathroom for an entirely too long amount of time. Steveâs going to think I encountered a damn basilisk or something,â you sigh, shaking your head.
âDo you think heâd even understand that reference?â Tyler asks the room, then turns to Lindsey, âdo you think anyones shown him those movies yet?â
Lindsey gives him an odd look, âof course heâs seen them. They are a huge part of this generation, there is no way that no one in his life has shown him the Potter franchise yet.â
Tyler nods slowly, âunless his friends all suck, I guess.â
âVery valid point, Tyââ Linds starts but you cut in.
âNot important at the moment, guys,â you say as you uncross your arms and point a menacing finger at them. âNow, Iâd ask you both to leave, but I know you wonât listen to me. So instead, Iâll ask that since you both are hell-bent on crashing my date, the least you could do is not be so damn obvious about it. Please, no more photos, and for the love of God, do not let Steve know you both are here, got it?â
âGot it,â they both mumble. Then Tyler quietly says, you think mainly to himself, âbut Harry Potter is always important.â
You ignore his comment and walk passed both of them and exit the bathroom, not having anything else to say to either of them. Because honestly, it would just be a waste of time, those two do exactly what they want, no matter what you say or how you reason with them. So there isnât even a point in wasting the breath at the moment. They will stay and lurk on you and Steve either way. However, you honestly wouldnât change either of them for the world. They may frustrate the hell out of you, but you get them back all the time. Itâs a 50/50 thing, for sure.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV
The moment she is up from the table and has walked off, he pulls out his phone and brings up the group chat to fire off a message. âWhat the hell are you guys doing here?â
His eyes flick up to watch his friends, as they each pull out their phones and read his text. Then they all look over at him and give him their best innocent smiles, and then his phone vibrates with a message and he glances down to see itâs from Tony. âWe are just here for dinner, such a coincidence that we happened to pick the same restaurant as you two.â
Steve shoots Tony a glare before checking that Y/N isnât in sight and standing up to stomp over to their table. âOh yeah? Just getting dinner, hey? Then whatâs with the get ups,â he flicks the obviously fake wig on Buckyâs head, causing the Jerk to swat his hand away just as he continues on to hiss out, âand why the hell is Sam our waiter?â
âLook, Steve,â Nat starts and his heated glare snaps to her, causing her to put her hands up in surrender. âI had no hand in this idiotic plan, it was entirely their idea,â she points at Bucky and Tony, causing the latter to gasp and the former toâwell, to look pretty fucking guilty, if you ask Steve. But she just turns back to Steve and continues on, âI only chose to join them to make sure they didnât fuck your date up too badly.â Then Clint pipes up, also putting his hands up in surrender, âand Iâm just here for the food.â
âTraitors,â Tony accuses in a hissed whisper.
Clint just shrugs, and Nat looks at Tony and crosses her arms, âyou can call me whatever you like, Tony. But I refuse to get on Steveâs bad side because of your stupid ideas. No fucking thank you, thatâs a bullet I wonât take for you.â
Tony shoots her one last glare before correcting his features and turning to Steve, clearly trying to salvage the situation. âWe just wanted to be here for moral support. In case you needed any backup. Isnât that right, Manchurian Candidate,â he elbows Bucky for support, but the Jerk knows that no matter what they say, Steve will be pissed. So best to keep his mouth shut for now, which is blatantly obvious by the way he presses his lips together and refuses to look at Steve.
âBullshit,â Steve says as he crosses his arms. âYour choice to be here has nothing to do with backing me up, but I donât have time to stand here and argue with you. Iâm supposed to be on a fucking date and I can barely focus on Y/N with you assholes sitting here. So eat your food and get out, we will talk when I get back to the tower,â he says that last part like a threat. They are so fucking in for it when he gets home, and he wants them all to know it. âAnd tell Sam to let a real waiter take over, I dunno who you all bribed to let you pull this shit, but if a real waiter isnât the next person to approach my damn table, Iâll be even more pissed off,â then with that said, he spins on his heel and quickly makes his way back to the table. Glad that Y/N hasnât come out of the bathroom just yet, so she didnât see him scolding the table of assholes.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV
You quickly make your way back to the table, seeing Steve sitting by himself and feel like an asshole for taking so long, scolding your shit ass friends. You quickly retake your seat and feel the need to apologize. âSorry that took so long,â you pause, because what the hell excuse are you supposed to use!? Shit, you should have thought about this before you sat back down! âAh, just as I was washing my hands, my um, my mom called.â Shit, that was a horrible excuse. What is wrong with you?!
âOh?â Steve asks hesitantly, âis everything okay?â
âOh yes, yeah,â you nod quickly. Maybe too quickly but no taking it back now. âShe just forgot I had a date tonight, I told her Iâd call her back later.â
He seems to give you an odd look for a moment, before finally nodding and glancing around the restaurant. âDoes it feel like the food is taking a really long time, or is it just me?â
You glance around as well, not seeing a single waiter or waitress in sight, âno, itâs not just you. I think we ordered like 30 minutes ago, maybe?â
He nods, âyeah, something like that.â
âIâm sure it wonât be much longer,â you comment, trying to be positive. âAnd it just means we get more time to talk.â
He smiles at you, âwell, in that case, letâs hope the food never comes.â
And swooooon. You couldnât not swoon over his words even if you tried. You give him a grin, and you know for a fact that itâs probably the biggest, goofiest thing heâs ever seen, but you canât help it. âFingers crossed,â you trail off from starting a new conversation as you see your, so called, friends doing the walk of shame from the bathroom and retaking their seats at their table. And before you can stop yourself, the words are already leaving your mouth, unfiltered. âEver wanted to smack someone upside the head with a frying pan?â You abruptly ask, and then mumble out, âCause Iâm getting that feeling right about now.â
Steve snorts and you realize he was mid sip of his beer when you asked, and you watch as he quickly gulps down his mouthful, before his eyes flick over to the table of four for a second, then snap back to you. âAll the time, actually.â
You give the table an inconspicuous side eye, and notice there are actually now five people sitting around it. So they have clearly gained another occupant, you see. And, thatâs neat. Glad to see the baddies are growing in number. Excellent. Just freaking excellent. This night is not going to plan, not one fucking bit. And seriously, where the hell is your food!?
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV
He glances down at the watch on his wrist and sees that itâs now, 7:27. Their reservation had been for 6:30, and so they have now been waiting on their food for at least 40 minutes. He is willing to bet that his âfriendsâ have something to do with why their food is taking so long, just another thing he will scold them all for later.
And the longer the food takes, the more intense of a scolding theyâll get. Mark his words now, this will be the last time they ever pull a stunt like this on him or anyone, ever again. Heâll make sure of it.
âSorry for the delay,â a new voice chimes in from about them, and Steve glances up to see his first unfamiliar face since the hostess. âAh, Will had a um, an emergency, so my name is Kyle, Iâll be taking over for him.â He places two new drinks down to replace the now two empty ones. âThese drinks are on the house, as an apology for the wait. But it shouldnât be too much longer for your food to be ready.â
Y/N thanks the newâactualâwaiter, and Steve just nods, a small triumphant smile on his face as he glances over at the table, to see Sam now sitting with the others. Good, at least they can still follow orders, that will win them some points with him tonight.
The new waiterâKyleâscurries off back to the kitchen door and Steve turns his attention back to Y/N. âDid you have a better time at work, this week?â He asks, genuinely curious how this recent week went, since he was more than aware that her last week hadnât been very fun for her. Heâd been meaning to ask about how she was doing with the media and the new popularity all night, as he had worried all week about her.
And just as she started to tell him all about her week, he lifts up his fresh beer and takes a very generous gulp. Only for the fact that as a super soldier, Steve canât get drunk. At least not off regular beer. Though he furrows his brows once the cold liquid slides down his throat, becauseâdoes this taste different than the last beer he had? Wouldnât they give him the same one heâd ordered before?
He internally shrugs, maybe they just ran out of the other beer so they gave him this one instead. Itâs no big deal, he really likes the taste of this new one, and it was free. If there is anything Steveâs learned since waking up from the ice in this newâand expensiveâera, itâs that you should never ever pass up free things. So heâll drink it either way, even if just for that simple fact alone.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV
After a few more minutes of just talking about both of your weeks, the waiter returns and finally places your food on the table in front of you. And not a moment too late, you were seriously beginning to weigh the pros and cons of cannibalismâOkay, maybe you were going that extreme yet, but you were getting pretty dang hungry for sure.
You and Steve donât waste a second, and both cease the conversations as you start to eat your respective meals, as the waiter scurries off to wherever waiters go while the patrons eat. Probably to check on the other customers. Your eyes drift back to the table of foâfive now, and you see them all eating their food now as well. So you allow yourself a moment to just breathe, and eat, and pretend like that table still isnât worrying you. A lot.
After another few moments, and most of both your plates now empty, you see that Steve has finished his beer. But you only make that observation because he accidentally slams the glass down on the table, not breaking the glass, but the look he gives it after the loud clanking bang, leads you to believe he didnât mean to be that forceful with it.
Your eyes flick up to his face, and you see he is a little flushed now, his eyes a little bloodshot andâwait, is he drunk?
âThis food was amazing!â He damn near yells, and yep, yeah, you believe he is in fact drunk. Oh lordy, this should be fun..
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV
Something isnât right. He donât feel ..right. He glances around the room, but quickly halts his eyes when he feels like the room is rocking. Spinning almost and that makes his stomach do somersaults. His eyes look down to his now empty glass, his brows furrowing, he canât get drunk. But yet, he feels drunk. He feels just like he did that day Thor let him try the Asgardian meadâhis eyes snap over to the table of his âfriendsâ and it instantly hits himâThe beer didnât taste weird because it was different, it tasted weird because they freaking spiked his drink.
Oh, they are so going to pay for this one. He huffs, as he attempts to glare holes in the sides of his âfriendsâ heads. They are all making a point to not look his way, they know they're in shit now. The fuckersâ
âWhoâs going to pay?â
Steveâs eyes widen as they flick back over to meet Y/Nâs. Shit, did he say that out loud?! And before he can even attempt to come up with a quick cover up, his lips are moving and spilling the truth, much to his surprise and dismay. âMy horrible friends,â he manages to get a hold of his lips before he says anything more, he presses them together in an effort to keep the rest of his words in. However, the adorable confused expression now on Y/Nâs face makes him smile, and he is sure he looks like a crazy person at the moment. But honestly, he doesnât really care at the moment. Maybe he will later, but not right now. âYouâre adorable when you frown,â he chuckles.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV
You were still trying to figure out what he meant by âhis horrible friends with pay for thisâ, but then he has to go and say youâre adorable and that halted all your thoughts, immediately. Damn, who knew you were so weak to compliments. Once again, some journalist you are. GeeshâFocus woman! Your eyes drift back to the table of five, and you give them a more thorough looking over andâholy fuck, is that Bucky Barnes. Wait, wait, wait, and Tony Stark. AND Natasha Romanov. Oh shit, and Clint Barton. And freaking SAM WILSON! Hold up, Sam looks exactly like your last waiter, Will.
And oooooh, it all makes so much sense now. You burst out laughing at the realization that not just your shitty friends crashed this date, Steveâs did too. Oh God, this is just too damn good. âSteve?â You ask softly, bringing his attention back to you. Heâd been inspecting the table, as if to make sure it was structurally sound.
âYeah?â He asks, sounding slightly out of it.
âQuestion?âerr, actually maybe two questions,â you hastily amend and he chuckles.
âOkay,â he nods, a little too quickly, and hiccups as he speaks his next words, âW-what are they?â
âIs that your team over there?â You nod with your head towards the table of five, but keep your eyes fixated on the large blonde.
He scrunches up his face and opens his mouth to speak, but then sighs deeply and lowers his eyes to the table, then mumbles âyeah, it is.â But then as if it just hit him in the face, he snaps his head up and starts speaking again, a little louder this timeâread, damn near yelling again. âIâm so sorry, Y/N. I had no idea they were going to be hereââ
You cut him off with your laugh, and he furrows his brows, his mouth still open as he clearly tries to figure out whatâs so funny. You try valiantly to reign in your laugh, but this is all just too damn hilarious. âY/N?â He asks hesitantly, confusion in his voice.
And you realize you have to say something, anything, so between laboured breaths and chuckles to manage to spit out in a whisper, âsee the old couple behind you, a table away?â
Steveâs lips form a frown and he glances over his shoulder, not even remotely in a graceful manner. Then his whips back around and nods at you, âyeah,â he says slowly.
âThose two âold peopleâ,â you make quote signs with your fingers, âare my two idiot best friends in disguise. They also crashed our date,â and those words make you laugh all over again at this whole weird situation. Your words clearly take a second to sink in, but as if a light just lit up, Steveâs frown disappears and he starts to laugh with you. Louder than you, actually. And so loud that it draws the attention of everyone in the rest restaurant, including both tables of your date crashing friends. Every last one of them.
âYouâre joking?â He manages to say between boisterous laughs. You shake your head as you say, ânot even a little bit.â
He laughs a little more, shaking his head as well. âThat is too funny.â
You nod, agreeing with him, âthat it is. Looks like both our friends are,â you raise your voice so all the people in question can hear you clearly, ânosey assholes.â Though your words are more directed at your two best friends, but maybe also a little at Steveâs. And one quick glance at both tables, and the scandalized expressions around both causes you to burst out laughing again. After a few moments, you both manage to calm down a little, enough to speak again at least. You quickly rub the tears from your eyes, as Steve takes a few deep breaths. Then you think of something, âand here I thought my friends were invasive. At least they didnât fake being our waiter,â you giggle.
Steve groans, then chuckles a little more, âwere you really surprised theyâd go to that length? They did sort of force you to goto that press conference.â
âOh shit,â you chuckle a little more, âI didnât even think of that!â
âYeah,â Steve shakes his head, âthey are always sticking their noses in other people's lives. Itâs rather frustrating,â he mumbles the last part, and you believe more so to himself.
âWait,â Steve abruptly says, âyou said you had two questions?â
You grin, nodding slowly as your second question pops back up into your head. Though youâre going to amend it a little. You were going to ask if he was drunk, but you're positive now that he is. So your question is a little changed, âso Iâm guessing they spiked your drink, which means you canât drive?â
âShit,â Steve mumbles as his face pales and all the humour leaves his features. âIâm so sorry, Y/N, I can call you a cab, if you want? Iâll pay for it.â
âNo,â a sly grin works its way onto your lips. âI have a better idea.â You stand up from the table and Steve slowly stands as well. Though you can see his very evident wobble from the booze. âCome with me,â you gesture for him to join you, offer him your hand for what little support you can give him. Ya know, since he is much larger than yourself, and if he starts to go down, you wonât be able to save him. But the gesture is what matters, right?
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV
He is feeling the full effects of the mead as he stands, wobbling a little before quickly gaining his balance. If he falls flat on his face in front of her, he will be out for blood. She offers him her hand and he glances down at the outstretched appendage, then almost laughs. If he does go down, there is no way in hell sheâll be able to stop him, and heâll just end up taking her down with him. But the chance to hold her hand, canât be passed up, even in Steveâs mead muddled mind, he knows that fact clear as day.
He smiles and takes her hand, allowing her to lead the way and he quickly realizes where she is taking them. And the slightly panicked eyes of his friends makes him chuckle again. They reach the table of five, and Steve gives a curious look to Y/N, unsure where exactly she is going to take this. But he isnât gonna lie, heâs excited to see what her master plan is.
âAvengers,â she nods in hello and smiles at each of them.
His friends all give each other strange, nervous looks before Tony speaks up, âY/N,â he nods then looks at Steve. âSteve.â Before his eyes move back to the little woman holding Steve's hand tightly. âI see youâve figured us out,â he chuckles awkwardly.
âThat I have,â she giggles, âwasnât too hard, once you spiked Steveâs drink.â
âThat was Samâs doing,â Tony quickly says, earning a gasp from the aforementioned.
âIt might have been my doing, but it was Tonyâs idea,â Sam quickly defends, pointing a menacing finger at the billionaire. Ugh, here we go again, Steve thinks.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV
Tony is just about to speak, but you cut in before he can. You arenât interested in their bickering about who did what, and whoâs behind this whole thing. You got enough of that from your own friends. âItâs okay, we arenât mad,â you glance up at Steve, and see him about to refute your words, but one pointed look from you and he presses his lips together and nods in agreement.
âWe arenât,â he mumbles, the words not sounding overly convincing but itâs the thought that counts.
You bite your lip to prevent the new laugh from escaping. âBut,â you abruptly say, âthere are conditions to us not being upset.â
And Tony clearly tries to fight the grin that wants to show through, as he narrows his eyes at you, âand those are?â
âOur bill still needs to be paid,â you say calmly, commandingly so that Tony is aware you mean he will be paying it. And as you speak you are fighting to not look too excited for your next words. Tony nods slowly, hesitantly, and says, âokay, and?â
Your grin breaks through, and you see Tony shiver from the smug smile. âSince Steve is unable to drive currently, I will be driving him home and will return your car to you in the morningââ. Tony cuts in, âwhat? No, no, that doesnât seemââ. âTony,â Steve cuts in this time, sternly, clearly trying not to laugh.
âYou all were the ones who crashed our date and spiked his drink,â you say, âtherefore, hindering him from being able to drive. So these are the consequences, Iâve driven supercars before, so you donât have to worry about that.â
Tony doesnât seem convinced, at all, but everyone else at the table seems highly amused by all of this. âI think itâs only fair,â Nat pipes up, a smug grin on her face to match yours. âI agree with Nat,â Clint mumbles through his mouthful of food. Tony shoots them both a glare, then sighs, âfine, you can take the car for the night.â
And you are just about to squeal and jump up and down, when he abruptly adds, âbut,â he points a finger at you then at Steve, âif there is so much as a single scratch on it tomorrow, Steve is covering the repair bill.â
Steve gives you a look, one that screams ânow just wait one second, letâs talk about this a little firstâ But you just ignore him, and nod at Tony, âDeal.â And before Steve can say a word, you begin to drag him away from the table, hearing Tony chuckle and say quietly, âI like that one,â to the others. Which only causes your smile to grow as you continue to pull Steve towards the front door of the restaurant.
As you both stand on the sidewalk, waiting for the valet to bring the car around and you are vibrating with excitement! This is your damn dream car and you GET TO DRIVE IT! Aaaaah! Shit!! Is this real life?!âA deep chuckle from beside you, causes you to come back to reality, and you glance up at the tall blonde. This day has been the weirdest one in your entire life, not only did you get to go on a date with thee Steve Rogers, but now you get to drive your dream car?! This is all just too much! Too damn much! But in all the best ways. âSorry,â you smile bashfully up at him, as you tuck a few wayward strands of hair behind your ear, âIâm a little excited.â
âI can see that,â he nods, a glorious smile playing on his own lips. Just as you are about to speak, the beautiful sound of the supercars exhaust can be heard coming towards you, and before you know it, the Mclaren P1 is directly in front of you. In all itâs shiny black glory, and you are sure youâre dreaming. You have to be. Either that, or youâre drooling.
The valet goes to hand the keys to Steve, but you intervene and take them before he can, and then you get an idea. You quickly unlock the car and open up the door for Steve, who gives you an odd look, so you say with a shrug, âitâs my turn to be the gentleman.â
Which causes him to chuckle and hesitantly slip into the passenger seat then you close the door and make your way around to the driver's seat.
And before you know it, you are pulling up out front of the Avengers Tower. Steve had told you on the drive that he normally lives out at the compound now, but still has a room at the tower and stays there from time to time.
You shut the car off and quickly gesture for him to wait, receiving another odd look from the blonde. You quickly get out of the car and race around to open his door, you are determined to be the âgentlemanâ this time. Steve deserves as much.
He chuckles again as he clues into what youâre doing, then climbs out of the car and you begin to walk him up to the tower's front doors.
Once you both reach the doors, you halt your steps and turn to him, he does the same but in reverse, halting and turning towards you.
âI hadââ. âThank youââ. You both speak at the same time and laugh, then he says, âIâm sorry, go ahead.â
âI just wanted to say I had a wonderful time tonight.â
âEven with our friends crashing the date?â He asks, one brow raised.
You giggle, âyes, even with that. It made for a very memorable first date.â
âThat it did,â Steve nods. âAnd I just wanted to say thank you, for not only going out with me, but for putting up with my shitty friends.â
You wave it off, âthey arenât so bad. I think it was rather sweet that all of our friends crashed our date. Really shows how much they care, even in their own weird ways.â
He nods again, as he glances down at the ground, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, âwould you be interested in doing this again sometime?â
You grin brightly, you couldnât stop it even if you tried. âNo, I wouldnât be interested in doing this again.â Before you can finish your sentence, Steve's head snaps up and he gives you one of thee saddest looks youâve ever seen in your life. âJust wait,â you giggle, putting your hands up to halt him, âlet me finish. But yes, Iâd love to go on another date with you, preferably one without our friends being present.â
His frown morphs into a brilliant grin, âyes, no friends on the next one for sure.â
âOkay, well I should get home,â you say reluctantly, âbut Iâll call you in the morning before I head over to drop the car off, and maybe we can do coffee and a walk? Just the two of us?â
âIâd love that,â he nods. âAnd yes, just the two of us.â
âPerfect,â you smile, and lean up to plant a kiss on his check, but at the last second you change course and lightly place your lips upon his. And just as you are about to pull back, his arms move around your waist and pull you into him as he deepens the kiss.
Which yeah, you fucking swoon at that too, and if he were to let go of you right now, youâd melt into the sidewalk. Youâd become a human puddle.
But luckily for you, he doesnât release you right away and you both drown in each other for a few moments before you reluctantly pull back and he does that same. âGoodnight, Steve,â you say softly, breathlessly as you take a step back.
âGoodnight, Y/N. See you in the morning.â
You smile, âsee ya then.â You turn and head back towards the car, a skip in your step that you know Steve can clearly see, but you donât care. You are too happy right now, for a bunch of different reasons.
You glance towards him as you pull up the driver's door and see he is still standing there, watching you, and your tummy does flips. You wave, receiving one in return, then climb into the supercar and close the door.
The whole drive home you canât wipe the grin off your lips, no matter how hard you try. So maybe you were a little over dramatic in the beginning of this story, maybe you made this night out to be a lot worse than it actually was. Because it wasnât the worst date youâd ever been on, not by a long shot. It was actually the best, if youâre being honest.
This all started with you being a Drunk Twitter tweeter, and ended with Steve being, well, being Just Drunk honestly. But you wouldnât change a damn thing, not one second, because even the bad moments all lead up to this glorious one. The start of something so, so special.
And now you have a coffee date with Steve in the morning, andâif you have any say in the matterâmany, many more dates to come. This is just the beginning, and you can not wait to see where this all ends up. But something deep, deep down is telling you, that youâre going to love the journey to the end. More than anything, because youâll get to make that journey beside Steve. And honestly, what more could a woman want than that? Nothing, thatâs what.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
@caps-lockdown @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @tfandtws @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts @strawberry-gothchild @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @starrystellars @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies @cuffski @icesoccerer @alwaysright4 @lilsthethrills @steeeeverogers @zombiepotterfour @mu-mu-rs @ledandan1244 @straightforwardly @denzmallows @xremember-me-notx @gwynethjodie @lollipopdomination @capstopavenger @jemimah-b99 @rcvenqers @justkending @alagalaska @silent-loucidity @sabertooth-potato @pies-wands-and-more @interstellarmess @gabriella69816 @phantom-soilder @wordlesscaptain @captain-hammer-of-asgard @starstucknature @viarogers @pixieferry @kaithezaftig @the-kinkiest-goblin @hysterically-original @badassbeckettswan @heyiamthatbitch @zlixlle @capsicledoll @givemehopenfandoms @pretendingandpreposterous @frozen-phoenix17 @emotionallysalty @saturngirlz @atomicsludgedonutbiscuit @ivannagotthebeat @bohemian-barbie @marvelous-capsicle @steverogersxreader @cjhorseback @jasminecalia @secondstar2disney @jessiedaeum @betsynodak @capricornprince118 @just-ladyme @pinkleopardss @drayshadow @sister-of-stars @wiserebelpartypie @dark-night-sky-99 @patzammit @cs-please @troublermalik @bratstopmom @anika-ann @wxstedhexrt @rynabarnesrogers @ab-baybay @scentedsongrebel @captainchrisstan @kelbabyblue @fckdeusername @murdermornings @dreamlesswonder86
#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers au#steve rogers x reader#marvel au#marvel fanfiction#Drunk Twitter#part 3#Just Drunk#au fanfiction#fanfiction#steve rogers#justkendingwritingchallenge
256 notes
¡
View notes
Note
for the dadwc, fenders + 48 from the dialogue prompts? đĽşđđâ¤ď¸
Ah what a brilliant prompt, thank you!!
(If youâd like me to write you a dragon age fic, send me a prompt from here!)
@dadrunkwriting
Pairing: Anders/Fenris
Characters: Anders, Fenris
Tags: da2 adjacent, pre-relationship, boys figuring out their feelings, idiots in love, brief reference to implied sexual assault
Rating: Mature
*
âYou know, considering the fact that weâre in all likelihood buried alive and doomed to die beneath several thousands tonnes of blighted stone, you might as well tell me why you refuse to do anything but look down at your nose at me.â Anders is trying very hard not to panic. Itâs been a week since Bartrand had trapped he, Hawke, Varric and the moody elf in front of him in the Deep Roads. Itâs been about three hours since he and Fenris had been separated from Varric and Marian by a rock wraith. The spell wisp above his head is blind and bright as a firefly, but itâs not doing to much to chase away the heavier shadows from the stone corridors, or the incontrovertible knowledge of the mountain that sits above his head.
Anders almost thinks heâd take the itching whisper of darkspawn in his head over the rising, clawing panic of his own idiotic claustrophobia. Almost.
One way or another, heâs in need of a distraction. The elf in question, appropriately enough, glares down his nose at him: a feat which Anders thinks is especially impressive given that Fenris is about a foot shorter than he is. Around them, the air is dusty and still and unnaturally warm.
âFor what purpose are you asking, mage?â
Their footsteps echo as they walk, glancing off the sharp cut edges of the finely carved stone halls around them. Anders shrugs, sweating palm tightening around the rough wood of his staff. âWorld peace?â
Fenris huffs, glancing in both directions at an intersection before promptly going left. Anders thinks it says something about the weight of panic pressing against his chest that he doesnât even bother to argue. Fenris doesnât look at him when he replies. âSo this is more of your inanity, then.â
âAre you sure that Trade isnât your first language?â Anders asks, only half joking, as he hurries after him. Fenris is distracted when he answers him, and itâs difficult to tell in the darkness of the tunnels, but for a moment Anders almost thinks heâs blushing.Â
âConsidering that I remember nothing of my life before my entry into Danariusâ service, no.â From far off, thereâs a trilling shriek of the kind that populates every sane personâs nightmares. Both Fenris and Anders still, for a moment, listening. Thereâs the skittering sound of a dozen feet, or claws, or tails, shivering against the stone. Slowly, the echo fades.Â
In silent agreement, both Fenris and Anders turn in the opposite direction to the creature. As they walk, Anders tries to get a good look at Fenrisâ expression. The lyrium on his body is glowing dully, though whether the phenomenon is deliberate on Fenrisâ part or simply a natural luminescence in the dark, Anders isnât sure. For a moment, silence falls heavily down over their heads, almost drowning out the muffled shuffle of their footsteps.
(There are footsteps in the corridor. And thatâs good. Itâs good, because itâll hurt, and heâll scream, but at least thatâll break the blighted quiet.)
âSeriously though,â Anders says, loudly, and ignores Fenrisâ glare at what he is sure the elf would like to tell him is a volume thatâs practically begging the creatures of the Deep Roads to eat them alive, âWhy do you hate me so much?â
Fenris snorts, swinging his greatsword from his back with breathtaking ease and poking at a thick veil of web hanging from the ceiling above them. âYou mean apart from the obvious?â
Anders frowns, following Fenris carefully, eyes scanning the ceiling carefully for errant giant spiders. The things could move far more quietly than what Anders considered sporting. He feels magic thrumming through his veins in response to his rising anxiety, and the gentle, cool presence of Justice at the back of his head, keeping him steady.
âItâs not just that Iâm a mage. You donât look at Merrill the way you look at me.â
Fenris does not turn around. In the dark, his hair is white as snow and almost bright against the shadows. Seemingly without thinking, he lifts veil of web for Anders. Anders ducks almost double to pass under it. âMerrill is not human.â Fenris points out, mildly.
Anders rolls his eyes. âBethany, then.â
He barely has the soft sound of skittering feet on stone to warn him before the spider is upon him. Fenris dispatches it easily in one great sweeping arc of his sword. The creatureâs body falls in two heavy thumps with a hiss on either side of Andersâ torso as Fenris sheaths his sword. Anders stares, magic still clinging uselessly to his fingers. Fenris smirks at him, and turns away, walking further down the tunnel. âI told you before. She is strong. You are not.â
Anders scowls as real anger rises in him in a bright flush of heat that almost washes away the shivering nerves of his anxiety. âThatâs bullshit and you know it.â
As if on cue, another spider drips down from the high ceiling above Fenrisâ head. Andersâ doesnât think. He freezes the thing solid, and follows up with a heavy crack against its bulbous body, electricity shivering from his staff as he does so, shattering it into a thousand pieces. Fenris steps back, shaking chunks of spider out of his hair. Breathless, Anders stares at him in the thick white cloud of dispersing mist, shot through with jumping arcs of electricity.Â
âTell me the truth.â
An expression crosses Fenrisâ face then, and itâs one that Anders isnât sure heâs ever seen before. Itâs certainly one thatâs never been meant for him. At the back of his mind, Anders feels Justice rising, drawn to the look of hopelessness on Fenrisâ features, driven by the desire to comfort, and fight, and make amends. After a long moment, Fenris shrugs, and the mist disappears into the stone around them. âYou make me want things that I cannot have.â
Fenrisâ voice is a rough, low whisper. Then he turns and walks quickly away. For a moment, Andersâ finds himself rooted to the spot, unable to move. When at last he unglues himself from the stone, Fenris has reached the next intersection, and Anders has to jog to catch up with him. Without thinking, Anders reaches out and takes Fenris��� arm.
Fenris bristles immediately, and Anders lets go, but he doesnât back away. âWhat do you mean? What things?â
Fenrisâ brow pull up in his forehead, rumpling the skin around his lyrium tattoos. âYou know. You must know.â
For longer than he can measure, all that Anders can hear is the rushing of blood in his ears, and the heavy, rapid pounding of his heart in his chest. Then heâs leaning down and clutching at the straps of Fenrisâ armour, pulling him close as he bends down, bringing their lips together. Just before they touch, Anders pauses, nearly sick with the force of his heartbeat against his ribcage. âTell me you want this.â
Fenrisâ response as to reach up and catch Andersâ head in his hands, gauntlets catching sharply in his hair as he pulls him down for a kiss.Â
All of Andersâ breath leaves him in one great, dizzy rush as his nose fills with the stinging scent of lyrium, and the rich spice of leather, and the salt tang of sweat. Fenris is warm against him, and his lips are soft, and Anders can barely think past the wet, slick heat of him.Â
âFENRIS! ANDERS!â Marianâs voice is distant, and echoes dizzily around the tunnels. Anders frowns, but doesnât move. Fenris does, pulling back and away. A string of saliva catches between their lips, and Fenrisâ hand falls from Andersâ head, breaking it as he wipes his own mouth clean, leaning back and away with an unreadable expression.
âDo you see, mage?âÂ
Then he turns, and hurries down the tunnel in the direction of Marianâs voice. âHAWKE! Weâre here!âÂ
Itâs only later, when theyâve regrouped with Varric and Marian, and sheâs fussed over both he and Fenris to her heartâs content, that Anders realises it.Â
Just for a moment, in Fenrisâ arms, breathing the warmth of him into his lungs, Anders forgot to be afraid of the dark.Â
28 notes
¡
View notes
Text
âI read your diary.â
Prompt inspired by one line of dialogue.
Read on AO3
Eddie reads a diary he believes to be Richie's and is pretty sure he just admitted to being in love with him.
3k+ words. Oneshot
That day at lunch, when Richie had announced that his parents would be out that evening, it was decided they would have a little Losers get together at his house. At least once a week they gathered at one of their houses for a game night or to view a movie or TV show they all wanted to watch. All seven of them squished on a couch, under blankets and just enjoying being with one another. Not having any parents around to yell at them when they got too loud was always a bonus.
Upon entering the Tozier home, they kicked off their shoes before going up to Richieâs room to peruse his collection of movies, ditching their backpacks by his bed. The only downside to being at Richieâs, for Stan and Eddie at least, was that most of his movies were of the horror genre and neither particularly liked them. There was a good chance Eddie would end up staying over at Richieâs so that his mom didnât find out heâd watched something scary in case he woke up with nightmares.
Eddie sat on Richieâs bed while the rest looked, knowing that nothing he said about their choice of movie really mattered. Either way heâd be traumatized for the next week. He looked at the movie posters on his walls and the scattering of polaroids of the seven of them heâd taped up haphazardly. Theyâd spent so many years together and with their senior year coming to an end, Eddie couldnât help the feelings of anxiety that gripped him whenever he thought about going their separate ways. Stan had asked once if theyâd still be friends when they were older, and Eddie thought about that a lot now. He hoped so. He didnât want to lose any of them, but they couldnât be sure what would happen until they lived it.
âEds, we picked a movie, letâs go.â Richie said with a grin that made Eddie fall in love all over again.
He looked to the door to see all of his friends were already leaving the room. When he stood to follow, he bumped their bags and knocked a few of them over, spilling the contents. He cursed under his breath and knelt down to pick up the things that had spilled while also mentally berating his friends for leaving their bags unzipped. Stuffing a textbook back into Billâs bag, he went to stand only to stop when something under Richieâs bed caught his eye. Amongst the clutter that littered the floor beneath his bed was a blue notebook with a sticker of the hear, speak and see no evil monkeys on it.
Eddie glanced at the door to see he was alone, his friendâs voices carrying up the stairs. Reaching for the notebook, he felt like he was doing something he wasnât supposed to. Sure, it crossed his mind that it could have just fallen from one of their backpacks when they fell, but it was far under the bed, partially covered by a sweatshirt. Given the number of things under his bed, there was a chance it had just been dropped and forgotten. Still, Eddie couldnât stop thinking that it had been hidden there on purpose. Listening carefully for any of his friends coming back up the stairs, he cracked the notebook open and read at the very top âDear diaryâ.
He let the cover fall from his fingers and close. There was no denying it then. Richie kept a diary, and this was it. Eddie knew he shouldnât read it, but he was so, so curious. Richie was the last person he expected to keep a diary and he had to know what kind of things he wrote about. Heâd honestly been expecting it to be filled with jokes heâd thought up.
Maybe it was because Eddie had been secretly in love with Richie for years, or maybe it was just curiosity getting the better of him, but he opened the notebook to the last entry and began to read.
âDear diary, Iâm in love with my best friend.â
Eddie inhaled sharply and read that first line over and over again. Who did Richie consider his best friend? Sure, Eddie wanted to say it was him, but there were six of them to choose from. He could mean any one of the Losers. He had to know, so he kept going.
âHe was cute again today.â That ruled out Beverly.
âEverything about him is cute. Heâs shorter than me, not by a lot, but enough to be adorable.â Richie and Bill were the tallest of the group, with Bill standing an inch taller, so that ruled him out too.
âAt lunch there was a spider on the table, and he freaked out. It was so cute I couldnât stop looking at him.â Eddie, Stan and Ben had all three been afraid of the spider, and Mike had been the one to kill it. So, not Mike either.
âHis locker is by mine and I just stand there and stare at him when he gets his books. I donât think heâs noticed.â Stanâs locker was in a separate hallway, down by Billâs. Both Eddie and Ben had lockers near Richieâs.
âHis locker is so organized and clean and precise, not at all like mine. Iâm probably too messy for him.â Benâs locker wasnât a mess, but it was usually cluttered, and he often dropped things while trying to pull out books. Eddieâs on the other handâŚ
Eddie closed the notebook, unable to read anymore. Heâd read enough to confirm that it was him that Richie was writing about. Richie was in love with him and Eddie didnât know how to proceed. Did he tell him that he knew? Did he confess his own feelings and hope that he wouldnât deny that he loved him too? Not in a million years did Eddie expect this. Richie was always talking about the girls in their classes that he liked and making vulgar jokes about them. Maybe he liked boys and girls. Or girls and Eddie.
âEds! Are you coming?â Richieâs voice came from the stairs, causing Eddie to jump and throw the book back under his bed.
âYeaâŚIâm coming!â He shouted back.
Eddie stood and placed his hand to his chest, trying to calm himself down. He had to go downstairs, squish on the couch next to Richie and pretend like he didnât know they were both in love with each other. Easy, right?
*
Occasionally Eddie was brave, but when it came to matters of the heart, he was a coward. Heâd chosen not to stay at Richieâs that night, too afraid to have that conversation with him about what heâd read. Too scared to admit that heâd read what he wasnât meant to. Instead, he let it torture him over the weekend, the words playing in his mind repeatedly. Every dream he had was about Richie, he invaded his every thought, causing his stomach to churn with a mix of butterflies and anxiety.
When Monday came and he could no longer avoid facing him, he thought he might actually become sick. Heâd met his friends like he did every morning. He was the last one to pull up the bike rack, locking his bike up and avoiding eye contact. His first two classes of the morning he was alone, but by third hour he was with Richie again, sitting side by side and pretending like he wasnât on edge. Apparently, he wasnât doing a very good job of it as Richie noticed and stopped him after class when he tried to speed off.
âEds, whatâs going on with you?â He asked, pulling him to the side of the hallway by some lockers.
âNothing.â Eddie answered too quickly.
âYouâve barely spoken all day and wonât look at me. Did I do something?â
The look on Richieâs face was worried and it made Eddie feel bad for making him make that face. He didnât like a sad Richie. He liked when he was smiling and cracking lame jokes that made him laugh. It was his fault he was looking like that and he couldnât keep it in any longer. Had to let him know what heâd seen and admit that heâd done something wrong. Betrayed his trust. Hopefully he wouldnât be too upset when he told him he felt the same.
âIâŚread your diary.â Eddie lowered his voice, leaning in a bit so only Richie could hear.
âYou did what now?â Richie cracked a confused smile as his eyebrows knit together.
âIâm sorry. I know it was wrong. I found it in your room and I only read one page, but it was where you were talking about your crush. RichieâŚI knowâŚâ
âYou know what?â Richie was full on grinning now and it made Eddie nervous for some reason.
âI know who you like!â He said in a harsh whisper, darting his eyes around the hall to see if anyone was listening.
âHow could you, Eds? Thatâs such an invasion of privacy.â
âI know. Iâm really sorry, but I think we need to talk about what I readâŚâ
âWhat did you read?â
âThat you like m-.â
âRichie!â Eddieâs words were drowned out by Bill, who was rushing toward them.
âWhatâs up, Billy?â Richie asked, his eyes lingering on Eddieâs red face a moment longer before turning to their friend.
âI think I left s-something at your house last week. Can I come by after school to look for it?â
âYea. What did you lose?â
âItâs myâŚumâŚnoteb-book.â Bill said, his face flushing slightly.
âWhatâs it look like?â
âB-b-blue, with a monkey sticker on the f-front.â
Eddie felt like time slowed down around him as he came to a very abrupt realization. It was Billâs dairy heâd read. He was talking about Stan. Stan was shorter than him, Stan had freaked out about the spider, Stanâs locker was by his, Stan was just as organized as Eddie was, if not more. He felt his cheeks heat up and felt like heâd been punched in the stomach. Just a minute ago, heâd been about to confess his feelings because he thought Richie felt the same. Now he felt sick and so, so stupid. God, he was so stupid! Of course, Richie didnât keep a diary. He didnât love Eddie.
âYou ok, E-Eddie?â Bill asked.
When he focused on them again, they were both staring at him. His eyes met Richieâs and his fight or flight instinct kicked in. He chose the latter. Turning on his heel, he took off down the hall. He heard both boys yelling after him, but their voices only pushed him to run faster. He pushed through the doors that lead out to the fields where he made a beeline for one of the dugouts. They were well hidden and wouldnât be in use this time of day. Sometimes other students made out there or smoked there, but usually not so early in the morning. He sat on one of the benches, dropping his bag by his feet, and put his head in his hands.
If Bill had interrupted them even a second later, Eddie would be in a much worse spot. At least this way he didnât have to deal with rejection and messing up their friendship. Heâd think of an excuse for why heâd ran away, think of what he was going to say to make up for the misunderstanding. For now, he was going to wallow and deal with his self-loathing in peace. Part of him wondered if he should call his mom, tell her he wasnât feeling well so he could go hide out at home for the rest of the day. As it was, she was probably going to get a call that he had missed his fourth class of the day. He didnât really care about that at the moment though. Her lecture would be a welcome distraction from the noise in his head.
Eddie heard the footsteps approaching and tried to make himself small so he wouldnât be seen. There was a chance it was someone looking to use the dugout for some debauchery, but they could use the other one. This one was occupied, and he wasnât leaving. It could also have been a teacher doing a scan for students breaking rules because of course they new what they were used for. What Eddie hadnât been expecting was for the person to jump down and sit beside him on the bench.
He tilted his head to the side and looked up to see Richie sitting there, leaning back slightly on his hands and looking up and out at the sky. Eddieâs stomach sank as he kicked himself for not just going home where Richie wouldnât be able to find him so easily. He dropped his hands from his face but stayed hunched over, his elbows on his knees.
âYou ok?â Richie asked, still not looking at him.
Eddie nodded. It didnât matter that it was a lie. He didnât want to talk about what was going on in his head. Especially not with Richie.
âWhat happened back there?â
âNothing. I made a mistake. Sorry.â Eddie pushed up off the bench and stood, but before he could walk away, Richie grabbed him by his wrist.
âYou said you read my diary.â
âYea. It was Billâs. I know that now. Like I said, I made a mistake.â
âSo, you arenât upset anymore?â
âI wasnât upset in the first place.â
âYou canât lie to me, Eds. You looked like you were about to cry. So, who did you think I liked that was so terrible and isnât now that itâs Bill who has a crush?â
âI canât tell you that. It would be betraying Bill.â
Richie huffed out a laugh and tugged lightly on Eddieâs wrist, willing him to sit back down. Eddie complied but kept a distance between them, gently twisting his wrist out of his grip. They were quiet for a moment and Eddie wondered why he wanted him to stay if he wasnât going to speak. He still wanted to be alone, to be very far away from Richie. He could practically feel the heat radiating off the other boy and he was too hyper aware of every small move he made next to him.
âItâs Stan, right?â Richie finally said, startling Eddie out of his thoughts.
âWhat?â
âBillâs crush. Itâs on Stan.â
âYea.â Eddie said, because obviously they all knew.
âSo, you thought I liked Stan?â Richie grinned.
âYea.â
âAnd itâs a bad thing if I do?â
Eddieâs throat went dry and he thought about bolting again. He didnât want to hear Richie say he had a crush on anyone else. Especially not another boy, especially not their friend. It would kill him, and he definitely could not handle it.
âNoâŚâ His voice came out in the whisper.
âWell, I donât.â
Eddie closed his eyes and let out a silent breath of relief, thanking whoever was listening.
âEddie.â There was something in Richieâs voice that made all the hairs on Eddieâs arms stand on end. A softness when he said his name that was so laced with caring it made him want to cry. How could he not love this stupid mother fucker?
âEddie. Look at me.â He said when he got no response.
âWe have to get to class.â Eddie said, ignoring him and reaching for his bag.
âI love you.â Richie said as Eddie stood again, stopping him in his tracks.
Eddie opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Seconds turned to minutes, Eddie standing with his back to Richie, not responding to his confession. He screamed at himself inside his head, tried to will himself to move, to say anything instead of leaving Richie to sit there agonizing over what Eddie might be thinking. It wasnât until he heard Richie move to stand up, that he finally snapped out of it and turned to face him. The frown on Richieâs face was enough to knock the wind from his lungs and make his heart hurt for him.
âRichieâŚâ Eddie managed to say.
âSorry. I shouldnât have said anything.â Richie said. âJust forget it.â
âNo. No, I canât. RichieâŚâ The tears began to fall before Eddie could stop them. It was too overwhelming, too many thoughts racing through his head all at once. âRichie, I love you.â
His hands gripped the front of Richieâs shirt, his knuckles turning white against the fabric. Richieâs raised his hands to softly hold Eddieâs face between them. His expression was unreadable as his eyes searched Eddieâs face.
âYou know I donât mean as a friend, right?â Richie asked.
Eddie nodded, afraid to try to speak as the tears wouldnât stop. He loved him so much. So much that it hurt sometimes. He was all he wanted, all he thought about. Knowing he felt the same was too much. Richieâs thumbs swiped at the tears that trailed down his cheeks as he continued to stare at him for a long moment. It made Eddie nervous but the look in Richieâs eyes was enough to push those feelings away. A look like he was gazing upon something so precious.
Richie leaned down and kissed him on his forehead before pressing his own against it. Letting his eyes drift close, Eddie let himself enjoy the moment of closeness with the person he loved. Let himself get lost in the feel of his hands on his face, the way he could feel his chest rise and fall beneath his hands as their breath mixed together between them. This, Eddie thought, was a little taste of what heaven must be like.
âYou really love me?â Richie asked.
âYes.â Eddie said without hesitation. âOnly you.â
âCan I kiss you?â
Eddie nodded and a second later, their lips were pressed together causing his breath to catch. He released Richieâs shirt with one hand and trailed it up to rest against his neck. Richie brushed his fingers against Eddieâs cheek as he let go to grab Eddieâs other hand with his, lacing their fingers together. In this moment everything was perfect, and they felt indestructible. Together.
45 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Chapter 1 - Communication of Silence
ao3 link *clicky* masterpost link (contains ALL works - the last entry is CoS!) monthly updates until finished Logan and Virgil work at their university's library at the side of their studies. As Virgil calls Logan late at night, he knows something is wrong and decides to visit him - turn out this was a good decision. He temporarily moves in with Logan. Turns out there were so many things he didn't know about Virgil after all these months of working together. Analogical, minor moceit and ThRo. The warnings are for PAST THINGS and especially warned for in specific chapters! you CAN skip them
It was silent and dark as Logan was about to lock the library and go home. The lights shut and silence engulfing him, giving the place a ghastly yet calming atmosphere, he only realised the call incoming as his the display of his phone started blinking. It illuminated the the library like the our days and he was quick to speed up his steps as he walked back to the counter to gather his things.
Instead of leaving as planned, he took the phone and call, not minding the displayed name. It was probably his boss asking about whether he was done already or maybe write something up, grab a thing before leaving because Logan was trusted with these tasks and this information. As the librarian pressed the phone against his ear as he picked up the bag he had brought with him, the black fabric weighing from his shoulder as he let it rest. But every expectation he held for the other side, everything around him and all his worries and plans suddenly dispersed into nothing but thin air as his attempted to prompt the caller.
All he heard was a choked back sob and his heart twisted painfully, his mind stretching like the universe as his thoughts spread into every direction.
ââVirgilââ, he answered mindlessly and suddenly his mind was void. Every question and advice died in its beginning before it could even reach his conscience and he felt ready to cry, just hearing his co-worker pretending to not cry. Logan did not know what had happened but he was ready to battle everything and everyone that had caused this massacre of tears that were likely to fall from Virgilâs usually pale cheek. It probably was not pale right now. And honestly, the usual image in his mind of Virgil - curling in laughter, holding his stomach with one arm and hiding his smile and flushing cheeks behind his left hand - was blown away as the other must have received his lame attempt at prompting the conversation.
Virgil seemed dissolve into tears, the realisation of Logan being on the other side of the line gave him a feeling that released his fears and cries. Logan stopped walking. He was not able to focus on his usual way right now and after his hands had automatically locked the library, the nerd just stood before the building and tried it again.
ââYou hate phone callsââ, he stated weakly, his prompting helpless and he looked at his feet. If he knew where Virgil was, he would just come to him.
âây-yeahââ, the otherâs voice came. It sounded too calm and suddenly all tears and sobs were gone. However, Logan was able to detect the breathless gasps the younger student seemed to hide.
Why was he calling him if he could not talk? If he did not want to reveal what was up? All evening, Virgil had not texted him at all. Since they parted after his shift, he had not even heard a word from the other. Not even from social media.
ââVirgilââ, Logan tried again, a frustrated sigh following and he wiped the blank expression back into his face as he tried desperately to remain calm, ââcan you breathe? Where are you right now?ââ
Logan waited, listening intently. He did know that Virgil was prone to messaging him, blinking through tears and trying to breathe when one of his panic attacks overwhelmed him. He never told the science student why they happened or whether this was usual.
It happened to often for it to be a rare occasion. Virgil knew too many coping mechanisms and facts about panic and anxiety attacks to be new or strange to these. And he had only worked with him for about nine months by now.
ââHmmââ, the tiny male said on the other side and Logan could hear a sudden crashing sound in the back and a sudden, distorted yelp from directly next to the speaker. ââhomeââ, he tried again, voice sounding as if it was cowering to Loganâs feet and about to beg for help and protection.
It was everything he needed to hear. His body mechanically pushed into motion by the subtle call for something apparently only Logan could provide. Questions whirled in his mind as he speed walked around the corner and started walking to the street he knew gave home to his fragile yet mysterious co-worker.
ââI am coming, Virgilââ, he mused, his voice sharp and sudden and he could basically hear him flinch as the breathing on the other side suddenly became thin and erratic again and Logan wanted to apologise for his words but there was no back. Not on his way nor on his track of words. ââI am coming to get you and you can stay with me. I want to know you safe.ââ
There was nothing but a weak sound, akin to a whine coming from the other side of the line. He did not seem powerful enough to put up a fight as usual.
The line did not go dead. Logan stayed all the while and listened to Virgilâs breathing evening out.
Soon enough, he arrived and rung the bell at the door. The lights were on, scarring the nightâs protective coat of the night and Logan pocketed his phone instead of hanging up. The half-giant waited patiently for a few moments before he heard steps and a shadow approaching.
To his surprise, not Virgil opened the door but someone else. A male stood before him, older and taller than Virgil but still shorter than Logan.
The man seemed insecure on his legs, the feet a little askew on the floor as if one had decided to go one way while the other had its mind on another direction and they just could not agree on one solution. His brown, neck-long hair was lacking in colour and almost looked like fallen ashes from a long-gone fire, his grey-blue eyes seemed distant and unfocused as he took in Loganâs appearance without a word at first, his empty mind desperately trying to grab a word, make up a sentence and ask why this man, this stranger, suddenly showed up at his doorstep in the middle of the night without a word. Every time he seemed to make sense of the scatter letters in his brain, he let let his grip on them slip again and all the effort was for nothing. His clothing was baggy and dirty and it reeked of alcohol. Behind him, a scene of chaos and dirt could be seen
ââI am looking for Virgilââ, he stated, feeling oddly out of place. His voice was blunt and direct as much as his words but the underline seemed like the aftertaste of unpleasant medicine and a tone of ice could be felt. It was not the winterâs temperature that gave the man before him a sense that messing with the stranger who filled the entire door frame with his height was more than a lost cause and wasted try.
Logan was so properly dressed, so neat and tidy and not even a single strand of his hair seemed to be out of control, out of a special frame despite his fast-paced steps that had brought him here through the night. He was too good for this neighbourhood, for these houses that were more ruins and the street lights that have given up on life too long ago. This place honestly looked as if it had seen war and the buildings and street suffered from too much depression to try or really give any fuck of what was going on.
The man before Logan was just a sad representation of this place. But a thought tugged at him and it made his heart ache.
Virgil did not belong here. Virgil, bright and shy student Virgil with his dark humour and slow affection did not belong into a place that had given itself up, that had declared its own death as it lost hope in its own potential.
Virgil had potential and Logan would be damned if he did not try to help him and make his dreams come true,
The man before Logan - probably Virgilâs roommate? Maybe his father? He did not know - shrugged and pointed at the corridor behind him.
âââLittle Virgil is not happy right nowââ, he spat out as Logan passed him but the nerd tried to ignore him, tried to not shake and shiver when these words crawled under his skin and rubbed into him. ââVirgil was bad and he will be bad to you, too.ââ
Stay calm, he told himself, Virgil needs you, needs you there for him and not make a fuss and break up a fight.
As he stepped further into the house, which was just remotely warmer than the icy air outside, he started noticing the foul smell everywhere, the mold creeping up the walls and turning the white walls into a piss yellow that faded into a brownish shade around the edges and corners. Dirt and trash cluttered the floor and there were glass shreds and red droplets. Pieces of wood could be seen there and they gave him the impression as if they used to belong to each other and Logan pieced the mental image of a dark brown old chair together that had given in under too much force.
Soon enough, but not fast enough for Loganâs taste and less in favour of his stomach and nostrils, he arrived at a door that looked stabbed and mistreated, just as abused as the rest of this house. But this one was Virgilâs door and seeing it wrecked and hurt just let him assume the pain it laying behind it, the misery it was shielding his sight and body from.
ââVirgil, I am hereââ, he whispered softly as he picked his phone up with one hand and knocked with the other, ââplease let me in.ââ
Hastily, before his mind could really grasp it, he added a more silent yes very much audible ââI am aloneââ and it turned out to be the ââopen sesameââ for the wooden shield that kept him separated from Virgil.
A few moments later, he heard a click to his ear and the call ended. His display shut itself after blinking the notification into his eyes with a purple light. He had purple lights assigned to messages from Virgil. Right after, the doorâs lock made a heavy shoving sound, a dull and brazen sound that resonated in his chest before the wood creaked open and a slender hand pulled him into the unknown.
Logan was faster out of the corridor and in Virgilâs room than he had anticipated and now he was standing in a dark room, merely illuminated by the agonizingly white screen of a laptop that seemed to be next to ... a bed?
Logan could not tell but his dark blue eyes tried their best to adjust to the darkness around them and find some sort of orientation in this strange setting.
ââLoââ, the hand holding onto his arm seemed to whisper and he directed his attention to the small student before him, looking so small and tiny in the scarce light on the other side of the awfully small room. The bed was a singe sized and would probably fit up to five times into the entire room if every furniture was kept out and the floor was taken up completely.
Logan narrowed his eyes on the black cluster of fabric before him, the oversized hoodie sitting on the thin frame and wearing Virgil rather than being worn by him. The lack of proper light somewhat gave the librarian the impression that there was even more hidden than his co-worker seemed to let on.
But instead of asking, instead of making the other talk and force him into opening up, he simply opened his arms and gently tugged the tiny student closer with a loose grip on shoulder. Virgil flinched a bit at the contact and a soft sob broke from his throat but he easily followed the tug and fell into Loganâs arms with a relief that carried their weight together.
ââWhy are you here?ââ
Logan gently rubbed over Virgilâs back, trying to calm him down as he shivered and sobs kept resonating in his body and making him shake and jerk his fragile bones in his co-workerâs arms who loosely held the student close. His voice sounded as if he had smoked a whole packages of cigarettes and strummed down his vocal chords like an instrument.
Logan just wanted this voice to be full of sarcasm and spite again, or even better, just laughing shyly and with a hand in front of his mouth to muffle the sounds of his joy even though it made Loganâs heart warm up as if these nice sounds ignited a fire within his chest to stay over and camp. Actually, Virgil had more than a campfire in his chest but rather a special place, a true palace compared to his actual living conditions.
ââI am here because you called me, Virgil. I am not letting you stay here, do you understand?ââ
His voice rang through the thin studentâs frame and he let out a silent whimper before he gave a soft sound of approval before he started crying properly. The statement seemed to have broken any restraints within him that had him try to keep it together and not cry or anything.
However, now he was full on sobbing, his choking tears and desperate gasps like sirens to Logan and he carefully scooped him up and carried him to the bed to really inspect him and make it more comfortable for his tired feet and Virgil who must be more than exhausted after all the panic and crying he seemed to be through. After all, Logan had not been holding him in his arms but also up on his feet as he had embraced the shivering form of his friend.
A few steps and a few careful movements later and Logan stood before the bed, about to set the other down when Virgil seemed to realise what was happening and started moving in a sudden jerk backwards, his head snapping from Loganâs shoulder into a further distance and the two looked at each other as Virgil frantically tugged and pushed at Logan. The latter had no idea what was happening but the punk with the purple hair squirmed further until Logan carefully let him down again, putting him gently down onto his feet again and holding onto his sides as he tried to stabilise him. The librarian was not sure whether the other was able to stand without him after all, so he just wanted to make sure.
Virgil stood on his legs, seeming like a thin single stick poking out from the ground and bending in the slight breeze of the world. He carefully walked to the side and placed his sleeve-covered right over a light switch next to his bed and the hooded figure ducked away a bit, hiding from the light as the painful orange shine hurt his unprepared, honey coloured orbs.
Logan averted his gaze from Virgil to the bed to understand what was wrong and the sight made his heart quench painfully. Shreds of glass were scattered over the black sheets of the bed and tweezers laid by the glossy cherry that tainted the transparent edges and shreds of tiny pieces.
The elder turned back to the student and carefully cornered him as the other took as step back with every inch Logan approached him. It felt as if the shreds on the sheets might as well pierce into Loganâs heart as he saw his trusted and beloved friend squeeze himself into the corner of his wall and bed until the barriers of matter did not allow his legs to escape any further.
âân-nuââ, he whined and Logan stopped, his mouth slightly agape. His blue eyes teared up and his gut twisted painfully as Virgil pleaded, begged him with his words and movements to not come any closer. To not hurt him further.
He was scared of Logan being angry at him, of him letting his anger out on him.
Of course, the science student would never do such thing but Virgil, in his panicked stance, did not seem to understand this. He was less than convinced.
Logan would just prove him wrong. If logic did not help, then empirical evidence would show him right.
The librarian shook his head and offered him a joyless, shallow smile as he pushed the corners of his mouth into an empty smile and his eyes seemed just as apprehensive as Virgil as he started crouching, never breaking the precious eye contact that seemed to bring the honey-eyed storm of emotions calm into a stillness of wind.
The stormcloud glanced at Logan and seemed less pressed into the wall as the giant lowered his height as he knelt down, one knee on the floor and the other following suit before he reached out with his hands to tug at Virgilâs sleeves.
ââI want to make sure, Virgil. Is that okay? Please just nod or shake your hand. You do not have to talk if you cannot or do not want toââ, he asked softly and his voice lured Virgil into believing him and the light yellow of his eyes seemed to glow in a darker brownish, golden gleam as he nodded, allowing Logan to push his sleeves carefully up to his elbows.
The fresh cuts, deep and others shallow, along with some scars of several shades from fresh red to faint pink were revealed as he was left without the usual protection of his black and purple patched up hoodie.
ââVirgil, this needs to be treatedââ, he said sternly and carefully looked back at the bed. Tweezers, shreds. At least all cuts seemed to be void of the shreds that had caused the breaks in the skinâs tissues in the first place. His eyes roamed over the black sheet and soon found what he had suspected: sanitising solution and cotton pads. Something within him calmed as he realised he could probably treat his friend right here and there without problems and the day after still drag him to a doctor to make sure nothing would happen. Another part of him realised that this had not been the first time Virgil was hurt like that and had to patch himself up.
It also explained the constant appearance of Virgil in his hoodie and the need to be covered at all times. Logan was scared of imagining what other kind of injuries the other must have suffered from and for a moment, a seething flame of rage bubbled up within him as he realised that someone or even multiple people had to be the cause of this.
For how long? And why did Virgil never reach out for help?
Logan carefully pushed the student down onto the floor into a sitting position and grabbed the sanitising solution, tweezers and pats.
It was time to patch up his friend.
It took long, painfully long but Logan wanted to make sure nothing would get infected. But every time the cotton pads touched Virgilâs skin, the other would let out a weak moan or even flinch back even though he seemed to try his hardest to not move to much, Logan understood that the second burn of cleaning the mess of his pain just hurt even more and stretched the traumatising experience even further.
The nerd resorted to talking a bit as he wanted to keep Virgilâs focused on something other than the pain. He just wanted the young student to look less as if he was a big bad wolf about to devour him, the defenseless victim of the story. But it was less the case. Logan was more of the friendly giant who turned out to be more approachable than expected.
Actually, that was pretty much who he was. To Virgil, at least. Every other person saw him as nonchalant being or huge threat when they got on his bad side but this was not his calling right now.
All that mattered was getting the wounds clean and Virgil out of this mess and as the librarian started talking about the usual topics such as work and their friends Patton and Roman, the punk seemed to ease up just enough to sometimes mumble an answer or whisper a few comments.
It meant the world to Logan. It felt as if he was operating on a dying bird and every minute of life was a precious gift from the universe to him as a single person and he could not have been more grateful than in the moments Virgil trusted Logan enough to let him in, to touch and bandage his wounds and even talk back to him.
He would have early shift in the morning and it was only a few hours until then but he and Virgil were set on packing his things and leaving for good.
This night, Logan did not ask about how and why Virgil was in this situation. He did not press him into saying anything he did not seem ready to but he did patch up his wounds, cleared his bed and dried his tears before cuddling up with him and tucking him in.
Virgil was situated in Loganâs lap as the other trained his eyes on the paper before him and started reading the only book he had with him and the tiny room suddenly seemed to be in another world and instead of being caught up in blood, scars and unanswered misery, the two dove into the world of unraveling mysteries with the impressive deduction by Sherlock Holmes.
The arrogant character, albeit fictitious, made Logan smirk and erupted some small chuckles from the fragile frame of Virgil. He was not helpless anymore. He did not feel wrecked down by panic and choked on the pain of his hot and salty tears.
For the first time in forever, the punk curled up against someoneâs warmth in this hellhole of a trap and he let go and did not cry himself to sleep but drifted off with a faint smile on his pink lips and a couple of slender fingers stroking over his hair as a melodic voice lulled him into Morpheusâ arms.
Soon, this would all be over. Forever. And the new start would be with his best friend who held him close to his heavily beating heart and the comforting heat of acceptance.
#Logan#ts logan#logan sanders#fanf#fanfiction#fanfic#fanficion#fanfic fluff#hurt and comfort#virgil sanders#vrigil sanders#joey writes
4 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Caelus
A/N: This is my entry (super late yet again) for @ruckystarnes Summer of AUs challenge! And for a lack of inspiration, the titlte is space in latin! loll I had an inital idea when I signed up but this honestly took me so long to grasp and then it just poured out! So here it is, thank you for being so patient love! đ Beta: babyboo @eyesfixedonthesun22 Warnings: language, smut, gay sex, mention of blood Word count: 5714 Prompt: Space AU, Stucky
Main Masterlist  |  Challenges Masterlist
âSteve, you jackass! Come back!â Thereâs no point in yelling twice. Bucky knows. But his best friend is storming towards the recruiting line-up with a mighty will. When they had denied him to join the army, Steve jumped on every last occasion to prove himself.
Not two weeks ago, Stark Industries announced a new advanced project that would allow a select group of candidates to participate in a space camp tryout. Theyâd be secluded into experimental ships, given some basic training and then experts would monitor their behavior, their reactions to simulated situations. If they made it out alive - and sane - a month later, theyâd be taken to Starkâs secret facility and given proper training and instructions. Every boy in New York reached out like little kids given the gift of their lives.
So Bucky is standing there in the busy streets of Brooklyn, arms up in disbelief. The sick boy was going to go against the odds once more. He was a foot shorter than the men around him. Arms frail, and thrown into an asthma attack once he reached the building. Security threatened to keep him out - much to his safety - but Steven Grant Rogers does not back down because of some disability.
âI swear to God,â Bucky mumbles under his breath as he begins to make his way towards the atroupment of testosterone.Â
âThereâs no reason for me to be doing less than these men!â Comes as a shout out of Steveâs mouth. Heâs red and Bucky isnât sure if itâs the rage or yet another one of his problems surfacing.
âCome on, buddy. Letâs go home,â he tries to reason with him.
âNo Buck! Donât you get it?â Steve turns back to the guard. âIâll fucking die anyway! Might as well it be doing something importantâŚâ His face winces at the thought; heâd never mentioned his illness as something so weighing, so dark.
âSteveâŚâ He brings his hand to his best palâs shoulder as he tries to comfort him. âYour value isnât measured with what you can do for the world. You take care of me and thatâs plenty.â Steve sighs and accepts defeat.
âFine,â he looks into Buckyâs eyes, tears of anger filling his own, âI guess we can go.â
They turn towards the street and start walking home. As he looks over his shoulder at the line of people still hoping to get a shot, he sees a strange man scribbling down a notepad, looking at the two of them leave with a smile. Round glasses frame his face, he hasnât shaved in a week. From his outfit and his demeanor Bucky knows heâs German. He shrugs it off and turns his attention back to his friend, throwing his arm around his neck.
Itâs a week later when a knock at the door startles the boys out of their sleep. It must be around three in the morning, as far as Steve can tell. He turns on the lamp on his nightstand and looks over at Bucky in annoyance.
âJerks,â he whispers as he recalls the nights of torment the kids from the neighbourhood had him endure - it was the reason Bucky had moved in with him.
âLet me take care of it,â the dark haired man replies.Â
âBucky, stop. I can take care of myself.â
âSee, the thing is, you donât have to.â He shakes his shoulder before walking over to the door. Thereâs a paper taped to it, bright and clear texts surround a pointy, metal ship image. Thereâs the Stark logo on it, and it makes him shiver in excitement.
âSteveâŚâ He trails. âGet your ass over here.â
He hands him the poster and gives him a minute to read. It begins to tremble in his hands when he reaches the last sentence: âWe are glad to announce that you have been selected to participate in an experimental camp supervised by the Stark Industries.â
Thereâs a place and time for them to be the next day, and they spend the rest of the night getting their luggage ready, along with making up stories and tripping out over the opportunity.
*
The rustic walls of brick have transformed into sterile steel. The floors are made of a plastic-like material - something easy to clean, Steve notices. It would be impossible to reach the ceiling and heâs wondering how they even managed to build this facility anyway. Itâs highly distinct from the level of ingenuity of the current construction standards. The white building stands out absurdly in its secluded forest location.
Robots roam around, tacking and bolting steel plates to one another. Prototypes of deadly weapons are hung on the walls as they walk behind a seductive lady to what they presume is the reception. Their stuff, along with themselves, go through metal detectors - something they had only heard of until now - before making their way to a large office.
âGood evening, boy.â Thereâs a thick accent to the greeting, one that both can easily distinguish. âI hope we havenât given you too much trouble.â
âNot at all, um...â Bucky begins, words failing him as heâs still processing the amount of discoveries they are about to do. He sighs heavily, his shoulders slumping.
âIâm Dr. Erskine. Responsible of the Biological Enhancement department here at Stark Industries. This here is Lady Carter, sheâll be assisting you on your journey.â The voluptuous woman nods their way and it has them both swallowing hard. She has a confidence they had never witnessed, and it has them nearly humiliating themselves.
âNice to meet you,â Steve manages to say as he struggles to gain composure. He hopes she doesnât notice him drying his palms on the back of his pants.
âLikewise,â she says. Her British accent runs a shiver up Buckyâs spine.
âNow, we wouldnât want to keep you up too late. If you please follow Miss Carter to your assigned pod. Weâll go through the logistics in the morning.â The German man hands them a pair of overalls; nothing flattering, Bucky thinks.
*
It takes only three weeks for the boys to be fully independent, allowing them to be part of the first team to launch the program. Their uniforms along with their tools and weapons get a significant upgrade. Theyâre already anticipating the look of their new quarters.
âCanât believe weâre doing this,â Steve mentions.
âReally? After twenty-something attempts I would highly believe that youâd be given a chance,â Bucky answers with a hint of sarcasm. They both laugh until a voice requests them to be at the main quarter in the next ten minutes.
The spaceship is a hundred feet tall or so, its body is quite narrow and it feels pretty sturdy. They gulp nonetheless, this would be for real and they couldnât just drop out with a snap of their fingers. The team of eight wait by the cabin door, ably putting on their masks and equipment.
âThis is it!â Bucky shouts.
âWeâve been working so hard for this. Maybe a few years after this weâll be able to finally see what Earth looks like from up there.â Doug, whoâd been the fittest one of them until he took Bucky under his wing and made him an even bigger beast, contemplates the unimaginable.Â
âRemember when just last year they presented the concept of flying cars and it failed. Seems like they were either lying to us or they made phenomenal progress since thenâŚâ Bucky remembers his astonishment after the Stark Expo; he was always a fan of progress and technology used for the good of the population. This journey would be an experiment of a life-time.
âAlright everyone settle in.â The German accent demands over the intercom. The small group walks into the ship and find their respective seats. With his wit and quick thinking, Steve was assigned board commander. Bucky was in charge of the combat tactics. It felt like, for once, their lives had meaning and it was an honour to be going through this together.
ââTil the end of the line.â Steve captures his friendâs hand in his.
ââTil the end of the line,â Bucky answers. They feel the ship âshake off the groundâ, and the team howls in enthusiasm.Â
Once the orbiting procedures are done, they find their way into their seperate quarters, each sharing rooms in teams of three, except for Bucky and Steve who have the room to just the two of them. They walk to the door as they chit chat. Their smiles fade when the door slides before them and they notice the size of the room.
A large window gives out to a realistic CGI galaxy. The moon roams by slowly and itâs enough to have them holding their breaths, eyes watering at the beauty.Â
âSteve,â Bucky whispers. He turns to see his friend nodding at him, his lower lip bitten as he tries to hold in his emotions. âThis wouldnât have happened without your stubborn little head.âÂ
âYou deserve this as much as I do Buck.â They turn around and freeze at the sight of the one king sized bed that sits right in the middle of the room. Around it is a flowy drape they can pull closed - something to keep the sun out as it never sets, they think. At the corner of his eyes, Steve can see Bucky blush. His body shivers, his numerous dreams coming to his mind again.
âIs, um. Is that okay with you?â He asks.
âYeah. Yeah itâs fine Stevie.â He walks over and sets his bag on a small bench. They begin to set their things in the abundant storage space. Neither of them talk for the next couple of minutes, too shy, perhaps. Too caught in their own fantasies to acknowledge their separate peaks at the one bed as they eyeball the distance that will be left between them.
âIâm exhausted. Iâll hit the showers and be right back.â Bucky is first to say, a foot already out the door.
Steve sheds his clothes, leaving only his briefs on. The sheets are the softest thing heâs ever touched. Everything is plushy and so welcoming. Thereâs Buckyâs sweatshirt on the left side pillow; heâs tempted to take it and wear it, knowing heâs always cold at night. But he only pulls it close and brings it to his face, feeling the material on his heating cheeks, inhaling the masculinity of his best friend. Itâs inevitable heâs growing hard at the thought of being able to smell it directly from his neck. To have his head on his chest.Â
His free hand reaches under the band of his briefs, tentatively groping himself to try and relieve some tension. He loses himself in it though, and starts moving and twisting his hand faster. Heâs staining his underwear but he doesnât care. He knows Buckyâs hand would feel much better, much more unforgiving. Thereâs a pinch in his gut at the thought of teaching him all his sweet spots - or worse even, letting him discover them as he becomes a panting mess on this very bed.Â
âShit,â he whimpers into the balled up sweater. His hips find a slow rhythm to go along his hand movements. His dick is out of its hiding spot by now; heâs big for his frame and he needs the extra room to pump harder. The door opens but heâs too lost to notice. Thereâs another muffled moan before he hears someone clear their throat.
âSteve, I-â
âFuck! Iâm sorry.â No no no! he thinks. âBuck I didnât mean-â
âItâs fine Rogers, just... Maybe finish in the bathroom?â He suggests with an uncomfortable smile. Heâs scratching his scalp, looking anywhere around the room but the bed. When Steve doesnât budge, he allows himself to look down. His friend had simply pulled the cover over his head, and he knows Steve is cursing himself for being careless.
âYou can keep the hoodie, if youâre cold.â Steve nods no and doesnât move. âAlright,â he adds before shuffling into his spot. Heâs careful to stay along the edge of the bed, enough not to fall off but granting his friend personal space. He closes his eyes and tries to let his mind wander into sleep. Itâs no use now that heâs seen his pal touching himself like that. Not that heâd never imagined it - he was much smaller in his mind though. He didnât sound as heavenly either. Bucky had caught Steve jerking off already, their apartment being quite small for two people, but it was always discreet and he mostly had to spy on him to see anything.
The more he thinks about it, the more each scenario comes out clear. Steve had touched himself whenever they had been close, like when they got back home from the drive-in, or if Bucky walked around shirtless after a rather intense training. Steve had touched himself every time he felt bothered with Buckyâs presence, and fuck if that wasnât something heâd dreamed about.
He inhales deeply before shifting to face Steve. His hand slowly lifts and comes to rest on his friendâs shoulder, which surprisingly relaxes under his touch rather than tense up.Â
âBucky, itâs late. Iâm sorry, okay?â Itâs a half plead, half demand as the physical effects of his actions still havenât dissipated. Bucky knows from the speed of his heart when his Stevie is nervous of agitated. Or in this case aroused.
âNo. Iâm sorry Steve.â Without turning completely, Steve gives him more of his attention. His silence is enough to note his questioning. âI shouldâve realised before.â
âWh-what do you mean, Buck?â
He answers with his body rather than try to explain his thoughts out loud; Bucky could be the clumsiest person when his mind got hazy. His hand moves to Steveâs chest, and in a swift pull he brings him closer. Close enough to kiss along his shoulder, then up his neck, until his nose tickles the base of his scalp.
âBuck,â Steve shivers.
âLet me. Please Stevie,â he says, his breath warm on the poor boyâs frigid body. When he doesnât feel a protest, he lowers his hand onto his stomach, takes extra time just under his navel before he ventures under the waistband of his briefs. Heâs perfectly hard under his touch, it takes a longer stroke than he anticipated before his thumb can reach the soaked tip. Steve hums deep in his throat. Buckyâs hip jerks forward in response. Heâs already a mess and heâs only been touching him for a few seconds.
âYes,â Steve whimpers. It earns him a soft bite to the shoulder; tender action meant to stifle a moan. âBucky, donât hold back.â
âYou donât know how long Iâve wanted to hear this,â he answers.
Heâs got Steve on his stomach as soon as heâs done answering, a low grunt escapes his lips when he kneels over Steveâs legs, admiring the boyâs slender body. He snakes his hands over his shoulders, over his arms. He feels every inch of his skin as if heâd seen it for the first time. It feels new, strange even, to be able to give his pal what heâd always dreamed of; but itâs the best sentiment heâs ever experienced. From the soft moans he can pull from Steve, Bucky knows heâs enjoying this as well. Once the muscles under his touch have gone slack, he proceeds lower, kissing the trail he makes in the valley of his back. Steve jerks his hips up slightly when Buckyâs thumbs come to rest over his back dimples. Heâs longing for whatâs next; for the frightening act of intimacy.
âBucky, you donât-â Heâs cut short in his suggestion by the inevitable. He moans Buckyâs name over and over every time his tongue flattens over his puckered hole. Buckyâs at work like a hungry man whoâs just discovered the sweetest fruit. He licks and sucks and pokes intently at the flustered mess of man underneath him; and /heâs/ already done for. Heâs rock hard in his own boxers at the way he can get Steve to squirm.Â
âJa-james! Ah!â Steveâs got both hands fisting the sheet and his face flat into his pillow. He moves his hips along with the tactful intrusions. Thereâs a sticky mess already glueing his stomach to the mattress but he doesnât care. If anything it allows for the lack of friction on his aching dick. âMore. Please,â he pants.
He can hear Bucky spit but his rear is already too worn out from the previous actions to feel a thing. Thereâs a light poke, then a sting as Buckyâs slowly inching two fingers into him.Â
âSo fucking tight, Stevie. God⌠Youâre going to ruin my cock, arenât ya?â His words send shivers up their bodies.Â
âAll yours Buck,â Steve adds before choking on his words when he feels a third finger joining the others. âAlways been yours.â With that said, Steve stretches back as best he can and brings a hand to the brunetteâs hair. He plays with the curls, eyes fixed on the icy blues and his stomach tightens when Bucky leans into the touch. He moves his hand to his chin and pulls him up so their eyes are leveled.
âWill you let me take care of you now?â Bucky asks and regrets the way he phrased that.
âI can ta-â
âNo, punk.â He sighs and closes his eyes. âItâs not about bullies anymore Stevie. I want you to feel wanted. Desired. It always pissed me off to see how the ladies treated you. They donât know what theyâre missing.â Thereâs a moment of silence while Steve turns around and sits straighter. His brows furrow but he doesnât argue.
âBucky, itâs fine. Those girls didnât really have anything going for me, anyway.â
âSo⌠Will you?â Heâs still not looking at Steve. Afraid that maybe this was all he could allow himself to take. He ruined his chance, he thinks. But then Steveâs thumb comes to his chin and heâs forced to look up. The pretty blond is all smiles; the sweet pink on his cheeks warms Buckyâs heart. Steve dives in and crashes his lips to his friendâs. His boyfriend? Lover? He isnât sure yet but that doesnât matter for the night.Â
âWould that include letting me come before the morning?â Thereâs a gasp coming from Bucky as the question comes out, but he smiles and nods stupidly at Steveâs confidence. He pounces on him, their lips meeting again in a heated kiss.Â
âOnly if itâs while Iâm fucking that prefect little ass,â he taunts.
âWouldnât have it any other way,â Steve answers.
The following nights are spent identically. Several years of hidden feelings are finally being rewarded and the boys know exactly how to make up for lost time. Most of their breaks are spent in their room, in the sauna or in the private lounge each team gets to share alternatively. Between trainings and meals, before, during and after showers. Itâs an insatiable feeling to be wanted and taken care of, which never came easily to Steve until the very moment Bucky had his face between his hands and seemed to dwell into his eyes. Everything went on so quickly. Too quickly, perhaps, for Bucky soon found himself feeling guilty. Dirty. To be filling his needs with his favourite boy, while he knows heâs building a really fragile castle around them. To be imagining a life of happiness that had no place to be. Amongst the group, none seem to have caught up on their shenanigans. They were safe. Safe in the confines of this ship until the mission was over and theyâd have to go back to being best buddies; friends since playground. Itâs a thought that has Buckyâs stomach churning. Heâd been glued to bed with a pounding headache for two days, and a raging boner he kept denying Steve. This has to stop, he thinks.
The curtains rush open, startling him out of sleep. Through the bright, manipulated daylight he sees Steveâs silhouette standing in front of their window.Â
âWhatâs up, Stevie?â His voice barely makes it out of him.
âI could ask you the same,â Steve accuses right away. He can hear Bucky fall back into his pillow and grunt.
âCare to explainâŚâ
âYouâre unbelievable.â He paces, his hands on his hips. âWhatâs so hard for you to accept? I thought you realised that we had been hiding these mutual feelings. I thought you were on my side, Buck. You havenât touched me, havenât even looked at me in the eyes for a weekâŚâ
The anguish in his voice has Bucky up on his feet in a second - heâs ready to lay down his point of view but Steve retorts faster.
âLook around! Weâre in a fucking ship thatâs meant to be in space, man.â His finger taps the glass behind him. âEverything around us is astonishing progress.â
âYeah, simulated,â Bucky says.
âBut progress nonetheless. Forget what people think. Gosh I wish this thing could take us to the future. Maybe things would have changedâŚâ Bucky takes a step closer and heâs ready to fold. He wants Steve in his arms. Wants to keep his word and hold him tight. He reaches his arms out but quickly retracts when a sharp object flies over his upper arm.
âWhat the-â
Thereâs a rush of wind that sends a dozen more pieces their way. The back wall of their room is fractured, smoke coming in from the adjacent room, followed by a muffled scream. The strident screeching of metal makes it hard to focus. Alarms have gone off and an external team is running around, trying to find everyone.
It suddenly becomes hard to breathe but the medics have surged to rescue the guys who were stuck behind the flames. When Bucky turns around to grab onto Steve, he finds him lying on the ground, hands clenching his stomach and he swears that even through all the back-alley fights heâs never seen Steveâs face so contorted. A piece of steel bigger than his hand pokes out of a gash just under his left rib. Bucky knows not to pull it from him. Heâd seen the consequences first hand on the field.Â
âDonât move, donât move.â Heâs got a hand on his shoulder and the other beneath his head. Thereâs a glance around his body before heâs sure he can lift him up. Luckily, Steveâs about half the size of the guys Bucky had to carry in boot camp. He makes sure to keep the wound close to himself, and he heads towards the nearest door, the floor plan of the ship something he knows like the back of his hand.
âI got you Stevie,â Bucky says when he hears him weep.
**
Buckyâs fidgeting on the chair around the corner of two narrow hallways. His arm still burns from the alcohol-drenched bandage someone put on him while he was passed out. He turns to the one on his right. Itâs bright from all the fluorescents and much too lifeless to his liking. The same nurse keeps shuffling through the different doors with a pad in hands. His head is about to explode from all the beeping of the life support machines and the aftermath of inhaling so much smoke. Someone at the end of the hall in front of him keeps coughing and Buckyâs throat is suddenly tingling. Heâs a moment away from bolting up from his seat when Peggy walks out of the room.
âBarnes.â She has an apologetic look, but she offers a sweet smile. âHeâd like to see you.â
Thereâs a blink before he can react, before blood goes back into his legs and he can head towards her. She reaches for his arm and guides him over, stopping just before the curtain around the bed.
âNow,â she begins. âWeâve had to um⌠They did someth-â
âHeâs fine?â He practically screams.
âYes. Yes James he is fine.â She takes a step back and stretches her arm to direct him forward. He takes a deep breath, flattens his shirt over himself as a habit and nervously pulls onto the edge of the curtain.
His heart skips a beat when he lays eyes on him. He recognizes the flowy blond hair; he wants to run his hand through it. But heâs taken aback when he gets closer. The under shirt they put on him is about to burst from the width of his shoulders. His jaw, man, his jaw is square and strong, just like the rest of him. He scans him up. Once. Twice. He thinks itâs the illusion of Steve being laid down, but he knows heâs gotten taller. Before he can wonder further a hand comes to his shoulder.
âStark. What happened?â He asks, not taking his eyes off his friend.
âThe infection spread like wildfire. His frail disposition made it impossible for him to surpass this. He needed a little...boost...if I can say so.â
âWell, a boost he got!â Bucky answers a tad enthusiastically. He sees Peggy smirk and his cheeks heat up. âSorry,â he mouths.
âYes. Well. We had this experimental serum going around for a while. A project run by Dr. Erskine. It was meant to help soldiers heal faster. Make their ability to bulk up easier. Letâs say we might have dosed up a little on him.â
âIs it permanent?â
âSo far.â Peggy joins in.
âDid it... hurt?â Thereâs a new concern in Buckyâs voice. The same gut wrenching feeling he had whenever he found Steve beat up to the ground. He closes his eyes to keep the imminent tears from spilling out.Â
âDid it like a champ,â comes Steveâs voice next.
**
âSteve, listen,â Bucky begins as they walk into their apartment, bags of groceries in arms - the first one since theyâve been back from the mission. Heâs walking behind him, still astounded by the two inches Steve has won. Their elbows bump as they walk around in the kitchen - theyâve yet to adjust to the two of them taking a lot of space; the conversation of them moving out into a new place was impending.Â
âBucky, stop. I know you didnât want to hurt me.â He means it, but Steve continues to set the things away without looking at him.
âI got caught off guard, Stevie. The lady asked the question but the tone in her voice made me uncomfortable. I should have s-â
âYes. You should have said we were together. But itâs fine,â he adds. Bucky steps up and grabs one of the blondeâs hands. He brings it to his chest, over his heart, and his eyes begin to water when they get lost in his. Thereâs a synched deep breath before Bucky composes himself.
âIâm sorry.â Steveâs shoulders loosen at the small admission - he watches as Bucky kisses his fingers one by one before leaning into him. His lips come to his neck and Steve canât help but shiver. The serum surely had enhanced everything.
âWhy is it still so hard for you to acknowledge this,â Steve says as he rubs Buckyâs back. âEvery time you say âfriendâ my stomach flinches.âÂ
âStrict family. Itâs been coded into me when I was young. Every time I would hang out with you Iâd get deathly stares at the dinner table.â Steve hugs him tighter. Bucky had never mentioned this before. Never said a word about being roughed around as a kid. He feels guilty. A feeling of remorse stikes through him as he recalls the numerous times he asked Bucky to pose for his sketches. Or when he needed a hand climbing somewhere and Bucky would hold onto him /just that way/. He didnât know that his father was overlooking their every move from his office window. Didnât know that his own mother was being lectured about their behavior.
âPlus, I still look at you and kind of freak out that I donât have my little Stevie anymore. But you know⌠Iâm really looking forward to what /this/ Steve can do.â He takes a step back to better look at him. His hands are on his hard chest, making their way onto his shoulders and he can feel Steve relax under his touch. One hand moves up to his nape before settling onto the side of his face; the other has made its way south, tracing every muscle on the way down.Â
âHow about you knock some sense into me?â Bucky taunts, eyes dark and glimmery. It takes Steve out of his thought - pulls him out quite harshly in fact - but he lets the brunette palm him through the thick fabric of his chinos.Â
âBut, Buck. We always-â
âI know. But I want to, baby. At least onceâŚâ Thereâs a soft whine along Buckyâs words and Steve melts into his embrace. Their lips stand close, waiting patiently for the right opportunity; though Buckyâs hand has made its way past Steveâs zipper by now. âFor once, Stevie...please fuck me.â
Itâs beastial. The way Steve picks his lover like heâs not heavier than a pillow. How he has him pinned to the wall by their room - they had finally started sleeping in the same bed, and eventually turned the spare room into a small art studio.
It takes a minute for Buckyâs hand to land onto the door handle, and another second for his mind to command it to turn it open. Steveâs grunt follows when it finally pries wide, allowing them to adventure further. Three steps later, Bucky finds himself thrown onto the stiff mattress, shirt gone missing while strong hands are already working at the button of his pants.
âDonât break anything, Rogers.â He lifts himself onto his elbows to look down at the brusque man between his legs.
âThe only thing I might be breaking is the bed,â he begins, his words muffled as he bites down on his tongue in concentration. He looks up at the headboard. Surely this was the first time theyâd be intimate since âthe changeâ. It most likely frightens Bucky more than it does Steve. A grin autographs his next words. âWe need a new one anyway.â And with that he hooks his fingers into the waistband of both Buckyâs pants and underwear, and glides them off his thighs.
âAlways so fucking hard for me,â Steve growls. âNo wonder, you had /me/ on my back like that. I could get used to this view.â
âDonât linger, Stevie.â Buckyâs words are low, but stern. His hips buck in agreement.
âWas I so whiny all the time?â They both chuckle before Bucky swats him on the chest.
âOnly when I was balls deep in that fantastic ass,â he answers, both hands on the plump flesh he mentioned. The action causes Steve to grind into him - and heâd be lying if he said that wasnât the plan all along. Bruises would appear on his shoulders the next day with how hard Steveâs biting down on them.
âI swear to God-" The enhanced man has his prey on his stomach in a flash, barely taking a breath of effort. He reaches forward to present two fingers to Bucky who gladly coats them in a generous amount of saliva. A hum rumbles into his chest when he feels them swipe over his hole, Steve taking his turn in exploring his man. The stretch is new, although Bucky had done this to himself in the past. The sweet tickling feeling of the intrusion is brain numbing. He's not sure heâs going to last. Surely Steveâs new physique could give more than he bargained for.
âHoly shit,â he cries when he feels the head of his dick press against him. They both moan when Steve inches into him with ease until his hips meet with Buckyâs ass and he stops, giving both of them a moment to adjust.
âNever thought it would be this good,â the blond grunts, eyes shut as he focuses on not painting the walls that so tightly envelop him. He pulls out just a tad, before pushing back in and establishing a smooth rhythm. Bucky contorts and mewls beneath him, his eyes go white as they roll to the back of his head.
âLike that, huh?â Steve asks. âI sure as hell fucking like it.â
Bucky can only make faint noises. Steves and ahs and what not escape his lips in the smoothest symphony Steve has ever heard. Heâs fucking him relentless, unsure of how he can even get his hips to move this way as he never found himself in this exact position. But heâs going. And going. And heâs loving every moment, so much so that heâs not sure he can ever go back to the old ways. Inevitably him or Bucky would succumb. Both giving and receiving felt amazing, but heâd always be Jamesâ little Stevie.
âYou take me so well, fuck,â he adds.
âSte-eve.â
âI know. Poor little face is all red and hot. Youâre so close, love.â The praise comes naturally from Steve, but it seems to have Bucky blushing even more. He bends down and snakes an arm under Bucky so his hand can come around and hook onto his neck. His right knee spreads his legs even further, allowing him to bottom down into him; the head of his cock nudges that sweet spot and as if the words werenât enough, it has Bucky pulsing and making a mess on the bed.
âFuck fuck fuck!â He exclaims as he empties himself completely while Steve still pounds into him. He reaches back and grabs his lover by the head to bring him in for a heated kiss. A moment later itâs Steveâs turn to fall over the edge. He groans and shakes as he gives three more thrusts before pulling out and letting his seed splatter over the spent brunetteâs back. Hot spurts reach up to his shoulders and onto his cheek. Steve is quick to lean forward and lick him clean.
âSo good,â he says.
âStevie, thatâs your own cum,â Bucky replies with a shy smile. Whoâd have thought Steven Rogers would be the kinky one.
âMmm. And?â
âAnd⌠I want some.â They both chuckle before Bucky can grab onto the manâs broad shoulders and fetch what he wanted.
#rae'sausummer#rssummerofaus#challenge entry#my writing#stucky smut#steve x bucky#space au#stucky space au
40 notes
¡
View notes
Note
For the prompt: Unbind me + actual, sci-fi/fantasy binds
SORRY THIS TOOK SO LOOOONG i had trouble writing it and i am not sure why? i know why itâs because i canât do soft fluffy stuff it took literal months and i apologize, i have had the worst writerâs block. also i uh i guess i kinda wandered away from the initial prompt? but here we are, iâm actually fairly happy with this nonsense.
nanoni belongs to @lisauras and these nerds asked me to tag them because they like me or something??? @gingerly-writing @haphazardlyparked @kclenhartnovels @lux-scriptum @knightedwriter
Mal does not like mages.
Sheishaâs an exception, of course, and, sometimes, so is Keo, when heâs being quiet and useful. But otherwise, mages are a nuisance at best, and a travesty at worse.
This one is somewhere in between, but he continues to slip closer and closer to the travesty side of things. Mal crosses his fingers behind his head, the pastel blue bands wrapped around his wrists tugging at the peripheries of his vision. Black veins wrap through the magical constraints - Keo would call it a sign of haihaiÄ magic. Unholy, unhealthy, forbidden, and perfect for a double-dealing haole bastard.
More of the bands encircle his ankles, and there is one more around his neck that, unlike the other four, Mal could actually feel, like an itch that wonât go away. That means - something. He isnât sure what. Mal is so completely devoid of magic that he canât really feel the slight fizz or whatever that most everyone else does. Heâs fine with that.
No bars or doors stop him from getting off his cot and wandering around the building, but Mal doesnât bother. Reddingâs spell stops him at the threshold of any exit and window, and prevents Mal from getting within armâs reach of the man. This is unfortunate, because Malukoâoi longs to stab him through the neck.
He hears Reddingâs shuffling limp stop at the doorless entry to the small room Mal had claimed the night before. Instead of acknowledging the mage, Mal closes his eyes.
âGet up,â Redding demands, his voice gruff. Mal ignores him, until Redding sighs, adds, âYour wife is here.â
Malâs reluctance evaporates. He swings his bare feet over the side of the cot to stand. Redding has to crane his neck to squint up the near foot of height difference.
âShe brought your daughter, as well,â Redding says. Mal is careful to keep his expression blank. âPerhaps not the wisest choice she could have made.â
He looks expectantly at Mal, but eventually Malâs bland stare disappoints the mage. Redding huffs, then jerks his head to the side. As the older man scratches his short, salt-and-pepper beard, Mal follows.
Redding has designated an old warehouse on the very edge of a near-dead town to meet with Nanoni. It had probably stored farming or construction equipment, once upon a time, but now itâs dusty and empty, though a corner of the top floor shows evidence of Redding having camped out for a few days. The cot, for example, that he, surprisingly, hadnât forced Mal to give up the night before, once the islanderâs resigned himself to being held for ransom.
At the very least, Redding doesnât talk overmuch. Mal doubts he could handle it if the bastard is smug and gloating. He stands silently in the middle of the open bottom floor, and Mal stays as close as the spell allows him. He crosses his arms over his chest while they wait, rocking back on his heels.
For once, Nanoni is on time. Mal doesnât doubt that she and Sheisha have already scouted out the warehouse, but heâs glad she isnât going to play games.
His wife is rattled. Itâs difficult to tell for anyone who doesnât know her well, but Mal can see it in the way Nanoni stalks across the warehouse floor. Her lips are pressed into a small, tight smile, but while Nanoni at least makes an effort to hide her anger, Sheisha does not. Shorter than her mother by a good six inches, Sheisha otherwise looks like the spitting image of Nanoni, kicking the warehouse door shut behind her so that the slam of it echoes through the room. Malâs lips twitch towards a smile when Redding flinches. Regardless, Mal holds one hand to the side in a calming motion - this isnât how Sheisha should behave during business exchanges.
Sheisha scoffs and rolls her eyes.
âDarling, are you all right?â Nanoni asks, her glance skipping right over Redding as if he doesnât exist. Malukoâoi gives one single nod and the slightest hint of a smile in return, and watches her relax by a millimeter.
Redding taps his cane against the floor. âThatâs close enough,â he says mildly, and Nanoni stops a few yards away, shifting her weight onto her right foot. Sheisha stays so close behind her mother that she nearly bumps into her.
Nanoni flicks a finger at the blue bands Mal wore. âWhat are those?â she asks, her voice taut. Redding doesnât look away from the cloth-wrapped bundle Sheisha carries. It looks like theyâve taken one of the hotel blankets to make an impromptu wrapping for the vase.
âMerely restraints,â Redding says, waving a dismissive hand. âI didnât fancy getting murdered in my sleep. Put the urn down, please.â
Nanoni tilts her head towards Sheisha, but the teenage girl hesitates. âArenât we going to make him let Dad go, first?â she hisses at her mother, speaking Kamean. Nanoni keeps her eyes on Mal.
âSweetheart,â she says, âjust play along for now. Weâll sort things out in a moment.â
Growling in frustration, Sheisha stomps forward until Redding motions for her to stop, midway between him and Nanoni. Sheisha opens her arms, dropping bundle to the ground with a muffled clang.
This time, both Malukoâoi and Redding wince.
âIf youâve broken it, you stupid girl,â Redding snaps, showing the first sign of frustration Mal has ever seen in him. Both Malukoâoi and Nanoni whip their heads around to glare at him, Nanoniâs hand disappearing behind her back. Redding narrows his eyes and wisely swallows whatever he had been about to say.
âRelax,â Sheisha says in a flat voice. âItâs copper.â
Itâs also completely useless, but none of them were going to tell Redding that. Whatever curse the urn once held, it faded years ago. Even legendary magic doesnât last forever.
Redding takes a quiet breath that Mal barely hears, and then forces a smile on his face. He shuffles forward as Sheisha backs away, her arms crossing over her chest with her fingers digging into her skin. She chews on the end of her long black braid, a habit her parents had tried - and failed - to break for years.
The three Neokois stand there in silence as Redding, with obvious difficulty, kneels to inspect the vase, partially unwrapping it. After a moment, he grunts and stands, hefting the bundle under his free arm.
âRedding,â Nanoni snaps. He makes it to the exit before turning to give them a thin smile, and then taps his cane against the ground. The bands around Malukoâoiâs neck, arms, and ankles disappear, and Nanoniâs composure finally cracks.
She rushes towards him, just shy of running; Malâs quick to meet her, one hand circling around her back, and the other getting lost in her hair before his mouth is on hers.
Itâs the easiest way for him to let her know heâs all right.
Sheisha pauses just to the side, as eager as her parents, but hesitant to interrupt. Nanoni breaks away, then nuzzles into his collarbone. Her hands curl into fists against his chest.
âIâll tear him apart,â she promised, her voice low. Mal grins into her hair, but then he shakes his head.
âNo need,â he murmurs. They can worry about Redding later; Malukoâoi just wants to see the back of him, for now. He shoots the limping mage a look over Nanoniâs head, and Redding coughs, straightening as he uses his cane to shove open the door.
âIâd say enjoy what short time you have left,â Redding says blithely, angling the top of his cane in Malukoâoiâs direction. The knob of black glass on top of it flashes blue. âBut I donât think you will.â
Nanoni pulls away slightly, frowning. Mal lifts a hand to his neck. It itches.
âWhat was that?â Sheisha demands, whipping around so quickly her braid bats against Malâs side. Nanoni sucks in a sudden breath, and Mal looks down to find his hand wrapped around her throat.
âMal,â she starts, but then his foot snakes behind her ankle, and Malukoâoi slams his wife to the ground.
He stares at her for one horrified second. The black-veined bonds are back around his wrists, and Mal opens his mouth to tell Nanoni heâs sorry, he hadnât meant to - hadnât even realized heâd done that until theyâre both on the ground, his knee on her torso, thumbs pressing against her windpipe.
But instead of saying anything, Mal chokes.
âDad!â Sheishaâs voice is a startled yelp. He catches her moving towards him from the corner of his vision, and his hands let go of Nanoni. Instead, as Sheisha closes in, they latch onto her, and he flips his daughter over his shoulders.
Itâs enough of a distraction for Nanoni to eel her way out from under Mal. Sheisha hits the ground with a grunt, and Mal straightens up, bouncing his weight to the balls of his feet.
What is he doing?
âMaluko'oi!â Nanoni snaps angrily, one hand going to her throat as she scrambles to her feet. He tries again to speak, to tell her that he hadnât meant to, that this wasnât him - but the band around his neck tightens and burns.
âYou islanders make your men so obedient,â Redding says dryly. âNot an ounce of willpower. This was far too easy.â
âKanapapiki!â Sheisha shouts. She rolls to her feet and rushes for the door. Mal, without thinking about it, without even wanting nothing but to crush Reddingâs skull against the pavement, takes three long steps and catches Sheisha around the middle.
âMal!â Nanoni shouts. âStop it!â
He canât stop himself. Something has - has split Mal away from part of himself, separating his mind from any control of his body. He kicks Sheishaâs feet out from under her, and as she drops, turns to meet his wife. From the corner of his eye, he sees Redding leave the building. Thick bars of blue magic appear across the door, locking them in.
Nanoni swings a fist at him. Mal blocks it with ease, shifting his weight forward to strike back. It isnât someone controlling him, he realizes, as Nanoni skips away from his sudden barrage. These are all his moves, his reflexes and anticipations. He knows how Nanoni fights, and so he knows exactly how to block her, exactly how sheâll strike next.
And he knows when sheâs distracting him.
He catches Nanoniâs fist and uses it to push her away, turning as he does so. Sheishaâs rushing him from behind, and she bounces one foot up into a high kick that Mal blocks with his shoulder, bracing against her painful impact. She rebounds off him with a force that will bruise Mal for days, but instead of pursuing, he returns his attention to Nanoni.
Heâs too slow. Her elbow cracks into his jaw and he stumbles back. Mal - or whatever it is controlling him - remembers Sheisha behind him, and swings around to lash out. She slides easily under his guard, thumping his ribs before she flashes to her motherâs side. Mal stumbles one step, but his fists lift even as his hopes rise.
Malukoâoiâs sparred with Sheisha and Nanoni millions of times. Heâs trained Sheisha; even as he knows all their tricks, they know all of his. And they beat him nine times out of ten. Both of them together could easily take him down.
He tries not to think how most of the time they spar, he holds back.
Nanoni makes it easy for him not to think. She swings a fist towards his stomach, and as he blocks it, strikes him again across the face, a blow that rings in his ears. Sheisha hangs back, and Mal clenches his teeth, wondering why.
âSnap out of it, Mal!â Nanoni skips away from him as he retaliates. He reaches for her, and she slides around him, kicking the back of his leg. Mal drops to one knee, but instead of following up, both Nanoni and Sheisha back away.
They could take him.
âDad, please - you have to stop,â Sheisha begs, as he advances on them again.
Why did they hold back?
His daughter slips under his swing; Nanoni comes in to run interference, and Mal winces internally as he hits her on the ribs. Sheisha darts in, tripping him up.
They have weapons, Mal thinks with a snarl, feeling a slow anger welling up. They have weapons, they need to use them. He wants to yell, to curse, to tell them that heâs sorry, heâs so, so sorry, why did they hold back -
Sheisha isnât fast enough.
He slams a fist into the side of her head, and she crumples. Malukoâoi freezes in shock, eyes wide. For one split second, he snaps back into himself.
Sheisha isnât moving.
Mal stares down at her, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes.
âSheisha!â
Nanoni stares at her daughterâs still form, and then turns her glare on Mal. Knives appear in her hands and Mal, hating himself more and more with every passing second, can only think, Finally.
âThat is our daughter!â Nanoni yells, furious and enraged. Mal shifts back as she runs towards him. He snarls silently in frustration as, once again, his body moves without thought. For the first time, though, Nanoni has him retreating; he has nothing to keep her knives from slicing into his skin.
He moves back with the grace a lifetime of dancing lends him, but not quickly enough to prevent a handful of shallow cuts on his arms, as Malukoâoi blocks Nanoni from gutting him like a fish. Sheâs furious, and the longer they fight, with Nanoni trying to duck under her husbandâs guard, the sloppier her attacks become, until Mal grabs her wrist.
The follow-through action is to give her arm a cruel twist, force her to drop the knife and break her wrist. His breath catches - he wonât do it, he canât, this is his wife -
He hesitates halfway through, just before Nanoniâs arm would snap, his grip on her arm tight as they stare at each other. Then Nanoni stabs him in the ribs.
Mal sucks in a sharp breath, but instead of letting go, backing away, he pushes forward. The pain in his side flares as Mal bulls Nanoni to the ground. He traps both her hands above her head, straddling her waist with his knees. Pinning both her wrists down with one hand, Mal reaches to his side, and pulls Nanoniâs knife from his ribs.
Pain swamps his mind. Under any other circumstances, even Malukoâoi would have been laid low by such a dumb stunt. Pele, how long will it take him to bleed out -
When his vision clears, Mal realizes heâs pressing the knife up against Nanoniâs throat. All the pain disappears, overwhelmed by a sheer, panicked abhorrence.
The part of him thatâs been split and shoved aside screams and struggles for control, as futile as grabbing at sunlight on the waves. Nanoni bucks beneath him, and the knife slides against her skin, leaving behind a thin red cut along the side of her neck.
NO.
Malukoâoi freezes. He canât make himself let go of Nanoni, let her up - but he forces his hand to stop, the knifeâs edge resting against her skin. Nanoni stills, staring wide-eyed up at him.
A tear drops onto the bloodied steel of the knife, leaving behind a track against the red. Malâs hand shakes, trying so hard to finish the job - but he refuses. The band around his neck burns, constricts until he can barely breathe. Through a haze of pain and tears, Mal sees his wife smile.
Thereâs a sting in the side of his neck.
Mal blinks and looks away from Nanoni, to see Sheisha plunge another handful of paper-thin needles into his arm.
Theyâre coated in enough sedative to drop an elephant; maybe even enough to drop Mal. He knows this, because heâs the one who prepares the sedative for her. His arm goes numb, his hold slackening on the knife and Nanoniâs wrists. She twists her hands free, grabs his shirt, and rolls them both over. Heâs out before his head hits the ground.
Malukoâoi wakes up to a dim room, staring at the ceiling. His neck burns and his head pounds; he closes his eyes again. Aches and pains litter his body, but not even the stab wound in his ribs is bad enough for him to worry over right now. It will heal.
But what heâs done to his family -
He puts a hand over his face, gritting his teeth against a ragged breath and holding it in until he can trust himself not to sob. Someone shifts to his right, reaches out to touch his shoulder. He doesnât need to look to know who it is.
âMalukoâoi,â Nanoni says quietly. âDarling, you slept for far too long, I was so worried.â
When he doesnât answer, Nanoni takes his wrist and gently tugs his hand away from his eyes. Mal knows heâs acting like a child, but he turns his head the other way, terrified that he isnât strong enough to keep Reddingâs filthy spell from controlling him again if he looks at Nanoni.
Her voice is a little sharper this time. âMal, donât be ridiculous. Iâve seen you cry before, love, thereâs nothing to be ashamed of.â
He attacked his wife. Mal attacked his wife, and his daughter, and he would have killed them. Nanoniâs hand slips into his own, and when he moves to sit up - his right arm and hand still feel a little lifeless - sheâs there with an arm to brace his back.
He fumbles the blanket back with his numb, unfeeling hand, and slips the other out of Nanoniâs grip. Before she can protest, Mal slides out of the bed and straight to his knees onto the floor.
âOh, Mal, what are you doing,â Nanoni sighs with impatience. âYou should stay in bed -â
Mal hates talking, even more than he hates mages. His tongue is not silver; instead, it is a leaden weight inside his mouth, one that takes effort to move. But he canât stay silent on this matter - and yet, his mind is completely blank. He clenches his fists on top of his knees, trying to force himself to speak.
All he says is the rote, âNanoni, I am sorry. Please forgive me.â
Mal winces at how pathetic, how utterly inadequate the words are. He should be begging, but his mouth closes instead, and Mal stares at Nanoniâs feet, his mind completely blank of words, but his insides twisting with so much guilt and sorrow and fury at himself that he wants to heave.
Nanoni sighs, and then moves to her knees as well. Mal starts to look away, but she catches his face before he can, tips his gaze up from pointing at the floor. He freezes in panic when he sees her, his breath catching.
Nothing happens. Mal remains where he is, his hands gripping his knees so tightly that both ache, but his body is his own, and stays where it is. Nanoni brushes a hand over his tear-stained cheek, then wraps it gently around the back of his neck. Malukoâoi closes the distance, pressing his forehead and nose against hers and closing his eyes.
They breathe in each otherâs air, and Malukoâoi feels himself relax. He can never tell if the overwhelming love he feels, mere seconds into their hongi, is his or Nanoniâs or both, but it soothes him for a moment, forms the base for whatâs to come next.
Anger, sharp and hot, for what Redding had done to them, and guilt, for having to hurt each other. Mal puts a steadying hand on Nanoniâs waist, feels her take a shuddering breath, and knows that heâs not in much better shape. But there is no healing without pain, and so Mal lets himself feel it from Nanoniâs point of view, tears rolling down his cheeks.
And then heâs hit with a wave of comfort and forgiveness, so hard that he has to bite his tongue to stifle a sob. Malâs first reflex is almost to break away - he hardly deserves this, he hurt her - but Nanoniâs hand on the back of his neck holds him in place, and then he realizes that these are Nanoniâs reactions as much as his.
An extended hongi is exhausting, but they ride it out together, and at the end of it, Mal feels - well, not good, but better. The pain is there, but dulled with understanding. Nanoni does not hate him.
She does not hate him.
Theyâre both crying when they break the hongi. Nanoni shifts angles and kisses him, deeply, before she pulls away.
âOh, ipo, of course I forgive you,â she tells him, cupping his cheek in one hand. âHow could you ever think otherwise?â
Mal gives her a slight grin, and then leans forward, kissing the tears off her cheeks until she lets out a surprised laugh.
âGet off the floor, Mal, I donât know the last time itâs been vacuumed,â she tells him, taking him by the elbows. He obeys, and lets out a surprised hiss as the knife wound in his side stretches. Mal shakes his head at the sharp look she gives him, but he does not stop her as she lifts his shirt.
A neat patch of bandaging covers the wound. âWe had a doctor put in stitches,â Nanoni says, pushing Mal gently back onto the bed. At his questioning look, she adds, âWeâre still in town.â
A chair is next to the bed, and when Nanoni sits, she sits so close their knees are in between each otherâs. Mal takes in the decades-old wallpaper and the tacky hotel furniture as she goes on, his hands in hers.
âSheisha is fine,â she adds, addressing his concerns before he could give voice. âSheâs sleeping in the other room. We called Keo and had him put you under a sleep spell, and then I went after Redding.â
Nanoni heaves a sigh. âHeâs going to Ember Island, Mal. The royal investigators arrested him on the spot. I wanted to kill him - I would have, butâŚâ
Her voice trails off, and Mal waits patiently for her to look up from tracing lines in his palm. âShe has a concussion - oh, love, it isnât a very bad one,â Nanoni adds, looking up as Mal winces. He looks down again. âSheâll be just fine with a little bit of rest. I left her with Keo, to watch over you, but then - but then she caught up.â
Pursing her lips, Nanoni stares off at some point in the wall over Malâs shoulder. âShe wouldnât have stopped me. She would have done it herself, I think, but - well, that isnât her place, is it?â
It isnât Nanoniâs, either. Malâs killed before, and heâs sure he will again; it isnât a burden he wishes for either of them to carry.
âThank you,â he says, softly, and brings her hand up to his lips. Nanoni smiles a weary smile.
âWe can always get someone inside the prison to finish him off,â she decides, and Mal smiles against her knuckles. âLet me see the back of your neck, that spell of his left some nasty burns.â
Obediently, he leans forward, resting his head against Nanoniâs chest. The burns canât be that nasty, if he hardly feels them; thereâs a bit of renewed pain as Nanoniâs fingers skim over the reddened skin, but Mal can ignore that. It will heal.
He tries, again, for words. âNanoniâŚâ
âDarling, you donât need to say anything. I know.â
âYou donât.â Malukoâoi catches her hand as it slips through his hair while he leans back. Nanoni did not bruise easily, and yet there they are, small dark fingerprints against her brown skin where heâd nearly snapped her arm in half. Tears prickle at his eyes again, and he curses himself softly. Heâs acting like a child, crying at the slightest instigation. âYou donât, because I donât say anything.â
Nanoni takes in a breath to speak, and then stops, gives him a patient look. Mal presses a kiss into the palm of her hand, trying to put his thoughts into an order that will come out as words. It takes far, far too long. Nanoni waits, patient for him when she isnât for anyone else.
âYou are,â he says slowly, looking down at their intertwined hands, âheart of my heart. I would have never - never hurt you.â
Except he did. He did, and it doesnât matter that Redding had spelled him. Malukoâoi hadnât been strong enough to stop himself.
âI just need you to know that,â he struggles to say, âthere is nothing in me that - that has ever wanted to do you harm. To you, or Sheisha.â
âMal, honey, I know,â Nanoni says, her words just as quiet and somber. âI never doubted otherwise.â
He lifts his gaze, but Malâs eyes snag instead on a thin red line along the side of Nanoniâs neck, cleaned up and already starting to heal. Mal reaches up and skims his fingertips over it.
Nanoni sucks in a sharp breath, her hands in Malâs lap squeezing into fists. He snatches his hand back like heâs been burned - or like heâs burned his wife - and looks away again, closing his eyes against a flood of tears.
âMal -â
âIâm sorry,â he chokes out, fighting every impulse to run. Â Nanoni wraps her hands around each of his wrists, and he resists a little - only a little - as she tugs at them.
âMalukoâoi, look at me,â Nanoni says sternly. He obeys, out of habit, because he will do anything and everything she ever asks of him, even when his stomach churns, even when this is somehow the hardest thing heâs ever done.
Nanoni takes each of his hands and places them on either side of her neck. He stiffens, even though there is no reason to fear himself losing control again.
âHeart of my heart,â Nanoni tells him, âI trust you. I always will, Â and nothing you could do will ever change that. â
She drops her hands and Mal just cradles her face for a moment. Nanoni gives out a small laugh.
âAfter such a pretty apology, I donât know how to say sorry for being the one to do any permanent harm.â Her hand slips up under his shirt, skimming over the gauze taped to his ribs. Mal scoffs quietly.
âYou didnât have a choice, I was trying to kill you,â he reminds her. And itâs hardly permanent, anyway.
âNo, you were trying to stop it,â Nanoni says instantly. âI could see it, love, anyone could.â
She leans in to give him another kiss. Mal moves his hands down to her waist, and Nanoni murmurs, âBut if you ever hurt our daughter again, Iâll shoot you.â
Mal laughs, startled and pleased, and leans back onto the bed, tugging Nanoni with him.
âI wouldnât want anything else,â he tells her.
31 notes
¡
View notes
Note
Hey happy early birthday! I'm a recent follower to your blog but I love your plance works a lot. So I decided to send in a prompt because I love this idea but I'm not very good a writing so here it is. Prompt: November 3rd plance woth ice skates. It doesn't have to be a crossover I just wanted to use my birthday for this
Crossover with Meet Cute and Plance with ice skates!
Thank you for the birthday wishes! I did research to sneak in a reference to actually fulfill the crossover requirements. I also tried to do a bit of research on figure skating in general, so I hope Iâm not too off.
~~~~~
Pidge tugged on the spandex near her chest, examining the emerald green sequence in the full body mirror. Her mouth moved from side to side and her nose scrunched up as she scrutinized every detail of her new outfit.
She turned to view herself from the side. The bodice itself was amazingly comfortable, something she rarely felt with even her jeans and sweatshirt these days. It didnât have near as much sparkle as professional skaters, but Pidge was still pleased to have beading in the shape of leaves. A short asymmetrical skirt of darker green was sewed tightly around the waist. Pidge turned so that the shorter end of the skirt faced the mirror. She took a moment to adjust her ponytail, also angled on the same side.
She adjusted her sleeves last. Beads flowed down her arms like vines and per the design intent. Solid forest green cloth made a sort of cufflinks for her wrists, a single golden bead a little larger than the rest sat facing outwards.
Pidge turned to face the mirror fully. She braced her hands on her hips and nodded. The outfit had her approval.
She unlocked the door behind her and exited the dressing room.
Lance lifted his head as she approached. He uncrossed his legs and sat up from the chair in the waiting area. He smiled brightly as he took her in. âYou look beautiful, if I do say so myself,â he preened.
âIt is pretty cute,â Pidge admitted. A side grin of her own in place. She twirled around once, enjoying the feeling of the skirt. âItâs comfortable and not too flashy. Although you really didnât have to add so many beads.â
âI wanted to,â Lance insisted. He stood and strode over to her, looking over the outfit itself with an expert eye. âSomething doesnât look right, one sec.â He unhooked his leather bracelet and stretched it out. He knelt down on one kneed and used the measuring tool to double check his work. He frowned. âThe skirt is a little too long for what you wanted. I can trim it if you want,â he told Pidge as he looked up at her.
Pidge gulped. She probably shouldnât have blushed, but seeing him down on one knee as he was gave her an out of body experience. Theyâd not been dating that long, but theyâd been friends in grade school. She could see it in his eyes, that sparkle every time heâd see her enter a room, like he had been waiting his whole life for this moment. Theyâd talked about marriage intermittently, but she knew this wasnât it.
Lance was a romantic. It was Pidgeâs only certainty that when he did get around to a proposal, it would be one for Hollywood. Today was not that day. Whatever their future held it was going to be after Pidge finished her masters.
Which brought them to where they were now. She was two weeks out. Her paper was finished, but she needed practice for the demonstration that would go with her defense. It wasnât anything groundbreaking or new, but it would prove she comprehensively knew what she was talking about.
âHow much longer is it?â Pidge asked.
âA half inch,â Lance told her as he stood up. âSorry, I know you were really specific with the measurements.â
âThat little wonât make a difference, the extra weight is well within the margin of error. Or, at least it shouldnât,â she corrected. âLet me get out on the ice and test it.â
âLet me get mine too,â Lance said. âIâll join you. We havenât skated together in like, forever.â
Pidge raised an eyebrow and gave him an exasperated grin. âWe were at the park last week.â
âStill feels like forever,â he said. He took the opportunity to steal a quick kiss on her cheek.
âYouâre such a flirt,â she chastised, not at all mean spirited.
âOnly for you, Pidge. Only for you.â
~~~~~
It didnât matter how many times she stepped onto the ice. Each time she first picked up speed and soared across the rink was freeing. Pidge allowed herself to glide, testing for any bumps in the surface. Not finding any, she landed herself a single toe loop to further warm herself up.
Weaving back and forth, she skated back towards the entry and propped herself up against the boards. Lance had just finished lacing up and hopped onto the ice with her.
âIt took you long enough,â Pidge teased, until she looked down and her eyes widened. âWhy are you wearing hockey skates?â
Lance skated around her and leaned over the boards. He made a point to look completely displeased. âLeft them at home I guess. I now owe Keith a favor so I could use his skates.â
Pidge laughed despite it all. âIs that really all that terrible to owe Keith a favor?â
âYes,â Lance said dryly. âJunior Worlds is coming up soon. Heâs probably going to make me take care of his crazy cat again.â He rested his chin in the palm of his hand, having every intent to sulk this through.
Pidge couldnât help but laugh. âRed likes you just fine. I think you two just have different expectations of each other.â She leaned in, wrapping him in a hug. âYouâre out here now, might as well enjoy it.â
She felt Lance relax completely at her contact. His scowl turned quickly into a soft smile. âI wouldnât miss a chance to skate with you while youâre all dressed up and gorgeous like this.â
Pidge blushed and found herself letting a chuckle loose. âYou are the cheesiest person I know.â She took his hands with hers and led him out onto the ice. âOutfit felt pretty good in the warm up, but I want to make sure it works for the whole routine. Spot me?â
âOf course. Go for it,â he said, letting their hands separate and letting her take center stage.
Pidge began to build up speed, not concerned that Lance was still on the ice with her. He knew her routine nearly as well as she did and heâd skate out of the way if need be.
The idea was simple in thought. Nothing she was doing hadnât been done before. She was going over the physics of figure skating; the conservation of momentum for spinning and moment of inertia for jumps. This was all based on her body though. All the science was her weight, her height, her speed, her routine. It would just go to prove that she could do the math and have the credentials to coach others.
Ultimately what she wanted was to be able to do was design the equipment. There was always a way to make things better, and that was exactly what she was going to do.
She and Lance made a good team that way. She would streamline and he would make it beautiful.
Pidge turned to skate backwards, looking behind her to see where she was going. She was by no means a professional, but she was still good at this. Gliding at her preferred angle, she lifted herself into a double salchow, landing with ease.
She didnât bother with the artistry as she skated down the long side of the rink. It had never been her thing, only having focused on it when she was much younger and much newer to the sport.
Clapping interrupted her. She was used to a few dozen hands, but Lanceâs were the only ones today so it was a bit jarring.
âSmile!â Lance shouted at her. âPut a little flair to it! Show âem what you can do!â
Well, Pidge thought, he did make the costume.
She began to move her arms more liberally. An extra gesture here, and a motion there. Brining her hands in and out from her chest at various intervals had always seemed to work when she was younger.
âHappy?â she asked with a smirk as she passed him on her way to the next jump.
âPerfect!â he replied. The double toe loop landed just right.
One more jump, a double axel. Well, two really, sheâd follow it up with a single. The routine was as easy as breathing by this point. Nothing strenuous except knowing sheâd be grilled after doing this for a panel of her professors.
She took her time skating around the rink, not really wanting the speed to end.
Pidge nearly fell when she felt Lance skate up to her from behind. âMind if I join?â he asked. Even concentrating on her movements, Pidge could tell he was in a mischievous mood.
âWhat are you up to?â she questioned suspiciously.
âI got too caught up in watching you I couldnât wait to participate. If I launch you, do you think you could still do the double?â
It had been high school the last time the two of them had done a jump in pairs. Pidge made sure her face showed all the concern she felt about it. âThat was a long time ago. Maybe? I couldnât guarantee a double, but a single I could probably still do.â
Lance lit up. âGood! Thatâs all! Let me know when youâre ready.â
Pidge rolled her eyes. She was happy to indulge him though. His hands felt right around her waist and even though it had been a long time, she trusted him completely not to let her fall.
âOne loop around the rink. Iâll give the nod,â Pidge said.
He kissed her temple. âThanks, Pidge,â he said softly.
âThank me after I donât fall,â she quipped.
They traveled together as close as they could, falling easily and comfortably into the old habit. Pidge savored the time. Cuddling on the couch was one thing, but trusting one another this close with blades on their feet was a different story.
And she did trust him. With everything.
Reaching their full loop, Pidge turned to face Lance, letting him steer them around the corners. âReady when you are,â she told him.
âOkay, here we go then,â Lance said. âOne, two, three!â On the count he lifted Pidge into the air and she twisted her body to give the the two full rotations. Lance helped, twisting her body with his hands.
Pidge got her rotations. Sheâd grown stronger since high school though, and had perfected her technique even more. Lance had gotten stronger too. Combined with the angular momentum, she had really enough time for a triple, something she was entirely unprepared for. With a yelp, she landed square on her bum.
Lance came to her side right away, his face bordering on panic. âPidge are you alright? Iâm so sorry.â
âIâm fine, Iâm fine,â she insisted. She took his offered hand to get up. âJust a sore butt,â she said as she rubbed it, wincing only slightly. âItâll pass in a minute.â
Lance sighed in visible relief. âGood, I was worried a blade might have gotten your arm with the fall.â
Pidge smiled to disarm his worries. âNo, Iâm definitely fine. This actually helps add to my report. My body has changed since high school. I canât do jumps the same way I did back then.â
âGood! Because youâll need to be healthy to enjoy this.â
He shoved two small pieces of paper in Pidgeâs face. She took them and she gaped at what was printed on them. âIsâŚis this what it really says it is?â
Lance nodded, smile getting bigger with pride. âIf youâre reading them as tickets to this years Grand Prix, then yes, it is.â
Pidge held the tickets to the biggest professional figure skating competition close to her chest. âLanceâŚthis is amazing! You didnât have to!â
âI wanted to,â he insisted. âYouâve been working really hard and once you finish school youâre going to need a break. So weâre going to the Grand Prix for starters.â
Pidge engulfed him in the biggest hug she could muster. âThanks Lance, this is the best. I canât wait until we can go.â She let go after a moment and slid away, crossing her arms. âBut first I need to present to the panel, so I have to practice - without interruption,â she said pointedly.
âEven if the interruptions are for very important matters?â Lance said, pushing himself forward and gracefully twirling around so that he could hug her from behind, kissing the top of her head.
âYouâve already given me your surprise, what else could you possibly have in store?â
Lance continued to hold in her in a one handed hug, while his other hand soon produced a small black box. âI know youâre not much for traditions, but I wanted to make sure I beat you to the punch.â
Pidge knew what was in the box, but she opened in anyway. âYou sneak!â she angrily. âYou canât butter me up with those tickets and then give me this!â
Lance kissed her cheek. âIs that a yes?â he asked, laughter prevalent in his voice.
âOf course itâs a yes,â she confirmed, a bit more exasperated. Pidge knew she should be more emotional for this moment, but Lance always had a way of subverting expectations. âYou know I canât wear the stupid thing yet, itâll throw me off.â
He sighed dramatically. âThen I guess Iâll have to wear it until youâre ready for it. On my pinky finger if I have to.â
Perhaps it had been the long day, the exercise, or just the significance of the moment, because so many major things were happening in her life right now, but Pidge burst out laughing. She leaned up against Lance, who in turn starting to giggle and laugh himself. The both of them couldnât stop, falling down to the ice in each otherâs embrace.
The answer must be all of the above.
#voltron legendary defender#vld fanfic#plance#pidgeance#rueitae#my writing#ask#I had a lot of fun with this one!
52 notes
¡
View notes
Text
OTOGE HANAMI
Hey, folks! Iâm here to introduce ( and advertise ) a collaborative project dedicated to otoge! You all can call me Pita (or Lizzy, whichever you prefer), Iâm one of the hosts of this project!
WHAT IS OTOGE HANAMI?
Otoge Hanami (Otoge Flower Viewing) is our collaborative project in which both artists and writers with a passion for otoge come together! it's certainly not a paid-project, more so meant to be a digital gallery expressing and celebrating love for otoge!
the theme of Otoge Hanami is, of course, flowers! each game here is assigned a flower, which is to be used as a guiding prompt for the entries. Otoge Hanami is entirely sign-up based, first-come, first-serve, with art piece and one writing piece per character.Â
everything else will be under the cut ! itâs mostly a rehash of everything that can be found on the project site [here]Â
WHAT ARE THE GUIDELINES?
of course, in order to be able to run this smoothly, we have to have some overarching guidelines!
GENERAL
There will be one drawn and one written submission per character.
From the date you claim a character, and are confirmed for that character, you have three weeks to complete your piece.
If extensions are needed, please let us know, as early as possible. Please donât rush your work!
Contributors are more than welcome to submit for multiple characters (and series), but only one may be reserved at a time.
This includes submission type â one person cannot claim both art and writing for their chosen character at the same time.
All submissions should be specifically created for this project!
All submissions should be set in their canon verse â while the timeline doesnât have to be specified things like high school aus wonât be accepted! The idea is, also, that these will be pairing/route based with the heroine of the game and the character chosen, making it a pair.
While weâd advise to be careful of spoilers, some are rather unavoidable. This does make this project inherently not spoiler free, so keep this in mind.
And as another general note, no NSFW submissions will be allowed.
Writers and Artists can coordinate on their pieces for a character, if they choose to.Â
ART-SPECIFIC
The submission should be digital or scanned art, only. No pictures with a phone or camera for digital, but ones with a clear scanner are fine.
The submitted artwork should be on a 800x1000 canvas, and submitted as a JPG.
The piece should be fully colored.
Images do not require a fully-drawn background, itâs really up to the artist. It can be as simple or as detailed as the artist prefers. However, itâs preferable that the background isnât just plain white.
Please keep the prompt in mind.
WRITING SPECIFIC
The submission should be no shorter than 500 words, but no longer than 2000 words. We know itâs not easy to write a lot for some people, nor is it easy to trim down for others, dependent on the writing style. Thatâs why we decided upon such a range.
The piece should be, preferably, in the third-person point-of-view, with a focus on the character chosen.
Try your best when it comes to grammar and spelling. Weâre here to beta-read for you, if you need a fresh pair of eyes.
Going back to the note about rushing in the general section, but really rushing it tends to effect characterization â which weâd love to stay true to!
Again, please be mindful of the prompt at hand.
WHAT ARE THE CHARACTERS/GAMES I CAN CHOOSE FROM?
As of right now, we have SIX games to choose from, for a total of 92 entries (46 of each kind). These SIX games are our starting goal, but if thereâs enough interest in this project, or a particular game that isnât on this list is requested enough, weâll expand it at a later date!
For the time being, we are sticking to official releases, namely localized ones.Â
Amnesia (Memories) â Shin, Ikki, Kent, Toma, Ukyou, Orion Bad Apple Wars â Alma, Higa, Shikishima, Satoru, White Mask Code:Realize â Arsene Lupin, Abraham Van Helsing, Victor Frankenstein, Impey Barbicane, Saint-Germain, Herlock Sholmes, Finis Collar x Malice â Aiji Yanagi, Kei Okazaki, Mineo Enomoto, Takeru Sasazuka, Kageyuki Shiraishi, Yuzuru Saeki Hakuouki â Toshizo Hijikata, Souji Okita, Hajime Saito, Sanosuke Harada, Heisuke Toudou, Chikage Kazama, Shinpachi Nagakura, Keisuke Sanan, Susumu Yamazaki, Kazue Souma, Hachirou Iba, Ryouma Sakamoto Ozmafia â Caramia, Kyrie, Axel, Scarlet, Hamelin, Robin Hood, Pashet, Caesar, Soh, Brothel Boys (Dorian Gray, Alfani, and Manboy)
WHAT ARE THE THEMES?
as stated before, the overall theme of otoge hanami is flowers! each game has a specific flower attached it.Â
Amnesia (Memories) â Amnesia Roses: Love at first sight, enchantment, mystery Bad Apple Wars â Red Spider Lily: Flower of death, flower of afterlife, remembrance/mourning, lost memory, may never meet again Code:Realize â Hydrangea: Heartlessness, heartfelt emotion, gratitude, thanksgiving Collar x Malice â (Red) Anemone: Hope, faith, death, abandonment Hakuouki â Cherry Blossoms, life, death, and renewal; life is beautiful, yet (tragically) short Ozmafia â Daisies: Innocence, purity, new beginning
HOW CAN I SIGN-UP?
fortunately, we have a handy sign-up form! go [here] and fill it out. since this is first-come, first-serve, not everyone is likely to get their first choice. we will do our best to update people on which characters are taken.Â
this is the link for whatâs taken/available!Â
HEY, PITA, X GAME THAT I WANT ISNâT ON THE LIST, WHAT DO I DO?
good question! the sign-up form has a suggestion box! viable suggestions include other officially localized otoge! we canât make any promises on adding them, but suggest away!Â
*note, if you do not plan on participating, but want to suggest a game for the future anyway, contact me using the information below.Â
WHERE DO I GO TO ASK QUESTIONS?
if you have any questions or concerns, contacting me is the best way to ask! Again, Iâm one of the hosts of this project. in the document we have prepared, thereâs contact information, but since thereâs not a separate tumblr account for this, Iâll leave information here too.
the best way to reach myself or the other host is by sending a dm to the project twitter: otogehanami
you can also im or shoot me an ask here!
thereâs the project email as well!
you can also contact me on my personal twitter: roastedlizlow
14 notes
¡
View notes
Note
can you write about the first day on the job? like how the escorts got recruited and the day starting it
Admin Notes: I always thought that the escort were picked up at different times, but to promote your prompt, hereâs a story about the six escorts starting their first day as underworld escorts together. Fresh out of⌠I guess escort academy, good luck to them! -Admin Hirahara
The Gokuto Manor was much bigger than the six had thought it would be, having never visited before now. Kirishima, Saeki, Hirahara, Tagami, Tanizaki, and Kinoshita stood in front of the wooden doors, having just been assigned to this branch by Lord Enma himself. Apparently, the captain in charge (his name was Rokkaku) was known as a kind man, so they shouldnât be two worried. However, they were told before hand that there was a lot of work to be done, as they were the first group to ever work under him.
âI wonder⌠what heâll be like.â Kinoshita laughed, although a bit nervously. Although the six were standing at the door, none of them were knocking. It was Tanizaki who finally stepped up to open the door, tired of everyone else being nervous. With three loud thumps, the six waited for someone to come to the door.
Rather than hearing footsteps, though, they were a little surprised to hear nothing at all. Being that the manor was made of wood, surely theyâd hear the captain coming. And yet, rather quickly, the door was opened. Instead of seeing a man, though, the six found themselves facing a woman much shorter than most of them.
âOh, guests?â She wondered, then, having seen their uniform, smiled. âOh! You must be the escorts that were assigned here, am I right? Rokkaku-san did say to be on the look out for you!â She ushered them in with a warm laugh, really confusing the escorts. They hadnât really expected to see anyone else, after all. âMy name is Kirika,â she introduced. âBut you can call me âAuntieâ! Rokkaku-san asked me to stay later tonight to prepare something special for you all~â
âUm, Kiri-â Saeki started, then quickly retracted his statement. âAuntie, where is Rokkaku-san? We havenât met him yetâŚâ
âOh, well, he got his coffee and went to his office.â She directed the six down the hallway. âDonât be so nervous, heâs a good person.â She winked and then hummed as she walked⌠no, slithered off. The escorts noticed her tail dragging behind her as she moved away. So sheâs not an oni, they all thought.
Now that they knew where to go, they found themselves standing in front of Rokkakuâs office. Although clearly marked, the door was closed, and once again, they knocked before announcing their presence. From behind the door, they heard a deep voice ushering them to come in.
Although the office was spacious, there was only one person sitting behind a desk. He had things stacked on his desk, but they were all rather neat and tidy. a gramophone sat next to a type writer on a separate desk, a tall, three level drawer was next to a bookshelf, and a huge window that looked outside were all present, if not a little dusty.Â
Rokkaku himself was a tall man, even though he was sitting down. His skin was tanned, and he was smoking a pipe that didnât give off a tobacco smell. His eyes were a piercing crimson, and it was almost intimidating. However, he smiled, making him seem like a kind person. âI wasnât expecting you all to come at the same time, but this is fine too,â he spoke. âNow, then, introductions. Iâm Rokkaku, the captain of the Court of Enma, Underworld Escort branch. You all areâŚ?â
The six gave their introductions by name, not dropping their formalities. Rokkaku nodded, committing the names to memory. âAlright, well, I have a very important mission for you all today.â Right off the bat? the six thought, feeling nervous. What would they be asked to do so early on? Defeat a rampaging demon? capture a deceased one? Maybe even fight the captain?
But instead, it was none of those things. âThe archives are quite a mess, you see. Iâve always wanted some helping hands. You all can start by organizing the place and the documents, preferably in a fashion that makes the books easy to find.â
And thatâs how the six found themselves in the library. A thin layer of dust covered some parts of the shelves, and the books had clearly, at some point, all been removed and stacked upon the many desks. There wasnât just one floor, either. Aside from the library, though, there was another room that led to more documents, also a huge mess. No wonder Rokkaku had asked the six to clean the place up. It was a huge task, for one person.
âI didnât really think weâd be doing this,â Tagami complained, letting out a sigh. âSo bothersome.â Still, if it was their first mission, it was best that they did well. So, with cleaning supplies, the six went to work, organizing the place and making it sparkle. The first thing they did was move the remaining books of the shelves to clean the dust off. Next, they moved the books off the tables to clean that.
Once all the surfaces were nice and shining, they had to go through the books and begin dusting them off and figuring out a good way to organize it. Only then could they think about getting the floors cleaned.
âUwah, this is SO! Boring!â Hirahara complained, unable to clean one more book. The sun was already passed midpoint in the sky, and sooner or later, it would set. âI want to do something fun! Tagamiiiii!â
âHirahara, come on,â Saeki encouraged while lifting a pile of books. âItâs only our first day.â
âWhat if,â Kinoshita said, rather mindlessly as he wiped one of the book covers with a wet rag, âwe were requested to come here to do house work?â That made the other five nervous. There was no way, right? The Underworld Escorts preserved the balance in hell and served to capture and punish deceased ones. There was no way they were reduced to house keepers.
âDonât kid!â Tanizaki finally spoke up, from the second floor. His voice echoed in the closed hall. âThereâs no way thatâs the reason weâre here!â That silenced everyone for a while. As they worked quietly, Kirishima paid more attention to some of the titles of the books. World of Stars, Herbal Medicines, all sorts of interesting things were in the library. It might actually be fun to sit down and read them, some other time.
It wasnât long, however, before Tagami spotted someone peeking in through the door of the library. She had long hair and a blue kimono on, and had a basket of laundry on the floor next to her. âHelloâŚâ She greeted, seeing that she was spotted. âAre you⌠the new escortsâŚ?â
âYeah!â Hirahara smiled, getting up and running over to her. âWeâre cleaning up the library for our first mission!â That surprised the girl, and she jumped back a little.
âWatch it!â a different voice suddenly yelled out. âDonât scare me like that!â The sudden voice was quite a shock for everyone, but soon they realized that it had come from the girl. To be specific, the back of her head, where Hirahara could see a second mouth.
âU-u-uhâŚ!â The girl hurried to cover the mouth with her hand, bowing in apology. âIâm⌠Ayako. I do the laundry and cleaningâŚ!â She observed the six before picking up a book near her. âI canât⌠help right now because Iâm washing your sheets but⌠maybe later, I can help.â
âItâs alright,â Saeki smiled, coming over as well. âWeâll get this place organized by the dayâs end.â
âYou know,â Ayako said, handing the book to Saeki. âRokkaku-san has studied every book in this library. Thatâs why itâs such a mess.â She giggled a little to herself. âSometimes he forgets to put books back after heâs done, so theyâre scattered around.â
âYou meanâŚâ Kirishima looked around at all the books that were on the ground. âHeâs read every single one of these?â Ayako nodded, inching back towards her laundry basket.
âY-yes, heâs very well versed in this world, and the Living World.â She then excused herself, saying that she was pretty busy as well, preparing six new rooms.
âThatâs⌠really impressive,â Tanizaki finally said, feeling like he had a newfound respect for Rokkaku. The six continued with their mission, at last finding a place for each book on the shelf, and a folder for each document in the archives. Before they even realized it, the sun had set already. Tired, but feeling accomplished, the escorts looked at their handiwork. The library was definitely better now, more organized and clean.
They were just about to relax when they heard someone walking towards them, followed by the deep voice. âOh, youâre all done,â Rokkaku said, standing in the doorway. He smiled, seeing how the library was much different than before. âGood work on your first mission.â The escorts quickly got up to face Rokkaku, having not expected to see him. âWell done,â he smiled, giving each a pat on the head. Somehow, the action seemed⌠fatherly.
âKirikaâs been working all day on a feast for you all,â Rokkaku added, turning around. âTo celebrate your first day, and your entry into our family.â The meal was even better than the six of them had thought. Kirika was an amazing cook, having many side dishes prepared, along with a festive main course. She also insisted on making many desserts, and it wasnât until they started eating that the escorts realized how hungry they had become. Cleaning, to their surprise, really took a lot out of them.
The atmosphere that was created was very welcoming. Ayako joined them later as well, declaring that all their rooms were ready. Rokkaku had suggested everyone get a long rest, and in the morning, perhaps they would try a practice match against him. After all, being just one person in the manor could get rather lonely. It was needless to say, the six escorts found the Gokuto Manor to be the perfect place, filled with kind people. Today was, in summary, a perfect start to their new lives.
#Underworld Capital Incident#gokuto jihen#çé˝äşĺ¤#anonymous#rokkaku (Underworld Capital Incident)#kirishima (underworld capital incident)#Saeki#kinoshita (underworld capital incident)#hirahara (Underworld Capital Incident)#tagami (Underworld Capital Incident)#tanizaki (Underworld Capital Incident)#Kirika (Underworld Capital Incident)#ayako (underworld capital incident)#UCI fanfic requests#requests#Admin Hirahara
14 notes
¡
View notes
Photo
*GASP* Great goodness!!! Kyuranger just refuses to let up, doesn't it? Episode 30 delivers a heart-shattering entry, all wrapped up in a graceful power-up package...
- I'll start with a somewhat unrelated rant: I couldn't watch this episode live last Sunday! Aaaarggh. My internet provider changed the fee (AGAIN... that I'm not even that much surprised anymore), so I'm stuck using free public wifi until yesterday noon. And get this, when I decided to renew it with such heavy heart, let's just say... I got duped BIG TIME. To the point that I'm still slapping my own face in utter disappointment and anger, for falling into the company's sneaky stupid ploy all over again. *SIGH*. Now that THAT's out of the way, on to the recap-view then... - Since the opening scene focuses mainly on Orion and Tsurugi, let's talk about what I forgot to mention on my previous recap-view. That sweet friendly river-side moment between them! Some audience might think that the conversation they brought up regarding Orion's newborn felt... a little on the nose. If you ask me, it's actually NOT. IMO, if you think about it logically and/or chronologically, that dialogue actually made good sense. How? After the supposed final battle with Don Armage, a wounded Past-Tsurugi was brought by Orion to Earth, and put in a cold-sleep aboard the Argo. Fast forward 333 years later, the Rebellions awakened Tsurugi in the present time. He likely spent at least 2 weeks after he woke up, in which during that time he: clashed with the Kyurangers, but eventually became one of them; went to Planet Tocky, and searched for the Horologium Kyu Globe; and along with the 'Time Travel' team, went back to the past to recheck history. Meanwhile, from Orion's side of things, having just completed his deed to the Past-Phoenix Soldier, he spotted the ORION crashing, ran into the Kyurangers, and was reunited with Tsurugi again. If one easily compares the two separate timelines from Tsurugi's and Orion's point of view, then it's become clear. Eventhough they have indeed been 333 years apart, thanks to Horologium, the reality was far more shorter than that! For Orion, it was merely hours if not minutes since he last left Past-Tsurugi in the Argo. Tsurugi on the other hand, had only advanced a month at most due to the cold-sleep. Logically, he still had all the memories prior to the sleep (of 333 years ago) in tact in his mind. THIS is the reason why the dialogue about family between them flowed very naturally! It's just a casual chit-chat between friends who haven't seen each other... fairly briefly. That's all! - Of course, that dialogue still serves as the key for the two of them to deduce that Lucky... might have been Orion's very own descendant. That means, Lucky isn't Orion's son, as the rumor suggested (for now at least, it's still a giant mystery anyway). Regardless of that, he's still an important figure who serves as a catalyst for the Kyurangers, due to having the blood of two Constellation Systems. That's the main reason why Tsurugi, the Kyurangers, and later Orion wants to protect him at all cost. - And that is also where the episode hurts. From the beginning of the episode (or the preview last week), it is teased that Tsurugi might give away his life to heal Lucky. Using the power of Phoenix Kyu Globe is taking the toll out of him, so the chance of him getting out unscathed is minimum at best. We even get to see Tsurugi's quick origin story, of when he first obtained the Kyu Globe when his spaceshuttle crashed. Basically, 'death flag' has been fluttering over Tsurugi, which is why the actual death comes totally unexpected and a lot more shocking. It's Orion's final moment instead!!! - On one hand, Orion IS hiding a severe bloody wound, due to shielding the Kyurangers from Don Armage's devastating attack. So he pretty much has been waving his own giant death flag too. On the other hand, he's a crucial legendary figure who will pass on the legend of the Kyurangers throughout the entire universe. Even the team smartly points out that, without Orion, the Kyurangers wouldn't have existed in the first place. Preview for this episode even showed him in battle, helping Leo Red debuts his new power-up. The general assumption is, there's no way, he's going to die, right? That's where Kyuranger throws us off balance once again, because Orion passes away anyway! It's a HUGE, and genuine "OH MY GOODNESS... NOOOOO!!!" (if not blatantly "WTH!!!") moment, and I'm positive the dead silence or echoes of jaws dropping are reverberating throughout the audience. My heart literally stops! And I'm still mulling over it until now... NOTE: Only several movies (like some Marvel Studios ones, though usually Oscar contenders) and TV shows (mostly anime titles) have managed to make feel so... heartbroken like this. Kyuranger positions itself nicely into this exceptional category, which is a rare accomplishment for a Tokusatsu series. I'm not trying to be sarcastic here, but huge thumbs up for TOEI! - Not only Orion's unfortunate demise works as a twist, but also as a major shakeup to the entire story. It is an unexpected alteration in the past, so there will be massive ramifications going forward. It raises even more questions that will make every fans feel concerned. If Orion no longer lives another day, then who would hand over Carina Kyu Globe to Eris' safekeeping? If Eris never has it, then that means the Argo would not be revived in the present time, and Tsurugi would never be reawaken! More importantly, as has been pointed out before, without Orion, the Kyurangers' existence is in danger. Which urgently prompts Commander Xiao to stay behind, taking Orion's place to spread the heroic legend. Ignoring the fact that it's another giant change to the past, does this mean his role as a Kyuranger also comes to an end? *gasp*. In a way, Champ (who will be part of the "Episode Stinger" V-Cinema, which apparently takes place some time later) is already hinting that he and Xiao will surely find a way back to the present. But it doesn't stop making me feel very... anxiously curious. With the two of them being left in the past... is the show trying to throw either of them as the possible face behind the new Don Armage? That would... still be a possibility, right? One more thing, the loss of Orion pretty much rules out my theory that he is the next Don Armage. For now, at the very least. Unlike Kuervo, the Kyurangers actually bury him for good, so he's truly dead. Then again, lest we forget HOW Darth Vader was created... - The grand power up, The Miracle Star Leo Red Orion debuts! It is channeled through the #315 Supreme Kyu Globe, which is realized through the unity of Lucky and Orion's powers and shared resolution to protect the universe. And of course, through the latter's sacrifice... *sobs*. It's undeniably a GORGEOUS design, with fluttering mantle and all. Probably one of the best White member I've seen throughout Super Sentai history. Assigning the color white is also a very wise decision. Not only because white is the combination of prime colors, but in case of Kyuranger, it also adds balance to the team. No wonder Phoenix Soldier gets to be another Red, because when Leo Red uses this form, each of the original colors are still represented. Speaking of combination, it has a dang fine-looking transformation sequence that unites all 12 powers of the Kyurangers too. Turns out, despite many fan-speculations, Supreme doesn't require Naga to be with the team to pull off. It likely falls inline with my theory that Lucky serves as a catalyst for the other Kyurangers, meaning he's the only one necessary for this upgrade. And that is also one wicked finisher. Nope, not the Gate of Babylon-esque with the Kyu the Weapons, which was... nice. I'm talking about that "ALL STAR GALAXY! IN-FINISH BLAST!" that channels the entire 88 Constellations. Dang it... I feel goosebumps when all those stars lit up and create a big bang. Wonderful, simply wonderful! Fun fact: Supreme Kyu Globe, or SAIKOU KYUTAMA in Japanese, has an odd numbering of #315. If you're wondering the reason why, then well... highly likely the answer is: because it's a nifty pun. 3 - 1 - 5 is SAN - ICHI - GO in Japanese, but it can also be read as SA-I-KO. Get it?! LOL. Also, 3 + 1 + 5 equals...? Yep... NINE or KYU in Japanese. Brilliant, right! The finisher "In-Finish Blast" is also a clear pun for the word 'INFINITE', which explains Leo Red Orion's ability to bend space and time. There's also one theory that the Supreme Kyu Globe is modelled after the 9 planets of the Earth's Solar System. It's unconfirmed for now, but I think it makes a lot of sense... - Before I move on to the last point, allow me to point out several bits of the episode that I find to be really interesting: 1) Don Armage's hideous humanoid form seems to be the extent of his power. He claims that he can't hold back his power in that state, which is probably why he's also more vulnerable to attacks. We also see him reviving Akyanba and Tecchu for the mecha battle, giving us explanation to why the Vice-Shoguns keep showing up and are still alive to the present time. And before anyone complains that he's so easy to be defeated, do remember one thing: we're not even in the finale yet, as the new/present-time Don Armage is ALWAYS meant to be the true big bad. 2) I LOVE how a wounded Lucky doesn't want Tsurugi to sacrifice himself. That's a powerful scene, amped up by Lucky's genuine emotion. The concern and also pain on his face feels so real, which means the actor does a truly fine job. Say anything you want about Lucky, this proves he's definitely one of the better Reds in the recent years. Meanwhile, Tsurugi himself is showcasing a wonderful growth in character. From someone who used to be self-centered, into a team player who would risk his own life for his comrade. 3) Although I'm not quite sure why Xiao doesn't just use his Draco Voyager to form Ryutei-Oh, him being assigned to use Leo Voyager and form Kyuren-Oh is indeed a wiser choice. This way, other Kyurangers (including Raptor who spends most of the time repairing the ORION) get to participate in the big battle. It's supposed to be a final-battle-esque showdown with Don Armage after all, so they need all manpower available. 4) It seems that contrary to what Tsurugi said, Phoenix Kyu Globe does NOT have the power to restore/revive life. It can only be used to regenerate health, as shown by Lucky's critical state, and also Tsurugi's own condition when he was adrift in space. Otherwise, Tsurugi can always use it again to revive Orion and keep the flow of history. Am I right? 5) I have a feeling we'll be seeing Orion again in the future. I doubt TOEI cast a great actor like Kai Shishido for brief appearances that lasted only two episodes (three, if we count that cliffhanger ending in episode 28). Heck, we even get to see Eris several times again. Which is why the theory that either he or Kuervo might be the new Don Armage is still very much in play. Then again, noone can really tell much when it comes to Kyuranger. This show tends to startle audience with genuine surprises... more often than not. LOL. At the very least, I hope we get to see him again somehow, because even in such a short time, he has truly left a strong impression. 6) A good amount of time must have passed between the moment the team discovered Orion, and the flower scene in front of his grave. I doubt Raptor is able to completely repair the ORION for their return trip in a flash, because it was left in such a bad shape before (notice that the ship visually looks much better?). Critical audience might want to consider this before they start complaining about how fast Lucky gets over Orion's death. I doubt that grave scene is Orion's funeral anyway. It's more likely the team comes there to pay tribute for one last time, before departing home (to their era). Oh and yeah, turns out this grave is very similar to a certain character's from "One Piece". Concidence? I doubt. 7) Lastly, regarding Xiao's new role in the past. Things are starting to make much clearer sense the more I think about it. Some folks at RangerBoard (Dukemon, TealMystechRanger, and TavionJackson to name a few) back this up, by speculating that the whole scenario could be a 'bootstrap paradox'. Meaning, it has always been Xiao, and not Orion, who started and spread the "Legend of Nine Saviours" that refers to the Kyuranger. This explains why it's NINE, instead of Ten, Eleven, nor Twelve, because Xiao knows that the team would start out with the number Nine (him being the Tenth and all)! Also, remember his story about Mr. Pega? That might not be a random tall-tale after all, but part of his quest to collect the Kyu Globes. But what about the history that says that it's Orion, and not someone who comes from a dragon-tribe who told the story? Like the whole situation with Eris that I've pointed out above. That would only mean a huge contradiction, right? Now this is where things get surprisingly interesting. Turns out, there IS a particular Kyu Globe that grants its user the ability to... SHAPESHIFT. It's still a speculation/theory for now, but I honestly won't be surprised if Xiao used that to disguise himself as Orion (thus bringing him 'alive' again to do the job), in order to prevent the new flow of history from erasing the Kyurangers in the present time. This one in particular, leads us to the final point... - As if the loss of Orion isn't enough, the show delivers another terrifying surprise. The present... remains the SAME. Jark Matter is still rulling the universe. Akyanba and Kukuruga are still alive and well as they did before. Dark-Naga is now taking Tecchu's place as a new Vice-Shogun, possibly their leader. And Don Armage is still reigning, despite his clear defeat in the hands of Leo Red Orion. It seems NONE of the alterations the 'Time Travel' has done in the past affects the present. Does this mean, everything actually goes... according to the way it should have been? Thus... that causal loop theory that I've stated above gets even more plausible! One thing for sure, Armage's sinister laughter in the cliffhanger, can only mean one thing... it's back to square one for the team!
Overall: To be honest, not unlike that wicked finisher, all kinds of logic was flying off the table in this episode as well. But dang it, if that wasn't another mindblowing rollercoaster episode. One that took my breath away, torn my heart into broken pieces... like a fierce punch in the gut that I haven't been able to fully recover ever since. For an episode that served as a power-up debut (which was simply marvelous on its own), it's still packed with all the right flavors. The humor, intensity of emotions, the high stakes? And yes, I totally couldn't hold back my tears when Orion closed his eyes for good... which says A LOT. If this were another show or Super Sentai season, this episode could easily serve as a finale or some sort. But nope, Kyuranger is not stopping anytime soon. The past might have been altered, yet the present remained the same. If the real Don Armage was eliminated in the past, that means the current Don Armage's identity is someone else entirely. Still a massive question mark that is shrouded in mystery. Personally, I can no longer predict what's going to happen next. It's one surprise after another, and to think that we still have (at most) 19 more episodes after this! This show is NOT pulling any punches, and continues to be a delight week after week. That's why I honestly can't believe some audience are still looking down on it despite a streak of strong features. Oh well, I guess it's their loss... Next week: 'Save Naga' Team is back on center stage! PS: Tsurugi makes his very first spotlight in the ending sequence, pairing up with Lucky. Oh and yeah, Gigant Phoenix and Kyutamajin have already been added to the opening since episode 28. I don't think I have mentioned about it before. LOL.
Episode 30 Score: 8,5 out of 10
Visit THIS LINK to view a continuously updated listing of the Kyutama / Kyu Globes. Last Updated: September 22nd, 2017 - Version 2.14. (WARNING: It might contain spoilers for future episodes)
All images are screencaptured from the series, provided by the FanSubber Over-Time. "Uchu Sentai Kyuranger" is produced by TOEI, and airs every Sunday on TV-Asahi. Credits and copyrights belong to their respective owners.
#tokusatsu#SuperSentai#kyuranger#uchu sentai kyuranger#uchuu sentai kyuranger#review#melancholymoments#awesome
2 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Weekly Voltron Fic Recs #30
Officially no longer a youngster. Get a job and get out of your parentsâ basement, âweeklyâ rec list, for peteâs sake. Get it together.
Rules: You can find past weekly rec lists here, and non-list recs in my general fic rec tag. This is stuff I like, and I have a huge bias toward Lance, hurt/comfort, and general fluff, in that order. Gen unless otherwise noted. Please comment on the fics if you read and enjoy them!
A Lonely Mind by Bandity Words:Â 11,292 (WIP 1/2) Authorâs Summary:Â Lance struggles with depression, choosing to hide his problems, he starts down a dangerous road alone. My Comments: I think I kinda freaked the author by leaving a RIDICULOUSLY long comment on this one. Go read that for my expanded thoughts. But yeah, fave of the list. You remember that post going around not long ago about how healing pods are scary? This fic takes that concept in a FABULOUS direction, and I love it to death.
Starve the Ego, Feed the Soul by Agapostemon Words: 1,595 Author's Summary: âSo you want me to spy for you,â Keith observes blandly. âExactly!â Hunk nods, âOh, and keep an eye out for food stashes. I wanna know where all my ingredients are going. âKeith sighs, âFine, whatever. Iâll spy for you. But only because heâs my brother and I care about him.â My Comments: Really sweet and heart-achey exploration of Keith and Shiroâs relationship, through the scenario of Shiro hoarding food in his room.
Pizza, Pasta and some comfort by SerenePhenix Words: 4,405 Author's Summary: I love taylor_tutâs sickfics to death but the one that really stuck with me was the one about the college AU where Lance appeared on the gangâs doorstep and they all were like âletâs take care of this sick strangerâ.I really couldnât help myself⌠----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Getting Lance to stop before he can collapse Shiro wonders what can be done to help the poor guy. Besides making sure that his temperature doesn't go through the roof... My Comments: Not long ago, I recced âThe Pizza Oneâ as my favorite taylor_tut fic, and hereâs a nice long sequel! I love it almost as much as everyone in the fic loves Lance.
Food for Thought by WildWolf25 Words: 9,094 Author's Summary: After a very uncomfortable breakfast his first morning in the Castle of Lions, Ulaz learns that Galra and Earthlings (and Alteans) have some very prominent cultural differences, specifically relating to food. Once they get some misunderstandings cleared up, though, Lance gets a certain idea... My Comments: Crack alert! This is delightful. Gen, but technically NSFW for...reasons. Just read it, if youâre of age.
Stretch the Day by Stratagem Words: 886 Author's Summary: Lance and Hunk hang out with their siblings at a lake and have a nice day where nothing bad happens. Really! My Comments: Iâm actually reccing every fic in this series, Voltron Space Family, this one just happened to come up first in my AO3 history because I read it the most recently. But yeah, you should consume everything. This author is SUPER good at child mannerisms, as well character interaction and feels. Thereâs a story where Shiro is rescued after the end of Season 2 by a misfit band of space pirates including one Matt Holt, and another where the Galra kidnap Lance and Hunkâs siblings, which is heart-rending. Very, very good stuff. Iâll be following this author with eager anticipation.
Distance by nawsies Words: 1,381 Author's Summary: Pidge misses her Mum so much and most of the time she refuses to think about it, Lance is in the right place at the right time and wants to help his friend (he helps). My Comments: Sweet, achey, homesick Lance and Pidge. Beautiful little fic.
Mermaid Rescue and Rehab Inc. by isabeau25 Words: 1,064 Author's Summary: Sadly, this isnât the strangest phone call Pidge has ever gotten from Lance. The mermaid is new though. My Comments: MERBABY SHIRO RESCUED BY THE GARRISON TRIO. If that doesnât make you want to read it I donât know what will. Just go. Itâs great.
Voltron Hug Collection by hufflepirate Words: 12,761 Author's Summary: 15 microfics, minifics, or oneshots featuring Voltron hugs. These were written based on tumblr prompts (plus 2) and to get me through finals week. Every chapter involves at least one hug, all hugs are platonic, and chapter titles will tell you the people involved and some idea of the plot or prompt, so keep an eye out for those. My Comments: Iâve been reblogging these fics in their tumblr post form, because they are all amazing, but if you missed any, here they are all handily collected for your convenience! I intend to comment on every single chapter, just havenât gotten to it yet.
Lionhearted by Pidgeon_Online Words: 9,539 Author's Summary: It's a struggle for everyone. They're struggling to stay afloat in the sea of stress and anxiety.And Pidge accidentally tipped the boat.or Pidge gets sick and everyone helps while trying to juggle their own problems. My Comments: Sick Pidge with bonus angsty Lance and supportive everyone else. A pleasure to read. One Day at a Time by dem_hips Words: 2,818 Author's Summary: Being away from home at school is a little different from being away from home defending the universe, as it turns out. My Comments: Kind, supportive Garrison Trio. Theyâre all so very far away from home. Another fic where Pidge and Lance level up their friendship. I love it.
Caught in the Rain by WildWolf25 Words: 3,611 Author's Summary: âHi, um, do you need help with your⌠robot car?âPidge looked up to find a man looking down in bemusement at them. His black hair was cropped close to his head, shorter at the undercut and only slightly longer on top, save for a white-dyed tuft that fell over his forehead. âItâs a rendition of the Mars Rover, but ârobot carâ works too.â Pidge said. âAnd Iâm okay, I just need to dry it off. My teammates are delayed, so I just need somewhere out of the rain to wait for them. Sorry about using your awning.â (While waiting for their robotics club members, Pidge gets caught in the rain and takes refuge in the lobby of an onsen, where they meet Shiro) My Comments: This is such a warm, gentle, relaxing fic, much like I imagine an onsen visit to be. Love this modern version of Pidge and Shiro, with Lance being a disaster and Hunk being a suspicious mechanic, as it should be.
Heathens by TheCookieMonster77 Words: 8,785 Author's Summary: "YouâŚ"Keith looked completely bewildered and lost at Lance's outburst and Lance thought that that was probably the worst part of all of this. The heathen didn't even realize his error.Keith's face looked startlingly close to a kicked puppy. "What did I do?""I- You-" Lance let out a muffled shriek shout of irritation. "You," he growled, jaw clenched and teeth grinding, "just asked for pineapple. On pizza."What. An. Out. Rage.Keith blinked. "...Yes?"Hunk is an amazing angel (like always) who figured out how to make space pizza. Lance was ready to sing his praises to the universe, but then his teammates have to go ruin everything by insisting on pineapple pizza.Heathens. My Comments: Very fun and funny fic! I loved everyoneâs different reactions.
A (Space) Mother's Work is Never Done by BajillionKittens Words: 2,851 (WIP 3/?) Author's Summary: A Mother's Day celebration for the team mom. Six times Coran took care of his kids and one time they returned the favor. My Comments: SO CUTE. I love the way Coran takes care of all of these children heâs suddenly stuck with. The different scenarios are all very good and fitting, and Iâm looking forward to more.
Little Drops of Poison by Saereneth for BossToaster (ChaoticReactions) Words: 2,607 Author's Summary: Shiro had been trying to catch up to them, clawing his way through years of separation just to feel like he was part of them once more, but sometimes it was just too much, and he had to excuse himself for a while so he could come to grips with everything heâd missed. My Comments: @bosstoasterâs Ten Years On AU bothers me on a very visceral level that I have trouble articulating, but this little exploration in the sandbox is lovely. I love Pidge unable to stick with her original concept and expanding into thing she finds interesting or just pretty, and the way Lance notices Shiro spiraling and subtly grounds him without being flashy is really lovely characterization. Very believable development of both of them, and Shiro is heartbreaking as always, but everyoneâs going to take care of him.
Be Water, My Friend by xLoLix Words: 8,531 Author's Summary: So there are the quieter moments between missions, between exciting events, between the moments that matter. (The real secret are that those are the moments that matter the most.)Here are some moments between the paladins, starring Lance.Or; I air out some of my general grievances and de-stress from school by writing a fic about my favourite character. My Comments: Really lovely exploration of Lance and his relationships. I enjoyed it.
Finding Family by squirenonny Words: 17,214 Author's Summary: A collection of drabbles that don't fit neatly into the main Duality plotline. Most can be read independently of the main story, though each entry contains a note on where it fits in the timeline.Written based on prompts from readers. My Comments: Some mild Klance and Shatt. Every single of one of these is delightful. You should just read everything this author writes. Iâve said it before and Iâll say it again.
Previously Recced Fics That Updated:
As Color Fades Away by IcyPanther Truce by kyanve The Times They Remembered Pidge Was a Girl by MagmaWrites The Color Of Our Planet From Far Far Away by LonelyGirlInSpace Someplace Like Home by squirenonny (THE GANG IS BACK TOGETHER) Secret of the Blood by exclamation (now complete) Garrison Days by castlestormed Towards The Sun by Eastofthemoon The Machinations of Perception by HapaxLegomenon Must Surely Be Learning by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions) (now complete) The Garden of Heaven by Genesister (papirini) (now complete) Love and Other Questions by squirenonny The Size Of Our Actions by buttered_onions Scattered by avidbeader A Dream Away by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions) Stardust, Silk and Steel by CalicoTomcat Shifting Sands by Cardigan_Quincy
#voltron legendary defender#weekly voltron fic recs#fic rec#the fandom is slowing down a little on the fic output#theoretically that should give me more time to write#instead i seem to just reread my favorite fics#vldgen
153 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Fanfiction Recommendations
4/26/17: Hey guys! So I know that I am actually the worst, but school is currently ruining my life and I have two weeks worth of finals to get ready for (like my finals week has been split into two). Also I know that I have been out for a while now and I have tried to update things but I have just designed the costumes for a show here at school and it has literally caused me to be at school 14-15 hours a day, for the past three weeks. SO I am mentally and physically exhausted. So what does this mean? I am taking some time off from writing (just until the 10th of May). That being said I will try and post a weekly fic rec list so that you guys can enjoy the awesome blogs that I read from every night before I go to bed.
As you will notice, Iâm a binger and love reading series. Also, for some reason I donât have a lot of Marvel reads, which means that I am slacking on the following of marvel blogs. So if you know any I would love some recommendations. (I promise that these are things that I have been reading for a long time, the next list will probably be much shorter)
Dean x Reader
Imagine Sam and Dean Finding Your Daughter Trying to Make Breakfast by @teamfreewill-imagine
Lies and Family Ties (One-Shot) by @greezyscumbag - Mary tells Dean that the reader cheated on him to stop him finding out about her (Mary) stealing from Ramiel.Â
Time for A Wedding (One-Shot) by @effie-w - Youâve hunted with the Winchesters since practically all your life, which makes you a co-protagonist in the supernatural books. There arenât too many problems with that until you find out that Becky ships you and Sam together. And sheâs loud about this particular hobby too, so loud in fact that your longtime boyfriend Dean might not stand her very much. But, whatever, right? Ships are harmless, or they are usually. Theyâre not anymore when she decides itâs time for hers to become canon, with a long-awaited (in her opinion) wedding
The Prince and the Huntress (Series) by @skymoonandstardust - so I just tagged her masterlist because sheâs amazing and for this recommendation specifically, itâs a prince dean!AU, you canât go wrong with that.
Sam x Reader
Imagine Sam waiting to hear you made it out of surgery okay⌠by @plaidstiel-wormstache
Imagine your daughter asking you about Samâs scar by @teamfreewill-imagine
Castiel x Reader
All of Me (One-Shot) by @webcricket - â1st Cas-iversary Celebration drabble request by @ire-art-blog â âI was thinking of a drabble it can be smutty or nah but a castiel x reader where the reader has tattoos or even kinda goth.â Did you read my mind? Cause Iâve had a wing tattoo idea fluttering about my skull (and inspiration pics cluttering my desktop) for weeks! Itâs pure fluff.â
Just Shut Up and Kiss Me (One-Shot) by @casbabydontgoineedyou - a super cute kissing Castiel blurb
Jensen x Reader
Undeniable Heat (Series) by @katymacsupernatural - Youâve just gotten a job as one of the makeup artists on the set of Supernatural. Nervous on the first day, you become completely awkward, winning the affection of the divorced Jensen Ackles. You try to fight your desire for him, but he thwarts you at every turn. Will you be able you separate work and play, or will you let Jensen win?Â
Forward (Series) by @blacktithe7 - Being a single father was never Jensenâs plan, but when his wife unexpectedly passes away just months after giving birth to their little girl, that is exactly what he becomes. His life has been about nothing but his daughter for years. Now Gen and Jared think itâs time for him to move on, and they may know just the right girl to help him do it. Jensen is not so sure. Will he give it a shot? Or will the ghost of his dead wife make him ruin what could possibly be the best thing to ever happen to him and his family?Â
Youâre Not my Wife (One Shot) by @bringmesomepie56 - drunk Jensen one shot
Out of the Park (Series) by @iwantthedean - Seventy years after the initial opening of the All-American Girlsâ Professional Baseball League, several MLB team owners have invested together in a tributary womenâs league. The deal is for one season, but hundreds of women across the country are vying for the sixty-four spots available. Jensen Ackles was a star player in the MLB, until a cheap move by a base-runner landed him on the DL. Always arrogant and slightly cranky anyway, his new assignment as coach for one of the womenâs baseball teams is not an idea he is fond of. Can you take a chance and make a lifetime dream come true? Can Jensen stop fighting against the path his life is taking? Will leaning on each other lead to relationship neither of you wanted or planned on?
Jared x Reader
Love Triumphs All (Series) by @katymacsupernatural- Jared and Gen have split up, but are still friendly. You, the Reader have recently started acting on Supernatural, and have fallen in love with Jared. Both of you get hate due to the fact that you are much younger than he is.Â
The Contest (Series) by @winchesterprincessbride - To celebrate Supernaturalâs 15th season, the producers have decided to hold a contest to cast an unknown in a recurring role as Samâs rumored love interest. They are doing open casting calls all over the country. Your best friend Nikki wants to go and she drags you along.Â
Misha x Reader
Love at First Video (Series) by @katymacsupernatural (If you havenât caught on I love this blog)- You were a babysitter, but you wanted to be more. Deciding to create a cooking video, you were shocked when it garnered the attention of a well known actor. Soon the attention becomes something neither of you can ignore.Â
Mark x Reader
Your British Knight (Series) (I just found out there were other parts!) by @nothin-after-79 - Is still seriously one of my favorite reads but now with a summary: Thanks to an embarassing accident at the gym, the reader meets Mark Sheppard. Despite a stalker ex and her crazy family, he becomes her knight in shining armor and he falls in love with everything about her including her drug fueled and not so easy past. A story loosely based on the author's real life.
Bucky x Reader
P.S. I Love You (Short Series) by @kittenwritesstuff - When your husband, Tony, dies, you are convinced that your life ended along with his. On the day of your 30th birthday you receive a surprise from Tony and with every letter from him, you start to learn how to live on your own - based on a plot of âP.S. I love youâ for @stories-from-stark-towerâs 3K Celebration Movie AU Challenge.
Chris Evans x Reader
First Steps (One Shot) by @thing-you-do-with-that-thing - âThis is my entry for @paigeinastoryâs Country Song Fic/Sentence Prompt Challenge. I had two prompts. The first was the song Dan + Shay - From the Ground Up and the other was the sentence: âWould you like children someday?âÂ
Also, if you want to read anything written by me here is my MASTERLIST. The last two fics that I have written may not be on here, but if you have a problem finding anything just let me know. I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH!
#fanfiction recommendations#fanfic rec#fanfiction#supernatural fanfiction#mini hiatus#school sucks#i'm trying#recommendati#marvel fanfiction#actor fanfiction
54 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Fic: A Stolen Moment
My entry for the final round of the Rumbelle Showdown, written under the pseudonym Purple Polka Dots.
The prompts were:Â What we donât understand, Harmony, Forbidden kiss under mistletoe
=====
A Stolen Moment
Lord Mauriceâs winter masquerade ball was always the highlight of the Marchlandsâ social calendar, attracting high-ranking guests from all over the realm. Todayâs ball was no different, and there was even more anticipation this year following rumours that the engagement between Mauriceâs daughter, Lady Belle, and Sir Gaston of Avonlea would be formally announced tonight. Those in the know had been hinting at the union for months, and when better to announce it than at the ball?
Lady Belle herself knew all too well that the rumours were very true. The match had been settled months ago between their parents, her father urging her to see this as doing her duty to their small duchy by uniting it with Gastonâs familyâs lands and ensuring prosperity for years to come.
âThe people need you!â Maurice had implored. âWithout Avonlea as an ally we cannot hope to weather the attacks from the ogres that are brewing in the south! The Marchlands will be overrun!â
So Belle had agreed to the match, despite the fact she had only met Gaston twice and on both occasions he had almost bored her to the point of sleep.
She looked around the vast ballroom, picking out faces that she recognised beneath the masks. As lady of the castle, she was rarely able to dance at the balls, having to spend all her time hosting and making small talk with all the visiting lords and ladies. Just then, a familiar figure caught her eye and she smiled. Although his features were obscured by a mask, Belle would know him anywhere. Dark hair fading to silver where it brushed his collar, a lithe build, a little shorter than the average knight, and a slight limp in his right leg that he had received when his horse had thrown him during one of the grimmest battles of the last ogre war. Sir Rumpelstiltskin, one of her fatherâs most loyal knights and one of the few true friends that she had in the castle. Casting her mind back, she remembered her first real encounter with him, when she had been on the cusp of womanhood, and something about him had sparked a new sensation in her â one of want and longingâŚ
~
Sir Rumpelstiltskin was out in the lower paddock, trying to rope a skittish, unbroken colt. The creature was clearly fearful, and Rumpelstiltskin showed nothing but sympathy towards it, his words and touches soothing and gentle as he succeeded in fitting the halter and the horse came to a standstill beside him, allowing him to hold out a hand towards it. Presently he caught Belleâs eye where she was leaning on the fence, and he waved her over.
Belle loved animals, and wasted no time in hitching up her skirts in a very unladylike manner and climbing over the fence, slowly walking over so as not to spook the colt again.
âLady Belle, meet Philippe.â
âHello, Philippe.â She looked up at Rumpelstiltskin. âArenât you scared when youâre working with the unbroken horses?â
Rumpelstiltskin shook his head. âNo, Lady Belle. You see, we always fear what we donât understand, but when you understand that Philippe is more scared of us than we are of him, thereâs no reason to fear. Thatâs a lesson we can all learn,â he added, his voice dark as he looked up towards the castle. âUnderstand, rather than fear.â
As quickly as his countenance had become morose, he brightened. âMaybe once heâs trained, youâd like to ride him?â
Belle beamed.
~
Back in the present, Belle saw Rumpelstiltskin move out of the ballroom. At first she had pushed her feelings for him to the side, dismissing them as a silly, girlish infatuation, but even as she had grown into a woman, they had never dimmed. As of tonight, Belle would be betrothed and unable to act on her feelings. This was her last chance to air the truth.
Do the brave thing, and bravery will followâŚ
âPlease excuse me, Father, I must powder my nose.â She rushed away before Maurice could protest at her sudden departure, speeding out of the door that Rumpelstiltskin had taken and finding him alone on the balcony. He had removed his mask, and Belle could see that his expression was melancholy. He smiled at her when he saw her, bowing low.
âLady Belle. What brings you out here? Shouldnât you be inside, attending to your guests?â
âTheyâre my fatherâs guests, not mine. Let him attend to them. Besides, I needed some air, and youâre far better company than most of the lords and ladies inside.â
He chuckled. âI pray you always retain your forthright attitude, Lady Belle.â
âI shall strive to.â
Inside, the musicians struck up a delicate tune, a Rosa Waltz, and boldly, Belle moved towards Rumpelstiltskin.
âMay I have the honour of this dance, Sir?â
âCertainly, My Lady.â
Belle loved to dance, and she loathed the fact that she never got the chance at the winter ball. She didnât think that sheâd ever had a partner with whom she enjoyed dancing as much as the knight in whose arms she was whirling across the balcony. He was by no means a perfect dancer, hampered by his injury, but they moved in perfect harmony, and as the music came to its coda, Belle did not want to let go.
âLady Belle?â
Rumpelstiltskin sounded concerned, and Belle looked up to find that they had stopped below a bough of mistletoe hung up outside. She smiled.
âWell, it is tradition.â
âLady Belle, you are engaged to another,â Rumpelstiltskin pointed out sternly, but there was something in his voice that spoke of regret that he had reminded her of this.
âNot officially,â Belle said obstinately. âNot yet, at least.â
âIâm a knight of no blood. You are a noblewoman. Itâs still forbidden.â
Belle looked up into his soft dark eyes. âI donât care,â she whispered. âI want to kiss you, Rumpelstiltskin. I have done ever since I first saw you halter Philippe in the lower paddock. Do you want to kiss me?â
âOh Belle⌠My Lady,â he corrected himself quickly.
âCall me Belle, please.â
âOh Belle, I want to kiss you very much. Youâve become such a beautiful, forceful, amazing woman, and Iâd be a fool not to want to kiss you and an even bigger fool to allow it to happen.â
Belle went up on her toes to press her lips to his.
âThen Iâm a fool too,â she breathed, and kissed him again, his lips parting eagerly for her and his hands coming up to cup her cheeks. Belle didnât want to break away, but she knew that she had to.
âThank you,â she said.
âThank you, My Lady.â
For a moment, Belle considered running away, taking Rumpelstiltskinâs hand and leaving the castle, going on a longed-for adventure and never looking back, turning her back on duty and responsibility and giving herself up to the freedom of what she knew now to be love.
But then a voice was hailing her, one of the footmen.
âLady Belle! There you are, weâve been looking all over for you! Sir Rumpelstiltskin, what are you doing out here?â
âLady Belle was feeling faint and I gave her my arm to accompany her outside to get some fresh air and recover her strength,â Rumpelstiltskin said smoothly.
âAre you quite recovered, My Lady?â the footman asked, bustling over and fussing around her. âThe announcement is about to be made.â
Belle gave a little sigh and nodded. âYes, Iâm perfectly well now.â
The footman hurried her away, and Belle looked over her shoulder at Rumpelstiltskin. His smile did not reach his eyes, but he blew her another forbidden kiss.
Then the door closed between them. Their stolen moment was over, and it was time to return to their separate lives.
19 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Why Learn About Music Theory?
Recently, there was a discussion on social media which prompted me to create this blog entry. It was a discussion on music theory and whether or not we as musicians should learn about it. Obviously, you donât âneedâ anything, but my personal motto has always been âknowledge is powerâ. The more you know, the more free you are on your instrument.
There are many misconceptions about music theory and what it means to aspiring musicians. I will list a few here:Â 1. Music theory is difficult to understand.
No, it isn't. The mistake people make is that they try to learn everything there is to know all at once, without assessing whether a piece of information is directly relevant to their musical goals or playing style they are diving into. This leads to many aspiring musicians not seeing music and their instrument as one whole. Music theory is the language we as musicians speak to each other in order to communicate ideas and concepts. 2. Music theory is a whole separate "entity" from making music.Â
Of course not. In fact, most musicians already know more about theory than they think they do. E.g.: if you know the difference between single notes and chords (multiple notes played simutaneously), that's the base of understanding music theory. Everything else merely elaborates on this! 3. To understand music theory, you need to be able to read notes.
False! Reading music and understanding music theory are two entirely different skills. Of course, they compliment each other, but the whole theory behind all these sounds we hear in music can also be understood just be looking at our instrument, by looking very carefully at what our fingers are doing on the fretboard (or on the piano keys, for that matter). 4. Music theory is not applicable to actual playing.
False, music theory IS playing! Most people. and this I base mainly on guitar students of mine, have never learned to APPLY music theory to their playing, songwriting, etc. Don't forget that ear training is also a big part of theory, and here I'm not even talking about advanced solfege or anything, but for example being able to tell the difference between a major and minor chord (happy-sounding vs. sad-sounding). Everybody knows how to do things like that, but just don't realize it, until "that" teacher opens their eyes (and ears!).Â
5. To fully understand music theory, you need to go through years of college.
Absolutely nonsense. There are so, so many good teachers and also sources out there on the internet these days. Investing in this will help your musical development just as effectively, probably within a shorter amount of time as well!Â
Lastly, I want to conclude by saying that a "theory" is not the same as a "rule". It is merely an explanation of gathered ideas about something. What I advise my guitar students to do when learning about theory, is to learn to understand and apply it, and then forget about it. What I mean is eventually being able to break the rules CONCIOUSLY. In other words, to know exactly what they are doing on the instrument. This is so beneficial to any musician, because it makes communicating with other musicians so much easier. That is the whole reason we learn this language of music - nothing more! Just thought I'd get that out there. Good luck to you all! :-)
0 notes