#to be fair like his world is jackshit but STILL | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

an-absolute-travesty · 4 years ago

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Secret Santa fic!

Heya @all-eternity it was me all along! I hope you enjoy this :) very much looking foward to actually being able to follow you after this without looking sketchy lmao

Also shoutout to my lovely beta reader @keepersandqueens as if I don’t talk about Salas enough here lol

Warnings: underage drinking, drinking in general, hangover, drugs/medication mention (not abused, basic over the counter stuff dw), mentions of vomit (not described)

Pairings: Kam, background marelinh, ex titz

About: Kam coffee shop college au

Word count: 5,205

Tag list (tell me if you want to be added or removed): @cadence-talle @ruewen-and-rising @lemontarto @a-lonely-tatertot @clearlyvacksen @percabetn @sewersewersewercouch @everyonehasthoughts @imaramennoodle @enbies-and-felonies @blxckh0les42 @rainbowtay-11 @callas-starkflower-stew @impostertamsong @appalyneinstitute1 @stars-and-splendor @anna-without-an-e @mistythegenderqueermess @we-have-no-bananas-today @we-wont-dissapear @jadenightthewriter

Tam stumbled into his first 8 am class, anxiety making his heart feel like it was pounding out of his chest and stomach doing backflips.

If he could survive bouncing between foster homes, a short stint at juvie, and worst of all high school, he could survive college.

Well he thought he could until he saw a familiar person right next to the only available chair in the room.

God fucking damn it.

"Hey Bangs Boy!" Keefe waved him down, causing a scene. Tam had no option but to sit beside him, both because of the lack of chairs and the fact that everyone was now staring at him.

Not a great start.

"What a coincidence! I notice you still haven't taken my suggestions on your hair, I'm telling ya' you'd get all the girls and or guys and nonbinary pals with a man bun." Keefe looked smug at the fact he'd be able to taunt Tam for another semester, minimum. Tam was already making a mental note to check when he could swap out of classes.

"Keefe, if I knew you were going here I would've just gotten myself back in jail, oh wait, you were the one who got me in there in the first place." Tam shot him a look, praying that he'd suddenly develop superpowers and shoot lasers from his eyes.

"Hey, just because I came up with the idea...and helped with some of the execution, doesn't mean I'm responsible for you trashing your parents house. Besides, you were only in there for like 3 days max before you got out," Keefe said, shrugging as if 3 days in jail was no biggie.

"Most peaceful 3 days of my life," Tam sneered, turning back to the front of the room as the professor walked in.

"Good morning class!" the prof turned to the white board, writing his name. "I am Dr. Harding," he tapped it for emphasis.

The class was silent.

"And you say good mor..."

"Good morning Dr. Harding," The class said in unison, they all sounded tired and bored.

This wasn't going to be fun.

~*~

"Grande ice vanilla latte for...Hen-are-y?"

The man shot Keefe a look as he grabbed his coffee.

"Henry." He dropped a tip in the jar, fifty cents. How generous.

He had come in before, and never left good tips. Keefe made it a game to pronounce the names of anyone who wasn't a college student and left bad tips wrong, no matter how much they came in. It was a wonder he hadn't been fired yet.

As he turned preparing another drink, the bell at the top of the door rang. He ignored it at first until he heard a quiet, "Fuck," come from behind.

"Bangs boy!"

"Why are you here?"

"I work here obviously," Keefe walked up to the counter. "Now, what'll it be?"

Tam sighed. "Iced caramel macchiato with two extra shots of espresso."

"Size?"

"Venti."

Keefe whistled thinking about how much caffeine that was as he wrote down "Bangs Boy" on the cup.

"Alright, that'll be 5.75, may I ask why the insane amount of coffee? I believe I remember you saying caffeine makes you anxious in high school."

"Yes, but it also helps me focus, and I have a quiz tomorrow I haven't studied for."

"Fair enough," Keefe said, going to prepare the drink. "It'll be ready in five."

Tam nodded, walking off to the side and scrolling on his phone. Keefe made the drink, occasionally sneaking looks over at Tam. He didn't seem to notice, thank God.

Soon after, they finished the transaction.

"See you at class," Keefe said, he was trying to be genuine, but it came across more taunting.

Tam grimaced, muttered "Thanks for the coffee," and walked out the door.

~*~

The class fell silent as a disheveled Dr. Harding walked in, a pack of gatorade in one hand and bottle of tylenol in the other. He popped one as he sat down.

"Hello class it seems today I have the worst headache imaginable, just give me about 5 minutes of silence and we will go over your assignments."

Keefe leaned over to Tam's desk.

"Well, we know what he got into last night," he whispered. "Heard the bar on the corner of 5th was giving out two for ones for professors."

"Isn't that place run by the alumni?"

"Exactly. Gotta thank Alvar tomorrow, Fitz said it was his idea."

"Wait Fitz goes here too? Why did I not-"

"Boys!" Dr. Harding practically yelled. "I am tired of the racket." He put his face in his hands where his elbows rested on the desk, bald spot showing to the world.

"We were whispering!" Keefe made a 'what the hell' sort of gesture. Tam glared at him, hoping he could communicate 'I will kill you myself if you say another word' with just his eyes.

"Sencen, do I look like I care?"

Keefe winced a bit at the use of his last name. That was something Tam could understand.

"Look, boys," Dr. Harding stood up and turned to the chalkboard, writing something down. "If you all like talking so much, you'll love this next project."

He walked to the side, revealing the board, that read '10 page essay, due the 25th'

"With the person next to you, you'll be writing a 10 page essay on um...the importance of keeping your oil changed in your car. You'll then present it to the class. It's worth 25 points."

A student raised their hand.

"Luka?"

"Sir, I thought this was a psychology course?"

"It is. You are all excused."

With that, he left the room with his tylenol and gatorade in his arms. The students glared at Keefe and Tam as they all got up, muttering amongst themselves about the pure bullshittery of it all.

"So..." Keefe said, slowly standing. "Does the library tomorrow at 3 work? I have work until then, so it can't be any earlier."

"Yeah, sure." Tam promptly walked out of the classroom as fast as possible, he didn't know why but his anxiety was spiking. He tried to tell himself it was just because he was a useless gay that didn't know jackshit about cars, yeah, surely that was it.

Just a useless gay.

~*~

Tam waited at a table in the library, it was 3:05, Keefe was late.

He didn't know what else he expected from him, he always seemed to do stuff like this. At the same time, Tam didn't have the energy to be particularly mad at him. This was going to be the stupidest essay ever written in the history of man, might as well put it off.

The library door slammed open, and in came Keefe. He balanced a large stack of papers and books along with four drinks. He stumbled over to Tam and practically threw them down on the table.

"Sorry I'm late, I thought it would be nice to, like, get you a coffee, but I didn't know how much caffeine you wanted, so I got one decaf caramel macchiato, one normal, and one with an extra shot, and also hot chocolate for me."

He sat down in the chair by Tam, as if getting three different coffees for someone you were forced to do a project with was totally normal.

"Um...thanks, I-I can pay you back-"

"Don't worry about it." Keefe turned to him and smiled, bright and friendly. Tam was frozen. "Okay, now it's car time." Keefe turned back to the desk.

"Yeah."

They were silent for a while as they researched, Keefe going through his piles of papers and books and Tam on his laptop like any sane person would.

Tam finally worked up the nerve to talk.

"So um...this is out of nowhere, but I think you mentioned Fitz went here?"

"Oh, yeah." Keefe put down the absurdly large textbook that was set up in front of him. "He's my roommate, he uh thought it would be best not to tell you after everything, I guess."

"That's fine," Tam shrugged like he didn't care. "I'm over it."

He was, really. They only dated like 2 weeks, sure it ended with a...pretty big fight after Fitz claimed he wouldn't be able to date someone who had gone to jail and Tam reminded him it was his best friend that got him in there in the first place, but he was still over it. There was still something bothering him, nothing to do with Fitz himself but...something. He just couldn't put his finger on what.

"Alright, I'll take your word." Keefe shrugged, setting his giant book back up in front of him.

Tam felt the need to start talking again, but didn't. They were mostly silent for the next 40 minutes or so, just researching and the occasional word exchanged between them.

Keefe checked his phone.

"Shit," He got up. "Work emergency, I gotta go. Same time tomorrow?"

"Yeah that works."

"Chill, see ya' later."

"Bye."

Keefe waved (with a wide grin Tam would've called idiotic in high school) as he went out the door.

Tam found himself with a smile on his own face, he quickly stopped, hoping no one saw.

~*~

Keefe hurried into work, pulling his apron on as he saw the absurdly long line and a panicked Marella frantically making coffees behind the counter. She sighed with relief when she saw him.

"Thank God," She said as he stepped behind the counter with her. "There was a scheduling error, Forkle's useless at that stuff."

Mr. Forkle, their well-meaning but often mistaken manager, was out of town at the moment. The fate of the Starbucks rested on two college kids, what could go wrong.

And so they went, Keefe taking orders and Marella fulfilling them until there were no more to serve.

Marella, quite literally, threw in a towel she had wiped her face with. Promptly going to the back, presumably for her break. Keefe followed her.

"Alright, I think you can probably go back to whatever you were doing before this now if you'd like," said Marella, inspecting the small braids in her hair in the nearest shiny surface.

"Nah I was just doing a project with Tam for Harding's stupid class, he's probably left by now, I might as well rack up some overtime."

Marella turned back at him, clearly caught off guard at the name.

"Tam? As in my-girlfriend's-brother Tam? As in you-had-a-massive-crush-on-in-highschool Tam? As in dated-Fitz Tam? As in you-got-him-in-jail-"

"Yes! Yes! Why does everyone remind me of that, it was one time."

"When you get someone in jail, people tend to remember," Marella went silent for a second, thinking, before looking Keefe in the eye. "Wow, that must be awkward as hell, I mean seriously, if I were you I'd straight up file a restraining order just to avoid him. Maybe move to another country. I hear Estonia is lovely this time of year."

"Eh, it's not as bad as it seems. I mean it was awful at first, mostly because I tried to resume right where we left it on the taunting front, but I think it's ok now."

"Hm. Well good luck with that," Marella turned back to go to the front, but Keefe grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Uh, actually I need your advice on something. It has to do with Tam."

"Shoot."

"Well I was thinking of maybe, I don't know, asking him out or something? Look, yeah, it's an awful idea but is it 'he never wants to talk to me again' awful or 'he attempts to strangle me' awful?"

Marella looked him up and down, eyes uncomfortably cold, as usual.

"I mean, no hetero, but despite your annoying qualities you're a decent looking guy. Plus Tam's, like, super anxious according to Linh, so maybe he'll be too awkward to say no. You can probably squeeze at least one date in there."

"Wow, thanks Mare," Keefe mumbled, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes, I try. Also don't call me Mare."

"Alright Ella!" Keefe called as the front door's bell rang, signalling a new customer. Marella went off to take care of it, unable to respond she growled back at him.

~*~

Tap tap tap tap tap.

Tam glared from across the table.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap.

"Why do you keep doing that?"

Keefe looked up, muttered a simple "Fidgety" and went right back to it, tapping his pen against the table. Tam said nothing more.

Keefe had been quiet for this entire meeting, something highly unusual for him.

"Ok, seriously dude, what's up? I haven't seen you this quiet literally ever."

He only seemed to get more fidgety at this question, his bouncing leg shaking the library table.

"I...um..." he looked down, running a hand through his hair "I have a test I need to cram for and no one to study with and keep me accountable. Y'know, ADHD issues."

Tam didn't overthink for once in his life but the moment the sentence was out of his mouth he regretted it.

"I have a test too, maybe we could study together?"

Keefe smiled his annoyingly charming smile.

"Sounds good."

"Good."

Tam quickly looked back down at his computer, trying to look like he was still doing car research when in actuality he was processing he just actively offered to spend more time with Keefe Sencen.

If Linh found out about this he'd never live it down.

He didn't think he cared.

~*~

Dr. Harding walked through the classroom door, clearly much less hungover than his last appearance.

The students waited, would they get an apology? Any sort of remorse?

"Alright, who wants to read first?"

Apparently not.

Keefe raised his hand with too much confidence for what their essay looked like. Tam gave him a confused look. He had his scheming face on, never good.

"Mr. Sencen!" Keefe winced at the use of his last name by the doctor. "What an amazing start, it's only appropriate. One of you boys come up and present."

Tam gave Keefe a look of 'do you want me to do it?' Keefe just smiled and got up from his chair. This would either be really good or really, really bad. Tam was all too familiar with the scheme face.

"Doc, I did depart from the source material a bit here, hope you don't mind. And I use 'I' because Tam had no involvement in this, he deserves full points for his essay."

Keefe cleared his throat, the room was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

"Doctor Harding deserves to get fired: an essay. (And it's only been a week!) Paragraph one, his drinking problem-"

"Sencen! Back to your seat now. I will see you after class, or I will not see you in my next class, understand?"

Keefe gave a thumbs up as he sat back on his chair with a thud.

A few minutes later, in the middle of another student's essay, he passed Tam a note with his loopy handwriting.

"The amount of comebacks I had for 'see me after class' is absurd but if I get kicked out there's no way Elwin is helping me pay tuition a second time."

Tam tried not to smile, certainly failing, as he wrote his response.

"Yeah I think the time you talked back to Miss Cadence she wanted to expel you. Lucky Principal Alina had a thing for pseudo-dad Alden."

"Oh God I haven't talked to him in a whiiiiiile."

"?"

"You haven't heard? Yeah, he sorta found out like ALL his kids were ell gee bee tees and freaked out. Della found herself a new gf though!"

"Sounds like a lovely extra punch in the gut for a queerphobe."

"Yep. Honestly I recommend looking through his Facebook sometime. Just a million rants about how the gays destroy everything, great entertainment."

"Duly noted."

At that point it seemed like the doctor started to take notice of their note passing, and they stopped quickly. Tam wouldn't be surprised if he did the whole high school read in front of the class thing with the way he had been acting so far.

Tam was 100% sure tenure was the only thing keeping this guy's job intact. Apparently being a drunk asshole wasn't near enough to get a person out of their position. He tried to ignore the professor's annoyingly smug face for the rest of the class.

~*~

Keefe sat in his usual spot at the library, Tam sitting across from him, his brown eyes dancing across the textbook page and lips mumbling along the words. He didn't have much to do, often finding himself just staring at Tam, quickly looking away if he seemed to notice.

Eventually he sighed, sitting back.

"Ugh, this test is in a week and I have so much other crap to do, I'll never get this all memorized by Friday."

Keefe silently thanked his brain for managing to get around the having to study thing. Yay, photographic memory!

"Oh, uh, well I'm free to study more tomorrow if that would help? We could do, like, flashcards or something."

Tam seemed to repress a smile. He did that a lot. Keefe always noticed.

"That's okay, I'm sure you have better things to do. The Starbucks is always pretty packed."

"Eh, sometimes you have to get away from Marella. She's mean to me."

"Not just you, once she told me if I ever made fun of Linh's cat's name again she'd make me cut off my own bangs."

Keefe nodded sagely. "The shorter you are the closer to hell. That's why you're worse than her."

"Hey!"

Tam flicked a stray rubber band at Keefe.

"I'm at least 2 inches taller than Marella...we measured."

Keefe thought up about 12 inappropriate jokes he couldn't make before flicking the rubber band back.

"Two inches only counts in roller coasters, none of which you can ride."

Tam stuck his tongue out before returning to his studies. Unlike Tam, Keefe didn't hide his smile.

~*~

Tam strolled into the Starbucks that Friday morning, no longer surprised to see Keefe working the counter. He could barely hold still in line as he thought about the amount of cramming he'd have to do in the next few hours.

When he reached the counter, Keefe said nothing, just busily worked making a drink.

He stuck it right out at Tam.

"One venti iced caramel macchiato with 2 extra shots of espresso because you have a test today in political science and still haven't studied everything and also a muffin because you probably haven't eaten today. On the house. Good luck with the studying."

Tam froze.

"I- um- th-thaks. Y-you too...sport."

Oh, you fucking idiot.

He quickly scurried out of the Starbucks with drink and muffin in hand. Wow, he had screwed that up.

But...

Keefe...

He...

He remembered his order and that he had a test and that he forgot to eat when he was stressed holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit-

Okay, deep breaths Tam, you got this. You can totally handle a frustratingly cute guy showing care for you this is fine...

Not fine, not fine, gotta tell Linh.

He called Linh with no forewarning. Despite the fact that she was currently across the country at a different university, and it was about 3 am for her, she picked up. He barely let her get out a groggy "Hello?" before explaining everything. She only seemed to think a moment before responding.

"Hm. Well it's good to know that college is going good for you. Do you need advice or comfort?"

"Yes."

"Well, first of all, everything's gonna be okay. And I know that doesn't help much but just try to remember we're eighteen, and it's not the end of the world. Second of all, try to ask him out or something. It doesn't have to be framed as a date, like Marella and I got together on a walk in the park, seriously it can be anything."

"Thanks Linh."

"No problem, also can you hug Marella for me?"

"If she doesn't try to kill me first, yes."

"Nice. Okay go do what you gotta do, also don't wake me up at 3 am again or else I'll sic Purryfins on you, I had just gone to bed."

With that she hung up and Tam continued on his way, still trying to not completely freak out.

~*~

Keefe stared blankly as Tam walked right out of the door. Marella appeared by his arm.

"So, how'd it go?"

"Well, he called me 'sport'."

Marella inhaled through her teeth.

"Yikes. Comfort, advice, or distraction?"

"Distraction, please." Keefe replied, absent-mindedly preparing a cup for the next customer.

"Uh, well I meant to ask you what ended up happening with that ass of a teacher, but I got a bit distracted at your attempt to woo Tam-"

"Hey I said distraction not reminder. But basically I just got a slap on the wrist because, and I quote, 'Your father is Cassius Sencen! He wrote half the books we use in this class, I'm sure he can straighten you out!'"

"There's absolutely nothing papa Sencen could do to make you straight, I'm pretty sure he tried that, and it obviously didn't work."

"He actually tried a few times and it most definitely did not. Lucky he doesn't have my number anymore or else I assure you he'd keep trying."

Marella laughed.

"Well, moving on from grade A assholes, I'm supposed to tell you there's a party tonight. I'll have to send you the address later, I have it on my phone though, I am told there's gonna be booze, so I'm going."

"Eh, I'll probably go. Just to get my mind off everything."

"Thata boy." She lifted her phone. "And my shifts over in three, two, one, and I am out of here! See ya' tonight Hunkyhair."

"That's Lord Hunkyhair to you."

She just rolled her eyes and clocked out, leaving Keefe to deal with both the customers and his own thoughts.

~*~

Tam sat in his dorm room alone, constantly refreshing his grades for the possibility that his 70-year-old professor would post the test results at 1:30 am.

His roommate was gone for the weekend, actually he was gone most of the time. Tam didn't think they'd even had a full conversation before.

He jumped as his phone began to ring, a call from Keefe of all people. He hesitantly picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Tam! Tam Tam Tam Tam Tam" Keefe's slurred speech was too loud for a phone call, Tam held his phone a bit away from his ear. "...fuck wait why did I call you..."

There was a long pause, neither said anything.

"Oh yeah! I needed to tell you something...but uh I uhm I forgot what it was."

"Keefe, where are you?"

"At a paaaaaarty, well, actually just outside a party because it was hot in there, but now it's cold out here so uh yeah."

Tam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Okay, send me the address, I'm coming to pick you up. Wait right there and don't move."

"Okie dokie."

Tam heard a thud sort of sound and the rustling of grass from the other line before Keefe hung up and soon after got a message of his location.

After 20 minutes of walking in the cold, Tam came up to what seemed to be a frat house with Keefe sitting on the lawn in criss-cross, patiently waiting in short sleeves and basketball shorts, way too little clothing for the weather. His ruddy face smiled as he saw Tam approach.

"Tam! I remembered what I was going to tell you." He stood up, face falling right after. "Oh no wait I forgot again. Ooh! You need a drink."

Keefe grabbed Tam's hand, pulling him towards the house. Tam stayed in place.

"Hey, let's get you home dude."

Keefe pouted.

"I don't wannaaaa."

He slouched down, pulling on Tam's arm like a child having a tantrum.

Tam pulled him back up to his feet.

"C'mon, if you go to your dorm without fuss I'll buy you ice cream tomorrow."

Keefe seemed much more ok with going along with Tam with the ice cream deal. He pulled off his own coat and placed it around the very drunk boy, he didn't complain.

Keefe began humming some annoying song from the early 2000s that was playing from the house earlier as they walked back in the direction of the dorms.

Suddenly, Tam remembered something.

Fitz was Keefe's roommate.

Shit.

"Hey uh do you think Fitz is at your dorm?"

Keefe nodded confidently.

"Yep! Said he was gon' study. Wouldn't come to the party because of his 'reputation' or whatever."

Around reputation he did exaggerated finger quotes, nearly knocking Tam's jacket off his shoulders.

"Hm...in that case let's go to my dorm, ok?"

Keefe shrugged, apparently willing to go along with most things in his current state. Thank goodness Linh had made Tam bring extra pillows and blankets to college, he could sleep on the floor and just hope Keefe didn't get sick on him in the night.

It was ridiculously hard to lead Keefe back to his dorm. He tried to pull down his pants halfway there and Tam almost had to carry him up the stairs but soon enough they got there. He sighed with relief as he led his inebriated friend into the room.

"Okay, you can stay here for the night. I'll sleep on the floor."

Keefe plopped himself down on Tam's bed laying flat for only a moment before sitting up with a snap and a look of realization in his eyes.

"OOH! I remember what I was gonna tell you again!"

"Oh?" Tam said playing along, expecting him to forget again.

He patted the spot next to him on the bed, Tam continued to play along, sitting next to him.

"So Marella said that I should just tell you this, and it worked for her, so I'm gonna. And uh and you have to promise to listen 'cause I'm not sayin' it again."

At this point Keefe grabbed his face with both hands, staring right in Tam's eyes and squishing his cheeks.

"You're listening right?"

Tam nodded, mostly to shake Keefe's hands off his face.

"Okay."

Keefe took in an over dramatic breath as if he was preparing to preform in the Olympics before getting another grin on his face.

"I really like you."

"You really like me?"

He nodded mumbling "mhm".

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I like you. Like, like like you."

"Like...as a friend?"

"I said I wasn't gonna repeat myself. As a booooyfriend." At this point Keefe fell back on the bed, looking at the ceiling. Tam's cheeks were burning.

"How long have you liked me like that?"

"Mmmm..." Keefe seemed to ponder for a moment, "Prolly high school."

"Oh um...good to know. You should get some rest. I'll be down here if you need me."

"Alrighty."

Tam shut off the lights and Keefe started snoring quick. Tam could only stare up in the darkness, unable to sleep.

~*~

Keefe woke up that morning in a room he didn't recognize to a killer headache and dead phone.

He turned to the side, seeing a pile of blankets and pillows with a large gatorade, bottle of tylenol, and a note next to it. Suddenly last nights memories came flooding back.

Oh, shit.

He scrambled out of bed, headache and nausea hitting him harder as he stood up.

Despite the fact his head was spinning, he picked up the note from the ground and read it.

Hey, meet me at the reservoir around 6, we need to talk -Tam

F. U. C. K.

Had he really said all that stuff last night? Surely it was a dream, right?

Oh God.

He gathered his few belongings, plus the things to help the hangover, and left the dorms as fast as possible. Only having to stop once along the way to throw up in one of the campus trash cans, hopefully no one would notice.

Keefe didn't have anything to do and he really didn't want to face Fitz so he went about his day in last nights clothing. Then again, it was a college campus. Someone walking around with rumpled clothes carrying a gatorade probably wasn't that big of a deal for most people. By 5:30 he sat impatiently in the empty park where the reservoir was located, it was colder closer to the water.

Just as promised, at 6 o'clock he saw Tam approaching on the horizon.

~*~

Tam was damn near a panic attack as he walked around the park attempting to find Keefe. Eventually he found him, sitting on a bench still in his clothes from last night, face once again ruddy from the cold. He sat next to him wordlessly.

"So," Keefe started.

"So," Tam replied, looking down at his lap.

"Tam I-" Keefe turned to face him. "I'm sorry about everything last night, I probably just made everything super awkward. Not to mention it's a giant violation of the friend code to even have a crush on your best friend's ex-"

"Yeah, about that."

"What?"

"You're gonna maybe kill me for this but uh," Tam pulled on his bangs. "I sorta talked to Fitz about it, I figured you wouldn't and apparently I was right. He said he was okay with it as long as we were ok with it."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Tam sighed, "Perhaps."

Keefe once again wore that shit-eating grin of his.

"Can I hear you say it?"

"Why don't you have to say it?"

"Already said it last night! Your turn now. Why did you take care of me while I was drunk?"

Keefe stared at Tam excitedly waiting for the answer. Tam sighed.

"Because I love you, little shit."

"Ooh you said it-"

Tam smashed his lips against Keefe's, both quickly melting into it. After only a moment they pulled away.

"Agh, you taste like gatorade and vomit."

"Well you taste like salt so really what's worse."

"Definitely the vomit."

Despite this, Tam leaned back in. This kiss was a moment longer than the last, and when Tam pulled away Keefe chased it.

"Ok, look I'm sorry but you look like shit Keefe you have to go change." Tam removed his jacket, throwing it around Keefe once again and helping him up from the bench. Keefe laughed.

"Yeah, you're right. Ooh now that we're a thing you need a new nickname!"

"I do?"

"You do, how about 'Bangs Boyf' ooh or maybe you can be my 'provoked partner' or my 'snappy spouse' my 'agitated accomplice' perhaps."

"Do you just have these ready and prepared for any situation?"

"A magician never reveals his secrets."

"You aren't Houdini, you're an 18-year-old boy that currently reeks of frat party."

"Eh that's basically the same thing. I've seen some 18-year-olds at frat parties preform tricks Houdini could never dream of."

Tam sighed dramatically. "It's a good thing you're pretty, you know."

"Hey!" Keefe jokingly shoved him.

For the first time Tam's smile wasn't repressed.

#hope you like this elliot!#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kam #keefe sencen #tam song #kotlc fic #scheduled to post at 9 am and ill reblog once i get back to my phone because ill be doing x-mas stuff

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hello-there · 9 days ago

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p---ink · 4 years ago

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Stark Contrasts Chapter Five

Author’s Note: This is the last installment, in my Tony Stark Fan-fiction. I loved writing this, but I am also happy to see it come to an end. Please, tell me what you think of this. I can only get better. It means the world to me when I get comments, so let me know how this makes you feel. Also, to my artists out there...I promise I don’t know jackshit about art, so please dont come for my throat. Everything is purely fictional. German speakers, I used google translate, please tell me if anything is off. I love you guys! Thanks for reading!

Summary: Y/N tries to adjust to her life away from Tony.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut. In that order.

Song: I had the song I saw you in a dream by the Japanese House, in mind while writing this.

Word Count: 11.2k

Parts: one | two | three | four | five

Chapter Title: The Ends of the Universe

Disclaimer: Picture is not mine.

Berlin, Germany. Pepper Potts sent you to Berlin. Fucking. Germany. While Berlin was breathtakingly beautiful, and to your surprise very diverse, you knew nothing about it. Nothing about the way of life there. Nothing about the people. To say you were nervous would be an understatement. Scared, would still not do your emotions justice. You were in a place you had made no preparations for, as well as no thoughts of ever visiting. But you guessed that was the point.

Tony would never look for you here.

Six months. That’s how long you would be here. Pepper had taken care of everything. The rest of the semester and classes that you were enrolled in before you left, were now moved online. It was that or completing them the next semester. Usually, your university required students complete all prerequisite courses before they took on any internships within their respected fields. So how Ms. Potts got your Dean to agree to such an outlandish change of pace for one of her students, you would never know. What she achieved was unprecedented. That was when you learned quickly to never underestimate her.

Six months. That’s how long you would be away from Tony. Well actually, the idea, as Pepper calls it, is that you two will have moved on from each other by the end of it all. You weren’t even supposed to contact him when your time was up here. In fact, as long as you were in Germany, you were not to contact anyone you knew.

Pepper had assured your family and friends of your well-being ahead of time. No they could not know of your location, nor contact you, but they were ensured that you were safe. It took some heavy convincing on her part to get your family to agree, but ultimately they did. In their eyes, they were supporting what was best for you.

Nao, on the other hand, was not keen on just letting you leave the country. Though your friendship had less than a few days to develop, she became very protective over you. She felt that your leaving was downright bullshit as well as unfair. “Why should Edward fucking Stark, get his happy ending?” She spat. She was also not as willing to trust Pepper as you were. But because you had already made your decision to leave, you entrusted her with the secret of your hidden twitter account. No one, save yourself, knew about it. You agreed that you would regularly tweet from it, as your way of letting her know you were okay. That was the only reason, she didn’t blow the whistle to Tony right away.

Unlike Nao, you had faith in Pepper. You two weren’t the closest, but you had an unspoken respect and trust for one another. Pepper, despite every reason you gave her, did not behave in the way that any other woman in her shoes would have. You had broken her son’s heart by sleeping with his dad, her now ex-husband. Yet here she was, going through all of these hoops for you, just to make sure you didn’t ruin yourself. Of course you trusted her.

There was one thing she was not truthful to you about however. When she told you the internship was all-expense paid, what she really meant was that she was covering all of it. Your school fees, apartment, food, and any and all luxury items, Pepper would be dishing out the money to take care of it all. While you felt you had no control over everything else, you drew the line there. Though you sort of resented her for her speediness to remove you from States, you refused to let her pay for your mistakes. She had already done so much.

Your entire time living with Tony, he never let you pay for anything. This of course meant, you had money saved up from your previous employments. Enough to live comfortably until you could find a job. While Pepper was more understanding than her ex, she still insisted on covering your school fees as well as the first two months on your apartment so that you could focus on school before money became an issue. She even set you up with some extra spending money to get started. “To have a job, on top of an internship, as well as a full course-load, is too much for any student to bear.” She told you. “I will not set you up for failure, just to prove your smug ass Dean right.”

Once you were settled in, and she felt confident enough to depart, Pepper left you and Germany, wishing you the best of luck. She was in a hurry to get back home before Tony could catch a whiff of where you were, and where she had been.

So there you were. In Berlin. All alone, far from home, with no one but yourself to console. That was when the waterworks began. Between Nao’s place and the plane ride here, you didn’t have time to process your emotions. Your life, though not the most morally ideal, went to absolute shit in less than seventy-two hours. You didn’t care who was looking from the outside in calling you ungrateful. You got to experience the world, and your experiences with Tony alone should have satisfied you.

Still, you didn’t ask for any of this. He was all you wanted. You would give up all the luxury in the world, if it meant just being with him. But alas, you did not have that choice, so you decided to cry.

And cried you did. Your first three nights consisted of tears, and headaches. You barely even ate. It didn’t help that Tony’s face was plastered every where. He was famous, so what did you expect? “How the fuck am I supposed to get over him, when I can’t even escape him?” In fairness, you also didn’t make it easy on yourself. A t-shirt of his that you stole, covered your pillowcase. You were scared of the day it’s scent would leave. The new phone that Pepper purchased for you, had his wallpaper on the cover. Of course you later willed yourself to change it, but it took time. You even bought books that he begged you to read for months, just because they reminded you of him. Your entire time in Germany, you were a woman of your word to Nao. You tweeted about him constantly your first three nights, just to feel like your old self again. It was small things that made you feel closer. But small things turned into big ones. You were practically torturing yourself.

Where nights ended in crying, mornings began with half-hearted reassurements. “This is what’s good for me.” You would chant, to yourself in the mirror. “This is what’s good for Tony.” It was now the weekend, and come Monday you would be starting your internship. “The sooner I get this over with, the sooner I can go home.”

ººººº

Starting your art internship sounded dreadful to you now. Before, you were more than excited as you planned it with Tony. Your eyes were starry when you fawned over how rich the art and culture was in France. Of course you would be excited, given that Tony had taken you to France on numerous occasions, as well as taught you some of the language. You were even comfortable enough to navigate the streets of Paris alone. That was more than you could say about Germany.

When Monday came, and you left your apartment, you got lost almost immediately. Luckily to you, in Berlin more people spoke English than you thought. So your day was off to a bad start but you could still turn it around. That was your train of thought before it began to pour down raining. The cute, but simple little outfit that you had put together was now drenched. Not to mention your hair; tight coils retreated to your scalp, and makeup ran down your face. You had tried. You really did. You wanted the outside of your person, to deflect what you were feeling on the inside. Too bad the universe had other plans.

You were still determined to complete your first day. So you continued on to the location that a kind stranger gave you.

It sounded right, because soon you were standing in front of the soon-to-be art gallery that you would be interning at for the next 6 months. You were to shadow an art-curator, with the hopes of teaching it one day. Sure becoming an art professor wasn’t very fulfilling financially, but you loved art so you didn’t care.

You walked into the magnificent glass structure, with high ceilings and tall windows. Your strides made wet squelching sound, as you stepped from the outside concrete pavement onto the wooden linoleum.

Immediately, a man who seemed to be directing others about the room, turned his attention to you. He almost dropped the clear clipboard he was holding, upon seeing the soaking wet brown girl before him. All he could think of was the damage to the floors you had probably caused.

“Wie kann ich Dir helfen?” He asked you with a grimace painting his features.

If your confidence wasn’t shot before, it was now at a zero as you realized how stupid you must of looked. “I’m sorry I don’t speak German.” You apologized.

The man huffed as he switched languages. “I said, how can I help you?” Now you genuinely felt like an entitled American, in someone else’s country forcing them to accommodate you by speaking your native tongue.

“I’m Y/N, and I am here for the Schmidt Internship.” You said lowly. You watched him bring his attention back to the clipboard in hand, flipping harshly through the paper.

“You’re late. On your first day at that. How could you come in here like this?” His words were harsh, but he was right. You were late, and even if you weren’t your appearance would have sent off red flags in his head.

You had to blink back the water that was forming in your eyes. This was something that you had become an expert at. “I apologize, but I had trouble finding my way here.”

He scoffed “So not only are you coming up with excuses already, but you’re telling me you haven’t even prepared yourself. How are you supposed to retain the necessary knowledge for this job?”

“Again, I’m sorry, but I can assure you that this won’t happen again. ”

“You’re right. So go home.”

Your brows jumped to meet each other. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You clearly don’t have what it takes. My clients will eat you up and spit you out within seconds.” He looked you up and down before adding, “And if they don’t, I will. So go home.” He turned his back to you as if you were nothing, and began redirecting men on where to put certain paintings. Not sparing you a second glance.

Something told you that he was used to making people cry. You almost did, until you realized that you had been crying for the past week, and now you were just angry.

“You can place that Delegado by the window.” You heard him say to two men. You walked up to them to interrupt their conversation.

“Actually place it as far away from the light as possible.” You ordered the men who were holding the piece.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The curator asked.

You could feel his scowl on your face so instead of spinning to address him, you furthered your explanation. “The choice of medium Delgado used is not compatible with the sun. It will certainly drain its vibrancy. But anyone who attended secondary school art would know that.” You sneered, side-eyeing him. Your insult did not fall on deaf ears. His scowl turned into an almost pained expression. You ignored it, and moved on.

You walked around the room, as the curator silently, but obviously followed you. “I assume you intend to place a light fixture over this.” You asked him, looking over your shoulder. “If not, this is the painting you should place next to the window. It will not thrive in the shadows. The artist intended for light to cast on certain areas to reveal hidden figures.” You took your phone out to flash its light against the frame to prove your theory, and almost immediately new elements appeared in the work.

You could almost hear the change in features on the curator’s face. Still you continued your dance around the room, explaining to him pieces of art that worked well with others, and ones that did not.

Going up to your next piece, you inspected it closely. “When did you purchase this” You asked him.

“A few days ago. Why?” He questioned, his tone was now different, almost inviting you to say more. He was now curious about your every word.

“Bankole, the artist this is inspired by has not sold a painting in years.” You informed him.

“I bought it from a secondhand distributor. So what’s your point?”

“You were scammed. The original piece only has seven hooded men. A reoccurring theme in Bankole’s art. This painting only has six.”

“Well maybe Bankole miscounted.” He suggested, chuckling. It was like he was amused, and it was vastly different from his earlier cold demeanor.

“It also has too many etchings along the border.” You continued. “And the signature is misspelled.”

He stayed silent for a minute. He was awestruck. His assistant who had been standing near him, looked up everything you said to fact check you. She whispered a “she passed, sir” in his ear, when she could validate your arguments. And that’s when you realized it was a test.

Upon realizing the whole thing was a set up, you relaxed your bewildered eyebrows, and looked down at your feet to smile a smile that screamed ‘I’ve been tricked’.

The curator, as if scared to take his eyes off of you leaned his head to the side to ask his assistant, “Could you please get Ms.?”

“L/N” You sheepishly smiled, bringing your eyes back up to meet his.

“Yes, could you please get Ms. L/N something to dry off with, Hanna?” He asked the girl, returning a smile back.

“Right away sir.” Hanna spoke, scampering away to search the building’s custodial closet.

He offered his hand to you, and broke the silence. “I’m Finn. Finn Schmidt.”

You took his hand, and shook it gently. “Wait Schmidt? Does that mean you’re—”

“Yes, my family owns this gallery.” He replied as a matter of fact.

You mouthed an inaudible ‘oh’, as you were now embarrassed about your secondary school comment. Thankfully Hanna was back now with a towel to distract you from your growing shame. Changing the subject you asked, “So is it a German thing to be rude and test your future interns?”

He laughed, eyes lingering on your neck as you dried your hair. “Well its a Schmidt thing to test future interns. As for the rude part, I’m sorry. I was just a bit upset about something from earlier.” He confessed. “I promise I would have called you back later to apologize.”

“It’s fine. I did show up late and track your floors with rainwater.” You glanced outside, noticing the sky was now as clear as day. Just my fucking luck, you thought. But at least the new found light gave you a chance to properly examine Finn. The events from earlier, blinded you from realizing how handsome he was.

He was much taller than you. At least more than half a foot. Chestnut brown locks, thrown up into a messy bun, graced the top of his head. He had honey brown eyes upon first glance, but when the sunlight hit them, they were a brilliant amber. He looked to be close in age to you, but still more experienced; so maybe late 20’s early 30’s you concluded. He was built. Not too muscular, but far from skinny. His beard was immaculate. In fact it looked as if he took better care of it, than he did his hair. Both made him look majestic. He had skin of olive, and it was dewy and radiant; you just knew his skin-care routine was more rigorous than yours. When he spoke, it was gruff. His accent was thick, but he spoke English like he lived in a native-english speaking country for years. He was definitely a man who prided himself in his looks as well as his knowledge.

“So tell me, is it an American thing to ogle at complete strangers.” He smirked at you. You immediately thanked God for blessing you with darker skin, for you felt your blood pool to the apples of your cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized, embarrassed and suddenly intrigued by the ground.

“Don’t be. It’s definitely a Schmidt thing.” He informed you, raking his eyes down your figure. Is he flirting with me? You asked yourself.

Now desperate for air, you took in a deep breath to overcome the fluster. “So, um. I’m sorry, just to make sure I’m not getting ahead of myself: your assistant said I passed?”

He cleared his throat, and began rapidly blinking away his daze before speaking. “Yes with flying colors.”

“Does this mean I still have the internship?”

“Yes. I’d be honored to have you. ”

You beamed a bright smile. “Great. Well I hope we enjoy working together.” You stretched your hand out again for him to shake.

“As do I.” He said, grasping your outstretched limb, before bringing your hand to his lips.

Oh boy.

ººººº

It turns out, you two did enjoy working together. Finn, despite your first impression of him, was a major sweetheart, at least to you that is. You didn’t know if that reigned true in other aspects of his life, or if it was just because he wanted to sleep with you. Either way, you welcomed his charming nature.

He became your best friend whilst you were in Germany. He was proud of his country, and very eager to show you why. You were dragged from museum to museum soaking in beautiful art. Landmark to landmark, reveling in famous architecture. Restaurant to restaurant, engorging yourselves with famous German cuisines and desserts. He was elated to finally have someone to boast to about his culture. And you were happy to have someone take your mind off of Tony. Temporarily.

As months passed, you still found your mind drifting off as you wondered about him. You dreamed about him at least every other night. But you would still tell yourself, He’s over me by now. He’s probably happy I’m gone. At least I didn’t ruin his life.

Finn could only do so much. You were close now, so you informed him of a man who had taken over your dreams. He didn’t know who your mystery man was, but he wanted to be him. He wanted to be the one who occupied your mind. He made it clear on numerous occasions too. Spouting to you German phrases that he taught you before hand, revealing his feelings.

‘Ich steh’ auf dich’. I’m into you. ‘Ich bete dich an’, I adore you. The words were beautiful flowing from his lips. But you always feigned ignorance, acting like you forgot what they meant. He could scream his feelings to the sky in your mother tongue, and you would still say something along the lines of “Quit joking around.” Or “You’re so silly.”

You would be a liar if you said you hadn’t thought about Finn in that way. He was sexy, and more than willing to replace Tony. And Pepper, if she were there, as well as your friends and your better sense, would have begged for you to fuck him…but alas, you just couldn’t do it.

You two were currently planning the grand opening of his family’s second art gallery. It was tomorrow night, and it took all of five months, most of your internship to get the museum ready for the public. It would be a formal event, where renowned guests were invited to partake in a cultured but light-hearted social gathering. It was going to be grand, which meant Finn was bugging out.

“Lydia, have Hanna approve the guest list for me. I need her to make sure, no strays show up.” He said to one of his staff members. He had a group of people following close beside him as he took long strides to his office.

“Again?” She asked.

“Yes! Again.” He shouted.

She rolled her eyes, before skittering off to find Hanna.

“Luka, have you checked with the caterers to make sure the hors d’oeuvres will arrive by 17:30?”

“Yes sir.” The boy squeaked.

“Check again.” Finn ordered.

“Right away sir.”

“Oliver—” Finn Started.

“The wine has already arrived, sir.” Oliver interjected, feeling quite sure of himself.

“So the Chambertin Grand Cru is here? Great!” Finn began smiling and relaxing a bit.

Confusion took the place of certainty on Oliver’s face. “Actually sir, I thought you told me to get Richebourg Grand Cru.”

“Fuck!” Finn yelled in his native tongue, about to tear a new hole in the smaller boy. That is before you stepped in. You were waiting for him by his door.

“Your guests are coming in for the art Finn. Not the wine, nor the food.”

His expression softened when he heard your voice. “Our guests.” He corrected, smiling at you. “I feel you worked harder than me, so they are our guests.”

“Fine. Our guests do not care about the damn wine.” You smiled.

He chuckled at your playful chide. “You know you keep me sane right? You’re my savior.”

“I thought Jesus was your savior.”

“Well you’re a close second.” He smirked, as he let you enter the room before him. You both sat down in close seats, and ran down a list of things he needed to confirm for tomorrow nights events.

As you two worked, he decided to start a separate conversation. “Have you decided on whether or not you’re coming yet.” His voice was hopeful.

You sighed, knowing you were about to shatter that hope. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. I think I’ll pass.”

“Why?” He cried, abandoning his previous tasks.

“I have nothing to wear.” You informed him. “Besides I’m a bit beat. I should relax before my exams come up.”

“But, it’s just one night. And anything you put on will be amazing. It’s the girl in the dress that makes it beautiful.” As he said the last part, he placed a hand on your knee and caressed it.

You stood to your feet to avoid his lingering touches as well as ignore the look of disappointment on his face. “I can’t just show up in any thing. There are way too many important people coming. I would have to make a good impression, and I’m just not up for it.”

Finn abruptly raised now hovering over you and turning your body to face him. “What is this really about?”

“What do you mean?” You asked looking at him through an inquisitive lens.

“We both worked so hard on this. This gallery is practically your baby, don’t you want to see other people enjoy it?” The pads of his thumbs massaged your shoulders. The act was innocent, but to you it burned to have another man touch you in the way that only Tony should.

You shrugged your shoulders to make his arms fall and took a stroll around his desk, placing space between you. “Of course I want to see her success, Finn.”

“Then what’s stopping you?” He asked, slowly meeting you on the other side, unsure about his actions now.

You knew what was stopping you. Finn had to practically beg you to go out with him on regular days, and you would eventually do it to rid your mind of Tony; but this was different. Attending this event reminded you of the ones you, Tony, and Edward would participate in.

While you were Edward’s plus one on paper, it was really Tony who you would move through a room with. He would introduce you to some of his friends in high places. You two would have riveting conversations about the world and art. By the end of it all, you would ditch Edward (which wasn’t hard, because he was usually the one to ditch you guys) to sip expensive ass champagne until you passed out the next day in some hotel room you had no memory of entering. This event screamed reminders of your past life. And your past love.

“I don’t know.” You lied. But Finn knew you were lying. He also knew what, or rather who, was stopping you.

He sighed, and gazed at you before speaking again. “Is this about your ex?”

You were curious as to why he asked about Tony when the conversation had nothing to do with him. “Why do you ask me that?”

“Because it always seems to be.” He came to stand directly before you, now more sure of himself.

You could admit your tone of voice changed as you said your next line. “Well it’s not.”

“When are you gonna get over him?” Finn asked, ignoring your words as well as ignoring the defensive tone they were laced in.

“I am over him.” He made you feel small, so you straightened your posture to appear more intimidating, a sharp scowl now decorating your face.

“No you’re not. You’re still depressed about him.” He sounded a bit annoyed now.

“I wouldn’t say I’m depressed…” You cooed, trailing off a bit with your thoughts. Am I depressed? And if I am, do I really wear it for the world to see?

Worry etched itself into your expression, which made Finn say, “You’re too young for this. And you’re too beautiful. You shouldn’t be worried about a guy who isn’t even here.” Finn stated. You thought that what he was saying wasn’t fair, because he didn’t even know the full story. “I can help you get over him.”

He made you blink rapidly at his words. “Woah Finn,” Finn continued his case.

“Just let me take your mind off of him. I promise i’ll be worth it.” he was always forward, but never this forward.

“Finn stop.” He was now closer to you, cornering you between himself and his wall. His office felt much smaller now.

“I like you Y/N, and not just as a friend.” He was now just a breath away, so you threw your arms in between the two of you, only for him to lightly grip your wrists.

“Finn—” You were cut off by his lips, as they stole a soft kiss from yours. You immediately broke the connection by looking down, brushing the area he just touched with your fingertips. Finn looked at you expectantly, face flushing as he realized what he just did. He dropped his hands from their positions on your wrists and stepped back.

“Y/N, I-I’m so, sorr—”

“I’m late for my other job now. I’ll see you Monday.” You hurried out, as you circled around him to leave the room before he could say another word.

ººººº

Your entire shift at your neighborhood cafe, felt like a blur. You chose to work at a cafe for similar reasons to the ones at home: the rustle and bustle of the world made you feel calm, and like your problems were small. But now all you could think about was Finn.

He was right, you were still hung up on Tony. In your defense, five months didn’t seem like enough time for you to move on from a relationship that shifted your entire being. But they did say, to get over one man, you should get under another one. And Finn, was a man that you would have been attracted to under normal circumstances.

He was handsome. Articulate. Cultured. Kind. He was the type of man, who could move a room just by walking in it. But he wasn’t Tony. That fact alone was how you knew you were beat. If you could pass up an amazing man, for one you couldn’t even have, then you were crazy.

He smelled of ginger, and he tasted like cinnamon for those fleeting moments that he held you. You thought to yourself that you could do worse. You weren’t supposed to be with Tony anyway, so what was the harm in being with a man who was begging for you to use him?

The harm was, that you weren’t that kind of a girl. And you didn’t wanna hurt him.

I am making this harder than it needs to be. You thought to yourself, as you walked into your apartment building. Your decision to go to the gallery’s opening became a hell of a lot easier, when your doorman greeted you with a package. You hesitantly thanked him and took the elegant box, before walking up to your flat.

Setting it down on your counter to rid it of its satin pink bow, you freed the top cover and unraveled the tissue paper. Underneath all of the wrapping was a sparkly rose gold material. You pulled it out to reveal a ball gown, that looked as if it was made specifically with a princess in mind. The puffy skirt of the gown had a large slit in it and it was made of a sheer, almost see-through fabric. Glitter ran throughout the entire dress, but where it was most prominent was the bodice. The straps were off the shoulder, and they connected to a deep plunge a few inches below the neckline. It was beautiful.

Your first thought was to anger. The dress looked like it cost him a fortune. You felt obligated to thank him, but you were also mad that he spent money on you as a form of apology. You hated when people just gave you things. It instantly made you feel like a burden.

But then your second thought was one of guilt. Leaving him so quickly, must of made him feel terrible, and that fact helped you swallow your anger. He really liked you, and you could at least show up to the gallery to support him. After all, you were still friends.

You just silently prayed you wouldn’t regret going.

ººººº

Cool air nipped at your bear arms and chest as you made your way through the night. The wind caused cold tears to fall from your eyes, and your fingers felt like icicles. You knew it would be cold tonight as winter transitioned into spring, but you didn’t anticipate it this much. You didn’t have a proper shawl to sit across your shoulders that matched your dress, so you sucked it up and power-walked to the gallery. It definitely felt nice to step into the building’s warm and inviting embrace.You instantly felt your cheeks warm up as you stood in the middle of the entryway.

The event was in full swing by the time you arrived. You were instantly surrounded by laughter, and chatter, as rich people debated amongst themselves about the intent of certain pieces of art. Beautiful melodies filled the air, as classical music played softly in the background. The ambience was warm despite the cold night air peering through the high glass ceilings. You thought it was nice, how even though the building was so well lit, you could still make out the faint glow of stars above you.

Being an observant person who could easily meld into the background, you thought the sight before you was beautiful, and you immediately felt regret grow smaller in the pit of your stomach.

You searched the crowd, trying to seek out Finn and thank him for urging you to come, as well as for the dress. You found him at the top of a balcony, chatting up one of his guests. You swallowed your uneasiness as you made it up in your mind to confront his and your feelings. Maybe I could give him a try because he really is a nice guy. That was your train of thought as you made your way up to him. I could learn to love him. You thought. If it doesn’t work out, I still have home in just a month.

As you got closer, and closer to him, you thought of Tony, and immediately froze in your tracks. You felt guilty for even thinking about someone else before you were over him. You were disappointed in yourself, for your readiness to use one man, in order to get over another one.

You were about to turn around and forget about the entire event, before Finn caught your gaze. He stopped his chat with the man in front of him and excused himself to walk over to you.

You looked like a gapping fish out of water as he approached you. Finn was always so well put together. Seeing him in a tux, only made him appear more intimidating. He somehow made you, with your dress, naturally done makeup, and beautifully pinned up hair, feel small. Little did you know, he felt smaller.

“Y/N” He started, almost at a loss for words. “You look beautiful.”

To save face you forced yourself to speak, opting for the playful banter he had come to love. “Why are you acting so surprised?” You sheepishly smirked.

“Well I didn’t think you were coming.” He beamed. He was relieved to know you weren’t still mad at him.

“I couldn’t just waste this.” You said referring to your dress, grabbing a fistful in each hand to lift it and emphasize your point.

Finn bought his eyes over you, basking in your beauty. “You look darling in that. But I thought you said you didn’t have anything to wear.”

You furrowed your brows at his words, smile faltering. “I didn’t, until you—”

“Finn! Over here darling, I want you to meet someone.” His mother called to him in english, gesturing to a well-dressed attractive woman.

“Okay.” He replied to her before bringing his attention back to you. “Stay right here. Don’t move I mean it.” He floated off, abandoning you and your confusion.

Why was he acting so oblivious?

You felt moments pass as Finn worked himself around the room. You watched him as he drifted from person to person, seemingly forgetting about you. He was in his element, and you were happy to see him happy.

Leaving him to do his own thing, you walked down the stairs deciding to occupy yourself by people watching. That was when your emotions began to overwhelm you again. You leaned against a wall, newfound glass of wine in hand, trying to drown out the noise around you. Everything seemed to remind you of Tony Stark. The rich men in their suits. The stimulating discussions. Even the drink between your fingers, reminded you of him. Now too encapsulated with your thoughts once again, you turned to the wall behind you, immersing yourself into the art. The sad girl in the painting, derided you, as you met her eyes. She was pretty, and like you she felt alone. At least we can be lonely together you thought, scoffing at the idea.

“Why that frown, everyone in here knows you’re prettier than her.” Your heart sank, as you turned to the side meeting the face of the familiar voice.

“Tony?” You exhaled, blinking rapidly as if your eyes were playing tricks on you.

“In the flesh.” He smirked down at you. You threw yourself into his open arms, as he wrapped himself around you. You felt him kiss the top of your head, then your temple, as you inhaled his scent; it had been such a long time since you had even done that. Your drink spilled on the floor behind you, and the look of shock you received from a nearby stranger made you feel deranged. It didn’t matter, how crazy you looked, Tony was here and that was all you could care about.

Pulling back from his embrace, you felt your words form at the back of your throat unable to bring them out. “What are you doing here?” You managed to ask.

“You know I could ask you the same. Berlin? Was all that French I taught you, for nothing?” He joked, holding you in place.

You were becoming blurry-eyed. You terribly missed his wittiness. “How did you find me?” Though you were happy, you couldn’t help the tears that streamed down your face.

Tony wiped them away with the pads of his thumb, “First. Dance with me.” He reached a hand between the two of you, willing you to take it.

“This isn’t that kind of an event Tony.” You chuckled.

“Who cares? I need to hold you.” His words made you tear up again. You soon became a sobbing mess, and those around you shot him dirty looks for making you cry.

“Princess.” Tony cooed, sending apologetic nods to random people as he tried to comfort you. “You’re making a scene.”

You ignored him, and kept silently whimpering, gradually growing a bit louder, as your face contorted further into a frown. “You’ll ruin your makeup.”

Still crying you began dry-heaving as you chocked between sobs. “Alles ist gut.” Tony assured strangers, informing them that all was well.

“You know German?” You squeaked between sobs.

“When I found out you were in Germany, I learned a bit on the plane ride here.” He grabbed a napkin from a passing by waiter, as he told you this.

“So you learned German for me?” You sobbed louder, causing more people to look over.

“Y/N, baby please stop crying.” Tony pleaded. “Please stop."

You sniffled and began wiping your eyes, smearing your mascara in the process. He used his napkin to wipe away the excess mess on your face. “Now can we please try this again?” He asked holding his hand out. You took it, and he lead you to the center of the room.

Now the attention was as a result of the spectacle in front of them. First a girl practically pours her expensive wine on the ground. Then starts crying. And now she and her beaux are dancing in the middle of the gallery. How unhinged you must of looked in the eyes of a stranger.

Tony couldn’t be more in love with you. He held you close, one hand clasped with yours, the other resting on your lower back as he gazed into your eyes, mesmerized by your existence. You two swayed back and forth, ignoring the judgmental stares and whispers. Eventually others gained the courage to join in, inspired by the silly Americans of the room.

He broke the comfortable silence first. “I see you like the dress. You make it look beautiful.”

“You bought this for me?” You exclaimed smiling. It made sense now, how else would the measurements be so perfect?

“Of course I did. Who else would?” He asked with a single raised brow, his signature “you better tell me, or you’re in trouble” expression.

“Mmh, hmm, Mmh.” You mumbled shrugging your shoulders upwards. Of course that was a lie, but you would tell him later.

He decided to address your lie later as well. He changed the subject for now. “So why Berlin? Why not London, or Italy? Italy was you second choice, you loved Italy!”

You giggled at the amount of times he said Italy. He bathed in the sound. “Germany was the first place Pepper could arrange on such short notice. Besides, we thought you would never think of looking here.”

“I would search the ends of the universe for you.” He said, face and tone all of a sudden serious. You inspected him for a minute, heat rising to your cheeks, before you both cracked a smile.

“You’re so fucking cheesy.” You laughed.

“I thought you loved it when I act cheesy.” He expressed, mocking fake hurt.

You smiled and kissed his chin, ignoring his dramatics, opting to be enveloped by the silence. You were calmed as he rocked you in his arms, pulling you as close as he could. His large warm hand on your exposed lower back felt like home. You two fit together like puzzle pieces, and you were happier now than you were the first time you kissed. Now you weren’t in secret. You were out in the open, as you experienced a new first in your relationship.

You broke the silence this time, as you laid your head on his chest. “So how did you find me?”

“Tonysbitch99 Y/N? Come on, I’m a fucking genius, and I’m not exaggerating. Your last tweet led me here”

Your head shot up so you could question him. “Wait. So you went out on a fucking whim?”

He laughed at your outburst. "Well actually a blue-haired girl encouraged me to check your twitter account. I found your hidden one on your old phone. That led me to your apartment.”

“Nao.” You said in a low menacing tone. You had some words for her as soon as you got back home. But when you thought of home, your mind wandered back to the obstacles in your way. Being so happy to see him, you forgot about Edward. “Tony” You sighed. “You can’t be here. Edward will find out. And you could lose everything you worked for. Your dreams have to mean something to you.”

“They do. You’re one of them Y/N.” He always had a way with words, and just as you were about to protest he cut you off. “I won’t go into details about it, but everything is fine. You can even contact both Edward and Pepper if you don’t believe me.”

You believed him. The fact that he involved Pepper’s name encouraged you to. “Enough about me though. You seem to have been keeping yourself busy.” He whispered against the shell of your ear.

“What do you mean?” You asked, flustered by his action. He suddenly, but slowly dipped you so that you could focus on where his line of sight was. Your eyes met Finn, who was busying himself with guests, as well as stealing glances at the two of you. As you focused on him, Tony peppered kisses along the heart of your exposed bosom. The gesture forced you to shoot up out of embarrassment. You knew he was marking his territory, but you immediately scolded him.

“Who is he?” He asked you, ignoring your tiny hits and reprimands. Once you calmed down, you told him about Finn. “He hasn’t taken his eyes off of us, or should I say you, since my being here.”

You averted your gaze from Tony, and he immediately knew you were hiding something from him. He pestered you, until you told him about Finn’s crush, as well as the shared kiss. By the end of it all, he was sending death glares his way.

“You should introduce us.” Tony suggested, gravitating towards Finn, before you held him taught.

“Calm yourself.”

“What did you say his name was again? Finn?” He asked, but he already knew the answer to his own question. “Finn. Finn. Finn.” He repeats, as if the name felt like a bad aftertaste on his tongue. “You know what? I like it. No, I really do, it fits him, because he looks like a fucking fish.” He spat.

You grinned and asked, “You’re not jealous are you Tony?”

“And what would I have to be jealous of? Did you not hear me say fish?” He questioned.

“He’s a sweetheart. Come on, let me introduce you.” You were about to take his hand to meet Finn, but were surprised to see that he was already making his way over to the two of you.

“Y/N, who might this be?” Finn asked reaching out to shake his hand. He knew who Tony was, most people did, but this was Finn’s way of acting as if he himself was more important.

“Tony Stark” Tony interjected, acknowledging the outreached hand, but blatantly refusing to shake it.

Finn dropped his hand, before speaking again, smile now twitching. “Nice to meet you Mr. Stark. I’m Finn Schmidt.”

“Well that’s rather unfortunate.” Tony mumbled, loud enough for the both of you to hear.

“Tony!” You chided, slapping his arm.

“What?!” Tony cried. “You heard him say his last name was Shit, right?”

“He said Schmidt.” He knew that. Tony ignored the glare on your face that demanded he apologize.

The sound of laughter rang in your ears, as you both snapped your necks towards it. Finn must of thought he was funny. “Y/N, your grandfather is hilarious.” Finn said, now deadpanning at Tony.

Tony looked down at his hands, then at your brown ones, then back up to question the handsome boy. “Do I look like her fuc—”

“You’re right Finn. My boyfriend is pretty funny.” You say, examining his face with a small smile. Your comment shocked both him and Tony. He was happy that you could finally call him that.

“Now,” you continued. “I’m a bit tired from these past few weeks. I think I’m going to call it a night. Enjoy your evening Finn. I’ll see you Monday.” You smiled, as you tugged Tony away.

“Goodnight Fish Shit,” Tony smirked over his shoulder, as you dragged him towards the door.

“It’s Finn Schmidt, you idiot.” You corrected, sending an apologetic nod back to your friend.

“What did I say?”

ººººº

Pushing the door open to your apartment, you unstrapped your shoes to place them next to the door, urging Tony to do the same. You threw your keys in a dish, and turned to him to whisper your intentions to go and slip into something more comfortable. He stared at you with a small smile as his response, dark eyes searching yours, while his remained unreadable. The dim light from the kitchen, illuminated his face, making it look intimidatingly beautiful. Or was hauntingly the word?

You suddenly felt nervous, realizing that this was the first time in months since you had been alone together. Handing him back the coat he let you borrow for the walk here, you cleared your throat, and averted your gaze before excusing yourself from the room. Tony relished in the fact that he had reverted you back to your first stage of innocence.

Upon your exit, he took a slow stroll around the room. He was careful to take in all that he had missed. Curious of how much you had changed, and how much you stayed the same.

Accents of your favorite color were spread throughout the room. You had an open kitchen, and the living room was right across from it. They were both tidied to perfection. You had sleek wooden floors, that looked like they had never been stepped on. Furniture, that looked like it had never been sat on. A stove, that looked like it had never been turned on. Your place was nice, but he could tell you were rarely home.

The walk here, you told him of your job on top of your internship, and school.You didn’t complain about it. In fact, you appreciated the chaos, and constant busyness. But he hated that you worked like a dog just to make ends meet. There was now all this time he would have to make up for, by spoiling you.

He bent over to examine the books on your shelves. Some were new. Some that he had suggested. But what he searched for were the ones you would spend your summers rereading, as if the words would leave the page; desperate to memorize every letter.

He moved on, now curious about your smart TV. What new shows were you watching? Did you still love the ones he remembered to be your favorite, or did new ones take their place?

He picked up the candle on your coffee table. The scent of honeysuckle assaulted his senses. It was much different from your usual vanilla. He sat it down to continue his journey to your kitchen.

He raided your pantry, your cupboards, and your fridge to see if you had been taking care of yourself. The contents were scarce, and he had to remind himself to scold you later.

“Are you hungry?” You asked smiling, grasping the hallway’s entry frame. You were wearing an oversized ash gray shirt whose front was tucked into a pair of frilly pink shorts. Your previously pinned hair now fallen was framing your cheeks, as stray pieces were pushed behind your ears. You removed all of your ruined makeup, and the result left a sheen of dew on the surface of your skin. If he thought you looked surreal at the gallery, ethereal was the word he’d use now due to your natural glowing state.

“Yes” He replied. But he was getting full off of your appearance alone. There was no need for useless human sustenance. The way you looked was enough.

You came into full view, grabbing a glass from your cupboards to pour yourself some water. “Well I’m afraid you’re not gonna find anything here.” You took a sip, offering him some. “But it’s not too late. There are still restaurants open.”

He reached for the glass in your hand, but instead of taking it, he placed his hand over yours to make you feed him sips of water. He eyed you over the rim of the glass before setting it down to say, “I’m full now.”

You swallowed hard, walking to sit on a stool on the other side of the island. Tony fell backwards directly in front of you, letting the cabinets behind him catch him. He drank you in with his eyes, as you felt yourself shrinking under his scrutiny.

“What?” You questioned, shy from his gaze. He said nothing, and just watched you.

After a moment of playing the staring game, you tried to break the silence again. You looked down at the shirt you were wearing to spark a conversation. “I’m sorry I stole your shirt. I needed something to remind me of you. I hope you didn’t miss it too much.”

“The only thing that I missed, was you.” He said after minutes of deafening silence. Is he mad?

Looking down out of guilt you told him, “Well I’m here now. Tell me how you’ve been.”

He felt like your question was a loaded one. Not once did he think about himself while you were gone. He was constantly thinking of you. I’ve been lost. He wanted to say. I’ve been hopeless. I felt helpless not knowing where you were. Not knowing if you were okay. So many things were on the tip of his tongue, but instead he settled for “Let’s just say, I’ve missed you.”

“That’s not what I asked.” You were genuinely curious about how his life was without you. But Tony looked like he didn’t want to explore the subject further.

“That’s how I feel.” He declared, drifting slowly towards you.

You decided to continue talking in order to fill the awkwardness. “Well its obviously how I feel too, but I wanna know how you’ve been holding up.” You ignored his sudden closeness. “Could you at least tell me how every one is? You mentioned Nao had blue hair? It was pink when we met.” Tony stood silent by your side as you asked your questions. “How’s Samuel? And Pepper?”As you rambled on and on, he traveled behind your stool, placing his hands on the chairs bars. His scent began to envelope you, and thats when your rambles became incoherent. If you weren’t already nervous before, you definitely were now.

He picked up on it, like he usually does, and asked “Am I making you uncomfortable?” in a hushed tone. You felt his breath fan the back of your neck, goosebumps formed on the little parts that were exposed. Your thighs clenched together, as you were suddenly turned on by how he made you feel both small and secure at the same time.

He grabbed your chin, lifting your neck upwards and to the side, just before he placed a soft kiss on your lips, the first kiss since your reunion. It was so soft, you felt that he was afraid you might break; or as if you were only a part to a vivid dream. Deepening his touch, he let the fingers that were lifting your chin, trail down the line of your neck. Soft fingertips brushed against your skin, until they collectively found a loose position around your throat. He let his thumb explore your jaw, while his tongue explored your mouth. Soft lips quickly turned into rough ones, as they fought to release every frustration and emotion he felt for the past five months.

When he pulled away, he had the nerve to place a chaste kiss on your cheek, as if he hadn’t just tongue-fucked your face a moment ago. “Sorry.” He apologized, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.” He then walked back to his position by the counter, as if nothing happened, turned to you and asked “So what was your question again?” Innocence and genuine curiosity etched his features, like the lust, from a moment ago, never existed.

Quickly overcoming your fit of fluster, you hesitantly stood to your feet. Tony never took his almond brown eyes off of you, as you seductively sauntered over to him. You had an idea. It was one you rarely thought of. One you never acted on; but if your time in Germany taught you something, it was to go for what you wanted.

Now standing directly in front of him, doe eyes boring into his, he shut them as you placed your hands against his chest, leaning in for a kiss. Much like his, it was soft. A feather like touch against his mouth. You barely pulled back to whisper, “follow me” against his lips. His eyes fluttered open just in time to see you retreating down the hall.

It was now his turn to become flustered, as he felt himself growing hot. He gave himself a moment to cool down, before taking his time walking down the hallway. As he poked his head in every room, just before he came to the last one, he found you sitting comfortably on your bed, stripped down to nothing but your bra and panties. Your elbows were propped up holding your weight, and your leg was crossed against your other as you patiently waited for him to enter the room. Your head was tilted as a seductive smile played on your features.

Tony returned the expression, and he was about to dive into you, until you raised your hand to halt his actions. “Take off your shirt.” You ordered.

“Excuse me?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing in amusement.

“You heard me.” You dared. Though your tone was soft, he knew you meant business. He searched your eyes for a moment, not finding his usual hint of submissiveness. So he decided to humor you. He leisurely unbuttoned his cuffs, glancing up at you every now and then. Then he took his time loosening his bowtie, dragging it off of his collar. He went painfully slow as he unbuttoned his bib, leering in your direction as he did so. Making you wait is what would usually break your spirit, and it was his favorite game. But you had learned patience while in Germany, so tonight was your night. You uncrossed your legs and raised to your feet, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt to roughly pull him into a kiss. This one was more feverish than the one shared in your kitchen, and it caught him by surprise since he was usually the one to take control.

You switched your standing positions with him so that you were now the one facing the bed. As you deepened your kiss, he got pushed further back, until his knees collided with the mattress. You stood between his legs surveying his cherry swollen lips, before you reconnected your mouthes.

You laced your fingers in his hair, breaking your kiss, to harshly tug his head upwards. The guttural groan that escaped his throat, left an ache between your legs, while liquid pooled to the center of your panties.

With the newly exposed skin of his neck, you stuck your tongue out to lick a slow stripe from his adam’s apple to his jaw, eliciting a string of curses from Tony. You then placed wet kisses down from there to his abs, kneeling to face his crotch.

The prominent bulge, made your eyes widen with anticipation, and mouth salivate from thirst. You fell to your knees, licking your lips, fingers now fumbling with the buckle of his belt. Tony grasped your chin, lifting it to meet your eyes. “Y/N, I don’t want you to think you have to do this.”

You smiled at him, assuring him that you wanted to, kissing his fingers before going back to your previous tasks. He tensed up when you placed your hand on his thigh, just as the other worked to release his cock. The veiny appendage sprung free, and its size still intimidated you as you struggled to fit it in your tiny hands. Still, you were determined to make him feel good.

You wrapped your hand around it, holding his drunken gaze, before stroking him up and down. You placed chaste kisses along the base, until you reached his crown. When you swirled your tongue around his head, Tony’s dick bucked in your hands, and his large palm shot up to tangle in your hair, urging you to suck. You swatted his hands away, and fixed him with a stare, silently telling him you’d stop if he didn’t let you have this. When confident that he learned his place, you wrapped your lips around his tip, lowering yourself further down his shaft, twisting the parts you couldn’t fit (which was still a lot.) He was a moaning mess, when his dick hit the back of your throat. You bobbed your head up and down his length, mewling when you made him groan. The vibrations from your moans, sent jolts of electricity up his spine, and he struggled to contain himself.

Gagging against him, you shot back gasping for air, only a string of spit connecting you. After six more motions like that, Tony shot three thick ropes of cum down your throat. The sound he let out as he came, made the area between your thighs slick.

He usually spewed words of encouragement when you gave him head. “Just like that” or “Suck daddy’s cock” filled your ears as you worked him through his orgasm. But to see him come completely undone, unable to form a sentence, let alone control the situation, had you feeling more than satisfied. His head was thrown back surveying the ceiling before he bought his attention back to you. His face was a soft shade of pink, and sweat covered his forehead; it worked like glue, as pieces of disheveled hair stuck to it. “Who taught you how to do that?” He asked between breaths.

“Finn.” You joked, but as soon as you said it, Tony grabbed your arm to yank you to your feet. He grabbed the nape of your neck to pull you closer to his face.

“I know you’re just kidding sweetheart, but I don’t find that funny.” He rasped in a low tone. The grip he had on your neck caused you to whimper, but you didn’t mind the sting. It only riled you up.

You stepped back from his embrace, to undo your bra, just for him to yank you back in once it was off. He began kissing between your sternum, dangerously close to the mounds of your breasts. You chuckled at the feeling of his facial hair tickling your skin, but then your giggles turned into moans as his beard created delicious burns across your surface. He reached his hands down to your waist ridding you of your panties. Once you stepped out of them, you pushed him backwards on the bed, to crawl over him placing both thighs on each side of his.

He bit his bottom lip at the sight of you, eyes burning with desire, and hands trailing from your thighs to your waist. You grabbed his dick, brushing it against your lips, before slowly guiding it to your entrance. As you sunk down on him, he sucked in air harshly, while you yourself let out a gasp of pain.

“You still fit like a glove, baby.” He moaned out, glowered at you through hooded eyes. His hands tightened their grips around your waist to help you ease yourself onto him.

A pained gasp erupted through your chest; the farther you sunk down on him, the further you stretched out. Pleasure began to burn in your loins when you met his end. You threw your head back and planted your palms against his chest, rocking and grinding on his cock at a painfully slow pace. Your clit grazed his base as you did so, encouraging you to pick up your speed. His hands that were previously on your waist, crept up your front to fondle your breasts. You grabbed his wrists to help lift yourself up and down his shaft.

The faster you bucked against him, the closer you came to meet your edge. He found his words of encouragement, when he heard your lusty pants of pleasure. “Such a pretty girl.” He praised. “Look at you go.” He whispered. He watched sweat form against your cupids bow, and your expression contort further into one of pleasure.

Your pace began to falter which is when he placed an arm around your back to sit the two of you up. Using the edge of the bed, he met your hips with his own, fucking into you at a new angle. His pace was faster, and more accurate than your own, which meant with each thrust he his your g-spot head on. His grunts and your pants echoed off of the walls as he sent you barreling towards your orgasm. You shut your eyes, letting the ecstasy hit, as you panted his name, over and over again.

Letting the pleasure wash over you, you came to a complete stop, your moans sending vibrations through Tony’s chest. He didn’t stop though, his thrusts were relentless, as he tried his hardest to bury into you. “Keep going.” He ordered you.

“I can’t daddy.” You whimpered, already fucked out, when you barely even started.

“Yes you can.” He simply said, forcing you to sit up straight. You straddled his lap, met his eyes, and placed your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, trying to will yourself up and down, but your hips just wouldn’t let you. By this time, he stopped completely as well, to catch his breath.

You laid your head in the crook of his neck, defeated. “I’m sorry.” You exhaled into his skin.

He lifted your head to cup your chin. When his eyes met yours, he pecked your lips before saying, “It’s okay princess. You did so well…but now it’s daddy’s turn.”

With that, he picked you up and wrapped your legs around him to place you at the top of the bed. He got rid of the rest of his clothes before he crawled back into bed, sinking into you again. You both let out groans at the feeling of his fullness.

Tony threw nice and slow out the window, and immediately began drilling into you. Your moans turned into deafening screams as his hips bruised your pelvis. He pried your legs open, placing quick kisses along your neck as he did so, knowing it would drive you up the wall as well as comfort you. He bit and sucked harshly along your collar bone, sending your mind into a blissful haze. Your hands shot up to his back, clawing at the flesh. You left blood in your wake, as you raked your hands down the skin. He let out a growl at the feeling, thrusting harder into you as a result.

Your second orgasm arrived quicker than your first, but the feeling was more intense. He left you writhing, and shaking on him, as ripples of pleasure coursed through your body. Giving you a minute to collect yourself he flipped you over, before saying, “I’m not done with you yet, princess.”

A look of alarm spread on your features, when you looked behind you to see him lining himself up yet again. “Tony I don’t think I can cum again.” You whimpered.

“Awe, I thought you were a big girl.” He teased, smirking as revenge for earlier. While he loved the way you look on top, it obviously hurt his dominating spirit when you took his control. He leaned down, grabbing the side of your face to better access your ear. You felt his hot breath fan the side of your cheek as he whispered, “You’re gonna take all of me, until I fill you up with my cum.” Then he let you go, causing you to fall forward.

You were so turned on it didn’t make sense. You just had three orgasms rip through you, yet your pussy was begging for more.

He slammed into you for a final time, this position trumping them all. He gripped your hips, locking in on you, giving you no chance of escape. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t try. You climbed to the top of the bed, trying to put a bit of space between yourself and Tony’s strokes, but he just pulled you back in, fucking you harder than before.

Tears welled up in your eyes. The intensity was becoming entirely too much. Your nipples brushed your bedsheets the harder he fucked you into them. His balls slapped against your clit, every time he met your hips. And his grunts of pleasure from using you, sent you toppling over the edge for a third time. The stimulation sending you into a convulsing fit. You squirted against him, covering his member with your sticky wet cream. Luckily for you, he followed shortly after, coating your walls with his thick white seed.

When you collapsed, he rolled to the other side of you, both of you breathing heavier than before. When he caught his breath, you turned over to drape your naked body onto his.

“Was I too rough” He asked, suddenly feeling like he went overboard.

“Absolutely not.” You giggled. “Please do that to me all the time.”

He smiled in response burying his nose in your hair. The smell of coconut immediately comforting him. “I love you Y/N.” He cooed.

You lifted your head from his chest to kiss him sweetly. “I love you too, Tony.” That was the last thing you both said, before drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

Whether your relationship lasted a lifetime, or ended in a year, in this moment you were happy. Happy that you no longer had to hide from the world. Happy that he was finally in your arms again. Happy to want someone, who wanted you even more.

Happy to exist at the same time as him.

A/N: Please do not repost my work as your own. Comments, likes, and reblogs are encouraged. I love you all, and really hope you enjoyed this! Thank you for reading :)

#tony stark smut #tony stark x reader #tony stark au #black reader #tony stark angst

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serasvictoria · 4 years ago

Text

Hoya kerrii

So me and @basilone have a shared headcanon that Chuck loves gardening and somewhere in between that and me watching a couple of episodes of Gardener's World that I had DVR'ed, I somehow ended up with another AU.

In this one Chuck basically ended up with a tv show at one point or another and since Tab is his publicist, I'd like to think that he played a very active role in making that happen. While Chuck is out in a garden center one day, he runs into someone that has no idea who he is and that needs his help making a particularly tough decision which is where this particular story starts.

“How do I improve my soil?”

“When should I plant out my tomatoes?”

“How do you prune your roses?”

“What flowers work best in a shaded garden?”

Chuck kept smiling and politely answered every single question that he got. He had long since learned that it was the best way to treat the attention that he inevitably got. All that people wanted was advice and sometimes a picture or an autograph, that was about it. As long as he made sure that everyone got an equal amount of time, they would simply fan out and leave him be. Sure, he’d still get stares and the occasional “Isn’t that…?” but people generally left him alone after a while.

It took about ten minutes for the small crowd to disperse. In the end the only one left was a very animated older lady who was very eager to talk to him. She spoke an equal amount about how she applied his advice to her garden and about her single granddaughter who was apparently around his age. He didn’t inquire any further about the latter. He’d heard that kind of thing many times before and ignoring those kinds of offers always worked for the best. At the start of his career, he hadn’t wanted to be impolite so he had ended up with many hastily scribbled phone numbers that he never did anything with. It was all far too embarrassing if you asked him. When he hadn’t commented on the granddaughter even after he had been shown her picture (cute, but not his type), the woman eventually took the hint, thanked him for his time and left him to his own devices.

He walked towards the plants, which had been his main objective after all, and checked out what they had on offer. He needed new ideas so he was on the lookout for something that he could write or talk about. New trends such as colours or decor, that sort of thing. And then there were the continuing improvements to his own outdoor space. Whenever he walked through his garden in the early morning hours, he usually managed to find some tiny little corner that he wasn’t completely satisfied with or plants that simply hadn’t thrived. There was always some kind of project to keep him occupied, which was exactly how he liked it.

From the corner of his eye he could see that a young woman was looking at him and he was already mentally preparing himself for questions about which plants would compliment each other or which seeds worked best in which soil. The usual. It took her another minute to finally approach him and he produced the most friendly smile that he could muster, but when she finally opened her mouth, he realised that she hadn’t recognised him at all.

“Excuse me,” she began and the first thing that he noticed was her pink sparkly lipgloss when she talked. “Can you help me?”

“Um.” Oh. She thinks I work here. “Sure thing. What do you need help with?”

“I’m a bit out of my depth I’m afraid.” She smiled apologetically as her eyes darted from plant to plant. “I don’t know anything about plants.”

“Well, you’ve asked the right person.” He couldn’t help but smile at himself over that particular comment. “Garden? Balcony?”

“Apartment.”

“Flowers or green?”

“Green.”

“See? We’re getting somewhere.” She started laughing and didn’t look quite so nervous anymore. “Follow me.”

When they walked over to the section where the green house plants were, he took another chance to look at her. Her dark hair was short and messy and he couldn’t quite figure out whether the messiness was accidental or intentional. She was wearing a denim jacket that was emblazoned with various pins (the one that instantly stood out was one that said “send nudes”). Her jeans stood out because of the various flecks of paint on them, same as the Converse sneakers that she wore. Her tote bag declared that “art makes everything awesome” and that, paired with the paint, made it pretty obvious what she did when she wasn’t hanging around in gardening centers. Another thing that he noticed was that every time that she took a sip of her water bottle, he caught glimpses of her stomach, because her faded black shirt kept riding up.

“I take it you want something that’s easy to look after?”

“Yes. The last plant that I had was a cactus when I was a teenager,” she cringed visibly, so whatever was going to come next probably wasn’t good. “I thought it was doing really well. Flowered and everything. And then one day when I tried to move it, the top just snapped off.”

“Snapped off?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what happened.”

“Probably overwatered it.” It was a very common problem. People either gave a cactus too much water or not enough water. “So no cactus this time.”

“Oh god no. The cactus incident has left me traumatised.”

“Nightmares?” She started giggling. “About cacti hunting you down to avenge their fallen friend?”

“Something like that.”

“I hate it when that happens.” He nudged his elbow against her arm in a gesture that was probably a bit too familiar, but she didn’t comment on it. He merely got a smile in return. “Wasn’t your fault. To put it simply, you just loved that plant to death.”

“That’s one way of looking at it.”

“Sadly, they haven’t invented a plant that can’t be killed yet and if they did, they certainly haven’t told me about it,” he said as he pointed out a few plants to her. “But these don’t need a lot of water so maybe they’re your best bet.”

“Which one would you go for?”

“Hmm. Rubber plants are nice,” he pointed one out to her, “But they can get quite big and I don’t know how big your apartment is.”

“I don’t really fancy ending up with something that’s as massive as a giant redwood tree.”

“And what if I were to guarantee you that they won’t get that big when they’re houseplants?”

“You’ve already put me off them now. You could just be trying to sell me a plant that gets massive just because I know jackshit about them.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” he replied with a laugh. “That would just be cruel.”

“But I don’t know that, do I?”

“Okay, okay. Fair enough.” His eyes fell on a snake plant. “Any pets?”

“A cat.”

“Me too,” he said cheerily. “So no snake plant then.”

“Will it constrict the cat?”

“Not that kind of plant. They’re toxic to dogs and cats.”

“What about that one?” His eyes followed her finger to a small rather unassuming plant. “It’s cute.”

“Hoya Kerrii.” He picked one up and held it up in front of her. “Sweetheart plant. Some people give them to loved ones at Valentines and paint messages on them.”

“Tacky,” she wrinkled her nose at that particular piece of information, obviously not agreeing with that at all. “It’s adorable. Is that one easy to take care of?”

“Very. It likes the sunshine and you water it when the soil goes dry, but don’t let it stand in water. They don’t like that.”

“Sounds like my kind of plant.” He could hear the excitement in her voice. “Which one would you buy?”

“Let me see.”

He looked at the various plants and tried to pick out the one that looked best in his opinion. He felt her eyes on him which made him want to try harder for some reason, already wanting to impress her even if he barely knew her. When he had finally selected one, he picked it up and upon turning to hand it to her, he noticed that she was looking at something else entirely. When he followed her eyes, he saw that she was looking at a genuine store employee. They were quite easy to spot because of their green and yellow uniforms and their big name tags which were quite noticeable. So she’d finally figured it out. When he looked back at her, he noticed that her eyes were focused on his chest and his missing name tag. Her cheeks flushed pink when she noticed that his eyes were on her, because he had quite obviously seen that she had been looking straight at his chest.

“You…” Her voice was hushed and the embarrassment was quite plain to see on her face. “You don’t work here.”

“No.” He leaned in somewhat conspiratorially and with a low voice added, “I don’t.”

Before he got a chance to make light of the situation, to say that he didn’t mind that she had mistaken him for a store employee and that he had genuinely enjoyed helping her. The plan had been that when the slight uneasiness from her side had ended, he could offer to buy her a drink or something like that. That had been the idea anyway right before he heard a voice behind him.

“Jesus Christ. We’re supposed to be here for work and you’re using it to hit on women.”

“Tab.” He straightened himself out and turned to face his friend, his entire expression spelling out that he was busy, but that wasn’t going to deter Tab one bit. “I was helping this young lady out…”

“Sure you were. You like helping the ladies, don’t you Chuck?” Tab flashed the absolutely bewildered woman one of his winning smiles. “Can’t help yourself. So just ask her for her number and then we can go.”

“Fuck, Tab. Really?” Chuck turned back to her with an apologetic look on his face. So now she probably thought that he came to places like this just so he could pick up women. Great. “I’m so sorry about my friend. He’s being a complete dick as usual. Literally can’t help himself.”

“I um… I won’t interrupt you any further. Sorry to bother you.” She turned to leave and he cleared his throat which made her turn her head back in his direction. “Yes?”

“You forgot this.” He held out the plant, that she had seemingly forgotten in her eagerness to get away from him. “Hope it does well with you, but I have no doubt that it will.”

“Thanks for reminding me.” She took it from him and added a quick, “Would have been a shame if I forgot all about this little guy.” There was something almost reverential in how she handled the plant, as if it were to die on her if she didn’t treat it with respect which Chuck found incredibly endearing. “Little thing,” she murmured those words exclusively to the plant with a smile, but Chuck was standing so close that he could hear everything. “You’re coming home with me.”

“Miss?” He had to ask this now before she left. “You know, maybe I should give you my number so you can send me some pictures.” He moved to stand in front of Tab, completely blocking him out of her line of vision. Because he knew Tab. He’d probably pull a face or make some choice remarks about seeing this scene play out right in front of him. “Of the plant. Obviously.” To his relief, she instantly reached a hand into her pocket and produced her mobile. “Great!” He mentally slapped himself for sounding a little bit too enthusiastic and he knew that Tab would never let him forget about this. “I mean… I’ll just…”

He grabbed his phone as well and they exchanged numbers, tapping them into their devices as the other called out the digits. She looked up at him, a bit unsure over the next question that she was going to ask and said, “What should I… I mean, your name…”

Tab laughed and Chuck could see the confusion lining her face when she looked around him so she could look at Tab. His friend pointed towards the wall. When she noticed what was hanging there, her cheeks turned about as red as a tomato, because there was an advertisement on the wall for Chuck's latest book that was pretty hard not to miss. Chuck ran his hand down his face and groaned inwardly when he saw the poster with himself on it staring right back at him.

“Oh fuck.” She tapped on her screen again and it took her a few times to spell his name right since she was so nervous. “I swear I didn’t know that you were famous or anything…”

“It’s okay. Not like I’m Tom Hanks or anything.”

“You might as well be to people that are into gardening.” She’d obviously noticed the “best selling author” bit on the poster.

“I guess,” he said with a shrug. “And you? What should I call you? It would be a bit weird if I listed you as ‘sweetheart plant girl’, right?”

“Cat,” she blurted out suddenly. “My name’s Cat.”

“Chuck.” He held his free hand out to her when she had put her phone away. “Pleased to meet you.”

“You too.” Cat took his hand and hazarded a glance back up at his face with a slight smile playing on her lips. “I um… it sounded like you were busy, so I’ll leave you to it.”

“Not that busy. My friend’s just being an asshole.” He heard Tab huff in protest, but he wasn’t going to acknowledge his presence just yet. Upon looking down, he only seemed to realise that he was still holding her hand when she gave him a slight squeeze. In a move that was probably entirely alien for most men but one that made perfect sense to him, he dipped his head down, brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Looking up at her through his eyelashes, he said, “You have a very nice day, Cat.”

“I’m sure I will,” she replied with a slightly nervous giggle. “Bye.”

She was barely even out of hearing range before Tab said, “You just can’t help yourself.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“I’ll have you know that I wasn’t chatting up women for once.” Chuck snorted derisively in reply. “It’s true! Anyway, she’s your type so I get it.”

“No, she isn’t.” Tab barked a laugh and Chuck turned around to look at him. “Oh come on. Since you’re such an expert, what’s my type?”

“You know,” his friend waved his hand in front of him as if that explained anything. “Vaguely artsy.”

“Artsy? That’s not a thing!”

“Yeah, it is. It’s your thing, that’s what it is.” Chuck took a swipe at him and Tab stepped back, just out of his reach. “Okay, alternative then.” “Since when?”

“Since college! As long as they wore shirts of vague bands, you were into them. And need I remind you that you dated that goth chick.”

For as long as Chuck could remember Tab had teased him about his preferences in women. Chuck was widely considered to have a very positive and sunny personality so whenever he introduced his latest girlfriend, who was usually dressed head to toe in black, people were always understandably taken aback.

“She was not a goth.”

“Chuck, her eyes were so black, she looked like a fucking raccoon.” Chuck rolled his eyes even though he couldn’t deny it. “I had to listen to her ramble on and on about how she was convinced that Robert Smith was God every time that she was stoned. She was awful.”

“She was alright.”

“Whatever. I’m pretty sure that you only liked her because of those tight leather pants she always wore and because her bottom lip was pierced. I know you. You were probably wondering if she had more of those on parts of her body that you couldn’t see.” Chuck shook his head with a laugh. It had definitely been one of the reasons why he was interested in her. “And you never told me if she had any other ones.”

“A gentleman never tells.”

“Fuck off.” Tab jerked his head towards the exit and patted the breast pocket of his dark blue button down shirt, indicating that he needed a smoke. “You’re a naughty boy, Chuck. If only those bored suburban housewives knew about that.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“Don’t you bullshit me. I just caught you putting the moves on some poor unsuspecting woman.” Tab knocked his shoulder against Chuck’s. “Maybe you should send her one of those pictures I keep posting on your Instagram.”

“One of those… what do you call them again?”

“Thirst traps.”

“Yeah, those. Ridiculous things.” Tab always took pictures when Chuck wasn’t looking. When he’d just wiped a dirt caked hand on his shirt or something like that, because apparently that was what women wanted to see. “Just ‘cause you send pictures to women with your shirt off doesn’t mean I have to.”

“They work a fucking charm. I’m just saying.” Several eyes were on them as they finally made their way outside with Tab leaning into a group of young women to whisper “Yes, it is him” which made some of them squeal with delight.

“Wish you’d stop doing that.”

“Fuck you. Helps sell the brand.”

“Just me walking by helps sell stuff?”

“DVDs, books, calendars, gardening tools… you name it, baby, and I’ll fucking sell it. It’s what you hired me for, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember. Don’t make me regret my stupid decisions now.”

“Whatever.” When they’d reached Tab’s car, he leaned against it while he smoked his cigarette. “You do what you love. What could be better than that? So what if I post a couple of pictures of your big dumb face when you’re repotting a plant. Chicks love that shit. Millions of ‘em follow you on Instagram for that crap.”

“Yeah well, I can still think that it’s weird, right?” Chuck dropped what remained of his cigarette on the tarmac and ground his boot down on it. “Besides, she had absolutely no fucking idea who the hell I was. It was refreshing.”

“I’m sure it was.” Tab flicked his cigarette away, unlocked the car and got in. “All those women throwing themselves at you and trying to fuck you all the time. Must be exhausting.”

“You’re exhausting,” Chuck retorted when he got in on the passenger side. “It’s not like I have a different girl in my bed every night. I’m not like you.”

“Trust me, I am well aware of that.” He pulled the car out of the parking lot and headed back to Chuck’s place so they could get back to work. “So. When are you going to send this girl a text then?”

“Don’t know yet.” Chuck didn’t really know what was acceptable in regards to that. He didn’t want to do it too soon and he didn’t want to wait too long either. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah right. You’ll send her a text the minute I’m not looking.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“You almost jumped through the damn roof when she agreed to exchange numbers with you.” Before Chuck got a chance to disagree with that statement, Tab poked a finger into his side. “Sometimes I get the impression that you never talk to women at all. You need to play hard to get, dude. Not act like an overexcited puppy. Which is basically what you are anyway. A goddamn labrador.”

“The fuck! Am not.” Chuck knocked Tab’s finger away and laughed. “Just because you’re a silver tongued bastard doesn’t mean I have to be.”

“Do me a favour. If this girl doesn’t text you first, wait until tomorrow evening or something. Please. For the love of god.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just shut up and keep driving.”

“Chuck, promise me.”

“Okay, dad! Jesus Christ. I promise.”

“Give it to me.” Tab held his hand out and Chuck sighed deeply before handing over his phone. “I’m hanging onto this, because I know you, Grant. You can’t fucking help yourself. You’ll be texting her within the hour to let her know what a great time you had or some dumb shit like that.”

“I just promised you that I wouldn’t do that.”

“Yeah and then as soon as we get to your house, you’ll tell me that you need a piss and then you’ll text her from the bathroom. Not fucking happening. Not on my watch.” He stuck the mobile in his pocket and wagged his finger at him. “And you’re not getting it back until I leave. Alright?”

“You’ve made your point.” Chuck folded his arms and stared out the window. “You do realise that I’m an adult, right?”

“You can’t be trusted. No self control.” Tab reached over and patted his shoulder. “It’s okay though. That’s why you have me.”

“Scariest part is that you’re supposed to work for me.”

“Which is what I’m doing now.”

“Taking my phone is your job now?”

“It is on this particular occasion,” he replied with a big grin. “Anway! We were there for work! Did you get any ideas or were you too busy staring into that girl’s big brown eyes?”

“I got plenty of ideas. Trust me.”

“Good. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner you can have your phone back. Deal?” Tab held his hand out to Chuck which he shook almost instantly. “See, I’m not such a bad guy after all now, am I?”

“You’re an asshole, Tab.”

“You know you love me.” They finally pulled into the driveway and when they walked up to the front door, he still felt the need to add, “So stop thinking about that girl’s ass and the things you’d like to do to it for five seconds and focus on your job.”

“Tab, I swear to god, if you don’t give it a rest…”

As soon as he opened the door, Tab slapped the back of Chuck’s head and before he managed to do anything back, Tab had already disappeared into the house. He fought the urge to tackle him and instead leisurely followed him in, fully determined by now to end this as soon as possible so he could get his damn phone back. He followed Tab out into the kitchen and naturally two bottles of beer had already been produced. Tab was just about to open them when Chuck heard a pinging noise that he recognised all too well.

“Give it to me.”

“Jesus Christ, you are desperate.” Tab dug the mobile out of his pocket and frowned when he looked down at the screen. “Fuck’s sake. This had better not be a picture of a goddamn plant.” He held the phone out to him and when Chuck reached for it, he pulled his hand away. “On second thought, I’d better look at the picture first. Wouldn’t want you to get a heart attack if she actually sent you a selfie of herself in her underwear.”

“Come on, man.”

Tab rolled his eyes and handed it back to him without paying him anymore attention. Chuck swiped his thumb over the screen and looked at what she’d sent him. It was a picture of the small plant standing on what he assumed was the windowsill surrounded by painting materials and other items. The accompanying message read “Too much sun?” and he couldn’t help but grin to himself when he saw it.

“You’re pathetic.”

“Fuck you.”

Chuck texted back a split second later with a “Not at all. Looks fine to me.” He waited about another minute before sending another quick “You free tomorrow?” He saw the tell tale sign that she was typing back not too long after and his face lit up when he saw what she had sent back.

“I am. What did you have in mind?”

#band of brothers au #chuck grant #floyd talbert #catherine taylor #my fic

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reigning-rhapsody · 4 years ago

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Résumé

Drabble; 821 words.

TW for suicide and slightly morbid descriptions of such

Genesis falls into the Mako reactor. His thoughts are those of and for no one but himself.

"If this world seeks my destruction… it goes with me."

His veins were pulsating and he could feel every last bit of the Mako mingling with his cold running blood inside the vessels hidden under fair skin, all the more pale as he extended his arms to both sides and let go of all strings holding his puppet body in the play of life the moment he leaned back manually on the railing before the darkness of the reactor's gravity took ahold of him and dragged him into his inevitable demise.

He'd always seen himself as rather light and slender and yet sinking closer into pitch blackness to soon be absorbed and adopted into the source of life for all that resides on Gaia, all that had existed once upon a time, it felt like time ran by way too fast and he had boulders tied to his limbs as he descended into the sea of the Limbo- and yet, it seemed like an eternity after all. Hitting the ground, it would only take mere seconds until identifying it was Genesis Rhapsodos who died there becomes a tedious task.

Splattered across the floor, torn apart and his beauty as someone among the people breathing and alive forgotten, instead becoming a sight only a God damn psychopath could seek comfort and enjoyment in, the outfit surrounding his fate shall be of great help to make out the mutilated mass on the cold ground reeking of metal- and that, soon, not through the material that forged it. Disgusting, a simple yet perfectly fitting word, the poet concludes in his fall.

If the world sought his destruction, it would go with him. An empty, stupid fucking promise through the need of having to dramatize even his last moments seeing another human. Or rather, a human. He's never had the right to call himself one to begin with. He's another problem in this realm of too many. Of no time to take care of things and selfishness, hatred- he'd be lying if he'd claim he wouldn't count regarding such.

Of course he does. Everyone does.

Nobody doesn't cause problems, but he's solving his own. Ending his existence, putting his presence to an abrupt halt to not have to be dealt with anymore, it was an easy way out. Maybe the spot he dropped from would be less merciful and instead of ending in a faux-firework of crimson, his lungs would fill with thousands upon thousands of souls eating him up internally like parasites, taking away his ability to breathe and let his wide eyes burn with the agony of their own deaths merging with his tears.

He'd shudder if the updraft whipping his face and brushing past him like blades about to cut him, pierce him, dissemble him right then and there in the most brutal way mother nature could think of with the winds wouldn't have his blood freeze up already. The only warmth he had left was the metaphorical burning of ice stretching across his whole, miserable little being.

That's what he felt like. Small, pathetic, insignificant and it wouldn't take long until that wouldn't be a melancholic lie but the blatant truth. He'd already reached acceptance through. That barely noticeable but so very important point when dying feels… okay.

When decaying and shattering and coming apart at the seams, rotting and breaking and being ripped to shreds, stopping to laugh and stopping to cry and stopping to breathe feels so, so right.

But he was laughing, even if inaudibly so for his voice had been robbed. And he was crying, but he didn't know what emotion to sort those tears he shed with. He was breathing, to, in choked and panicked gasps because that's how he works and always will in those last few moments as a grounded being.

Just how sad and fucking depressing was this? He's glad he's alone. He's thankful nobody has to witness the pathetic tragedy dropping deeper and deeper- unless who brought him to that place of desperation was still watching with a leer of terror and a mouth agape. He probably couldn't see him anyway- Genesis couldn't see anything but black either.

Would he blame himself, he wondered? Would Zack put the blame on his own person for driving someone to suicide? Would he? Or would he care to begin with, about someone he knew little to nothing about and saw as but a mere asshole that made his life so much harder, another problem during an already difficult time? Actually, he was the start of what made it all so complicated, anyway, right?

It wasn't his problem. Wouldn't be, that is. Right then right there in that moment, falling, laughing, crying, breathing, it was his problem. It was his fault. He knew it was his fault. He wouldn't say sorry though, it wouldn't do jackshit. So he will earn their forgiveness through other, obvious means.

#tw angst #tw suicide #unfurled wing | drabbles/rambles #black magic blazing | ic #book of scintillation | writing #i wrote this listening to sewerslvt the whole time #but i have no idea how to continue so thats all you get FDJSBJZBS

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fatbitchwrites-archived · 6 years ago

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okay so i’m doing my senior thesis on game of thrones, sansa stark, and how tumblr users talk about her so i’ve been DEEP in the anti/sansa/stark tag and i have some things to fucking say

also, i don’t know or care about any leaks, this is mainly a response to the absolute fuckery in the tags right now. let’s fucking go, shall we

first of all, blaming her for things she did as a child is fucking stupid. yes, arya didn’t do these things. yes, dany didn’t do these things. they were different people. sansa and arya are different; that doesn’t make one bad and one good. this entire show is about moral ambiguity; neither one of them are perfect. she was a bratty kid who did what she thought she was supposed to do. “what she was supposed to do” saved her own ass over and over again. if you blame ned stark’s death on her instead of joffery, littlefinger, or cersei, you are out of your goddamn mind

second of all, she has the right to be pissed at jon. they won winterfell back - the battle wouldn't have been won without her and that’s just the fuckin tea. her entire arch for the past few seasons is about getting her home back, getting her autonomy back. she told him that dany would make him bend the knee and take the home that she just got back. he gave winterfell to a foreign queen. i personally think that she has more claim to the north than he does, but the north claimed him as king and like it or fucking not - she backed him. people said she was the one who was supposed to rule and she said that jon was their king and they should respect that.

also, i’m going to lose my fucking mind if someone says shit about her “undermining” anyone. despite the fact that many of her “teachers” were shitty, she does know what the fuck she’s doing. she knew that going south was a mistake, she knew that the food would become a problem if their armies suddenly doubled without anyone telling her, she knew that resting was in the best interest of fucking everyone. she’s a smart bitch, that’s just the tea on that. as the lady of winterfell and one of the two leaders responsible for getting winterfell back, she has every right in the world to share her opinion on it’s upkeep and independence.

just bc she doesn’t agree with everything jon does doesn’t mean she is undermining him. just bc she doesn’t agree with dany doesn’t mean she is undermining her. sansa is advocating for the

third of all, her being weary of dany is absolutely 100% justified. i’m not going to discuss ships bc this is not what this is fucking about. this one is going to be a while, so settle the fuck in.

sansa is traumatized - by cersei, joffery, littlefinger, lysa, ramsay. the fact that she doesn’t trust someone calling themselves queen - esp without living or understanding the culture and history of the country she is going to rule. dany clearly doesn’t know jackshit about some of the houses she’s trying to bend to her will or understand their fear of her house in general.

not to mention, another smarty pants on the show said something like - anyone who feels the need to call themselves queen/king clearly isn’t one so fucking take that as you will bois

also, jumping back to the first episode of this season with the whole “whatever they want” bullshit; dany straight up admitted that the dragons were a danger to the people of the north and her own armies. she showed everyone that the dragons and dany are unpredictable. that was a fucking power move by dany and it backfired.

not to mention, dany has consistently threatened sansa over and over again throughout this season. sansa has every fucking right to be pissed about that. she didn’t bow to dany, the north didn’t bow to dany - having a targaryen come in and threaten her in the home that she has been fighting to get back since SEASON FUCKING ONE is more than enough reason for her to get fucking pissed. so yeah, sansa has reason to not like dany. the whole idea that her dislike of dany is not warranted is absolute fucking horseshit.

and dany didn’t save the north out of the decency of her heart, let’s get that fucking crystal clear. dany is an aspiring monarch who wants to rule over the seven kingdoms and she couldn’t have done that if the seven kingdoms’ people were all fucking dead. so sansa and the north aren’t “ungrateful” for dany. dany did what she did to preserve the country she hopes to rule over. she didn’t want to be the queen of the ashes or frost or bones or whatever the fuck. i’m not even saying that’s a bad thing - it makes total sense that she would want to do that but for the love of god, stop acting like she did this bc she’s such a good person. she did it for herself and for the kingdoms she wants to rule over. yeah, jon convinced her there was a threat and that’s why she felt the need to move forward but it was a self serving move. that’s fucking it.

to be fair to dany, jon also convinced cersei of the danger and she didn’t actually care bc she has always been fine being the queen of the ashes or frost or bones. so, yes, i will admit that dany did better than cersei did.

fourth, the little bird conversation pissed me the absolute fuck off. it’s lazy and problematic writing. there is a whole bunch of other people who discussed it more eloquently than i can atm so plz go read those.

fifth, as for the whole oathbreaker thing - get the fuck over yourself. brienne said it best - this isn’t about loyalty or oaths, it’s about survival. i understand this was in reference to the long night and the war aginst the NK but it still applies. all the signs are pointing to dany going full mad queen and sansa is going to do whatever it takes to ensure the survival of her people. and honestly, in my opinion, the benefits of this might vastly outweigh her telling tyrion. dany is going to burn hundreds of thousands of innocent people to get to cersei and if this is the start to her reign, what is end? sansa doing what she did could save so many innocent people.

also, when the fuck have y’all given half a fuck about the religious honor and shit of GoT?? like i’m sorry, you don’t get to worship arya for the whole god of death thing if you’re going to condemn sansa for not honoring the weirwood tree. fuck off with that absolute bullshit.

ALSO IF I SEE ONE MORE PERSON SAYING THAT SHE’S A SHAME TO THE STARK NAME OR A DISAPPOINTMENT TO NED STARK, I WILL LOSE MY FUCKING MIND. she is doing whatever the fuck she needs to do to protect her family. she has lost nearly everyone in her family and until theon told her otherwise, she thought she has actually lost everyone. now that she found it, she’s going to protect it. she is the reason jon even fought for winterfell and she is the reason they got it back. she is finally back in her home and with her family and you think she is going to risk that?? she is a fucking stark and you all can fuck off.

also, ned stark did everything he could to preserve his family, to keep them safe - and in the time and setting he was protecting them in, he lied to keep jon safe. in this context, keeping her family safe is vastly different than it was with ned. dany has shown on multiple occasions to want sansa out of the picture, who is going to be the future of house stark. if sansa is half as smart as anyone thinks she is, not to mention if she can read jon, she knows damn well that dany isn’t happy with jon having a stronger claim and can probably tell that she might do something to make sure he could never take the throne to begin with. letting someone else know - like tyrion or varys - means that there is some insurance policy on jon. dany can’t fucking off him or have him killed or some shit without cause now that other people know what’s going on.

about the future of house stark comment - bran, as the three eyed raven, cannot and does not want to rule winterfell; also, dany seemed pretty fucking pissed with bran bc he knew too much so.... also arya has shown no interest in ruling winterfell. jon, as it stands right now, doesn’t have the stark name. the actual name of house stark will fall to sansa.

sixth, “sansa is conspiring against dany so fuck her.” HA BITCH, what the fuck do you think dany is doing???? what the fuck do you think everyone in this goddamn garbage fire of a game is doing??? i personally don’t consider her pulling a varys and doing what she can to protect winterfell and her family (and the realm indirectly) is conspiring to do shit but we can fucking go this route if you want bois.

there is a theory that dany was planning on legitimizing jon as a stark, like she did to gendry, to get sansa out of the way as a political rival and i think that’s def true. whether or not that was her plan to begin with doesn’t matter; she sees sansa as a threat and we’ve seen the lengths she’s willing to go to if it means eliminating a threat. dany even said that she’s also clever and learning how to play the game of wits instead of just using force. that implies that she’s planning on doing more of that shit. she is absolutely conspiring; so is tyrion, and varys, and arya, and cersei, and jaime, and literally everyone. except maybe jon??? i personally think political!jon might be a thing but also the manbun boi has been proving to be just as pretty and dumb as we all knew he was going in.

seventh, “sansa admitted to wanting to be queen” yeah in season one, when she was starry eyed and a fucking child. but yeah, shit on her and not dany. it’s not like dany says “i’m the queen” every fucking five seconds. clearly, sansa is the real power hungry one for wanting to be the lady of winterfell and keeping her fucking family safe.

eighth, i wan to thank all of the antis in the tag bc you are absolutely proving my fucking hypothesis that most, if not all, of the hate centered around sansa is rooted in sexism and femmephobia. it’s been absolute hell dealing with all of your comments but i truly owe y’all for proving that to me

#ingrid speaks #got #sansa stark #long post

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manicpixietrashfire · 6 years ago

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Everyone has a mom...even Billy Hargrove [Snippet]

I started working on it again ‘cause life is stressful and boring at the same time and I figured I’d share this snippet...

“Enough about my day, sweetheart, how was school?”

Utter bullshit.

“Fine.”

She raised an eyebrow again. “Again? The past four days have been ‘fine,’” she said, her voice going a little hard. Her tone maybe breaking into the stern, maternal category. “A word other than ‘fine’ would be nice.”

“It was lovely,” he glared at her, curled his words nice and slow like he’s talking to a dunce. “How’s that?”

She snorted. The shrugged that followed was blasse like he hadn’t taken a tone with her at all. Neil would never. “Other than the fact that you’ve never enjoyed a day of school in your life, I’ll take it. It’s better than fine, honestly. Lovely is lovely, sunshine.”

There are people in this world that Billy’s pretty sure are constantly asking to get pummeled--people like his ma. He would sock in the fucking face if she were anyone else. If she were some clown at school she’d be missing a tooth by now. She’s as much of a shitheel as he is; people who know her better than he does use to say that. Now, he believes it.

She’s infuriating.

But then again so is he.

“Anything ‘lovely’ in particular happen today?” She asked.

She's like a dog with a bone, no wonder he's the way he is.

He glared at her over their dinner. Nothing lovely happened, it’s high school in Indiana nothing good ever happens. This place is like the eighth circle of hell. He stabbed into his broccoli loudly, “no.”

The best thing he’s seen in a week is Carol slapping Tommy in the face for spilling chocolate milk on her sweater. If it weren’t for Harrington he would’ve died of boredom a long time ago. He lives for the affronted look Harrington gives him when he leaves as soon as the bell rings--when he’s out the gate and he’s still in the parking lot fuming waiting for Max and that curly haired bastard.

It’s hysterical.

His ma nodded like she was considering his simple ‘no’ carefully and when she stopped she chuckled softly. “Okay, I get it. School sucks. That’s not going to change. Did you at least talk to that teacher?”

Billy looked at her again, expectancy wrote on her face.

“I forgot,” he muttered. “I'll do it tomorrow.”

With Neil he’d never be able to use an excuse like that, he especially wouldn’t throw out a weak little ‘I’ll do it tomorrow’ when they both know he fucking won’t.

He isn’t about to explain anything to his fucking calculus teacher. He’s not planning on telling anybody about his new 'situation,’ he’s sure as hell not mentioning the fact that his old man doesn't want to see him until he's obligated by the court of law to do so. He’s not going to explain that he’d rather miss two weeks of homework because he left his fucking textbook at that hellhole than risk getting caught by him.

She sighed under her breath. “You forgot or you don't want to?” She's got that knowing look in her eyes. It reminds Billy that he’s a bad liar and always has been. “I'm sure she'd be understanding, she might even give you a second book if you ask.”

Or he’s making excuses.

Or he’s using his ‘sob story’ to get an extension.

Or he’s just fucking irresponsible.

He is irresponsible.

“Okay,” he said, not looking at her.

“I don’t think it’s fair to you that your grades are going to get messed up because of a small mistake,” she said with those soft blue eyes of hers.

Small mistakes can get you killed, it makes perfect sense to him.

“And I don’t think it’s fair that your fa--” she cut herself off, Billy was grateful that she did. He’d hate to do it for her, he’d hate to have to hear anything about him. His own head is enough. “I just don’t think you’re being fair to yourself.”

She doesn’t know jackshit about what’s fair. She can’t know it if she can still look at herself in the mirror every morning. If she can still look at him every goddamn day.

“Okay, ma,” Billy said.

#this is probably a really bad idea #someone knock me off my pedestal before i get killed #billy hargrove #stranger things #harringrove #not a vault piece anymore #my writing

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stagmanparty · 5 years ago

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Like I agree the system has to change...but that change is all on japan´s hand and Jump is just one of what four dozens magazines? Most of them are monthly so they have a little more breathing room but artists STILL comment on how difficult is to keep the rythim and how they get cancelled at the drop of a hat.

The only reason Jump keeps being brought up? It´s the most famous one. At one time it held the title of Best Selling Magazine in the world, not comic magazine, not just in japan.

Best selling period, beating Time and National Geographic.

That´s why it has such a high standard cause at one point it stood at the literal top of the world.

Does this makes any of this shit fair? Of course not.

But this whole thread of guil tripping is just that “oh you cant enjoy manga cause awful things happen in the company”

Yeah, want me to list all the shit Marvel has done over the decades? It´s gonna take a while.

Manga artists have to pull weekly releases? Most american artists handle two or three titles simultaneously cause that´s the only way to make a profit cause the american industry was, is and will most likely always be a niche market

(and no, the mcu did jackshit to change that)

Manga get cancelled too easy? Take a shot for everytime marvel relaunches a title cause it failed to sell in a given year, then drop the keys cause you´ll be fucking wasted.

Company is being unfair? Learn the stories of Siegel, SHouster, Finger and all the artists that got screwed by their publishers.

In the 90s Marvel got so shitty their top artist up and left to make their own company.

Even Stan The Man himself for all the good he did and the loveable person he surely was pulled some shady crap that even made him lose friendships.

So marvel has it worse? No of course not but they´re harldy the saints by comparison nobody is.

Again does the manga industry needs to change? Absolutely.

You know what other industry needs to change? One that´s equally if not worse? The idol industry. That shit is terrifying but again it´s in japan, japan society is the one that needs to stand up and do something for themselves.

But having this guilt trip rant against a dude tweet that´s simply saying “I like shonen manga better than marvel” I´m sorry but I hate this shit.

Again, the company is shit but it´s something that has to be fixed there cause there´s literally nothing fans can do at this side of the pacific unless they all collectively decide to boycott (which is not happening) which lead me to my point, how the fuck does Matteo loves Jump manga...if he´s so adamant against the company?

I mean he has to READ the manga in order to like it...so he´s suporting the company, right?

Unless he´s pirating in which case his complain is completly moot cause he´s NOT supporting the company financialy so...

Bottom line, I fucking hate this kind of guil trip twitter threads.

And as for Jump artists, I hope things change for the better for them, THEY do deserve it.

EDIT:

I had to double check but yeah what the fuck is this “poor brave warrior” thing with Kubo? Like dude was 22 when he started making zombie powered which yeah means his first one shot was published when he was 19...but then he had to wait three more years to get published. And teens getting scouted by one shot isn´t that unusual like Katsura also started in high school.

Again, did the publisher screwed him over? Oh they did but the tweet makes it seem like they kidnapped a teenager or some shit...

This fucking wrecked me.

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kylecrane · 7 years ago

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Dying Light: So many questions!

-and a few answers.

Hi Taff!

I’ve been interested in your blog for a while and I’d like to pose some questions, because thinking and theorising is fun, and I’ve not got anyone to do either of those things with.

Hi! Oh dear, look at all 'dem questions! Thank you! @target-on-my-redshirt.

First of, thanks for the interest to begin with. I love chatting about Dying Light, especially things away from game mechanics, since I'm a fan of the concept and characters first, the gameplay second. Even if the gameplay is an absolute blast and a very high bar to reach for other games. But I digress.

I'll be answering them on here, since this is my main Dying Light blog, and I hope you don't mind me answering them in public. Let's see if we get a discussion going, hm?

Do you think that beyond the obvious potential for DLC, techland will release any concept art, any ideas that were dropped in the cutting floor or initial ideas for the story?

There's already some concept art out, and you can find it in my /concept art tag on here. Though I admit, it doesn't show anything much of the cut content, though we do see different types of costumes that aren't found in the finished product. What we do know about though is that originally we were meant to be following four characters (much like Dead Island), from which I believe Jade and Zere were meant to be playable characters? Maybe even Spike or Brecken, it's been a while since I've read up on that.

Though they eventually settled on focusing on Crane.

I think we can still see some remnants of cut story content though, as well as gameplay mechanics that ended up dropped. The most glaring one being the extra vial of Antizin that Crane pockets as he is ordered to destroy the stash, right along with the hint on a side quest to collect spent vials to stop people from filling them with potentially poisonous shit and passing it off for the good stuff. And then there's a bugged overlay message you get when a Boomer Bomber explodes under you as you crawl through a duct in the Oh Brother Where Art Thou quest. You get a message along the lines of "You've been infected, etc..." which leads me to believe that originally you were expected to keep yourself dosed with Antizin. Much like the malaria infection in Farcry (2?) and the necessity for Zombrex in Dead Rising 2. Another leftover from the original is a reference from a survivor to recognizing Crane from the *posters*, which'd indicate maybe at least one of the original playable characters was famous for something or the other. Unless, of course, there was a bounty system in which Rais put up badly drawn Crane posters.

I wonder if they always planned on having a classic generic tyrannical villain, or if sights were initially set higher.

Are we ever going to hear about the other characters backstory? I loved the addition of the random encounter explaining Spike, and we've heard a bit about Jade - what about the others? Will we see the addition of any new characters? Will we know anything new about the witch woman who brews you the potions?

I'd love a little more background reveal, to be fair, but I don't see it happening. Not in the original Dying Light anyway, even with their planned content drops that will include story expansions. Mostly because that content is free, and anything that'd involve dialogue would require them to either ditch Crane as the main character (plausible, but unlikely), or look for a less prolific voice actor to step in.

Will there ever be the inclusion of tie-ins to the new novel that recently released? Will they consider releasing a small playable story prequel of their own?

The novel, Nightmare Row, was not recently released. It was only recently translated though, if I remember right. Either way, Nightmare Row read more like what we originally saw the game being advertised as, with quite literally the shift of night and day making all the infected more dangerous, rather than focusing on a new mutation and the occasional hyped Biter/Viral. Which I'm fond of, since it gives the virus some time to mutate and start producing the range of variations we see in the game.

Do I think we get a tie-in mission? No. Much as I'd love to play a game that takes place at the cusps of an outbreak like this, I don't think that'll be part of the Content Drops. Again, I think of the cost of assets to get this done.

And is there any new concept ideas for DLC in terms of playable story beyond extra skin packs? Do you think there’s any whackier ideas for weapons or side missions? Will there be any additions that will be definitively linked to the story? The following was an absolutely incredible addition, but I feel that many players were let down by the ending - especially as it directly contradicts Jades wishes (she wanted to keep fighting, and wanted to die for her friends, but Crane accepts a nuclear detonation in the end? Alternatively, we learn that everyone will die in vain anyway or turn into nasty Zambies?

Zera has been working on a cure with Camden for the entire story - does this bear fruit? What is the global backlash against the GRE?

As of writing this, the new content drop #1 was announced (though they deleted the Tweet- sneaky!), so here's your answer on the special weapons. And the story? Ahm, well, I have my very own set of bones to pick with it, in particular the implications of leaving the cure with a single scientist in a run down lab without supplies, and how we are expected to believe that the world turned its back to Harran entirely. That and, yes, Crane's sudden inability to think as he detonates a nuclear warhead that would do absolutely jackshit to clear the infection, but likely only make it worse. I am however quite interested in anyone turning into a sentient volatile once they've inhaled the experimental gas, since that is a scary thought and would make for an interesting extra level of challenges in Dying Light 2. If Techland chooses to go down that route, of course. Then again, it also does a good job explaining the Night Hunter, so there is that.

If there is extra content or a sequel, where techland take it? What new challenges will be bought to Harran?

I'd think that Dying Light 2 will not be taking place in Harran, but take us somewhere else for a scenery change. And considering I am leaning towards Volakyle being the canon ending, we're likely going to see a much larger spread of the virus than in the original.

When we left off, Crane had the GRE's 'secret document' - will they try and retrieve it?

He did not any more. In fact, Rais transmitted the document to the public, which caused the GRE to get into quite a bit of trouble.

Did any of Rise's (yes I butchered the spelling of his name) men survive? We killed his right hand man but what about men who may have defected? Will they be a threat to the Tower? Do the survivors of the tower ever get saved? What if the document is stolen and released to the world? Will there be other isolated incidents? Or might it become a world wide spread as seen in the Resident Evil cinematic universe? Will the GRE redeem themselves and try to re-recruit Crane into helping them on another mission?

I have so many opinions about this. Enough to have written a 210k word story on the matter, which isn't even halfway done, and deals with pretty much all of the above. Including the "What now?" and a few tweaks here and there, in particular to the Following expansion.

But since I am not going to expect you to read it:

After Rais fell (hehe, literally), I'd have expected someone new to take charge, but have you seen the amount of men suddenly turned? How did he do that? Did he weaponize the virus at his workbench in a day? According to the game, pretty much all of his men are dead or turned, which I suppose was really just done for gameplay purposes, rather than having any real story meaning. So, far as I am concerned, his garrison lived on after his death, though I'd hope that the Tower would have taken advantage of the initial confusion to at least get a bit of the Antizin from them. Aside of that? I'd wager there are still enough scared assholes in the Zone to cause the Tower problems and to compete for food and medicine.

The GRE redeeming itself has already fallen flat in the Following, as they stopped the Antizin drops. That's a death sentence for everyone inside the Zone. I find that unlikely, but that's what the Following led us to believe. Camden creating a cure is unlikely too, since he doesn't have the staff or resources for it. But it does lend itself to the question on what they'll do without the cure, and what will happen when the the virus *does* get out, because really. It will. It *did,* with quarantines existing outside of Harran already where they evacuated other infected to.

Anyway, those are some questions I have thought about!

...and I tried to keep my answers short, and if you'd like to talk more, I'll happily pop into private messages on Tumblr.

#Dying Light #Lore #Research #Answers

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stellarfoam · 7 years ago

Note

If you're in need of a prompt.... first time Vax met Trinket?

*heelies in 2 hrs later*

Why did he ever leave his sister alone? Why were they ever out of each other’s sight, why did he leave her, why why why?

And Vax knew the answers of course. He left his sister alone so they could get multiple things done at once - like watching the camp while he gathered illicit gold for a few more days of survival. They were out of each other’s sight when they had to do strange things like sleeping and pissing.

And he left her because it needed to be done, and she could take care of herself, and nothing had ever happened before.

That reasoning felt so stupid in hindsight, but Vax was known for his thievery, not his general intelligence. This left him to stew in an abandoned camp featuring glowing coals and the upsetting lack of his sister’s things.

She wouldn’t leave him. She would never. They were in this together, for life, them against the world. No, he wasn’t worried about his sister’s loyalty. But the world never did play fair or allow jackshit for them, and this knowledge covered every action and thought in a layer of sick worry.

He filled the slowly stretching hours with mindless tasks. He built up the fire again, taking extra care that it wouldn’t smoke (much). He patrolled the perimeter. He sharpened his knives. He paced around the fire and broke sticks into more kindling than a half-elf could possibly need. He sharpened his knives. He re-tied his boots, recrossed the laces, rubbed halfheartedly at the smudges on his leather, and contemplated learning to sew so he could patch his clothing.

The sun moved a little.

Eventually enough time passed that the embers from his fire added tiny dots of light next to the stars. A hunched figure melted out of the shadows and he was on his feet in a moment, daggers in hand, before he saw that it was Vex.

Vex, clutching a bundle of quivering brown fur.

“Where the hell have you been?” Vax demanded, his voice sharp with concern and an unhealthy amount of relief.

“You’re always finding little trinkets to take with you,” she scoffed as she put the lump on the ground. “I wanted one of my own.”

“So you wandered into the woods and came back with a bear cub?” And that’s exactly what it was, down to the tiny claws that would someday grow large enough to kill a man, round ears, and the black eyes showing their whites.

“His mother was killed. He needed a home.” She began rifling through his pack and pulled out one of the little bits of food they had left, offering it to the fearful cub. It sniffed at it then pulled back. Vax couldn’t blame the little thing - he’s not sure he would touch something edible from the bottom of his pack either. She sighed and placed the food next to her on the ground before studying the woods and the fire fiercely.

Vax braced himself for an argument. “Vex, we can’t feed it, we can barely feed ourselves –”

“Trinket isn’t an it, Vax,” she hissed before he could even really get started. “And don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”

“Whatever,” he snapped and sat down on his bedroll with a huff. There were some moments of tense silence as she continued to try and coax the thing to eat. “Where did your pack go?” he asked eventually.

“I lost it,” she replied, and if she hadn’t been avoiding his eyes before she certainly was now.

“You… lost it,” he repeated slowly. “You –”

“Yes, I lost it, I’m a terrible sister and a horrible person and I randomly adopt bear cubs from the woods, I know Vax, I know, okay!” Her voice cracked and he was next to her in the next second to hold her close.

“Shh, Stubby, it’s okay,” he murmured. The feeling of tears began to seep into his shoulder. “We all have our faults, hm? I steal gold, you steal baby animals, it’s okay. We’ll make it through this. We always have -” he took her face in his hands to brush the tears away - “we always will.”

Tears still spilled from her eyes but she nodded and cracked a wavering smile. The cub toddled up to lay on her legs and stare up at Vex balefully as if only one of the two of them could afford to be upset at any one time, and it was Vex’s turn to be unhappy. She ran her hand over his fur as Vax watched silently.

He sighed, then asked, “Trinket, you said?” He reached out to pet the cub; it - he - shied away from his hand, but at least he didn’t try to bite it.

“Yeah,” Vex sighed softly. “Yeah. His name’s Trinket.”

Vax nodded and pulled his bedroll over. It seemed the two of them would be sharing tonight, considering Vex’s pack had gone for a mysterious and unwelcomed stroll. “Welcome to the family, little guy,” he said. “You can eat my vegetables.”

Vex giggled wetly and he knew that they were going to be okay. And, well, maybe it would be nice to have a foot warmer.

#you asked i answered #lee writes #cr #cr fic #vex and vax #thank u for sending this in anon!!!!!#anon #my stuff #my fic

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knightofbalance-13 · 7 years ago

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I Didn’t

http://dudeblade.tumblr.com/post/163454403646/so-kob-how-exactly-did-you-debunk-my-claim

1. That was not the argument at hand in the OP: The argument was whetehr or not the shows you listed where better than RWBY.

And 2. I actually did compare RWBY to them. And I even pointed this out the last time you tried this and said how it was an example that RWBY stands up even to professional shows.

But, guess it’s easier to fight a strawman huh?

Primarily out of curiosity. To see if they still held up even after all these years, and to see how they compare to RWBY. IMPO, they are BETTER. Oh wait, that’s an opinion that makes RWBY seem mediocre in comparison, no WONDER you think that all I do is bash RWBY despite the fact that I want to love the show. It makes SO Much SENSE NOW.

No, you were talking in a very affirmative and factual way in the OP, meaning you were claiming yourself to be right. (https://knightofbalance-13.tumblr.com/post/162855264440/yes-yes-it-was)

And I realized that the show, Beast Wars, one of the very FIRST 3D Animated shows ever aired, is better than RWBY.

So no, you were not saying an opinion, you were trying to pass off an opinion as fact. As you are still doing now. And half of your argument is strawmaning me for pointing this out by twisting the facts: if you are so right, you wouldn’t need to do this.

1. So, if Cinder is supposed to be hated, why are we shown her having regrets about things? Why are we shown her to be in pain? These are things that are done to give us a reason to sympathize with a villain, but we have yet to actually be SHOWN or even TOLD what her reasons are for wanting power. She’s supposed to be sympathetic in those scenes in Vol 4, but earlier she acts like a villain who is aware that she’s evil, and is okay with that. Also, the Joker is a force of nature, no villain can top him. But Rampage utterly DEMOLISHES Cinder in the ‘motive’ department.

because she was give n some humanity, some flaws, to make her less two dimensional. By this logic, because the Joker has a tragic backstory, we are meant to feel sorry for him when that is clearly not the case.

And here’s a problem I stated in the argument: Beast Wars is finished. RWBy is not. In the future, we could very well get more information on Cinder’s motives. You can’t make judgements like these until you have all the facts: And yet you are making broad strokes about RWBY.

No...The Joker is not a “Force Of Nature” villain: Darkseid is an example of that type of villain. The Joker is the “Insane, tricky, unpredictable, chaotic trickster” type of villain. This is a problem you have here: You cannot tell the difference between two types of characters. It’s like saying Shinji Ikari is a better protagonist than Goku: they are not compatible. In fact: That in and of itself is a problem here. Rampage was built t be the “Tragic insane” character whereas Cinder is the “power hungry manipulator” villain: they are not compatible thus the argument comes down to who you like subjectively better and in an argument, that means jack shit.

And another thing: You STILL don’t explain jackshit abut your side: How does rampage crush Cinder in motive? Why does he? You can’t just claim these things as fact.

2. Beast Wars IS better. For starters, the writers NEVER withheld valuable information, and they never relied on forced humor. Not to mention the fact that the characters are fleshed out, and get more than one episode in the limelight.

Okay, so first you say that you are stating your opinion and now you are repeating what you said earlier but as fact...Dudeblade, you can’t even go a paragraph without contradicting yourself.

Okay...So? How is that bad? How is not withholding information bad in RWBY or Best Wars? in fact: How do you know withholding info wouldn’t make Beast Wars better or not make RWBY better? No explanation? FIne, your argument is invalid.

How is the humor forced or not forced? What is the tone of Beats Wars and how does it ? Any examples? No? Then I claim bias against RWBY again.

And RWBY isn’t finished: Stop making jumps in logic just to suit your narrative.

3. This is because RW/BY has a cultish following of fans who refuse to see the bad in the show. Like you. You claim that RT isn’t homophobic when they literally repeated the same unfunny “fag” joke in Camp Camp TWICE! And this is just proving my point. “If it’s professionally made, but has a lower rating on IMDb, then we can compare it to RW/BY“ - That’s you. “If it was professionally made, but has a higher rating than RW/BY, then it isn’t fair to compare the two.” - That’s also you.

And I can claim that Beast Wars has a cultist following fueled by Nostalgia and it’d hold the same weight as yours: none at all. because neither of us provide any evidence. In fact, I can say that you are biased against RWBY and then as proof point out all points in which you ignore aspects of RWBY (such as being incomplete, different types of villians and how the shows are structured) or never give examples (humor, motives, characters as well as action, vocals, audio and animation) in this very post in order to declare Beats Wars better.

I can also point out the fact that you call Camp Camp unfunny but admit to watching South Park and the SImpsons were they made those exact same jokes.

And no, I am not. As we will see latter down the line, I actually compare RWBY to higher rated shows. You are the only one who refuses to acknowledge RWBY as being professional until you can say that it is worse than something else.

Here, let me do it right now. Jimmy is the smart kid who feels like an outcast because of his intillect - Something that people can relate to because they can feel like an outcast for simply being BETTER than others at something. Carl is the kid with the medical conditions and weird obsession, which everyone has. Sheen is the guy who hero worships a fictional character, much like how you worship miles and Kerry. Cindy is the girl who is jealous that her title of “The Smartest” was toppled, and Libby has an obsession over music - something that EVERYONE has, or at least KNOWS a person who is.

Except that I don’t feel like an outcast because of my intellect, in fact, it wasn’t because I had something over other people but rather I LACKED something from them. So Jimmy would seem pretentious and entitled to me. Not everyone has a weird obsession and definitely doesn’t have medical conditions. And you missed the ACTUAL chance to be right and say “Kamina or Simon The Digger”, two characters I heavily look up to. Instead, you bring up an attack on me that makes you look like an ass.

Cindy just comes off as a brat to me because I LIKE it when someone is smarter than me: it allows me to see what I am doing wrong and improve. And Libby’s obsession with music is literally the only thing I can relate to.

See the problem Dudeblade? Not everyone THINKS your way, not everyone AGREES with you: In fact, most people don’t.

Going off of your point: I can say the same to the characters in RWBy. Everyone has been like Ruby at some point, blissfully believing in a good world. A lot of people have parental problems like Weiss (like you), a lot of people can relate to trying to fight against the world while trying to NOT become like their enemy and a lot of people can relate to Yang’s depression (as I have and I know you have.) Even if you bring up my previous point: That just means the two shows go after different things.

But if you insist on this, let me ask you: Name a trait of Jimmy’s that isn’t smart or condescending. Name a trait of Carl’s beside sick and weird. Name a trait of Sheen’s beyond stupidity and obsession. Because I can with RWBY: Ruby’s issues with dealing with the world not being what she thought it was, her eagerness to make friends and her guilt about putting people around her in danger. Weiss has her overcoming her racism, learning to put aside her grievances with Ruby to work with her and become her best friend and her admiration of her sister Winter. Blake has her cowardice, her martyr complex, her issues with Adam as well as her inability to let people help her. yang has her maturity, her depression and overcoming it, her good nature, her relationship with Ruby and her father, her duality with her mother and her tendency to be harsh towards those she cares about. You do not give an example of how they are better characters beyond being relateable which RWBY has as well.

Oh hey, look! MORE proof that IMDB ratings are all that matter. Despite the fact that you claim that LoK has an unfair advantage when it has a higher rating.

1. Because they are factual and the only place RWBY shares a page with all the examples.

And 2. I pointed out the exact same advantages that the other three had as well:

And unlike Beast Wars which is a part of an existing franchise, complete and had more professional backing: RWBY didn’t and still doesn’t. Again, while this is amazing of Beast Wars, RWBY is still factually rated higher so your opinion doesn’t hold much weight.

And this while being completed and backed by a popular network whereas, again, RWBY is NOT. SO even with all those advantages, RWBY still beats it out.

And it aired on Cartoon Network and is complete. So your statement fails.

I bring them up in BOTH sides of the coin: You only argue them when they have the higher ratings.

More proof that you only care about ratings when it comes to comparisons.

Contradicted when I demanded that you explain why it was better right BEFORE that as well as the fact that I bring up this right at the end:

And the only one I really fond impressive is Beast Wars. Storm hawks and Jimmy Neutron are both utterly crushed by RWBY in teh ratings, who doesn’t have network backing, isn’t a part of an existing franchise and isn’t complete so it can still go up.

And again: ratings are factual. You cannot make them up nor can you fake them. They are a factual way of quantifying a series' quality. You have yet to disprove that.

YOU SEE! You just proved my point. You just said that the other shows don’t matter because they got crushed by ratings, but when it’s RWBY that’s getting crushed, then it’s unfair because they had “network backing.” NEWS FLASH! - LoK got SCREWED OVER by the network. Your argument is ALREADY contradicted by actual facts.

Except that these exact points you bring up were brought up with the previous three when they had lower ratings: You are only now arguing them because you have a chance at twisting the facts.

And how was LOK screwed over? Because it got so low ratings that Nickolodean pulled it off the air? (http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Trivia/TheLegendOfKorra) Wouldn’t a show getting pulled or canceled be a sign of it being bad normally unless proven otherwise, which is not the case here? Especially since TLA never did?

Again, because people like YOU keep claiming that it’s “unfair” to compare RWBY to things like LoK or SU. RWBY has the advantage of not having to deal with censors, and being able to go back to fix things they are aware would make fans confused, but they don’t take advantage of it. Which is a problem considering that you seem to ignore the fact that other shows have to deal with censors, and don’t have the luxury of being able to hire TFS or Funimation VA for one-shot characters. when SU uses a guest star, it’s for a character that is special, and is likely to return. RWBY? - “Oh hey! Let’s hire TFS voice actors for these characters” “Great, which ones?” “These guys.” “But, they’ll only be there for one episode…And they hardly have any lines.” “Exactly! We’ll get the recognition of USING TFS actors to voice characters,and NOT have to worry about paying them so much” - That? That was the (probable) thought process that went into the idea of using TFS actors. Though, it’s also my cynicism talking as well.

I claim it is unfair...then proceed to compare them to RWBY with the same standards that I did with the previous three while you refuse to argue ratings until they are higher than RWBY’s? And...so what about censors? Stuff that the censors deal with nowadays don't concern the quality of a show: Lesbians and black people do not make a good show. They are inconsequential to a show’s quality.

And that’s true...only Tara Strong, one of the most iconic voices in the business.

And a constant compliant with RWBY has always been the voice acting: So wouldn’t hiring more professional actors fix the problem? So attempting to fix a problem is bad now?

And you just admitted to having bias being prevalent in your argument: Why should anyone take what you say here seriously?

Much like how RWBY isn’t even noteworthy enough to get a review by the Nostalgia Critic despite LoK and SU doing so. And considering that you used the words “mostly just using Smash Bros brawl for acting” when you conveniently ignore the stolen assets that RWBY uses, I’m guessing you don’t even know the story at all.

... Nostalgia critic doesn’t review cartoons anymore, especially such recent ones. That's Doug Walker and those are Vlogs, personal opinion. Not factual reviews.

And that “assest stealing” has been disproven (https://lovenotefromcoco.tumblr.com/post/155633293739/slashmaiddeviantartcomartrwby-wtf-645284611). A RWBY fan would know this.

Here’s another thing: Just because RWBY is the first American-made anime DOESN’T automatically excuse any of the mistakes that it constantly makes. I know that’s a hard concept for you, but I can do this about Beast Wars and the mistakes that it made despite being one of the first 3D animated shows to ever air.

Okay...never said it did: You were just trying to devalue the accomplishments of RWBY so I showed accomplishments you couldn’t devalue.

Ahem; Tigerhawk got killed off too early, we never got to explore a whole lot on Megatron’s dragon mode, Blackarachnia whines about not being trusted too much despite having a lot more bad blood with the other Maximals, they used TIME TRAVEL as part of the plot, and Rampage’s caring nature wasn’t explored that much.

And yet you claim it to be better than RWBY when I see many of the same mistakes you claim RWBY has done in here. And when I did this in the past, you still called me a fanboy so why should this be different for you?

There, I just listed off some of the things in Beast Wars that were mistakes/irritating. But unlike RWBY, these are just mine, whereas most of the gripes about RWBY are shared by most of the rwde tag.

And are these shared by most of the RWBY tag on Tumblr, let alone circles that do not include Tumblr? Are they shared by the critics of RWBY or that one jackass FMF? No, so by your own logic, you are still wrong here.

Grow the fuck up kob. RWBY isn’t “Magically exempt from criticism” like you say. Neither are miles, Kerry, Grey, and the rest of crwby. They have to be held accountable for their bullshit excuses and mistakes, or they’ll only receive praise from the likes of you and the rest of the cultish fndm. Meaning that they’ll keep making the same mistakes over. And over. And over.

Funny you say that: I did in fact criticize RT in my Volume 4 review (https://team-crtq.tumblr.com/post/162758524659/volume-4-review). I’m not the one lying, attacking people, being hypocritical, calling someone racist in the tags for no reason other than Ad Hominin and attacking people. I’ m not the one who refuses to say anything but one side of a conversation, refuse to do the same for other shows and then calls everyone who disagrees with them a “cult.” That’s just you.

You failed in the very title of your post so I don’t know what you were expecting.

#rwde bullshit #dudeblade

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