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spencerreidshortstories · 4 years

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You meet the team

Description: You have dinner at Rossi’s house so you can meet Spencer’s friends and team members

Rating: Teen, maybe even general

Warnings: None

Spencer put the car in park as he pulled into the driveway of her house. She usually drove to his apartment when they were going to spend time together, but this time he was going to drive her to Rossi's house. Rossi was planning on cooking dinner that night, and the team was finally going to get to meet her.

He'd asked her if it was okay with her and she'd given him a bright smile. "Of course I want to meet your friends," she'd said. "They're an important part of your life."

He'd warned her about Derek maybe teasing and flirting with her and that she shouldn't take it seriously. He'd back off if it made her uncomfortable at all.

He'd also given her brief descriptions of the rest of his team members so she would know what to expect. She'd been really open to meeting them and he had been relieved even if he did have a few misgivings about bringing her into the fold.

Now here he was walking up to her door and knocking on it. When she opened the door, his breath caught for a few seconds. She was wearing a black shirt, long-sleeved, tight but not provocatively so, and a black-and-white checkered skirt that stopped just above her knees. Her choice of shoes were black flats.

He must've stared too long or taken too long to respond because her face fell a little.

"Is this too much?" she asked, gesturing to her outfit.

"What? No!" He smiled shyly and said, "You just look really . . . beautiful. You look beautiful."

It was her turn to give a shy smile. "Thank you. I – I wasn't sure what to wear, so I decided nice but not fancy."

"Garcia will probably be wearing a skirt, so you're fine."

Spencer watched her close and lock the door and then they walked to his car. He stopped walking when they reached it, and she turned to him, question in her eyes.

"Uh, I don't usually drive girls around."

"Okay. I – I know you prefer walking when you can."

He sighed. "Are you – are you the kind of girl who wants a guy to open the door or are you the kind who would get offended if I open the door for you?"

"That depends. If you opened the door for me, would it be because you're babying me in any way?"

"What? No! I just – I'm old-fashioned, so –"

"Spencer," she cut him off. "I'm teasing you. You can open the car door for me. It's nice. However, I open my own door getting out because I'm too impatient to wait for someone to open it for me."

"Duly noted."

Once they were in the car, it didn't take long for Spencer to get going. He didn't have music playing while he was driving because he didn't want to get distracted, but he didn't mind when she started talking to him.

"Where did you get this car?" she asked. "It's from the 60s, isn't it?"

"Mid-60s, yes. I like the older models better. This is probably the only thing I've ever outright splurged on."

"Well, you said you were old-fashioned." She grew serious after that and said, "Spencer?"

He couldn't look at her because he was driving, but he let her know he was listening.

"There's something you should know before we get to the house."

"Okay."

"Sometimes I have a very short socialization meter. It's worse if I'm in a loud place, which is why I asked for us not to meet at a bar or a club. I can usually do a couple hours at a time and then I kind of start zoning out. I just wanted to warn you because you've never seen me that way before, because it's usually just you and me and I don't feel drained with you at all, but if I'm in groups sometimes I do get that way. I didn't want you to think I'm rude or that I don't like your friends if I suddenly stop talking as much. I'm still there mentally, I just don't contribute as much once my introvert meter is full. How long that takes depends on what kind of day I've had."

It was true that Spencer had never seen her when her 'introvert meter' was full, but he had noticed before that certain things seemed to get to her. She didn't like loud noises, especially if they were sudden. Sometimes her shoulders would draw up towards her ears if a car with a loud motor went by, and don't even get her started on motorcycles or people going by with the bass pumping in their cars.

He'd also noticed that she couldn't stand to be in bright places. She had even told him once that if it was too bright outside, the place behind her eyes would start to hurt and she would get a headache. She loved overcast days because she could go out without sunglasses.

Spencer never told her, but what she kept experiencing was a form of sensory overload. She never got irritated with anyone as some people did when they experienced it, but she did become agitated in her movements. She would start bouncing her knee up and down or she would start picking at her fingernails.

"Sometimes I have bad days too," he admitted quietly. It wasn't really something he liked talking about, but she'd been open with him. He felt he owed it to her to be the same. "With the noise and the lights. I get migraines sometimes. Sometimes the activity around me gets to me too."

He heard her let out a little laugh.

"We chose the wrong professions. We don't like commotion but you became an agent with the FBI and I chose to work at a school and a youth center. We have nothing but commotion."

"To be fair, it's probably because we deal with commotion at work that we don't want it in our lives outside of it."

"I never thought of it that way," she admitted. "Makes sense."

They kept the conversation light for the rest of the way to Rossi's house. He laughed at her expression of awe when he pulled into the driveway.

"The FBI doesn't pay this well," she exclaimed.

"I told you he was an author."

"Not all authors are paid this well either."

"You're not wrong."

They walked up to the front door together. Spencer noticed that his team members cars were already there, so they were the last to arrive, which didn't surprise him at all.

JJ was the one who opened the door when he rang the doorbell. She was all motherly warmth and bright smiles and the woman beside him seemed to take to JJ immediately.

They made their way to the kitchen, where Rossi was already cooking. The spent the first thirty minutes in there talking and getting a feel for each other.

Spencer could tell that she really liked Rossi – he had a warmth about him too, like a grandfather who likes to dote on his grandchildren – and she got along with Emily really well. She didn't seem to know how to take Hotch, which Spencer understood. Hotch could seem aloof to people who didn't know him well. She seemed overwhelmed by how excitable Garcia could get, but she was able to find things in common with her as well. Morgan behaved himself, flirted only slightly, and she seemed okay with that too.

Unlike Garcia and Morgan, the rest of the team hadn't felt the need to look his new friend up, so they were learning about her the normal way – by asking her questions.

Spencer even learned a few new things about her – mostly about her family. He hadn't asked her much about that area of her life because he wasn't really ready to tell her about his yet.

She was really close to her mom, but her grandmother had been her primary caregiver growing up. She'd picked up her love of reading from her grandmother, who had read to her as a child. She wasn't really close to her dad or her brother, but they were still a part of her life.

"Reid says you run a youth center," Morgan said. "Is that hard to do while working full-time at a school?"

"Not really. I have friends who help a lot during school hours, but most of the time it's not busy until after school. I'm mostly in charge of the paperwork part of the place, anyway. Making sure thing run smoothly."

"What kind of things do the kids get to do there?"

"Well, there's a quiet room for the ones who want to do their work or for the ones who need help with school work. There's a game room where they can play video games or pick out a movie, play pool, things like that. There's a small gym, a workout room . . . picnic area outside."

"Okay, even I didn't know it had all that," Spencer admitted.

She shrugged, but he could tell she liked talking about it. "I kind of wanted it to appeal to everyone."

"Ever had any trouble with the kids?" JJ asked.

"Not really. I mean, a few arguments here and there over little things, but nothing major. We have adults in each room, so they're supervised wherever the are. We don't have doors just as a safety precaution, for them and for us. Even though they're my friends and I trust them, there have to be at least two adults present in each room. No one adult is allowed alone with the children at any time."

"Smart," Morgan said.

"I try to be," she quipped. "Then we have the cameras spaced throughout the inside and definitely outside in the play area. With the way things happen today, I really just wanted to take every precaution I could think of."

During dinner, the conversation was more even-sided. She got to learn more about his friends and what she had in common with them. She and Garcia loved animal videos; she was a cat person like Emily; she had a maternal streak to match JJ's. She had less in common with the others.

She still didn't seem to know how to take Hotch, but she had no problem conversing with him. She was even more open with Rossi. Derek kept the teasing light and innocent throughout dinner and she just went along with it, so Spencer assumed it wasn't bothering her. She didn't seem to only be tolerating it, at least.

It wasn't until after dinner when everyone was offered a drink that Spencer found out that she didn't drink alcohol. They'd never really been in a situation where they'd been offered it before, so he'd had no way of knowing until just then.

They were all seated, spaced out around the room, and Spencer smiled when she chose to sit beside him even though she could have chosen a chair to herself.

He got to see what she'd warned him about firsthand when she started to become less responsive after their third hour being there. It was almost time to go anyway, but he noticed her answers were shorter, less enthusiastic. He also noticed that even though she wasn't as talkative she still paid attention to the others. She didn't just withdraw into herself. Maybe she would if she'd had to do this a lot longer, though.

He'd never really touched her before aside from accidental brushes of fingers when they were at the library – he still had to hand her books sometimes – but he reached out to her this time, touched her on the arm to draw her attention to him. He raised his eyebrows in question when she looked at him and she gave him a small smile, moved slightly more into his touch, and then settled back into the cushion behind her.

They apparently didn't have to leave yet.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x ofc

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wiypt-writes · 4 years

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Stark Spangled Banner

Stab Me In The Front

Part 1: America’s Asshole

Intro: It’s been a year since Katie was held hostage by Hydra, and whilst she’s still working through her feelings she has an idea about how she can make other people’s lives better as a result of her ordeal. Alongside this, she needs to take a trip to Boston to meet Harlan Thrombey-SIP’s latest author. Slightly nervous about taking a business trip alone after what happened last time, Steve offers to go with her.

What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: Bad language. SMUT (NSWFW)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: So, here we go. This was a request/idea from @icanfeelastormbrewing for an Avengers/Knives Out Cross Over where Katie and Steve come face to face with America’s Asshole! The tongues are sharp and the knives are out! This is set in 2015 so way before the KO storyline so therefore contains no spoilers!

Oh, @angrybirdcr I bloody love this edit and banner- the edit you have named the Ransom pre- Steve-Rogers-fucked-my-face-after-I-called-his-wife-a-hoe edit...

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

October 2015

“So, Mr Thrombey, that’s all confirmed.” Katie tapped at a key on her computer to lock the meeting in her calendar. “11 am, Next Thursday, the 15th ”

“I’ll send you through the zip code and location for your GPS.” Harlan responded “The house is just outside of Lincoln, not far from Pierce Park. It shouldn’t be too far for you if you’re staying at the Harbor.”

“Thank you.” Katie smiled as she spoke into her phone.“I look forward to meeting you on Thursday Sir.”

“Oh, less of the Sir, Harlan please. And the pleasure is all mine Miss Stark, I mean, Mrs Rogers, my apologies!” The man chuckled. “And thank you for accommodating my need to pull this meeting forward by a few days.”

“It’s not a problem.” She assured him. They exchanged pleasantries again and then she cut the call and leaned back in her chair, cracking her neck, before she double checked the travel arrangements. The hotel was booked, flight was sorted, hire care was confirmed. All that she needed to do was not forget the annotated manuscript or the cover ideas.

The door to her office opened and she looked up to see Tony leaning in the doorway, waving a Starbucks cup at her, along with one of their familiar brown paper bags, clearly bearing treats.

“I love you, bro!” She smiled at him as he wandered in, chuckling, placing the drink and paper bag down in front of her. She looked into the bag and gave a moan when she saw it was a rather large, gooey looking brownie, and gave a bigger moan when she sipped her drink and found it to be a Pumpkin Spiced Latte. “Perfect Elevenses!”

“Well thought you might need one, you’ve been locked in here since seven this morning…”

“You got FRIDAY spying on me?” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“No.” He denied, but at the same time the AI affirmed her suspicions.

“He has indeed had me watch you, Mrs Rogers.” “Traitor.” Tony rolled his eyes and Katie chuckled

“Well I had all this Harlan Thrombey stuff to sort, Steve’s still in Copenhagen with Sam chasing the alleged latest sighing of Bucky.” She shrugged “Not much point in lying in when you’re wide awake is there?”

“True.” Tony nodded. “Are you going back to the Compound tonight?”

“I might just stay here again if that’s ok?”

“Kiddo, you own part of this Tower, it’s always gonna be your home too.” Tony shrugged, “You can stay as long as you want.”

“Thanks Tone.” she smiled. She didn’t want to admit it, but she felt safer in the Tower whilst Steve was away, even thought it was ridiculous as the Compound was just as secure, being closer to her brother was a comfort.

“I haven’t forgotten what tomorrow is.” Tony looked at her.

Neither had she. It was a year to the day since Bucky had pulled her out of that shithole in Canada and rescued her from her ordeal at the hands of HYDRA. With a little sigh, Katie pulled off her glasses, a lasting consequence of her period of capture and torture. Ever since spending six weeks in that constantly lit cell she’d needed glasses for anything that required a long period of concentration on a computer screen or monitor if she wanted to avoid migraines. Bruce seemed to think it was something to do with the fact that her cell had been painfully bright all the time and that continued exposure to artificial light in such a way triggered a subconscious response.

She ran a hand over her face and looked at her brother, swallowing down the sudden spike of emotion, and swallowed.“I’ve been trying not to think about it.” she said gently.

“Which is why I booked you and Pepper into the Dominick for the afternoon.” Tony smiled at her, reaching over to take her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Well, Pepper has, I’ve just given her the credit card. Apparently you’re in for a full deep tissue massage, facial and then Franco’s booked to do your hair, oh and don’t bother telling me you’re busy as I had your diary cleared and everything reschedule to next week” He sat back, watching as she opened her mouth before shutting it, shaking her head softly. “You leave in thirty minutes.”

“You spoil me.” She smiled softly.

“Anything for my girls, plus I thought it might keep you busy whilst Spangles is otherwise engaged.”

“He was hoping to be back but when I spoke to him before he doesn’t know if he’s gonna be.” she shrugged. “It is what it is.” Tony smiled at her before he stood up “Yes, it is. And this afternoon is your pamper time so get your shit together and meet Pepper downstairs.”

“Yes sir.” she said, saluting him with a grin.

****

As with anything Pepper or Tony booked, the spa was off the scale. Katie had been meaning to go for ages, and now, as she sat in the chair in Franco’s salon she was already searching available dates to go back. She laughed and joked with the stylist and Pepper, the pair of them enjoying yet another bottle of champagne as they had their hair done. A couple of hours later, at just gone seven, Pepper dragged her out over the road and into a ridiculously expensive wine bar.

“Feeling better?” Pepper asked as Katie took a huge gulp of her Sancerre.

Katie smiled. “Much, thank you.” “You know, I’m always here if you want to talk to someone other than Steve about stuff.” Pepper looked at her “And it won’t go any further.”

“That’s the thing, I don’t wanna talk about it.” Katie sighed “You know, Pep, I see all these women out there that went through…well, you know, and I read their testimonies and I just wonder how they’re so strong, like, how can they can just stand up and talk about it?” She trailed off, shaking her head “And me? I just wanna pretend it never happened. So much for being an Avenger huh?”

“Hey.” Pepper shook her head, looking at her sternly. “Stop that, right now.” “Well it’s true.” Katie shrugged. “I mean, I’m a public figure right? But all people know is I was missing for weeks, and it was put down to a mission gone awry. I just, well, I feel like I should be out there, trying to make a difference, helping people.”

“Kiddo, what you went through,” Pepper swallowed, “I can’t even begin to imagine. And how you’ve dealt with and processed it, well, frankly I don’t know how you’ve been so strong. There is no shame in wanting to simply move on and leave it in the past.”

“I know.” Katie sniffed a little. “Thank you. Having everyone around me makes me realise how lucky I actually am. I’ve got a huge support network. Not everyone who goes through…well, not everyone has that to fall back on.” Pepper pondered something before she looked at Katie, “You know, we haven’t picked our Partner Charity for the Stark Relief Fund next year. We could make it one that deals with Sexual violence. No need to go into details as to why.” Katie considered that for a moment, before she nodded. “That’s not a bad idea.” She clicked her deep purple manicured nails against her wine glass, thoughtfully. “It would make a difference, right?”

Pepper nodded. “Absolutely. Give it some thought, see how you feel.” “I will, thanks.” she smiled.

****

Steve was exhausted but wasn’t willing to spend another moment away from his wife. So the moment the jet was down he headed straight for the garage, jumped on his bike and roared out of the compound heading down town towards Manhattan.

“Good Evening Captain Rogers.” FRIDAY greeted him as he pressed his palm to the access pad at the rear entrance from the underground car park “Mrs Rogers is in your apartment.”

“Thanks FRIDAY.” he said, as the elevator began to rise. It stopped a few floors up, and when the doors flew open he was greeted by Tony who was undoing his tie.

“Oh, you’re back.” He looked at Steve appraisingly.

“You’re up late.” Steve remarked in response.

“Just working on a few things.” Tony said vaguely. “How was the search for Tin Man?” “Well, it was him alright.” Steve ran a hand down his tired face. “Few more leads to work on. We could have stayed out there for a bit longer truth be told but, well, I wanted to be here tomorrow, you know.”

The two men shared a moment of understanding, both of them having experienced unsurmountable raw pain and anguish over the weeks Katie had been missing and it wasn’t something they were likely to forget any time soon. If ever.

“She know you’re home?” Tony looked at him again. Steve shook his head.

“Wanted to surprise her.”

Tony smiled softly. “She’s probably asleep. Her and Pep have been in the Spa all afternoon and they’ve drunk a lot so…”

Steve gave a huff of a laugh. “Yeah she messaged me before saying you’d sent her there out for the afternoon. From the spelling mistakes in the text I figured there was a fair amount of alcohol that had been consumed.” He paused and smiled. “That was really thoughtful of you, Tony.” “Well it happens occasionally.” Tony sniffed as the elevator stopped at his floor. “Listen, Steve…” Steve turned to face him. “She’s not been herself the last few weeks.” Tony scratched at his beard and Steve took a deep breath.

“I know.” he said gently “I think she’s just, well, processing, if that’s the right word. We only got back from our honeymoon three weeks ago, and it kinda hit her when we got back just what time of year it was. Whilst we were away she didn’t have time to think about it.”

“Just, well, take care of her for me okay?” Tony looked at the Soldier and Steve nodded.

“Always Tony, you had my word on that when I told you I wanted to marry her, and I meant it.”

Tony nodded and clapped him on the shoulder, giving him a look of thanks before he left the elevator on the Part Floor level. It began to rise again and Steve let out a soft sigh. Tony was right, the last two weeks in particular Katie had been a little quiet, less vivacious, almost withdrawn even. At first he had put it down to post honeymoon blues, but Natasha had pointed out that this time twelve months ago she had been at the mercy of HYDRA, with those bastards brutalising her in ways that he couldn’t even bring himself to think about. For this reason, he’d been reticent to go on the latest mission but Katie had insisted, pointing out that they couldn’t not carry on with their lives and that she would be alright.

The fact she had basically moved back into the Tower for the three days he had been gone, however, made him think that she wasn’t quite as alright as she had told him.

The doors opened on their floor and he stepped out. It was mostly dark as he headed through to the bedroom where he found that the TV was playing on the wall, but Katie was fast asleep, one of the pillows clutched to her chest as a makeshift cuddle partner. With a soft smile he closed the door and headed over to the bed. Kicking off his boots he lay on his side, facing her, and brushed her soft hair back off her face before pressing a kiss to the bridge then tip of her nose and finally her lips.

She stirred, her face scrunching up in that adorable way it always did, before she blinked her eyes open. It took her a second to focus but when she did her lips curled upwards into a soft smile which became an ear to ear grin.

“Hey, Sweetheart.” He said softly, kissing her again, his hand cupping her face.

“You’re home.” She reached up to lay her hand over his. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?”

“Wanted to surprise you.”

“Well it worked.”

“I missed you.” He whispered, his thumb caressing her cheekbone as he leaned in for another kiss.

“Missed you more.” She shot back, her lips brushing his and he chuckled.

“Doubt it. How was the Spa?”

“Oh it was amazing.” She gushed, her eyes shining. “I had this deep tissue massage and the guy hit spots on my back I didn’t even know I had. The facial was great, and my hair…”

“I like the colour.” He smiled, gently moving his hand so he twirled a piece around his finger. The ends were slightly lighter than usual, almost a dark honey blonde, and it extended a little up the strands before evening out.

“It’s called ballayage.” She smiled at him. “I just fancied a bit of a change.”

“Looks good on you. And I’m glad you had a nice time, you deserve it.”

“How was the mission? Worth it?”

“Yes and no.” Steve shrugged. “We have a few more leads we can chase up but…” he took a deep breath “I’m beginning to wonder what the point is. He clearly doesn’t wanna be found.”

“The point is he’s your friend, your brother.” Katie moved her hand to run her fingers over his jawline, the pads scratchings lightly against his five-oclock shadow. “Maybe he just needs a bit of time to find himself first, that doesn’t mean you have to give up on him. Besides, I need to give him back his jacket.”

“And I need to thank him. For getting my beautiful girl out and safe.”

“I can’t believe it’s been a year tomorrow since he found me.” She said softly

“Is that what’s been bothering you?”

“Huh?”

“The last few weeks you’ve not been yourself.”

She licked her lips and nodded “Yeah, I just, well, I didn’t give it much thought when we were on our honeymoon, you know, but since coming back and ramping up the Thrombey Campaign it’s kinda hit home a little.” And suddenly Steve understood. SIP were publishing the man’s latest book, “The Colour of Revenge” which was all about a Detective on the trail of a killer who was hunting down and dispatching of six men who had been acquitted of a gang rape and murder.

“Shit.” He let out a groan at the fact he hadn’t made the connection. “Honey, I’m so stupid not to realise that.” “Hey.” She frowned, “Don’t…” She reached up and smoothed the lines that had appeared on his brow and he let out a sigh, gently reaching up to lace his fingers with hers, bringing her hand towards him and placing a soft kiss on her wrist. “It’s better now you’re home.” She assured him gently.

He smiled and gave her a gentle kiss again.

“Is that everything?” He pressed and she hesitated again.

“I’m scared.” She admitted eventually, looking at him.

“Scared of what?”

“Going away, on my own.” The tears welled in her eyes. “I hate that they made me like this, Steve.”

He let out a sigh, he hated that she was scared too. She didn’t deserve it.

“Why don’t I come with you?” He asked, the idea suddenly forming in his mind. Katie stilled for a moment and he continued. “Not to the actual meeting, but I can drop you off and pick you up, hang around, whatever you want me to do.”

She looked up at him smiling softly, not even trying to pretend she wasn’t relieved he had offered. “Would you?”

“Of course.” He nodded, wiping the tears off her face. “You only had to ask.” “I didn’t want to. I know how busy you are here and…” “That can wait.” He held her face in his hands as he drove his message home. “You’re the most important thing in my life and if me coming with you makes you feel better then…” He shrugged “Besides, I’ve always wanted to go to Boston.”

“I know we haven’t been back from our honeymoon long, but maybe we can make a little trip out of it if you like?” Her face was suddenly hopefully “Come back on the Saturday?”

“Sure.” Steve smiled at her. “Let’s do it.”

“Oh, Stevie you’re gonna love it.” she beamed, and he smiled at the way her face had gone from being furrowed with worry to alive with excitement. “Massachusetts is amazing in the fall and Boston is just stunning…” “Well I’ll make sure I bring my sketch book.” He smiled “Give me something to do whilst you’re in the meeting.” “Thank you.” She said softly. “I’ll book us somewhere nice to eat one night. Give us an excuse to wear something pretty.”

“Like you need an excuse.” He teased, and she nipped him harshly on the arm. He chuckled and then with a groan he unwillingly pushed himself up off the bed.

“I need a shower.” He said, almost apologetically. “I won’t be long.”

“You better not be.” She muttered and he smiled, dropping a kiss to her forehead before he headed into the bathroom.

True to his word, he wasn’t long. Five minutes, tops. But by the time he came back, the TV was off and Katie was fast asleep. Thinking back to what Tony had said, he found himself wondering if she had actually slept much at all whilst he was gone.

Steve dried himself off, stepped into a clean pair of boxers and then slid into the bed next to his wife, slipping his arms around her. Once her back was nestled snugly into his chest, he dropped a soft kiss to her neck and closed his eyes, happy to have her in his arms.

****

Steve woke the next morning to find his girl tangled around him. She’d shifted in the night, clearly, and now her face was pressed into his chest, right leg snaked between both of his, her right hand was slid under his arm, lightly gripping his shoulder whilst her left rested against her head, fingers in her hair. Smiling to himself he pulled her closer, relishing the feel of her against him. She murmured something incoherently as she gently moved, her cheek pressing into the hair on his chest, the hand around his shoulder slid down to the base of his back where her fingers simply rested, soft against his spine as she continued to sleep.

And Steve was quite happy to let her nap for longer, using him as her own personal cuddly toy.

He dozed in and out of consciousness again, drifting off for another ten minutes or so, before he felt Katie stirring in his arms, and a soft kiss gently being pressed to his jaw line. He smiled at the contact and tightened his hold on her again, his eyes still closed.

“Morning, Beautiful.” He said softly, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Morning, Soldier.” She said, her cheek returning to his chest as she basked in the safety and warmth of his hold as his hand crept up the back of the stolen shirt she was wearing, his rough fingers ever so gentle against her skin as he trailed the pads up and down her spine.

“Sleep okay?” He asked, his eyes still not opening.

“Yeah.” She assured him, truthfully. It had been the best night sleep she’d had in days.

“Good. What do you fancy doing today?”

He felt her still and then she pulled back slightly, and at that he opened his eyes and blinked to see those gorgeous emeralds locked onto him.

“Are you not needed at the Compound?”

He shook his head “Kitten, I’ve not seen you for almost three days so I figured we deserved one together.”

She groaned “I have meetings this morning.” “That’s okay, I’ll meet you at lunch.” He said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

She didn’t argue. She knew full well why he’d taken the time out, and frankly she adored him for it. Without saying a word she leaned up and captured his lips in a gentle kiss that quickly became heated, but was shattered by the piercing noise of Katie’s alarm.

She gave a groan, and made to move.

“Don’t you dare.” Steve mumbled against her mouth, his grip on her tightening.

“Stevie,” She sighed “I gotta…”

He reached over, his large body flattening her into the mattress making her giggle as he swiped across the screen of her StarkPhone silencing it.

“You ain’t gotta do shit.” He said, hovering over her on his elbows. “Except me.” He added as an afterthought.

“Oh so you’re gonna to explain to the board why I’m late?”

“Well, to be honest,” he said, dipping his head to trail hot kisses up the side of the next, “they probably won’t even notice you’re not there. I mean, are you really that important?”

“Fuck you.” She giggled back.

“Believe me, I’m tryin’” he quipped, his mouth nipping at her ear lobe. That made her giggle even more and she felt his lips curve into a smile against her skin.

“I love it when you do that.” He whispered gently, using his leg to part hers, leaving a large thigh pressed against her mound.

“What?”

“Laugh.” His mouth moved up her jaw line. “It makes me happy.”

“You’re such a sentimental sap.” She mumbled, as his lips claimed hers again, the heat between her legs intensifying as the kiss grew deeper, tongues lashing against one another. Steve pulled back for long enough to pull his shirt over her head before his lips returned to hers and Katie’s hand slid into his hair, one hand gently winding into the longer locks on top, her nails on the other dragging against the hairline on his neck. His hands moved, one gently cupping the side of her face, the other, gently skimming over her breast, her nipples already hardened. He gently teased one with the pad of his thumb and his mouth moved down to the other, his tongue and fingers working in tandem. She gave a little involuntary twitch against his thigh and once more his lips quirked up into a smirk.

“You want something, Baby girl?” He asked, peeking up at her and she nodded.

“Stevie, don’t make me beg, please.”

And when she asked so nicely like that, how could he ever refuse? He hooked his fingers into the sleep shorts she was wearing and worked them down, before flipping down the waist band of his boxers. Katie bent her legs as he shuffled upwards and worked into her, the pair of them letting out a groan each at the stretch as he buried himself to the hilt. Steve’s hands fell to either side of Katie’s face as he held himself up on his forearms, kissing her deeply as he flexed his hips forward, again and again, picking up a gentle rhythm.

It was soft, it was gentle, it was loving, everything she knew her soldier to be and it wasn’t long before he had her writhing and groaning loudly, his lips assaulting that spot on her neck.

“So good,” he groaned, his thrusts getting deeper. “Feel so good, Sweetheart.”

“Keep talking.” She keened, arching into him as her hands raked down his back.

“You were made for me, God I love you Mrs Rogers. So fucking much.” His words were punctuated by his heavy breaths as she gave a soft cry, her head falling backwards, eyes fluttering shut as she tightened around him, her legs shuddering slightly as she came.

“Atta girl.” He panted, his hips becoming faster as he thrust through her orgasm, chasing his own. It wasn’t long before he felt the ribbons in his belly unravel and he came with a cry of his own, his head buried in her neck, hips slowing, thrusts going deeper before he eventually stilled, a loud contented sigh escaping his mouth.

After a few moments of them simply basking in the afterglow, Katie’s hands trailing through Steve’s ruffled hair as his nose slid against hers, she gave a sigh and pushed on his shoulders gently.

“Soldier, I really do need to get up.”

He pouted a little causing her to chuckle before he rolled off her and she pushed herself out of bed, heading for the en-suite. Steve watched her go before he swung his legs from under the covers,, found his boxers, pulled them on and headed down to the kitchen to make them both some coffee. *****

The idea had sprung to Katie as she’d headed out for lunch. The local shop was donating a percentage of its earnings that month to a homeless charity, and it set her mind whirring.

“So you want to donate, all the profit we make, from what is going to likely be the biggest book SIP will ever publish, to charity?” Tony looked at her.

“In a nutshell, yeah.” She nodded. “We can split it across various charities, all those that help victims of sexual assault, abuse or crime…”

“Isn’t that what the Stark Relief Fund is for?” Saul, the SI Finance Director looked at her and she turned to face him.

“Yes, but it isn’t just about the money, it’s about raising awareness.” She pressed “A lot of people don’t know those charities existed. Hell, I didn’t know about half of them until a year ago. If we do this, think of the publicity and the press and…”

She trailed off, looking at Tony. He could see the excitement shining in her eyes. She had a point, and it wasn’t like SI needed the money. SIP was her company after all, and if she wanted to use it to do something good, help people, maybe even help herself…then that was fine by him.

He shrugged and looked round the table “SIP’s vision was never about making money.” Katie beamed at her brother as she realised he was backing her “It was always about helping those who needed a hand to get their work out there…I don’t see why in this case, where they author is already so well-known we can’t use that to help those who need it.”

There was a pause and she looked expectantly round the table. One by one the board members seemed to concede, all of them that is bar their Legal Manager, Dan Robertson who was frowning.

“You’re going to have to bring Mr Thrombey on board Mrs Rogers.” He looked at her. “We can’t just use his book as part of a campaign without his permission.” “I know.” She assured him. “I’ve already realised that. I’m meeting him on Thursday next week, I’ll have a full proposal and pitch ready.”

There were a few murmurs around the table before Tony spoke. “Is that it? Are we settled?”

Everyone looked at one another, nodding, and Katie leaned back in her chair, smiling.

But, she wasn’t smiling now. She had less than twenty-four hours before they set off for Boston and her pitch was only half way through completion.

“Sweetheart.” Steve’s hands slid over her shoulders where she sat on the chair in her office. She looked effortlessly elegant, even in sweats and an off the shoulder sweater, one toned leg stretched out in front of her, the other bent at the knee so her foot was resting on the seat of the chair, her left hand was curled around her shin, her right was tapping at her keyboard, the dark blue framed glasses perched on her nose. “It’s late.”

“I know but,” she sighed, “this means a lot to me Steve. I need it to be right.”

Steve knew better than to argue. Instead he leaned over and kissed the side of her neck. “What are you stuck with?”

“I dunno it just…it all seems so impersonal.” She removed her glasses and wrinkled her nose as he sat down in the arm chair in the corner of the room “Facts and figures on sexual assaults and stuff, we all know it happens, it’s about making people want to do something about it.”

“Are you ready to make it personal?” He asked gently, taking a deep breath. He hated thinking about what she had gone through, he truly did, and if he had half a chance he’d rip the bastards limb from limb. But if she was ready to confront what had happened to her, he had to be there to support and back her all of the way, regardless of his own feelings.

“I don’t know. I was talking to Pepper about this the other day. I should be able to, I should be someone other women can look up to, being an Avenger and all but…maybe I’m just not strong enough.” “You’re the strongest person I know.” Steve leaned forward and locked eyes with her.

“I don’t feel like it when it comes to this.”

“Honey,” he scratched at his head. “Without wanting to sound flippant, since January this year, you’ve been, okay, well maybe okay isn’t the word but you’ve gotten on with things. You’ve moved forward, we both did.”

“Because we were busy, and we had no choice…”

“Well maybe,” he shrugged. “But chasing down a sceptre, fighting Ultron, mobilising a new base, planning a wedding, running a business…it’s all time consuming, stressful stuff that if you really weren’t strong enough to deal with what happened, then it would have all gone to shit and probably tipped you over the edge into a nervous breakdown.”

She brushed a piece of hair behind her ear as she considered what he was saying.

“Honestly…” he continued, his eyes boring into hers. “If you want my opinion I think the fact that it’s the year’s anniversary of what happened that’s playing on your mind a little. You need to stop, look back and how well you’ve done and stop beating yourself up about all the things you haven’t”

She smiled softly and looked down at her hands before she glanced back up at him “When did you get so wise?” He chuckled “Well I am ninety seven years old.”

She laughed “You don’t look a day over twenty five.”

Steve smiled and stood up. “I’m gonna make you a hot chocolate, and you’re gonna stop overthinking everything and come relax. We’re up early tomorrow. You can do the rest at the hotel tomorrow evening.” “No can do, we’re going out.” Katie grinned at him “I booked the Chef’s table at Menton.”

“The what?” Steve frowned.

“You never heard of a Chef’s table?” She looked at him, and he shook his head. “Oh my God I’ve let you down, so badly. Check this out.” she tapped on her computer, bringing up the website and showed him the photos “It’s a private table with a glass wall that gives you a direct view into the kitchen. Totally impossible to get a reservation unless you book like a year in advance. Or name drop.”

Steve groaned. “You seriously dropped the Captain America wants a table line?”

“No, I dropped the Captain America’s wife want a table line.” She smirked, closing down the browser page.

“Pain in my ass.” Steve grumbled, standing up. But as he left the office there was a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

One that his wife had seen.

*****

“So, was it worth a name drop?” Katie asked as they walked back into the Fireside Lounge located in their hotel.

“I’m happy to overlook the fact you acted like a total brat to make that reservation, yes.” Steve grinned as he went to remove her coat from her shoulders. He looked her up and down, the tight black jump suit she was in was driving him crazy.

She grinned, and then shivered slightly.

“Cold?” He asked, frowning.

“A little, don’t wanna sit in my coat though.”

“Do you want me to nip up to the room, grab your cardigan?”

“Would you?” She asked, even though she knew perfectly well he would.

“Course.” He dropped a kiss to her cheek “You get the drinks in, be right back.”

She headed over to the bar. The bartender, Will, was the same one who had been on before so he greeted her with a smile.

“Mrs Rogers. How was your meal?”

“Fantastic thank you.” She smiled. “Can I get two Bourbon’s please? I’ll leave it to your choice, I’ll be back in a second, just need to nip to the bathroom.”

She excused herself and once she’d finally had the pee she’d been dying for since they left the restaurant, she set about touching up her make-up, smiling to herself. She’d deliberately picked this jumpsuit as she knew it got Steve’s blood pumping. It was a simple, plain black one with a V-neck line, but it was tight. Teamed with a thin red patent leather belt, matching Jimmy-Choos and purse all set off by the bright red lipstick she was sporting, she knew she looked good. Not that Steve had much room to talk, she could happily perve on him in the dark pants he was wearing, teamed with a tweed blazer and that damned blue shirt, his collar left open. Frankly, he looked good enough to eat, which she was planning on doing later.

She headed back into the bar and spotted Steve perched on one of the stools, blinking as she saw he’d changed into a simple brown, long sleeved tee, but then again he always did like to get out of his dress shirts as soon as they got home usually, so she wasn’t that surprised.

“Hey, Handsome. You changed.” She slipped her arms round him from the back. He felt different, he was softer than Steve was. He smelt different, there was a really heavy woody scent to his aftershave whereas Steve’s preferred Hugo Boss was a lot lighter and she realised with horror that Steve hadn’t changed his outfit at all.

This wasn’t Steve.

When the man spun to face her, Katie had to do a double take as the likeness was indeed uncanny at first glance, but as she blinked and looked at him she noticed subtle differences. His eyes were cold and calculating, his jaw line wasn’t quite as sharp as Steve’s and the smirk he wore on his face was nothing like the cheeky one Steve would sport. It was almost a sneer which spread across his face, every feature laced with disdain.

“What the fuck?” The man glared at her as Katie stepped back, holding her hands up in apology.

“I’m sorry, genuine case of mistaken identity,” she said, taking him in. His shirt was the wrong colour too, only she hadn’t been able to see that from the back.

“Yeah well if you’re touting for business I already got some today so get lost.” The man drawled in his light, Boston accent. “Like I just said I thought you were…hang on…” Katie frowned as his words registered “You already got some?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” He looked her up and down, arching a brow.

“You think I’m a hooker?” Katie snorted.

“Pretty high end one though, I’ll give you that.” The man’s voice was now amused, as he nodded towards her chest.

“I’m not a hooker.” Katie shook her head, laughing in disbelief.

“Oh, sorry. Do you prefer the term escort?”

She rolled her eyes, flashing her left hand at him. “I’m married, this was a genuine mistake….”

She moved away from him to the side, nodding at Will who slid the check over for her to sign to charge the drinks to their room.

Ransom observed her for a moment, fighting the smirk that was threatening to break across his face. After another row with his stupid Libtard cousin and his mother who had been at his Grandfather’s house before, he’d come out with the sole intention of getting laid and then so drunk he could hardly remember his name. After a visit to one of his usual fuck pieces, he’d achieved the first part, now he was concentrating on the second. He’d been initially irritated by this woman’s interruption, but now she was getting sassy back, and he wasn’t about to let it drop. He could tell she had money,that much was clear to see. The way she talked, held herself, was dressed. Whilst she wasn’t a hooker as he had originally thought (although to be fair to her, she was pretty hot, he’d consider fucking her if the opportunity arose), she was probably living off some seventy odd year old rich banker husband. Huh, maybe she wanted a fuck after all…frustrated little trophy wife.

“So, tell me. Does your husband know you’re here trying to tap me up?” He looked at her.

“You know, if I was trying to errr…tap you up, you wouldn’t be able to afford me” She shot back, signing her name on the cheque with a flourish.

“Try me.” Ransom smirked, making a show of looking her up and down. “How much for that ass?” “I’ll kick yours for free you self-entitled dick.” She glared at him before she slid the signed paper and pen back to the bartender.

Ransom gave a bark of a laugh “I’ll pass thanks.”

Katie snorted and glanced sideways at look at him, scarlet red lips pursed as she eyed him over her glass of bourbon. “Good decision, because I’ve dropped bigger men than you for fun.” “Sure you have, Dollface” Ransom quirked an eyebrow, elbow leaning on the bar, angling his body towards her. She kept hers facing forwards, arms resting on the bar top, her head shaking slightly.

“You have no fucking idea who I am do you?” Katie shook her head, not looking at the prick stood next to her. She hated using that line, but, well, when the occasion arose to get one over on a weasely little shit like this, she wasn’t going to pass it up.

“Why should I?” He snorted “I don’t know all the little bitches in Boston.”

Katie felt her mouth drop open and she was about to retaliate when Steve gently appeared by her side, dropping her cardigan over her shoulders.

Ransom recognised him straight away. He’d had it quite often, been told he looked similar to Captain America. So this meant the woman he’d been baiting for the last five minutes was his wife, Katie Rogers, sister of Billionaire Tony Stark, the Avenger, Supernova.

He’d called Supernova a hooker.

Ransom looked into his glass of scotch, turning away back to the bar, snorting with laughter.

“Sorry baby, Sam called and…” Steve stopped, frowning at the look on Katie’s face. “You okay?”

“Fine.” She looked up at him, smiling and nodding towards a cosy sofa over at the other side of the bar. “You wanna go sit down over there?”

“Sure.” He nodded, picking up his glass of bourbon, he held out his free hand for her and she jumped down off the stool.

“I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure.” She snarked to the man next to her “But I don’t lie so…”

Steve frowned, wondering what had gone down whilst he’d been away. He glanced at his wife and then turned to look at the guy that was sat on the stool next to where Katie had been to see if he recognised him and did a double take. He recognised him alright, but only because he looked incredibly like him. Granted, there were a few subtle differences, but the resemblance was uncanny, to the point that at a first glance in the street, you could be fooled.

“Pal, you should keep that bitch on a leash.” Ransom spoke, his eyebrows raising and in front of him Steve stiffened.

“What did you just say?” He frowned, pulling himself up to full height.

“Seriously, man. You save the world from Nazi’s, get frozen for seventy years and then end up marrying that.” Ransom smirked, enjoying baiting the Captain “I’d ask ‘em to put you back under…”

Steve’s nostrils flared and he felt his neck getting warmer. “Don’t you dare talk about my wife like that.”

“Steve, leave it, come on.” Katie gently placed her palm on Steve’s chest. “The guy’s a complete ass hole. If brains were dynamite I doubt he’d have enough to blow his head off.”

“Well if we’re talking about blowing,” Ransom looked Katie up and down before locking onto her eyes. “You up for the job?

Katie let out a bark of a laugh, her hand still on Steve’s chest which was positively humming with anger as she turned to face Ransom, contempt etched across every single inch of her face.

“Go jerk yourself off and wipe it on a curtain like your father should have done with you.”

“I’d rather wipe it in your hair.” came the quip back.

And that was it. That was the point that Steve Rogers snapped.

There was a loud smash, the glass he was holding shattered in his grip as his fist contracted in pure anger. Katie barely had time to realise what had happened before he had stepped forward and grabbed Ransom by the front of his shirt, lifting him with ease, slamming him on the bar.

“Steve!” Katie pulled on his arm. “Baby, he really isn’t worth it, let go!”

“Captain Rogers!” Will behind the bar was desperately trying to talk him down as well “Please, don’t make me call security.”

Security! Steve wanted to snort. Like that would do any good.

“Soldier, come on.” Katie tried again, pleading to his reasonable side. “Look, we’ve had such a nice night. Don’t let him ruin it.”

Steve let out a deep breath, he wanted nothing more than to knock the asshole’s teeth down his throat, but he felt Katie’s touch on his arm and her pleading tone and he let go, shoving the man hard.

“I would tell you to apologise.” Steve snarled stepping back. His voice was steely, eyes carrying none of their usual warmth.“But I suspect it’s pointless”

“Yup.” Ransom nodded “Totally pointless.”

“Like your existence.” Katie mumbled, Ransom snorting in response. “Look, Drysdale, my manager’s told you before.” Will said, his voice laced with vexation as he shuffled from behind the bar to sweep up the glass that Steve had shattered. “Any more trouble and you’re gonna be banned.”

Ransom’s nostrils flashed angrily as he looked at the man “’I’m gonna be banned? Eat shit! He’s the one that just attacked me! He ripped my shirt!” he gestured down to where Steve had grabbed him, two tears either side of the buttons of his shirt “This is a Fendi!”

“Ransom, just shut up and apologise.” Will pressed again. “Or you’re gonna have to leave.”

“Fuck this, I was going anyway.” Ransom snarled, knocking back his drink. He stood up and pulled on a long, tan coloured camel coat before he glared at Steve then Katie “Really bad smell in here.”

Katie rolled her eyes, deciding to let him have that childish one without any fuss. But Steve didn’t.

“Close the door on your way out.” He watched as the man stopped, took a deep breath before angrily flinging the door open, his coat flapping behind him. There was a moment’s pause before it slammed shut.

“Sorry.” Steve turned, apologising to Will.

“He’s a dirt bag and a cretin.” Will shrugged, as he waved the apology off. “No redeeming features whatsoever. Well, none that I’ve seen and trust me, I’ve seen him a hell of a lot.”

“Is your hand okay?” Katie asked Steve gently. She turned his right hand over to see that there were no cuts at all from the glass, which was good.

“Yeah, fine, don’t worry.” Steve looked at her, frowning. “Honey, what on Earth just happened?” He asked her softly, as she took a deep breath, blowing it out of her mouth.

“I went to the bathroom and when I came back, well, I thought he was you from behind so gave him a hug.” She shook her head “Soon as I touched him I realised I was very, very wrong. I tried to apologise and he called me a hooker.”

“A hooker?” Steve repeated, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah, so I told him even if I was he wouldn’t be able to afford me.”

At that Will, who had been busy pouring them both another drink, laughed as he slid two short tumblers of bourbon back over to them. “He won’t have liked that at all.”

Steve nodded his thanks to the man as Katie looked at him. “How come?” She asked.

“Well, simply put, his family one way or another are loaded, and Ransom likes to be the flash bastard if you get what I mean.”

“What do his family do?” Katie asked, “I’ve never even heard of the Drysdales.”

“His mother and father run a real Estate Company.” Will shrugged, “A local one round Massachusetts, but you’ll have heard of his grandfather, or if you haven’t you’ve been living under a rock for the last twenty years.” “Who?” she asked.

“Harlan Thrombey, the crime fiction author.” Will replied, and Katie felt the colour drain from her face. She turned to look at Steve whose eyes had also widened, and she gave a groan.

“Shit.”

**** Part 2

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #Katie Stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #ransom drysdale #mcu #mcu fanfic #avengers #marvel #marvel fanfic

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johannstutt413 · 4 years

Text

(requested by coldgoldlazarus)

“Hey, Rope, question.” Vanilla approached the Cautus while they were both working the northern trading post. “Did you grab a bottle of pills from my pocket earlier?”

“Maybe? Hang on...No, I’ve just got mine in my pocket.” She gave the Vouivre a thumbs-up after patting herself down.

The Vanguard reached into her bag and pulled out a prescription bottle. “You might want to check the label, because these aren’t Biggie’s stomach meds.”

“They aren’t?” She read the label on her bottle. “Oh, okay, so those are my- Oh! Oh, no...”

“It’s fine - I’m just glad we checked before you had to get your stomach pumped, and Biggie melted through his home again. Honestly, it’s really impressive you took them in the first place and remembered to give them back. I remember the last time you accidentally took my wallet and I had to ask Liz to cover lunch for me.”

Rope sighed. “Yeah, that’s good, it’s just...I didn’t want anyone to know, you know? Being infected is one thing, but if people knew, they might look at me differently.”

“...If they knew what?” The Vouivre cocked her head. “I think I’m missing something.”

“Wait, so you didn’t read the bottle?”

Vanilla was steadily getting more confused. “No, I read it, but I don’t know what it is. What do you take Aldactone for? It’s not a migraine medication, is it?”

“No, it definitely isn’t that.” She couldn’t help but chuckle a little at that; she’d forgotten who she was talking to. Telling her couldn’t hurt at this point. “It’s part of my hormone therapy so I can, uh...be the me on the outside I am on the inside, if that makes sense?”

“Not really?” The Vouivre was quick to admit.

To be fair, the Cautus never knew how to answer questions like this. “I’m a woman, but my body doesn’t match - or at least, it didn’t until I met Aak.”

“Oh!” A few puzzle pieces clicked together in her mind. “Now I get it.”

“Good, cuz I don’t know if I could find another way to explain it,” she sighed, relieved.

That didn’t mean that was her last question, though. “Do you not like talking about it?”

“No, I don’t.” For exactly this reason, honestly. “People start asking me all kinds of questions about it, and I just wanna be me, you know? That’s the whole reason I have to worry about the pills and stuff.”

“Right, sorry. I, uh, won’t ask anything else.”

Rope looked at her for a moment before sighing again. “You have a lot of questions, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Vanilla visibly relaxed. “I don’t want to bother you, though.”

“...Tell you what: buy me dinner, and I’ll answer a couple questions, whatever you’ve got. Sound good?”

That did perk the Vouivre’s interest, and, somewhat unexpectedly, a bit of a blush, too. “I’d like that, yeah. Tonight or...”

“Sure, if you don’t have plans.” That was a very enthusiastic no, apparently. “Cool. Well, I’m gonna take a break, so talk to you later!”

“Uh-huh!” Once she’d left, Vanilla let herself start breathing rapidly before pulling out her phone to text Franka. She had a favor she needed to ask.

--------------------

About an hour after dinner service opened in the cafeteria, Rope got a message from Vanilla saying she was on her way; that’d given the Cautus enough time to pick out something to wear - something without pockets, to keep herself from stealing as much stuff as she might with places to put it - and psyche herself up for a kind of awkward conversation with someone she worked with and hung out with at a couple of parties but didn’t talk to all that much otherwise. Still, that put her in the Top Ten on her “friends and associates” list, since Rope didn’t really talk a lot, period, and she was so innocent and soft...Would’ve been a good mark back in the day, honestly. Course, if she tried anything serious these days, Dobermann would chew her head off, and who knows what Blacksteel would do to her…

Ding-dong! That was her cue. The Cautus gave herself one last once-over and opened the door. “Evening, Va...Vanilla.” Holy shit, she cleaned up well.

“Good evening.” The Vouivre looked more than a little out of her element, admittedly, but that just added to the charm. “I, uh, already got us a table at a place, if that’s alright?”

“Hey, I came in from off the streets; anything’s good enough for me.” True, she did have a couple preferences, but since her...since Vanilla was paying, it wasn’t going to be an issue. What was this, exactly? And wait, didn’t this imply she’d make reservations somewhere? Like people did on dates in movies or whatever?

Doing her best not to jump to conclusions, Rope walked with Vanilla to a nice-looking Siracusan place not too far from her apartment. “This place looks nice, but you didn’t have to spoil me.”

“I know, but uh...I wanted to.” Since there was no way in hell she could be nonchalant about this, she was just going to be as genuine as possible. “We’re at a corner booth, and they aren’t too busy tonight, so we won’t have people listening in on us.”

“Well, well, I didn’t expect you to think of that. Sorry, that sounded meaner than I meant it to be.”

The Vouivre shrugged. “It’s fine - I know people don’t expect it from me. Um, are we drinking tonight, do you think?”

“It’s your money, not mine,” the Cautus replied, “but it’ll probably help if I have a lil’ wine.”

“That works. Excuse me, reservation for 2 for Vanilla?” And with that, their dinner date began.

Once they’d been seated, given a bottle of wine to start with, and ordered their meals, Rope took the lead. “So, you’ve got at least a couple questions for me, right? Wanna make this worth the cash you’re spending on me, after all.”

“How did you know?” That was the most interesting question to her. “Your body says one thing, your heart says another, how do you know which one’s right?”

“I mean, you don’t eat the wrapper, you eat the candy, right? Took some time to figure out why I felt so uncomfortable just, well, being, but as soon as I did, I knew what I wanted to do. Problem is, it’s kinda expensive to get the medications and the surgery and stuff, so for someone stealing just to eat every day, there wasn’t a lot I could do. Then I met Aak, and he helped me out a lot before I got locked up - he’s actually the one who gets me my prescriptions here, too - but I lost some progress since they wouldn’t let me take my meds in prison. The Doctor got me out of there, though, and now I have all the support I need. Sorry, that was more than you asked for.”

Vanilla smiled. “That’s alright; I wanted to ask about all of it. You know, I really had no idea. I mean, even up close, you’re so pretty, I’d never have guessed...”

“Thanks, I think.” Something about that smile raised a question in the Cautus’ mind, so she decided to try and confirm her suspicions. “Where’d you buy that dress, by the way? It looks really good on you.”

“Oh, thank you! Croissant’s resale shop, they might not have another one, but she sells a lot of good stuff for reasonable prices.” It helped that she had a concrete answer, but there was no hiding how happy the Vouivre was to receive that compliment.

Which gave Rope the confidence she needed to say, “It looks like it’s pretty easy to take off, too.”

“Yeah, it’s only got the one strap that...” Vanilla realized what’d happened when the Cautus started giggling. “I was going to ask for help with that later, but I guess you beat me to the punch.”

“If I ever had doubts I was a woman, I definitely don’t right now.”

Now the Vouivre was bright red. “Am I really that obvious?”

“You don’t wear a sign or anything,” Rope replied, still smiling genuinely, “but the way you’ve been looking at me tonight was enough.”

“Yeah, I guess I, um, have been staring...Does this count as a date?”

Rope nodded, having thought she’d regained her composure but finding more giggles to release. “It does now. Oh, man. This was the idea from the beginning, right?”

“I was going to ask you out when I went to give you your meds back,” Vanilla admitted, “so when you asked me to take you out, it was kind of perfect.”

“Wow. I played right into your hands, huh?” The Cautus hadn’t done something like that since she’d tried to pick Miss Swire’s pocket all those months ago - the thing that’d gotten her locked up, actually.

She shrugged. “You kind of did, yeah. We should probably eat our food before it gets too much colder.”

“Shit, how long have we been talking? I lost track.” The ex-thief cut into her steak, watching it bleed with a satisfied smile. “Nice and rare. Oh, sorry, you’re an animal-person, right?”

“W-well, as long as they’re raised humanely, being used for protein isn’t the worst thing that could happen to them. I mean, slugs eat meat, too, although Biggie’s actually doing really well on the low-meat high-protein diet I have him on.” At the mention of her beloved pet, her eyes lit up.

Rope leaned forward. “I’ve seen you driving him around base in a stroller before. You really love him, don’t you?”

“He’s so precious, how could you not!” And as planned, she was off. “Oh, you should have seen him the other day...”

What’d started off with an awkward moment in the trading post was quickly shaping up to be the best night either of them had had in awhile; as the Vouivre began regaling her with stories of her precious pet slugs, the Cautus ate her meal, paying close attention. Vanilla would’ve made an easy mark, it was true, but looking at her now, that was the last thing on Rope’s mind, even though she had plenty of thoughts on what she could do with her...

#arknights #arknights fic #rope (arknights)#vanilla (arknights)#i have no idea if what i wrote even remotely resembles something realistic #except for Vanilla going off about Biggie of course #and them both working at a trade post together #cuz base skills #but uh...yeah #comments compliments critiques and what have you if you don't mind #thanks for not murdering me on the spot for trying this #and thanks coldgoldlazarus for submitting the request and helping me expand my writing horizons

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drummergirl231-2 · 4 years

Text

I don’t even know what to title this.

I’ve been trying to come up with a title for I don’t know how long and now I’m legit crying because I can’t even figure out how to start this post... so this will have to do.

I’m not okay. I can’t keep up with all this and everything going on in my life. I feel like I’m strapped into a car on a collision course for a brick wall and I’m just frozen in fear anticipating the impact.

Everything has kind of been spiraling out of control in my personal life (if you want you can skip to the bolded headings for what’s relevant to this blog).

My parents - whom a lot of you know about from my GoFundMe - are moving from California to Tennessee. I can’t afford to stay in California so I have to go with them (though they insist my going with them is my choice and that I totally have other options... but whatever. At least I’ll be out of California).

If my job can’t transfer me, I’ll lose it just when I was going to get the most hours (and therefore money) of the year, but my parents refuse to wait until after Christmas to sell.

My grandma recently died and even though my grandpa (step-grandfather) invited us up to the house at one point, his horrible son met us on the porch and rudely refused to let us in, telling us his father wasn’t seeing anyone. Now that his horrible son has left, grandpa invited my uncle and aunt up, but not my parents or me, and my uncle said he’s going to do what he can to bring us what we want of grandma’s. I didn’t get to say goodbye to my grandma because her death was sudden, and now I’m scared I won’t get to say goodbye to the only grandpa I’ve ever known, either, because I’m moving to Tennessee and he’s 89 and has heart problems and I’m scared he’ll die of a broken heart in every sense. I’d have liked to say goodbye to the house, too. My grandma didn’t want a funeral. She was one of those “Don’t fuss over me,” types who fussed over all of us. I have zero closure in this situation.

I have to get ready to move but have no idea how/when/where to start. I’m terrified of the 4 day journey to Tennessee, trapped in an SUV with my parents and five animals, including my poor elderly cat, Kira, whose anxiety makes mine look mild. I have Misophonia and so many food allergies I can’t eat out so I don’t know how I’ll do food for four days. My parents say they won’t bring the camping stove for me to warm up my lunches. It’s like they never raised an autistic child.

Things have been crazy for “Kristen,” me, but losing my grandparents, my home, possibly my job, and moving far from any family or friends I trust aside... things haven’t been easy for “DG,” me, either.

As badly as I want to start a youtube channel about Autism, Misophonia, food allergies, gut health, emotional abuse, etc., I cannot find the answers no matter how much I google when it comes to the tech problems I’ve faced. And I’m not even sure when I’d be able to record these videos because my parents are almost never gone. And when they are it’s not for long, and I just want to relax, and breathe, and be in the living room, and talk and sing out loud, and do all the things I don’t get to do when they’re here for just a little bit. I stay in my room so much I feel like I’m a diver holding my breath and as soon as they leave I can surface and gasp for air.

Also, I’m getting more and more self-conscious about my acne and this one tooth I have that’s crooked because my mom has enjoyed commenting on them lately and it makes me kind of scared to share my face with the internet and last night I legit had a dream about trying to get these things fixed with more braces and foundation. Like what even I literally don’t care about this stuff when people don’t comment on it. Why do I have to be so sensitive?

Problem is, I am figuring out why. I’ve been doing so much research on Narcissistic Personality Disorder and narcissistic abuse to try to understand my parents and childhood and young adult years, that not only have I been able to identify it in my abusers, but I’ve found some traits in myself. And I’ve searched and studied and tried to see if I have it and after this inward witch hunt I have to conclude I don’t have Narcissistic Personality Disorder, but I have a few signs of vulnerable narcissism. Even if they’re not enough for a label, they’re definitely things I need to work on (things like hypersensitivity, victim mentality, sulking and shut down, self-sabotage, things like that... and now apparently vanity, but only when people frequently give me flack about my face). Trouble is I don’t know how to work on these because I have no mentor, no counselor/therapist, no pastor, nothin’. And most of the videos about Narcissism are about identifying it or surviving it as the victim, not growing past the traits, because full-blown narcissists generally don’t acknowledge their flaws and try to fix them. So I’m at this annoying and fruitless phase of “self-improvement” where I just frequently scold myself for my thoughts.

YouTube ambitions and flaws aside, I have people waiting for the next chapter of my fanfic, and no one’s been pushy or anything, but there’s this huge weight on me to write, write, write, but with everything else going on in my life I just feel stuck. Like my brain is just “NERP.” And I feel guilty, like I’m the biggest disappointment to people.

And then there’s this blog itself.

It’s begun to feel more like an obligation for me rather than recreation. Every week I dread the time after a new episode airs. I want to make posts at my pace, about what I want to talk about, like what I used to do.

But sometimes the link I get has a weird video player window that I can’t make the right size to make decent gifs, and sometimes I can’t even take screenshots because when I pause it it’ll have the play triangle in the middle of the screen and the bottom of the screen will get dark, or sometimes the link just stops working. So I wait for the episode to go up on watchcartoononline because that’s where it works best for me but in the meantime I’m missing out on the fandom being online and by the time the episode goes up I’m just like, “What if the post I make of this moment gets like zero notes because it’s already been giffed and talked about a million times and I’m late to the party? What if I’m disappointing everyone?”

I try to not post anything until I can post about the episode properly, and I’ve asked people not to send me asks or messages with episode spoilers until they’ve seen proof on my blog that I’ve seen the episode, but that hasn’t stopped them. I get spoilery asks anyway.

I get a link relatively quickly but mainly I ask for people to wait for proof I’ve seen the episode because I want a chance to get my own thoughts on the episode out first before people ask me about specific things or straight up demand I talk about what they want me to talk about on my blog.

For a couple weeks I even made all my posts and saved them as drafts first so real quick I could just post ‘em all in a row and get ‘em out, because I know the second I post one thing I’ll have everyone going “OMIGOSH SHE’S ONLINE,” and trying to send me asks and messages and I’ll be trying to juggle them all while trying to make more posts about what I want to talk about. I feel like I have to reply to those messages because if I don’t I’m scared they’ll see me make another post after they’ve sent their message and be like, “What the heck she’s online why won’t she reply to me?” So sometimes I’ll just stop posting and hope and pray they think they just missed me or something, which isn’t fair to them.

But then I’ll see something new on my dash - art from khionyohann, new screencaps for the upcoming episode that DuckTalks shared - and I’ll want to reblog it, but then I’ll think: “I can’t reblog anything... people will know I’m online then. And I still haven’t posted about the episode. I can’t do things out of order. They’ll think, ‘Why isn’t she talking about the new episode? Why isn’t she answering my asks? Why isn’t she replying to me?”

And by the time the episode gets posted on watchcartoononline (and as long as I don’t have a migraine and I’m not paralyzed with fear), I make my posts, but by then I feel like I’m super late and I don’t even know what the point is of me reblogging things anymore, if I even remember there were things I wanted to reblog.

My time here has become nothing but me trying to please people while simultaneously trying to hide from them.

So... blarg. All that to say, I’m closing my ask box for a while. And I’m sorry to disappoint people. I’m just so overwhelmed by everything right now. Extroverted thinking isn’t even a cognitive function that comes naturally to an INFJ! It’s utterly exhausting.

And while I do still want to do more posts about the latest episode, I hope you’ll understand that things are just crazy for me right now and I’m not in a good place. I’m trying to be okay and I’m trying to be so excited about an episode that I get motivated enough find ways to blog about it no matter what but I don’t have the energy. I want to reblog stuff, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I want to interact.

And for the few I consider true friends on here, please know I’m not asking you to leave me alone or anything. Just know I might not respond as soon as you message me... which, honestly, you’re probably all used to by now, but I still feel super guilty about it.

I just need to simplify my time on here a little bit because I’m not okay.

#personal post #probably the longest i'm-closing-my-ask-box announcement ever #is ask box one word or two when it's referring to tumblr?

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livin-in-mementos · 5 years

Text

After Some Time (...and a break or two)

Ugh... okay, its here. The big one. Let me preface this by saying I wont be doing a count by count story of what happened, it’s too many hour and headaches that I don’t need to be fair. But I said I’d get to it... and boy howdy has it been swirling in my head since.

The Slazo Situation Revisited

So small backstory for those who haven’t boarded this crazy train of bullshit and migraines, this story is about a fairly large commentary youtuber by the name of Slazo (Or Micheal) who was caught in a controversy when his ‘Ex-Girlfriend’ exposed him in a Twitlonger for being a manipulative, sexual harasser. DM’s and screenshots of chat logs were shown and it made Slazo look pretty scummy. A few days later Slazo releases his defence video outlining the parts that were true and a lot of points that were fabricated to make him look evil in the eyes of the internet, with added proof and conveniently missing parts of his exes proof that would have exonerated him on the spot in the eyes of the internet courtroom. For opinions sake, yes I do think Slazo is innocent of the more damning accusations that were put against him, no I do not think he was 100% innocent. Of what he was guilty of? maybe being a pretty shitty boyfriend.... though at the age of 15-16... its slap on the back of the head material... not cancellation worthy.

Slazo was pretty much cleared of it all and everybody went on with their day... heck it shouldn’t even be called the Slazo situation, because while his name was brought up a lot, he wasn’t really all that key to what happened next...

Commentary youtubers from all corners of the internet had an opinion on what Slazo had done and how guilty he was (again, I will not be doing a play by play of every accusation) which boiled down to two camps

1. “Slazo is guilty and here is why... Oh and have a bunch of off-cuff situations I witnessed where Slazo was really creepy that I only just now remember and want to bring up.”

2. “Lotta commentary youtubers being liars, snakes or hypocrites up in here.”

Which in turn brought two youtubers under the microscope themselves, ImAlexx and Hyojin.

Alex first as it’s easier and is the least weird of the two. Alex jumped on the Slazo hate bandwagon pretty quickly and started accusing Slazo of a bunch of things that couldn’t easily be proven, while also completely backing up the story that Chey (the ex) has given in her Twitlonger, despite the fact it had been blown open with so many holes that not even a brain dead goldfish could find logic in it. Alex would later admit he had a part in writing the Twitlonger, as did many other prominent commentary youtubers and friends,outing the Twitlonger as more of a team effort rather than just Chey writing it herself.

After this Alex was accused of a bunch of stuff himself including being a social climber to get more popular since he was a pretty good friend to Slazo before all of this happened, as well as a snake since he supported Chey and the Twitlonger until it was criticised as untrue.... and Alex said the same to cover for himself.

To this day there hasn’t been a clear end point to this, Alex has tried to brush away from it all and has taken the bumps of being called controversial, hoping for it to all die down eventually. (While writing this Alex appeared on the Happy Hour Podcast to give a rundown of the situation to the hosts who admitted they knew nothing of the situation. What’s worse Alex seems to have glazed over many of his own wrongdoings that only escalated the drama further.) Opinion? To be honest, I don’t know... Alex obviously tried to ride the controversy to boost himself, that much is sure, yet when it came back to bite him he tried to hide and wait for it to blow over. It’s sad, It IS snakeworthy and since a proper apology hasn’t been issued... it’s not a good look for him at all.

Hyojin to me was the worst of the two to me. While she didn’t say as much publicly, it was was was happening behind the scenes that just frustrated me.

(Be aware, if you like Hyojin and think she can do no wrong, DO NOT READ PAST THIS POINT. A lot of hot-takes will be thrown out there and a lot of criticism will be put out there too. I WILL be talking about the aftermath at length which is where the support poured in for Hyojin. I will being ripping that apart just as much, if not more for the bullshit that it was.)

Hyojin sucks, and I mean she really sucks. A lot of what was thrown out about Slazo in the Twitlonger allegedly was orchestrated and was the idea of Hyojin herself, taking what Chey was saying and embellishing it with the rest of their friend group. It’s alleged however and won’t be part of the criticism thrown at her.

While the incident was being investigated, Hyojin was too, including her colourful hot takes on Slazo and how creepy he was. Hyojin would never publicly call out Slazo since at the time, anybody who did was getting rinsed by the internet very quickly. So instead she hid on her discord and talked in DM’s about destroying Slazo’s career so he would never recover and deleting messages that challenged how Chey publicly omitted any evidence that made Slazo look like less of a monster. Shady.

During the internet investigations, it was discovered that Hyojin had an old art Twitter where her fictional character was drawn fucking her friends in several positions. The problem was, several of these friends were underage and despite her defence that none of these friends minded.... it was still there for public viewing as was still wrong. One instance even had another youtuber by the name of Kavos in one of these pictures even though he was never asked, nor gave his permission. The irony of all this being that much of what Hyojin criticised Slazo for, she was guilty of herself. Creepy.

Here’s where it gets controversial... probably more for me. Dog dropping rumours aside. (trust me, it was stupid)

Hyojin was getting major flak for everything that was found out about her and it seemed to get too much for her, which is understandable. Her response to all of this was a tweet telling everyone she was going to kill herself. The public response actually became something that confused me, because in the blink of an eye everyone retracted their criticisms and gave out well wishes instead. To make the trend even more sympathetic the youtubers involved in writing the Twitlonger started urging people to give her space and lay off on the nasty comments.

I for one, did not care. Heartless of me? Maybe. But it was all backed up by reasoning. Here was a girl ready to throw the life of a person under the bus for being a slightly shitty boyfriend and lying to make it sound worse. Helping to write up a statement that grossly exaggerated things to such a degree that Slazo was the most hated person on the internet and was blasted by everyone left, right and centre. After he proved to everyone he wasn’t like that, the attention turned on Chey and the friends that helped her and when their dirty laundry was put out there and they were being criticised.... now it was unacceptable? Now it was too much?

YOU TRIED TO OUT A GUY FOR BEING A SEX PEST! Shit that will follow him for life. But people calling out racist remarks you made? the underage porn you had drawn? The toxic behaviour you exhibited to anyone who questioned you?

....yeah that was too much and the line had to be drawn right?

But hey, it’s okay, you can just back to twitter the second the drama blows over and everything is all good now right?

Now this is where I direct it to the people who think that Hyojin is infallible, that she can do no wrong. She messed up bad, real bad. If anything she’s the true villain behind all of this and it’s shocking the lengths people were going to just to defend her. If every racist, abuser or sex pest threatened their life to be let off, this world would be screwed, but the second a darling Tumblr artist with links to popular youtubers does it, it’s a crime to list the irony that she attempted to cancel a guy with far worse repercussions that would lead to life long damage.

The worst part of all of this was that an apology would have cleared all of this. They knew they were wrong but an apology was impossible for them, so instead it’s made bigger, uglier and dirty laundry is shown. If anything, I’m happy it got to where it did since it showed the ugly side of Hyojin for everyone to see. So my opinion of Hyojin?

Fuck Hyojin.

#hyojin #slazo #Drama #offmychest #slazo drama

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aliceslantern · 5 years

Text

Beyond this Existence: New Life, short 15--Smoke

Recovery is a tedious, nonlinear process. Demyx, Ienzo, and the others living in Radiant Garden's castle have to learn to come to terms with their pasts and their memories, learn to grow, and begin to understand what, exactly, it means to be human. While there is unexpected joy in this, there is also unexpected sorrow. A series of oneshots set after Beyond this Existence.

Current short: “Smoke.” One of Aerith's tests leaves Demyx with an unanticipated award.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

Demyx was tired of looking at leaves. His eyes burned, and there was a crick in his neck from being bent over the countertop for most of the morning. He was pretty sure he was going to permanently smell like anise seed. He stuffed the pills he'd made into their pouches and wiped his hands on a damp rag.

Aerith offered him a glass of lemonade. “I’m surprised you haven’t complained.”

He took it. The tart sweetness almost, but not quite, masked the taste of the herbs he’d been breathing. “My strategy now is to try and ignore it.”

“I was hoping you would.”

“Ignore it? Or complain?” He sat gingerly on the stool and felt his feet throb.

She appraised his handiwork. “A lot of our work has to do with endurance. I gave you too much to do, in a manner that was intentionally confusing, on purpose.”

He held back the urge to groan. “So this was a test?”

She smiled. Aerith had a mischievous side, one he was still getting used to. She sorted through the pills and packets he’d made. Anxiety only made the ache in his feet worse. After a long, long moment, she said, “Not bad.”

““Not bad” can also mean “not good.””

She brought her eyes to his. “You made no awful mistakes. The medicine would do its job. It’s the finer points that you seem to have trouble with. Like this migraine powder. There’s no oil or anything to mask the flavor. It’d work--but it’d taste very bitter, which is the last thing a person in that much pain wants.”

Demyx exhaled. “Right. That makes sense.”

She squeezed his shoulder. “It’s only been a few months. You’re bound to make some mistakes. This will all be second nature at some point.”

He stood and flinched when he took back his weight. He really needed to invest in some better shoes. “I want to be good at it now .” The only thing that had ever come effortlessly to him was music, and even that was hard won these days. He started to put away the excess herbs in her apothecary chest. Aerith’s handwriting was notoriously bad; reading the labels felt like something of a test too.

She touched his shoulder. “And I’m happy you’re so passionate. But don’t rush the process.”

He nodded and made himself smile. “Right.” He was just about to shutter the cabinet when one of the smaller drawers in the corner caught his eye. It wasn’t--no. He pulled it open and saw the buds neatly wrapped in cheesecloth, probably to cover the smell.

He didn’t need training to be a healer to recognize this plant.

“Is there a particular reason you just have a drawer full of weed?”

She raised an eyebrow. “It can be used as medicine, you know.”

“Yeah, I… know.” He shut the drawer.

“Did you want to take some? I don’t mind.”

“I don’t need it.”

“But do you want it?”

Demyx didn’t know how to read her sometimes. “I… don’t know.”

“So take it. Smoke it or not, I don’t care. Just give me a heads-up if you want the night off.”

“...Sure.” He held the drug, feeling like he was doing something wrong even though he’d easily carried far more potent painkillers. Embarrassed, he tucked it into his pocket. “Thanks. I think.”

She smirked. “We all need to cut loose every now and again.”

---

Demyx made dinner that night for Ienzo. His own cooking was never inspired, and it all seemed to come out bland no matter what he did to it. Ienzo’s food tasted better, but it wasn’t necessarily fair to always make him cook, especially now that they lived together.

He thought a lot about fairness, these days. He guessed it had something to do with getting continually trod on his whole life.

Before he could spiral along that path, he heard the door open. “Hey. How was your day?”

Ienzo set aside his glasses and phone before giving him a kiss. “Productive. I started my first draft.”

“Can I see it?”

“It’s not nearly ready.”

They took their meal at the small oak table. “You’ve got a funny look on your face,” Ienzo said. “Something happen today?”

“No, not really.” He stirred his rice aimlessly. It was a bit undercooked. His rice always came out that way, or else it was mush. He blamed the front stove burner; it was a bit too hot. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Have you ever done drugs?”

This seemed to amuse him, more than anything. “Why is it you ask?”

“It just hit me that I kind of have easy access to them.”

“Well, most of the substances you work with aren’t exactly for recreational purposes.”

“Mm. True. Except Aerith kind of gave me a bag of weed?”

His eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Yeah. Really.” Demyx took it out of his pocket and put it on the table. Ienzo poked it with the tip of his fork.

“I suppose she must use it as a painkiller,” he said.

“You can look at it, if you want.”

“I’m… fascinated, despite myself.” He cleared his throat. “I suppose that answers your question. What about you?”

“Huh?”

“Have you… indulged in such things?”

Demyx rubbed at the back of his neck. “A few times,” he admitted. “It was usually offered whenever Luxord had one of his poker nights.”

“I do wonder what happened to him. I hope he’s well.”

“He was fun to be around.” Demyx sighed. “If his Nobody was killed, he’s whole now.”

“I hope he’s as happy as we are.”

A moment passed. They contemplated the bag on the table.

“Should we do something with it?” Ienzo asked.

“Like smoke it? Would you want to?”

“I’m… curious. That is if you want to.”

“I think it would be fun to get high with you.”

“Exactly. Fun.” There was something analytical in his gaze, though.

“I just have to let Aerith know I’ll be out of commission. Then we can do whatever.” He felt a blush heat his face as he texted her. Though how was this worse than drinking? Not that he did that often anymore, either. All she sent in response was a thumbs-up emoji. With slightly trembling fingers he took the fragile papers out of the bag and tried to roll a joint. He’d never done this, only seen it done. Ienzo watched with interest. Demyx half expected him to start taking notes. “Let’s go over to the couch.”

Ienzo handed him the box of matches they usually used for candles. They sat, knee to knee, as if about to commit a crime.

“I’ll start it.” It took two tries to get it lit, and he coughed. Already he could tell this stuff was stronger than whatever sketchy stuff Luxord or Xigbar had purloined. He handed it off to Ienzo.

“How do I--”

“Just breathe, but not too deeply. And hold it for a few seconds.”

Ienzo did so. Demyx had to admit that seeing him do it was funny. He coughed as well.

For a few minutes they passed it back and forth, not saying much. Already his head was feeling light, watery.

“I’m not sure I feel anything,” Ienzo admitted. “Am I supposed to?”

“You might not.”

“It tastes… interesting.” He tapped some ash into an empty glass. “How odd, the things people will do for fun .”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“I’ve seen some interesting things. On missions and whatnot. But then there’s always this veil of impersonal...ness.” He trailed off, and touched a hand to his brow.

“You alright?”

“It stopped.”

“What?” A little wave of fear broke over him.

“The anxiety. It stopped.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s part of it too.”

Ienzo leaned back heavily. “How strange . I feel so…” He stumbled over his words. “Things feel more the same than I thought. Just slightly… bigger.”

Demyx laughed. “You’re stoned.”

“Am I?”

“I think.” He took the last drag off the joint and ground it out. He felt warm, sleepy.

"The silence is just so lovely," Ienzo said. "My head is always so full of noise--you have no idea. Everything is always too much."

"I can help you, you know. I can give you medicine which will help. Er. Well, like, actual medicine, not this."

He lay on his back and rested his head in Demyx's lap. "I'm afraid."

"Of what?"

"Afraid who I'd be without it?" His eyes were glassy. Demyx brushed the hair from Ienzo's face and looked at both his eyes. "It's the most constant thing in my life. From the past, I mean."

"I don't want it to eat at you, though."

"No." Ienzo took Demyx's hand and began to toy with it, feeling at his fingers absently. It was hard to tell how much of this was weed or how much of this was true blue Ienzo, without the weight of fear or inhibitions. "I will consider it. Truthfully. This is the happiest I've ever been. It may just be my nature."

"Could be."

Demyx stroked his hair. It was so soft. He couldn't believe how soft it was. "God, I'm high," he mumbled.

Ienzo snorted. "You're not so above it all."

"Do I normally seem that way?"

"I can feel you detach yourself sometimes. That you take care of me sometimes instead of yourself."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

Demyx looked at him for a long time. "I feel like I'm pretending to be the person I want to be. I want to be better than I was. But it's hard. I get mad. I get frustrated and upset. Slipping into old habits would be so easy." Ienzo shut his eyes.

"I am listening. That feels very good."

"You're like a cat. Independent. Curious. Stubborn."

"Hard to win over. Hard to get rid of."

"I don't ever want to get rid of you."

He smiled. "How sweet."

"I can be very sweet. When I want to be."

Ienzo touched his cheek. "It is in your nature."

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“Well, I am.” He opened his eyes. “We’ve changed so much. And we’ll probably keep changing.”

“I know.”

“It feels… strange.”

Ienzo’s expression was sharp and serious, but Demyx couldn’t contain the bubble of laughter that caught in his throat.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“It’s not funny ,” Demyx said, and it was true; the laughter was divorced from his actual emotions. “As it is terrifying .”

“We’ve nothing to be afraid of.”

“It’s hard to get myself to believe that.” His eyes were watering. “Sometimes I swear I’m going to wake up and this will all be gone.” He was verbalizing thoughts he hadn’t been aware of.

“I know. I feel the same. But that is simply… simply not the case.” Ienzo sat up and tried to fix his hair. “I wish I could prove it to you.”

“...Zexion would never have been this nice to me.”

He smiled. “Demyx would never listen so emphatically.” Ienzo kissed him. “Our lives have been full of odd coincidences, but I’m glad you were one.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“To even calculate the odds of us existing at the same time--much less falling for one another--it must be one in a trillion.”

Demyx groaned. “I do not want to think about math right now.”

“I second that notion… I feel a tad dizzy.”

“Lay back down. It’ll pass.”

He did, pressing his face into one of the couch cushions. “This sensation is so curious,” he mumbled. “I should like to… examine it in more detail.”

Demyx laughed. “I can do that.”

#beyond this existence: new life #demyx #ienzo #zemyx #aerith #tw: mild drug use #beyond this existence #i'm sorry but the idea of them smoking weed together was too funny to resist #i realize this chapter probably says a lot about me

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swindlersstole · 4 years

Note

24 for your choice of pairing!!

if YOU get to have OC Hours then I ALSO get to have OC Hours, those are the rules (although mine are platonic hours)

24. “You’re the only one I trust to do this.”

“So... let me make sure I understand this.”

Chelan fidgeted rather obviously while Nova stared her down, hands locked in a flat steeple at his lips. It wasn’t his intent to scare her, not in the slightest, but the request she’d made of him was... trying, to say the least.

“You,” He pointed at her with both hands still flat together, “want me,” He gestured to himself, “to make you... a bunny suit.”

“...I mean, if you’re gonna put it like that,” Chelan mumbled, “yeah, that sounds completely bonkers.”

“That’s... you’re being very kind about it.” Perhaps Nova was just coming at this from several sour notes in his past regarding the costume, but it really felt like he was missing just as many links in this puzzle. “I don’t... mind, but I guess, just--why?”

“Well--you know what it’s like to idolize someone, don’t you?”

“I... yes?” There was so much to unpack in just that one sentence. “Are you saying you... looked up to a bunny girl?”

“Oh, not just one, a whole bunch!” Chelan’s bright green eyes lit up even brighter in excitement. “I grew up in a casino, remember? So I’ve been surrounded by bunny girls my whole life. I’ve always thought they were the most prettiest women I’ve ever seen! Just all this long, soft hair, and tight clothes, and perfect makeup, just--so glamorous. And tough, too! I never saw a cottontail without a smile, and they all handled angry customers like you wouldn’t believe, they didn’t take any lip! And they were always so sweet and kind to me...”

Her eyes wandered off skyward, and she held her face in her hands with a wistful smile. “They were just everything I wanted to be when I was little, this--just beautiful woman with so much charm and mystery and... pizzazz... who knew how to have fun but was always taken seriously, no matter what. What’s not to love, honestly!”

Hearing Chelan talk like that, it was hard for Nova to argue. Despite his own experiences, he supposed there were worse professions to idolize.

He couldn’t think of any, but the odds were in favor.

Chelan seemed to realize she’d rambled off, and jumped back to attention with a loud cough. “Um--’course, I understand that that... might be sort of hard for someone outside my bubble to follow. Especially someone that doesn’t like casinos all that much, but--”

“Wait, wait, what?” Nova cut in. “I like casinos just fine.”

“You do?” Chelan’s pigtails bounced with a perplexed tilt. “But Erik said they were pretty hit or miss with you.”

“No? I always thought I could hold my own in one. And I’ve visited your family’s casino a lot of times before...” He pondered about it for a moment, before snapping his fingers in realization. “Oh, you know what? It’s probably because I never want to go to Octagonia’s casino. Can’t stand that place.”

“Really? I heard it was pretty nice. What’s wrong with it?”

“It knows what it did.” And Nova said no more on the matter. “But, I guess to follow that up... you live and work in a casino, right? Can’t you just get a costume through work?”

“I... I could. In theory.” Chelan started to fidget again, gesturing her hands wildly like scales. “But we’d have to get it tailor made for me, and that means I’d have to talk to Daddy about it. I don’t think he’d have a problem with it, he gives all the girls the choice if they want to wear it or not, but it... it’s my daddy, y’know? It’s an embarrassing thing to ask for, and I’m not the most... poised in front of ornery patrons, and the suits can get a lot of bad attention. I don’t want him worrying about me.”

“You... wait. You wouldn’t be wearing this costume to work in?”

“Ohohoho, nnnnnnnope!” Chelan laughed just a few hairs short of maniacal on that one. “I’m no where near that confident! I’ll take this secret to the grave if I have to.”

“So... hold on. This is a secret bunny outfit that you’re gonna wear in private for confidence boosts. Is that... right?”

Chelan clapped her hands together once in elation. “Exactly! It’s a bespoke cottontail.”

“...Okay, fine.” This onion had far too many layers. It some ways, it was like looking into a highly specific mirror. Nova suspected he’d trigger a migraine if he thought too hard about it. “But if it’s a secret, why are you asking me for help?”

“Because you have the forge Daddy gave Erik when he helped Nana out.” And here, Chelan’s smile turned a bit wry. “And based on what Velvet down at the exchange counter told me, you also have the recipe for the outfit.”

That... was true, yes, he did still have that book. His deep-rooted need to find every recipe he could mixed with an unfortunate miscommunication of a request had led Nova to acquiring that book from the Maras Casino some time ago. How Chelan had deduced that and why it mattered eluded him, but the pained grin on her face told him she was going to explain why.

“Y’know--it’s kinda funny, I don’t actually get much time to play the slots in the casino myself? Have to work the tables, you know how it is.” She started. “But once we got that book on the shelf, I started using my breaks to get some rounds in and earn some extra tokens. I was gonna earn just enough, go exchange them for the book, and then run to the Builders’ Guild for a commission. Would’ve been totally discreet, and no one would have been the wiser.”

Nova had a sinking feeling he knew where this was going. “...and then?”

“And then!” Chelan’s voice was still cheerful, if not a small bit accusatory. “The day I get enough tokens, I run over to Velvet to get the book, and she tells me that a guy came in, just--blasted through the slots, took the recipe and was gone.”

“Oh.” Yep. Exactly as Nova had suspected. He wasn’t sure if he felt... guilty, or not, but he certainly felt awkward about it. “Uh... Sorry.”

“It--no, listen, you couldn’t have known, it’s just the cruel irony talking.”

Chelan paused to pinch the bridge of her nose, before shrugging her shoulders with a sigh. “Look--I know this is an inconvenience, you have a lot better things to do than make a cottontail costume for a friend of a friend. And, again! Super wild of me to be asking the Luminary for this particular favor, I know! But, the fact of the matter is... you’re the only one I trust to do this. You’re the only one I can trust! And I wouldn’t ask you to do it just because, I still have all the money I set aside for the commission, I’m more than happy and ready to pay you for this, so...!”

Her words trailed off, and without anything more meaningful to say, Chelan lowered herself in a pleading bow. “Please, um... please at least consider?”

This was far from the first time Nova had ever been asked to make something for someone, but it was the first time he’d ever been asked with such... fanfare? Disclaimer? He wasn’t sure what to call it, and he wasn’t sure he liked it regardless. There was nothing natural about people feeling indebted to him, and certainly not over something so (comparatively) minuscule. Luminary or not, one didn’t need a reason to help people, if they were able.

But if Chelan was anything like him (and he suspected that she might have been), then he knew he wasn’t going to make this happen without some manner of transaction. Though he could certainly make it more fair towards her. “Do you still have all the tokens from when you were going to buy the recipe?”

Chelan lifted up her head, bewildered by the question. “I--yeah?”

“Well, I don’t like the idea of taking money from a friend,” he shrugged, “so just give me the tokens, and I’d be happy to call that even.”

Her demeanor changed almost instantly, and she jolted back up, straight and narrow. “Are--are you serious? You’re sure?”

“Sure, I’m sure. I’ll get more use out of the tokens than the gold.” Nova smiled. “It’s probably all going right back to your casino, anyway.”

Chelan’s hands, curled into fists, started to tremble, but her pearly white smile betrayed her joy, and a barely restrained squeal later she’d jumped on Nova in the biggest, tightest hug she could manage. Which was actually very tight, Nova was sure he heard his back crack from the force--which in itself felt very similar to one of Jade’s hugs.

Oh, Goddess, he really hoped they didn’t have the same measurements.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, thank you so much, I could kiss you right now! But I won’t! Because I’m pretty sure you’ve reserved that spot for Erik!”

“Is it too late to back out for that one?” Nova gasped out, but he was still grinning about it, so he’d accept that tease this time.

“No, because you really need to get on that. Zill wants to cater your wedding.” Chelan let Nova go when he started to sputter. “But, seriously, I mean it. Thank you--so, so much. I can’t even begin to explain how much this means to me.”

“Well... I won’t lie. I don’t really get it, myself. And I don’t think I can write it up as just being ‘a girl thing’, either.” And neither could Chelan, from the looks of it, as she nodded in agreement. “But if something’s important to you, then... it’s important to you, and that’s all that matters. I don’t have to understand it to respect it.”

The admission seemed to catch Chelan off-guard. “So--would you have done it even if I hadn’t said why?”

“I like forging things, and I like forging things for my friends. That’s all there is to it.” Nova answered simply. “’Course, I am glad you told me, though. Now I know I need to keep it a secret.”

“Ah ha... yeah, that... would have been bad.” She laughed quietly, bashfully. “Will you be able to keep it a secret? I guess if Erik knew it wouldn’t be the end of the world, I know he can keep his mouth shut, but...”

“If I forge at home, it’ll be fine. Only person that might find out is my mum, if you’re alright with that.”

“Well, if I can’t trust the Luminary’s mum, who can I trust, honestly?”

“Nobody, that’s who. I’d trust Mum over me any day.” It was his mum that taught him that valuable lesson in understanding others in the first place. Nova would have been remiss not to listen to her even here. “But, you have my silence. Give me a day or so to find all the materials, and I’ll come back to take your measurements. It’ll all be done before you know it.”

Chelan hummed in understanding, and then, silently, raised one hand to Nova, her pinky finger extended. “Promise?”

That level of earnestness and innocence from someone outside of Cobblestone surprised him, just a little, but Nova smiled and raised his own hand, linking his pinky around hers. “Promise.”

#panda does a write #oc hours #dq chelan #it strikes me now that chelan has a very dolly parton view on the bunny girl aesthetic and i think that is very good of her #also jade and chelan DO have the same measurements and nova is very tired #thechavanator

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kindredsever · 5 years

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FUCK it. I have a theory.

As I was capping volume 5 last night, I noticed something that I didn’t remember before ( probably because I blocked out much of volume 5 I’ll be honest ). So, after Cinder and her cohorts “negotiate” with Raven and Vernal, we eventually cut back to Raven as Vernal reports where those little hellions are staying. Raven looks like the human embodiment of a migraine, hunched over and not really looking at her as she speaks. They talk about how obviously there’s no way they’ll be safe unless they get the Relic for themselves, and when pressed Raven gives her Typical Raven Answers --- blahblah “Yang made her choice,” blahblah “have to do what’s best for the tribe”. Then she leaves for Haven and has her conversation with Lionheart. With me so far ?

I forgot the Lionheart discussion even happened, fair, but I ALSO picked up on something. When she flies to Haven, she caws once; hearing this, Qrow immediately looks out the window with a look that screams “shit it’s Raven she has something to say” and looks like he’s about to go after her. Problem is, Oscar comes in and says Oz wants to talk to him. In that moment, he glances between Oscar and the window --- he ultimately sighs in an “ah shit” kind of way and effectively chooses Oz. He gives the window one more glance and then walks away.

My theory is that she was going to warn him. She was going to tell him in at least some capacity what was going to happen, but he never showed.

If she only came to talk to Lionheart, why would she caw at all ? It’s been established already in a couple scenes throughout the series prior to that point that Raven would caw once whenever she was watching Qrow, and he would react with annoyance. It’s a clear acknowledgment/source of recognition for one another, and specifically them. She also proceeds to tell Lionheart “I still have questions” and then... Doesn’t really ask any. In fact, despite telling him there was no shame in saving himself, what questions she does ask are actually very pointed and accusatory --- and it’s pretty clear to even Lionheart she’s mostly just trying to convince herself past that point. Raven was very clearly teetering on the edge of how she wanted to actually go through with her plan, particularly when Qrow was unable --- or unwilling --- to cooperate in that moment.

If this sounds like she had a pretty half-baked plan, it’s because she did. Cinder and co. genuinely caught her off-guard, that was obvious the moment they walked into the camp. It’s something her and Vernal “prepared” for, but it was obvious from Vernal’s reaction that it wasn’t something they were anticipating so soon. It was also clear from her horrified expression throughout the “negotiation” that “wanting Qrow dead” wasn’t part of the plan. ( I... still don’t know why anyone thinks Raven genuinely wanted her brother dead. You really think Raven Branwen would hesitate to just do it herself ??????? ) When Raven backs away a bit with her hand on her sword, breathing a little rushed, she says “backed me into a corner, huh?” And I think she meant that. I think in that moment, she genuinely was scrambling for the right call to make --- weighing it all in her mind, and allowing a little bit of her true demeanor to slip out under the safety of a mask.

The plan she ultimately settled with was based on, I think, a few main things she knew to be true:

they needed that relic. if they didn’t have that relic, salem would never leave them alone or alive --- and that’s a promise.

they needed that relic away from salem. regardless of whether or not she agreed with ozpin’s methods, regardless of how she chose to handle the dilemma with spring, she’s very much against salem --- she even said as much when her demeanor started to slip and her breathing / tone got more erratic. she doesn’t just genuinely fear salem, she LOATHES salem and everything she stands for. if she’s missing even just ONE relic, she hasn’t won. raven doesn’t intend to hand her ONE .

in that moment, she genuinely debated using her maiden powers... but they were outnumbered, and one of them had maiden powers as well. in the vault, they were isolated and cinder had already made her move. that allowed for an easier struggle for power.

she also knew how many people qrow had with him, along with a certain silver-eyed niece of his. they were children, yeah, but that didn’t stop anyone else from throwing them into the fray. with qrow’s bad luck AND additional, capable people on his side, he was a lot less likely to be overwhelmed / incapacitated regardless of what happened.

and, again, she was concerned for qrow. she was concerned for yang. honestly, i have no doubt she was concerned for ruby, too --- moreso as summer and tai’s daughter than as a person, but concerned nonetheless. which is why she ultimately decided to warn him.

Unfortunately, it didn’t happen that way. Whether she intended to see Lionheart from the start or she decided to do that to cover up her reason for being in Haven is difficult to say; I think she was unsure if Vernal had really been followed or not, given how much they already knew --- ie their location in the first place --- so it was a way to cover her ass. I think she also wanted to know what it took to sway Lionheart, why he turned and what Salem had on him; not so much out of loyalty for Ozpin, but out of genuine, morbid curiosity. Everything beyond that was just grandstanding --- and an attempt to assure herself that she was making the right call in a no-win situation.

#* : HC.#i know this is a long post i am Sorry but this was such a brain blast moment at like 7am

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lumilasi · 5 years

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Random oc facts (updated)

Because I’m bored

and because lot of stuff in this was now inaccurate after having been using my characters more in my stories, so I wanted to update this.

(Well, to be fair, Wasabi, Reidou and Rankure haven’t appeared in any, tho Wasabi might)

Kain

- his health slowly gets better over the years, so as an adult he suffers less from complications such as vertigo, migraines, nausea, etc. His vision however ends up getting impaired hence he wears glasses.

- He does regain a little bit of emotional range overtime, and initially it is actually dangerous, because he can’t quite handle it. Namely, he can’t handle anger which tends to be the first emotion coming through. Him getting angry can cause his quirk to go out of control and even harm allies.

- He’s not really available for dating due to being Aro/Ace, but he’d take advantage of someone crushing on him probably, if it could lead to something interesting/help him with whatever he is doing at the time.

- His relationship with Ryuu is difficult to describe; it’s not romantic by any means, but there is a very strong companionship bond between the two that has pretty much majority of the elements romantic relationships have, except the whole romance and intimacy part.

- That being said Kain is definitely the boss of their relationship, and he tends to be a bit “parenty”/mentoring towards Ryuu, rather than viewing him as his equal. He does always take Ryuu’s thoughts and feelings into accordance, but mostly is the one making decisions.

- Kain has a bit of a fixation on keeping promises, to the point he has a compulsory need to fulfill them. As a result, he tries to be very careful when speaking and wording things, to make sure he can leave himself some leeway. When his emotions start to creep back however, he tends to be less careful about it which can be taken advantage of by someone.

- When it comes to the other three, Kain has respect for Reidou due to her babysitting him/trying to help him as a child before she was forced away. He finds Wasabi amusing and is fond of the kid (not as much as Ryuu) and is mostly neutral/disinterested in Rankure.

Ryuu

- Ryuu initially found Wasabi really annoying, but grew pretty fond of the kid quickly and is nowadays almost as protective over him as he’s over Kain

- Ryuu is pretty dumb and not a tactician by any means, he more follows his instincts or Kain’s instructions. He has near unshakable trust towards Kain, and looks up to him a lot due to how smart he is, and how calm he can stay in tough situations - both traits Ryuu secretly wishes he had.

- Ryuu doesn’t usually recognize if someone flirts with him, he’s bit of an airhead in that department. If he does find out someone has a crush on him, he usually doesn’t know how to react, mostly questioning the person’s taste. While he has a very close bond with Kain, he’s never felt any physical or romantic attraction towards him per say. For Ryuu, Kain is his family that accepts him for who he is, it’s as simple as that.

- he mostly comes off as brash, reckless and wild bastard who doesn’t give a shit, but that’s not entirely true; when he worries over somebody, Ryuu tends to calm down remarkably and hold back a lot if the situation needs it. Some people who’ve only ever seen his “villain” face would probably not recognize him when he’s being genuinely concerned over somebody.

- He has a wacky horrible taste in fashion, and if he could he’d wear the most random colorful shit he could get his hands on. Mainly because of the tight dress code in the orphanage he grew up in, it’s another form of “Fuck you” to the people who ran it.

Wasabi

- Often wants to go on a dimensional trip with Kain and Ryuu, his mums usually won’t let him for a good reason

- He was pretty much home-schooled as Rankure couldn’t really bring him to any school initially due to the gang-trouble she was having, and later with Kei they figured his current mind-set would not necessarily be able to handle the setting and could result in him getting hurt, or other kids getting hurt.

- Wasabi almost always carries around a stick or so as a weapon, and he gets really upset if it breaks, sulking over it four hours, or until he finds a better stick.

- Adult Wasabi’s fighting style resembles Ryuu’s a lot with how fast his reflexes are and how much it involves kicking. He’s a bit smarter than Ryuu though, able to think more tactically, though not to the same extent as Kain.

Rankure

- She tends to still visit her brother Higure’s grave every now and then, though she has to disguise herself when going to the city given her criminal record and the fact some people still have beef with her

- Rankure tends to always jump and perch up to somewhere high if Ryuu catches her off-guard. Her first reaction to meeting him and recognizing him as the infamous villain ’Frostbite’ was pretty much the same - and hiding behind Kei.

- She’s even more afraid of Kain, and honestly thankful the ginger tends to ignore her for the most part. generally, Rankure is easy to startle and scare.

- She loves to floof Kei’s already floofy hair and plop her head/face in there. She also likes to do this with Wasabi.

Kei

- She’s fully aware of how dangerous Ryuu (and Kain) are, but given her distrust in the hero-system due to what happened when she was a teen, Kei has chosen not to make a fuss if they are around, as long as the two behave. Plus calling the cops could just get her GF arrested too. (The villagers of the place they live in don’t really know about Rankure’s background, let alone the two boys)

- She still carries guilt over not being able to save Kain all those years ago, both from his dad and himself, which is also probably why she chooses to sort of turn a blind eye to their presence and occasional actions. You could call her morally grey or ’morally exhausted’ as she likes to put it.

- Kei was primarily the one to teach Wasabi how to read and write, as well as other basic stuff. She was also willing to teach him about whatever caught his interest, be it explaining how rain works, or how sushi is made.

- Generally speaking, Kain and Ryuu tend to lay low around the place, as both respect Kei enough to not cause problems.

#random character facts #my bnha ocs #i was bored #akashiro kain #kain akashiro #katagiri ryuu #ryuu katagiri #saname wasabi #rankure hanekijo #kei reidou #shitpost

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generaldevi · 5 years

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Prognosis

Chapter 6: Stomach Issues

Rating: Mature Pairing: Law x Luffy

Characters: Roronoa Zoro, Nami, Monkey D. Luffy, Trafalgar D. Water Law, Usopp, Donquixote Doflamingo (mentioned), Donquixote Rocinante (mentioned, Dr. Kureha (mentioned), Sanji (mentioned)

Warnings: References to Depression, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional Dependency

My part for the @lawlu-events BigBang 2018/19

The story got illustrated by the awesome artist @novicecomics

The way Law thinks about alcohol + work or alcoholism in general does not reflect my opinion. Do not drink and drive/work. Do nothing, that could endanger you or others. Be responsible with any kind of legal drug that you consume!

Chapter 6: Stomach-Issues

Law was restless. He was not sure why he felt like this. The night had been rather relaxing. He had managed five hours of sleep, which was quite a lot for a person like him.

The morning had been eventless. He had managed to eat his breakfast in a relaxed manner. No annoying people had bothered him. The Strawhat had been nowhere in sight. Some folks might call it paranoia, Law called ‘staying safe.’ After breakfast Law went to the doctor’s office, swapped shifts with Dr. Kureha. She sounded a bit buzzed. The room was left in a mess. Good thing, that the cleaning staff took care of it in a swift manner. Law was already waiting for the inevitable to happen. He sat at the desk, waiting for the Strawhat to barge in. One of his friends in whatever condition. But he did not come. There were a few elder people in need of some light medication against nausea, some girls wanting lotion for the blisters on their feet or lotion for their sunburns. One teen had come with a twisted ankle and another person with a migraine was currently resting in one of the prepared rooms. So far, nothing unusual. So far, no Strawhat.

In the last hour no one had come to visit him. It could be, that it was because one of the doctors sharing his shift was way more friendly (especially towards children). But well, nothing Law was concerned about. He disliked children. Their usual friendliness, the innoence, their open manner made him uneasy. Damn, mandatory three-month traineeship on the pediatric ward had been hell. Law wanted a different traineeship. He had three to pick from and Doflamingo had picked for him. He was supposed to be good with children. He was supposed to take care of the future family descendants. Law sighed. Not the things he wanted to think about at the moment. He had to admit, that sitting around at the moment and doing nothing, was not doing him any good. It never did. His mind wandered off to the Strawhat more times than Law liked to admit. Did he finally realize, that the attempts at befriending him had been futile? Probably. It was just a typical thing. It had happened before many times. People always tried to befriend him. Somehow, they constantly thought, he had a cool or special vibe to him or maybe it was due to the fancy clothes from the Donquixote-brand. Law did not care about their reasons. After being declined two, three or more times, they realized that Law had no interest in them. Usually, the attempts at trying to befriend him stopped by then. Law always thought of these people as pathetic beings, like Doflamingo has advised Law. The Donquixote had taught him many things that stuck with Law till today. If these people were sincerely interested in him, they were supposed to try harder! That is what he had said. Cora-san always said, that friends would stick with him, even in critical times. These pathetic attempts at befriending him made Law feel, as if they were not genuinely interested in Law but only in what he represented. A perfect little Donquixote spawn, made and raised to be a loyal pawn. However, something had seemed unusual about the Strawhat. Law could not pinpoint what it was. The cheerful grin, the shishishi or just his presence in general. It had some fairly familiar vibe. With a sigh he took one of the medical books standing next to him. They were outdated, probably just there to look cool and professional. But well, better read something, then being bored.

With every passing minute, with every voice outside the door, that was not the Strawhat his mood dropped a bit further.

When his shift was finally over, he was angry and frustrated. Of course, he had to be right. Of course, no one would be like Cora-san ever again. Trying hard to be friends with him, to get close to him.

Sometimes Law was not quite sure if it was his own fault, that he ended up without friends, or if he could blame being raised by a megalomaniac sociopath. It was always easier to blame others than to admit, that only he could alter his attitude. The exchange of the room was easily made. The cleaning staff did not have much to do. The migraine-patient was still resting. After filing in his report, he left the room. With a grumpy expression on his face, he walked towards the deck.

No. Law was in no mood of idle socialising. He did not want to see any more people than necessary. With a sigh he turned around and walked towards his cabin. The more time he spent with Dr. Kureha, the more Law thought that maybe alcohol was the solution he needed, chemical pun intended.

Grim thoughts spread through his mind as the keycard was pushed through the card system. The door opened and with another sigh Law fell into his bed. Maybe he should have spent the mandatory time-off with the family. Better than feeling yet another disappointment.

Law was not sure how long he had spent brooding in bed. Long enough, considering his alarm clock showed nine in the evening. His shift had ended four hours ago. Wait- what was this noise? Someone was hammering against his door. “Torao!!! I know you are in there! Torao!” Laws eye twitched. No. He had spent too much time thinking about the Strawhat. This was just another auditory hallucination. “Torao?! Are you sleeping?”

With a sigh and the familiar throbbing, that would soon start to be a migraine, he opened the door. “No. But if I was, now I would be awake anyway!” He growled, looking at the over enthusiastic boy in front of him. Why was the damn boy constantly smiling!? Who could be in such a upbeat mood all the fucking time?! “Good that I did not wake you up then! You often look tired!” “Why are you here…?” Law was in no mood for idle talk.

“I uhm-“ Luffy frowned. He wanted to ask him for the barbeque again. Nami did say, that Torao was just gonna decline again, if he did it the same way as the days before. Stubborn! Who could decline good food this often?! Nami did suggest, that he could fake some kind of disease to spent time with Torao but Usopp said, that Toroa was probably to smart for that. True, then again. He could just try! “I uh- have a stomach ache!” It was the first thing that entered his mind. His eyes were still gleaming, and the corners of his mouth were twitching. It was hard to fake sickness! Luffy was in a good mood, and he wanted to show it! “You have a stomach ache?” Laws voice was monotone. Even though he was a relatively young doctor, he had his fair share of people trying to fake illness. Some because of medicine-addiction, some to get free from work, others due to psychological reasons. All these people had one thing in common, though. They did it way better and realistic than the Strawhat in front of him! The way he starred at him; eyes locked deeply into his. His mouth was twitching to much; his whole posture was tensed up. One did not have to be a genious to recognize these signs. “Are you sure? “N- Yes!” Luffy knew, that liars often looked away. They said that in one of the criminal shows. So, he had to look in Torao’s eyes to make him believe! He stared. Intensely. “Okay. Did you consume something odd?” “No! I did not eat at all! I waited with the dinner until you come. You did not come out on the deck! So, I went to search you! Hn-“ Luffy’s stomach rumbled loudly. He was starved! He had not eaten since noon! That was nearly six hours ago! “You searched me, because I did not come to the deck?” “Yes!” “I thought you came to me because of your stomach issues.” Law suppressed a sly grin. Too easy.

“I-“ Luffys eyes widened a bit, before he started to laugh.“I am not good at lying! Usopp is extremely good at that!” Law was fascinated. How easy the boy could admit, that he was bad at something this substantial. Lying. Who managed to live without lying?! “But yes. I wanted to find you! After talking to the old had, she described me, where your cabin is! Come now! Let us go eat! After ten we cannot eat the deck anymore!” “No, Str-Luffy. I do not want to eat with you. I dislike barbeque, and I do not want to be with either you or your friends on the deck.” For a moment there was a frown on Luffy’s face, before he grinned again.

“Okay!” He turned around, taking a few steps away from the other’s door. Law stood there, frozen. He left. As easy as that? He pushed away the feelings of regret and isolation. Numbness spread through his veins, making it easier to accept. As always. Slowly, Luffy turned his head around, grinning at Law. “If you do not wanna be with us on the deck, then I bring my friends to you! We eat at your cabin!” Law was too shocked to react for a moment. In his cabin- “Wait, no!” This boy. He had not let him down.

„Okay, fine!“Law exhaled, while gently massaging his throbbing temples. This boy gave him a terrible headache. He wished for nothing more than some painkillers, coffee and a cigarette amd maybe a good lay to get rid of these thoughts. “If I go and eat with you once, will you stop bothering me?!” “Yes!” Luffy grinned. He knew, he could convince the other one! “You and your friends will not come to my office room again. If one of you is dying, you will go to one of the other doctors!” “Sure!” Luffy laughed, amused by Laws reaction. He had known, that Law was more than the calm and unapproachable person!

“Come! I am starving!” He reached for the others hand, simply pulling the other one towards him. “Let us go to the others! Nami likes you! Usopp is scared of you! But he is frightened of many things! He will get used to you! Just talk to him about robots or comics! Or insects!”

“Of course you are hungry, so much to stomach problems!” He knew, the other one had been faking! It had been so obvious. He had never witnessed such a pathetic case of faking… in all his years as student or now doctor. Merely observing him lie, had made Law feel awful. Stomach Issues... He had watched Luffy eat. The amount of food the other one had stuffed into himself in the short time Law, had observed him, had been… surprising. Law was curious. Was it a special medical condition? Luffy was not obese; in fact the boy was far from it. He was more of a scrawny person with a hint of muscles. Not enough muscles to justify the intake of the immense amount of calories. Maybe these thoughts would distract him from the annoying company of the Strawhat and his odd friends.

#LawLu #Trafalgar D Water Law #Monkey D Luffy #lawlu bigbang #OPFanfic #Fanfiction: Prognosis #Chapter 6

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theawkwardterrier · 6 years

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beautifulwhensarcastic replied to your photo “Good morning from the Beth Israel ER! Been here for about eight hours...”

Are you okay?

Hopefully on my way there! I’m home and feeling much improved and best of all I left

lavellenchanted replied to your photo “Good morning from the Beth Israel ER! Been here for about eight hours...”

Oh no, I hope you're alright!

Appreciate it - it wasn’t my favorite experience, but also not the worst experience of my life! (I interviewed for a job on 30 minutes of sleep the night after the 2016 election.)

theshortywrites replied to your photo “Good morning from the Beth Israel ER! Been here for about eight hours...”

I'm sorry you're in the ER! I hope you feel better. Also, yes. That hallway gurney is your home now. You live there. Forevermore. But given my extensive ER experience, hallways stretchers generally mean that while you may be sick as shit, you're not actively acute rapidly dying and that counts for a lot right?

That is true. And my tiny hospital house was placed right by the doors through which the people who were in the active/acute/rapidly dying phase were being whisked, so it definitely put things in perspective. (Also, when they moved me to a room, I actually longed for the gurney where I might be noticed and discharged instead of spending what seemed like the rise and fall of an empire waiting for them to let me leave.)

indiefic replied to your photo “Good morning from the Beth Israel ER! Been here for about eight hours...”

oh no! I hope you're okay

Hopefully yes, thank you!

mediocre-mee replied to your photo “Good morning from the Beth Israel ER! Been here for about eight hours...”

What happened??

Bit of a story here... (Medical stuff below)

Back on Sunday the 17th, I started having incredibly painful and weird headaches behind my right eye socket. (I was pretty certain that I took myself to paint pottery over the long weekend, but had to confirm that I actually did have the pickup receipt because it was a strange, semi-hallucinatory blur of an afternoon. Hope it turns out well!) At first I thought I was just an old woman who can’t stay up late anymore, so I was Very Responsible and got extra sleep and drank water and took Motrin and absolutely nothing helped.

The headaches got worse; toward the beginning of the week, I would wake up fine and then the pain would start toward the afternoon and escalate into the evening. Friday night, my right eye started tearing consistently for about an hour. By Saturday morning, I woke up with the same, terrible headache I had gone to sleep with, and my right eye so droopy it basically looked closed. It’s remained pretty droopy since, which neither my roommates nor people at my office seemed to notice (compliment?).

I’ll also mention here that two weeks back, I hit my head (right eyebrow, toward the nose) on the towel rod in my bathroom. Which stunned me for a second and had a tender spot and a bump, but otherwise no immediate symptoms. Now I was starting to wonder about slow developing concussion issues.

I was incredibly reluctant to take action, in case it ended up looking like an overreaction, but also because I was worried about what next steps would look like (doctors? in MY brain???). I talked to my incredibly calm and smart mother, whose new motto is “don’t be like the lady in the endometriosis commercial” so I took myself to urgent care on Sunday. The woman who saw me there started by advising me to go to the ER right away, then walked it back and said it could just be conjunctivitis (which I’ve seen and was pretty certain I didn’t have) and to go pick up some eyedrops. Obviously I asked what would happen if it was an emergency problem and I just took eyedrops and she told me that “wasn’t a fair question” because “she didn’t know what was going on in there.” Then I asked if she would overall advise an ER visit, and she said, “well, that’s why I’m presenting you with these two options.” So that was very helpful.

Because I’m a pushover and was also afraid of an ER visit and its potential results, I took path of most eyedrops for a day or so, but then messaged my doctor (I think the endometriosis lecture has sunk in) Monday. She scheduled me for an exam and MRI at her next appointment (Thursday afternoon) but told me that if I experienced changes in symptoms especially dizziness and nausea, I should go to the emergency room.

I struggled through Tuesday with the hallucinatory feeling back and the pain getting progressively worse (my new best friend Excedrin Migraine was no longer working for more than an hour or so). Then I started feeling somewhat nauseated...and told myself it was nothing and it would pass. (I’m extremely good at health.) I took the bus home. I put together my new coatrack. I took a shower. Then I started noticing a tingling and numbness in my feet, moving up my legs.

So finally I packed a backpack with comfortable clothes, a water bottle, my wallet, and a cell phone charger, and took two subways to the hospital.

They got me checked in pretty much right away (they escalated it because of the fall/concussion risk and potential escalation, but also because I was experiencing tachycardia and I think they were nervous; I’m almost certain I had the accelerated heartbeat because I was nervous. Like potentially that I might die.) Texted my parents; my dad headed out to come stay with me.

Through that night and into today, I got a head CT, an MRI (I fell asleep inside; this happened at 3 AM ish and the weird pulsing jackhammer noises were somehow soothing), a second, different head CT, and saw an ophthalmologist and ENT. Basically my eyeball is fine, my brain is fine, the fall probably had nothing to do with anything, the theory that I was bleeding somewhere in there got thrown out, and what I probably have is a mucus filled cyst that’s been hanging out in my face (right sinus) and became infected and started pushing on my facial muscle and eating away at my bone. Which is SUCH a fun image, but also better than brain surgery or “well, you’re dead from an aneurysm!”

So now I get to be on medication to shrink the cyst and clear up the infection and then go in next week so they (please GOD while I’m asleep) can stick a camera way up in there and also biopsy the thing because even on the imaging they’re not 100% sure it’s not some kind of other mass. And I'm supposed to go see a neurologist because the tingling feeling in my legs isn’t really explicable with the other stuff.

Anyway, I’m taking tomorrow off of work. And that’s what happened.

#beautifulwhensarcastic #lavellenchanted #theshortywrites #indiefic #mediocre-mee #thanks for the kind thoughts friends!#the thought of all the bills is freaking me out even with my insurance but I really do think I got top notch care #THANKS BOSTON! (check us in the US News and World Report hospital rankings; then check us again)

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chibisquirt · 7 years

Text

Celestial Navigation remix teaser

This isn’t even its final form.

No, seriously, this isn’t anywhere close to even a first chapter first draft. It will change! And I’m not writing it right now. (I would say “I’m not writing The Thing,” except that that would be true, and this would be The Other Thing.) I’ll probably seriously start work on this sometime in... April? May? Right around then. Definitely not during Remix Madness, not unless I can somehow work three work shifts and write *eyeballs it* 60-100k in two days.

Don’t hold your breath.

But @sabrecmc said she loved my idea, and I wanted to get it down before I forgot it. So this is... the start of an idea.

I had fun with it, anyway.

Tony stormed into the lab in a bitch of a mood, but he really didn't think he could be blamed. Fury's words were still ringing in his ears like a boxing blow.

“We have no problem with Iron Man; Iron man does damn good work. And we have no problem with Tony Stark; Tony Stark is revolutionizing every lab we got in this damn place. But Tony Stark and Iron Man being one and the same? Yeah, that we kinda have a problem with.”

In the wake of Afghanistan, Tony had been adamant that Stark Industries would no longer make weapons that could fall into the wrong hands. He couldn’t shut down every operation— SI was under contract for up to three more years, in some cases, and they couldn’t afford the fallout of breaking those deals— but all the contracts they were bidding on were dropped, and Tony had flat-out refused to consider any future deals making weapons.

But he wasn’t willing to just shut down the company wholesale, so alternatives had to be found. SI already made body armor and flight prototypes; Tony had ramped those categories up, adding green energy and communications to their list of milieus. He had SI producing with his usual high standards within months, and SHIELD was his biggest contractor.

Of course, once he had SHIELD clearance for those contracts— which weren’t being offered to the military yet— it made sense to bring Tony in as a contract engineer, too. For the last three months, he had been romping around as many SHIELD research departments as he could find, and been playing merry hell with all of them. (Except for linguistics; the linguists were a little weird, even for him.) He already had a helicarrier under development, as well as some prototype hard-light armors that no one other than SHIELD would ever be willing to pay for. He even had his hands in SHIELD’s perennially doomed efforts to create a super-soldier, not that he expected it to make a difference. SHIELD had been failing at that one since back when they were the S.S.R., Tony didn’t exactly expect it to succeed now.

The science division was about fifteen floors of the Triskellion (twenty-seventh to forty-second, in fact), but the central area of the twenty-seventh floor was its own little access way: if you wanted to get anywhere in the science division, you had to go through there.

Tony swanned into that science lobby like Alan Rickman entering a potions dungeon.

“Alright, kids, show daddy the good stuff," he said, and a dozen Beta scientists leaped to obey. Ten points to Ravenclaw, he thought, and sneered at the first project that came under his nose.

Well, okay, come on— that wasn’t being in character, it was just a really bad design! “Why did you put your damn rotors on the bottom, Evans?” As if Tony didn’t already have a migraine...

“I thought— it’ll make for less wear on the bolts to heave up the body than to pull, right? So—”

“First of all, no it won’t. And second of all, it’ll increase the wear on the rotors themselves—”

“No, but— it lands in water, right? I mean we’re not doing this from land, or anything—”

“ — and at those speeds, the water may as well be concrete! This isn’t grade school—”

Evans got the message.

Tony worked his way through them, the UAV’s and the phasers and the—

“Please don’t call it that.”

“Well, if you come up with a better name than the ‘night-night gun’ I’m sure we’ll be happy to change it,” the little Beta huffed.

— and slowly worked his way through to the back of the lounge where the scruffy-looking Dr. Banner was waiting.

“Done with the scrum?” Bruce asked. He sipped his tea.

“Mostly. Saving the best for last.” Tony pasted on an encouraging grin, just for him.

It wasn’t Bruce’s fault, it really wasn’t. Bruce was a good damned scientist, careful and thorough and painstaking, but with an effortless grasp of higher concepts of physics and chemistry that still seemed to elude some of his more decorated colleagues out there. It was Bruce’s bad luck, though, to be assigned to the shittiest project in the whole place. Seriously: if the projects were potions students, Bruce’s was Neville Longbottom. And it wasn’t fucking fair— but then, very few things were.

Plus, at this point, Bruce was contributing to his own relegation. It wasn’t like his good work had gone unnoticed— if no one else had tried to scoop Bruce, then Tony would have. But as Tony had been informed— repeatedly, and at a variety of volumes, some of which had not been necessary, thank you, Fury— Bruce had stubbornly insisted that he could crack his stupid Super-Soldier project, and had remained, slowly chipping away at it, for over a year after he could have been reassigned.

That was honestly the only reason Tony was even interested in the project. It was a bad idea; far too much potential for abuse, for one thing— what if you super-soldiered the wrong guy, and got a madman? So Tony jumped on board to help Bruce get done faster, and then he started screening the candidates, too— just to make sure they were all people he would trust with super-powers. It took up more of his time than anything else he did here, but it was also a bigger challenge: psych evaluation wasn’t exactly Tony’s strong suit. See exhibit one: Stane, Obediah, betrayals thereof.

“Got a new batch of subjects in,” Bruce said mildly. “I know you like to meet them.”

“Fabulous; something else to fail at.”

Bruce stopped and pivoted halfway through the door of his department, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

Tony sighed. “Nothing. Meeting with Fury went... poorly.”

Bruce tipped his head to the side, but didn’t push. Very restful guy, Bruce. Tony really did like him. “First one’s through there,” was all he said, pushing through and back to the exam rooms. Bruce’s department was set up so much like a doctor’s office that Tony suspected it had originally been intended to be one, and the decor didn’t help: muted tones and uncomfortably-padded furniture. He even had magazines in the waiting room, although, being for SHIELD agents, they were more Guns&Ammo than out-of-date US Weekly.

Tony snagged the file out of the holder on the back of the first exam room door. “Barnes, J. B., Level 3 SHIELD Agent,” he read off. “Fabulous, more spies; just what we need.”

Bruce nodded unironically and headed to the lab— ostensibly to run tests, but Tony knew that was where he kept his teapot, and his mug was suspiciously empty. Mark down another on the list of people who drink around me, Tony thought, although the thought was a lot fonder than it usually was. “Be nice to that one,” Bruce instructed. “I like him.”

“Good lord, why?” Tony opened the door.

“I’m serious, Tony; he’s on the short list.”

Tony blinked, and then without another word, stepped through, closing the door behind him.

J. B. Barnes was tall and fit, a Beta wearing a SHIELD uniform. So, they hadn’t pulled him off of an assignment for this, then. Closer examination revealed the cast on his left arm: a-ha. Benched, for now. His hair was brown, eyes pale— blue or gray, hard to tell at this distance— and his ears, apparently, were sharp, because he was grinning.

There was something familiar about that grin... Tony shrugged it off.

“Name and birthday?”

The grin barely faltered— no more than a sixteenth of an inch.

Okay, and right off the bat, that one was probably on Tony; they were required— stupid Bruce and his stupid scrupulousness about protocols— to confirm the identity of the people they were talking to before discussing any medical records. But Tony didn’t have to say it quite so sharply. He didn’t usually spit the words “name and birthday” like they were going to take out Gilderoy Lockhart, after all. So once Barnes had confirmed that, yes, he had been born March 10th, twenty-one years ago, Tony settled into the little doctor’s stool, did a full rotation because wheelie stools never got old, and apologized. “Been a long day,” he explained it, “people being difficult.”

“And by people you mean pirates?”

Tony almost didn’t get it for a second, because it was said so blandly it might as well have been asking his oatmeal preferences, and because it was so unexpected coming from a Level 3 agent. “You usually that irreverent about Fury? He might keel-haul you.”

Barnes grinned again. “I have a well-established pattern of snark,” he admitted. “There’s a reason I’m only a level three.”

Tony looked back at the chart again. “You’re a baby,” he said absently, “don’t take it personally—”

It was a pretty impressive chart, though. “You can shoot.”

“Yeah, a little.”

Barnes could probably win gold at the olympics and be set for life, given the numbers from his last round on range. Sure. “A little,” Tony repeated dryly. “Interrogation specialist, really? ‘Exceptional problem solver,’ what does that even mean? And you speak...”

“Five languages— well, okay, the Irish is mostly profanity.”

Tony hefted the file. “This says four. Counting the Irish.”

Barnes shrugged. “The Klingon’s more recent,” he admitted, “and it really shouldn’t count anyway, there’s only, like, three thousand words—”

“Closer to thirty-five hundred.”

“It’s not Chinese, though, right? I mean...”

Tony’s mouth twitched. “It’s not Chinese, no. Or... Russian, apparently. Huh; eclectic.”

“Thanks.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“There a reason you’re busting my balls?”

Tony paused. More of the snark? Or was he really being too harsh?

“I mean, given that Doc Banner just told you he likes me. Either you’re trying to break me— which, good luck, chill out though because it’s not going to happen— or you’re in a legitimate shitty mood. In which case, I’d rather not be your punching bag.”

There was something about how he said it... The young man wasn’t saying it to push, like another Alpha would have. He wasn’t saying it defiantly, either; it wasn’t like he was daring Tony. That one was a standard technique in Alphas and Betas alike: the Alphas used it to start a fight, the Beta’s used it to make the Alphas look irrational and over-emotional. It usually worked pretty well in either case, too, although Tony had seen it often enough in boardrooms that he could handle it.

But that wasn’t what was going on here, and the difference was so obvious it set Tony blinking. The guy— Barnes— was just stating a fact, that was all. “Here’s what I see, and that’s how it is.” No bravado, no push— just truth.

Which neatly left only one possible response. “Sorry,” Tony said again, and meant it this time. “Pirates. You know.”

“Perils of the high seas,” Barnes agreed. “But it’s just us up here in the crow’s nest; you wanna talk about it?”

Tony laughed, impressed by the balls on the guy if nothing else. “No.”

“Could help.”

“No,” Tony repeated, struggling to keep down the simmering heat that had been resting behind the arc reactor since his meeting with Fury delivered his ultimatum.

“Look, we like what you do, Tony— there’s no doubt about that— but Iron Man is too reckless, too borderline suicidal, to also be the guy essentially running every research operation we have! Add to that, every analysis we’ve got—”

Tony had sent Natasha Romanov, sitting at the table with them, a dirty look, but she had just blinked slowly at him and Fury hadn’t checked his tide of words.

“ — has indicated that Iron Man is a dysfunctional personality— and that was even before we knew he was also you.”

Tony caught his breath. Iron Man was the best of him; hearing that even his best wasn’t good enough... that hurt more than he wanted to admit. And certainly not to Fury.

“He is headstrong, disregards the standard protocols of operation, twice he’s put our other agents in danger—”

“Point of order: he can’t put your ‘other’ agents in danger because he isn’t one—”

“I don’t care, Stark. Make a show. Be stable. Invest in the future—”

“What do you think the whole ‘green energy’ thing is about?!”

“ — personally invest. Hell, get yourself an Omega! Pop out a couple kids! We’ll all pray the brains are heritable and the personality isn’t. Just... don’t break things, for once in your goddamn life. Show me you can be a team player, and I’ll think about it. Show me you’re not an adrenaline-junkie mess, and I’ll welcome you back with open arms! But until that happens, Iron Man— and you— are barred from all aspects of the Avengers Initiative.”

Fury had almost made it to the door when Tony’s head snapped up. “You know,” he called, “if you don’t break things, you can’t put them back together with improvements!”

The only answer was the whisper-soft slide of the Black Widow’s boots as she followed Fury out the door.

“Unless you’ve got an Omega in your pocket,” Tony said now, his voice approximately as dry as a dead cactus, “I’m shit out of luck.”

Barnes froze. He blinked, and then blinked again. He looked around the room as if scanning for cameras before bringing his head back around to meet Tony’s eyes. “I mean...” He rubbed his palms along his navy blue trousers as if he were trying to rid them of sweat. “...You can’t tell Fury.”

Tony froze, thinking about it. It had been an offhand joke, a throwaway line designed to get the conversation back on course. But then again...

Tony was about to make a very, very, very large mistake. He tossed Barnes’ file on the counter.

“Tell me more.”

#celestial navigation #remix #steve/tony #stony #steve rogers not actually appearing in this snip #unless you count the phrase 'very very VERY large mistake'#in which case Steve absolutely does appear #whoops

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