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#like dude you have had this same anxiety fit AT LEAST once a month for AT LEAST five years
nowendil · 3 years
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:/ why can't i sleep when im supposed to
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y0itsbri · 3 years
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Hi Bri 🥰
C-16 if you'd like to 👀
Coffee dates and disasters
au with college!lip and barista!mandy where ian is a frequent visitor at the campus café and meets mickey under rather unfortunate circumstances. don't cry over spilled milk, buddy.
which also fits under a.u.gust for @gallavichthings
words: 2.4k
"never would have thought you the type to come to one of these places," ian mused, looking around the small café with only lamps and string lights illuminating the space. "can't believe college changed you, man," ian clutched at his heart dramatically.
"don't worry. 'm still the annoying bastard you love so dearly," lip squeezed ian's shoulder before he sauntered up to the counter.
the barista's bored expressed brightened when she saw them. her perky demeanor was matched by a high pitched voice, "hey lip," she smiled, dark lipstick striking. she appraised ian with a somewhat predatory eye, "hello, lip's friend."
"uh, brother," ian coughed.
lip rolled his eyes, "and he's gay so don't even try it, mandy."
she pouted and flicked her hair behind her shoulder, "not that it's any of your business, anyways."
ian chuckled besides him, drawing another smile out of mandy, this one kinder, sweeter.
"what can i get you boys?"
the pink highlights glistened in her dark hair as she whipped up lip's cold brew and ian's caramel macchiato, then proceeded to insist that this one is on the house. neither of them argued, but thanked her before they settled down in some stools by the window.
"fucking the barista privileges?" ian asked, raising his eyebrow at his slut of a brother.
"i think of it more like fellow south sider charity," he rubbed his bottom lip, "but yours works too," lip smirked around the edges of his coffee cup.
"you're an idiot."
"can a man who got us free drinks really be deemed an idiot?" lip philosophized.
ian paused, taking a moment of thorough consideration. he looked lip straight in the eyes as he answered, "if that man is you, then without a doubt."
lip tried to knock ian's cup out of his hand, but failed at his attempt. ian thanked his well-practiced jrotc skills and a lifetime experience of growing up in a house packed with annoying siblings for his victory.
they chatted about the robotics classes lip was taking, how he got full-time access to one of the labs, and his weird ass roommate who may or may not be gay if ian is at all interested. ian scrunched up his face. after hearing so many horror stories about the guy, ian didn't want anywhere near him. he wasn't that desperate yet.
the second that lip was out of his seat and heading to the bathroom, the beautiful mess that was mandy descended.
"hiiii lip's gay brother," she leaned against the table.
"it's ian," he spun his empty cup in his hands. he couldn't help himself from smiling at her charisma.
"well hi, ian, i just wanted to say sorry if i spooked you earlier. i just had no idea lip's brother would be so cute!"
"his ugly mug's not too hard to beat." ian laughed. "he got the short end of the gallagher stick, literally."
"cute and charming. you're funny, ian gallagher, i like you." she placed her hand on his shoulder for a moment, a movement so soft compared to her rather frantic appearance. "come back here anytime and it's on the house, yeah? i work most evenings after three."
"oh. uh- okay," ian scrambled for words, "thanks."
she squeezed his shoulder once before lip returned with a rather obnoxious entrance.
"ayo mands, stop harassing him!"
ian ducked his head in embarrassment.
"oh, shut up! i'm just clearing your cups," she winked at ian as she left.
mandy was something else. but she was kind and good company. ian could get used to the chill atmosphere over the chaos of the gallagher house anytime. he might just take up her offer.
--
"you'd think with all the time you spend here, you'd be offered a scholarship or something by now." mandy sipped on her chocolate frappuccino as she laid her feet across ian's lap. he always made sure to come visit during her breaks at least twice a week during the past couple months.
ian shrugged, "guess they only had room for one gallagher."
mandy hit his arm in a way that hurt. lip was fucked if he ever broke her heart.
"does fiona even know that this is where you sneak off to?"
"yeah." mandy's look said she didn't believe him. "well, kinda. she thinks i'm visiting lip, brotherly duties and all."
"yeah? how are those brotherly duties?"
"fuck if i know."
she laughed.
"i still think you should apply here for next fall," she encouraged, "could take some art classes."
"i suck at art."
"chemistry?"
"failed that."
"business?"
"yeah, no thanks."
mandy flipped him off, "fine. botany?
"ya know what? sure." he had always wanted to grow tomatoes.
"really?!"
"heart wants what it wants, mandy. we can't all be psychology brainiacs."
"brains and beauty, what can i say?" she teased. ian laughed, eyes glistening towards his friend. mandy made things better.
"hey," she continued, "there's this concert on the main campus lawn this weekend, you should totally come!"
"isn't that just for students?"
"they don't card, dummy."
"right, right, i knew that."
"sureeee. you in?"
ian mentally checked his work schedule.
"i'm in."
--
lip and ian strolled into the café a few days later. okay, maybe ian had felt a bit guilty for abandoning his brotherly duties lately, but at least this way he could hang out with both his best friends. well he could have if he remembered the fact that mandy had the day off for her behavioral neuroscience midterm. they had literally spent her previous shift reviewing the terms, he should have known.
ian's couldn't help his face from falling as another blonde barista took their orders, mostly eyeing lip the whole time.
"hi lip," she smiled a little too sincerely, "what can i get for you today?"
ian had ordered something new at the recommendation of the blonde and he was not a fan. and to make matters worse, he had to actually pay for the atrocity that he wouldn't even be able to finish.
"so how's your little coffee dates with mandy?" lip asked over his cup.
ian nearly choked on his god-awful americano. "how'd you know?"
"please. she's obsessed with you. every time i see her, it's 'ian this,' 'ian that,' 'ian might apply here in next year.'"
"oh."
"yeah, oh. when were you gonna tell me?!"
“it’s all mandy’s idea, i’m not even sure i want to,” ian muttered, refusing to make eye contact.
“dude, i’ve literally shared a room with you since the day you popped out of monica’s wretched womb, you think I can’t tell when you’re lying?”
okay maybe ian had been getting increasingly more excited about the idea of attending school and actually learning things that he wants to learn. something that might actually lead him somewhere real since rotc was looking more and more like a poor man's fantasy the more that he thought about it.
“I was gonna tell you, swear on it.” and he was. once he convinced himself that lip wasn't going to straight up laugh in his face. but the look in his eye seemed genuinely supportive.
“mhm, i gotta catch my english lit class," lip stood up, swinging his tattered tan backpack across one shoulder. he patted ian's shoulder in his big brother ways, "don’t be a stranger, yeah?”
“yeah, yeah for sure! have fun learning a language you already know!” lip flipped him off at his smartass remark.
soon after, ian stood up to return his drink to the counter, the anxiety from the conversation making him entirely lose whatever appetite he might have had. plus, it wasn’t the same here without lip or mandy. he just wanted to be wrapped up in a cocoon in his own bed. but that was so far away. maybe he could catch an early ride—
thump.
ian crashed into a guy’s sturdy body.
the remnants of his shitty drink spilled in an americano nightmare over both of them, ceramic pieces shattering on the floor in a truly horrific manner.
ian yipped and the other man let out a grunt of irritation.
they were fucking soaked. well, at least the coffee wasn't hot? ian tried justifying the situation, but, nah, this was bad.
"shit! i'm so sorry, lemme," ian reached out and the shorter man flinched away.
they were now far enough apart that ian got a good look at him. a leather jacket.. now covered in ian's drink -- shit. and shockingly piercing blue eyes that lingered too long on ian's before his cheeks turned a shade of pink that made ian's stomach flutter.
he might have seemed cold if he didn’t make ian feel so warm.
"it’s cool, man. i gotta go, uh," and he walked out of the café without looking back.
fuck.
ian smelled like coffee the entire train ride to the back of the yards. he laid in his bed regretting his entire life.
no mandy. no lip. no dignity.
--
the day of the concert that mandy had invited him to rolled around. ian wouldn’t admit it, but he was nervous to spend a coffee-less evening with mandy, their entire friendship built inside that one room. his little bubble of safety was bursting.
well, to be honest, the bubble had burst the moment that his disaster of a coffee was spilled onto one of the most ridiculously pretty guys that he's ever seen. every time he closed his eyes, he remembered the guy’s face shift from hostile to something else. he was torn between wanting to know the his name and also on never seeing him again in fear that he would simply pass away of embarrassment.
hopefully mandy hadn't heard about it. they may not have been friends for a long time, but he already knew that she would never let him live it down.
"hey ian!" her familiar voice called. that sounded promising.
his face fell with relief as he finally spotted her at the corner. she embraced him in a warm hug before pulling back and giving him a once over.
"huh, could have sworn you'd still have coffee behind your ear or something after the description karen gave me of your little disaster the other day." she smirked, quite literally double checking behind his ears as they turned hot under her gaze.
"ugh, fuck, how much did she tell you?" he itched his forehead and scrunched up his nose.
"oh, calm your tits, it's funny as fuck." she giggled, punching his arm in a way that still unintentionally hurt.
"whatever. are you excited for the concert tonight?"
their reunion conversation lulled eventually, and ian noticed that they weren't necessarily standing alone.
no. fucking. way.
just his luck, if he was being honest. he probably deserved this.
there he stood. the man that has plagued his dreams the past few days. in a light wash jean jacket that was a little tight on the biceps, leaning casually against the wall, kicking the pebbles on the ground with his boot.
"uh, what's he doing here?" ian gestured towards the victim of The Coffee Incident.
“what, you know him?” mandy asked, walking them towards him.
“vaguely.” if that wasn’t the understatement of the year.
"huh. i didn’t think my idiot brother had any friends."
brother? how did ian not realize she had a brother?
"what, did you think i was going to babysit you all night? i can't let everyone here thinking you're my boyfriend, no offense or whatever, but you're in good hands!" she kissed his cheek, clearly not helping her own not-looking-like-her-boyfriend rule.
ian eyed said brother's good hands only to see the faded letters of FUCK U-UP on them. oh.
mandy pushed ian over to her brother, "ian, mickey. mickey, ian," she introduced before pushing and shuffling her way through the crowd of college students to find herself someone’s cheap ass fruity alcohol to mooch off of.
mickey. ian's brain repeated over and over, a chime against the murmuring sea of voices they found themselves enveloped by.
"nice jacket," ian pointed out, an awkward attempt to converse before shoving his hands back in his pockets.
"it's my second favorite." the corners of his mouth lifted like there was more to the statement. ian took the bait, as if he could resist.
"what's your first?"
"first is still airing out the fuckin’ coffee smell," he smirked as ian groaned. "oh c’mon, man, don't go crying over spilled milk."
how could he not? on the bright side, he didn’t seemed to hate ian for it.
“if it was anyone else,” mickey drawled, “they’d have to get a beat down for it.”
“why do I get a free pass?” ian mused.
“well, you’re mandy’s friend, right?”
“yup,” ian tried to suppress his disappointment. he really did. but fiona always told him he wore his heart on his sleeve.
“yeah, that ain’t why, though,” his eyebrows waggled suggestively and ian nearly felt his heart drop out of his ass.
ian blessed whatever coffee god was out there for sending him both mandy and the beautiful man in front of him.
“you wanna go listen to the band?” ian nodded his head towards the stage with passionate players jumping around like they were playing lollapalooza or some shit.
“lead the way, stud, just try to keep your drinks off of me this time,” mickey knocked into ian’s own flannel covered shoulder.
yeah, ian couldn’t believe his luck. maybe karma was finally on his side.
mandy smirked at her brother and best friend not-so-subtly checking each other out over the course of the night, bopping their heads to the music and downing whatever free booze they could get their hands on.
she hoped that adding mickey to the equation would be enough incentive to convince ian to stick around. things were better when he was near.
the way that ian followed mickey around like a lost puppy with that dopey moon-eyed look, it seemed like her hopes would come true.
and when both ian and mickey strolled into the café to come visit her at work the next week, mickey in his worse-for-wear leather jacket and ian in borrowed denim, she thanks the coffee gods for her luck.
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shreddedparchment · 3 years
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A World of Our Own Pt.09
Paradise Lost
10/09/2020
Pairing: Bucky x Reader          Word Count: 5,013
Warnings: fluff, depression, anxiety, implied sex
A/N: Hopefully this isn’t too much of a mess. Life got me busy and I didn’t get to put this out when I wanted to. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work. xoxo
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“Hello? Yes, how can I help you?” Her voice is still a bit on the nasal side, her hair an ice blonde. Her eyes are emerald green and her lips as red as a ruby.
She doesn’t seem to remember you one bit. It has been ten months and you’d only met her once.
“I’m Y/N? I have a meeting with Mr. Swan?” You muster up all your courage after that initial hesitation, intent on completing your mission.
“Oh, right. The no-show.” She gets up and gestures for you to follow.
Quickly you hurry to catch up, watching the way she swings her hips as she walks, the movement exaggerated by the tight gray pencil skirt she wears.
She’s surprisingly fast on her six-inch heels and you’re dumbfounded by the skill.
Stopping at the end of a long modern hallway with black marble walls, the secretary knocks on the pale wooden office door, waiting a moment for response.
“Come in, Kay.” A surprisingly young male voice speaks.
Kay steps in, stopping with her back against the open door as she leans her weight on the doorknob.
“The no-show is here for you.” Kay says, voice casual and relaxed despite the fact that she’s speaking to A.I.M.’s CEO.
“Oh? Hi!” He greets as you cross into view.
He’s most definitely young. Mid to late twenties. No way he’s older than thirty, with short and carefully styled brown hair, brown eyes, and browned peach skin. His chin is blanketed in rough stubble and two dimples crease his cheeks as he moves towards you with his hand extended.
“Y/N, right?” He asks and you quickly take his hand and shake it.
“Yes.” You agree. “Nice to meet you.”
“That’ll be all, Kay. Can you order my lunch for two o’clock?” He asks, releasing your hand but gesturing the red modern armchair in front of his long glass desk.
“Will do.” Kay agrees and leaves, shutting the door behind her.
Mr. Swan rounds his desk, long and lithe, moving to sit in his chair and takes a moment to breathe in and release it slowly, as if it’s the first time he’s sat down today. When he’s settled, he gives you a smile and places his hands on his lap.
“So, you’ve been out of town for ten months?” He wastes no time getting to his point. “Unfortunately, Y/N, I don’t have a position open for you. We’ve just filled all the open positions in marketing and taken on all the interns we could use.
“If you wanted the job, you should have shown up. You were hired. I can’t save your spot just because you decided to take an extended vacation.”
“I-” Your heart is pounding, your blood boiling. There’s a buzzing in your head because you know you can’t say what you want to. You can’t tell him that you were stranded on an island with Bucky because it’s a secret. Not that he was stranded, but that you were there.
“I’m sorry to waste your time. Really. If you’d like to reapply, we’ll keep your application on file and should a spot open up, we’ll keep you in mind.” Mr. Swan assures you.
“Mr. Swan,” You begin, forcing yourself to give him a smile. Tight and humorless, it’s more a desperate gesture than anything else. “I didn’t extend my vacation, there were problems with my passport and travel visas. I was stuck in an airport for several weeks before they put me up in a hotel until they could figure out what the problem was.
“I-I’m not asking you to give me the same position. I know that I’ve lost the chance for that, but if you could give me a job anywhere in your company, I can research my butt off.” You say rashly. “I’m not an idiot. Research and Development would be a good fit too, or maybe consumer research?”
“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, “I don’t have anything for you. Begging for a job won’t get you one.”
“Mr. Swan-”
“Look, I have a lot of work to do. A company to run. And I’ve given you my answer.” Mr. Swan rises, reaching to refasten the button on his suit jacket. “If you don’t mind? I humored you because Pepper gave me a call to hear you out, but I’ll have to be more wary granting favors for friends. If you’ll excuse me?”
You don’t even have the chance to get up before he’s moving around to the door. He opens it up and leaves, disappearing to the right.
A moment later, Kay moves in and stops when she sees you.
“Oh, you’re still here? You should leave before he comes back. He’s an asshole but that was him being nice.” She explains, moving to his desk to drop off a thick yellow notebook.
When she turns, she stops by the end of the desk, looking at you pointedly.
You get up without word, moving out of the office feeling like there’s fire in your veins.
Loading the elevator, you turn and press the ground floor button. The cold air that blows from the ceiling sends a chill down your spine and it’s the push you need to knock you out of your daze.
As the doors shut and Kay takes her seat behind her desk, your rage overflows into one loud exclamation of, “Fuck!”
~~~~~~~~~~
“How long is this gonna take?” Bucky wonders, turning to Sam who sits beside him, relaxed as he lounges in his seat.
Bucky isn’t so unconcerned, sitting straight with one hand on his bouncing leg and the other balled into a fist on the table.
“I’m sorry, Sergeant Barnes, do you have somewhere else you need to be?” Fury asks, strutting towards them before stopping at the head of the table.
“Yes.” Bucky says, no fear or regret in his voice. “Y/N had a meeting with the head of A.I.M. today, to see if she could possibly get her job back.”
“Guess the money in her bank isn’t enough incentive to stop working?” Sam guesses.
Bucky shakes his head. “She wants to get back to normal if she can. We both do. But she’s having a harder time than I am. This means a lot to her.”
“Unfortunately for you and Miss Y/L/N, I’m afraid Augustus Swan is a grade A asshole. I don’t think she’s going to come away from that meeting happy.” Fury says, pulling out his own chair to sit.
“Then we need to make this quick.” Bucky nods, leaning both elbows on the table.
“I’ll dictate how long this debriefing will run, Sergeant Barnes. Rush me and I’ll keep you here all night.” Fury threatens.
As Bucky frowns, ready to argue, Sam meets his eyes and as he swings his chair around to face him, he shakes his head to calm him and then swings it back to face Fury.
“What do you wanna know?” Bucky sighs, leaning back once again, defeated by Fury’s iron stare.
“Well, for starters, when did you notice that things weren’t exactly right on that plane?”
~~~~~~~~~~
“You were lucky.” Sam admits, walking beside Bucky at a casual pace despite Bucky’s desire to be with you already. “If that stewardess hadn’t moved you and your Mrs. to the front of the plane, you’d both be dead.”
“Yeah.” Bucky agrees, wringing his hands with anxiety. “Were you able to find him? The stewardess’s husband and son?”
“In Texas. They were in contact with the airline but even the airline didn’t know what happened so, Ross filled in the blanks without actually owning up to the responsibility of it. Blamed it on malfunctioning engines.
“They didn’t take it so well. They’ve been paid off, but that hardly makes up for the years that kid is going to live without his mother.” Sam grieves, feeling for the family.
“I’m glad they at least know.” Bucky admits. “Y/N will be glad to know they’re able to mourn her properly. She won’t be happy but at least her heart will ache a little less.”
“She’s a good woman, Bucky.” Sam reaches over, clapping his partner once on the shoulder. “But she’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”
Bucky’s mouth turns into a small hesitant smile, shaking his head.
“Like, she’s got you whipped, dude. Whipped!”
As Sam laughs, Bucky follows, relaxing a little and grateful for the levity.
“You say that like it’s bad thing.” Bucky throws at him, but Sam takes his hand back and gestures his denial animatedly.
“No, I never said that. Honestly, anyone who says being whipped is a bad thing obviously never got it right.” Sam shrugs.
“You sound like you know what you’re talking about.” Bucky pretends to be thoughtful. “How’s that possible when you’re single as hell?”
Sam stops walking, fixing Bucky with a glare before he nods, looking betrayed.
“Alright, I see how it is. Don’t forget I owe you a tracking chip, Barnes. I will literally implant one in your ass.” Sam threatens, but Bucky can only laugh as he stops to look back at him.
Sam smiles, and for a moment Bucky can swear he looks almost grateful to have him back. Although he’s opted to take a break, a long one so that he can build a life with you before he goes back to work, he suddenly feels eager to return and really get to know his new partner.
“Will you come over for dinner next week? Once we’ve had a chance to settle in?” Bucky takes a step towards the three-story townhouse, a lovely pale sandstone exterior with dark gray highlights around the windows and teal front door.
You’d chosen the color specifically and though you didn’t explain it, he knows you’d picked it because it reminded you of the waters around the island.
You had loved your morning swims. It’s only natural that you miss the water if not the isolation. And yet, now that you’ve both been back, he sees you timidity as you walk out into the world and it makes his heart ache.
“Depends.” Sam quips, “You cookin’? I don’t wanna get food poisoning.”
Bucky shakes his head, smiling. “No. Y/N will be cooking. She’s got it all planned and the menu all thought up. She’s pretty excited about having you over actually.”
“Then I’ll definitely be there. Tell her I’m looking forward to it and I hope things are okay with A.I.M.” Sam’s well wishes give Bucky a warm feeling in his chest.
His two worlds are one in this moment and he appreciates the generosity that Sam has had welcoming you into their group.
Bucky wants to keep you as far away from the danger as possible but seeing as you’ve already been blown up on a plane because of him, he’s grown accustomed to the idea that he can’t ever keep you one hundred percent safe. He’ll have to take it day by day.
“Thanks, Sam. That means a lot. I’ll tell her. Hey and uh…maybe you should ask Sharon to come? Y’know…”
Sam quirks an eyebrow, his face full of wonder at Bucky’s audacity.
“…as your date?” He finishes, an amused smile overtaking his handsome face as he turns up and takes the steps two at a time.
“That’s not funny, Barnes!”
“It wasn’t supposed to be!” Bucky calls back then wiggles his eyebrows at Sam as he shuts the door.
Eager to find you, he drops his keys on the unpacked boxes by the door, stripping off his coat slowly as his ears listen intently to the sounds of the house.
The inside is simple, a dark gray concrete floor makes up the foyer that then shifts into stunning dark oak hardwood flooring. The windows are large with thin frames made of black steel. Immediately after the foyer to the right is the living room, two bright red sofas—one full and one loveseat—are pushed against the far wall, an unassembled coffee table half pulled from its box. A rolled up decorative rug lays on top of the larger sofa.
An open concept, the dining room follows the first floor with a decently sized dining table lighter than the floors with mid-century dining chairs in pale peach. Two of them are still wrapped in plastic.
On the other side of the dining table, is the black concrete kitchen island with maple cabinets. A black stainless-steel fridge and matching chef grade six burner stove are already hooked up an in use, a small pot of what smells like alfredo sauce burning and emitting the first puffs of black smoke.
Bucky drops his jacket and races for it, pulling the pot away from the flame then shutting it off.
“Shit…” He sighs, taking the pot to the sink then freezing when he sees cold noodles, all mushed and sticky and obviously overcooked thrown in what he can clearly see is a small fit of frustration from you.
He takes a deep breath, exhaling through his nose as he thinks about what he’ll possibly be able to say to make this day better for you. There has to be something that he can do.
As he waters down the sauce and begins to dump it, he makes up his mind.
He cleans the dishes first, then makes for the fridge to see what else you’ve bought to cook.
He finds the chicken that would have been for the pasta you were making and takes that out along with a few tomatoes, sharp cheddar, and beautiful red and yellow peppers.
Dinner is quick work, and though Bucky isn’t sure what he’s making will be very appetizing, he pours his heart and soul into this meal hoping that it’ll heal a bit of the darkness this day has obviously brought.
He sets the table and as he places the down two wine glasses, he suddenly hears a swell of music upstairs.
It’s beautiful, this melody, and it reminds him of a song that he knows he must have heard. There’s a full string orchestra, woodwinds, and a deep bass below. It all sounds beautiful, something he can’t quite put his finger on, but it’s melancholic and he can only imagine the state you’re in.
Deciding to get you down here before he pulls the wine from the fridge, he heads up the stairs.
The second floor has three bedrooms two on the left and the master on the right with a master bath and the second full bath sharing the same wall.
Although the inner walls of the house are made up of insulated and soundproofed drywall, the walls of each room on the outside are exposed sandstone brick, slightly darker than that of the exterior.
Bucky makes his way to the last door on the right, listening for a moment but the music is coming from the third-floor attic space.
Attic is used as a loose term. The space is actually completely open, nothing within it yet save for the large radio system that you brought from your place. The high-tech turntable is plugged into sturdy speakers that almost make it sound as if the orchestra is in the attic with you.
Bucky steps up onto the landing and spots you standing at the far end staring up at the large skylight as the sky grows darker with dusk’s quick approach. You have your arms wrapped around yourself as if you’re cold, the large sweater you’re wrapped in making you look soft and huggable.
You take his breath away, every time he sees you like this. You’ve always been beautiful but seeing you in clean clothing that isn’t torn or saturated in sea salt makes his heart skip a beat. He likes you looking cared for. You’ve gained a healthy amount of weight since you left the hospital and there is nothing sexier than how you look now.
The stretchy tights you wear underneath your sweater hug your curves tight, thick woolen socks on your feet.
If you hear him come in, you don’t show it. Your hands are clasped around the sleeves of your sweater, clinging tightly as you struggle with whatever you’re thinking.
Bucky needs to know what he can do, but he’s afraid to make it worse.
The only thing he can think of is to hold you, so that’s what he does.
He moves up behind you, waiting a moment before he places his hands on your shoulders then traces them down along the length of your arms. The way you have them crossed also brings his arms around your body.
As you melt against him, Bucky exhales the breath he’d been holding, kissing the side of your head as you shut your eyes and sigh.
“One of the things I hadn’t realized I’d missed being stranded on that island was music.” You tell him, voice conversational despite the grief you seem to still be processing.
“Me too.” Bucky admits, listening to the swell of music with new ears.
It gives him goosebumps.
“I guess things didn’t go well at A.I.M.?” Bucky probes gently, his lips pressed against your head as you continue to watch the sky through the skylight.
“I can’t exactly tell them that I was stranded on an island after my plane blew up.” You shrug. “Honestly, the guy was a pretty big jerk but, he’s right. They couldn’t exactly hold my position for me.”
Bucky sighs deeply, hating the disappointment in your voice. “You’ll find something, kitten. I’ll help you look.”
You shake your head. “I think maybe I should just take some time.”
“I think that’s a very good idea.” Bucky admits, his lips once again pressed to your head. He can’t seem to help himself. He wants to kiss you better, but he knows it’ll only do so much.
Both of you are aware just how much you’re struggling to get used to being back home.
You fall into silence, Bucky’s arms content to hold you.
Oh, shit. Dinner.
“I made you something to eat.” Bucky whispers, then drops his arms as you turn to look at him.
“Shit, the sauce!” You exclaim, fear making your eyes dilate.
“It’s okay, kitten. I took care of it.”
“I’m so sorry, Bucky. I’m so stupid.” You whimper.
“Hey, baby, it’s okay. Alright? Nothing to worry about.” He pulls your hand up to his lips and kisses your knuckles before lacing his fingers through yours to pull you from the room. “What do you think we should do with this space?”
He hopes you can’t see through his attempt to distract you.
“I don’t know.” You admit, looking back up at the space as he pull you down the stairs.
Bucky waits as you think, letting you lead the pace of conversation.
“We could just make it a multipurpose room.” You brainstorm. “You’ll need a gym? And I could use a space for reading.”
Bucky smiles, glad you’ve gotten your mind off your lost A.I.M. job, even if it is for a few moments.
“That sounds like a great idea. I’ll have to get you a nice lounge chair and some bookshelves.” Bucky nods eagerly.
As he pulls you through into the dining room, he lets your hand go to pull out your chair.
“This looks so good, babe.” You gasp, eyeing the cheesy chicken on your plate, laden with tomatoes and peppers. “Thank you so much.”
Bucky watches you sit down, your voice breaking as you thank him and then you’re shoving your hands over your face as you sob.
He doesn’t need you to say anything and there’s nothing he can say to make it better. All he can do is drop to his knees and pull you into his arms, holding you tight as you let the stresses of the day spill out.
You bury your face against his neck, clinging to his shirt tight, somehow making Bucky feel more needed here than you ever did on the island.
“I’ve got you, kitten.” He whispers, squeezing you tight. “I’ve got you.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“What are you going to do today?” Bucky whispers, eyes still shut.
He gives you a fright, making you jump with his sudden question and you turn to hide your face in your pillow as you laugh lightly.
“Holy fuck, Bucky!” You shout into your pillow and feel him shift beside you, his hand moving across your lower back. His hand over the sheets you’re using to cover yourself.
You turn to look at him, biting your bottom lip with playful anger.
“I’m sorry.” He laughs silently, puffs of air as he blinks slowly, like cat. Telling you he loves you without saying anything. “Serves you right for watching me sleep.”
“You’re so pretty though.” You tell him, reaching out to trace his nose from bridge to tip.
“Me?!” He asks, astonished by the news before he throws himself over you, grabbing your wrist as he goes to pin it up above your head.
Settling his weight on you, he breathes in and out heavily, enjoying the feel of you beneath him. With your wrist in his metal grip and his flesh hand squeezing your hip, you chuckle happily, licking your lips.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“If I’m beautiful, what does that make you?”
“Normal?” You wonder, knowing he’ll refute any disparities you make in your self-assessment. He’s biased. He loves you.
“Perfection.” He whispers, and you shake your head because you knew it had been coming.
“Nobody’s perfect, Bucky.”
“You’re perfect for me.” He clarifies, and leans down to kiss your lips slowly, just a peck.
He holds it, staring into your eyes.
“Perfect with me.” He continues.
You smile, perfectly at peace.
“You never answered my question.” Bucky tells you, throwing himself onto his left side, keeping his right arm around your waist.
“What question?” You wonder, reaching over to stroke his hair.
“What are you gonna do today?”
“Oh.” You sigh. “You’re going in today, finally?”
“Just for the day. Getting acquainted with the new headquarters. No missions yet. But soon.” Bucky nods.
“I’m gonna have to get used to being here without you.” You turn onto your side and scoot in close, pressing your nose right up to the tip of his, shutting your eyes in subdued lamentation.
“I’m gonna have to learn to leave you behind too.” Bucky points out. “I’ve gotten used to having you nearby, kitty cat.”
You laugh. Reaching up to stroke his cheek. “You haven’t called me that in a while.”
“Remember when you woke up on the beach? Right after the plane crashed?” Bucky’s brow puckers, a little crease between his steel and ice eyes.
“I remember you yelling at me to move.”
“I didn’t yell.”
“You might as well have.”
“I didn’t know you were so sensitive.”
“Yes you do.”
“Fuck. You’re right, I do.” He chuckles.
“Stop hurting my feelings, Barnes.” You pout.
He laughs, pulling you close again to kiss you.
“Mmm.” He mumbles, “Baby?”
“Yeah?” You pull back, catching your breath and pulling back to look at him.
“Why is it so damn hot in here?”
“I was cold.” You force a smile, too tight, too toothy. A downright look of guilt if ever Bucky saw one. “Too hot?”
“Not yet.” Bucky mutters, crawling over you again, his hands trailing down; one pushes your white long-sleeved shirt up to expose your tummy while his other hand slides down past the waistband of your sleep shorts. “But we can fix that.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Bucky’s exhausted. He didn’t know how much energy it would take to get back into the swing of things.
As he trudges along down the sidewalk, he passes a few people and they kindly look up and smile at him, waving when they recognize him.
His interview after his rescue seems to have changed the mind of most people in the city. He’s no longer the Winter Soldier, but Sergeant Barnes.
“Hi Sergeant Barnes. Nice night?” A lilting voice asks.
He looks up in search of its owner and finds a young brunette walking by him. Dressed in a tight silver cocktail dress with sparkling sequins along the bottom hem of the skirt and a black coat much thinner than she should need in tonight’s cold.
The flirtatious tilt of her head and the sparkle in her eyes leaves him in no doubt of her aim.
“It’ll be much better once I get back home to my girl.” Bucky tells her, turning to walk backwards a few steps as he waves her goodbye.
“Lucky lady.” She tells him, pulling her bag up higher on her shoulder.
“I’m the lucky one. Have a good night, Miss.” Bucky gives her a nod and turns to be on his way.
He’s not sure if it’s wrong that he feels it necessary to mention you whenever a woman pays him this kind of attention. There are plenty who have wished him a good night without the flirting that he carries on conversations with and manages not to bring you up.
It’s almost like he uses you as a shield.
As he reaches the steps of the house, he climbs them quickly and then waits by the door with his hand pressed over his heart.
That girl really made him anxious. He doesn’t like being seen like that. It’s invasive.
When his heart is steadier, he pulls out his keys and lets himself in.
There’s a rush of hot air that chokes him. He coughs, pulling at his collar as he reluctantly shuts the door and its influx of arid air.
He sheds as much of his outer clothes as he can. Blue jacket and the gray sweater beneath it leaving him in a plain red t-shirt.
“What the hell?” He gasps, dropping his outerwear on the floor before locking the door and venturing up the stairs.
The entire first floor is empty. Dark. The smell of whatever you had for lunch still filling the house. Grilled cheese?
“Y/N?” He calls, moving for the bedroom but he finds it empty. “Baby?”
There’s a sudden rush of wind, a flash of lightning from the third-floor stairs, followed by a loud clap of thunder.
It pulls his gaze up and he follows his instinct taking the stairs two at a time.
Since moving in, after spending each day taking care of one room of the house at a time, the attic is no longer empty.
As he reaches the landing, to his left is a small home gym. Each piece picked out by him, a punching bag, mats, weights, treadmill for you if you ever decide to use it. Bucky prefers to run outside.
On the right side of the room, your reading corner. Six shelves at least seven feet tall with a step ladder to reach the higher shelves. There’s a tea table, two comfortable padded chairs, and another deep enough that you could curl into it and sit all day reading without needing to get up.
There’s a reading lamp and a colorful carpet to make the space cozier and on across a small coffee table a lounging sofa for Bucky to lay on when you’re reading and he just wants to be by you.
On the far side of the room, directly under the skylight, he spots you on a platform bed you’d had set up for what Bucky had thought was sky-watching. He can see that he was right.
Your eyes are trained on the sky above, thunder clouds flashing and echoing around the house.
Around the bed you’ve set up what looks like a semi-circle of potted trees. A mixture of four-foot palms and Cycas, all surrounding the head of the bed.
Without a word Bucky makes his way towards you, stripping down to his briefs as he goes. When he reaches the bed, he finds you also in your underwear, sheets tossed aside as you lay with your head against the pillows and your eyes trained on the window.
He crawls in, stopping over you for just a moment to smile down at you and lean down to kiss your lips.
Your hands come up to caress his ears, then up to the back of his head.
“You cut your hair.” You observe, a glint in your eye that tells him you like what you see.
He lays beside you, looking up to see what you see, and he finds a strange sense of calm fall over him.
Placing his hands on his chest, he relaxes and then reaches down to take one of yours.
“So, this is what you’ve been up to with the trees?”
“Something didn’t feel right.” You admit. “I think I found the answer.”
The heat, the sound of thunder, the lightning overhead, and now with the jade leaves of these trees filling his line of sight, bucky can almost see himself back on the island. Back when it was just them and no one in the world could hurt either of you. Where life was much simpler. Wilder. And just a bit quieter.
Even though things have gotten better, this feels like the world of two where your love was born and nurtured.
“This is amazing.” Bucky admires, giving your hand a squeeze. “I think we should get married.”
You turn to look at him, eyes wide.
“Too soon?” He checks, turning to look at you too. “Marry me, kitten.”
Bucky watches you turn onto your side. He mirrors you, wrapping his arm around you.
“Whadya say?” He waits, heart pounding despite his calm exterior.
He feels your hand trail down his side, tracing the side of his thigh before you bring it around to his butt then without warning give his left cheek a nice squeeze.
“Not the left side!” He yelps.
“I will!” You agree, giddy and the happiest Bucky has ever seen you.
Somewhere past the burn of the spot where Sam had pierced him with that implant gun, past the pain and the throbbing, Bucky realizes you’ve just agreed to be his wife.
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moonnightyoongi · 3 years
Text
puzzle piece | jk
Tumblr media
pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: angst, angst, ANGST
word count: 1.8k
description: you just seemed to fit like a puzzle piece
                                     ✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
You don’t really remember where or how it started. The desire to love, to be loved. Of course, it is simply human nature, the ancient thought that when you are made you are split in two and you spend your life searching for your other half. Except in this day and age that is a thing of the past for some, they simply spend their life by themselves and they enjoy it. But where does that desire go? Surely it just doesn’t disappear – perhaps theirs gets projected onto the one that comes after them. The double desire to find and be loved. The double desire that eats away at them all night and is quickly put on the back burner during the day when they find a measly distraction. If that’s the case, then you are the one that came after. Growing up you were not deprived of love; your parents loved every bone of you, and you had a fair share of friends who would do anything to see you smile. But it all started when you hit the age of dating, everyone seemed to have it so easy, but you always went for the wrong guy or the guy who loved another or you were simply left alone in the corner of the dance while everyone slowed danced and the teachers watched with hawk eyes to make sure they didn’t get too close. No really. 9th grade, the boy who had asked you conveniently got back with his ex while you went to the toilet, and worst of all you couldn’t go cry in the toilets because you had just come out of them!
All your friends say your time will come. But it’s easy for them to tell you all the cliché things when they had met the perfect partner for them. They were happy and content, living in a world where they don’t need to think about anyone else because they had each other. No dating apps, no more awkward first dates, no more unanswered texts, no late-night cries when you receive the ‘you’re great but…’ texts. Just blissfully unaware of the hell on earth that is dating for people who don’t have it as easy as they do.
Jealousy. It’s hard not to be jealous when you go to their house warmings, or their dinner parties or that one engagement party. It’s hard. Sure, you were happy for them, because at least they weren’t feeling the hell and the social pressure to not be alone for the rest of your life. They don’t get the judgemental looks from the bitchy aunt that definitely didn’t have a rushed marriage when she was your age because she was pregnant (definitely didn’t happen – your cousin was 100% premature).
You hear about love languages and how everyone has a specific one, everyone said they knew yours from a mile away – words of affirmation. ‘You constantly need to hear that someone loves you or that they’re proud or that they haven’t changed their mind. Isn’t it tiring?’. Yes, it was extremely tiring, tiring to be constantly trying to tell yourself that you’re being foolish, and they do still love you and they are proud - yet still having the nagging feeling in the back of your mind that it’s all a lie.
“Any dates lined up?” Yuki asks as she scrolls through her phone.
You sigh and put down your drink, “No. I’m done.”
“You said that year and then met that awful dude that thought he was better than you,” Anastasia chimed in.
“He was better than me,” you reply thinking of the doctor and all his PhD’s. Sure, he was an awful person who liked to bring up just how many he had but he had every right to, he had earnt them.
“Just because he had a few pieces of paper doesn’t mean he’s better than you. You have a personality, he didn’t.” Anastasia scoffs stirring her coffee.
You shrug your shoulders as you look out the window, “He’s engaged now.”
“Poor girl,” Yuki laughs putting down her phone, “Does she have any degrees?”
Yuki and Anastasia laugh at the memory of you introducing your ex and him straight away asking if they had any sort of degree between them. Looking back, it made you feel sick to your stomach, he was so rude, and you were so desperate.
“PhD.” You reply.
“Just the one?!” Yuki exclaims, “Disgusting!”
They both laugh once more as you sat silently staring at the half empty coffee expressionless. It was easy to joke about exes when they weren’t yours.
“Listen, a new guy started at my work and he is so much like you I wanna set you two up,” Anastasia says.
“I don’t know, remember the last set up?” you point out. He was a whole foot smaller than you and at one point you had to help him reach something from the second shelf in the supermarket. Ironically, he didn’t want to meet again because you were too small.
“That was my mistake, I didn’t realise he wanted a 6ft girl,” Anastasia tells you, “Come on! He’s lovely, he’s taller than me and the other day he split coffee down himself.”
“So that means he’s perfect for me?”
“A match made,” she smiles, “Please!”
“I’d just do it; how bad could it be?” Yuki points out as you fumbled with your jumper.
“Getting shouted at in aisle 5 because you couldn’t reach the top shelf bad,” you joke. They both burst out into laughter once more as you sighed and watched the rain fall to the ground outside the coffee shop.
“Fine,” you sigh, “What’s his name?”
“Jungkook,” Anastasia smiles.
~.♥ ~
The lead up to the date was the worst, Anastasia constantly went on about how clumsy he was and how perfect you would be together – her favourite story was him walking into the glass door and simply shaking it off before going into a meeting. With every new story it bought up a sense of hope – but even you knew this was dangerous. For what one thinks is cute and endearing another finds childish and immature. What if he wasn’t as cute and as clumsy as Anastasia constantly explained – what if it was because he saw someone cute in the office and got distracted and he was now using you to make her jealous.
“Stop overthinking,” Yuki demands snapping you out of your thoughts.
“How did you-?”
“I’ve known you far too long. You’re either overthinking or over romanticising.”
You smile sadly before looking back into the mirror and applying some more blush. Maybe it was all the fairy tales growing up that made you this way, or maybe it was the tv shows. Either way they had both set you up for failure.
“Jungkook is on his way to the restaurant. It’s under my name,” Anastasia smiles walking into the room with her phone in hand, “Tae said good luck!”
“So does Jae,” Yuki smiles.
“I need it,” you mutter standing up and fixing your dress, “What do I do if he doesn’t show?”
“He’s on his way,” Anastasia sighs.
“What if he goes to the wrong restaurant?”
“They won’t seat him because my name won’t be on the list of reservations.”
“What if they don’t do reservations?” you challenge.
“You’re annoying me. He’s on his way to the right restaurant where he will give in my name and will be seated waiting for you.”
“But-,”
“Stop! Get in the taxi,” Anastasia shouts cutting you off. You drop your head as you walk down the stairs sheepishly. Anything could happen, you could arrive before him and he could look at you and change his mind. He could arrive before you and when you walk in scream and run out the back entrance. Everything was a possibility.
“Anastasia,” you smile nervously to the hostess.
“This way, your party is waiting for you,” she smiles kindly. Party? How many where here? Did Anastasia set up a conveyer belt to give you your best shot? You don’t think you could handle multiple rejections in one night.
Walking into the dining room you spotted him straight away. He was staring out the window, his leg twitching under the table – so much so he knocked over the pepper. His red face made you flutter and as you got closer the butterflies became more and more active. He was as clumsy as Anastasia had described and a lot cuter than she had as well.
“Your table,” the hostess smiles placing the menu down and walking away.
“Y/N,” Jungkook smiles standing up quickly, “I’m Jungkook!”
“Hi, nice to meet you,” you smile pulling the chair out.
“I should have pulled your chair out for you, shouldn’t I?” he wonders aloud.
“No, because if you couldn’t push it back in, I’d probably overheat with embarrassment,” you laugh pulling your chair in and hitting your hip on the table, “Fuck!”
The restaurant stares at you as you held back anymore swearing.
“Very hard table,” Jungkook jokes before they resume, “Are you okay?”
“I’ve got shivers.”
“You’ll have a bruise tomorrow,” he laughs as you finally sit down.
“I bruise so easily; my whole left side will be.”
“My friend is the same, he once caught his ankle on the door and couldn’t wear a shoe for weeks. The whole thing was swollen. He used all the ice in my freezer too,” Jungkook laughs.
“What about the ice in his freezer?”
“We live together so I guess he used all of his too,” he replied.
You laugh loudly as you opened the menu, all the anxiety had melted away when he smiled in your direction.
~.♥ ~
Days had turned into months and months had turned into a year. There was something about him that was so different from everyone you had met before. Nothing you did was ever childish or embarrassing and the same for him. You two just seemed to fit like a puzzle piece. He made you laugh, he made you feel safe, he made sure you knew he loved you. Whether it was by sending you a midday message when you were in work, or whether it was a cheesy video of him kissing the screen. He would bring ramen when you were stressed, and alcohol when it was time to celebrate. You would attend parties together and would spend all night dancing, drinking and laughing. You finally felt happy when attending engagement parties, housewarming parties and everything else that used to fill your social calendar with dread.
It’s just a shame it was all a lie.
masterlist | tell me what you think
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girlboss-molina · 3 years
Text
Be Who You Are (No Compromise)
A Julie and the Phantoms Modern Royalty AU
Chapter 1: Introductions
AO3 Link
Words: 5543
-----
Alex POV
...
Of course. 
Of fucking course.
He’d known it was coming, yeah, but that didn’t change the fact that, despite his friendship with Princess Julie, Alex had no desire to marry her. And now, after begging not to be married off, he was still stuck in this deal.
It had nothing to do with Julie herself, of course; Julie was a kind, loving, musical girl around his age. The issue was that he was gay. Marrying a girl was not something he was interested in. 
Julie knew Alex was gay; he’d come out to her after he was sure she would accept him, which he knew she would after she mentioned her best friend being a lesbian, and her being bisexual herself. Needless to say, neither of them had been thrilled by the announcement a couple years back that they would be getting married, for more reasons than the fact that nobody wants to be in an arranged marriage. 
And now, in three months time, he would be at the alter with a girl he wasn’t in love with. 
Alex knew it wouldn’t be that bad; in fact, he and Julie were quite close friends. Their kingdoms, Tambor and Dahlia respectively, were close allies. But for some godforsaken reason, their leaders had felt the need to strengthen their allyship by setting up their heirs in an arranged marriage. Had Alex been the oldest, this wouldn’t have been the case. However, it wouldn’t be him, but his older sister, Ava, taking the throne of Tambor. 
He, along with his guards, would be travelling to Dahlia this evening. He hated that it was so soon. Not that he wasn’t excited to see Julie, he was, but it was the reason that put a knot in his stomach.
Alex allowed himself one more panic attack before getting ready. As a treat.
The warm sun streaming into his room felt out of place with the dread settling in his stomach, and his breath choked, his heart racing, salty tears streaming down his face. He clenched his hands into fists and back out, trying to calm himself despite the emotional release. His nails dug into his palm, not hard enough to cut, but enough to leave little indents that he then ran his fingertips across. 
Trying to pull himself together, he stood - albeit shakily - and walked across the soft, carpeted floor to his full-length mirror, pleasantly surprised as he noted that he wasn’t as big of a mess as he’d expected, given his previous panic. 
A knock on his door alerted him that his head butler was there to help him get ready for the jet ride.
“Your highness, are you alright?”
Alex didn’t answer, grateful for Luke’s steady voice outside his door.
“He’s a little panicky at the moment. Maybe give him a few minutes to settle?” he suggested, and Alex hoped Luke was receiving the strong thank you vibes he was trying to transmit telepathically. 
Any time Alex had a panic attack, he was semi-verbal. He could speak if he really, really tried, but it generally took a great deal of effort. He and Luke had a system, though; if Alex needed support during a panic attack, he would fake-sneeze three times, and Luke would come in from his station outside Alex’s door. 
Alex allowed himself another minute to calm his breathing and wipe the tears from his face, practicing the grounding exercise Julie had taught him. 
Inhale- 1, 2, 3, 4
Hold- 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Exhale- 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
It helped a lot, and soon he was able to straighten his hair and begin changing into the suit his tailors had made just for this occasion. 
Another knock echoed from his door, and Alex took one final deep breath to compose himself. 
“Come in,” he said, proud of how steady his voice was. 
The butler entered; a kind man named Erik, who Alex had gotten to know over the past month or so. His olive skin shone in the afternoon light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. 
Alex dressed himself, for the most part; having butlers help him dress was never something he particularly enjoyed. He allowed Erik to smooth his white dress shirt, though; no matter how many times Alex had practiced tucking in his shirts, they always ended up wrinkled. 
He slid the navy suit vest over the shirt once it was nice and smooth, fastening the thick buttons over his stomach. Minimalistic gold embroidery on the vest sparkled in the light, and Alex couldn’t help but smile at the bit of flair. He’d been half-hoping that his matching navy pants would have a bit of sparkle as well, but to no avail. Probably for the best, he decided. Just a little touch was enough. 
He fixed the cuff of his sleeve, taking a breath as Erik reached up with a comb to fix his hair. It was simple but refined, how it always was. 
“Erik, you’ve outdone yourself with this one, bro!” Alex said excitedly. He might not be very pleased about being in an arranged marriage, but he could appreciate a good suit. “I love the details.”
“I’m glad you like it!” Erik beamed with the praise. “May I?” he asked, reaching for Alex’s shoulders. Alex nodded, and Erik smoothed the vest’s warm fabric, readjusting the hem until it was aligned perfectly. 
He might not have been the type of guy to always wear suits, unless necessary, but Alex had to admit it. He looked good. The slim fit outlined his muscles, and the deep blue of the vest and pants brought out the bluish tints in his blue-green-grey eyes. (nobody could seem to decide what color they actually were). The small touches of golden embroidery shone and somehow managed to accentuate the sun-born highlights in his hair. 
“You look wonderful, your highness.”
“Thanks, Erik. And you can call me Alex, we’re chill.” Alex had been insisting to Erik that he could be casual around him for months, but Erik still generally referred to him as “your highness.”
“Alex,” he corrected with a broad smile. “Well, Alex, you have a photoshoot for the press in ten minutes, so if there’s anything else I can do to get you ready, don’t hesitate to ask. Though I must say, you look awesome.” Alex let out a small laugh. 
“Thanks, dude. Oh, wait, before you go, could you tell me something?”
“Of course,” Erik replied. Alex put on his Serious Face.
“Do these pants make my butt look big?” Erik bust out laughing, and Alex couldn’t help but do the same. 
...
Three hours later, Alex was finally done with an exhaustive photoshoot. He hated having his picture taken; add that to the list of anxieties. He had to make sure he looked perfect, or everything could go wrong; that was what his parents had drilled into him from the moment he had his first real photoshoot. 
Of course, he still had to endure an interview with the Tambor Times Magazine, which he was dreading. Speaking to an overeager journalist with no respect for privacy was never something he looked forward to. 
“What are your thoughts on the marriage that has been arranged between you and Her Royal Highness, Princess Julie of Dahlia?” Alex cleared his throat.
“It’s definitely a unique situation,” he started. “I mean, not every nineteen-year-old is part of an arranged marriage.” He did his best to keep his voice light, and it must’ve worked, because the journalist gave a laugh and moved on. 
“If I may, what is your current relationship with her?”
“The princess and I share a close bond,” was the only answer he gave. “If you’ll excuse me, I must be going,” he added. “I have a flight to catch.” He grinned - He didn’t have to catch any flight. He would be on the royal family private jet. But the journalist smiled and shook his hand, instructing him to have a wonderful evening, and he did the same. 
The bit about catching a flight wasn’t entirely false, though; soon, he had wished his parents a good evening and boarded the jet with his suitcases, hoping to leave his anxiety in Tambor.
-----
Julie POV
...
So.
Here’s the thing. 
Julie liked Alex, she really did. He was one of her closest friends (princesses don’t get out much). But he was gay, And Julie was decidedly Not A Guy. Plus, they both knew their connection was strongest platonically, anyway. 
Of course, none of that matters in diplomacy. 
Julie had tried many, many times to get out of the arranged marriage. But she’d just turned eighteen, and Alex nineteen, and apparently their kingdoms had no such qualms about marrying off teenagers. 
At least her dad, King Ray, had tried to get her out of it. But even as king, there was only so much he could do; everybody except for him thought it was a grand idea, because Of Course They Did. And once the public had heard the news, when she was sixteen, Julie couldn’t look out her window without seeing photographers outside the palace gates for a week. 
She supposed there was nothing she could do about it now, though, no matter how much she wanted to, for her sake and Alex’s. 
At least he was someone she got along with well. She knew they would never be in love, for multiple reasons, but she wouldn’t be unhappy. Alex might, though. They’d stayed up late on many a night, him rambling about cute guys he’d seen amongst the palace staff or on his occasional trip to the city, her chatting about songs she’d been writing and the one guy she’d had a crush on, Nick. 
Nick was the son of a nobleman her dad was very close with, and they were good friends, but she’d never acted on her little crush. Her feelings for Nick hadn’t really gone anywhere, it was just a lingering crush she’d had for a few years, but one that had faded with time.
Julie sighed, smoothing out her dress. It was simple but elegant, with a little bit of Julie flair. The silky violet fabric was cut in a slim fit to her waist, before gently flaring outwards towards her ankles. Off-the-shoulder straps revealed the dark skin of her shoulders, and the pearly embroidery of dahlia flowers around her waist shone in the light, tapering off as she twirled, though as she practiced her camera smile, it didn’t reach her eyes. 
Alex was her friend, but neither of them wanted to get married. But she’d tried her hardest to get them out of it, to no avail. 
So, as she sat down at her vanity, Julie closed her eyes and reminded herself the words her mother used to tell her every time she was scared. 
It’ll all be okay, Jules. You’re strong, and you’re a diamond in the rough.
The words settled her stomach a little bit. 
Her lady-in-waiting, Mira, knocked on her door. 
“Come in,” Julie said. Mira bustled in, her flaming red hair pulled into a messy bun, her brown eyes sparkling. 
“Oh, Jules, you look lovely.” Julie smiled.
“Thanks, Mira. How’s my hair?” Julie reached up to smooth her curls, which had been combed back and woven into a thick, braided knot at the base of her neck.  
“Almost perfect, but it needs a little something,” Mira decided with a smirk. Julie had no idea what Mira had in mind, but she knew she would love it. 
Before either of them could say another word, Flynn walked into Julie’s room, followed by her girlfriend, Carrie. 
“Hey, underachiever,” Flynn greeted with a smile.
“Hey, disappointment!”
“Dude,” Flynn said, a serious look on her face. “That dress is the shit!” Carrie nodded enthusiastically. 
“A definite look.”
“Thanks guys,” Julie said with a grin. “I love it, too! Mira’s got some sort of magic in her hands, because this is one of my favorites for sure.” Mira blushed. 
“Well, I’m not quite done,” she admitted. “Jules, your color scheme is pink, purple, and blue, usually, right?”
“Yeah, usually! I can always get behind some other colors, though.”
“Of course. But I think for this dress, the pink-purple-blue scheme would fit the best.”
“Definitely,” Carrie jumped in. “The purple mediates the pink and blue, so those are like side accents.” 
“I like this one,” Mira decided, pointing at Carrie. Carrie flipped her hair and smiled. “But yes. So, I was thinking for your hair, we could weave in some thin ribbons in those colors? It would be super simple, wouldn’t even have to take it out and restyle it.”
“Work your magic,” Julie instructed. Mira grinned excitedly and set to work, sitting Julie down at the vanity.
“Okay, Jules,” Flynn sighed. “I know you don’t want me to ask this, but are you doing okay?” Carrie took Flynn’s arm and nodded. “I know this isn’t what you wanted. Either of you.”
“I’ll be fine,” Julie decided. She didn’t want to marry Alex, and she knew he felt the same way. “At least it’s not somebody I hate, though. Alex and I get along really well.”
“I know,” Carrie added. “But that doesn’t mean you have to be okay.” A single tear rolled down Julie’s cheek, and she was grateful she hadn’t done her makeup yet.
“Thanks. To be honest, I’m not really okay, but I’ll live. And besides, it’s not for another three months. And having another friend around for a few months will be nice. Before, you know, I have to marry him.” Flynn let out a sad laugh. 
“If I may add my input,” Mira began, “I’ve always hated the prospect of arranged marriages. At the very least, both people should have to agree with it.” Julie nodded, quickly stopping when she felt the ribbons Mira was weaving into her hair tug. “Sorry,” she added. “I’ll be done in just a moment.”
“I agree,” Carrie said. “It’s stupid. Dahlia and Tambor are already allies, so why are they even doing this?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest. My dad says it’s to ‘strengthen agreeability between our separate civilians.’ But at least tried to get me out of it,” she added. “King Xavier and Queen Claire both thought it was a great idea.” Julie had always held some bitterness towards Alex’s parents, given their closed-mindedness and apathy towards minorities and less fortunate people. Alex had always felt the same, and avoided coming out to them for those reasons. 
“Well, I personally think it’s homophobic that my best friend is being forced to be part of an arranged marriage,” Flynn decided, “because I’m gay and it annoys me. Plus, you know, she doesn’t want to be part of it.” Julie couldn’t help but laugh at that, as did Mira. 
“All done with the ribbons,” she said, handing Julie a mirror to see the back of her head. 
“Oh, Mira, I love it!” The ribbons were braided through her thick hair, swooping around the knot, twisting through her own curls and holding the hairstyle together perfectly. Both pretty and practical. 
“I’m glad!” Mira looked very proud of herself, for a good reason. Julie’s lady-in-waiting was definitely a woman to be admired (and feared - she’d taken down a full-grown man in a self defense class, while wearing heels). Julie could walk in heels, even run in them, but she’d tried fighting in them, and failed miserably. She might’ve been competent fighting in regular shoes, but heels were a different story. Mira, though, could do it all. 
Mira’s phone dinged. 
“Oh, Jules, it’s time for the pre-meetup photoshoot!”
“Got it. Thanks, Mira, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Forget about your photoshoots, probably.”
The photoshoot involved lots of candid shots of her in the garden, doing her best to look serene, and not show the anxiety bubbling in her stomach. But somehow, she actually managed to get through it without losing it. 
“Wonderful, miss. Turn towards me, look to your left- yes, perfect.” The photographer’s voice faded as she obeyed his instructions, a human robot running correctly but with wandering thoughts. 
“You look so natural, miss!” he complimented. Julie offered a smile, returning to her thoughts. There had to be a way to get her and Alex out of this. But she couldn’t think of any that wasn’t treasonous, illegal, or flat-out stupid. Of course, as a teenage girl, she felt she deserved to be a little stupid sometimes, but apparently that was “unbecoming of a princess” and “a bad influence.” Personally, she just thought that was biphobic.
-----
Luke POV
...
Luke hadn’t ever traveled much, let alone to a neighboring kingdom, so needless to say, he was pumped to get to visit Dahlia for three months at least. His hope was that, even though no one involved wanted the marriage to happen, they could find a bright side in him getting to stay with his best friend. 
Of course, that didn’t change the fact that he felt bad for his charge and best friend, Alex. He knew Alex was gay; in fact, they’d “dated” for a few weeks when they were fourteen. But even after deciding they were better as friends, they were close, maybe even closer afterwards. Luke told Alex everything; he didn’t know if he had a secret that Alex didn’t know. 
Everyone in the palace was used to seeing him and Alex wandering the grounds, goofing off, messing around in the music studio, what have you. Technically, Luke was a junior guardsman, and given his bond with the prince, had been assigned (along with an actual guard) to be his security detail. That had evolved into an even stronger friendship, though. Years passed, and soon they were inseparable. 
Luke had done his best to cheer up Alex; seeing his best friend that upset was heartbreaking. But there was nothing he could actually do to help, so he settled for laying next to Alex on the floor and staring at the high ceilings.
An hour passed, and soon the afternoon sun was streaming into Alex’s room. Luke saw Alex drag a hand down his face. 
“I guess you should start getting ready, then?” he asked.
“Probably.” Luke patted his shoulder. “Do you think it would be too drastic to fake my death?” Luke laughed, knowing Alex was joking, though it wouldn’t have actually surprised him. Alex and Julie were friends, but neither of them wanted to get married. Especially not the gay guy, very publicly, to a girl. 
Luke stood up, giving Alex a mock salute, and walked out the door, closing it behind him. 
He stood there for a few minutes, straightening his back as a senior guardsman passed him. He ducked his head in a nod, relaxing a moment later. As much as he might’ve come off as a chill guy, he was worried for Alex; even more so when he heard Alex’s breathing quicken from the other side of the wall, his footsteps pacing back and forth. 
The panic attack shouldn’t have surprised him. Alex had clinical anxiety, and this was probably one of the most stress-inducing times of his life. Being forced into an arranged marriage - even if you’re friends with the other person - is no fun for anybody. And today he would be going to the Dahlia palace to stay for three months before the ceremony.
Luke fiddled with the hem of his jacket; it was charcoal black, and thick and protective, with eight buttons on the wide front, crossing his chest. He’d gotten used to it, but despite that, he still started sweating in the warm weather of Tambor. The red sash crossing over the jacket had golden embroidery on the edges, and he quite enjoyed running his fingers over the textured thread. 
Luke could still hear Alex panicking, but there were no sets of three fake sneezes in between the rapid breaths, so he stayed. Alex was able to recognize when he needed support, and when he needed to be left alone. 
Luke spotted Erik nearing him. He couldn’t stop him, but Erik was aware of Alex’s anxiety, so Luke wasn’t concerned. He smiled at Erik, giving him a look, warning him that Alex was having a panic attack. Erik nodded, knocking gently on the door. 
“Your highness, are you alright?” When Alex didn’t respond, Luke jumped in. 
“He’s a little panicky at the moment. Maybe give him a few minutes to settle?” Erik nodded, and Luke gave a relieved smile. 
“You look nervous as well,” Erik noted. 
“Well, I am, a little bit,” Luke admitted. “I’ve never been to Dahlia, but I’m going with Alex since I’m his head guard and Royal Best Dude™.” Erik grinned. “I’m excited, though! I bet it’ll be a lot of fun.”
“I’m so jealous,” Erik told him. “I’ve never been outside of Tambor.”
“I’m worried for Alex, though. He’s really nervous.”
“Yeah,” Erik agreed, a flicker of understanding rushing across his face that made Luke smile despite himself. If he was being honest, Luke had a tiny crush on Erik, but nothing substantial. “I mean, it’s gotta suck being closeted to everyone but a few people, and having to marry a girl.” Luke nodded. 
“I wish there was something we could do about it.”
Luke stood guard off-camera while Alex had his pre-meetup photoshoot and interview. It was what he always did, though this time it felt different, like he was a silent supporter during a tough time, now more than ever. 
If nothing else, he could reassure Alex that he looked fabulous in his suit - it wasn’t a lie, either. The navy blue fabric complimented his eyes perfectly, and the golden details were a stunning addition. Tie that with his sharp jaw and awkward, endearing personality? Anybody would simp for him. He had a feeling that many people did, too; Some of Alex’s best photos from these shoots would be printed in the Tambor Times Magazine, and he would also post some - as well as his own selfies - on his instagram. Luke had seen the comments, and always smirked at Alex given the amount of heart-eyed emojis and key smashes there were. 
Luke stood behind the cameraman for the candid shots where they needed Alex to be smiling or laughing. No matter how much he practiced, Alex could never get a good candid smile, so Luke took it upon himself to stand behind the photographer making faces, or occasionally imitating their every move with mock seriousness. 
When Alex’s musical laugh rang through the air, Luke patted himself on the back. 
Worked every time. 
He worked his magic for a few more shots afterwards, doing his best to make Alex laugh. It wasn’t just for the photos, though, it was to help him settle down. Luke knew this was a horrible situation, but there was nothing he could do to stop it, so he’d have to try to make it more bearable. 
After Alex’s interview, Luke could tell that the reality of the situation was hitting him even more, as a flicker of fear shadowed his face, his hands clenched into fists. Luke walked towards him slowly, making sure Alex was okay with it, and when he didn’t retract, he put his hand on his shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze.
“It’ll be okay,” he promised. And as Alex seemed to relax, nodding and pulling Luke into a hug, that was when he knew.
Alex was his best friend, and didn’t deserve any of this pain or fear. He deserved for things to be okay.
Luke would keep that promise, no matter what.
-----
Reggie POV
...
Reggie knew he was Princess Julie’s honorary older brother; it had been that way for years, after he ran away from his own pathetic excuse for a home. He was lucky King Ray was a kind man; he could’ve just as easily left him there where he’d found him, a nine-year-old in the street of the raining Dahlia capital city. But he’d taken Reggie in, and soon, Reggie was part of the royal family, even if not by blood. 
Now, given that he was Julie’s honorary older brother, he hated that she was being put into an arranged marriage. She was eighteen, for God’s sake! Reggie was nineteen, and knew for a fact he wouldn’t have been able to handle it nearly as gracefully as she did. Then again, while she was young, playful, and vibrant, Julie was also the epitome of grace and poise; she’d grown up in a palace, after all. 
Needless to say, though, Reggie was sure he wouldn’t be able to not be protective of Julie when Prince Alexander came. He’d met him before, but only briefly; in passing after dinner during visits, mostly. It did help Reggie’s nerves to remember that Alexander was a very sweet, reserved person from his own interactions with the man. But that was his little sister, and while she wasn’t completely devastated, Reggie knew she didn’t want it to happen. 
He dragged a hand down his face, flopping down on his bed. He wanted so badly to help Julie out of this, but he couldn’t. 
Hey, at least he could cheer her up with his jokes! She always said they were awful, but Reggie knew better. Only the finest of jokes could make Her Royal Highness, Princess Julie Molina of Dahlia, laugh until her sides hurt, even coming from her honorary older brother, Sir Reginald Molina. 
He smiled to himself. He might not be able to stop this whole predicament, but he could help her through it.
Reggie hopped up, fixing his suit. The silky red fabric of the vest hadn’t creased at all, nor had his grey suit pants, and yet he still felt the need. He did, however, roll the sleeves of his black dress shirt to expose his forearms, because come on. Even with Dahlia’s cool climate, he still got hot, especially when the sun was streaming through his windows, and he had a few photos outside before Prince Alexander’s arrival. Plus, it didn’t hurt that, according to his Instagram followers, the rolled sleeves made him look “personable” and “hotter than the sun.” 
Reggie ran a finger over the shimmering black embroidery of the vest, then winking at the mirror and pulling his best finger guns. It was his god-given right as a fancy bisexual. 
He ran his hand through his expertly-styled hair, letting some of his waves free from their stiff hold. It wasn’t the perfect style it had been when his butler styled it a couple hours ago, but it was more of his own style, which he liked a bit better. Spinning on his heel and slipping a hand in his pocket, Reggie walked out his door and down the light-filled corridor, down to the front steps, waving to Mira along the way. As he stepped outside, he heard people outside of the palace gates start shouting. He gave a wink and playful salute, even daring to blow a kiss in the general direction of a cute girl. He noticed Julie rolling her eyes, the photographer seizing the moment to take some shots of him on the palace steps. 
He jogged over to Julie, wrapping his arm around her. 
“How are you doing, your highness?”
“I’m doing okay,” she said, though both of them knew it was a lie. “How about you, Reg?”
“I’m okay as well. Just popping in to see my fangirls-” he winked at the crowd behind the gate, and a chorus of teenage girls (and a few boys) all sighed dreamily- “and check on you. We both know you’re lying.” Julie groaned.
“This whole thing just sucks.”
“Tell me about it,” he agreed. “But I’ll be here for you every step of the way. You know that, right dude?”
“You’re such a sappy loser,” she told him, and he put her in a playful headlock, posing for the camera.
“I know.” Reggie might’ve been a “sappy loser” of a brother, but he knew that, in Julie’s book, he was a sappy loser (affectionate), and that she understood that he was there for her. 
Hopefully that would be enough. 
-----
Willie POV
...
Willie had never actually gotten to know Princess Julie, but he’d met her a couple times. He was a chef in the palace kitchens, and on occasion, Julie would come down to try to get to know people. He’d never truly had a long conversation with her, but in the interactions they’d had, she was kind, and had a musical air to her. 
He’d seen pictures of the prince she was set to marry, Prince Alexander of Tambor. If Willie was being honest, he was kind of cute.
Okay, really cute. 
He’d never actually met the guy, but he seemed nice. His photos on Instagram had good vibes, at least. Willie couldn’t help but hope he’d get to meet him when he came to visit. If it was just because his brain was screaming cute boy, that was nobody’s business but his. 
Willie sprinkled more flour on the dough he was kneading, folding it in some more. It was cathartic, this repetitive motion. It helped calm his ADHD sometimes. He kept going.
Sprinkle. Fold. Roll.
Sprinkle. Fold. Roll.
Kneading the dough until it wasn’t sticky, he listened to the head chef, Lilian, shout orders at the rest of them. She was a very intimidating woman, tall and muscular, with raven black hair in a sleek ponytail, and fair skin flecked with flour. But she was quite kind, Willie had come to learn over the years. She was just one of those people who scared you if you didn’t know them. 
He put the dough in a pan, setting it in the oven and flicking on the light so he could monitor its progress, as could anyone else walking by. Wiping the flour from his hands to his apron, he then put his dishes and utensils in the giant dishwasher, finally washing his hands and grabbing a new bowl. 
Tonight was the welcome feast for Prince Alexander. Willie and a few others were in charge of baking loaves of bread for the appetizers, as well as making the desserts; today, mini chocolate mousse cakes. 
Dessert was always Willie’s favorite course to prepare, and not just because he could steal bits of frosting from the spatulas after he was finished. It was also because of how making desserts seemed to put everyone in the kitchens in a good mood. Maybe it was the smell of rising sugar, or the bright colors of the tubs of sprinkles, but he adored it. 
He cracked the eggs into the mixture of butter and sugar, adding the milk and flour soon after. As he poured in the cocoa powder, a little bit poofed up, creating a chocolatey cloud. The noise of the mixture did nothing to silence his racing thoughts, though. 
Would he get to meet Prince Alexander?
Would he like him?
And most importantly, why did he want to so badly? 
Willie shook his head, doling the batter into mini cake pans and tapping them on the counter to get rid of any air bubbles, sticking them in an oven after it beeped to temperature. 
Another oven beeped.
“Hey, Alyssa?” he called to a plump woman a few meters away. “Could you check on the bread in that oven to your right?” She nodded and leaned down, giving him a thumbs up.
“Probably needs another minute or so, but it looks great.”
“Sick, thanks!” Alyssa nodded and smiled, her dyed-purple hair shimmering in its bun. 
Willie grabbed the ingredients he would need for the mousse, arranged them on the counter, then jogged over to the other oven and pulled out the bread - without putting on oven mitts.
He hissed in pain but didn’t let go, quickly putting it on the stovetop and running to a sink to run his fingers under cold water.
Willie already had tons of scars and calluses on his hands, both from cooking and skateboarding on his off-days, so the burn didn’t hurt nearly as bad as it would’ve a few years ago. And by some miracle, it didn’t blister - though it did swell and turn red. Willie cursed under his breath, heading to the first-aid kit and smearing some ointment on it and covering it with a bandage. 
“Let me guess,” said Lilian from behind him. “You forgot oven mitts again?”
“Guilty,” he said with a grin. Lilian sighed, but didn’t manage to hide her smile. 
“Willie, you need to be more careful. I know your brain always has, like twenty thoughts going at all times, but you could hurt yourself.”
“Twenty-three,” he corrected. “And I know, but you only live once, and I didn’t want the bread to burn.”
“Five seconds to grab a mitt wouldn’t burn the bread.”
“Hey, there’s a first time for everything.” Lilian rolled her eyes and gently swatted him on the shoulder. It wasn’t a mean move, of course, it was her saying she was exasperated but that she cared about you. Willie laughed and went back to his mixing bowl, getting ready to prepare the mousse.
This would be perfect.
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torivikachu · 3 years
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I was just listening to Hamilton AGAIN - yeah I just put it on while working all the time - and it just hit me how really relatable Hamilton (or I mean, Lin-Manuel's interpretation of him) is. well, at least for me.
if you're wondering if this is worth your time it is NOT
anybody except me likes lists? I like lists. so let's make a list!
also let's see how many quotes can I fit into this post
whoa, I am excited about it.
1. the moment he meets Aaron Burr, he just sorta searches for something to bond over. like, hey dude I heard you went to Princeton? I wanna go there too, let's bond over it! by the way, I punched someone there lol I swear I am not stupid aand Burr, like um, no, thanks really, I better go, you seem violent, my parents wanted me to go there, okay, and Ham like WHOA YOU AN ORPHAN? WOW I AM TOO IT'S LIKE FATE OR SOMETHING LETS BOND and Aaron like wtf dude just shut up
and honestly that's just me, if I meet a person I like I will latch onto anything and I get sorta...fixated? so yeah, this dialogue is relatable as fuck
2. and Alex doesn't shut up, but then he goes all or am I talking too much?
bro, your anxiety shows.
3. and he keeps ranting all through the show, but his rants seem to charm everybody while I think mine just annoy and scare away? whatever, moving on, with Washington asking him why are you upset and he's replying IM NOT like a fucking teenager and it's probably a small thing but it's relatable as hell
4. and then once he is given permission he dives and buries himself into work, never does things halfway and is eager to take on more responsibilities and do something new and is just generally non-stop and while I can only wish for same energy as he, I like to have a lot of work aswell (well I sure as hell whine about it a lot but Hamilton does too! what's with I havent slept in a week I was weak I was awake you've never seen a bastard orphan more in need of a break)
5. he's flirty and has no qualms with innuendos. and very forward with his feelings? like you strike me like a woman who has never been satisfied sounds like a pickup line that either gonna win him a lot more than a number or fail miserably. he's like going all out, wearing his heart on his sleeve, and if it takes fighting a war for us too meet it will have been worth it and like seriously? yeah, flirt with every person in the room without skipping a beat, why not? he literally said on one intake of breath mr lafayette hard rock like lancelott i think your pants look hot laurens i like you a lot. he compliments people, he just throws it out instantly, most times he meets someone for the first time he compliments them and it's kind of my strategy too? it's not even a strategy, I just blurt out everything I like about a person once I meet them. it's like embarassing, because I liked a piece of jewelery on my co-worker once, and she was talking about something important while I could barely keep up because I kept thinking wow it looks great I gotta let her know. this strange need of mine to voice all thoughts annoys even me sometimes,
6. and then again, when he is angry or doesn't like something, it's painfully obvious. I don't tend to sprout profanities to people I don't like or saying stuff like madison you mad as hatter son take your medicine or you must be out of your GODDAMN mind or you absolutely right John should have shot him in mouth that would've shut him up but I can't school my face so it is always transparent what I am thinking about so my dislike is noted and not appreciated. it got me into enough embarassing situations. actually when studied in lyceum (like a sort of highschool) we had a principal and she addressed us as children and told us to call her mom and every time I was like WHAT THE HELL. I remember her eyes landing on me one time she said that and she almost did a doubletake at my facial expression. so the I'M NOT YOUR SON sentiment is not lost on me.
7. he speaks his mind when he thinks advice is in order? um if you love this woman go get her or for once in your life take a stand with pride. I tend to do it too, because I get winded up pretty fast, and I don't think it's always wise, because it's easy to judge from outside. I am pretty much sure that is the reason one of my friends back from school stopped talking to me. she had a bit of situation with her boyfriend and I still think her boyfriend is a piece of shit and she shouldn't have accepted him back, but whatever. wasn't my place to give advice, apparently
8. he gets overexcited? gentlemen of the jury I am curious bear with me are you aware that we are making history? like really I can't imagine ever getting like that at court. well I can imagine, because I get overexcited too, but saying that out loud? i'd be mortified
9. he's never satisfied? I know I already sorta covered it already, but it's more about him eager to learn and do more and feeling that what he's done and learnt is not enough, never enough. I so feel him on this, it's like yeah sure I know 4 languages, but that can't be enough can it? yeah I've got one degree but that's just ONE DEGREE that's like minimum I gotta get more
10. I know I talk too much I'm abrasive and I am not quoting Hamilton I am talking about myself thank you very much
11. he's a whiny bitch: but they don't have a plan they just hate mine -oh yes- or whatever it is Jefferson started it -huh yes sure-
12. forgetting your sons birthday? I forget my own age, sis. these little details just escape my attention. I like forgot it was my boyfriend's birthday this year - we literally live in the same flat. it took me a couple hours and a reminder from facebook. literally. and then I'll try to get away - hahaha it's like me saying to my parents - oh sure I'll some visit in a couple of months (they live in another part of the country) and then in a half a year being like oh wow when was the last time I went home
13. oh, here comes some more heavy stuff - say no to this. I was in a couple situations where I lost this battle. I think I have some polyamorous tendencies? but I am also very posessive and jealous, yeah, not a great mix, I know. so, I might have sorta dated two girls at one time once. well, not really dated, we were just bi-curious with one? we were friends, just... um, trying things. and then at some point I met another girl and it escalated pretty quickly and we sorta got together (oh my god the whole situation was a mess I was so confused about my sexuality back then and so ashamed you have no idea) and I didn't break it off with the first girl, but it was okay since we weren't... a thing? they knew each other but had no idea I slept with both of them. well we haven't really gotten that far with the first one but. and then the other asked at some point if she's the only one I do this with and I lied and a month into this endeavor I realized it was too much and sorta stopped seeing the first girl. we also stopped being close friends pretty soon afterwards. all my "lovestories" are embarassing actually, but this one is also the one I am most ashamed of. and then there were many situations in life when I was attracted to multiple people at the same time and ugh, I don't know, I kind of hate it, honestly. cheating is not okay. it is okay if everybody is okay with the polyamorous relationship though, but I never got to do it. so, yeah Ham's a dick but so am I
and on that depressing note I wanna wrap it up because I sorta killed the mood with that story. i think that's called oversharing?
if you actually read it to this point - wtf, you have nothing better to do or what?
I am not even gonna tag it so people don't have to scroll over that shit while searching for good content really I just like writing
the whole time I've been writing this my cat just kept staring at me. unblinkingly. I can feel her JUDGING ME
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nicostolemybones · 4 years
Text
Good day
Happy Birthday! (Nico Birthday Week)
Trans Nico fic
Tw: pain, dysphoria, period mention, unsafe binding
-
Nico inevitably woke up in pain, although he figured he could bare it today. He'd been told pretty adamantly not to train today, but he didn't want to sit around and do nothing, so once he was awake and ready, he walked slowly to the infirmary. His joints ached badly, but he wouldn't be walking around too much anyway, so it was nothing he couldn't handle for today. He'd decided to spend the day helping Will out- of course, Will would probably refuse if Nico asked, so he was just going to turn up and start helping with the stock rooms- he could sit on the shelves to sort through the boxes and count everything and take note of what they were running low on. 
Of course, when Will found him sitting on the shelves counting out bottles of testosterone, he was less than pleased. "What exactly do you think you're doing?"
"Helping," Nico replied, "you're running low on ace bandages and nectar but there's enough ambrosia to last a few months at least. I'm counting out the testiclerone." Will's wheezing laugh alerted Nico that not only had he mispronounced testosterone, but he'd said the word testicle and both boys were too immature to not overreact. Nico facepalmed. "Oh balls," he sighed, then realised he'd basically made the same mistake twice, laughing at himself quietly. 
"If you're not going to be mature," Will chastised, but he was definitely being more immature than Nico was with his bright glow from the laughter, "then get out of my stock cupboard."
"Never I've established a nest," Nico protested.
"I ordered you to rest."
"I am resting," Nico argued, "I don't wanna just sit in my cabin when I could be helpful."
"But it's your birthday," Will whined, "you shouldn't be counting out medicines you should be out having fun!"
"It's not my birthday," Nico said slowly, and Will raised his eyebrows.
"Nico, it's the 28th. It's your birthday today."
"...oh," Nico whispered, after a while.
"Did you… dude, did you forget your own birthday?"
"It… it's not important," Nico sighed with a huff, turning his attention back to counting, "it's just a day."
"Is there a reason you don't wanna celebrate?"
"No," Nico shrugged, "not particularly…"
"Then let's go!" Will had grabbed Nico's hand before he could process what was happening, and his best friend was dragging him away.
Will brought him ice cream, which Nico appreciated- he had chocolate, whilst Will had strawberry. Nico was having fun at first, but he started to feel out of place as they shopped for clothes. All the men were so tall, and Nico was terrified to talk should his voice give him away. It had been easy to pass his higher register off as puberty not starting yet, but Will was fifteen too, and his voice had already started breaking. He always had a very clumsy shaving rash, and acne certainly wasn't his best friend, and he was tall. Nico on the other hand was currently battling a heavy period making him feel like he was gonna vomit and the growth of two lumps on his chest he was binding tightly in the hope they wouldn't grow anymore or be noticeable.
Even most of the extra small clothes would be too big for him. Nothing in the adult men's department was going to fit him. He felt like everyone around him knew, like everybody was looking at him wondering what some little girl was doing there. "Will," he said quietly, dysphoria and anxiety spiking through the roof, "I need to get out of here…"
"Ah, shit, sure," Will said, hurrying Nico out of the store. He took him to a small café, ordering himself a milkshake. Nico opted for tea to calm his nerves. His dysphoria was bad, and he knew he'd need the bathroom soon to change pads, and he wasn't binding safely. Will didn't know yet, and Nico really wanted to confide in him. He'd been thinking about coming out to Will for a while now, and it clear Will was concerned about him. Nico felt comfortable around Will. He'd never come out to anyone at camp- Bianca had known, and his dad had figured it out. Of course, Nico was terrified to come out, but he knew Will would accept him. 
"Hey, Will?" He began quietly, and the nerves washed over him in overwhelming waves. He almost backed out, but he reminded himself that things would be okay. "I have something I want to tell you."
"Is it that you stole my last cookie? Because you totally stole my last cookie." 
"That was Kayla," Nico corrected quickly, and Will was probably about to shout out loud, but Nico quickly hurried out a small "it's serious."
Will instantly leaned forwards, giving a reassuring but concerned smile. He was glowing softly, comfortingly. "I'm here," he said softly, and Nico took a deep shaky breath.
"It's uh… something about me," he said, "something personal."
"It's okay," Will reassured softly, "I'm listening."
Nico didn't really know how to say it. He'd always imagined it would be such a long and personal conversation, but as soon as he mustered up the courage, it was only two words. "I'm trans…"
Will was silent for a while, and Nico began to panic, but Will wouldn't reject him, he highly doubted it. He knew Will was just trying to figure out how to respond out of respect and care. "I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to trust me with that," he said eventually, "is there anything in particular that I do that makes you feel uncomfortable that you need me to stop doing, or- or anything in general to avoid?"
"You haven't made me uncomfortable," Nico said, feeling more able to force the words out, "just uh… no feminine language, and don't draw attention to any feminine things unless it's y'know… period leakage or medical related. And uh… I don't want you to tell anyone at camp, I'm not ready and I don't feel safe enough."
"Of course, dude," Will reassured, "may I ask you something personal?"
"I trust you," Nico replied, and Will smiled softly, a dark amber hue seeping into his glow.
"I noticed we're always running low on ace bandages. Is that…. what you're using to um-"
"Bind," Nico filled in, before nodding. 
"Would it be okay if I go buy you a sports bra so you don't have to and you go into the bathroom and put it on and take the bandages off? I know which boy's bathrooms have clean stalls and I'll come with you so you feel less scared. And uh- I know it won't squash you as much as you want, but I'll give you my jacket. Would that help? And when we get back to camp you can borrow my laptop in the infirmary and order a proper binder and measure yourself up properly."
"I'd really appreciate that, like… a lot… just don't get too flustered seeing lots of knickers and please don't get distracted trying bras on over your head. And uh… I don't feel comfortable in public bathrooms anyway, but I can't go into the men's room today, I uh… have bleeding."
"I would not!" Will protested, but his face said otherwise. "Anything I can do to help the dysphoria or hormones?"
"Just continue treating me like any other guy?"
"Of course," Will said softly.
"I don't think I can walk around for very long," Nico added after a comfortable silence, "my pain's getting to me."
"Wanna have a movie marathon in your cabin when we get back? I uh… I also kinda got you a birthday present I've been waiting to give you."
"Yeah," Nico blushed, "sounds great. So uh… you got me a gift?"
"Happy Birthday," Will said softly, handing over a small box. Nico opened it and almost bounced out of his seat- it was the latest mythomagic expansion pack he'd been saving up for. 
"Are you serious," Nico grinned, "you got me mythomagic? Will!"
"I thought you might like them," Will said, "I was uh… kinda gonna take you on a date today but I chickened out on asking you properly."
"You wanted to go on a date? With- with me? But- I thought you liked Lou-Ellen?"
"Well yeah, but that was like- a year ago. And I'm not straight, I'm bi. As in girls and guys. Well- not just girls and guys but you get my point. And you're a guy who's um. Who's pretty handsome. So uh. Um. It's… it's totally cool if-"
"Dork," Nico interrupted with a smirk, "took you long enough to ask me."
"So uh- is that a yes?" Nico almost whacked him with a pillow, except he didn't have one. He felt confident and happy for once. It had been a good birthday. 
@solangeloweek
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darkeyesshine · 3 years
Text
Confessions AMBW (DPR REM)
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𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐚'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕
How did I get here?
Currently, I'm in the living room at Scott's house, that's right Scott's house as in DPR REM. How did I end up in this house with Scott Kim? Not only was he pretty known in South Korea but he's also my crush.
You are probably confused right now so let me go back in time so you can understand.
𝑻𝒘𝒐 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒔 𝒂𝒈𝒐 my friend, Alyssa invited me to South Korea to celebrate her 24th birthday with her boyfriend named John. Of course, being the best friend that I am, I said yes and packed my things to go to South Korea. Not only did I meet her boyfriend but I also had the pleasure to meet the DPR crew. I mean on my first day in South Korea I got to meet Dabin, Christian, Cream, Cline, and (last but not least my handsome crush) Scott. I was hooked when he hugged me and introduced himself for the first time but I thought that was the only time my heart would stop beating.
As if
The next day at Alyssa's house she took the opportunity to get me and Scott together. It felt like I was on a double date with Alyssa and John. Judging by Scott's nervous smiles, I could tell he was feeling the same way. At least we made small talk and got to know each other to the point that we exchanged each other's numbers. That same night when Scott left, I told Alyssa and John that I had a crush on Scott. They weren't surprised of course in fact this was apart of Alyssa's plan all along. She told me that the main reason why she wanted me to come to South Korea was because of Scott. That whole night Alyssa stayed up telling me about Scott and what he likes or what he doesn't like. She even told me that Scott had a thing for island girls which made me like him even more. But the problem is I am insecure to the point that I can't even look at myself for too long in the mirror. Ever since I was young, I hated my skin complexion and how dark I was. But mostly I hated my face even though I had a wonderful family that would tell me how beautiful I was, I would never believe it. After a week or so Scott invited me to go to the mall with him. Of course, your girl was smiling from ear to ear when he asked me out but I still felt like he saw me as a friend.
He proved me wrong.
While Scott and I were at the mall, I saw the store Forever 21 and decided to go check out some clothes. Scott didn't mind, of course, I thought he would because this is a girl's clothing store but no. Once I picked out a few outfits, I went to the fitting rooms to try on some of the clothes while Scott waited for me outside. After trying on the two outfits that I picked, I felt happy that I looked pretty in them. You see I was insecure about my skin and face but never of my body. But when I tried on the last outfit which was a red fitted tube dress, I didn't feel confident so I thought to ask Scott about it. He's my friend so he will give me a solid and honest answer about the dress I was wearing. When I walked out of the fitting room, where he was sitting down the couch that they had in store and his eyes opened widely once he saw me standing there.
"Scott, how do I look? Because I don't feel confident in this dress maybe it's because of my curves or my stomach. I just don't know-
"Shh, don't say that. You look beautiful as a matter of fact you look beautiful in everything. Buy the dress because you look stunning," He says with a smile and my heart stopped beating again. As I said, I was insecure so can you imagine how happy I felt when Scott told me that.
"Okay, thank you." That was all I could say before running back in the fitting room and changing into the outfit that I had on before. When I was done getting dressed, we went to the register, and before I could take out my wallet. Scott pays for the outfits and I was shocked the whole time because of how genuine he was to me.
Ever since that day on, he was treating me like I was more than a friend but I still couldn't tell if he liked me or not. The reason why I say this is because three weeks ago, Scott stopped being in contact with me and I was beginning to worry.
𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝑾𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒔 𝑨𝒈𝒐
𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕
"Dude, what is up with you?" Dabin gets up from my couch.
"Just tell her you like her," Cline whines as he played a game on his phone.
"Yeah, don't be afraid." John agrees.
"What if she gets the wrong impression of me or what if we stop being friends all because Lisa doesn't like me back?" I rubbed my forehead and Christian signs out loud next to me.
"Scott it's been two months and you have already displayed your feelings for Lisa just by your actions. At least now the best that you could do is tell Lisa you like her," Christian says.
"Yeah, I agree with Barom. She hasn't reacted in any negative way ever since you've been telling her how beautiful she is," Dabin comes back to the couch with a coke in his hand.
"And don't forget the constant flirting between you two. I just learned what that word means," Cline says and I throw a pillow at him causing the boys to laugh.
"But who knows maybe she likes you too," John smirks before taking a sip of his drink and I looked at him suspiciously.
"John...does Lisa like me back?" I asked.
"Yes, you idiot!" Dabin shouts.
"Duh," John shakes his head at me slowly.
"For how long?" I can't believe Lisa likes me back, I feel so happy right now. I haven't liked anyone in a long time and this is taking a toll on me.
"You are going to have to ask her that in person,"
"Yes, schedule a date with her or something," Christian says
"Yeah, the poor girl hasn't heard anything from you in three weeks," Dabin says.
"You guys are right. I will text her tonight to meet me here so we can talk." I turned on my phone and went to messages, smiling at the last text we sent each other.
God, I miss her.
𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑻𝒊𝒎𝒆
𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐚'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕
Scott finally texts me during the night and asks for me to come over to his place at three tomorrow. Of course, I accepted his request without hesitation but I was going to face anxiety tomorrow.
So, now that you are up to date. You understand why I am freaking out right now.
I waited for Scott to come back patiently as I sat on the couch but his furniture was keeping me occupied. He had a decent modern-day house and I loved it because this whole place screamed Scott. I've never been to Scott's house before so this was a pleasant surprise but I'm still wondering why am I at his house.
"I turned down the A/C just in case you are getting cold," He came back to the living room breaking the silence and I nodded. He looked at my outfit before making eye contact with me.
"You're wearing the-
"The dress that you paid for at Forever 21. You didn't have to pay for it, you know?" I looked away from his eyes then he sat down next to me.
"Of course I did. You still look beautiful by the way and I love the hair," He complimented me with a smile. I wanted to try something new with my hair so I brought a blue shoulder-length wig and it matched my skin perfectly.
"Thank you," I smiled shyly while touching the back of my hair out of nervousness.
"Your welcome," Scott says with a chuckle. I missed his voice and the way he smiled.
"So, why am I here?" I wanted to get answers.
"Because...I have something to tell you," He pauses before grabbing my hands and I faced him.
"Lisa, I really like you. Over these past two months, I really got to know you and you got to know me. We just click and I haven't met anyone who clicks with me as much as you do. Especially with how fast we got to know each other. I guess what am I trying to say is...
𝙊𝙝 𝙢𝙮 𝙜𝙤𝙨𝙝, 𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙛𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚.
"Will you be my girlfriend?"
My heart stopped beating and tears fell down my cheek. I honestly did not know what to say. This all happened so quickly, my heart can't take this. Hell! My mind can't comprehend what's going on right now. I didn't want to leave him hanging as he just stared at me waiting for an answer so I spoke up.
"Yes, I would love to be your girlfriend." As soon as I said that, Scott kissed me on the lips. I was shocked at first but kissed him back. When we finally pulled away from each other's lips, we caught our breaths and smiled.
"So, what do we do now?" I wrapped my arms around his neck and he looks around in deep thought.
"Watch a movie?" He lifts his shoulders up and I smiled before pecking him on the lips.
"Sure,"
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bungou-stray-dingus · 4 years
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Could I request headcanons of Chuuya with a girlfriend who is shorter than him, plays a lot of instruments(Piano, flute, violin, percussion, I guess singing counts too?) professionally, and is sun allergic? I’m sorry if it’s too much!
FOR BB!! Also hell yeah for marching band!! I miss my marching band days.
I HOPE YOU ENJOY READING THIS AS MUCH AS I ENJOYED WRITING IT!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
High School AU
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You sat in the back of the music room, waiting for the teacher to give the signal that it was time to head out onto the field. It was the first game of the season, the Homecoming Game, also known as the most important football game of the year. The sun was still setting, but just there enough to cause your eyes to water and you to start sniffling.
“You alright?” Chuuya came up to you, the drum sticks tried under his arm. He was so cute in his marching band uniform, and you had secretly been crushing on him since the first day you saw him. The two of you had managed to become super close, and you hoped deep down that he would ask you to the homecoming dance.
He waved his hand in front of your face, pulling you out of the daydream daze you were in and you shook your head, giving him an awkward chuckle. “Y-yeah, I’m fine. The sun is just setting off my allergy. Hopefully it’ll be fully set before we go out on the field.” You gave him a sheepish smile and he looked out the window then back to you.
“Oh yeah, do you need a tissue? We can’t afford to lose our best percussionist.” He smiled back to you and you felt your cheeks heat up.
“Uhm, first thing, your flirting sucks, and second, marimba isn’t percussion. Duh.” Dazai’s voice broke through, and you watched as he brought the trumpet up to his lips, trying to play it as he walked closer.
“Dude, shut up! Also, the marimba is definitely a percussion instrument. How did you even make it into this class. Who’s trumpet is that?” Just seeing Dazai had Chuuya on the verge of a fit of rage. His last question was answered when Kunikida ran over to where Dazai was standing, blowing into the mouth piece, producing a bunch of spit but no sound.
“Dammit Dazai, now I’m gonna have to disinfect it.” Kunikida said, snatching the instrument from Dazai’s hands with a look of disgust. “Also, the marimba is definitely a percussion instrument.” He added before walking away, mumbling under his breath about how disgusting it is to use someone else’s mouthpiece.
“I don’t know what his problem is.” Dazai shrugged, then looked down at you. “You look very good in the uniform by the way, Y/N.” His voice was suggestive and if it were possible, Chuuya would have smoke coming out of his ears, he looked so pissed at Dazai’s comment.
“SHE ALREADY KNOWS THAT!” He shouted, smacking Dazai with one of the drumsticks. “Y/N, you look great.” He said, and you dropped your head to try to hide your blushing face.
“Dude, why not ask her out already.” Dazai said, dodging Chuuya’s second hit. “I’m just saying!” He held his hands up as he backed away. “You guys would be soooo cute together.”
“I... He.... heh... let’s get your instrument down to the field?” Chuuya stumbled over his words, obviously put in an awkward situation and he didn’t know how to react at all. “Kenji, give us a hand?” Chuuya called to him from across the room. The saxophone player was rather strong considering his small build. He easily lifted the other end of the instrument with no sign of a struggle, he didn’t even break a sweat.
You sat on the bleachers with Chuuya, waiting for the other members of the band to come out. Chuuya situated himself between you and the light of the setting sun to help keep your eyes from watering. “Are you nervous?” He asked, noticing your fingers tapping nervously against your lap. He placed his hand over yours to keep you from tapping, and you felt the blush rise into your cheeks again. “There’s no need to be nervous, most of these people talk over our playing anyway.”
“I-I’m not nervous, I just...” You noticed he was staring at you, his eyebrows raised, obviously not fooled by your lie. “Alright... maybe I am. But...”
“I’ll be right next to you the entire time.” He whispered, his thumb rubbing circles into the back of your hand. It made your heart rate spike and you tried to keep your heavy breathing to a minimum. “Oh, looks like everyone’s coming down now. Are you ready?” He asked and you nodded quickly.
Everyone lined up on the field, getting into the formation that had been practiced multiple times over the last two months. The sun had finally set, but that was the least of your worries at this point. All the lights, all the eyes on you, it had you sweating profusely. Chuuya looked down at you and noticed how pale you had turned, the tiny beads of sweat that were forming on your forehead considering how chilly it was. “Psst.... hey.” He whispered just loud enough for you to hear. You looked up to him, his smile seemed brighter than any of the lights on the field. “Keep your eyes on me, whenever you feel nervous, just look at me. Okay?” His voice was soothing and you felt yourself relax a little.
You and your instrument were in the center of the field, the rest of the band had circled around you, but you kept your eyes on Chuuya, his red hair peaking out of the hat let you know that it was definitely him. You felt a pair of eyes on the back of your head and you turned around to see that it was Dazai. He licked his lips and winked at you before wrapping his mouth around the mouthpiece of the saxophone. You faced back to your teacher quickly, his hands were in the air as he waited for everyone to get ready. Then they dropped, and the sound of everyone’s instruments filled the field. The band started to move, walking in sync to the rhythm of the music and your eyes focused in on Chuuya, you could pick out the sound of his instrument through the sound of everyone else’s. When his solo came up you couldn’t fight the grin that spread across your face, hearing him play, it was pure talent. His drum solo was absolutely flawless, and you almost missed your time to start playing again, you were so entranced by his playing.
The football game started and the band took their seats at the far end of the bleachers, all the instruments and their cases littered the ground in front of the seats. You were sat between Akutagawa and Chuuya who talked across you about how football was meaningless. The crowd roared when the team scored a touchdown and Akutagawa groaned. “They didn’t cheer like that when we were done playing. They don’t appreciate the art that is playing an instrument.” Chuuya nodded at Aku’s words.
“Well I think we played really well tonight!” Tanizaki chimed in, leaning forward so he was peaking between yours and Chuuya’s shoulders.
“Heck yeah! We were awesome tonight!” Atsushi added, patting Chuuya’s back. “Oh, where’s Ranpo?” Atsushi asked, looking around the bleachers.
“He went to the snack stand. You want to go?” Tanizaki asked and Atsushi nodded. Akutagawa, Kenji, and Kunikida followed behind them.
You shivered as a breeze blew through the stands, and Chuuya wrapped his arm around your shoulder. You leaned against him, he was so warm and you enjoyed the feeling of his arm around you. “Awwww. You guys are so cute. Can you just ask her already!?” Dazai’s voice broke through, ruining the serene moment. You sighed and moved away as Chuuya did a 180 and turned to face Dazai who was sitting two stands up.
“Will you just shut up for once? God, you’re so annoying!” Chuuya argued, and you could see how agitated he was when Dazai just laughed. Chuuya’s cheeks burned red when he turned back around, he was breathing heavy as he tried to control his anger.
“You should just ignore him. He’s trying to make you mad.” Dazai’s laughter ringed in your ears as you tried to help calm Chuuya. He sighed loudly before standing up and stepping over your legs.
“You wanna take a walk?” He asked, waiting for you to follow him. Dazai’s clapping and cheering irked the both of you, and you saw Chuuya clench his fists as he walked a little faster, most likely to get away from Dazai as fast as possible so he wouldn’t punch him.
He held the doors open for you as you walked into the school. The empty building brought peace now instead of the anxiety that usually came along with the over congested hallways. It was quiet, and your footsteps with Chuuya’s seemed to echo down the long halls. Even your breathing seemed to be amplified by the emptiness.
“Chuuya...”
“Y/N...” You both spoke at the same time and you let out an awkward giggle that matched his own. “Oh sorry, you can go first.”
“No, no, what were you going to say?” You asked, stopping at the stairwell and taking a seat on the bottom step. Now that the two of you were alone you could hear your heart beating in your ears, your entire body felt warm as his eyes lingered on your face.
“Are you... uh... going to homecoming?” He asked, refusing to sit down. He was standing in front of you, biting his lip as he waited for your answer. You shook your head no and he smiled a little. “Oh... well... would you maybe want to... I don’t know... go with me?” Your stomach did a somersault as his words registered in your brain.
“Like, as friends?” You asked, hoping that he’d say no. He shrugged and finally took a seat next to you.
“I mean... if you want to go as friends.... but....” He wasn’t able to finish his sentence. The sound of footsteps racing down the hallway startled the both of you.
Tachihara turned the corner and spotted the two of you and he sighed. “Man, teach is freaking out because of you two. We’re about to go on for half time.” He was out of breath from running and you found it hard to hold back your laughter seeing him so flustered.
“Sorry dude, we’re coming.” Chuuya said, stifling his own laughter.
The three of you sprinted through the empty hallways, bursting through the double doors. You took your place on the field where the rest of the band was already in formation. Your teacher scowled at you and Chuuya, but that wasn’t even the worst. Dazai’s smug smirk put you on edge and you couldn’t shake the awkward, uneasy feeling his look gave you.
Chuuya’s words replayed in your mind over and over as you watched him move across the field. What was he going to say after the but? You wished that Tachihara hadn’t barged in at such a bad time, now you were left with the overwhelming feeling of nervousness at Chuuya’s unfinished sentence.
The music faded, and the band ran off the field as the crowd erupted with applause as the football teams sprinted out on the field. Everyone began packing away their instruments, ready to finish up the night and go home. You held Chuuya’s tenor drums as he and Kenji worked to carry in your marimbas. The two walked ahead as you stayed behind talking with Tanizaki and Atsushi who were taking apart their clarinets. “So where were you and Chuuya anyway?” Tanizaki asked, genuinely curious as he was highly worried when they couldn’t find you at first.
“Well... we were-“ You began but Dazai jumped in again.
“You two were probably making out in an empty stairwell. Ha! So cool, didn’t know you had it in you Y/N.” He said, leaning closer to you. “You know if Chuuya won’t ask you out-“
“Shut up Osamu.” You mumbled, pulling away from his whispering lips that were far too close to your ear.
“I like when you say my name like that.” He winked at you before walking away. Akutagawa shook his head as he looked after Dazai.
“Don’t worry about him. He’s just a typical upperclassman. He probably hasn’t even had a girlfriend.” Tanizaki said, patting your shoulder to try to make you feel less upset about what he had said.
“Yeah, he acts like he’s....” You stopped listening to them, you just wanted to get back up to the classroom and put your stuff away so you could go home.
Chuuya was waiting for you next to the door to the classroom, he had already changed out of his uniform, his backpack slung over one arm as he scanned the hallways, his eyes lit up when he spotted you. He took his drums from your hands and took them to the back of the class and you followed him. “You took a while, I was starting to get worried that Dazai got to you until he came up.” He chuckled, but you could hear that the thought alone made him uncomfortable. “I’ll let you get changed.” He reminded you that you were still wearing your uniform and you nodded, grabbing your backpack and heading to the restroom to change.
You stared at yourself in the mirror, suddenly self conscious about the way you looked. You so badly wanted Chuuya to like you, as more than a friend. Whenever you were around him you felt like you couldn’t breathe, he was so perfect and there was nothing more that you wanted than to call him your boyfriend. You didn’t know how he felt though, and you were way too nervous to ask him. You walked out of the bathroom, heading back to the music room to wait for your ride. Chuuya had probably already left, you would never find out what would come after the but. Even if you were to go to homecoming as friends, there was nothing bad about that, you would still be with him... right?
Taking a seat on the piano bench, you dropped your bag to the floor next to you and began playing a song that you had made up on the spot. It started out cheery, lilting and fun, then it slowly turned more solemn, kind of how you felt whenever you were with Chuuya. He was always able to cheer you up, he made you happy, he made you smile, whenever he would hug you it felt like your heart would explode out of your chest. Even with all of that though, you knew that there would never be anything more to your relationship. You would never be able to walk down the halls with your hand intertwined with his, giving him a quick kiss after he drops you off at your class. There would be no cute couple photos taken in photo booths filling the front of your binder.
Your fingers slid from the piano keys and rested by your side. “That was beautiful, I’ve never heard the song before. What song is it?” His voice was soft, he was hoping not to surprise you by coming in, and he was glad that he got to listen to you play. He never knew that you could play the piano, but that was just another thing he could add to the list of things you did that amazed him.
“I uh... I made it up.” You said, turning around in the bench to face him. “I thought you had already left.”
“No... I never got the chance to finish what I was saying earlier.” He rubbed the back of his head nervously, biting his cheek as he thought of how to word what he was going to say next. “I uhm... I didn’t want to just go as friends. I wanted to know if.... maybe you would like to be my girlfriend?” He asked, his voice rising an octave with each word.
You were shocked that he had asked, you had never thought that he felt that way about you. You couldn’t even manage to say yes, so you nodded, you nodded so fast that it made your head hurt. He laughed at your reaction, stepping forward to stand in front of you. He grabbed your hand and pulled you up off the bench, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. It was different from the friendly hug he’d usually give you whenever he saw you in the hallways at school.
“Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to ask you that?” He asked quietly, his lips brushing the top of your head. The feeling sent shivers down your spine and you sighed as you rested your head against his chest.
“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to ask?”
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geeky-marie · 4 years
Text
Good Luck Charm
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Dewey Finn x Reader ( Female)
School of Rock 
N/A: Well it’s starts with a small idea and I write it in a few hours. It end to be way more soft and fluff that I wanted at first. I wanted to have a little Smut in it but, I think it wouldn’t fit right. So, here a fluffy Dewey Finn. 
* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.  
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The kids were in panic. Miss Mullins, nervously biting his nails, was trying to calm them. The technician guy, unhappy, was growling about his time in a more popular band where this kind of situation would never happen. And there, in a little corner of the room, was you. Your phone glued to your ear, trying to calm a horrifying late and swearing Dewey Finn, stuck in the traffic.
“ I swear Y/N, the old cow in front of me must think that the hallway is a parking or something … fuck, maybe she’s dead in her car and her foot is on the break ! Come on, I'm laate to my shooww “ 
Trying to not laughing, you try to keep your mind clear. 
“ We will find a solution, you have some time. But, most important, Dewey, do you have it? “ 
“ Yes of course I have it Y/N! I didn’t go of my gig for nothing!” 
Dewey didn’t have the intention or the need to go out after the afternoon practice if it hadn’t been of Lawrence. You had noticed, during the repetition that the young boy wasn’t like usual, or at least was playing with less facility that normal. Concern and with the help of Dewey, you had tried to find out what’s happened.
“ Come on Lawrence, what’s the matter dude?” 
“ You can tell us, we see that something is bothering you...are you anxious for tonight?” You asked, a gentle smile on your lips. 
“ No, that’s...that’s stupid” The boy replied, looking at his shoes. 
“ Stupid like, I think at my math homework or stupid like I love a girl and she’s stuck in my brain ? Because we could do a song about that !” Dewey asked, his eyes sparkling at the idea. 
“ Dewey “ You sighed. “ I’m sure it’s not stupid Lawrence” 
“ I forgot at school the good luck charm my grandmother gave me, I have it at each one of our concerts...I can play well without it” He confessed, his cheeks turning pink under your gaze. 
“ I’m sure you can play without it, it’s not luck who makes you’re a great musician it’s...” You started before being abruptly interrupted by Dewey. 
“ I’ll go get it “ He says, already taking his car keys. “ We don’t play with luck” 
After reflection, letting Dewey go himself was a stupid idea. But, nobody could have predicted the road accident whose block a part of the hallway and create a huge traffic. But, you were now at twenty minute of going on stage and the second guitars and principal singer is missing. 
“Miss Y/N, it’s almost our turn, the owner asks what we do...”
You didn’t see Summer coming. As the manager, she was perfect. Always master of herself, calm and sure of his decision for the good of the band. But, you knew that after all, she’s just a kid and she must feel lost and anxious like everybody in the room. 
“ Summer tell them to...” Dewey start to yell in the phone before you interrupt him, scared of the end of the sentence in his state of mind. Even if he had made great progress since he teaches to the children, the man still had his temper and could have a dirty mouth. 
“ Dewey, try your best to coming the faster you can. I will find a solution.” You reply, hanging out before he could answer. 
In fact, you have an idea. You didn’t like it, but it was better that cancel the performance, disappoint everybody and showing to the kids that it better to give up at the first difficulty. 
“ Summer, tell everybody we will play. Say to Lawrence that is item is in the crowd almost in his pocket. Tell Billy to bring me the uniform of Dewey and his sewing kit and ask to Miss Mullins to come with me“ Closing briefly your eyes trying to stop your anxiety, you take a breath “ I will take Dewey’s place “
As a smart child, Summer only nod of the head knowing that you didn’t come with this solution if you knew that you couldn’t do it. Soon, everybody had been informed of the plan and Miss Mullins had gracefully agree to wear your jeans in exchange of his above the knee black skirt.    
“ I only have one question” The young and small manager tell, looking at the way too large for you uniform of Dewey, Billy was caring “ How will you make it fit on you ?” 
Smiling at the girl, you wink at Billy who’s automatically smile back at the challenge.  
“ That, Summer it’s why is always important to have a needle, safety pins and some creativity” You respond, putting your left arm in the sleeve of the white shirt. 
Your knees are weak and your heart was racing in your chest. When, at only a few inches of the colorful stage, you put the strap of Dewey guitar on your shoulder. You knew that the guitar wasn’t really heavier. But, you still feel it like it hadn’t the same weight that the last time Dewey put it in your hand.Few months ago, in one of your movie nights, he had insisted to hear you play, even if you had protested that you weren't great like him. It was that night too, after watching you play on his precious guitar that he had kissed you for the first time. 
“ And now, please welcome THE SCHOOL OF ROCK !” 
Taking a deep breath, you gave a look at the small faces of these group of talented child, summoning the inner Dewey whose sleep in you and step on stage.
*******
Dewey was running as fast as he can, showing his backstage pass at every bodyguard trying to stop him. In his pocket, the large and heavy coin of Lawrence was bouncing at each move. 
He was almost at the end of one of the side corridors leading to the backstage when he heard it. The first chord of Teacher pet like only Zach knew to do it, and then, the second guitar. The first feeling punch him in the stomach, they replace him, like his previous band. Then, jealousy, anger and finally the guilt. It was is idea to go get the item of Lawrence. They only do what they teach them : The show must always go on.   
It was only when he heard the feminine voice starting to sing that he starts to run again, changing the way of his trajectory. Open the first door at his right, ending in the front row, he lifted his head. 
There, wearing an identical uniform as his, minus the short who were substitute by a pencil black skirt, his girl was playing and signing like a fucking rock goddess. Holy shit, even his own guitar look better when you were playing with it on that outfit. Well, he had noticed that everything look better when he was with you, but dress like that you just look like a living dream. Or maybe he just discovers a new kink he have only for you. Damn it, one day he will truly have to marry you.
Jumping on place like the rest of the crowd, smiling and shouting, he waited for the end of the song before rushing backstage to put his spare uniform. 
You didn’t start the second song yet, waving at the clapping crowd, when he pop at the side on the stage. Smiling at you like the Cheshire cat. 
Rushing behind the curtain, you rapidly remove the guitar putting it in his hand. 
“ Omg baby you were amazing !!” Dewey shout, kissing you without letting you answer. “ and that uniform, where do you find it ?”  
“ It’s your uniform, now shut up and go, they wait for you !” You say laughing after his kiss. 
“ Keep it like that !!” He tell before jumping on stage. 
The rest of the night was perfect. The show had finished with two encores and everybody came back in the dressing room sweaty but, way more relaxed. 
Sit on the couch of the room, back in your jeans and shirt, you listen to Lawrence explaining to you his good luck coin. Once on stage, the first thing that Dewey did was giving him back his precious possession to the young pianist. 
Lifting your gaze, you saw Dewey coming at you. He had changed his costume to his previous AC/DC shirt but didn't succeed to get down is hair. 
“ Lawrence, your parents are there and they say it's time to give me back my girlfriend, oh and back home of course. See you Monday.” 
Smiling, the young musician jump on Dewey, giving him a last hug and a thanks before heading to his parents, waiting at the door. 
“ That coin is really important for him since his grandmother die. It’s not really have a relation with luck but, for him it’s real I think” You say, watching the now happy family left. 
“ No, I think it has something to do with luck too “ Your boyfriend insist. “ Every rock star have his kind of good luck charm, it was my guitar” 
“ Was ? “ You ask pushing yourself against his warm body. 
“ Well, after tonight that change a little. Nothing go wrong when you are here. You are maybe my good luck charm after all” 
Trying to hide your large grin, you put your mouth on his. 
“ Are my kiss are lucky too ? “ You playfully ask. 
“ Well I can’t wait to be home to discover it” Dewey joke, smiling. “ and please, don’t forget the uniform.” 
Laughing, your take you bag, kind of proud and amuse of your new statue of good luck charm.   
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N/A : Like I said before, I wanted to do a little smut but, it ended up way too fluff and long to add it. So gave me a like or a comment if you want a smut second part.
 @beetlejuicecansteponme​
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elcorhamletlive · 5 years
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I can finally post this!
fandom: MCU (Post- Avengers 2012) tags: Fluff and Humour, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Idiots in Love, POV Tony Stark, Stony Loves Steve 2019
summary: Tony is thrilled about his new relationship with Steve. He's on cloud nine, in fact. It's so amazing he can believe it's real.
He just wishes they could... Uh. Touch a little. Just a little.
Ok, so, here’s the thing: Tony never, in a million years, thought Steve would say “yes”.
Not because of some exacerbated insecurity or anything. As anyone who knows him can attest, Tony is far from oblivious to his appeal. He knows he’s an attractive man, and that he could charm his way out of nearly anything, if he wanted to.
He also knows he’s good at flirting. He knows how to be seductive without being inconvenient, how to be flattering without exaggerating, how to be suggestive without pushing any boundaries. He has mastered his technique over years, practicing with many different people. He never had any trouble getting a date, and, to be completely honest, he doesn’t think he ever will.
But.
There is a huge difference between dating, in its usual simple, casual meaning, and the utterly other-worldly, mind blowing, frankly almost terrifying concept of dating Steve Rogers. Dating is easy, but dating Steve – going out for a movie with Steve, holding his hand, kissing him after the night is over, asking if he wants to come up to the penthouse… If you ask Tony, there’s an entire universe of distance between these two ideas. They’re barely in the same astral plane.
And Tony—Tony doesn’t even know what possessed him to ask. It had been an insane impulse to rival every single one of his most self-destructive habits. There he was, in the kitchen, filling himself with coffee, when Steve walked in with a book in his hand, sitting on a stool. He was wearing his grandpa clothes, his brow was furrowed and his blond bangs were falling a little on his forehead.
Tony watched him, and at one point he closed his book and fished out the tiniest notepad from his pocket. He wrote something down, tongue sticking out from the corner of his mouth, deep concentration as his fingers brushed his bangs to the side, and Tony had thought: Oh. Oh, I wish I could have him.
That hadn’t been a new thought – actually, it bordered on repetitive at that point, echoing in his head anytime he watched Steve do basically anything - but it apparently resonated with something in Tony’s sleep-deprived brain, because the next thing he knew, he was rambling about reservations that he had made for him and Pepper, and how Pepper had cancelled, and how he missed eating steak, and if Steve wanted to have dinner with him.
And Steve said yes.
And that—well, to say it caught Tony off guard would be an understatement. He had just stared at Steve for a moment in silence when FRIDAY helpfully jumped in to inform him of the reservation's time. Steve had smiled, and Tony had gaped at him like a fish, and, just like that, he had a date with Steve Rogers.
The hours that followed were some of the slowest of Tony’s life. He had been a pile of nerves in a way he didn’t remember ever being before a date. He found himself trying on the suit he used to meet the president and finding it incredibly ill-fitting.
Then, at 6:38, he was ready, exactly twenty-two minutes too early. Fortunately, Steve, being who he was, had also shown up to meet him in the living room early, so Tony didn’t have to wait for long.
Dinner was… surprisingly great. Granted, Tony was almost vibrating off his chair, but Steve didn’t seem to mind. He had been outraged by the prices, which Tony found both exasperating and adorable, and after a moment of initial awkwardness, they fell into an easy, natural banter. Steve was a great listener, Tony found. He heard everything Tony said with the utmost attention, but he wasn’t always quiet either – he’d interject with a blunt wit that made Tony grin a little ridiculously at times, and he’d nod at Tony’s rambling as if it were worth listening to.
The restaurant worked, too. It was a discreet bistro not too far away from the Tower. The food tasted delicious, and Steve cleaned up his plate with such voracity that Tony simply had to convince him to order dessert. Steve complained a little, saying it wasn’t fair to let Tony pay for everything, but Tony won the argument, promising he’d let Steve pay next time (Steve didn’t even blink at the suggestion that there would be a next time, which, really, made Tony feel like floating off his seat).
All in all, it was a great choice, even though it was far from the place Tony would have picked to take Steve on a first date – though, to be fair, Tony wouldn’t have been able to rent out the Louvre on such little notice anyway.
By the time they got home, though, Tony’s anxiety had resurfaced again. Even as he grinned at Steve and continued to talk normally, his hands twitched hopelessly in the pockets of his jacket. He wondered if Steve’s occasional lingering gaze was enough of a hint of what his reaction would be if Tony tried to close the evening with a goodnight kiss.
When they got to Steve’s floor, Steve turned towards him and smiled – a large, sincere smile that knocked Tony’s breath right out of his lungs.
“Thank you, Tony. I… To be honest, I don’t remember the last time I had that much fun, in this time.” And he looked a little embarrassed, a little awkward, but still… almost giddy with happiness, as if he had truly forgotten how it felt to be this way. “Thank you.”
And then the elevator doors opened, and Steve got out, and there was no kiss but really, that had been even better. The doors closed, and Tony rested his head on the wall and smiled like an idiot at the ceiling.
That had been date number one. Date number two happened almost a week later, after Rhodey managed to convince Tony Steve wouldn’t want to drop everything and go to Paris with him just because Tony thought anything New York had to offer simply wasn’t good enough. Tony then finally caved and, rambling about how Pepper had talked up the MET’s latest exhibit at the office, asked if Steve would like to go see it on Friday. The way Steve’s face lit up at the suggestion made Tony mentally promise Rhodey a dozen new upgrades for his suit.
“Dude,” Rhodey had laughed when Tony informed him of it that night, “You are so screwed.”
Tony had rolled his eyes and ignored him.
By the time Friday arrived, he was already regretting following Rhodey’s suggestion – what was so great about the MET, anyway? And even if Steve liked it, Tony couldn’t stand art museums, not even the Louvre, so wasn’t this proof of the unavoidable truth that they were ultimately incompatible? It had to be, right? Really, he should just cancel the whole thing and spare them the inevitable misery.
Except then Steve showed up, with a button up shirt and a leather jacket and a bright smile, and Tony’s brain promptly melted and leaked right out of his ears, so. They ended up going.
As the hours went by, walking with Steve through the MET’s hallways, watching the way he frowned thoughtfully at a few pieces and stopped to analyze every detail, Tony’s thoughts changed. Museums could be fun, he realized. Museums could be… witty, and smart, and sweet. Really, museums were so, so…
Rhodey is right, Tony thought, watching Steve struggle with his phone settings to attempt to take a selfie with a painting and having to fight back an honest to god sigh. I’m completely screwed.
The following dates only consolidated that reality. He and Steve went to the Natural History Museum, to Coney Island, to the Brooklyn Bridge. The city Tony knew since his childhood seemed to gain new life when he was exploring it through Steve’s eyes. Steve had so many stories, and so many interesting insights about how things had or hadn’t changed, that it made Tony feel that New York was, suddenly, the most interesting place in the world. He started to spend most of his time at the Tower, only going to Malibu when Pepper really, really demanded his presence.
And Steve. Through these adventures, Tony found out so much about him – little things like his favorite ice cream flavor (rocky road), the kind of movies he liked (mostly sci-fi and fantasy, but he was also fond of animations), the fact that he liked buying the newspaper to do the crosswords. He learned things about Steve that Steve himself couldn’t tell, like the way he walked, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the way he brushed his bangs off his forehead when he was nervous or embarrassed. Things a person could only learn by spending time with him, which Tony was doing in ever-growing levels – and yet, worryingly, it never seemed to be enough.
And, yeah, it was a little… weird, at times. Tony had never dated – or hell, even been attracted to someone for so long without moving things to the physical side of the equation. With Steve, though, that side didn’t seem to exist at all. Two months after their first date, they were going out at least once a week, and they still hadn’t kissed, or, shit, even held hands.
Tony had thought about it (by God, had he thought about it) but anytime he thought he could take the initiative, something on Steve’s demeanor would seem to stiff, too skittish, and then it wouldn’t seem like a very good idea.
read the rest on ao3!
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victorluvsalice · 4 years
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AU Thursday: Tell Me Where To Find Shelter -- Layers of Victor
Saw this meme going around the #fallout4 tag a while back (I believe I specifically ganked it from @radbeetle), and thought it might be fun to do for my Sole Survivor!Victor. And my Malkavian!Alice, but let’s start with SS!Victor. XD
LAYER ONE: THE OUTSIDE
- Name: Victor Fitzwilliam Van Dort
- Eye Color: Very dark brown – it can be very hard to tell the difference between pupil and iris!
- Hair Style/Color: Black, generally combed back with two "tufts" of bangs falling over what little forehead he has
- Height: Six feet three inches (and thin as a rail)
- Clothing style: Relatively formal pre-War – he grew up in a household that impressed upon him that you wore ties and suits whenever you were in public, and often even in private. Post-War, he spends a lot of time switching between a pair of upgraded Vault suits from Vault 111 while looking for clothes that actually fit his lanky frame. He's a lot more casual in his style once he does – though he still likes a good sweater vest, and he keeps a few suits if he needs to look fancy.
- Best physical feature: Victor would personally say his hands – he's a pianist and a tinkerer, and he appreciates his long reach over a keyboard, along with his ability to finely handle delicate parts when upgrading or repairing things!
LAYER TWO: THE INSIDE
- Fears: Total darkness (as in you can't see ANYTHING – as long as there's some sort of light source, he can manage); blindness (related to previous); small enclosed spaces (being locked in a cryonic pod will do that to a guy); losing those he cares about again (he – has a lot of trauma from seeing Victoria shot, Shaun kidnapped, then trying to open Emily's pod after he finally got out, only to see her corpse half-rotted inside)
- Guilty pleasure: Pre-War, it would have been comics – he was always a little embarrassed about how much he continued to like the adventures of Grognak and the Unstoppables and whatnot after his teenage years (not helped by his mother sneering at the stories). Post-War, though, he ditches the "guilty" part – especially after meeting Kent Connolly and getting to play Silver Shroud. XD I'm not sure he has one post-War – he occasionally feels weird about how much he enjoys modifying his weapons and armor? But that's quite practical as well as pleasurable, so. . .
- Biggest pet peeve: Being rapidly promoted in organizations that he's only just joined (Preston, you're easily one of his best friends, but SERIOUSLY, dude, GENERAL?)
- Ambitions for the future: To continue keeping his little portion of the Commonwealth safe, and start training up someone with some more Charisma to be the General of the Minutemen once he retires (he's still not sure why people follow him when he's so socially awkward)
LAYER THREE: THOUGHTS
- First thoughts waking up: Depends on what wakes him up. If he's waking up on his own, it's generally a variation on "Breakfast? Where breakfast?" If someone else wakes him up, it's generally "Why are you shaking/licking me, I don't wanna get up yet." And if it's combat nearby, it's generally "SHIT WHERE'S MY GUN oh wait are they shooting at me still should find gun."
- What they think about most: All his various responsibilities – finding his son, acting as General of the Minutemen, working with the Railroad, helping the people on the settlements, wondering what the hell is going to happen between him and the Brotherhood of Steel, or him and the Institute. . .it doesn't do much for his anxiety, is what I'm saying.
- What they think about before bed: If he's not exhausted enough just to collapse onto the nearest sleeping surface, then probably what I mentioned above. He's probably up late trying to plan routes to help settlements that have called for assistance and follow leads on the Institute and whatnot.
- What they think their best quality is: Victor would consider it his willingness to be helpful whenever possible. He generally enjoys helping people, and it makes him feel better in general to help improve the Commonwealth in some small way. (Not to mention, him helping out personally with the problems of a lot of the families/communities in the Commonwealth has earned him a lot of friends for his Minutemen! A General so hands-on seems to impress people.)
LAYER FOUR: WHAT’S BETTER?
- Single or group dates: . . .this gets a little harder to answer when he was in a polyamorous relationship pre-War, you know. XD But yeah, Victor prefers one-on-one, or one-on-two in the case of Victoria and Emily. A group date puts the pressure on him to perform like the perfect boyfriend/husband, and he doesn't need the extra stress. Maybe he'd be okay with a double date if it was with some very close friends.
- To be loved or respected: Victor would rather be loved, or at least liked – though part of that is low self-esteem telling him people aren't going to respect him. (Or like him, for that matter.) It's what informs his desire to help people, at least in part.
- Beauty or brains: While Victor isn't immune to a nice face or body, he really likes having someone he can talk to about stuff. Sharing interests is fun, and he appreciates someone who will at least try to keep up with his nattering on about butterflies and robots and whatnot.
- Dogs or cats: Dogs! Victor gets along decently with cats, but he is first and foremost a dog person. He had a dog named Scraps when he was a child, and he, Victoria, and Emily were making plans to adopt one before the bombs fell. Meeting Dogmeat at the Red Rocket really helped pull him out of his post-War "almost everything I knew is gone and I'm a stranger in my own state" funk.
LAYER FIVE: DO THEY?
- Lie: Yup. Victor will tell the usual social "white lies" (even if he's not very good at them), and he's done bigger lies in the past – like not telling his parents that Emily was more than their "roommate." (Of course, that was done not to have a family blowout about him and his wife having a girlfriend.)
- Believe in themselves: Not usually – as stated, Victor has pretty low self-esteem, thanks mostly to growing up with a mother who was criticizing him and everything he was when she wasn't absent doing social climbing stuff. It's hard for him to think of himself as being someone who has worth, sadly. He gets better when he starts seeing more results of his actions in helping the Minutemen and the Railroad, and realizes he's genuinely making a difference for people.
- Believe in love: Yes – his relationship with Victoria and Emily was one of the high points of his pre-War life. He was utterly heartbroken when Victoria was shot, and Emily later died due to the life support to the other pods being cut off. But then later he meets Alice, and. . .well, it takes some time, but he manages to come around to loving and being loved again.
- Want someone: Pre-War, not really – he was in a happy threesome and wasn't currently looking to expand. Post-War, most of his life precludes wanting anyone – though he does develop a bit of a crush on Piper as time goes on. And then, of course, he meets Alice, and eventually ends up wanting her. . . (Yes, in-game I intend for him to romance Piper – and there's a chance in the AU he, Piper, and Alice would end up in a poly situation. We'll see where this goes!)
LAYER SIX: EVER?
- Been on stage: Pre-War, never officially – Nell had him play piano at some of her parties (which was always stressful, as he felt all her guests were either judging him or just hated him for being related to her), but that was as far as performing got. He of course had the speech he was asked to do that he was practicing the day the bombs dropped, but – well, the bombs dropped. Post-War – he probably will have to give some inspirational speeches to his Minutemen troops, which he will somehow get through and then go have a little quiet panic attack somewhere.
- Done chems/drugs: . . .I have occasionally toyed with the headcanon that Victor was unwillingly dosed with Psycho, or a drug like it, back in his Army days and has been haunted by the experience ever since. But other than that, not the hard stuff – Victor doesn't even smoke (he tried once – after nearly coughing up a lung, he refused to ever try again) and he tends not to drink (he's tried that too, and discovered he's an embarrassingly chatty drunk, so he doesn't typically indulge). He will, of course, take Rad-X and Rad-Away, because those are freaking necessary to survive in parts of the Wasteland.
- Changed who you were to fit in: Occasionally attempted, never stuck. He's not good at keeping up a facade. One of his most embarrassing memories is trying to ask a girl to dance at a party his mother dragged him to when he was about 16, imitating the more popular "jock"-kinda guys, and getting laughed at so much he retreated to the buffet for the rest of the night.
LAYER SEVEN: FAVORITES
- Favorite color: Blue
- Favorite animal: Dogs, butterflies
- Favorite movie: Victor will confess to a love for schlocky monster movies, so he was quite enamored of Night of the Fish Men's Revenge when it came out (he's quite excited when he sees it in the projector in Eden Meadows Cinema, and quite sad that he can only get it to play the title screen). He also enjoyed Another Day In the Monster Factory for much the same reasons.
- Favorite game: With his affinity for comic books and a secret love of roleplaying (which becomes not-so-secret once he starts Silver Shrouding), Grognak & The Ruby Ruins quite appeals to him. He likes that it has some replay value too, with changing up your party and whatnot. The action of Pipfall appeals to him too, though that time limit can be stressful!
LAYER EIGHT: AGE
- DOB: June 9th, 2050 (he was 27 and a few months when the bombs dropped)
- Day of their next birthday, they will be: His next birthday according to the game would be June 9th, 2088 – he'd be 238 in terms of time passed, 28 in terms of biology
- Age they lost their virginity: Twenty – Victor had been yanked by the Army into Canada to help with the Sino-American war shortly after graduating high school, but got some leave around his twentieth birthday to go home. He immediately caught back up with his high school sweethearts, Victoria and Emily, and ended up doing the deed with Victoria. They managed to keep it a secret from their conservative parents, fortunately.
- Does age matter: In general? Victor is willing to listen to advice from those older than he is, certainly – though he tends to take it with a grain of salt depending on their obvious biases. In a relationship? Unless one of the parties is a minor, Victor won't get involved, though bigger gaps will probably make him wonder what exactly they see in each other. (He allows this is hypocritical of him to a degree, as Alice is much older than him even taking into account the freezing – but on the flip side, she was Embraced at 20, he was frozen at 27. . .)
LAYER NINE: IN A BOY OR GIRL
- Best personality: Victor likes people who are sweet and kind, but have a tougher or sassier side to them as well. Victoria leaned mostly toward the "sweet" side, but was also pretty determined when it came to getting what she wanted from him; Emily was cheerful and enthusiastic, but if you angered her – wooo boy; Alice of course is snark incarnate, but is kind to people and generally likes helping others. Even Piper is one of the kinder companions, but doesn't shy away from sarcastic comments.
- Best eye color: Well, Victoria and Emily both had blue eyes (of differing shades), and Alice's green eyes were one of the first things that struck Victor about her, sooo. . .blue or green!
- Best hair color: I'm not sure Victor has a preference here – Victoria was a super-light brown, almost gray; Emily was a blonde; Alice has dark hair that looks black or brown depending on the light/how well cared for it is (and she says her hair was almost red when she was a kid!); Piper has dark brown/black hair. I guess pre-War he went for lighter; post-War he goes for darker?
- Best thing to do with a partner: Victor likes finding some sort of creative interest they can share, or at least do at the same time. He would sit in the living room and draw while Victoria embroidered in the afternoons; and he and Emily both played piano, so they'd often have little duets. With Alice, he probably ends up illustrating some of the stories she tells – maybe eventually they throw together a book of sorts, with Piper's help!
LAYER TEN: FINISH THE SENTENCE
- I love: Alice! And the rest of my friends too, of course.
- I feel: completely out of my depth, most of the time.
- I hide: how anxious all of this makes me – not sure how well I'm succeeding, but. . .
- I miss: the life I had before, in Sanctuary.
- I wish: that Victoria and Emily hadn't – that t-they were still here to meet the friends I've made.
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crewhonk · 5 years
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Of The Line (6)
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Summary: The team meet Vision, Giovanna and YN talk boys, Pietro introduces himself
Words: 3.8K
AN: PLEASE, PLEASE COMMENT AND LIKE AND REBLOG OUR WORK! We’re getting a little discouraged due to the recent lack of notes on this series!
Till The End Masterlist / Of The Line Masterlist
_____________________________________
The next morning, YN woke to the sound of Natasha in the shower and Giovanna rustling restlessly in the bed next to her. She was groaning at the prospect of getting up and just as YN threw back the sheets to rise, Giovanna grunted and threw her arm over YN’s waist, not letting her leave to get ready for the day.
“Dude, we gotta get up.” YN laughed and Giovanna huffed, not saying anything. “We have to get ready to go back home— we have shit to do.”
“You are really not great to wake up to, you know that?” Giovanna grumbled and fell onto her back, throwing her arms dramatically over her face to block out the light.
“Oh yeah? And who would you want to wake up next to? Carter Baizen?” YN teased and sat up, hunching her back before straightening it and letting her spine crack.
“Someone who looks similar,” Giovanna mumbled. They hadn’t spoken about their Visions as fo yet, but there was something that told YN that it was about this similar looking guy. YN walked over to her duffel and pulled out a long sleeve, throwing it on and running her hands through her hair.
“Lance Tucker?”
“Very funny.”
“Dayton White?”
“Oh, I forgot about him.”
“How could you? You walked about fucking him in his racer for at least a month.” YN grinned, wiping the leftover mascara off of her face in the vanity mirror.
“True, but no.”
“Gio?” YN said, pulling a sound from Giovanna. “Was your vision about Bucky?”
The stretch of silence answered her question and YN could feel her heartbreak for her friend. This case had pulled Giovanna away from everything, and she could see the stress of finding Steve’s best friend in her behaviours.
“Yeah.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?” YN asked.
“No.”
“Do you wanna hear about what I did last night?”
“What did you do last night?”
“Steve almost kissed me.”
“WHAT.” __________________
“This is a big mission. We need everyone exactly where they’re needed, and for you and Giovanna that is at the compound preparing for the package.” Steve reprimanded the impatient YN who had actually stomped her foot when he said she and Giovanna were to return to the tower with Bruce.
“Come on, Steve. You and I both know you need all hands on deck.” She whined, and he had half a mind to smile at her adoringly. Instead, he furrowed his brows even more and crossed his arms.
“We need all the best hands. You two haven’t gotten the proper training for something like this, and we would all be able to focus on the task at hand if I know— we all know that you’re home safe.” YN caught the slip-up, and she turned her head to avoid showing him the natural flush of her cheeks. They had yet to talk about the night before, but something between the two people had changed. There was no change in behaviours, but even Bruce had picked up on how they seemed to be dancing around each other almost playfully.
“Don’t use your captain voice on me.” She surpassed a grin, trying her damn best to keep her pout going for as long as possible— anything to make him keep looking at her the way he was now.
“Guess what?”
“What.”
“I’m using my captain voice on you. Go home. Stay safe. Get ready for us to get there.” YN broke the act, laughing lightly and looking up at him through her lashes.
“What’s in it for me?” She asked, rocking back on her heels and then her toes. He looked at her fondly, eyes dropping to her lips and blushing when he met hers again— the satisfaction of her affect on him completely apparent.
“Satisfaction of a job well done?”
“Do better.”
“I’ll stop waking you up for morning runs?”
“Stop waking me /and/ Giovanna up for morning runs and you got a deal.”
“Less grumpy kids for me to deal with the better. Fine. Go home.”
“See you there.”
He really liked the idea of going home to her.
_____________________
Nat had gone missing— taken by Ultron in his haste to have something to hold over the teams' heads— a sense of immunity, as Tony had called it.
Giovanna and YN had called it bullshit as they stomped anxiously and angrily around the lab, slamming tools into place and glaring at anything that had chosen to breathe the wrong way. They had stayed close to each other, and YN tried not to show just how horrified of the situation she was. This— this had been a part of the Witches Vision. Everyone whether willingly or unwillingly was going to leave her and it was wholly out of her power.
Just as her heart rate and breaths began to pick up, Giovanna placed a hand on her back. The weight of it calming YN.
“She’s going to be okay. We would know if something happened.” Giovanna whispered, reaching around to grab a wrench from he desk YN was leaning on. “We’re going to be okay.”
YN turned, then and saw her dad and uncle talking low in the doorway. Clint on top of the package they had just received (containing a red and silver humanoid robot in it) trying his very best to jam his fingers in any crevice to open it. Saw her best friend there, too, smiling at her despite her eyes filled to the bring with anxiety. Even JARVIS had made a surprise return— protocols, personality, even the command Giovanna and YN created which made JARVIS play “Cheerleader” by OMNI whenever they had done something right and cheered for their project success.
Things were going to be okay.
____________________
Things were most certainly not going to be okay.
“Our dads are crazy. They’re actually psychotic.” YN whispered from the other side of the glass wall in the lab. She was pouring over her notes she had made when she was nineteen, trying to find a flaw in their plan— anything that would stop Tony and Bruce from making the same mistake.
“Where do you think we get it from?” Giovanna sighed, pulling on a new suit arm prototype— a stealth weapon, apparently, despite the many wires currently exposed. Giovanna pointed a finger at a dartboard they had set up and shot a small, single blast at it, hitting the bullseye. At Giovanna’s ‘whoop’, “Cheerleader”  began to play.
YN and Giovanna laughed and thanked JARVIS.
“Anytime, ladies.” He replied.
Their celebrations as caught short, however, when three shadows entered the lab in the low lighting. The middle man was Steve, YN knew that easily, but the two people following him made a cry erupt from YN’s mouth.
“YN what— are you okay? Oh, holy Christ on a cracker.”
The twins flanked Steve, both looking nervous, both looking cautious, both looking exponentially scared at the sight of Tony standing over the coffin-shaped package. YN and Giovanna rushed out of their half of the lab, shoving the doors open and meeting Steve’s hard glare head-on.
“Did you two have any hand in this?” He growled, pointing a finger at both of them. The Dads made sounds of protests and moved to stand in front of their daughters before they could respond.
“Hell no! You know we’ve never fucked with AI, Steve.” Giovanna protested. “We stepped away the second they even started mentioning it.”
Steve looked to YN and she nodded, confirming Giovanna’s story and leather notebook in hand. The boy twin had yet to take his eyes off of her, and she shifted her weight at the intensity of his stare. She had showered and simply put on leggings and a hoodie, hair swept into a tight bun at the base of her neck, and she didn’t like anyone but Giovanna, her father and Natasha see her like this, let alone the man of her dreams and a stranger particularly keen on gaining her attention.
“I would never, but—“ She stared, tearing her eyes away from the silver-haired man. She looked at her dad and held up her notebook. “I was trying to find an issue with this plan of yours, and the only one I could find was that his personality would be pre-developed. There’s no way of manipulating or controlling his behaviour after you do this— he won’t be taught like a puppy or a kid— he’ll already have his own beliefs and his own opinions separate from that of us or JARVIS. There are too many unknowns in his psychology that it’s too much of a risk.” She explained.
“So, physically he’ll be perfect, but mentally he’ll be a wild card.” Tony hummed, crossing his arms and looking down at the humanoid. “He’ll fit right in.”
“Dad, no. This is out of your control. How can you but a shield around the world when you keep introducing new elements we don’t know how to control.” Giovanna stepped forward and placed a fist on her hip.
“This is the shield.” He replied, mimicking her posture and standing closer. YN averted her gaze, having been in the middle of far too many Stark Battles to know to get involved.
“Shut it down.” Steve snarled once more and YN pressed her thighs together in an attempt to stop any form of her body betraying her. Damn, she loved it when he was angry.
“You don't know what you're doing.”
“And you do? She's not in your head?” Bruce said, pushing YN behind him protectively. No way was he going to let this witch hurt his girl again. YN made to make a sound of protest when he took another step.
“I know you're angry.” The girls' voice was high-pitched and heavily accented, and YN’s heart broke. Jesus, they were just kids— this wasn’t their fault.
“Oh, we're way past that. I could choke the life out of you and never change a shade.” YN had never seen her dad this angry and not even show a remote sign of the green tinge in his skin. He was perfectly sober and perfectly angry and YN was perfectly afraid. Her grip was strong on his arm and his head twitched in her direction, acknowledging that he knew she was there.
“Dad, she’s young. She’s a product of circumstance.” Bruce grunted and YN squeezed her eyes before pulling the card she never showed. “I’m a product of circumstance. I’m only this good because I had a great teacher. She didn’t.”
“Banner, after everything that's happened—“ Steve tried to reason and YN could have facepalmed right then and there— he had to do his hero resining right now. Just as she had managed to get her dad to loosen up just the slightest.
“That's nothing compared to what's coming!” Tony shouted.
"You don't know what's in there!” The girl screamed back, fear making her hands shake. God, this was shattering YN, and by the looks of it, Giovanna felt similarly to her.
“This isn’t a game!”
“The creature—“
And then, in a sudden flash of speed and silver, the whole of the lab was destroyed. The silver-haired twin looked anxious but satisfied as he glared at the Bruce and Tony.
“No, no. Go on. You were saying?” He asked, accent thicker than his sisters. His eyes shot to YN and he winked, making YN drop her eyes nervously and Steve bristle. Damn it, it was hard to be on this kids side.
Then, much to Steve’s satisfaction and the redhead's horror, the glass shattered under his feet, sending him plummeting eight feet to the floor below. Clint stood there, staring down at him as the girl ran tot he edge of the hole Clint had just shot through.
“Pietro!” She cried, and YN looked towards the boy who was groaning on his back. Yeah, he seemed like a Pietro. Tony whipped to the control panel, moving to reroute the upload just as Steve threw his shield at the wall beside him. Tony as quick, however, and he pressed the button on his wrist, making his watch transform into a blaster and shooting Steve nine feet away from him.
“Steve!” YN cried, running from her fathers' protection and kneeling beside Steve who had a burn over his right shoulder. YN moved to touch it but hesitated and instead grasped Steve’s arm with one hand and guiding his face to look at her with the other.
“Hi, by the way.” He muttered teeth clenched at the pain he was feeling through the burn.
“You’re an idiot,” YN said, shaking her head and helping him up. He stumbled a little into her at the force of her pull and she looked up to him, his eyes already on her face. She was flashed back then, to the night previous— his hands on her waist, his lips brushing hers, promises of never leaving.
YN took a step away, then, needing to stay focused on the situation unfolding in front of them.
It wasn’t a huge deal, anyway, as Thor had appeared suddenly, jumped up on the casket and pulled his hammer to slam on the window just above the Humanoid’s forehead. Lighting surged through the room, and Steve turned, shielding YN from the blast with his own, and she pressed her forehead into his neck, bracing herself and most definitely not noticing how Steve smelled like subtle cologne and summer warmth.
The lights stopped flickering, and it took a second for the backup generators to kick in, plunging the team into silence and tension as they waited for something to happen. And happen it did.
The casket burst open and the man flew out of it, ending on the floor in front of them.
He was taller than YN had expected as she peeked from her place in Steve’s neck. Broad and lined with something resembling muscle. He had fingers, but no toes, and a bright yellow stone glimmering in the centre of his forehead. He looked around at them all, eyes frightened like a scared deer in headlights. He jumped at Thor, but Thor was quick to act, throwing him further across the room where he slid to a stop in front of the window, looking at himself.
YN could almost hear Giovanna say ‘me too, honestly.’
The rest of the team ran after him, and but he time they got there, the humanoid had morphed an outfit of grey and a cape very similar to Thor’s own. YN ran up the stairs and stopped to watch carefully as the creature moved towards them, less frightened but still cautious.
Few things had been explained in rapid succession following this birth.
The Vision, as Thor had named him, had a gem in his head apparently called an Infinity Stone. The yellow stone was of six— mind (the one in Visions head), time, soul, power, reality (which apparently wasn’t really much of stone at all) and space. Each of these stones could level a galaxy alone, but combined, they could destroy the universe.
“So why does this guy have a stone? Why don’t we destroy it?” YN asked, gesturing to The Vision vaguely. Thor shook his head.
“They cannot be destroyed— it was them who allowed for the Universe to be created and if one of them were destroyed, it would subsequently end.” He explained, and YN could hear Giovanna mutter quietly to herself (‘cool, cool, cool, cool, no doubt’) nervously.
“Okay, why is the stone in this guys forehead and not in a vault somewhere?” She asked.
“Having me here with you all is 98% safer than even the safest, highest guarded structure in the galaxy.” YN shot him a look— he was just born, what the hell did he know.
“Also, why does your "vision" sound like JARVIS?” Steve asked and it hadn’t been until then that she realized he was very much right. Steve walked up beside her, arms crossed (again) and staring both Vision and Thor down.
“We reconfigured JARVIS' matrix to create something new.” Tony piped up, and Steve huffed a sigh.
“I think I’ve almost had my fair share of new.” He muttered to YN who smiled up at him.
“Almost?” She asked quietly as the rest of the team continued to talk. Giovanna caught YN’s eye from over Steve’s shoulder and made a circle with two-fingered and slid one in and out of the hole. YN glared her quickly and missed the way Steve looked her up and down.
“Almost.”
“I looked in your head and saw annihilation,” Wanda growled and Vision looked to her, seemingly shocked for some reason at the sight of her standing up to him.
"Look again.” He murmured gently.
“Yeah. Her seal of approval means jack to me.” Clint glared.
“Their powers, the horrors in our heads, Ultron himself, they all came from the Mind Stone, and they're nothing compared to what it can unleash. But with it on our side—“ Thor cut himself off with a shrug and YN hated how smart and logical he could be in the scariest of situations. Admired it— but damn, it annoyed her. Any under pressure, both her and Giovanna threw plans out of the window and wung it (much tot he distress of almost everyone in the tower).
“Is it? Are you? On our side?”
“I am on the side of life. Ultron isn't, he will end it all.” Vision replied.
“What's he waiting for?”
Vision looked at Tony and there was a pause. “You.”
“Where?” Her father sounded weak, and tired and aged. YN would have moved to hug him, but she stood beside Steve, rooted in place— not only because she liked the way his arm brushed hers, or their fingers almost touched three times already, but because if she tried to walk, her knees would actually give out.
“Sokovia. He's got Nat there too.” Clint announced, and the team whipped their heads to him.
“Natasha’s alive?” Giovanna whimpered, and YN’s breath seemed to leave her whole body in one ‘whoosh’. Steve’s hand hovered over the small of her back, ready to catch her if she fell.
“If we're wrong about you if you're the monster that Ultron made you be—“ Bruce’s voice wavered.
“What will you do— oh,” Vision seemed to realize that the teams ere still fearful— still raring to defend each other against this new intruder. Even the twins seemed to be a little more guarded by Steve. “I don't want to kill Ultron. He's unique, and he's in pain. But that pain will roll over the earth, so he must be destroyed. Every form he's built, every trace of his presence on the net, we have to act now. And not one of us can do it without the others. Maybe I am a monster. I don't think I'd know if I were one. I'm not what you are, and not what you intended. So there may be no way to make you trust me. But we need to go.”
And in one sweeping motion, Vision swept to pick up Thor's hammer and walked out.
____________________
“I never did catch your name.” A voice piped up from behind YN, and she looked up from her guns and batons and harnesses to see the familiar sight of silver hair and cocksure smile. He walked over with a pair of new sneakers hanging from one hand, the other shoved into his pocket.
“YN. YN Banner.” She replied, smiling despite herself. “Sorry for punching you earlier this week.” She said, squinting at him.
He only shrugged. “I liked it.” And then he smiled and winked and YN felt her fingertips warm. He truly was a gorgeous man.
“You did?” She giggled and he leaned against the table, watching her pack her things in their places and strapping her uniform together.
“Not really, but someone as pretty as you paying any attention to a street cat like me? I’ll take it.” He murmured and she looked up, rosy cheeks and hot ears.
“Ain’t you just a smooth mother fucker.” She hummed, and zipped her jacket up to her neck and swept her hair into a tight ponytail. She shouldered her duffel back and he followed her out of the armoury, strutting beside her lightly.
“Only when I have a girl to impress.” He joked and she rolled her eyes, smiling.
“Oh, who would that be?” She played along as she entered the hangar walking to the quinjet that was fired up for them. He sped up, turning around and walking backwards so he could smile at her. She surveyed the room, seeing Giovanna and Tony talking about their suits and the new AI he had activated, Clint with Wanda seemingly talking sternly. She saw Thor and her dad talking and watching the agents load up the jet for them. Then, Steve, who saw the way that Pietro was looking at her and the way YN flirted back easily with a bright smile. Steve, who frowned and stormed into the jet. Steve, who much to the thrill of Giovanna, was amazingly, epically jealous.
“Here’s your comm,” Giovanna walked up to the pair of them, tight under-suit showing off her beautiful, tiny, strong body. She handed them the small tech pieces.
“I should go and see my sister,” Pietro said when he realized Giovanna was staring hard at YN. He had a sister, he knew that look. He turned, and YN tilted her head watching him go.
“You have a Steve, you know.” She said and YN rolled her eyes. “He’s super jealous.”
“He is not!” YN shot back, stuffing the comm in her ear and turning it on to make sure it was functioning.
“Is too. He’s pouting in the jet if you want to see it for yourself.” She replied, walking beside her and up the ramp. YN tried her best not to look up at the driver's seat— she didn’t want to give Giovanna the satisfaction.
“He won’t do anything about it though,” YN whispered, and Giovanna groaned in annoyance.
“Are you kidding me? He literally tried to kiss you last night.” She pulled on her Iron Suit censors over her ankles, waist, and wrists looking up at YN as she tied the laces on her boots.
“Yeah,” YN said, mimicking her and tightening up her own combat boots. “But he won’t try anything like that again. We were tired and emotional and it showed. It’s nice to have someone openly calling you pretty and making me feel more than a pining teenager.” YN whispered back, eyes darting over to Steve to make sure he wasn’t listening. He gave no indication of hearing anything if he was.
“I know, Bun.” Giovanna hummed and kissed her temple.
“I just want to get dicked.”
“I know, Bun.”
__________________________
Taglist (must reblog at least three chapters, send an ask to be added): buckybarneshairpullingkink / staringmoony / through-the-crevices / highladyofasgard / @i-am-always-famished / @filia-sapientiae / @somekryptonitewriting / @fashionlive15 / @godlymissbalor / @fanfictionjunkie1112 / @nerdy-bookworm-1998 / @songforhema / @army-crawl-andersen / @buckybarneshairpullingkink / @shynara51 / @deathofmissjackson / @a–1–1–3 / @liffydaze / @shymarvelfannanni / @freakpotterfan / @callie-bear15 / @sunflower-borhap-boys / @criedwolfwritings / @vxidnik / @captainomad / @lazinessisalliknow / jjlevin / @gwlaxygirl / liaswhorable
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Text
Sure Feels Right Ch. 5
I promise things will pick up. I just really want to lay the foundation for how these three come together
Taglist: @hllywdwhre, @xxkellsvixen19xx
Warnings: None really
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2019
@LuxBeALady:Just wait till Kells drops this heat on y’all tonight 😈                                 \@machinggunkelly:They don’t want this smoke 😂😈
Colson was dropping “I Think I’m OKAY” tonight and Lux was excited to help promote it with him. It was one of her favorites off the new album and now she could publically boast about it. Getting to experience him making it with Yungblud had been a blast and she just had a feeling that this was gonna be the game changer for Colson. To top off her excitement, she was also getting a new tattoo tonight, but nobody else was aware of that. She had made up an excuse in order to get away from the boys saying she needed to run errands in the town they were in for the night. She loved them immensely, but their overbearing nature was making it difficult to get any alone time. She shook her head and sighed walking into the only shop she had been lucky enough to get into on short notice.
“Hello you must be Lux” The lady behind the counter said smiling and reaching to shake her hand. Lux took her hand and admired her features. She was cute with a pink flowy wig, steampunk goggles on her head, and a corset that pushed her chest into her throat.
“Yes I am. Thank you so much for fitting me in today” Lux smiled warmly.
“So let me show you what I have drawn up based on your description on the phone and we’ll go from there.” She lead her over to a table where she had drawn almost exactly what Lux had pictured in her head.
“Oh my gosh that’s perfect” Lux couldn’t believe she had gotten it right first try just from a phone conversation.
“Well awesome!” Let’s get you prepped and then we can get started on this sucker. My space is down the hall to the right.” She responded clasping her hands together clearly just as excited to have nailed the design.
“It’s gonna go on my left arm because I am right handed and I still need to be able to do things while it heals” Lux stated getting comfortable in the chair and resting her left arm palm up.
“Sounds good to me. Do you care if I play some music? I can’t stand the same 5 songs on the radio.” She asked plugging her phone into a little speaker.
“I would actually prefer that” Lux laughed and then laughed a little harder when the first song that played off the girl’s phone was “Hollywood Whore”. Lux couldn’t escape her boys even if she tried.
Colson was confused as to why he hadn’t seen or heard from Lux all damn day. He knew she said she had to go on a booze run for the bus and for backstage to pregame the concert with, but that usually didn’t take all day. He pulled out his phone to double check she hadn’t texted him and contemplated biting the bullet and texting her first. His mind must not have caught up with his hands because next thing he knew he was sending her a text message.
Colson: Where r u?
Lux: I ran away forever
Colson: Wait what!?
Lux: Chill. I’m kidding. Look
Lux sent a picture of her at the liquor store holding a bottle of Jameson kissing the label. Man was she cute. He couldn’t stop thinking about the night they had fallen asleep together out of his head. He was almost desperate to feel her embrace again. They would be staying at a hotel again tonight due to the fact that tomorrow was an off day and he hoped that she would stay in the hotel room with him again. He wanted to be able to hold her close against his chest this time and bury his face in her hair. Rubbing his hand down his face he groaned, he was so fucked.
Rook was drumming on his leg in anticipation, still after all these years of performing, he had pre-show anxiety. It disappeared the moment he would get on stage and normally Lux was there to help. She would distract him from the anxiety and he was sure she didn’t even know that she was doing it. Either by laying her head in his lap and forcing him to play with her hair, challenging him to a silly game of some sort, or just by talking to him about things that held her attention at the time. Rook hadn’t heard from her all day though and that was maybe increasing his anxiety a little bit. Colson and Ash said she had texted them at least once that day, but she hadn’t texted him?
“Hey whatcha thinking about?” Lux asked walking onto the bus with a few bags of alcohol and Colson trailing behind her with more bags.
“Uh nothing” His ears felt hot “Damn Lux this much alcohol should last us all tour.”
She fixed him with a devilish smile that he swears she learned from Colson. “You and I both know that that is not true”
“Hey what’s up with the bandage on your wrist?” Colson said going to grab her arm when she yanked it away from him.
“Nope no peeking until after the show” She scolded giving that same evil smirk.
“Wait is that for a tattoo?” Rook asked trying to get a peek
“I said after the show!” And that was that.
2017
“Come on it won’t be that bad!” Colson was trying to convince Lux to drink with him and the boys. She had only been working for Ash for 8 months and didn’t think it was appropriate. This was her first tour with them and she didn’t want to fuck it up.
“I can’t Kells. I gotta keep you guys in check” She sighed.
“What better way to keep a good eye on us than to party with us?” He was giving her the best puppy dog eyes that he could. Lux groaned and put her face in her hands. In the few months that she had worked for them she had learned that Kells had perfected the puppy dog eyes and he knew it.
“Fucking fine I will have a few drinks” She relented.
“Fuck yeah dude!” Kells and Rook high fived celebrating their small victory.
Lux was definitely not prepared for one of their parties. How did they fit so many women on a single bus? How were people navigating all of this? Why were Kells and Rook climbing the bus now? She was in way over her head here and was feeling slightly overwhelmed when she felt another shot being pressed into her hand by Slim, who was equally chaotic as the other boys just much more quiet. She eyed him suspiciously.
“Take the fucking shot pussy” Slim snickered and lifted his own shot into the air. Well while in Rome, Lux thought downing her own shot. Thank god she had the good sense to purchase extra tequila for tonight.
Lux was now feeling very warm despite there being less bodies on the bus in favor of going to party at a club. The tequila was making her giggly and outgoing laughing easily with the boys.
“You smoke?” Kells asked lighting what was probably at least his tenth joint in the last couple of hours.
“Uh yes, but not usually on the job” Lux slurred which caused her to frown. She needed to pull it together.
“Well tonight that changes” Kells smirked. “This is a drinking and smoking kind of job so you don’t need to act so responsible.”
“I would be stupid to turn down a joint from THE Machine Gun Kelly” Lux giggled thinking she was hilarious.
“Fucking yes!” Colson exclaimed “You’re EST fam now so get used to this shit.” Lux took the joint from him winking before taking a hit. She was feeling bold and confident with the liquid courage in her veins and did a perfect ghost. Kells was impressed by how well she did and how adorable she looked smoking his joint. He almost didn’t want to take it back and was kind of wishing they were the only two in the room.
“I have an idea.” Kells said taking the joint from her before taking a hit. Lux gave him a puzzled expression as he motioned for her to come closer. When she got in close enough distance he softly grabbed her chin and placed his mouth hovering over hers brushing their lips together. She opened her mouth and he released the smoke he was holding into hers as she inhaled. He leaned back and silently celebrated how red he had made her. Lux slowly exhaled the smoke afraid to let the moment pass too quickly.
“Thank you I think? For that?” Lux tried to joke and seem nonchalant, as if his mouth on her’s had not ignited a flame inside of her. She had something unreadable in her eyes that he wanted to know more about. He liked this girl and he was hoping that she wouldn’t be gone in a year’s time like all the other assistants that had come before her.
“Are you two going to stare at each other all fucking night? If so can you pass the joint so some of us can smoke it.” Rook said startling to two out of the staring contest they didn’t realize they had been having. Both faces turned red and Kells grumbled something under his breath before passing the joint to Rook.
Lux was stumbling through the bus trying to find her bunk again. She had woken up to pee, after being passed out for god knows how long, and everything was pitch black. She made her way from the bathroom and down the hall and felt the wall until she felt her bunk and climbed into her bed again. She must have forgotten how small these beds really were because she was barely in and already backed up against the wall. Not thinking twice about it she closed her eyes and was back asleep in no time.
Rook had been fucked up when he had gone to sleep, he knew that, but he was fairly certain that he had gone to bed by himself. He slowly cracked open his eyes to try to catch a glimpse of who was in bed with him wincing at the light shining into the bus. He saw a mess of dark hair across his pillow and he nearly had a heart attack. What was Lux doing in his bed? She rolled over and yawned before snuggling into his chest as he held his breath. Her eyelids snapped open and she looked up at Rook’s face. She gasped and jumped back so far she fell out of the bunk and landed on her butt. She was so fired she just knew it.
“What are you doing in my bunk? Oh god we didn’t fuck did we? I can not afford to lose this job” Lux was suddenly rambling still laying on the floor.
“First good morning. Second we did not fuck, I went to bed alone. And last, this is my bunk. Yours is across from mine” Rook laughed at her expense. She felt like such an idiot for fucking up that badly. She made a mental note that she would never party with the boys again.
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