#+ his general dark vibes bring out the blues and dash of red | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wordynerdygurl · 5 years ago

Text

Seven Minutes in Heaven

Author’s Note: Well hello my friends! Since hitting 1000 Followers in July (WHAT?! STILL UNBELIEVABLE!!!) I’ve been working on the requests sent in by my amazing troop of readers! This is another one of those stories which I’m pleased to share. As always, help my unending need for validation but re-blogging or liking the story! Also, you can send asks, make your own request, follow me, or be added to my tag-list! Last, @sammy-jo1977 is my beta... and my ride or die home girl! Thanks lady! Pairing: Loki x Female Reader, appearances from most of the Avengers

Summary/ Request: @queenofmischief asked for a story where “Loki and you guys are friends growing up and you realize you like him and try to hide it but somehow at a party or something or another, maybe Seven Minutes in Heaven is involved, it comes out and really hot smut ensues?”

I used some of the ideas you gave me, dear reader, but made it a little more mature, so I sincerely hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Lots of 80′s references... music, movies, clothes, etc. References of smut, heavy petting and kissing

ENJOY!

"But, like, I really don't want to go." Your cellphone, pinned between your ear and shoulder, pushed your earring into the tender flesh behind your lobe. It probably didn't help that the jewelry in question was a pair of huge hoops, fluorescent in color and hard plastic.

You heard Wanda sigh, "Yea… I know. It's just, we all are… and you know it'll be worse if you don't show up."

"I really hate it." Using a sing-song voice didn't change the feelings behind your words. Going up to the main floor of The Avengers Tower for a theme party was not a thrilling idea.

"I know you do-", pulling open the door between your room and hers, you palmed your phone, frowning at your friend, "-But you look great!"

"Radical… or wicked… or tubular would be more 80's appropriate." Still, her compliment made you smile. It really was a great outfit, totally encapsulating the MTV generation's vibe, complete with hot lime colored leg warmers.

Your cropped REO Speedwagon t-shirt was cut off at the neck, dripping low enough to expose one whole shoulder, and a wide stripe of the magenta colored tank top underneath. Having tucked the camisole into your acid washed denim micro miniskirt, you finished the ensemble with a pair of black pumps, and the obligatory scrunchie of cheap yellow satin. It pulled your hair into a low, side ponytail.

For makeup you'd painted your eye-shadow on, bright turquoise with pink under your brows. Lipstick in a shimmery rosy hue brought extra attention to your lips. And you stored your cell phone, lip gloss and keys in your iridescent fanny pack.

Wanda couldn't help giggling at the sight of you and your collection of clashing colors. For her look tonight she'd dawned a pair of skin tight leggings, an over-sized button down shirt with a stretchy black belt that was about four inches wide. Ballet flats, teased out hair and stark makeup had Wanda looking like a video vixen. It was impressive.

"See, you went sexy… and I went silly." Pouting now, you flopped onto your bed, "Can I just not?"

Sitting down next to you, patting your knee, "You don’t look silly, but you do look like you could be a hair band groupie! That’s sexy!” Shrugging your shoulders, unconvinced, Wanda added, “Besides, tonight… It may be fun. And, worse case? You get blitzed like a teenager on prom night."

"No… that's not the worst case. Worst case? He's there."

Sighing, Wanda shook her head, "He does still rub you the wrong way, huh? And, yes, he may be there… but-" standing, taking you with her, "-it would be a shame to waste all your wicked cool work!"

Hearing her use the dated vernacular made you grin. She was right. Tonight could be a blast, if you were able to get out of your head. Jumping off the bed, unsettling one of those fashionable leg warmers, you hugged your friend tightly. You could do this. You wouldn't be alone. And if Loki was there, he'd just have to get over it. You weren't going to pay him any attention.

---

"Mr. Loki… can we please go? We're already stupid late."

Bending to straighten his red suspenders, Loki smirked at himself, "Greed is good."

Sighing, exasperated and edging into anger, Peter pulled open the front door, "I don't know what that means, but you look… greasy."

"Like I could steal your company in a corporate take over? Maybe steal your woman too", Loki questioned, excited at the idea.

Crossing his arms over the red puffy vest he had bought specifically for tonight, Peter grunted, "Uh… I… I guess. I meant more like one of the assholes in Wolf of Wall Street."

God, you had better be there tonight. Loki was putting a lot of hope on Stark’s little shindig and he wanted to make sure that all of the little details were absolutely perfect, giving him every advantage. Standing now, slicking back his long dark hair, "That, my young spider friend, is exactly what I am going for… Evil 80′s CEO."

"Great."

Loki heard the frustration in the young man’s voice. Someday he would understand, Loki thought, turning to the youthful Avenger beside him, "You certainly make a dashing Marty McFly, Peter. Truly."

"Aw! Really, Mr. Loki? Ya mean it?" That made the Spider Boy preen, popping his collar, and standing a little straighter.

"I do! Now-" flashing a rakish smile to his reflection as he passed, "-let's get upstairs and see how everyone else is doing!"

---

Everyone else was ready to party. The last mission, a particularly difficult one, involved Hydra agents banging it out against our heroes along the rough terrain of the polar ice cap. Draining the physical and emotional resources of everyone, including you and Loki, Tony had planned a little party to kick off a period of rest and relaxation.

As soon as the elevator opened you knew it was going to be an insane night. Everything was brightly lit. Paper streamers were strung up haphazardly along the walls and ceiling. Big plastic buckets of chips and cheese curls were put out on the counter along with a huge punch bowl that reeked of rum and sugary fruit juice. On the floor in the kitchenette was a garbage can, freezing, full of ice, only the keg tap visible. A stack of red plastic cups was at the ready.

Someone had ordered pizza. Well, dozens of pizzas. The boxes were piled along the table already crammed with pretzel bags and Doritos.

Steve was being instructed on the basics of Beer Pong and, you decided, definitely being hustled by Sam. Bucky looked on with curiosity, quietly sneaking closer to the chips and dip, hoping no one would notice. Rhodey was watching them both through the reflective lenses of his aviator shades, doing a great job of looking like a Top Gun cadet, including the tight jeans and broken-in bomber jacket. Grinning as he drank down a bottle of beer, Rhodes shouted, "Hey Stank! Is all of this really necessary?"

"Don't come for me Rhodey!" Wearing a pair of neon leopard spotted knit pants, a green polo shirt and white sneakers, Tony was clutching a glass bowl filled with little slips of paper to his chest. No one had managed to figure out what they were or why he held them. Drinking two beers from his plastic, can holding helmet, Tony would answer only with a slightly slurred, "It's my trashy 80′s party and I do what I want!"

And Tony had thought of everything. Sounding like a mixed tape pulled from the radio, the tunes didn't let up! Ratt, Foreigner, Cindi Lauper, Madonna and Tom Petty all took turns blasting through the room. So many hits from the past pumped through the sound system, getting people on their feet and keeping them there. You were swinging and swaying along, having a blast, but when Bon Jovi hit the group of Intergalactic Warriors went wild.

Clint, rocking a mullet wig and a vest with no shirt, jumped onto a table making the motions of an air guitar champion. Singing into a beer bottle like it was his microphone, "Whoooooaaaa we're halfway there…"

Guffawing, you hid behind your Bud Light filled cup, already red cheeked from the non-stop laughing and alcohol in your system. At some point you had given up Wanda to Vision in a varsity jacket, doing his best jerk-off jock impression, and not quite pulling it off. It wasn't his fault that he was too polite to put people down in the way of Eighties movie bad guys. Alone, feeling flushed, but happy, you needed a break and some quiet. Flinging yourself onto the soft sofa, watching the frat house style antics unfold all around, you couldn’t help laughing. Tony always found a way to knock the group out of their post mission funk. Sometimes that meant week long Caribbean vacations and sometimes that meant dressing up in retro attire and scream singing with a cold beer in your hands. Either way, it seemed to bring everyone closer together, and the pictures were certainly worth framing. The couch dipped as someone joined you. Swiveling, not quite drunk but not quite sober, you couldn’t help the groan that left you. “Oh. It’s you.”

Not exactly the response Loki wanted, he was just grateful that you spoke to him at all. Lately you seemed to flee any room he entered, a hurt and heavy sigh escaping you before you'd make your exit, never looking back. Loki couldn't understand why.

After all, it had been two months since that night. The one where he'd stumbled on you, glowing blue in the light of the television set, alone and in the darkness. You asked him to join you, he had accepted.

The movie was called "Say Anything" and Loki had to admit, as far as romance on film went, this story was very moving. But that was an unexpected bonus to being so near to you. Before the credits rolled, you had burrowed against him, snuggled under his arm with your head on his chest.

Stroking your hair, Loki pressed a kiss to your forehead, thoughtlessly, naturally. Pushing away, looking up at him through hooded lashes, "You… you kissed me?"

Words failed the silver tongued devil, something he still pondered all these weeks later, so a nod was all you got for a response. Kneeling, your sleep shirt riding over your thighs, Loki watched your small hand rising to cup his cheek. Feeling your lips against his own was the beginning of the best night of his life.

And then, nothing. It was like a switch had been thrown and no matter how many ways he tried to reach out for you, Loki wasn't able to connect. Not like that night.

So, he was going against his nature tonight. Joining the group, drinking a bit of his brother's mead, wearing a dated but pristine business suit. All done in the vain hope that something would shift in his favor.

He had already lost too many nights to memories of you. Soft, full skin under his broad palms. The tiny moan you exhaled when Loki’s tongue met your own. How your wet, willing body accepted him, without question or stipulation. And in the afterglow, when your head rested in the crook of his neck and your cherry cola scented breath circled him, you let Loki hold you close.

But he buried it all. Tonight he was the embodiment of all things slick. Nothing could stick to him; not when he had a goal in mind and this much gel in his hair. Loki Odinson would be taking you home tonight, come hell or high water. Wolfish, Loki’s grin was wicked, “Yes. Your dream has come true.” Sitting back, he crossed his designer suit covered knee at the ankle, exposing socks with little golfers on them. He let his right arm rest along the back of the sofa, not around you… not yet, but inching closer. “What is that cologne you’re wearing?” “Don’t you like it? I’m told Drakkar Noir was quite the scent of the 80′s. I did my research.” Twisting, you looked him over, impressed despite yourself. The suit was totally of its time. Black, pinstriped and you were sure the jacket that came with it was draped somewhere safe. His shirt was shiny but soft and bright, blinding white. Suspenders of red matched the tie that draped down the center of his chest. With his hair combed straight back and held in place with some kind of product, Loki looked like he was capable of eating a six course lunch at Sardi’s, complete with dirty martinis, then jetting back to the office in time to defraud a corporate spending account. The kind of executive that blackmails a co-worker with pictures of a mistress. The kind of douche bag that tries to take over a rec center to build a mall. In short, an avarice little asshole. So, why was it so hot? “It’s… overpowering.”, boy, was that an understatement. Loki’s whole aesthetic was overpowering right now. And, was he moving closer? His bent knee brushed against your own as he leaned near enough to be heard at a whisper, “You look adorable, you know that?” Scrunching into the corner of the couch, eyeing him suspiciously, “Oh? Really?” “Really.”, his hand brushed over your exposed shoulder, making you jump at his touch.

Uh uh. No way. You would not be so easy to seduce this time around. Even if those wide hands sent goosebumps growing all over your body, Loki would not charm his way into your panties again. Not like last time.

It had been spontaneous. Genuine, at least for you. And in the moment, it felt like Loki had given you a little piece of himself, a tenderness that no one else ever saw in the far flung Frost Giant.

Maybe that's why Clint's words hurt so much. He had told you so casually, holding up a spoonful of Cheerios, "Loki said his last girl was a drag. Basic bitch? Is that what the kids say?"

Thinking about it now made your heart hurt. You had given yourself to someone who thought you were beneath him. Loki couldn't want you. You would never be good enough.

But that night haunted you. His soulful kisses that stole your breath. The drag of Loki’s hands over the swell of your bottom as you straddled his hips. His solid chest under your own hands, dark head curved against the couch cushion, but those burning eyes never leaving your face. “I thought you said I was plain. Simple. Boring.”

Leveling his own words back at him made Loki straighten in his seat. How could you think that? Unbalanced, stammering, “Uh… I… I’d never…” “Never expected me to find out? I believe that. And, let me tell you this-” Pushing yourself up with the help of the couch’s arm, you rose on unsteady legs, “-I’m not nearly drunk enough to fall into your arms again.” Spinning away, you made a dash towards the people in the kitchen, without looking back. Watching you go, Loki could do nothing but stare after your retreating form, flummoxed.

“That was… painful.”

He knew that voice well enough, frustrated, confused and unfit for company, “Go away, Tony.”

“I don’t think I will. In fact-” sitting down in your empty spot, patting Loki’s knee, “-I’m going to make myself comfortable. Now, tell Uncle Tony all about it.”

Rolling his eyes, unable to find you in the crowd, Loki risked a sideways glance at his replacement companion. Was he really going to indulge in this? Tell his almost friend about you… about your one night together? Loki raked his hands through the pomade in his hair, growling low, “If you breathe a word of it Tony, I’ll-” Lowering his wrap around sunglasses, peering at Loki, Tony smiled, “Your secret is safe with me.” ---

Thinking less and less about Loki as the night went on should have been a relief but it seemed like the scent of him followed you everywhere. Unable to get free of him, you busied yourself with drinks, dancing, and munching like you were a kid again. Anything to keep your mind from wandering.

It's not like the party was boring. Not at all! There was plenty to distract you and you let it. Natasha made you her partner for beer pong and somehow you successfully won against Rhodey and Sam.

Next, Wanda needed you, which is how you wound up sitting on the bathroom sink listening to her go on about Vision in that wistful, loving way that made your own heart ache. Being a little drunk, you had to fight the urge to cry because you were lonely and hurting. “I saw you talking to Loki… what was that about?” She was reapplying ruby red lipstick, studying herself in the mirror, not looking directly at you.

Wanda's voice cut through your self doubt spiral though, something you were thankful for, and with a casual tone you countered, “He was trying to get something started, I think.” Eyebrows lifting, Wanda’s interested piqued, “Really? Loki was hitting on you?” “Yea… I mean, I think so. Was coming on awfully strong too. But… he’s been a jerk, right?”

Wanda cleaned up her eye make-up taking a minute, after washing her hands she looked at you, “I mean, he is here.” “So?” “So, you know he’s not really a joiner. More of a lone wolf. In fact, I think this may be the first of these little parties he’s come to. Maybe he’s changed… grown a bit? And, honestly, you never asked him about-”

Hopping off the counter, cutting her off, more than a little huffy at her good sense, “No, I didn’t and I don’t plan to. Loki thinks I’m a bore? Too basic for him? Fine. I have better things to do with my time.” Laying her hand on your shoulder, Wanda stopped you, eyeing you in the mirror once more, “I know his words hurt… but you’re going to have to clear the air eventually. Especially if we’re all going to work together.”

Shrugging, you offered your friend a small smile. There was truth in her sentiment, even if your slightly drunken brain rebelled against hearing it, “Yea, you're right… plus-” looking around the small washroom, just to make sure no one could hear the pair of you, “- he looks really hot tonight!”

Giggling, Wanda hugged you close, “I didn’t want to say anything, but… yea he does!” The pair of you were still laughing together, standing at the back of the crowd as Tony turned down the music, announcing, “Gather round children, Uncle Tony needs your attention!” There were a few groans, mostly from the beer pong table, as apparently Bucky was unhappy about forfeiting his winning match. Everyone else, in all their high haired glory, were congregating near their host, curious and more than a little drunk.

“Tony, what the hell, man? You killed the tunes!”, Clint shouted, spilling Bud Light foam as he joined the tightening circle. “Patience, my drunk friend. You all remember this?” From the table nearby, Tony picked up his glass bowl, triumphant, “Our Destiny!”

Pepper, sighing with a smile, “So dramatic!” Shaking the bowl in her direction Tony smirked, “Ok smarty, then you pick first. Go on… Pick!” There were oohs and ahhs from the assembled Avengers. Rolling her eyes, Pepper reached in, grabbing the first slip her fingers found. Pulling it free, she grinned, eyeing Tony, “It says ‘Loki’...” Hearing his name, Loki snapped his head up, surprise registering on his face, “Excuse me?” Holding it up for his examination, Pepper waved the slip under the regal nose of the junior Odinson, “See… your name.” “Yes, but why?”

Butting in, Tony snatched the scrap from the hand of his lovely fiance, practically dancing with glee. Turning to Loki, “Now you, Gordon Gecko, pull a slip.” Aware of all eyes locked on him, Loki reached into the jar, digging around a little more than necessary. Finally satisfied, the thin paper pinched between his fingers, Loki opened the folded note. When his fierce gaze met yours, you knew without a doubt. It was your name he had grabbed. Throwing a thick arm across Loki’s broad shoulders, Tony hugged him close, “Well? What’s it say?” It all made sense in that moment. The tacky costumes, flat beer and endless music. A drunken moment of clarity had descended. Tony, waving his arms, eating up the crowd’s reactions, heads turning to gauge your response. Swallowing hard, your hearing failing you, you just faked a smile. You and Loki were going into the closet for Seven Minutes in Heaven. Only there was no way you were going to do that. Not after what he’d said. Not after your one night together, right? But you felt a gentle hand pushing your forward, into the center of your circle of friends and for some reason, your feet followed.

Refusing didn't enter your mind. With everyone ogling you and Loki, making a scene would only cause more speculation, something you weren't keen to do. Instead, you stepped next to Tony, outwardly eager to play along.

You just shouldn't have dared to look at your proposed make out partner. Laser focused, Loki’s lusty look hadn’t wavered. No, the light in those thundering blue eyes was carnal, darker than you had ever seen, matching your own. Against your better judgement, you wanted Loki, too.

Whatever Tony was saying was a blur, merely sounds, because you were utterly stunned by the nearness of Loki. The roaring laughs of the rest of the group were drowned out by your pounding heart. A door opened to a dim room, the pantry maybe? You didn’t know and in that moment you didn’t really care.

With a small smile, Loki ducked into the cupboard, lacing his fingers with yours, offering a bit of his strength. Dragging you inside, your body pinned between a shelf of snacks and the hard body of your frenemy, a whimper of want passed your lips. Loki still smelled so good and now he was so close. “Have fun you two!”, Tony’s words were accompanied by the door shutting you and Loki inside, in the dark. Surrounded by silence, Loki’s sharp pants were the only sound louder than your racing pulse, which was saying something. Afraid to move, afraid of spooking you, Loki struggled to search your stare in the low light. He had already experienced your angry dismissal of his attention tonight. It wasn't something he wanted to relive, not when you were so close with sweet and speedy breath, your chest brushing against his own at each exhale.

Lifting a hand, grazing over your uncovered shoulder, Loki's touch was electric. You moved towards it, towards him, needing more of his energy. Craving it.

Bold in the dark, you grabbed at Loki’s suspenders, tugging him closer. Rising on your toes, covering some of the distance between your mouth and his, you pressed a hot kiss to those soft, pink lips. Under your fluttering fingers Loki shivered, "Darling-"

"Shut up. I… I don't care."

"But I never…"

"I told you. I don't care. Now kiss me like you mean it, because we only have about six more minutes!"

Not needing any more encouragement, Loki found the flare of your hips in the shadows, molding your curves to the rigid planes of his body. Desperate, needy, you felt his tongue move against your own. Want, plain and simple, led your own fingers to the collar of Loki’s starched shirt and the tangle of his raven hair. Fisting it, tugging against those luscious locks, you couldn’t seem to get close enough to the tall God sharing your cupboard. Whining, his name on your lips, you drew Loki tight enough that the press of your breasts was edging towards pain. Demanding, true to your word, with every pass of Loki’s magical mouth over your own the last few weeks were forgotten. Hungry for more, Loki roughly squeezed the flesh of your ass, grinding you against his wool blend covered crotch. Stuttering, his arousal was so stiff, for a minute Loki worried about making a mess. But that feeling was replaced with unbridled ecstasy when your lips found the tender skin below his ear.

A nip, enough to make Loki hiss, was soon soothed by your sucking on the same spot. Resting your butt on the nearest shelf, you didn’t have to stand on tip-toe to reach the soft, sweet sections of Loki where you longed to lavish attention. He took advantage of your new position by sliding a free hand along the swell of your separated thighs. “I just need to feel you, dove. I need to know that you want me as much as I want you.” It was a husky whisper, directly into your ear, and it sent an arc of icy fire to your core. When his long fingers skimmed over the silky slick of your panties you moaned in unison, bucking into Loki’s touch, lost in the moment. Stepping between your legs, Loki took one of your hands into each of his own, pinning you wide open against the boxes of cereal and granola bars that lined the pantry walls. Devouring you slowly, Loki kissed along the column of muscles at your throat, across the exposed line of your clavicle. You could do little more than take his delicious torment as more and more of your sweat dappled skin was serviced by his silver tongue. “Yes… Loki…”, tumbling out of you, just like the night when you first came together, you crooned his name in delight. Breathless, boneless and broken with need. CLICK! The sound made you both freeze. Snapping swiftly, Loki’s head swung towards the door where the bright light and noisy crowd of the party was intruding into your private pantry. “WHOA, WHOA, WHOA! What do we have here?” Swinging into the tight space, Tony’s shrewd look took in the scene in seconds, “What were you two doing in here? It was a very quiet seven minutes!” Straightening to standing, Loki stood, blocking you from sight as you readjusted your clothes. Smoothing down his tangled strands, sarcasm dripping, “Talking. Very quietly.” When he was sure you were decent, Loki offered you his hand, and blinking you stepped back into the wild and raucous party still in full swing. Tony, flashing a knowing grin your way, nodded, “I hope you didn’t smush the chips! We still need those!” Giggling, you locked onto Loki’s arm, letting him lead you towards the keg and away from the shouted questions of your friends. You knew there was no mystery about what happened in those seven minutes. Hair mused, makeup smudged, lips swollen and shirts twisted, the pair of you were walking neon signs for getting to third base.

Silently Loki poured you a beer, taking a small glass of Asgardian mead for himself, before raising his glass your way. Returning his gesture, you downed the frothy ale fast, feeling a little parched after your spit swapping time in the hall closet. Boring into you, his eyes followed each of your movements, searching for a sign of your feelings. Dropping your empty cup on the counter, you turned and jumped onto the marble ledge, feet dangling. “Loki?” Placing his own glass down gently, Loki took his position between your bent knees, looking down at your darling face, “Yes?” “Did you say those things? That I was… boring? Basic?” Shaking his dark waves no, Loki bit into his bottom lip, “Never. What I said was, my last girl, ages ago, was those things… but my new lady-” tracing along your jaw, tipping your chin his way, “-she is everything I could ever want.”

“Am I… am I your new lady, then?” With a fierce flicker of fire in his eyes, Loki nodded yes this time, “Absolutely.” Leaning into him, arms around his neck, you tugged him down to meet your waiting lips. “Good. Good to know. Because I think I’m going to watch a movie tonight.” “Really? I recall really enjoying the last one.” “Hmm… me too.” Sliding off the counter, ducking under Loki’s long arms, you turned back to face him, “My room… say, an hour?”

Snapping his suspenders, smirking, “I’ll be there.” Watching you skip away made Loki’s pulse pound in anticipation. Pouring himself another glass of clear liquor, he chuckled, amazed at the change seven minutes had created.

“You’re welcome.” “Ah! Yes, many thanks Tony.”

Leaning against the counter, Tony knocked into Loki’s shoulder, “You’re cute together, Rock of Ages, but don’t make me regret helping you tonight! Treat her right.”

“Of course. I... truly, thank you.”, sincerity seeped from Loki at the favor from Tony. “No worries! No worries!” Waving away any additional gratitude, Tony looked over the group of half cocked, and totally cocked heroes before him, “Of course the real bitch was getting Pepper to pull your name from the bowl…”

My Marvelous Minxes tag-list: @queenofmischief @vodka-and-some-sass @just-random-obsessions @brokenthelovely @lots-of-loki @thefallenbibliophilequote @iamverity @iluvsumbucky @unadulteratedwizardlove @wolfsmom1 @procrastinatinglikeabitch @mizfit2 @shxdowofdarkness @nonsensicalobsessions @ahintofkiwistrawberry @jessiejunebug @rorybutnotgilmore @crystalizedcaramel @lokislittlecorner @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81 @caffiend-queen @thenatalie @sammy-jo1977 @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @is-it-madness @jenjen8675309 @alexakeyloveloki @poetic-fiasco

#loki x reader #loki x you #hot loki #loki smut #loki love #1000followers #mcu smut #mcu fanfiction #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #80's #80's loki #80's mcu

360 notes · View notes

theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 5 years ago

Note

This is a bit random but if characters from your fics lived in the Atla universe what element would they bend? Personally I think Lily would still have all her powers which would result in people thinking she's the avatar even though she's not, Obito would be a firebender, Minato an airbender and Lenin dearest would be a waterbender/bloodbender/maybe the avatar?. This is just the vibe I get tho-

Who needs bullet points when we can do a far too thought out AU that spans multiple fandoms/recursive works that will never happen?

More to the point, elements in AtLA is a mix of personality (we see earth benders as often brash and stubborn, water benders as adaptive, etc.) but also simply genetics. So, while I get that’s kind of the point of this post, it’s a bit weird to me to assign an element solely on personality.

So with that, let’s get started.

The Setting

Just to make things fun let’s make our AU take place sometime between Sozin’s first comet and Roku’s death and Aang awakening from that iceberg. The air benders have been wiped out, seemingly with no survivors, the South Pole has been invaded and the water benders from there captured and brought back to the Fire Nation, many of the colonies in the Earth Kingdom have been established, but the North Pole and great cities in the Earth Kingdom still stand.

The Avatar hasn’t been missing for one-hundred years yet, but he’s been missing for decades and people are coming around to the idea that maybe he’s really not going to show up.

Wizard Lenin/Tom Riddle

In this AU we’ll give Tom Riddle a slightly more traditional shitty background. Since we can’t really have a Tom in the AtLA universe he’s going to have the AtLA generic equivalent name that canon even jokes about: Lee. Lee is the mixed heritage son of a Fire Nation lord and a water bender from the south pole who grows up in a Fire Nation orphanage. And yes, this does happen in the absolute worst way you can possibly imagine, one of the imprisoned water benders from the south pole is raped.

As for Tom (Lee, you get the idea) arriving at an orphanage instead of being imprisoned/taken in as a son, well I’ll leave that to imagination but we can imagine a relatively compassionate guard, a dash of luck, or perhaps someone being an idiot and thinking “oh just dump it in an orphanage, there’s no way it will turn into a water bender too”

So, Tom grows up in an orphanage and looks just a bit... different from everyone else and is clearly not purely from the fire nation. I’m imagining much darker skin (and POC Tom Riddle is the weirdest thing in the world to contemplate, but here we are) and the pale blue eyes.

Tom grows up, dreaming probably of entering the military and winning himself glory, prestige, honor, and clawing out of this impoverished life he was born into. He undoubtedly desperately hopes he’s a fire bender, as not only is it cool but they have the best chance of making it in the world, and probably stays up late for many nights fruitlessly attempting to shoot fire out of his hands.

Unfortunately for Tom, sometime when he’s probably around eight or so, turns out he’s actually a water bender. Naturally, Tom has a huge meltdown and existential crisis as this means something’s terribly terribly wrong. More, all his hopes are ruined, as while a non-bender can make it a bender who is not a fire bender is a foreigner and traitor to the state.

Tom runs away and being a precocious child is able to make it on his own and about the country probably pulling off Toph-like scams. Eventually he runs into a much younger Hama who has just escaped prison and not yet started on her scary old lady adventures of imprisoning random villagers in caves. Hama goes, “of course, yes my child, I knew your mother” and gives Tom the whole horrible rape tale along with “I will teach you everything I know including my scary blood bending”. So Tom learns scary blood bending, probably stays with Hama a few years, and then realizes Hama isn’t going anywhere.

Hama’s content kidnapping random people into caves. At this point, angry and suddenly very pro-water bender Tom wants to murder the Fire Lord and his entire goddamn family and put himself in charge. Go big or go home, am I right?

So Tom leaves, Hama probably saying, “Come back any time, my beautiful murder child” and probably goes exploring the world in search of how the hell he’s going to bring down the Fire Lord. He also probably murders his entire father’s family and steals all his money, but that’s a different story. I imagine he goes to the North Pole where he learns that, as much of a water bender as he is, that he’s the son of someone from the Fire Nation closes pretty much every door to him. He’ll always be an outsider and the North Pole is very frosty towards him.

According to Hama, the South Pole is in shambles, so Tom probably doesn’t even bother going.

So Tom probably goes and bums around the Earth Kingdom, loitering in Ba Sing Se and Omashu, looking for that damned Spirit Library in the desert, etc. for a good number of years as he works to perfect his water bending and make himself an instrument of death.

And then he meets an alien and everything changes.

Lily

Tom probably manages to wander around the spirit world at one point in his late teens and probably almost gets eaten by something terrifying. While he learns much it’s not really anything useful and is more in the “too cosmic horror for Tom” variety. More than that though, something follows him back out.

When he comes to back in the real world there’s this thing sitting next to him that looks enough like a person but also like someone told a gifted artist what humans look like and they got it mostly right but also went a little nuts. It’s a girl, a few years younger than him, who has flaming red hair, absurdly green eyes, pale skin, and facial features he can’t recognize for the life of him (Lily still looking western in this to up the ante of ‘she’s an alien folks’).

Tom sacrifices his dinner to it and hopes it doesn’t eat him.

It explains that it’s a tourist from another dimension, beyond even the Spirit World, and that it’s come to see what the mortal world is all about. Tom is naturally very weirded out but at this point decides to roll with it.

Except it doesn’t leave and clearly expects Tom to play tour guide.

He does, reluctantly, because he doesn’t want to be eaten but he also sort of gets used to the thing. Then, one day, it starts bending multiple elements with utter ease and Tom is at first flabbergasted and horrified (only to remember that spirits can do what they want and aren’t like lowly mortals who can only bend one element) and then he gets the idea.

The Avatar, lazy bastard that he is (and Tom might be a little more than slightly bitter that he himself is not the Avatar), appears to be MIA and not coming back any time soon. The entire world it seems is waiting for the Avatar to come and save them. But, Tom says to himself, who needs the Avatar when you can just have an Avatar. An Avatar and, of course, her water bending master.

Thus, the scheme is set, Tom will teach this weird alien thing how to a) act like a goddamn human in public and b) water bending and together they will pretend she’s the Avatar and got lost in the spirit world a few decades ago (which accounts for the youthful age and the weird appearance) and use this to gain allies, topple the Fire Nation, and eventually give the throne to Tom.

Lily, who doesn’t know the difference between being a tourist and taking over a nation, goes along but is basically this story’s answer to Uncle Iroh always getting distracted by Pai Sho.

Haru/Dead Last

Given that they’re in the Earth Kingdom, and that Lee picks up water bending insultingly quickly which makes Tom fume in rage, they go to pick up an earth bending master/spread the word that the Avatar has returned from her multiple decades long vacation.

Along the way they probably run into Haru, who is the world’s most useless excuse for an Earth Bender. As always, he’s so average looking you can barely remember what he looks like beyond “generic earth bender”.

They probably watch him for two seconds, Lily asks if this is it, and Tom Riddle says, “what a joke”.

Minato Namikaze

Given that all the air benders are dead we’re going to make Minato a very talented earth bender (it is also very weird to imagine a dark haired/dark eyed Minato, but I suppose we’re going to roll with it). This also, to me, does fit his personality a little better as while he is a leaf on the wind kind of guy he also does dig his heels in and get very stubborn now and then.

Minato’s young, younger than Tom (Lee), but he’s incredibly talented and clever. To keep his shinobi background mostly in tact I imagine that Minato is a swiftly rising member of the Dai Li, stationed in Ba Sing Se, but who occasionally goes on intelligence missions to the other feudal powers in the Earth Kingdom.

So I imagine Lily and Tom run into him unnervingly frequently, probably first meeting him off duty in Omashu where he does his “extremely polite and friendly local guide” routine to show the pair the city (never mind that Tom insists he’s been to Omashu plenty of times goddammit). Despite this, Lily and Minato become friends, Lily easily confessing she’s the Avatar (which Minato at first thinks is a joke, even if she looks strange, then goes ‘oh my god, it’s not a joke).

Eventually Minato is stationed to spy on them under the guise of teaching Lily earth bending. So he joins the gang. Tom, who knows exactly what’s going on, is not amused while Lily is just happy to collect another friend who will actually play Pai Sho with her.

Kushina Uzumaki

Kushina is a earth bender, hands down. I debated making her a water bender (because whirlpool) but that personality is just pure earth bender material. Besides, I can just picture her so easily coming from Kyoshi.

So Kushina’s an earth bending Kyoshi warrior, who while ten times as powerful as Minato, also lacks any of his control or cleverness. Kushina has undoubtedly left Kyoshi, abandoning their neutrality, to join the war and kick some fire bender ass.

She does this but along the way frequently runs into the gang where she annoys the ever loving shit out of Minato (her new rival) and claims that Avatar Lily is her new idol.

Rabbit

Rabbit is a mysterious spirit from Lily’s past that she refuses to talk about except in the darkest of terms promising doom and destruction the likes of which the world has never seen.

No one knows how to react to this. Or what a plain old ‘rabbit’ even is.

Tobirama Senju

Because no story’s not complete without Tobirama, I imagine he’s a stuffy waterbender and scholar from the North Pole who Tom is miffed at as the man refused to teach him even more water bending. Tobirama naturally feels that the day he teaches a blatant spy is the day he goes and drowns himself.

Later, when Tom has picked up the Avatar and Tom rubs it in his face, Tobirama probably reluctantly spends a day or so teaching them something/fighting off the hordes of Fire Nation soldiers on their tale (it’s not Avatar if the gang isn’t constantly chased by fire benders).

Obito Uchiha

Obito is the answer to a fire bending instructor. Obito’s a firebender and the youngest son of a wealthy Fire Nation lord. However, Obito’s the black sheep of the family that everyone hates, a late bloomer when it comes to his bending, and is seen as bringing dishonor on the family.

Itching to prove himself, Obito becomes a soldier and goes to the Earth Kingdom, and eventually decides the best way to earn recognition and restore his honor is to capture the newly resurrected Avatar. Congratulations, Obito, you’re this story’s Zuko.

Obito, while not the most talented fire bender at first (though as he gets older he gets dangerously good at it) is extremely clever and becomes the largest threat to the gang.

That said, Obito actually does grow to like Lily quite a bit and begins to realize honor doesn’t actually mean that much to him and he doesn’t even really like his family. He doesn’t even dislike the concept of the Avatar and thinks the world probably does need one right about now.

So after a whole bunch of chasing them around the globe, thinking about his family, and being forced to almost kill the Avatar now and then he eventually defects and volunteers himself as fire bending instructor.

This is met with suspicion on all sides but he and Lily are bros so he wins.

Avatar Roku

Needing to pick up air bending, Lily probably fakes it until she makes it for a while, but eventually runs into Avatar Roku’s wandering spirit taking vacation from an ice cube.

He’s alarmed, but Aang’s trapped in ice, so if someone’s going to substitute then great.

To everyone else it just looks like Lily’s constantly talking to herself, playing Pai Sho with herself, and miraculously picks up air bending out of absolutely nowhere.

Also anyone close to Lee probably figures out she’s not really human/the avatar at this point, but they’ll take what they can get.

And This All Results In

Lily learns all the elements, there’s probably some big battle, then Lily gives some ridiculous speech about world peace that has nothing to do with anything and while the Fire Nation is defeated, Tom is not in fact made Fire Lord and remains merely the Avatar’s humble water bending instructor.

Instead, if he’s alive at this point, the crown goes to Iroh and he’s given a council of angry Earth Kingdom people who tell him to behave or else. We can give Iroh niceish things sometimes. That, or, hilariously, Obito becomes hokage/Fire Lord being distantly in line for the throne and doesn’t even know how that happened or what his life even is right now.

The colonies are the same mess in canon so something like Republic City probably eventually comes about.

Still, there’s peace, and probably statues to the gang all over the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes (while the Fire Nation grumbles and remembers the good old days when they controlled the world).

And then Aang eventually wakes up extremely confused and confronts Avatar Lily noting, “Hey, I’m the actual Avatar” and Lily after a suspiciously blank pause explains, “I said an Avatar, never said I was the Avatar”

So, that’s that. If anyone wants other specific characters added into this mess feel free to comment.

#ask #anon #avatar the last airbender #lily and the art of being sisyphus #minato namikaze and the destroyer of worlds #crossover #fusion

47 notes · View notes

immortalghostkami · 5 years ago

Text

Like the Sun and the Moon

Chapter 2: The Moon Raises

Chapter Index

With a swift swing of her blade, Makoto cut the net the boy was trapped in, allowing him to drop back down to the ground.

Bowing deeply towards him, she offered a smile while apologizing.

“I’m so sorry about that. My name’s Makoto Sasaki, what’s your name?” she asked, tilting her head while grabbing something from within her kimono.

“Heh,” he laughed, grabbing his swords.

“I’m the great Inosuke Hashibira, the god of the mountain!” he declared, boastfully pointing to himself.

Caught off guard with his statement, Makoto softly laughed, “Is that so?”

“HUH? Who do you think you’re laughing at!?” Inosuke snapped, pointing one of his blades at her.

“You think you’re better than THE great Inosuke?! How about we let our blades decide that?” he challenged, lowering his stance before dashing towards her.

“I can’t fight, I’m sorry!” Makoto swiftly said, causing the other to falter in his attack.

Pausing, he stared back at her in disbelief as she dodged him.

“Huh? What are you talkin’ about? You just killed those demons!” he shouted, pointing to the pail of clothes that lay on the floor.

“Well-yes but, I can’t fight someone head-on like you,” Makoto flushed, eyes darting to the side before continuing, “I… I’m not strong enough to do that.”

Staring at her gobsmacked, Inosuke didn’t know what to think.

“Are you blind or just stupid?” he blurted out, catching Makoto off guard.

“I-I’m sorry but… could you repeat that?” she asked, her mind failing to process his words.

“You said you’re not strong enough to fight me, but you just killed like, five demons by yourself. Are you blind or just stupid!” he shouted.

Despite his aggressive way of saying it, Makoto didn’t feel any hostility from him as he demanded that she battles him. Even so…

“I am blind… in my left eye…” Makoto finally answered, a hand coming up to touch the scar.

Huffing steam out of the boar mask, Inosuke retorted, “No, I think the real reason is you’re just stupid.”

“Now fight me!” he roared, charging at her once more.

Refusing to listen to reason, Inosuke’s want to fight only grew as Makoto dodged his attacks.

Furrowing her brows in frustration, Makoto was growing desperate to end his rampaging.

Jumping back while placing a hand on the hilt of her katana, she steadied her stance.

“All right! Now we’re getting somewhere!” Inosuke grinned.

“Don’t think I’ll hold back just ‘cause you’re a girl,” he warned, dashing forward again.

Taking a deep breath, Makoto ignored the aching of her lungs and the trembling in her fingers as she focused.

Flying towards her, Inosuke’s blades were just mere inches from hitting her when she dodged, swiveling her body between the slashes and appearing behind him.

He broke out in a cold sweat when he suddenly heard her mumble, “Third Form Modified: Moonlit Waltz, Knockout.”

Opening his eyes, Inosuke’s body was sore, especially his head. It was still dark out, and everything smelled faintly of flowers and smoke. He didn’t remember falling asleep. What was he doing on the ground?

“Gha! That’s right!” He screamed, jumping up.

Turning to face him, Makoto stared wide-eyed, startled. The two were silent as they took in what the other was doing. Makoto had just finished burying the pile of clothes when Inosuke woke up and was covered in dirt.

“You’re awake…” she finally spoke, voice almost a whisper.

“How… how are you feeling?” she asked, concerned. After all, she had hit him pretty hard, and the incense she was burning should have kept him asleep, at least a little bit longer.

“I wrapped up your leg after you passed out, I hope you don’t mind,” she said, dusting off the dirt from her pants.

“Why the hell do you care, FIGHT ME!” Inosuke demanded before a sharp pain in the back on his neck caused him to freeze.

“Oh no! I hit you too hard,” Makoto cried, running up to him.

Lightly, her fingers grazed his shoulder, causing Inosuke to snap back to his senses. Slapping her hand away, he took a step back, confused about the warm feeling spreading from where she had touched.

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” she asked, retracting her hand.

This is weird. Inosuke found everything about Makoto to be extremely weird. From actively refusing to fight him and tending to his wounds, he didn’t understand her. Not to mention how he barely felt her approach him. Her presence wasn’t like a demon’s or a wild animal’s. Hell, it wasn’t even like the other swordsmen on the mountain. He couldn’t tell where she was aiming when she knocked him out at all. It was almost as if she had no malicious or dangerous intentions.

“Um… I-Inosuke?” Makoto softly called when he didn’t respond.

Dodging her outstretched hand, he jumped back and away from her. Startled, Makoto took a second to process what just happened, confused about what had spooked him so thoroughly. Eyebrows furrowing in concern, Makoto opened her mouth only to be cut off.

“You’re weird!” he proclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at her.

“You do weird things!” he shouted before running off.

Makoto was left alone, face blank.

She was weird?

“What… just happened?” she murmured, coming back to her senses.

Picking up the crane patterned haori she had used as a pillow for Inosuke, Makoto tried not to think too hard about it.

The rest of the selection seemed to go by smoothly. By the time the seventh day arrived, Makoto was more than ready to leave. She was exhausted, her limbs felt numb, and her lungs were on fire. And despite all her training, she still wasn’t able to maintain Total Concentration: Constant.

Meeting back up with the remaining swordsmen, Makoto could only hope she was early as only four people were there waiting.

The first person she noticed was Shinobu’s little sister. She couldn’t help but wonder what Kanao was doing here but paid no mind as her eyes found their way to a figure by the trees. It took her a second to recognize them from afar, but once she spotted a familiar black fox mask, she realized it was her friend Kyo. Turning back to the three in front of her, Makoto found a terrified blonde boy in a yellow haori and…

Makoto paused, staring at the aggressive-looking boy with a mohawk. Was he-?

But her thoughts were cut off when she felt footsteps coming up the mountain. Turning around, she watched as a speck of blue turned into a boy in a cloud printed haori. The morning sun tinting him in beautiful shades of red. He looked pretty beaten up too.

“Welcome back, I’m glad you are all safe.”

Spinning her head around, Makoto turned to face the Ubuyashiki siblings. As the two congratulated everyone and explained how the Demon Slayer Corps worked, a wave of sorrow washed over Makoto’s tired form. There were only five of them there, and she was no doubt the oldest. It may have just been by a year or two, but the fact that the group had dwindled so much made her heart ache.

Looking around, Makoto realized that she hadn’t seen Inosuke. Surely he would have made it? But he wasn’t there. Makoto could only hope that he, along with most of the other participants, had quit instead of dying.

“Now, for your Kasugai Crows,” Kanata said, and as if on cue, a murder of crows flew down.

Holding out an arm for the crow, he landed gracefully, tilting his head at her.

“I look forward to working with you,” she greeted, scratching the top of his head.

“I don’t give a damn about crows, where’s my Nichirin Sword!” the mohawk boy shouted, swatting his crow away.

“The Demon Slayers color-changing katana, I want mine now!” he demanded, growling as he roughly grabbed Kanata’s white hair.

Makoto’s eyes narrowed as she watched the cloud haori boy intervene. He grabbed the other's arm and threatened to break it if he didn’t let Kanata go.

Tightening his grip, the mohawk boy realized that the other was being serious when the sound of a shakuhachi suddenly reached their ears. Looking over their shoulders, the anger of the two slowly dissipated and was replaced by confusion.

Walking up to the two boys, Makoto opened her eyes, bringing the flute down and smiling her usual, easy-going smile.

“Now, now, no need to fight. We’re all comrades now after all,” she said, bringing a hand up and patting their heads before they could protest.

“We’re like one big family now, so we should look after each other.”

Makoto’s airy laugh caused the two boys to blush, their anger quickly being replaced with embarrassment.

Now that she was up close, Makoto had a better look at their faces.

The cloud haori boy nodded at her, brightly smiling in agreement. What she had once thought was just the morning light was actually the color of his hair and eyes. Both being a beautiful shade of burgundy.

Knocking her hand away, the mohawked boy grumbled under his breath. Everything from his general vibe to the scar that sat on the right side of his face, Makoto had a strong feeling she knew who he might be.

Eyes softening, she turned to him.

“We just need to be a little more patient. We’re about to get our ore right now, right?” she asked, turning to look at Kiriya.

“Yes, if you are all done talking,” he started, turning to the table next to him.

“You choose your own ore that will be used to create your katana. The same katana that will be used to kill demons, and protect yourself.”

As the others walked up to the table, Makoto stopped in front of Kanata, crouching down to meet her eyes. Fixing her hair, Makoto was gentle as she patted the white-haired girl’s head.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Yes, I am just fine,” Kanata simply answered, but Makoto could see the corners of her lips twitch up just the slightest bit.

Standing up, Makoto turned to the table. Most of the other members had already picked out their ore, leaving just Makoto left.

“Just double-checking, was my request approved?” Makoto asked, eyes darting to Kiriya as her fingers lingering over the rest of the ore.

“Yes,” he simply responded.

“That’s a relief,” she sighed, releasing the breath she was holding.

The boys of the group watched on in confusion, unsure of what the two were talking about as they all silently watched.

Picking up one of the ores, Mokoto turned to Kiriya smiling, “Then, I’ll take this one please.”

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

#demon slayer #kimestu no yaiba #demon slayer fanfic #kimestsu no yaiba fanfic #oc x canon #oc/canon #Inosuke/oc #Inosuke x oc #angst #fluff #slow burn #Like the Sun and the Moon #manga spoilers

1 note · View note

mrkwonandmrchoibabygirl · 7 years ago

Text

BARED TO HIM- SEUNGRI AU PT.6

Genre:Fluff/Smut/Angst

Rated:NC-17

Pairing: Seungri x Reader

Wordcount: 4,939

Part.5 Part.6

Masterlist

Please let me hnow in my ask box what do you think about the chapter or story in general same for 50 shades of kwon ji yong,THANKS!

“Hey, Dad. I caught you.” I adjusted my grip on the phone receiver and pulled up a stool at the breakfast bar. I missed my father. For the last four years we’d lived close enough to see each other at least once a week. Now his home in Oceanside was the entire country away. “How are you?” He lowered the volume on the television. “Better, now that you’ve called. How was your first week at work?”

I went over my days from Monday through Friday, skipping over all the Seunghyun parts. “I really like my boss, Mark,” I finished. “And the vibe of the agency is very energetic and kind of quirky. I’m happy going to work every day, and I’m bummed when it’s time to go home.” “I hope it stays that way. But you need to make sure you have some downtime, too. Go out, be young, have fun. But not too much fun.” “Yeah, I had a little too much last night. Hae and I went clubbing, and I woke up with a mean hangover.” “Shit, don’t tell me that.” He groaned. “Some nights I wake up in a cold sweat thinking about you in New York. I get through it by telling myself you’re too smart to take chances, thanks to two parents who’ve drilled safety rules into your DNA.” “Which is true,” I said, laughing. “That reminds me… I’m going to start Krav Maga training.” “Really?” There was a thoughtful pause. “One of the guys on the force is big on it. Maybe I’ll check it out and we can compare notes when I come out to visit you.” “You’re coming to New York?” I couldn’t hide my excitement. “Oh, Dad, I’d love it if you would. As much as I miss SoCal, Manhattan is really awesome. I think you’ll like it.” “I’d like anyplace in the world as long as you’re there.” He waited a beat, then asked, “How’s your mom?” “Well…she’s Mom. Beautiful, charming, and obsessive-compulsive.” My chest hurt and I rubbed at it. I thought my dad might still love my mom. He’d never married. That was one of the reasons I never told him about what happened to me. As a cop, he would’ve insisted on pressing charges and the scandal would have destroyed my mother. I also worried that he’d lose respect for her or even blame her, and it hadn’t been her fault. As soon as she’d found out what her stepson was doing to me, she’d left a husband she was happy with and filed for divorce. I kept talking, waving at Hae as he came rushing in with a little blue Tiffany & Co. bag. “We had a spa day today. It was a fun way to cap off the week.” I could hear the smile in his voice when he said, “I’m glad you two are managing to spend time together. What are your plans for the rest of the weekend?” I hedged on the subject of the charity event, knowing the whole red carpet business and astronomicallypriced dinner seats would just highlight the gap between my parents’ lives. “Hae and I are going out to eat, and then I plan on staying in tomorrow. Sleeping in late, hanging out in my pajamas all day, maybe some movies and food delivery of some sort. A little vegetating before a new work week kicks off.” “Sounds like heaven to me. I may copy you when my next day off rolls around.” Glancing at the clock, I saw it was creeping past six. “I have to get ready now. Be careful at work, okay? I worry about you, too.” “Will do. Bye, baby.” The familiar sign-off had me missing him so much my throat hurt. “Oh, wait! I’m getting a new cell phone. I’ll text you the number as soon as I have it.” “Again? You just got a new one when you moved.” “Long, boring story.” “Hmm…Don’t put it off. They’re good for safety as well as playing Angry Birds.” “I’m over that game!” I laughed and warmth spread through me to hear him laughing, too. “I’ll call you in a few days. Be good.” “That’s my line.” We hung up. I sat for a few moments in the ensuing silence, feeling like everything was right in my world, which never lasted long. I brooded on that for minute; then Cary cranked up Hinder on his bedroom stereo and that kicked my butt into gear. I hurried to my room to get ready for a night with Seunghyun.

“Necklace or no necklace?” I asked Hae, when he came into my bedroom looking seriously amazing. Dressed in his new Brioni tux, he was both debonair and dashing, and certain to attract attention. “Hmm.” His head tilted to the side as he studied me. “Hold it up again.” I lifted the choker of gold coins to my throat. The dress my mom had sent was fire engine red and styled for a Grecian goddess. It hung on one shoulder, cut diagonally across my cleavage, had ruching to the hip, and then split at my right upper thigh all the way down my leg. There was no back to speak of, aside from a slender strip of rhinestones that connected one side to the other to keep the front from falling off. Otherwise, the back was bared to just above the crack of my buttocks in a racy V-cut. “Forget the necklace,” he said. “I was leaning toward gold chandeliers, but now I’m thinking diamond hoops. The biggest ones you’ve got.” “What? Really?” I frowned at our reflections in my cheval mirror, watching as he moved to my jewelry box and dug through it. “These.” He brought them to me and I eyed the twoinch hoops my mother had given me for my eighteenth birthday. “Trust me,Y/N. Try ’em on.” I did and found he was right. It was a very different look from the gold choker, less glam and more edgy sensuality. And the earrings went well with the diamond anklet on my right leg that I’d never think of the same way again after Seunghyun’s comment. With my hair swept off my face into a cascade of thick, deliberately messy curls, I had a just-screwed look that was complemented by smoky eye shadow and glossy nude lips. “What would I do without you, Hae?” “Baby girl”—he set his hands on my shoulders and pressed his cheek to mine—“you’ll never find out.” “You look awesome, by the way.” “Don’t I?” He winked and stepped back, showing off. In his own way, Hae could give Seunghyun a run for his money…er, looks. Hae was more finely featured, almost pretty compared to Seunghyun’s savage beauty, but both were striking men that made you look twice, and then stare in greedy delight. Hae hadn’t been quite so perfect when I met him. He’d been strung out and gaunt, his emerald eyes cloudy and lost. But I’d been drawn to him, going out of my way to sit next to him in group therapy. He’d finally propositioned me crudely, having come to believe the only reason people associated with him was because they wanted to fuck him. It was when I declined, firmly and irrevocably, that we finally connected and became best friends. He was the brother I’d never had. The intercom buzzed and I jumped, making me realize how nervous I was. I looked at Hae. “I forgot to tell the front desk he was coming back.” “I’ll get him.” “Are you going to be okay riding over with Johns and my mom?” “Are you kidding? They love me.” His smile dimmed. “Having second thoughts about going with Lee?” I took a deep breath, remembering where I’d been earlier—on my back in a multi-orgasmic daze. “Not really, no. It’s just that everything’s happening so fast and going better than I expected or realized I wanted…” “You’re wondering what the catch is.” Reaching out, he tapped my nose with his fingertip. “He’s the catch, Y/N. And you landed him. Enjoy yourself.” “I’m trying.” I was grateful that Hae understood me and the way my mind worked. It was just so easy being with him, knowing he could fill in the blanks when I couldn’t explain something. “I researched the hell out of him this morning and printed out the interesting recent stuff. It’s on your desk, if you decide you want to check it out.” I remembered him printing something before we got ready for the spa. Pushing onto my tiptoes, I kissed his cheek. “You’re the best. I love you.” “Back atcha, baby girl.” He headed out. “I’ll head down to the front desk and bring him up. Take your time. He’s ten minutes early.” Smiling, I watched him saunter into the hallway. The door had closed behind him when I moved into the small sitting room attached to my bedroom. On the very impractical escritoire my mother had picked out, I found a folder filled with articles and printed images. I settled into the chair and got lost in Lee Seunghyun’s history. It was like watching a train wreck to read that he was the son of LEE Jinyoung, former chairman of an investment securities firm later found to be a front for a massive Ponzi scheme. Seunghyun was just five years old when his dad committed suicide with a gunshot to the head rather than face prison time. Oh, Seunghyun. I tried to picture him that young and imagined a handsome dark-haired boy with beautiful blue eyes filled with terrible confusion and sadness. The image broke my heart. How devastating his father’s suicide—and the circumstances around it— must have been, for both him and his mother. The stress and strain at such a difficult time would’ve been enormous, especially for a child of that age. His mother went on to marry Christopher Vidal, a music executive, and had two more children, Christopher Vidal Jr. and Ireland Vidal, but it seemed a larger family and financial security had come too late to help Seunghyun stabilize after such a huge shakeup. He was too closed off not to bear some painful emotional scars. With a critical and curious eye, I studied the women who’d been photographed with Seunghyun and thought about his approach to dating, socializing, and sex. I saw that my mom had been right—they were all brunettes. The woman who appeared with him most often bore the hallmarks of a Hispanic heritage. She was taller than me, willowy rather than curvy. “Magdalene Perez,” I murmured, grudgingly admitting that she was a stunner. Her posture had the kind of flamboyant confidence that I admired. “Okay, it’s been long enough,” Hae interrupted with a soft note of amusement. He filled the doorway to my sitting room, leaning insolently into the doorjamb. “Really?” I’d been so absorbed; I hadn’t realized how much time had passed. “I would guess you’re about a minute away from him coming to find you. He’s barely restraining himself.” I shut the folder and stood. “Interesting reading, isn’t it?” “Very.” How had Seunghyun’s father—or more specifically, his father’s suicide—influenced his life? I knew all the answers I wanted were waiting for me in the next room. Leaving my bedroom, I took the hallway to the living room. I paused on the threshold, my gaze riveted to Seunghyun’s back as he stood in front of the windows and looked out at the city. My heart rate kicked up. His reflection revealed a contemplative mood. His gaze was unfocused and his mouth grim. His crossed arms betrayed an inherent unease, as if he was out of his element. He looked remote and removed, a man who was inherently alone. He sensed my presence or maybe he felt my yearning. He pivoted; then went very still. I took the opportunity to drink him in, my gaze sliding all over him. He looked every inch the powerful magnate. So sensually handsome my eyes burned just from looking at him. The rakish fall of black hair around his face made my fingers flex with the urge to touch it. And the way he looked at me…my pulse leaped. “Y/N.” He came toward me, his stride graceful and strong. He caught up my hand and lifted it to his mouth. His gaze was intense—intensely hot, intensely focused. The feel of his lips against my skin sent goose bumps racing up my arm and stirred memories of that sinful mouth on other parts of my body. I was instantly aroused. “Hi.” Amusement warmed his eyes. “Hi, yourself. You look amazing. I can’t wait to show you off.” I breathed through the delight I felt at the compliment. “Let’s hope I can do you justice.” A slight frown knit the space between his brows. “Do you have everything you need?” Hae appeared beside me, carrying my black velvet shawl and opera length gloves. “Here you go. I tucked your gloss into your clutch.” “You’re the best, Hae.” He winked at me—which told me he’d seen the condoms I had tucked into the small interior pocket. “I’ll head down with you two.” Seunghyun took the shawl from Hae and draped it over my shoulders. He pulled my hair out from underneath it and the feel of his hands at my neck so distracted me, I barely paid attention when Hae pushed my gloves into my hands. The elevator ride to the lobby was an exercise in surviving acute sexual tension. Not that Hae seemed to notice. He was on my left with both hands in his pockets, whistling. Seunghyun, on the other hand, was a tremendous force on the other side of me. Although he didn’t move or make a sound, I could feel the edgy energy radiating from him. My skin tingled from the magnetic pull between us, and my breath came short and fast. I was relieved when the doors opened and freed us from the enclosed space. Two women stood waiting to get on. Their jaws dropped when they saw Seunghyun and Hae, and that lightened my mood and made me smile. “Ladies,” Hae greeted them, with a smile that really wasn’t fair. I could almost see their brain cells misfiring. In contrast, Seunghyun gave a curt nod and led me out with a hand at the small of my back, skin to skin. The contact was electric, sending heat pouring through me. I squeezed Hae’s hand. “Save a dance for me.” “Always. See you in a bit.” A limousine was waiting at the curb, and the driver opened the door when Seunghyun and I stepped outside. I slid across the bench seat to the opposite side and adjusted my gown. When Seunghyun settled beside me and the door shut, I became highly conscious of how good he smelled. I breathed him in, telling myself to relax and enjoy his company. He took my hand and ran his fingertips over the palm, the simple touch sparking a fierce lust. I shrugged off my shawl, feeling too hot to wear it. “Y/N.” He hit a button and the privacy glass behind the driver began to slide up. The next moment I was tugged across his lap and his mouth was on mine, kissing me fiercely. I did what I’d wanted to do since I saw him in my living room: I shoved my hands in his hair and kissed him back. I loved the way he kissed me, as if he had to, as if he’d go crazy if he didn’t and had nearly waited too long. I sucked on his tongue, having learned how much he liked it, having learned how much I liked it, how much it made me want to suck him elsewhere with the same eagerness. His hands were sliding over my bare back and I moaned, feeling the prod of his erection against my hip. I shifted, moving to straddle him, shoving the skirt of my gown out of the way and making a mental note to thank my mom for the dress—which had such a convenient slit. With my knees on either side of his hips, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and deepened the kiss. I licked into his mouth, nibbled on his lower lip, stroked my tongue along his… Seunghyun gripped my waist and pushed me away. He leaned into the seat back, his neck arched to look up at my face, his chest heaving. “What are you doing to me?” I ran my hands down his chest through his dress shirt, feeling the unforgiving hardness of his muscles. My fingers traced the ridges of his abdomen, my mind forming a picture of how he might look naked. “I’m touching you. Enjoying the hell out of you. I want you, Seunghyun .” He caught my wrists, stilling my movements. “Later. We’re in the middle of Manhattan.” “No one can see us.” “That’s not the point. It’s not the time or place to start something we can’t finish for hours. I’m losing my mind already from this afternoon.” “So let’s make sure we finish it now.” His grip tightened painfully. “We can’t do that here.” “Why not?” Then a surprising thought struck me. “Haven’t you ever had sex in a limo?” “No.” His jaw hardened. “Have you?” Looking away without answering, I saw the traffic and pedestrians surging around us. We were only inches away from hundreds of people, but the dark glass concealed us and made me feel reckless. I wanted to please him. I wanted to know I was capable of reaching into Lee Seunghyun , and there was nothing to stop me but him. I rocked my hips against him, stroking myself with the hard length of his cock. His breath hissed out between clenched teeth. “I need you, Seunghyun ,” I said breathlessly, inhaling his scent, which was richer now that he was aroused. I thought I might be slightly intoxicated, just from the enticing smell of his skin. “You drive me crazy.” He released my wrists and cupped my face, his lips pressing hard against mine. I reached for the fly of his slacks, freeing the two buttons to access the concealed zipper. He tensed. “I need this,” I whispered against his lips. “Give me this.” He didn’t relax, but he made no further attempts to stop me either. When he fell heavily into my palms, he groaned, the sound both pained and erotic. I squeezed him gently, my touch deliberately tender as I sized him with my hands. He was so hard, like stone, and hot. I slid both of my fists up his length from root to tip, my breath catching when he quivered beneath me. Seunghyun gripped my thighs, his hands sliding upward beneath the edges of my dress until his thumbs found the red lace of my thong. “Your cunt is so sweet,” he murmured into my mouth. “I want to spread you out and lick you ’til you beg for my cock.” “I’ll beg now, if you want.” I stroked him with one hand and reached for my clutch with the other, snapping it open to grab a condom. One of his thumbs slid beneath the edge of my panties, the pad sliding through the slickness of my desire. “I’ve barely touched you,” he whispered, his eyes glittering up at me in the shadows of the backseat, “and you’re ready for me.” “I can’t help it.” “I don’t want you to help it.” He pushed his thumb inside me, biting his lower lip when I clenched helplessly around him. “It wouldn’t be fair when I can’t stop what you do to me.” I ripped the foil packet open with my teeth and held it out to him with the ring of the condom protruding from the tear. “I’m not good with these.” His hand curled around mine. “I’m breaking all my rules with you.” The seriousness of his low tone sent a burst of warmth and confidence through me. “Rules are made to be broken.” I saw his teeth flash white; then he hit a button on the panel beside him and said, “Drive until I say otherwise.” My cheeks heated. Another car’s headlights pierced the dark tinted glass and slid over my face, betraying my embarrassment. “Why, Y/N,” he purred, rolling the condom on deftly. “You’ve seduced me into having sex in my limousine, but blush when I tell my driver I don’t want to be interrupted while you do it to me?” His sudden playfulness made me desperate to have him. Setting my hands on his shoulders for balance, I lifted onto my knees, rising to gain the height I needed to hover over the crown of Seunghyun’s thick cock. His hands fisted at my hips and I heard a snap as he tore my panties away. The abrupt sound and the violent action behind it spurred my desire to a fever pitch. “Go slow,” he ordered hoarsely, lifting his hips to push his pants down farther. His erection brushed between my legs as he moved and I whimpered, so aching and empty, as if the orgasms he’d given me earlier had only deepened my craving rather than appeased it. He tensed when I wrapped my fingers around him and positioned him, tucking the wide crest against the saturated folds of my cleft. The scent of our lust was heavy and humid in the air, a seductive mix of need and pheromones that awakened every cell in my body. My skin was flushed and tingling, my breasts heavy and tender. This is what I’d wanted from the moment I first saw him—to possess him, to climb up his magnificent body and take him deep inside me. “God. Y/N,” he gasped as I lowered onto him, his hands flexing restlessly on my thighs. I closed my eyes, feeling too exposed. I’d wanted intimacy with him and yet this seemed too intimate. We were eye-to-eye, only inches apart, cocooned in a small space with the rest of the world streaming by around us. I could sense his agitation, knew he was feeling as off-center as I was. “You’re so tight.” His gasped words were threaded with a hint of delicious agony. I took more of him, letting him slide deeper. I sucked in a deep breath, feeling exquisitely stretched. “You’re so big.” Pressing his palm flat to my lower belly, he touched my throbbing clit with the pad of his thumb and began to massage it in slow, expertly soft circles. Everything in my core tightened and clenched, sucking him deeper. Opening my eyes, I looked at him from under heavy eyelids. He was so beautiful sprawled beneath me in his elegant tuxedo, his powerful body straining with the primal need to mate. His neck arched, his head pressing hard into the seatback as if he was struggling against invisible bonds. “Ah, Christ,” he bit out, his teeth grinding. “I’m going to come so hard.” The dark promise excited me. Sweat misted my skin. I became so wet and hot that I slid smoothly down the length of his cock until I’d nearly sheathed him. A breathless cry escaped me before I’d taken him to the root. He was so deep I could hardly stand it, forcing me to shift from side to side, trying to ease the unexpected bite of discomfort. But my body didn’t seem to care that he was too big. It was rippling around him, squeezing, trembling on the verge of orgasm. Seunghyun cursed and gripped my hip with his free hand, urging me to lean backward as his chest heaved with frantic breaths. The position altered my descent and I opened, accepting all of him. Immediately his body temperature rose, his torso radiating sultry heat through his clothes. Sweat dotted his upper lip. Leaning forward, I slid my tongue along the sculpted curve, collecting the saltiness with a low murmur of delight. His hips churned impatiently. I lifted carefully, sliding up a few inches before he stopped me with that ferocious grasp on my hip. “Slow,” he warned again, with an authoritative bite that sent lust pulsing through me. I lowered, taking him into me again, feeling an oddly luscious soreness as he pushed just past my limits. Our eyes locked on each other as the pleasure spread from the place where we connected. It struck me then that we were both fully clothed except for the most private and intimate parts of our bodies. I found that excruciatingly carnal, as were the sounds he made, as if the pleasure was as extreme for him as it was for me. Wild for him, I pressed my mouth to his, my fingers gripping the sweat-damp roots of his hair. I kissed him as I rocked my hips, riding the maddening circling of his thumb, feeling the orgasm building with every slide of his long, thick penis into my melting core. I lost my mind somewhere along the way, primitive instinct taking over until my body was completely in charge. I could focus on nothing but the driving urge to fuck, the ferocious need to ride his cock until the tension burst and set me free of this grinding hunger. “It’s so good,” I sobbed, lost to him. “You feel…Ah, God, it’s too good.” Using both hands, Seunghyun commanded my rhythm, tilting me into an angle that had the big crown of his cock rubbing a tender, aching spot inside me. As I tightened and shook, I realized I was going to come from that, just from the expert thrust of him inside me. “ Seunghyun .” He captured me by the nape as the orgasm exploded through me, starting with the ecstatic spasms of my core and radiating outward until I was trembling all over. He watched me fall apart, holding my gaze when I would’ve closed my eyes. Possessed by his stare, I moaned and came harder than I ever had, my body jerking with every pulse of pleasure. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growled, pounding his hips up at me, yanking my hips down to meet his punishing lunges. He hit the end of me with every deep thrust, battering into me. I could feel him growing harder and thicker. I watched him avidly, needing to see it when he went over the edge for me. His eyes were wild with his need, losing their focus as his control frayed, his gorgeous face ravaged by the brutal race to climax. “Y/N!” He came with an animal sound of feral ecstasy, a snarling release that riveted me with its ferocity. He shook as the orgasm tore into him, his features softening for an instant with an unexpected vulnerability. Cupping his face, I brushed my lips across his, comforting him as the forceful bursts of his gasping breaths struck my cheeks. “ Y/N .” He wrapped his arms around me and crushed me to him, pressing his damp face into the curve of my neck. I knew just how he felt. Stripped. Laid bare. We stayed like that for a long time, holding each other, absorbing the aftershocks. He turned his head and kissed me softly, the strokes of his tongue into my mouth soothing my ragged emotions. “Wow,” I breathed, shaken. His mouth twitched. “Yeah.” I smiled, feeling dazed and high. Seunghyun brushed the damp tendrils of hair off my temples, his fingertips gliding almost reverently across my face. The way he studied me made my chest hurt. He looked stunned and…grateful, his eyes warm and tender. “I don’t want to break this moment.” Because I could hear it hanging in the air, I filled it in. “But…?” “But I can’t blow off this dinner. I have a speech to give.” “Oh.” The moment was effectively broken. I lifted gingerly off of him, biting my lip at the feel of him slipping wetly out of me. The friction was enough to make me want more. He’d barely softened. “Damn it,” he said roughly. “I want you again.” He caught me before I moved away, pulling a handkerchief out from somewhere and running it gently between my legs. It was a deeply intimate act, on par with the sex we’d just had. When I was dry, I settled on the seat beside him and dug my lip gloss out of my clutch. I watched Seunghyun over the edge of my mirrored compact as he removed the condom and tied it off. He wrapped it in a cocktail napkin; then tossed it in a cleverly hidden trash receptacle. After restoring his appearance, he told the driver to head to our destination. Then he settled into the seat and stared out the window. With every second that passed, I felt him withdrawing, the connection between us slipping further and further away. I found myself shrinking into the corner of the seat, away from him, mimicking the distance I felt building between us. All the warmth I’d felt receded into a marked chill, cooling me enough that I pulled my shawl around me again. He didn’t move a muscle as I shifted beside him and put my compact away, as if he wasn’t even aware I was there. Abruptly, Seunghyun opened the bar and pulled out a bottle. Without looking at me, he asked, “Brandy?” “No, thank you.” My voice was small, but he didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he didn’t care. He poured a drink and tossed it back. Confused and stung, I pulled on my gloves and tried to figure out what went wrong.

28 notes · View notes

brandbaskets · 7 years ago

Photo

New Post has been published on https://brandbaskets.in/fifa-world-cup-2018-the-best-kits-of-the-tournament-where-does-australia-rank-among-your-favourites-fifa-world-cup-russia-2018/

FIFA World Cup 2018: The best kits of the tournament - where does Australia rank among your favourites? - FIFA World Cup - Russia 2018

Posted June 07, 2018 05:46:54

Photo: Where does Australia’s kit rank for you among the 32 nations at the FIFA World Cup? (Nike)

The FIFA World Cup is finally here, and you know what that means: Prima donna footballers swanning around in the finest on-field fashion world sport has to offer.

Australia will be decked out in an all-gold number this year — will it be enough to swing the fashion judges’ glances our way in the World Cup attire final?

Which kit is your favourite?

If patriotism and favourite players were put to one side, which of this year’s 32 World Cup kits gets your fashionista motor running?

External Link:

Which five kits are your World Cup favourites?

Without further ado, here are our kit ratings, in order of their World Cup groups.

Russia: 5/10

Our World Cup hosts kick things off with a bright red set-up, with white trim in a proudly Russian arrangement of colour.

Photo: The World Cup hosts will primarily be playing in a bold red number with white trimmings. (Adidas)

Admittedly it’s pretty simple — anyone who’s ordered custom kits for their Wednesday-night futsal team knows a generic template when they see one — as Russia looks to go safety-first for their showpiece event.

Saudi Arabia: 3/10

Not off to the strongest start just yet. Saudi Arabia’s home kit has gone for the plain white, with green edgings and a brand new crest.

Photo: Saudi Arabia’s kit is plain white with its national colour green as the trim. Simple. (Nike)

Not much for wowing the crowd, though they get a bonus point for the shirt numbers on the lapel.

Egypt: 6/10

The colour red seems to suit simple kits, but there’s a little more than meets the eye with Egypt’s striking top, with a checkerboard pattern making the most subtle of impressions.

Photo: Egypt firms as one of the dark horses in Russia. ‘Red for danger’ serves as a suitable symbol, then. (Adidas)

Striking black finishes on sleeves and collar give Egypt something of a race-car vibe, which will suit the likes of the speedy Mo Salah just fine.

Uruguay: 7/10

The likely winner of Group A, Uruguay already tops the group’s fashion metric with a quintessentially sharp number from the South American nation.

Photo: Uruguay always looks sharp at football’s showpiece, and it hasn’t disappointed in 2018. (Puma)

Uruguay has a rich history of dapper footballers stealing hearts (Diego Forlan, oh my), and the sky-blue, tight-fitting Puma top will no doubt see them maintain their fine tradition of fashionable competence.

Portugal: 6/10

Photo: Portugal has served up an understated offering in Russia. (Nike)

The big question with any Portuguese kit: Will the walking, talking mannequin that is Cristiano Ronaldo pull it off?

Kind of like how the colour black goes with anything, Portugal has gone low key in 2018.

There are those that argue Ronaldo could pull off wearing a hessian bag, and while the manufacturers haven’t gone that low, they’re perhaps banking on the models to sell the clothes, rather than the other way round.

Traditional dark red, bottle green and golden flourishes for the kit manufacturer means it’s a safe-as-houses effort from the European champions.

Spain: 8/10

At last, a stand-out to finally get the ball rolling. Spain’s kit is a throw-back to the regalia it wore during the 1994 World Cup in the United States, with a similar zappy braid pattern down the right shoulder along the torso.

It’s bright, it’s inherently Spanish, with the right dash of Iberian flamboyance to completely overshadow their peninsula rivals Portugal.

Photo: Spain’s 2018 World Cup kit harkens back to the garments it wore at USA ’94. (Adidas)

Now the question remains: Can our fashionable matadors tame the metaphorical bulls on the football pitch in such eye-catching gear?

Morocco: 4/10

Let’s start with the positives: Morocco’s kit sports a particularly nice shade of red.

Photo: We’re not really sure why Russian player Vladimir Granat is modelling Morocco’s kit. (Adidas)

But that’s as far as the niceties go on one of a vast collection of red World Cup jumpers.

This is not the beginning of a beautiful friendship. No one will be asking Sam to play this one again.

Iran: 3/10

It’s white. It’s got some Adidas red trims. And that’s about it really.

Photo: Iran’s shirt (L) is … white. It has a bit of red, to be fair. And that’s about it, really. (AP)

Iran’s view on shirts seems to revolve purely around function, more than form. Basically something for footballers to wear so they don’t catch their death of exposure.

France: 7/10

Les Bleus’ kits have been getting darker and more navy as the years progress. So the 2018 version at least makes a token nod towards the more royal blue colours France used to sport, particularly when they won football’s biggest prize in 1998.

Photo: France usually look extremely dapper at football tournaments. This new kit may take some getting used to. (Nike)

Up against the brighter colours of Australia, Peru and Denmark in Group C, France’s dark assassins prime as favourites to top the group, and realistically should be aiming to reach the World Cup final.

This year in the fashion stakes, however, probably sees them bow out in the quarter-final stage.

Australia: 8/10

Traditionalists may prefer green and gold, but the all-gold approach for the Socceroos in 2018 is a winner in our books.

Photo: Looking schmick, Trent. Very schmick. (Nike)

The wave-pattern on the sleeves is a flourish we’ll indulge for now, but there’s something really proud and uplifting about the bright hues from top to toe that Australia has picked for its trip to Russia.

Arguments about Australian gold and canary yellow may ensue, but Australia will at least be visually noticed by the discerning nay-sayers of Europe and South America, this time.

Peru: 4/10

Look! It’s that club you created from scratch in Pro Evolution Soccer!

Photo: Peru believe they’re the prettiest contestants at the FIFA World Cup beauty pageant. Look at that sash. (Umbro)

Peru makes a long-awaited return to the World Cup wearing its signature beauty-pageant sash, diagonally slashed across a white front — but it’s not going to take out the Miss Congeniality prize this year.

Peru will be hoping it’s counter-attacking style reaps rewards on the pitch, because they’re sticking to basics in the wardrobe.

Denmark: 8/10

Simple doesn’t always mean bad, nor does it imply a lack of effort. Unlike striker Nicklas Bendtner, Denmark finds an unerring finish with this red-and-white arrangement.

Photo: The Viking blood runs strong in Denmark’s bold red, sported here by Lord Nicklas Bendtner and his travelling raiders. (Hummel)

It’s bold. It’s proud. And it might just be worn by the runners-up (at least) of Group C. Onward, raiders!

Argentina: 6/10

Exactly what you’d expect from an Argentina kit. Nothing more, nothing less.

Photo: Harking back to the glory days, Argentina’s kit is simple and to the point. (Adidas)

You know the drill: White and pale-blue stripes, the Adidas shoulders, and Lionel Messi looking surly. As you were.

Iceland: 6/10

Iceland is incredibly making its World Cup debut in Russia. Rather than a boring, run-of-the-mill promotion photo, we’ve opted for Football Iceland’s epic, country-spanning video spot.

External Link:

footballiceland tweets The new kit is here

Ah, Iceland. What a mythical place. Their footballers will be aiming to achieve mythical status themselves in a simple but effective bright blue number, laced with Icelandic pride and spirit. “Hu”, indeed!

Croatia: 8/10

Red and white checks. Some things just work, and Croatia’s checkerboard pattern (known as šahovnica, to the educated) is a safe bet for footballing fashionistas.

Photo: Like death and taxes, a red-and-white chequered Croatian World Cup kit is one of life’s foregone conclusions. (Nike)

It’s elegance and national pride in perfect harmony. And they’re a decent football team too, as an added bonus.

(aybollads=window.aybollads||[]).push(id:"91015553-3");

Nigeria: 10/10

If the World Cup were won by how much kits were a visual feast for the eyes, Nigeria would right now be lauded for bringing home a first-ever title for the African continent.

Photo: Just LOOK at this bad boy. Top of the class. (Nike)

An electric, almost soothing shade of green, paired with white and laced with zappy chevrons that screams energy, the Super Eagles will be a sight to behold if their pacey forwards get cracking in these numbers.

As if it needs bonus points for an incredible sales pitch, Nike goes for it anyway by saying the kit is inspired by “Naija” spirit, meaning “youthful exuberance, pride and fresh perspective on patriotism”.

Brazil: 7/10

Brazil’s kits will always be iconic and impressive. This year it’s more of the same, though the darker shade of yellow seems to undersell it just a smidge.

Photo: Brazil is sporting an ever-so-slightly darker shade of yellow in Russia this time round. (Nike)

There are two take-home messages from this, though: The Socceroos’ bright kit will look just a bit more impressive in comparison, and Neymar (assuming he heals up in time) will always look good as long as the silky skills are on show.

Switzerland: 7/10

Honestly, we’re not sure if this pattern even works, but damn it, the idea is at least novel.

Photo: Can you see the Matterhorn? (Puma)

It’s what you’d expect from Switzerland’s red kit, except this time they’ve interlaced it with a topographical map of the Swiss countryside. The Matterhorn is situated just above the wearer’s heart.

An idea as refreshing as the air in the Swiss Alps.

Costa Rica: 6/10

It’s basic, but Costa Rica will always enjoy an advantage in these stakes with the ever-handsome colour combination of royal red and royal blue.

Photo: Costa Rica’s kit isn’t exactly something to shout about, but they’ll always win out with the red-blue combination. (New Balance)

This time, a little subtle complication is thrown into the mix with a neat gradient pattern on one side of the shirt. Slow and steady wins the race.

Serbia: 3/10

All the good stuff went into producing Serbia’s obscene sporting talent, and nothing was left for the design brains trust.

Photo: Serbia’s kit: Nothing to see here. (Puma)

A boring, generic shirt, where even the numbers look a little moth-eaten.

Germany: 9/10

Goodness gracious. If anyone can do retro design, it’s the Germans.

Photo: Germany’s kit: Retro. Stylish. A winner. (Adidas)

If you thought black and white was a pretty vanilla colour combo, think again. Striking Adidas shoulders, a clean monochrome throughout, and as for that swoosh!

It makes us want to do our geometry lessons in high school maths class all over again.

Mexico: 7/10

Deep dark green, white edges, and a strobe finish on the flanks. Mexico’s got itself a kit that demands to be taken seriously.

Photo: From the mean streets of Mexico to a World Cup pitch near you. (Adidas)

It’s all business from El Tri, who will be looking for second spot at least in Group F.

Sweden: 5/10

Can do better, Sweden!

Photo: Pretty much what you’d expect from the Swedes. (Adidas)

From the home of sound, economical design, Sweden had the tools to do something truly brilliant in Russia. The ingredients were there — the subtle diagonal bars hint at so much promise, but generally it’s a bit of a let down from the Scandinavians.

South Korea: 2/10

It’s red.

Photo: South Korea’s kit is red. And that’s all we have to say about that. (Nike)

Anyone who struggled to come up with ideas for dress-up parties knows the feeling the Korean designers appear to have gone through, here. Grab an old shirt you haven’t worn in ages and hope for the best.

Those hopes appear dashed.

Belgium: 9/10

Nicely done! Belgium has had some fun with this one, with a cool geometric splash across the chest of its red kit.

Photo: Belgium’s home kit is sharp, but would it be fair to say they have won of the best away numbers in 2018? (Adidas)

We’re only marking home kits here, because we’re trying our best not to be influenced by that fabulous golden number they’re sporting as their change strip.

Panama: 5/10

The World Cup debutants could be the tournament’s whipping boys, but they at least won’t finish last in the fashion grades.

Photo: Panama will be making it’s World Cup debut in this simple, striking number. (New Balance)

A handsome red with fading, bevelled blocks across the Panamanian pecs should see the underdogs go out swinging in more ways than one.

Tunisia: 1/10

Nope. Not good enough from the fabled “Eagles of Carthage”.

Photo: Other than the lapel crest, there is nothing about Tunisia’s kit that screams ‘Eagles of Carthage’. (Uhlsport)

If you have the tournament’s greatest nickname, you would surely come up with a kit to match? A plain white top, with afterthought red as the finishes. It really could have been so much more.

England: 8/10

Say what you want about our colonial friends, England really does know how to make a simple design go a long way.

Photo: England’s kit is typically stately with a touch of class. (Nike)

The 1966 Cup winners have imbued their mostly white kit with understated elegance, making for a fine sight when they go out on penalties in the round of 16.

Poland: 7/10

Sharp and to the point, Poland isn’t messing about with their attire offering.

Photo: Robert Lewandowski looks dangerous in anything, but he’s particularly shop in Poland’s World Cup offering. (Nike)

A team that could prove to be a bit of a smoky in Russia, they’ve got a kit to match: Looks simple at first, but peer a little closer and there are quite a few nice finishes.

So kind of like Robert Lewandowski, in kit form.

Senegal: 5/10

Senegal have gone for the faded emblem print in the “background”, and it doesn’t quite come off convincingly.

Photo: A nifty design in the background, but hardly a world beater from Senegal. (Puma)

Judge the Lions of Teranga by their footballers, I guess — they’ve got a host of good ones this year — because the kit, while not terrible, isn’t a world beater, neither.

Colombia: 8/10

Retro! Retro! Retro! Colombia’s kit is unapologetically a throwback to the days of afro-sporting footballers and silky stepovers.

Photo: James Rodriguez sports Colombia’s home kit, another selection which has gone for the retro look. (Adidas)

The early ’90s-style zaps on the chest make it look a bit like that lightning bolt from the Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers emblem, too.

Japan: 9/10

Ending the list strongly, Japan’s dark blue kit is less of a throwback and more of a nod towards the country’s Samurai heritage.

Photo: Oh my, yes. Very, very, very slick from Japan, here. (Adidas)

And hats off, Samurai Blue have played an absolute blinder here. It’s so very Japanese: beautiful, sharp, sophisticated, meticulous and meant to be taken very, very seriously.

Topics:

soccer-world-cup,

soccer,

sport,

russian-federation

Source link

0 notes