#JUST ABSOLUTELY SEETHING WITH HOMOSEXUALITY | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cinnaminsvga · 4 years

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🤬 | seokjin

the sleep deprived series (n.): drabbles that i write when i’m sad and tired

→ frenemy!seokjin ft. e2l and the magnificent get-along sweater | 2K words → a/n: this is dedicated to my homie @jincherie who has been, as they say, wiping her ass everyday only to shit again. i can’t really do much to actually alleviate your circumstances except maybe making you smile, so i hope this can be your tiny ray of sunshine amidst the crap. this fic literally makes no sense because i wrote this within one hour so i’m sorry but pls know that ilysm!!

“Where’d you even fucking get this abomination?” you growl, struggling fruitlessly against the coarse fabric. In your fidgeting, your elbow knocks into Seokjin’s broad chest, causing more damage to your weak joints than anything. Even so, Seokjin grunts overdramatically, stepping on your toes in retaliation.

“Yoongi-chi, you know that I love you very much—” Seokjin seethes, his teeth clenched almost painfully as he fights to restrain himself from ripping the sweater in half, a la Hulk style. “—but I will not hesitate to stab you once I get out of here.”

“Not my fault that you both are acting like a bunch of toddlers,” Yoongi snorts, hip jutted out in contempt like the homosexual that he is. “And to answer your other question, I bought that sweater online after your last fight, when you two were literally wrestling on the kitchen counter. I didn’t know whether I walked into some intense BDSM play or a WWE ring.”

“You bought a fucking get-along sweater for us? What are you, some sort of Christian camp counselor?” you growl, kicking your legs out in an attempt to hit him. The slimy twink bastard jumps away gracefully, landing onto the loveseat opposite the couch that you were sitting on. He crosses his legs, opening his arms wide when your traitorous cat jumps onto his lap, looking to all the world like a terrible Bond villain from the 80s.

“If I was Christian, I would not put the two of you into a sweater together,” Yoongi says. He strokes your cat, who purrs loudly before pointing a contemptuous glare back at you, as if she was enjoying your torture too. Dumb cat. You never liked Miko anyway.

Yoongi continues, “Anyone would two eyes knows that you both are just one brawl away from fucking each other into the next dimension. Lord knows that your sexual tension could power the entire city.”

It’s Seokjin’s turn to snort, who has been relatively quiet in comparison to you. He’s also less fidgety, but that might be because he at least has the advantage and comfort of occupying 90% of the sweater space due to his oceanic shoulders. You once described him as “horizontally imbalanced,” which he did not find slightly amusing.

“I would rather place my balls into a panini press and feed them to Miko than to ever fuck Y/N,” Seokjin fake-gags, squirming uncomfortably in his seat. “It would be less hot for me to actually grill my penis than for me to sink into her hell-ish cunt. I swear, you could bake bread in there with how much yeast has accumulated from—“

You headbutt his chin before he can finish, squawking indignantly. The satisfying sound of his teeth clacking together in pain is momentary but worthwhile. “Excuse you, but it’d be an honor to fuck me! I’ve got that S-tier pussy! If my pussy was in a gacha game, people would spend thousands of dollars just to roll for my mystical coochie!”

Yoongi smirks. “So you admit that you do want Seokjin to fuck you!”

“What the fuck! No! That is—what the—I don’t!” You stammer, face flushing as you struggle to regain your footing in the conversation. Yoongi’s eyebrow raises, intrigued by your slip-up. “That is totally not what I meant, and you know it!”

Yoongi picks at his nails, pointedly avoiding eye contact. “Sorry, I don’t speak hetero. Prithee, explain thy peculiar mating rituals to one who does not walk the straight and narrow path.”

You slump back against the couch, forcing Seokjin to follow and fall backward with you. His shoulder hits you square in the boob, causing you to groan in pain. “Yoongi, just let us out of this thing before I lose a limb to this walking inflatable tubeman,” you plead, ignoring Seokjin’s glare.

“I resent that,” Seokjin inputs, but no one pays him any mind. Your attention is focused solely on the smirking kitty man in front of you, who grows smugger as time ticks on.

Everyone in your friend group is aware of the weird relationship you have with Seokjin. Ever since you met him in your freshman year of university, things were never peaceful between the two of you. It was always constant bickering, squabbling, competing… everything. Even Jungkook, Seokjin’s other sworn enemy, doesn’t argue with the elder as much as you did.

For three years, everyone just assumed it was your weird kindergarten schoolyard way of showing affection for each other, and at the beginning, it might have been. You and Seokjin, both of whom have never dated in their lifetimes despite being moderately popular while growing up, are unsurprisingly emotionally stunted and never learned how to just be nice to people you like. Affection who? Compassion where? To the both of you, physical connection can only be achieved through hair tugging and nipple pinching, and not even in the sexy way.

But at a certain point, things were starting to get tiring. Your arguments only grew larger in scale, to the point where it was getting hard to differentiate whether the bruises on your neck were from pinches or something else.

“I just… Ugh… When are they gonna fuck, hyung? I’m actually getting tired of their constant fighting,” Namjoon had lamented one afternoon, just a day after your last altercation with Seokjin. It had been a big one, where Seokjin nearly lost a tooth when you had landed a neat uppercut squarely on his jaw after he called your toes ‘a foot fetishist’s worst nightmare.’

Yoongi’s boyfriend had been staring listlessly into his bowl of soup for the past hour, and he was honestly starting to get worried when it looked like Namjoon had started muttering to himself in a foreign language. Yoongi almost thought he might have been scrying for a prophecy, begging for an answer to their most pressing question.

“What do you want me to do about it? Lock them in a room and let them out only after they’ve done the deed? Mixed bodily fluids? Performed the monkey dance to its climax?! No thanks, I don’t wanna be near them when that can of worms finally explodes,” Yoongi grimaced, shivering at the thought.

Namjoon shook his head quickly, face paling with him. “Heaven forbid. Maybe you can keep it PG? How about getting one of those get-along sweaters or something. I think they used those in kindergarten.”

Yoongi sighed. “Yeah, but the question would be how I’d get them into it.” He flaps his noodle arms around in demonstration. “I’m not exactly in the running for world’s strongest twink. Plus, years of fighting each other means they’re both stronger than I am.”

Namjoon shrugged. “Easy, just dare them to wear it. Make it into a competition. Nothing gets them more riled up than when they’re trying to outcompete each other.”

And so, that’s how the two of you had gotten stuck in a 3XXL Hello Kitty sweater that Yoongi had bought from Ebay. It has yet to be decided whether spending $40 on expedited shipping was worth it.

“Look, Yoongi-chi. We both promise that we will stop fighting once you let us out of this,” Seokjin says, smiling sweetly at him. Had Yoongi been younger and much more prone to the alluring temptation of the Straight Man™️, he might have caved. But Yoongi is older now, plus he knows when Seokjin is lying better than any polygraph test.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, waving him off. “Fat chance. You’d probably stop fighting for approximately three hours before getting mad about mint chocolate ice cream or something.”

“Hey! Give us some credit. We both agree that flavor is abhorrent, so we would never argue about that,” you retort, with Seokjin nodding furiously in agreement. You glance at him. “And I feel like we’d last at least six hours without fighting. What was our record again?”

“Five hours and twenty-two minutes,” Seokjin says.

You hum thoughtfully. “Okay, I can promise at least five hours and thirty minutes. Maybe.”

Yoongi groans, rubbing his temples in frustration. His souring mood even makes Miko jump away in fright, and the two idiots trapped in a sweater can immediately feel the dip in temperature. Uh oh, here we go!

“I am absolutely sick and tired of the two of you dumbasses fighting all the time! It’s embarrassing as hell trying to bring either of you anywhere in public because everyone mistakes your little catfights for strange foreplay or whatever,” Yoongi glowers. The two of you shrink into your seats, ashamed.

“We’ve only gotten kicked out of one Costco—” Seokjin defends.

“But we did get fined for public indecency at the beach when I pulled your trunks down, which was totally unfair, by the way,” you mutter.

“You literally threatened to, and I quote, ‘Suck the soul out of Seokjin’s dick until he dies.’ How the hell is that unfair?!” Yoongi exclaims.

“It was a death threat! I would’ve accepted a charge for attempted murder, but that was not going to be a sexy blowjob, I assure you—”

Yoongi holds up a hand to silence you. “Face it, you both like each other. Whatever! Sure, you guys are the token straight people in our friend group, but that doesn’t make you bland as hell! Well, actually, it does but…” Yoongi pauses, wondering if it was worth lying. It takes a second for him to refocus. “Where was I? Oh right—“

Yoongi clears his throat, starting again. He heaves a deep breath, shoulders sagging tiredly as he puts on the sincerest face he can muster. “Listen, I just want to say that I care a lot about you, okay? And it sucks seeing the both of you hurting every time the other person says something really mean that neither of you even mean! If anything, will you please stop for me? If you really cared about our friendship, will you do it for me?”

There is a heavy pause as Yoongi strives to get his breathing back in check, his impassioned speech causing his fragile grandpa heart to race. He can feel his cheeks darkening in embarrassment, unused to using his “hyung voice” on Seokjin or you. Separately, the two of you are very reliable, never really needing him to scold either of you. Together, however… that’s a different story, but as the next eldest hyung, it really only fell to Yoongi to fix his friends’ mess of a relationship.

Screw age hierarchy. Yoongi would love to see Jungkook try to get Seokjin and you to fuck. Would absolutely pay to see the twerp squirm as he tries to even say the word “penis.”

After a while, Seokjin and you share a look. Yoongi watches with bated breath as he waits for either of you to speak, but he can sense some unspoken conversation happening between you. Perhaps, after years of exchanging blows, you had somehow knocked brain cells into each other and now share a weird psychic connection. Or, more likely, the two of you actually like each other and understand each other on a deeply personal level, so personal in fact that you could probably finish each other’s sentences, like—!

“We refuse,” you both reply in tandem, your joined voices echoing throughout the apartment. You both had said it so in sync that Yoongi might have imagined the other person speaking, but no—you both really did just say that to his face. In front of Miko. In front of his goddamn imaginary salad.

“Excuse me?” Yoongi squeaks. He cleans his ears with his fingers but finds no cotton there. These bitches! How dare they just throw his speech to the gutter! That shit took brain cells to think of, and he is not in the business of wasting his precious minutes by using them for productivity.

You shrug, leaning against Seokjin’s shoulder. He can see the ghost of a smirk tugging at your lips, thoroughly enjoying Yoongi’s confusion. “You heard us. We’ve made the executive decision to double our efforts, actually.”

Seokjin nods, not even shoving you off his shoulder like he normally would whenever you made contact with him. What? “Exactly. Honestly, we’ve been fighting for so long that we’ve kinda been just doing it for the bit at this point, and the fact that it annoys you so much is just the icing on the cake.”

Yoongi stares at them. His brain doesn’t feel like it’s connecting to his body at all; he feels like he’s floating. “So. What you’re saying is—“

“We know we like each other. Whatever. But we also like fighting, so who gives a shit if we’re having fun at the end of the day?” you shrug, pinching Seokjin’s cheek for good measure. As per usual, the elder retaliates by grabbing your finger with robot-like accuracy, before biting you there like a ravaging beast.

“And before you ask, no, we aren’t really dating. Yet. We kinda just wanted to piss as many people off before actually becoming official. We honestly didn’t think that you’d be the first one to crack.” Seokjin says, your finger falling from his mouth. The imprint of his teeth marks on your skin are plain as day, but you don’t look remotely bothered by it. In fact, you’re practically cooing at his ‘baby teefies’ like a psychopath.

“I—“ Yoongi stutters, at a loss for words for once in his life. He stands from the chair, but his knees give out from under him, causing him to tumble to the carpeted floor. He holds his head in his hands, shell-shocked. “So… That means…”

“Yeah, we’re kinda just freaky, I guess.” You muse before laughing hysterically when Yoongi begins to sob. “Hey, you’re right! We did make Yoongi cry! Do you think we could make Namjoon piss himself in rage when he finally confronts us too?”

Seokjin cackles, shaking your hand underneath the sweater. “If anyone can do it, I know that we can.”

And so, the two of you stand up clumsily to your feet, not bothering to escape the ridiculous sweater as you both waddled out of Yoongi’s apartment. From outside his door, Yoongi hears the sound of a new fight commencing, your shrieks resonating down the hall and for all the world to hear.

#btsghostie #bts scenarios #seokjin x reader #bts x reader #bts reader insert #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts humor #e2l #kim seokjin #seokjin scenarios #jin scenarios #bangtan #bts fanfic #the sleep deprived series

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dastardlydandelion · 3 years

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medium luci

ao3 link

content warnings: homophobia, comphet, child abuse, abusive relationships

It’s rare that Susan and Neil have the same weekday off. Neil typically works five days a week and she three or four, depending who’s on staff, being that she’s only part-time. But he’d had a dentist appointment midmorning so he’d taken today off and decided to make his hours up by volunteering for a double next week.

Susan doesn’t typically care to spend any extra time alone with her husband. They have so little to talk about these days, now that he doesn’t try to butter her up or feed her honey sweet lies as much as he used to. Now that Neil doesn’t care to talk much at all unless ranting or complaining about the various things he doesn’t like, his son’s style of dress, women who sit with their legs open, cab drivers who don’t speak English. Susan doesn’t even remember the last time Neil had to take a cab but he has strong opinions on them nonetheless, and the list goes on and on.

He thankfully hasn’t done much of that today, however. He’d parked himself in front of the television after coming home from his appointment and simply nodded when Susan announced she was going out to garden. She only comes inside when she hears the phone ring and by the time she’s walking up the back steps, Neil’s already answered it.

She watches his expression change as he converses with whomever’s on the other end, nervousness fluttering in her chest as his eyes widen, then harden.

“I’ll be right there,” Neil concludes as he hangs up, turning those hard eyes onto Susan. “That was the school.”

“Oh dear…what’s Billy done this time?”

“Not Billy.” Neil shakes his head and Susan’s heart drops with the realization her husband isn’t just irritated but seething, knuckles blanched as his hands ball into tight fists. “Maxine. Did you know the Sinclairs have a girl around her age?”

“N-No, I didn’t. I’m not very familiar with them, Neil.” Susan never had much luck getting close to anyone anymore, not in the least because of Neil himself.

“Apparently Maxine is,” he declares icily. “A teacher caught her and the Sinclair girl fornicating under the bleachers.”

Susan’s heart turns to stone and sinks into her stomach.

No.

Please, no.

Neil has very strong opinions about sexuality in general and homosexual conduct in particular, and Susan can practically feel the outrage radiating from him. It crackles in the air like the promise of a lightning storm. Neil’s fists are still clenched and his posture goes taut like it always does before he explodes.

“W-Well,” Susan begins, swallowing past the lump in her throat.

She hates herself for what she is going to say. She says it anyway.

“Well, you know where she learned that kind of b-behavior from, don’t you?”

Because if Neil is going to explode, Susan can’t stop him. But she hopes she can at least encourage the worst of it away from Max. She watches Neil’s eyes flicker and knows they’re both remembering the day they came home early from the short vacation they’d taken for their fifth anniversary, a girl and a boy sneaking out of Billy’s bedroom window, neither particularly clothed. She watches the angry bulge of the vein pulsing in his neck and knows they’re both thinking of that short young fellow with the skateboard who worked at the used car lot during the day and spent his time with Billy during the night.

“Yes, I know exactly where she learned it from. I’m picking both of them up and we’re all going to have a family discussion.”

“I should come with you.”

“No.” Neil holds up his hand. “Stay here, Susan. We’ll be back soon enough.”

Neil has gun powder in his gaze and she dares not argue. She lowers her head and steps aside when he walks past to fetch the truck keys from the hook. He stomps down the steps and slams the backdoor shut behind him.

Susan watches through the window as he gets into the truck and pulls out of the driveway, feeling dreadfully ill. She doesn’t mean what she’d said, of course. There are a number of behaviors that Max has picked up from Billy, but that isn’t one of them. If anyone is to blame, Susan supposes it’s herself for passing it along intrinsically.

She has her own secret desires locked away within the chambers of her heart. Desire she dares not confront for her own sanity, for her own safety. She’s never acted on her wants, always chose to play private games of hide and seek with them in her head instead, those insidiously innocent wishes of hers. Never spoken aloud let alone pursued those urges that flush hot beneath her skin when she finds her eyes drawn to other women’s lips, hips, breasts.

Susan gave it to Max and unlike her, Max is brash and bold and brave. God save her, Max does what she wants to do and doesn’t care what other people think. Susan would admire her for it if it didn’t scare her to death.

Because Neil does care what other people think. He cares very much. And Susan’s seen him annoyed with Max in the past. She’s seen him frustrated with Max, displeased, exasperated. But never has she seen the silent stirring of a reign of rage to come where Max is concerned, never has she known that particular look in Neil’s eye to be directed Max’s way. She can only hope—

Oh, it’s such a despicable thing to hope for. Susan has poison in her soul, she swears she must. But Billy isn’t remotely hers and Max very much is.

* * *

Susan doesn’t know if it was actually her remark that spurred Neil to turn the blame on Billy or if this was the conclusion he would’ve come to anyway. Neil often blames Max’s mishaps and mischiefs on Billy. Billy being the older sibling meant to lead by example. Billy being the older brother, meant to keep his younger sister out of trouble to begin with.

Her remark or Neil’s default thought process, in any case, it’s Billy he’s glaring at in the living room. Angrily dictates that Billy take off his shirt, belt in hand. Susan grabs a very pale Max’s shoulders and begins to usher her down the hall.

“Where are you taking Maxine?”

Susan freezes, mouth going dry.

Neil’s looking their way now, brow arched, stern and skeptical.

“I-I—“

“She isn’t going to learn if she doesn’t watch, Susan,” he declares with no room for argument. “Bring her back.”

Susan swallows, hands tightening on Max’s shoulders. Something dies inside her when she turns her daughter around. She buries it silently as she’s buried so many other pieces before and avoids Max’s eyes boring into her as she marches her back to the living room. Neil motions for them to sit on the couch, sunlight glinting off the metal buckle. Billy doesn’t bother to disguise his disdain, glaring murder, nostrils flaring like an ornery bovine. Susan suspects he’ll pay for this too.

“Your behavior today was beyond inappropriate, Maxine,” Neil tells her coldly. “Unnatural, disgusting, absolutely unacceptable.”

Max squirms next to Susan, hands tucking under her thighs. She is stone faced but this close, Susan can feel her shaking.

“Now, I know it’s not all your fault. Big Brother here’s taught you—“

“I didn’t teach her shit!” Billy cuts him off, sharp and acidic. “I told her to steer clear from Sinclair, this isn’t on me!”

Neil punches his son in the stomach with all the affect of swatting a fly, once, twice. Susan flinches. Billy’s gasping, breath knocked out of him. He staggers and Neil viciously shoves him to the floor.

“She saw you with that faggot’s tongue down your throat, don’t think I don’t know! I know you, I know the kind of shit you think you can get away with behind my back!” Neil roars like thunder. “Well, now it’s my turn to teach her a thing or two! Pay attention, Maxine!”

Max stiffens beside her. She opens her mouth to protest and Susan grabs her arm, sinking her nails in. Startled, Max's eyes dart to her. Susan gives a tiny shake of the head, urging her not to speak. Max bends her elbow like a chicken wing and jerks her arm out of Susan’s grasp. Ire flares in her gaze but she holds her tongue. She does not challenge Neil as he begins beating Billy with the belt.

Susan can’t watch. She lowers her eyes to the floor. She can see the movement in the shadows, Neil’s rapid whipping of the improvised weapon and Billy’s form jolting with the blows. Susan shuts her eyes to the shadows but she can still hear it, thick, hard leather striking bare flesh.

“Don’t turn away, Maxine,” Neil barks at some point between the sounds of violence.

Billy doesn’t cry out. Eventually it’s over. Susan raises her head and cannot bear more than a glance at her stepson braced on his hands and knee. The belt now rests at Neil’s side and still, her stomach is churning.

“If there is ever a repeat of the conduct you displayed today, there will be consequences. Is that understood, Maxine?”

Max looks to Susan. Her eyes are wavering. Then they glean whatever it is they were searching for from Susan’s and harden.

“Yes,” she mumbles.

“Yes, what?”

Max clears her throat.

“Yes, sir,” she corrects, louder and clearer.

“Both of you to your rooms,” he commands. “I want both of you to reflect on your actions until it’s time for dinner.”

“Yes, sir,” Billy answers this time, climbing to his feet in the corner of Susan’s eye. She remains on the couch as her daughter rises and plods down the hall, cheeks as red as the cherry atop a sundae. Flushed as red as the welts on Billy’s back that have Susan’s stomach in ropes even though she only spares a brief glance.

Neil sets the belt aside and plops down in his armchair. “Can you get me a beer, Susan?”

She nods and rises, quietly fetching one. Pops the tab and then passes it to him before she excuses herself. In times like this, Susan wants to leave more than anything. She wants to grab Max and take her far, far away. But she can’t imagine they would get anywhere, truly.

Neil controls the finances. Susan makes less money than he does and every cent she does earn inevitably winds up under Neil’s attentive purview. In a distant, ostensible kind of way Susan understands there are shelters for women in her situation. Shelters out there, somewhere…aren’t there? For her situation?

Neil hasn’t actually put his hands on her. Not yet. Not like what he just did to Billy. Hasn’t actually done so to Max, although the threat of that unfolded in the living room in a way that could not be more crystal clear. The threat alone feels like a fist to Susan, invisible fist clenched tight around her insides and squeezing so hard she's nauseous.

Is the threat enough? Would Susan and Max be accepted on the basis of threats alone?

Provided she could ever find such a place to begin with. Susan doesn’t have the faintest clue of where to look for what feels more like a nebulous fantasy of a sanctuary than a tangible reality. A shimmering oasis in the desert. Even if she were to locate such a place, what if it were at full capacity?

What if she and Max got turned away?

That would mean choosing between being homeless or going back to Neil. Going back to Neil after a failed escape would certainly mean him making good on all those threats of his, the ones verbal and non. The examples explicit in his words and implicit in his actions. Above all, any failed escape would certainly ensure there would be no second escape.

Susan isn’t going anywhere. And neither is Max. The very notion is abstract and distorted, floating just out of reach in a gaussian blur of a wish. Their home isn’t a good home. But it is the home they have and so, Susan will simply have to do her best to make sure Max never does anything like this again. That Max never does anything to get Neil’s attention like that, nothing to stoke the coals always smoldering in his choleric soul. That as painful as it's sure to be, Max learns to keep certain parts of herself under lock and key.

When dinner is in the oven and Neil is engrossed in his program, Susan slips off to Max’s bedroom. She knocks quietly and lets herself in. Her throat knots up at the tear tracks on her daughter’s cheeks, far more gutting than the way she bristles as Susan steps closer, the sheer hurt in her eyes.

“What do you want?”

The same things as you, Susan thinks irresistibly. And I’d go after them too, if I didn’t know better.

“I’m sorry, Max.”

Max huffs and turns away. “Whatever.”

“I am.”

“No you’re not. You’re just like Neil, you think I’m disgusting,” Max spits, hiking her legs up on the bed and hugging her knees to her chest. “You think Billy’s disgusting too, you couldn’t even look at him.”

“No, I don’t…oh, Max.” Susan swallows and lowers herself to a sit beside her on the bed, gently placing a hand on her knee. She swallows her heartbreak when Max’s eyes flash as though the touch scalds her. “Neil and I disagree about many things. This is one of them.”

“Then why didn’t you say that?” The blaze in Max’s eyes dies down, voice softening to cinders. “Why didn’t you stop him?”

“Oh, he’s so much bigger than me, Max.” Susan sags with familiar defeat. “And I— I don’t think it’s wrong, you and this girl.”

“Lucy.”

“I’m sure Lucy is lovely,” leaves Susan’s lips, this fragile whisper she dares not tempt fate to speak above. “I could never think that you’re disgusting. But I’m just me, Max, and Neil is bigger, and the world…the world too, is so much bigger than I am. You can’t— never, ever in public.”

Max’s eyes widen. Susan shifts on the bed and moves her hands, finds both of Max’s and squeezes tight.

“You cannot be open with feelings like that. You can’t take girls to your school dances, you can’t kiss them where other people could see.”

Max lets out an angry growl even as her eyes well up.

“It’s not fair!”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“That’s not good enough!”

“I know.” She knows, oh, she knows, she’s never not choking on it.

Max chews her lip, scarlet and fuming. Susan halfway expects her daughter to headbutt her or holler right in her ear until she deafens. But after a moment it’s almost as if Max can decode all the things she cannot say because her hands twist under Susan’s and intertwine their fingers.

#my fic tag #susan hargrove #max mayfield #neil hargrove #billy hargrove #kinda an inversion of that one fandom trope #ig

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ceealaina · 4 years

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Title: Hot for Teacher Collaborator Name: ceealaina Card Number: 3088 Link: AO3 Square Filled: Adopted - AU: Teacher Ship: Stony, IronBros Rating: Teen Major Tags: Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Humor Summary: Tony is the established physics teacher, Steve is the truly terrible new guidance counsellor. It's not quite love at first sight (but it's a pretty close thing). Word Count: 10,660

Tony drew in a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rogers told you what now?”

Miles grinned at him, like he knew he was raising his blood pressure with every word. “He said that he didn’t go to university. He actually dropped out of school when he was sixteen, and took a solo road trip across all of the US before he got his GED. Said it was the best decision he ever made.”

“Of course he did.” Tony fully dissociated for a moment, staring off into the distance before he shook his head with a full body shudder. “Well, regardless of what your esteemed guidance counselor may have told you, you should very, very, very strongly consider not doing… Any of that, and definitely going to university. And uh… Maybe come to me if you need help with those university applications, cause… Jesus fucking Christ.”

In the back of the room Cassie and Kamala giggled. “Mr. Stark!” Cassie gasped, feigning shock. “You said a bad word!”

Tony just scrubbed a hand over his face. “I hate you all,” he informed them cheerfully.

By lunchtime, Tony was still seething over the fact that the new guidance counselor was advocating for dropping out of school. He had term projects to approve, but couldn’t focus on the proposals, fingers thrumming irritably against his desk. He lasted all of five minutes before he was getting up, marching down the hall to said guidance counselor’s office and knocking sharply on the open door.

“Mr. Rogers? Could I—,”

Tony cut himself off abruptly.

The thing was, he hasn’t actually met Steve Rogers before. And while he wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, it wasn’t someone built like a brick house — although, he’d heard that he was friends with Barnes, that was how he’d gotten the job, so maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised. But their new guidance counselor was tall, blond, and all kinds of muscley, biceps flexing in a way too tight t-shirt as he bit into a ridiculously large sandwich. He’d jumped at Tony’s sudden arrival, turning big blue eyes up at him, and good god, that was one handsome man.

Shaking his head, Tony forced a tight smile to his face. “Could I have a word?”

He nodded quickly, frantically trying to swallow down his enormous bite, and Tony worked very hard at not imagining what else he could stuff his mouth with. Mr. Rogers scrubbed a hand over the back of his mouth, wiping off some sauce that had spilled, and did an awkward, half stand.

“Yes, yes of course,” he said, reaching his arm out. “Sorry, we haven’t met yet?”

Despite how frustrated he was, Tony couldn’t help grinning; the man was an absolute mess. He moved forward to take his hand, feeling a little swirl of satisfaction at how obviously surprised he was at the strength in Tony’s grip. “Mr. Stark -- Tony.”

“Oh yeah! Physics, right? It’s nice to meet you. I’m Steve.” He moved to pull a stack of folders off a chair. “Please, sit down. What can I do for you?”

Tony took the offered chair, leaning back against it comfortably as he eyed Steve for a long moment. “Steve, can I ask how long you’ve been a guidance counselor?”

“Uhh.” Steve shifted a little. “Not long?” He gave a crooked smile that Tony did not find endearing. “About a week and a half?”

“Yeah. That’s what I figured.” Tony sighed. “Steve, are you encouraging kids to drop out of high school?”

“What?” Steve’s eyes went wide and horrified. “No! No, of course not! I…” His gaze shifted to something guilty. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

Steve gave him a hopeful smile. “I may have mentioned something about my own… Choices... as a teenager.”

“Uh huh.” Tony gave him a ‘go on’ gesture.

“It was meant to be inspirational! They get so stressed! They’re trying to decide their entire lives when they’re only kids! So you know… I was trying to show them that not everyone has to follow the same path but also things can turn out completely differently from how you expected and it’s never too late to go back?”

“Jesus Christ,” Tony muttered, rubbing at his eyes. “Well, at least you seem to genuinely care about the kids, I’ll give you that. But Steve, we’re just trying to get them as prepared for life as we can. You can’t give them ideas like that, and you especially can’t make them think things’ll work out all hunky dory if they do.”

“Hunky dory?” Steve repeated before realizing that wasn’t really the point of what Tony was saying. “Right,” he said, looking properly chastised now. “Right, no, of course. That makes sense.”

“Okay.” Tony was lingering now, but he wasn’t entirely sure why. “Great.” He got to his feet and headed for the door before he could make things weird. “It was nice meeting you, Steve.”

Over the next couple weeks, Steve kept spotting Tony around the school. He tried not to ogle him like a creeper, but judging by the way Bucky laughed at him every time they ate lunch together, he wasn’t successful. He couldn’t help it. Tony had been like some kind of gorgeous whirlwind, and he couldn’t stop thinking about him, wondering about him.

And then, two weeks later, he was back with the same sharp knock and consternated expression. (Steve, thankfully, wasn’t stuffing his face this time.)

“Tony! What, uh… Something I can help you with? I’ve been doing everything by the book, I swear. No more epic road trip stories.”

Tony drew in the deepest breath, like a complete drama queen. “Steve. I understand a book told you to do it, but the Chamber of Secrets this is not. Please stop telling my seniors that abstinence is the only truly effective birth control method. The ones in my AP Physics class are taking it as a personal challenge to design an IUD that works as a cum trebuchet."

Steve blinked at him for a very long minute, trying to work out if he was serious, trying not to--

He burst out laughing. Full on, hand-on-his-chest, eyes streaming, can’t breathe laughter. It was a solid three minutes before he began to calm down and when he finally stopped laughing, Tony was just watching him. He was doing his absolute best to look annoyed, but Steve could see the little hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.

“That’s uh… Thank you,” Steve managed, tamping down on another burst of laughter. “I really needed that today.”

“Yeah,” Tony told him dryly. “Glad I could help.”

Steve grinned back at him. “I’ll, uh. I’ll take that under consideration.”

When Tony came in the next morning, his AP students were huddled in the back corner, all giggling in that terrifying way that only teenagers could manage. He was so not feeling it -- he was still waiting for that last coffee to kick in -- but he took a rejuvenating breath and asked the question anyway.

“Okay, let’s hear it. Get it out of the way so we can get to sciencing. What’s so funny?”

This set off another round of giggling, half the kids blushing, and none of them quite looking at him. It was, finally, Riri who spoke.

“This morning Mr. Rogers told America Chavez that homosexual sex is also a 100% effective birth control method.”

Tony stared blankly out the window for a long minute. “Of course he did,” he muttered. “Okay, as thrilling as Mr. Rogers’ questionable sex ed is, let’s get started on some actual physics, hmm?”

While the kids got settled for the class, Tony took a moment to collect himself. It was quite possible that Steve was kinda a total troll.

It was quite possible that Tony kinda liked him.

Of course something got back to a parent, who complained about the school promoting a homosexual agenda. Steve didn’t get in trouble, exactly, but it was brought up in the staff meeting.

The enormous jar of rainbow-coloured condoms showed up on Steve’s desk the next day.

Tony had heard it through the student gossip line that, in addition to them being available for anyone to take as needed, he was getting students to guess how many there were in the jar, as some kind of ice breaker. If they were close, they got a mini Kit Kat bar.

He made it half a day before he was stopping in to see for himself.

Tony had prepared some semblance of an excuse for why he was there, some actual reason that the physics teacher might have had for engaging with the guidance counselor (again). But when he tapped on the door, Steve was looking up with a smile like he’d been expecting him. And then his gaze settled on the enormous jar of condoms, and Tony forgot to pretend to be there for anything else.

“What the fuck?” He couldn’t help laughing, a little incredulous. “Okay Steve, they’re teenagers. How much actual sex do you think most of them are really having?”

Steve shrugged unapologetically, but he had an absolutely shit-eating grin on his face. “I just like to be prepared. Wouldn’t want to run out.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest, eyebrows arching. “Wanna guess all the flavors? None of the students have gotten close yet.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed as he blinked at the jar. “They’re not even flavored.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “That’s the joke,” he told him, like that was supposed to have been obvious. “Fine, since you’re so smart. Guess how many there are in the jar.”

Tony glanced back over at the jar, wrinkling his nose for about half a second. “Seven hundred and fifty… eight,” he announced.

Steve blinked. “What?”

“What?”

Still leaning back in his chair, Steve stared at Tony, then stared at the jar, then stared back at Tony. Then he shot forward and grabbed the jar, upending the entire thing over his desk. Making eye contact with him, he picked up a handful and started tossing them back in the jar one at a time, counting them out loud as he went. Tony started laughing, the sound close to a giggle.

“You’re not seriously going to count them all.”

Steve gave him an imperious look. “Gotta see if you’re right. Now be quiet. You’re going to throw off my count.”

Tony knew this was ridiculous, but he couldn’t seem to make himself leave. He kept telling himself he shouldn’t be encouraging Steve, but he stayed anyway, watching and laughing as he meticulously counted out each and every condom.

He’d made it to 616 when Bucky appeared, looming in the doorway as he poked at his phone. “Hey Stevie, you ready to go for… Lunch?” He trailed off as he looked up and saw what the two of them were doing, his eyebrows going sky high. “Uh. I’ll come back. Looks like you two are gonna be awhile. I don’t know what this is annnnnnnnd I don’t think I want to.”

“It’s science, Bucky,” Steve told him snottily, not looking up from his condom count.

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is not science.”

“Of course it is!”

“Right,” Bucky said. “I’m just gonna…” He pointed for the door, but neither of them even looked his way as he left again.

“It’s math, Steve, and it’s barely that,” Tony insisted. “This is... counting.”

Steve gave him a look like he was an absolute fool. “I may be a lowly guidance counsellor, but I still know what counting is, Tony. The science is figuring out whether you can actually calculate the number of condoms in the jar --,”

“I can.”

“-- Or if you were spouting shit to fuck with me.”

“I wasn’t. And it’s still math, Steve. You’ve got the volume of the jar, and then size of the condom square. Math.”

Steve stared at him for a long minute and then, without breaking eye contact, tossed another condom back into the jar. “Six hundred and eighteen.”

Tony arched an eyebrow at him. “That was six hundred and seventeen.”

Steve ended up having to start over twice, and Tony was so busy laughing at him that he didn’t realize until 2:05 that he’d missed both his lunch and his free period and was, in fact, five minutes late for his AP Physics class.

“Shit,” he yelped, hopping out of his seat. “Those kids don’t let anything go, I’ve gotta run.” He paused in the doorway just long enough to give Steve a smirk. “Let me know when you’ve proved me right!”

The kids were all scattered around the room when he got there, Riri, Harley, and Kamala giggling over something on their phones, Cassie and Kate comparing notes on homework that was definitely not for physics, and Peter and Miles experimenting with something in the corner that may or may not have been explosive. Tony shook his head, feeling a headache coming on.

“Okay, I’m sorry I’m late, unavoidable circumstances. Let’s get started, yeah?”

“Mr. Stark!” Peter called, beaming at him. Nobody made any move to go to their seats. “If you’d taken seven more minutes, we’d be legally allowed to go home.”

“That’s… Not even remotely true.” He shook his head and clapped his hands together. “Come on, children. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“Shouldn’t’ve been late then,” Harley snarked, but at least they were finally heading to their seats.

It was halfway through class when there was a knock on the door, and Tony opened it to some blonde girl he vaguely recognized from Nat’s lit class.

“Message for you from Mr. Rogers!” she chirped, heading off down the hall before he could ask further. His students were focused on their readings, and Tony took advantage of the moment to open the note, frowning as he tried to decipher the writing.

758 exactly. There’s something wrong with you. Also, I owe you lunch. Thursday?

Tony sat at his desk, and managed to read it over five times before Kamala happened to look up and see him.

“Hey, Mr. Stark? Why are you grinning like that?”

As soon as his lunch period started on Thursday, Tony headed down to Steve’s office, trying to convince himself that he hadn’t been looking forward to this since he’d gotten Steve’s note. The door was open, waiting for him, and he headed inside and promptly yelped as a king-sized Kit Kat bar was launched at his head.

“What the fuck?” He flailed as he tried to catch it, somehow managing not to drop it on the ground. He wasn’t particularly graceful about it, and Steve was openly laughing at him. “What was that for?”

Steve shrugged, unconcerned. “The kids get a mini Kat Kat if they’re close in their guess. You were exactly right, so I figured you get extra chocolate.”

Tony eyed him suspiciously and ignored the little delighted thrill in his stomach. “But you didn’t know how many condoms were in the jar.”

“Okay, so I just gave everyone a mini Kit Kat. Sue me.”

Tony just narrowed his eyes further. “So is this our lunch?”

Steve actually snorted. “Do I look like I survive on giant chocolate bars?” he asked, immediately flexing his biceps and twitching a pec. Tony started laughing, couldn’t stop himself, and Steve looked immensely pleased with himself. “No, Tony. I got us sushi.” Tony felt his eyebrows creep up to his hairline, and Steve huffed. “Okay, what?”

“Nothing!” Tony said quickly. “No, I just… You don’t strike me as a sushi guy.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “And what kind of guy, exactly, do you think I am?”

Tony shrugged as Steve passed him a container of sushi. “A giant, uncultured gym bro neanderthal who knows more about planking and protein shakes than he does guidance counselloring, but somehow got a job here anyway?”

“You’re such an asshole,” Steve muttered, but he was obviously fighting a smile.

Tony shrugged. “It’s like you know me or something.” He laughed, knocking back a tuna roll. “How did you get this job?”

“Bucky. We’re old friends, and now he’s my roommate too. So when the job opened, he hooked me up.”

“I mean, everyone knows that much. I meant why here? Why a guidance counsellor? No offense Steve, but you’re kinda terrible at it.”

Steve didn’t look offended in the slightest. “Hey, I wanted to teach art, but the job was already filled and somehow administration thinks art and guidance counselling are interchangeable.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Living in Brooklyn ain’t cheap. Somewhere since high school it became trendy, I guess? It was this or baristaing at a coffee shop near my apartment, but their coffee smells like soap.”

"Yikes."

"Yikes, indeed. Anyway, enough about why I’m so terrible at my job.” Steve nodded at the chopsticks in Tony’s hand. “Eat your damn sushi, Tony. You don’t eat enough.”

Tony paused with another tuna roll halfway to his mouth. “What do you mean, I don’t eat enough?”

“Every time you come in here it’s always over lunch. And then you usually stay through lunch and your prep period, and you don’t eat anything the entire time. You need to eat more.”

“Okay, stalker.” Tony shifted a little uncomfortably. “What are you, my nonna? I eat fine.” He huffed and slunk down in his seat, pulling his sushi tray closer on the desk. Steve just blinked back at him placidly and then reached out, putting his hand over top of Tony’s.

“It’s okay, Tony. I’m a guidance counsellor. You can talk to me.”

He said it in the same way that people on television crime procedurals tell the women they find in basements that they’re with the FBI, and Tony started laughing despite himself. And then he nearly choked on a California roll when Steve started passing him glossy pamphlets on healthy lifestyle choices.

The next day Tony made a point of showing up for lunch with a huge gas station soda and an enormous bag of pretzel sticks. Steve didn’t stop grinning the entire time.

Before either of them had realized it, it had turned into something of a routine. Not every day, but usually two or three times a week, Tony would forgo his lunch or prep period, or both, and come bother Steve instead. Steve had expressed concern once, that he wasn’t using his prep periods to, you know, prep, but Tony had assured him that being a genius came with some benefits. And really, his visits had quickly become the highlight of his day, and he had a feeling that Steve was enjoying them just as much, so he wasn’t going to worry about it too much.

Once Tony had gotten over his initial concerns about Steve’s guidance counselling methods, the two of them got along ridiculously well. Tony gave Steve shit constantly but it never failed to make him laugh, and he was just as good at giving it in kind. They bickered constantly, but it was friendly and easy and familiar.

Tony had never made friends easily. He got along great with all his coworkers, but with the possible exception of Nat, they were more friendly acquaintances than full friends. When he was a kid, Jarvis had told him that he was just too smart, that the other kids would catch up to him eventually. But that hadn’t seemed to happen, even as an adult. He didn’t know if people were freaked out by his multiple degrees, or if it was the chaotic energy he gave off, or most likely, some conflagration of the above, but aside from a few close friends -- who, admittedly, he wouldn’t trade for anything in the world -- people didn’t really… Warm to him.

Steve, though. Steve was different. Almost from the beginning Tony had felt a connection with him, and while he never failed to let Tony know how impressed he was by what he could do, he never seemed intimidated by him either. Tony would never say it to his face, but he kind of adored him.

Tony popped his head into Steve’s office a few minutes before the end of the day, arching an eyebrow when he found him frowning over some a manual with stick figures doing what looked like some kind of sport -- soccer, probably. He cleared his throat, and couldn’t help smiling back when Steve looked up and positively beamed at him.

“Getting a head start on your weekend reading there, Steve?”

Steve blew out an exasperated breath, rolling his eyes and scrubbing a hand over his face. “Soccer,” he explained, confirming Tony’s suspicions. “Apparently, I’m the new coach of the girl’s soccer team.” He pouted a little. “Administration is really hard to say no to.”

Tony considered this, taking a seat across from Steve and propping his feet up on the desk. “Why isn’t Clint doing it? It is kind of his job.”

“He’s busy with archery finals, it seems.”

“Archery… Finals?” Tony repeated, blinking curiously. “We’re the only school with an archery team. They split into two and compete against each other.”

Steve shrugged miserably, and Tony tossed a pen at his forehead to get him to smile.

“Hey, come on, there are worse things you could be coaching. Those lacrosse kids are wild.”

“Yeah…” Steve rubbed at the back of his neck. “Except for two tiny little details. First, those girls are intimidating as fuck. They scare the shit outta me. And second? I… Don’t actually know anything about soccer.”

Tony snorted with laughter, before he realized Steve was serious and did his best to compose himself. “I’m sorry, how do you not know anything about soccer? You’re…” He gestured vaguely to indicate Steve’s general physique, and Steve sighed glumly.

“Yeah, I think that was the administration’s thought too. But I grew up as a scrawny art student. I know baseball, and that’s it.”

“Huh. The more you know.”

Steve groaned. “So now I’ve got to learn all these soccer rules for tomorrow, none of which make any sense to me.” He frowned down at the manual. “And aren’t there linebackers and quarterbackers and shit?”

Tony couldn’t help laughing then, not even trying to hide it. “Steve, that’s football.”

“Yeah,” Steve replied, in his ‘duh, Tony,’ voice. “Which is soccer.”

They were still arguing about the two different kinds of football when Steve realized that he had parking lot duty. Not one to admit defeat, Tony had tagged along with him. He was once again trying to explain why American football was called football (“but it doesn’t even make sense if they barely use their feet, Tony!”) when a bright, flashy convertible had pulled into the pick-up lane. Tony caught a glimpse of Steve’s confused frown before the car pulled forward enough that he could see the driver and he went stock still, grabbing at Steve’s arm.

“Honeybear?” he yelped, loud enough that a couple of the lingering students turned their way as well. Steve gave Tony a bewildered stare but Tony hardly noticed, his eyes focused on Rhodey, leaning up until he was practically out of his seat and waving his arm at him, looking delicious in a tight white t-shirt that pulled against his biceps.

“Hey, Tones! Guess who’s back, baby!”

Tony made a noise that a lesser man might have even called a squeal, but he felt exactly zero shame about it as he took off for the car. “Bye Steve, gotta go, see you Monday!” he hollered over his shoulder as he went. He didn’t bother with the door, hopping over the side and sliding into the passenger seat. Rhodey lingered just long enough for Tony to give him an enormous kiss on the cheek before the two of them sped off.

“Uh. Bye,” Steve told them empty space beside him.

“So,” Rhodey said, yelling a little to be heard as they sped down the freeway with the top down, wind whistling through the car. “Was that your big gay crush?”

Tony choked on nothing, turning his head to face him so fast that he almost gave himself whiplash. “My what?” he repeated.

Rhodey looked over at him long enough to give him a stare. “Literally every conversation we’ve had in the past few weeks has been about him, Tones.”

“That’s not the proper use of the word literally,” Tony grumbled, and Rhodey shrugged, letting it slide.

Tony couldn’t though, milling it over in his head, and when they turned into the Italian restaurant in Bridgeport, he turned to Rhodey again.

“Okay, no, so wait. Why do you think I have a crush on Steve?”

“Tones…” Rhodey gave him a fond smile. “Come on, man, we’ve been friends for how many years now? I know what you look like when you’re crushing on someone. Even if apparently you don’t.” He gave him a pointed look, snorting when Tony just rolled his eyes at him. “You talk about him all the time. And sure, some of it is ‘complaining’ about how big and beefy he is, but a lot of it is how smart he is, and how funny, and how he’ll always call you on your shit… You don’t have to actually say the words, Tony. I can just tell.”

Tony pouted at the dashboard, mulling this over. “You’re dumb,” he decided finally, ignoring Rhodey’s snickers as he climbed out of the car. “Hurry up, asshole. I’m starving. And I don’t have a crush on Steve!”

“Alright, alright, fine,” Rhodey soothed, obviously not believing him in the slightest. “Whatever you say.”

Tony shot him a glare and didn’t hold the door for him as he headed into the restaurant. After that was the usual flurry of activity when Anna spotted them from behind the cash and hollered at Roberto to come out from the kitchen so they could make their usual fuss over the two of them. He and Rhodey had found the place by accident on a Boston to New York road trip in college, and at this point they'd been coming back for fifteen years.

With all the distractions, Tony was well into the garlic bread before another thought occurred to him. “Waiiiit,” he mumbled around a full mouth. He narrowed his eyes at Rhodey, who blinked back at him over his glass of wine. “Is that why you rented the flashy convertible? And why you used the pick-up lane? You never do that, you know it’s just supposed to be for students that time of day. Did you do that so Steve would see? Because you think I’m into him?”

Rhodey shrugged, looking smug and pleased with himself. “I already know you’re emotionally stunted, but I figured if Steve hadn’t gotten off his ass and asked you out yet, maybe there was a chance he was just as bad.”

“Or, he could just be straight,” Tony pointed out which, he realized belatedly, wasn’t exactly a denial of his crush on Steve.

Rhodey just snorted. “No man could be totally straight around you, Tones. You’re a catch,” he informed him, just to see Tony try to not look all pleased and delighted. “Anyway, I figured -- assuming he’s not straight -- that it couldn’t hurt to give him something to be a little jealous of. And he was definitely gonna be jealous of me.” Rhodey lifted his arms, flexing them so his t-shirt once more strained against his t-shirt. “If you’re a catch, then I’m Moby Dick baby.” He beamed when Tony giggled into his salad. “You need me to be your big gay wingman? I’m 100% here for you, Tones.”

Tony just shook his head, still laughing. “You’re such a dumbass,” he informed him.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too.”

The weekend had been everything Tony hadn’t realized he needed, the two of them doing all their favourite things and generally leaving a wake of chaos wherever they went. Tony loved his life, felt very fulfilled by what he did and wouldn’t trade it for anything else. But he always missed Rhodey like a limb when he wasn’t around, and having him back again, even temporarily, set something at ease in Tony’s chest.

The only problem, if he could really call it that, was that he couldn’t stop thinking about what Rhodey said about Steve. He hadn’t brought it up again, but that didn’t stop Tony from playing it over and over again, considering the previous conversations he’d had where Steve had been mentioned, with Rhodey, but with Pepper and Happy too. And, as an extension of that, how careful he was not to bring him up when he and Nat would sneak out for gelato over the lunch break, or how he didn’t join in when Bucky would start ragging on Steve in the staff room, all, “Jesus Rogers, you already look like you could stop a helicopter with your bare hands. Maybe give the gym a rest, huh?” (although Tony did have to hide his own smile at the teasing, and a couple times had caught Steve watching him with a look that one might have even described as pleased.)

And of course, thinking about all of that led to thinking about Steve himself. He was gorgeous, obviously, Tony would have to be blind not to be aware of that. But there was also how much he found himself looking forward to spending time with him, more than almost anyone else. He still hadn’t gotten tired of him, not really, not even when they argued, and he took special pride in finding ways to make Steve laugh. Steve could have been 5’2 and 96 pounds, and he would have enjoyed spending time with him just as much.

By Sunday night, when Tony found himself lost in thought again, only to realize that he’d spent the last five minutes thinking about the very specific wrinkles Steve would get in his forehead whenever he smiled, Tony had to admit defeat.

“Fuck,” he announced to his empty living room. “I’ve got a big gay crush on Steve Rogers.”

To Tony’s credit, once he’d come to a conclusion, he wasn’t the type to sit back and wallow in it. Despite leaving him only an hour later, he grabbed his phone, dialing Rhodey’s number.

“Hey Tones.” Rhodey answered on the third ring, sounding lazy and also like he was in the middle of eating something. “Miss me already?”

“Always, honeybear,” Tony responded automatically. “But also, uh… So… You may not have been so crazy after all.”

“About your big gay crush on the guidance counsellor?” Rhodey asked, because he knew Tony like nobody else. “Obviously.”

“Shut up,” Tony whined. “You know how much I hate not knowing things.” He grinned at the warm huff of laughter that came down the line at that. “So how would you feel about… Still playing the big gay wingman?”

“I’m listening…”

“Our JROTC volunteer is out for the next few weeks, some kind of family thing, and I thought, you know… You can volunteer? Take his place for a bit? And then, you know, you and I can hang out like all the time while you’re on leave, and as an extra bonus, it might make Steve jealous.”

“I mean, there’s a big difference between that, and picking you up at school in a shiny car,” Rhodey pointed out. “Sounds kinda complicated. I’d probably end up meeting him, even. You sure you don’t just want to… Tell him how you feel?”

Tony scoffed down the line. “I know you like to offer that advice for every situation, but I want you to know that the only reason that worked for you and Carol is because she thought your dumb drunk ass needed protecting. You triggered her alpha instinct, that’s all.”

“If you say so,” Rhodey told him, but Tony could already tell he was going to say yes. “Fine. But I want you to know, it’s a stupid idea, and I’m only agreeing so I have a chance to bug you while you’re trying to work.”

Tony beamed. “And that’s why you’re my favourite.”

Somewhere along the way, Steve’s (not-so) subtle ogling of Tony had turned into a full-on crush, and that had grown until Steve was pretty sure he was half in love with the man. He was doing his best to be cool about it, but he’d never met anyone quite like Tony Stark before. He found him constantly drifting into his thoughts, despite his best efforts otherwise, couldn’t seem to stop daydreaming about them being more than friends, even when he tried to tell himself that Tony was probably straight.

Or at least, he had thought that Tony was straight, right up until Friday afternoon.

Steve knew it was none of his business. He had his own life out of work, and so did Tony, and that was fine. It didn’t stop him from driving himself crazy wondering who the hell the gorgeous man who picked Tony up from school on Friday had been, and what their relationship was. The sheer joy that had been in Tony’s voice when he’d called out to him had left Steve’s heart somewhere around his knees, made worse by the so obviously affectionate and familiar nickname. He hadn’t missed the enormous cheek kiss that Tony had given him either. And sure, a kiss on the cheek didn’t necessarily scream romantic relationship, and they could just as easily be friends. But there was an ugly part of Steve that kept rearing up, insisting that he would consider himself and Tony to be friends, and he had never gotten a kiss cheek.

By Monday morning, Steve was practically itching to see Tony. Bucky, he knew, was totally sick of him after Steve had spent the entire weekend oscillating between moping and distraction, and refusing to tell him why. But the Home Ec room was right beside Tony’s classroom, so instead of going to his own office, Steve followed Bucky upstairs and then stood outside the doorway as Bucky made sure the cooking stations were prepped for the day, talking at him from the hallway. And the second he saw Tony making his way toward his classroom, looking sleepy and still a little out of it, he turned away entirely, not noticing that he was abandoning Bucky mid-sentence.

“Hey Tony!”

It went downhill from there. Tony made a strangled yelping noise, which Steve would have found adorable if not for the way everything he was holding scattered. His bag fell from his shoulder, flap opening and sending a cascade of pens and pencils and erasers flying across the floor. The cell phone he’d been texting on hit the ground with a thud that made Steve wince, and a tumbler went rolling off down the hall, leaving behind a dribbled trail of coffee leaking from the lid.

“Oh shit,” Steve said, staring horrified at the mess for a minute before he moved to help, grabbing the tumbler as it started to roll past him and getting coffee all over his hand in the process. He ignored it, moving to help gather Tony’s other things. “Shit, I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Tony reassured him, already bent over and picking things up. “I was just distracted. You startled me, is all.”

“Still,” Steve insisted, and was about to explain further but he and Tony both reached for a pen at the same time, heads cracking together. “Oh god,” Steve groaned as Tony clasped a hand to his forehead with a pained noise, cursing creatively under his breath. “I am so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.” They both straightened up, and he offered Tony a rueful smile. “I was just gonna ask how your weekend was.”

“Oh!” The pain on Tony’s face melted away entirely as he smiled soft and sweet and pleased in a way that Steve didn’t think he’d quite seen before. He tried to keep his own smile normal, but all of a sudden he couldn’t remember what a smile was supposed to feel like, or what he even normally did with his face or arms or hands. Tony didn’t seem to notice. “It was really, really great. I got to spend the entire weekend with my Rhodeybear. It was just what I needed. He’s like my other half, and I missed him like crazy. Hey!” His entire face lit up. “You should meet him sometime.”

“Right.” Steve nodded as normally as he could. “Yeah, maybe. That would be… Great. I’m glad you had a nice time, Tony,” he added, at least managing to be genuine with that. “I gotta get to work, but I’ll catch you later?” He started to head for his office, and then realized he was still holding the travel mug. “Oh right, here.”

He handed it over, taking a moment to suck away a stray drop of coffee that was sliding down the side of his index finger. Then Tony made a worrying wheezing noise and Steve stopped, staring at him. “Are you alright?”

Tony nodded just a couple more times than Steve would have classified as normal. “Yup,” he said, suddenly mumbling and not quite meeting Steve’s eyes. “Just gotta…” He trailed off and darted into his classroom without any further explanation.

“Okayyyy?” Steve said.

Tony was acting weird, there was no doubt about it. Steve had assumed that after crashing into each other, they might meet for lunch as usual, but otherwise go about their day. Instead, Tony had popped into his office no less than four times that morning, every time on official business, but with fiddly little things that could have been passed along by a student messenger, or an email. But he’d also spotted Tony outside his office several other times, sometimes lingering outside his door absorbed in something on his phone, sometimes just walking down the hall just a little too casually to be entirely normal. Steve couldn’t think of another reason for him to be in this particular hallway, but Tony would look up from his phone like he hadn’t realized this was even where he was, and a couple of times Steve had glanced up just in time to see Tony’s eyes dart away like he’d been staring at him right before. The few times they’d made full eye contact and Steve had smiled at him, Tony’s return smile had been what Steve might have called shy, if it had been coming from anyone besides Tony.

His first thought was that Tony had figured out about the crush (not an obsession, whatever Bucky said) Steve had on him, and was freaked out, and that’s what was making him act so weird. But when they met up for lunch everything seemed normal between them, and Tony certainly didn’t act like someone who was freaked out. And Steve knew Tony well enough by now that he was pretty sure if his feelings weren’t returned, Tony wouldn’t hesitate to let him know -- gently, and he’d probably be real sweet about it, but he wouldn’t let Steve drive himself crazy wondering, wouldn’t give him a chance to make a fool of himself over it.

And then he thought it might have had something to do with his company over the weekend, this Rhodey guy that Steve was absolutely not jealous of, that he was the one that had Tony all twisted up in knots. Tony had sounded smitten with him, but then again, Tony was dramatic like that. It didn’t have to mean there was anything there. And that wouldn’t have explained why he was acting so weird around Steve, who didn’t even know the guy.

Which led Steve to his next thought, the one that felt a little too fantastical to be true, even if the more he thought about it, the more it seemed to fit. Because the little smiles, the almost blushes that Tony would have… What if Steve’s feelings weren’t as one-sided as he had thought? Maybe Tony had a thing for him too, and that’s why he was acting all flustered and strange? Steve knew he was probably not the most unbiased opinion, that wanting it to be true was maybe skewing his perspective a little, making him see things a certain way. But if Tony didn’t suddenly hate him -- and he was positive that wasn’t the case -- was it so crazy to think that the little glances and smiles were a sign of something more?

He felt bolstered by the idea, unable to let it go once it was in his head. He’d never been one for letting things slide, and almost immediately he made up his mind to Talk To Tony, to maybe ask if he wanted to grab coffee after work, or a drink, and then he could tell him how he felt, see if he felt the same.

His morning flew by, distracted by daydreams of what would come next. Steve had always been a visual thinker, and he could picture all too clearly the slow smile that would spread across Tony’s cheeks when he realized his feelings weren't unrequited, the way he’d duck his head and glance up through his eyelashes (a move that always drove Steve crazy). How drinks could lead to dinner, which could lead to walking him home and -- since it was Steve’s daydream, dammit -- having Tony inviting him inside. What it would be like to finally get to kiss him, to feel his skin under his fingers with purpose, instead of just a glancing brush as they shared food or walked along beside each other?

He was still daydreaming about it when he walked into the gym right before lunchtime, intending to ask Clint another question about soccer, and stopped dead.

He had been very, very wrong.

Tony was there, for some reason, but even more confusing was the fact that this Rhodey guy was with him. Not that the why of it really mattered, Steve supposed. Tony was practically hanging off the other man’s back, crooning into his ear. As Steve watched, he pressed a big sloppy kiss to Rhodey’s cheek. “Come on, platypus,” he wheedled, delight evident in his voice. Rhodey was shaking his head and pretending to be annoyed but there was a fond, pleased smile on his face and his hand came up to hold on to Tony’s arm around his chest.

Steve may have been accused of being hopelessly optimistic, but he wasn’t naive. Whatever had had Tony acting so weird before, it obviously wasn’t a crush on Steve.

Suddenly very much needing to be anywhere else, Steve turned to try and sneak back out of the gym and promptly tripped over a stray basketball. He couldn’t help cursing as he rolled his ankle, and then winced as the sound rang out through the mostly empty space.

“Steve!” Tony looked startled at his sudden appearance, doing a weird little fidgety dance before he forced himself to still and gave him a bright smile. “Come here! You didn’t get to meet him last week, come meet my Rhodeybear!”

Steve started to mumble out some excuse about paperwork or meetings, but almost instantly Tony was across the room, grabbing him by the arm and forcibly pulling him over to Rhodey, who was very obviously trying not to laugh.

“Rhodey, this is Steve, our new guidance counselor. Steve, this is Colonel James “Rhodey” Rhodes. I talked him into volunteering with the ROTC kids while he’s on leave for the next month.”

Steve managed a smile as Rhodey reached out, shaking his hand with a firm grip. “Hey man. Good to finally meet you. Tones talks about you all the time.”

He glanced at Tony over Steve’s shoulder, and something on Tony’s face made him laugh. His eyes were sharp and perceptive and Steve felt a flare of panic because oh shit, he knew. Somehow this man had figured out that Steve had a crush on his boyfriend. And the worst part was that he didn’t seem angry. There was no threat in his handshake, his smile open and friendly.

“Uh, good to meet you too,” he managed, doing his best to smile back at him and not look like he was having a complete panic attack.

There was something so effortlessly cool about Rhodey. He was, frankly, gorgeous, with his teasing smile and ridiculously well-fitting leather jacket to boot, but he seemed genuinely nice too. He could have been a total ass, throwing it in Steve’s face that he was with Tony, but there was nothing of that in his body language. Steve couldn’t help liking him immediately, and he usually had good instincts for these things. But he also couldn’t help being intimidated and more than a little jealous -- although, for a moment he wasn’t entirely sure of which one. It was definitely Rhodey; his ridiculous crush was on Tony, so of course Rhodey was the one he was jealous of. It was maybe also a little bit Tony because fuck, Rhodey was cool.

Steve was barely aware of the conversation that followed, feeling his heart sink lower every time he caught a glimpse of the besotted smile on Tony’s face. They made small talk for a few minutes, and at least he was pretty sure that he hadn’t said anything too strange, even if he sort of felt like his own face was melting. There were vague plans made for the three of them to get together for drinks or something in the next few weeks (Steve had exactly zero intention of following through on that particular idea) and then he was finally able to make his escape. Feeling like an absolute idiot, he slipped his way down the hall and back to his own office, where he shut the door firmly behind him and slunk down in his desk chair, letting his head fall against the desk with a slight bang, whining into the empty space.

After that, Steve backed off a little, not wanting to seem like he was encroaching on their relationship. He was crazy about Tony, but he wanted him to be happy, and the two of them seemed right together. And clearly Rhodey had a good effect on Tony, because after a few more days whatever seemed to be going on with him stopped too. The manic behaviour evened out as he went back to how they’d been before, if maybe slightly more awkward than they’d once been. They still met for lunch regularly, still got along stupidly well, goofing around and joking and making each other laugh. If their lunches were slightly less often than they’d once been, well, Steve supposed that made sense when Tony’s boyfriend was right there at the school with him. He should be glad he still got lunch with Tony at all.

A few more weeks, and even that slight awkwardness had faded. They were warm and familiar around each other again, their new normal somehow less and more than it had been before. Steve still had a thing for Tony, but now it felt settled into him, like it was just a part of who he was. He didn’t want to admit it, but he thought he might have settled right into being completely in love with Tony. But he could be normal around him, because that was just part of their friendship, loving Tony just a part of who he was now. He felt right being around Tony, even if there was sometimes a bittersweet ache, and he wouldn’t trade that feeling for anything.

But every once in awhile, he’d catch Tony giving him a soft, sad smile that he was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to see, a look on his face that Steve might have described as just a little disappointed, and he couldn’t help wondering. Maybe if Tony had been single, and maybe if Steve had been just a little less scared, they might have been able to have something more between them.

Tony huffed out a sigh, having no idea what was going on in the movie he was watching with Rhodey. “Honeybear,” he said. “I think it’s time to admit defeat.”

“Tony Stark? Giving up?” Rhodey rolled his head along the back of the couch, giving Tony a slightly tipsy grin. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

“Hilarious,” Tony told him dryly, grinning despite himself. “I’m serious. I don’t think Steve is into me. I thought he was jealous at first but…” He shrugged helplessly. “And we’re friends. Like, really good friends. He’s probably the person I trust most after you. I shouldn’t try to mess with that, right?”

“I don’t think it’s messing with it, exactly,” Rhodey told him. “Starting a romantic relationship with him isn’t necessarily better or worse than being friends. It’s just... Different.” He obviously understood Tony’s point though. “You really don’t think there’s anything there?”

Tony just shrugged again, a crooked, self-deprecating smile on his lips, and Rhodey rubbed his hand over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry man,” he told him, hauling Tony against him for a hug.

“It’s okay,” Tony mumbled into Rhodey’s neck, though his arms squeezed around his waist, holding on tight for a long minute. “Really. I love having him as a friend too, and I’ll get over the whole crush thing eventually. I’ll be okay. I always am.”

Rhodey hummed, sounding like he didn’t quite believe him. “Still. Ice cream and bourbon in the meantime?”

Tony managed a real smile then, though he didn’t let go of Rhodey right away. “Definitely.”

Steve sat alone in the restaurant, fighting a smile at the sympathetic looks he kept getting from the wait staff. He was meeting his friend Sharon for dinner after she’d been overseas for the last six months on a work contract. But Sharon was notoriously bad at personal appointments, so it was hit or miss whether she’d actually turn up or if she would cancel at the last minute again. Steve wasn’t really phased, used to it by now.

He was occupying himself with games on his phone when he heard a familiar voice. He frowned at the screen, trying to place it before he looked up and made awkward eye contact with someone he’d rather avoid, and then realized it was Rhodey. Immediately he wondered if Tony was with him, and his heart beat a little faster at the thought, even though he’d just seen him a few hours ago. Looking around for them, he smiled when he spotted Rhodey’s familiar form first. And then his heart stopped beating completely for a moment.

Rhodey wasn’t with Tony.

There was a woman with him, tall and muscular with short blonde hair. She was just as gorgeous as Rhodey, the two of them an admittedly stunning pair. She was laughing too, not quite as loud, and there was a softness in her eyes as she smiled at him. Then Rhodey’s hand came up, sliding across the table to tangle his fingers with hers, the movement familiar and intimate. He leaned forward, murmuring something soft that Steve couldn’t catch, and then she was pulling back with a wide smile.

“Check please?” she hollered with absolutely no decorum, making Rhodey burst out laughing again.

Steve ducked behind his menu, watching the two of them gather up their things. He didn’t particularly want to confront Rhodey here and now, just in case he was wrong, but fortunately (or not) they only seemed to have eyes for each other. Rhodey helped her with her jacket, making the woman snort and try to elbow him, and he kept his hand very low on her back, right on the edge of being inappropriate, as they walked to the door. Steve turned away as they walked right past the table, but he looked up in time to see them pause in the foyer, mostly out of sight, before the women fisted her hands in Rhodey’s shirt and pulled him for a slow, lingering, hungry kiss. Rhodey looked downright dazed when she’d pulled back, until she said something else to make him laugh and the two of them slipped out the front door.

Steve stared at the space where they’d been for a long time after they’d gone.

“Shit.”

Sharon did end up cancelling on him, and with Bucky away on a bonding trip with some old army buddies, Steve was left alone to stew around the apartment all weekend. Normally he’d probably have gone to Tony for advice, but that obviously wasn’t an option here and Steve didn’t know what to do.

He knew he should tell Tony; he’d want to know if it were him. But then there was the question of if he’d want Steve to be the one to tell him -- or, for that matter, if Steve wanted to be the one to tell him, which he definitely didn’t. If Tony had figured out about Steve’s crush on him, would he even believe him? He honestly didn’t know what he would do if Tony thought he was making it up to get between him and his boyfriend. He’d like to think Tony knew him better than that, but people could get weird about their significant others.

By Monday morning, Steve still had no idea what he was going to do. He had barely slept all weekend and was tired and miserable, found himself taking the long way round to his office to avoid the chance of running into Tony in the staff room.

“Wow, Rogers. You look terrible.”

Lost in thought, Steve nearly jumped at the sound of Nat’s voice. He looked up to see her sitting in her classroom, grading papers and watching him with an amused look on her face.

“Yeah,” he rubbed at the back of his neck absently. “I just didn’t sleep well.”

Some of the amusement slid off her face and she arched an eyebrow at him. “You okay?”

Steve shrugged. ”Just… Life,” he offered vaguely. Then he blinked at her, eyes going wide. “You can help me though! I… I need you to talk to Tony for me. It’s kind of a big thing. Please, Nat? I don’t know what else to do. I don’t… I’m worried he’ll hate me if I tell him, or won’t believe me, or both. But it won’t seem so… personal coming from you. Blunt honesty is your whole thing, right? Plus he’s more likely to believe you when he’s already half terrified of you anyway.”

Nat was back to looking amused, trying to follow Steve’s rambling. “And why is Tony half terrified of me?”

Steve winced. “Uh… There’s a rumor going around that you’re secretly a Russian sleeper agent?”

“The Cold War ended in 1991,” she told him without missing a beat, voice eerily atonal. “Russia and America are allies now.”

There was a moment of absolute silence before she cracked up and Steve glared at her.

“That. That is exactly why people are scared of you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she told him airily, before relenting with a sigh. “Okay, so what is it that you need me to tell Tony?”

“I… Rhodey’s cheating on him,” he blurted out all in a rush, before he could chicken out. “I saw him at dinner on Friday with this gorgeous woman, and they were very clearly together, kissing and everything, and I just… I don’t know how to tell him.

Nat stared at him, blinked twice, and then burst out laughing. Steve frowned at her, taken aback, but as Natasha kept on laughing, to the point that there were actual tears coming from her eyes, Steve got more and more cranky. Folding his arms across his chest, his frown turned into a full on glare as he waited for her to get control of herself.

“Are you done?” he asked when she finally stopped laughing what felt like five minutes later. “Cause I’d really like to know what’s so funny about all of this.”

But Natasha just shook her head, still grinning. “Let me know when you figure it out, Steve.”

By the end of the day, Steve had successfully managed to avoid Tony, and he was exhausted. He knew he couldn’t keep this up forever, and he didn’t particularly want to. He’d missed Tony today. Even on the days when they didn’t get to spend time together, there was always a smile and wave when they passed each other in the hall. This just felt weird.

Going the long way again, he made his way to Bucky’s classroom, hovering in the doorway as he watched Bucky put away the last of the materials they’d been using.

“Hey Buck?” he said after a minute.

Bucky looked up, frowning at the look on Steve’s face. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”

Steve ignored that. “Remember, when we were kids, and I grabbed you before you fell off the fire escape showing off for Jenny Calloway? And you said you owed me your first born? I’m cashing in. I need you to do something for me, no questions. And if you laugh at me, I’m gonna punch you so hard your grandkids’ teeth’ll hurt.”

“Well that seems unnecessary,” Bucky drawled, leaning back against one of the work stations. “You know I’d do it if you just said please. Seriously, Stevie, you look like you’re about to pass out. What’s up?”

“Rhodey is cheating on Tony. I saw him with someone, and… They were definitely together. Can you just like… Let it slip? I’m afraid if I tell him he’ll think I’m lying, because --,”

“You’re desperately in love with him?” he asked, lips quirking up.

“Buck!” Steve looked around like Tony was suddenly going to pop out of the corner of the classroom and call him out on it. “Come on, this is serious. Don’t fucking laugh at me!”

Bucky held his hands up in surrender, and was quiet for a minute, chewing on the inside of his cheek like he was still fighting back a smile. “Right, okay,” he said, pushing off the desk and striding into the hallway. Steve’s eyes went wide.

“No, shit, wait,” he hissed. “I didn’t mean right now!” He started to follow Bucky down the hall, then stopped after a few feet because Bucky had already reached Tony’s classroom, and he didn't think he wanted to be here for this. But while Steve was debating if he could make it to the stairs before Bucky said something, Bucky knocked sharply on the side of the doorframe.

“Hey! Stevie thinks you’re dating Rhodes,” he announced, before wandering off down the hall. Steve stared after him because what the fuck, that wasn’t what he’d told him to say, and where was he even going?

Before he had a chance to process, there was a crash from Tony’s classroom and then faintly, the sound of his voice. “Did he just…?” He sounded strangled, and then he was skidding into the hallway, hair standing up about five inches from his head and eyes wild.

“Um, hi,” he said. Steve could practically see his chest heaving from here.

“Hi,” Steve said back a little stupidly.

“I’m not dating Rhodey,” Tony burst out, staring at Steve with wide eyes like he couldn’t look away. “Never have been. Well, we had an almost thing in university, but -- that’s not the point. Rhodey and I aren’t together.” He gaze shifted, looking at Steve imploringly. His tongue flicked out over his lips, and Steve swallowed hard.

“I just…” He took a couple tentative steps toward Tony. “He showed up, and you were all over him, and you had about five million nicknames for him and so… I figured…”

“Nope,” Tony said quickly. “We’re just… Like that. Rhodey is very firmly in love with somebody else. We, uh… I was helping him shop for engagement rings last week.” He took a deep breath and closed the remaining distance between them, eyes somewhere around Steve’s collarbone. “Listen, Rogers. I know Carol looks like a lesbian, but so does Clint with the wrong glasses and a slim-cut pant, so please reconsider your personal biases and trust me. It's her and Rhodey. And it's.... it's you and me. Right?"

Steve could feel the ridiculous smile splitting his cheeks. “Yeah?” he asked, a little breathless.

“I mean…” Tony looked up at him through ridiculously long eyelashes. “I’d like it to be?”

There were a million and one things that Steve could say in response to that, but he couldn’t think of a single one. Instead, he curled his hand around the back of Tony’s neck, dipping his head to kiss him softly. Tony made a soft, whimpery noise, hands coming up to clutch at the front of Steve’s shirt. He couldn’t resist deepening the kiss, letting his tongue tease against the seam of Tony’s lips for a minute before he pulled back again, just a little.

“I thought… You were acting so weird. I thought you’d figured out I had a crush on you and, you know. Didn’t know how to turn me down.”

Tony made a pained noise, and then started laughing, pressing his face into Steve’s chest. His entire body was shaking with it, and Steve couldn’t help grinning as he wrapped his hands around Tony’s back.

“I was acting weird because I had a thing for you. I figured you couldn’t possibly be interested because otherwise, why wouldn’t you have made a move? I was laying it on way too strong. I’ve never been the best at processing stuff like that. I get a little… manic.”

Steve wanted to kick his own ass, but it was hard to be upset when he finally, finally had his arms full of Tony. “Really?” he teased instead. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Tony bit his pec in retaliation — it was right there, how was he supposed to resist? — sending a full-body shudder through Steve. There wasn’t much for him to do after that but pull Tony up into another kiss, and then another, until they were making out lazily right there in the hallway.

They might have kept going forever, if they hadn’t been interrupted by a very pointed throat clearing.

“Okay, seriously guys?” Bucky protested. “I’ve been killing time with Nat for the past half hour. Can’t you do that in one of your own classrooms? Or better yet, a goddamn bedroom? Preferably not in our shared apartment,” he added with a glare at Steve.

Steve could feel his cheeks heating, but he didn’t really feel embarrassed, especially not with the smirk Tony was leveling at him. Steve shivered again, and his smirk grew wider.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony said, tossing a look at Bucky over his shoulder. “We’re going. Don’t get your ponytail in a knot.” Then he caught Steve’s hand. “Can I uh… can I buy you dinner? I know a great Italian place. Not too fancy, cozy… intimate.”

Steve’s face hurt from smiling so hard. “Sounds like a date,” he said, getting a goofy little delighted giggle out of Tony.

“You know,” Tony said as they headed for the parking lot, fingers entwined. “You don’t have to be jealous of Rhodey’s nicknames. I can give you a nickname.”

Steve snorted. “I’ve heard some of Rhodey’s nicknames. I think I’m okay.”

Tony stuck his tongue out at him, softening it by standing on tiptoe to give him another quick kiss. “Oh, what about Cap? You know, like Captain America? In the old comic books? You kind of look like him, all big and blond and buff and like you could single-handedly take down a Nazi base and rescue the damsel in distress. The damsel in distress being me, obviously.”

Steve just laughed, shaking his head and happier than he’d ever been. “Tony, that is the dumbest thing I've ever heard.”

@tonystarkbingo

#tonystarkbingo2020 #tsb2020 #stony #steve rogers #tony stark #teacher au #mutual pining #get together #james rhodes #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #background carol/rhodey #fic #my fic

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tinylilemrys · 5 years

Text

Merlin 3x11 “The Sorcerer’s Shadow” Highlights

Omg, it’s Dudley

Do you think Harry Melling was determined to play a character with magic after all those years of not being a magical character in the Harry Potter series?

God I still adore this theme tune. I hardly ever skip the intro because I love it so much

Arthur being all “chill, Merlin, there’s nothing to worry about – it’s just a tournament where there are no rules” while watching dudes slice the heads off of practice dummies and having axes just barely miss his head is 100% peak Prince Dumbass. Bless

Imagine showing up to a bed and breakfast and they’re like “you can stay here, but you need to room with someone else”. We have it so good in the 21st century

I say this all the time, but Colin is such an amazing actor. When those two skeevy dudes start harassing Merlin and ordering him to clean their boots, the fear and disgust on his face is palpable

Like, Merlin’s obviously powerful enough to kill both of them with minimal effort, but he can’t protect himself that way in this scenario, so watching him navigate the situation without that to back him up is so tense and uncomfortable

Colin Morgan is a gift to this world y’all

I wonder how lonely Merlin is at times. He seems to latch onto new friends whenever he has the opportunity to make them. Gilli saves his life and Merlin’s immediately in protective best friend mode

Morgana is so good at manipulation. She’s just there planting all the seeds she knows will make Uther want to compete in the crazy death tournament. She’s such a great villain

That trumpet fanfare. You know the one

Merlin and Gaius immediately being all raised eyebrows when Gilli wins his fight

CSI: Camelot – now with added Gaius

In this episode, Merlin actually goes to the tavern

The magic as homosexuality metaphor is strong in this episode. Gilli’s whole thing about how his dad was too scared to ever use his magic, but how Gilli wants to be proud of who he is, and Merlin’s agreement with him but fear for his safety in a mentor kind of way… it’s all there

Look, I know it’s only a few more episodes until Uther dies, but I can’t help but sit here during all of his fights just waiting for someone to fatally stab him

Gilli’s conflicted feelings about killing the guy who was tormenting him his heartbreaking. I 100% understand that feeling of wanting to hurt those people who make your life a living hell, but I know for sure I would feel guilty af afterwards

So Gilli gets a hero’s welcome when he gets back to the tavern, but since innkeeper said earlier in the episode that only people competing in the tournament could stay there, aren’t they all in the tournament too? Aren’t these his opponents? Did they all just hate the asshole dude that Gilli killed as much as he did?

Arthur’s almost physical pain at the idea of losing a fight to his dad

Arthur: “Do you have any idea how it feels to live with a man who constantly thinks he’s the best?” – Merlin: “Mmm, must be irritating.”

Fuck I love Anthony Head’s voice

I’d listen to him reading a grocery list I swear

Morgana’s shit-eating grin as she watches the two most proud and stubborn men she knows beating the shit out each other with the potential to fatally wound is amazing

I like that Merlin has learned to stop listening to Gaius when he warns Merlin against talking to baby sorcerers about their magic because Gaius’ bad advice was largely to blame for the Morgana situation we now find ourselves in

Okay so this scene in Gilli’s room in the inn, where Merlin reveals his magic to Gilli and they’re both overcome with emotion at realising that they’re not alone is so powerful, but like, then they both start yelling about magic at the top of their lungs and I’m just wondering how thick these walls actually are? Doesn’t sound travel super well through wood? Do they know that there are dozens of people they don’t know in the building? What’s the plan if they’re confronted?

Merlin’s eyes flicker down for the shortest of seconds when Gilli accuses him of forgetting who he is, even as he tries to deny it, conveying his doubt with the tiniest of eye movements

Like fuck, Colin Morgan is fucking fantastic actor

(I’m saying that a lot because it’s true)

“OOOOOOOO DRAGOOOOON…”

The one time where Kilgharrah is all “hmm, maybe let’s save the king” and Merlin is all “do we have to?”

“Some choices are easy, some stay with you forever.” SMASH CUT TO THE MERLIN FINALE WHERE WE SEE AN OLD AND TIME-WEARY MERLIN LIVING WITH HIS CHOICES. THE FEELS MAN

Merlin is the fucking ice man when he’s determined to save someone. The absolute frigid glare he gives Gilli while fucking with his plan to kill Uther is everything

Please do yourself a favour and just watch the extras whenever the crowd is cheering. Some of their reactions are hilarious

The farewell scene between Gilli and Merlin is so sweet and hopeful. It’s a shame we never see him again

Uther has a rare moment of decent parenting towards Arthur and I love Morgana’s seething rage at the exchange

Every time Gaius tells Merlin he’s proud of him, I gain a year of life

NEXT EPISODE IS WHERE WE START GATHERING OUR FAVOURITE KNIGHT SQUAD Y’ALL ♥

< 3x10 | 3x12 >

#merlin highlights #bbc merlin #merlin rewatch #merlin 3x11 #the sorcerer's shadow #I'm so excited for the next two episodes #they might honestly be my favourite in the whole series

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professor-spacecakes · 6 years

Note

3: Ever had a terrible breakup?

I’ve never been in a proper romantic relationship, so none in that sense. I’ve had a really terrible friend break-up though. It’s a long story, so I’ll put it under Read More.

They’d approached me as a fan of one of my fanfictions and we ended up playing Overwatch together nearly every night. We got to be fast friends, and they even helped me start taking commissions for the first time, since they were an artist themselves.

Things were going okay for a while. They opened up to me and I tried my best to open up to them. They claimed to have a number of mental issues and I tried my best to be as supportive as humanly possible. I changed how I spoke for them, omitted certain words and even entire subjects from my vocabulary. I dropped everything and talked to them whenever they asked me to.

Unfortunately, they didn’t seem to afford me the same consideration. It started to unravel after I started streaming our Overwatch games for a while. We garnered a small following and decided to open up a Discord server for the fans. This friend of mine made it, since I barely knew how to use Discord at the time. After a little while, this friend grew uncomfortable with the discussions on the server and, without warning to anyone, just deleted it one night while I was asleep.

In the morning I found out about it from a post they’d made on tumblr that simply said they wouldn’t be joining in the streams anymore. I messaged them to ask what was wrong, and they said they decided dropping out of the streams was for their mental health and that they nuked the server. I remained calm, said it was okay, and merely stated that I would have liked for them to talk to me about it beforehand. They said “Why? This has nothing to do with you,” and I was just like… It kinda has everything to do with me? It was strange, since they had a habit of practically asking permission to do things when it had absolutely nothing to do with me. Honestly, looking back at it now, them saying that was probably a back-handed jab at me for saying they don’t need to consult with me on every little thing.

Anyway, that discussion sort of devolved into an argument. I said I was a little upset by what they’d done, because they always said I should let them know when they’ve done or said something to upset them, since they’d done that to me countless times. I’d always apologize profusely and promise never to do the thing again. This was the first time I’d gathered the courage to very calmly and politely raise my own concerns. Their response? “I’m sorry you feel that way.” This upset me even more, because it felt like they were putting the blame on me for being upset. I tried to explain this to them, again very calmly and politely, but they just started crying and said they don’t understand. I tried for hours to explain myself, because I was determined to actually stand up for myself for once and not to wimp out and bow my head like usual, but they were incapable of seeing someone else’s perspective on anything.

At this point, I didn’t know what to do. I asked a mutual friend of ours for advice, and they suggested we get into a group call together. It ended up with both of them ganging up on me, because of course I’m the mean one for making the one friend cry, even though they turn on the water works for everything. I mean literally everything. Then they tried to use the excuse that they were saying that to make me angry, thinking that I wouldn’t be sad anymore if I was mad for a second, because that’s apparently how they worked. I explained that’s not at all how I worked, and they were just like “oops lol” and went back to talking like nothing ever happened and never apologizing, despite the fact that I was still upset.

Rather than stream without them, because I knew playing Overwatch without them would upset them despite them being the one that didn’t want to do it anymore, I just quit streaming altogether to devote all of my game time to them.

Things kinda started to unravel after that. I once shared a video of a comedian whom I wasn’t aware they happened to despise, and even though I profusely apologized and promised not to share his videos with them anymore, they continued to hold that up as a counter every time they shared something with me that I didn’t care for, like watching that one video was the equivalent of donating a kidney to me and I owed it to them to watch and discuss stuff I didn’t like.

My depression got super bad in the months that followed, to the point where I could barely muster the energy to think. This friend kept messaging me everyday, and I really tried my best to reply to them as best I could, but all I could manage most of the time were one or two word responses. My brain was mush and I just felt so empty of everything. They kept hassling me to tell them what was wrong, and I did. I told them that I was in a bad spot with my depression and that I felt hollow. They just said they didn’t understand and, after the first thing they tried to do to cheer me up didn’t magically work, they got upset at me. I asked them what they wanted from me, and they said I wasn’t being “cheery” enough about my depression. “Gosh golly, [REDACTED], I’m just so darn depressed! Let’s just keep talking about things we like as though nothing’s wrong!” They literally wanted me to act that way. That’s what they said to me.

After that, I tried to adjust my sleep to stop staying up all night, and because of that I started missing our game sessions for a time. They assumed I was avoiding them. I wasn’t, I was genuinely sleeping. Then, any time I posted about anything in a negative light, they automatically assumed I was vagueing about them. I wasn’t, and despite telling them I wasn’t they started blatantly vagueing about me. I didn’t bother bringing it up. I knew I wouldn’t win that argument, and I didn’t have the energy for it.

Finally, again without any warning, I woke up one day to find that they’d unfriended and blocked me on all platforms, and created a new discord group for our Overwatch crew, only without me there. Despite all they’d done to that point, I wasn’t ready for our friendship to just be over like that. It sent my depression into full on suicidal mode. I made a few vaguely suicidal posts here on tumblr, and thankfully a lot of my followers jumped on that and sent me countless messages of support. They managed to calm me down before I did something stupid. You guys know who you are if you’ve stuck around since then. I legitimately owe you guys my life.

Unfortunately, and I know it was well-meaning, one of my followers that knew I was good friends with this person (but didn’t know they were the cause of me being so upset) contacted them and told them what was going on. So this person called me. On the phone. I’d like to emphasize this, because I don’t give my number to fucking anyone, but they’d pressured it out of me one day.

Anyway, they started off asking if my ringtone (”You Got The Touch” from the 80′s Transformers movie at the time) played when they called. I said it did and they said that made them happy. They then went on to talk about how they got complimented for a tote bag that I had sent them for Christmas, saying they thought that’d make me happy because I got it for them. I’d literally just recovered from a complete mental breakdown barely an hour before, so I was so completely exhausted that I could barely mumble out one-word responses.

So then they launch into this whole story about how they were suicidal before, except they were really gonna do it (implying I was just doing it for attention) but they randomly got a phone call from someone they never talk to that was also suicidal and that made them stop. Then they kinda sat there expecting me to thank them for being that person for me, but they weren’t, and it’s against my personal code of honor to lie to someone, even if it’s paying false compliments.

So then they started yelling at me, saying I was mean and selfish and an asshole and a genuinely bad person, ranting at me without letting me get a word in. Then they yelled at me for not getting angry. Then they they went back to trying to talk to me like nothing happened. I was too drained to say much, but I was still trying to cling to the friendship despite all that had happened, and tried to continue talking to them, afraid they’d never talk to me again if I hung up. Eventually I gave up and we ended the call and I went to bed.

In the morning I was a lot calmer and able to think more clearly. I sent a message to this person (having convinced them to unblock me the night before) and stated that we were clearly just people with personalities that naturally clashed, and that I didn’t expect them to try to be friends anymore. I was much more polite than I should have been.

I seethed internally for more than a year after that, the hate and rage and sadness for this former friend boiling endlessly inside me. There was literally not a day during that year that I didn’t think of them, and it was almost never in a kind way. I still get upset just thinking of them, and things I used to associate with them have sort of become triggers for me. I quit art for a year because they were an artist and I wanted to distance myself from them as much as possible. I avoid Transformers, a fandom I’d gotten them into to the point of them obsessing over it, particularly Rodimus. RoadRat now has an underlying bitterness to it. I flinch whenever I hear or read things they used to say constantly, like “heckin” or “blease” or using question marks in the middle of sentences that aren’t questions, or loud declarations of one’s homosexuality when they see something they like or are attracted to; unfortunate, as these are still quite common in today’s internet slang. I have a paranoid panic attack whenever I see anyone online with the word “Scrub” in their username. I’m automatically wary of anyone who has the same mental illness(es) as them because they always used that as an excuse for everything they did to me. I feel especially guilty about that one, but I can’t help it. They were sex-obsessed, so I’ve become repulsed by anyone talking to me or about me in a sexual manner. I automatically keep fans that approach me and try to become friends with me at arm’s length, because that’s how they came into my life. Because of that, I can count all of the friends I have on just one hand.

So yeah, that’s the story.

#tw suicide #Anonymous

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mormonhoneypot · 6 years

Note

I was once a die hard Member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, but as I got older it only caused self hatred because I knew I was gay. I used to self harm because I hated that I wasn't attracted to men. As soon as I realized the church wasnt true I felt like I could finally live my life. Why should the church condemn homosexuality? Why is it a sin to embrace your absolutely natural sexuality?

Let’s cut to the chase and just look at your last question first, shall we?

Would you consider it a good idea for someone to embrace their absolutely natural sexuality if that sexuality involved young children, violence, or other abhorrent acts? I would hope not. What about pansexuals? I mean, I get the loving more than one person and wanting an open relationship, but I believe we have been warned against those types of relationship for a reason.

More to the point:

For the natural man is an enemy to God, and has been from the fall of Adam, and will be, forever and ever, unless he yields to the enticings of the Holy Spirit, and putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord, and becometh as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father.

and

But the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned.

and

And now behold, my brethren, what natural man is there that knoweth these things? I say unto you, there is none that knoweth these things, save it be the penitent.

Finally:

… as I got older it only caused self hatred … I used to self harm because I hated …

If you look back at the scriptures cited, there was never an expectation for any hatred from or to anyone, especially yourself.

Remember this verse?

Thou shalt not avenge, nor bear any grudge against the children of thy people, but thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself: I am the Lord.

I’m pretty sure that doesn’t mean you should find someone else that sins and harm them like you harmed yourself. You probably shouldn’t avenge or bear a grudge against yourself.

We all have things to work on, and they are all of our natural tendencies—sexual or otherwise.

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thestoryweneededtowrite · 6 years

Text

Second Star To The Right - Part 1

An AU where all the Newsies work at Disneyworld, and Jack does something stupid (a couple of stupid things, actually).

Disney-related phrases that might come up:

Cast members = the name given to pretty much all Disney park employees

Utilidors = a series of tunnels that run under Disneyworld so, among other things, cast members can get from one place to another without crossing guest areas of the park

Being ‘friends with’ or ‘hanging out with’ a character = playing them in the parks, so phrased as to maintain the Disney magic

Onstage = Any guest area of the park is considered onstage, with backstage being employee only areas

Character attendant = a cast member who accompanies a character so they can make sure that character is safe, as well as answering questions characters can’t and speaking oh behalf fur characters

Fur characters = Any costume that involves a full suit where the face is not seen (e.g. Donald Duck, Mickey Mouse, Baymax, etc.) Fur doesn’t have to be involved.

Jack liked his job. He never had to worry about what he was going to wear to work, with someone handing him a freshly laundered costume each morning, and he got to be enthusiastic in a borderline-arrogant way and get paid for it. He loved his co-workers and he got to create magic for Disney guests every moment of the day. It made it easy to get out of bed.

Step one of his day was always, without fail, to kiss his boyfriend good morning. Davey tended to wake up first and bring him coffee, and affection and caffeine were two of his favourite things.

They’d met at work and, after Jack had endlessly persuaded Davey into a date for approximately three months, they’d finally gone out. Now, a year later, he had his very own Prince Charming to curl up with after work and kiss quickly when they passed each other in the utilidors. Davey complained playfully about finding it weird to kiss the boy who never grew up, but he gave as many kisses as he got.

People knew they were dating. The hardcore Disney fans that were at the parks almost as much as the cast members had somehow found out his name and followed him on Instagram, and he didn’t shy away from his affection for the love of his life on social media, happy to post photos of himself kissing Davey’s cheek or a close up of their interlocked hands. Those same diehard fans had quickly identified his boyfriend as a ‘friend of Prince Charming’ from the parks. Based on the comments on Jack’s Instagram posts, they thought they were an adorable couple. Jack had to agree, Davey was adorable.

It was impossible for his days to be repetitive, considering the different guests he met. Once he was suitably costumed, wigged, and made-up, he set off through the tunnels to Fantasyland to meet up with his character attendant. It was Rafaela for this shift, who looked happy to see him until she frowned at the state of his hair, fluffing up the wig and brushing it out of his eyes.

“Will you never learn,” she tutted.

“Like Peter cares about his hair,” he laughed, but he readjusted his fringe so it sat a little better. All Peters were meant to look the same, after all.

Sometimes he had a Wendy to do meet and greets with, but for this shift he was alone and he didn’t mind it terribly much. He didn’t have to worry about maintaining a rapport with someone else. Taking a moment to sink into his Peter persona, he put on a grin and leapt out on stage to gasps and a little applause from kids who believed he really was Peter Pan. That was his favourite part of his job, bringing joy to children who still believed in magic and flying and the power of pixie dust. It made him believe a little too.

The reality of being a Disney character was sticky hugs from toddlers who’d had too much candy floss and pushy, self-righteous mothers who ordered their kids about. But even the Florida heat was counteracted by the smiles of children who ran up for a hug and tentatively handed over something for him to sign. He’d invite some of them to Neverland, ask other what happy thought they’d use for pixie dust to make them fly, warned more still to watch out for Hook and his pirates. Little girls in princess dresses were greeted with ‘Your Majesty’ and a flourished bow. Boys in pirate costumes were treated with mock suspicion, and asked if they were working for Hook. Every smile he caused made his day.

Twenty minutes into his shift, he looked up from the previous child to find his next family was a prim and proper mother, preoccupied by her phone, and a young teenage girl fiddling with something in her pocket before pulling out a badge and pinning it to her jacket as she walked up.

“I saw something on tumblr,” she said quietly, before he could get a word out. Jack froze for a split second, before forcing a confused expression onto his face. He caught Rafaela twitching in a similar way beside him out the corner of his eye. Peter wasn’t supposed to know about social media or the internet or computers, and he definitely wasn’t meant to let Peter slip and interact with guests as himself. So he kept character.

“Tumbler? Like an acrobat?” he asked. “I’m pretty good at backflips in the air when I’m flying. I’ve been teaching Wendy.”

Rafaela sighed a little in relief, but the girl in front of him shook her head. She clearly had a topic of conversation in mind and she wasn’t going to be led away from it.

“Is it true you’re gay?” she asked.

Oh. Right. That.

Even before people had discovered his social media and found out quite how queer he was, it had still been obvious he wasn’t straight. He would compliment people on their rainbow apparel and tell them he and the lost boys sported similar patterns in Neverland, pieced together from the colourful flowers in the rainforest. When same-sex couples came to see Peter he would curtsey to the women and greet them as them ‘Princess and Princess’, and tell the men how lucky they were that they’d found their Prince Charming. He’d blown kisses to attractive men in the parades before, because it seemed like the kind of thing Peter would do. But usually he didn’t address his comments to kids, even teenagers, because that seemed like a good way to get complaints from idiotic parents. But everything he did do usually found its way onto a tumblr masterpost, the one he was pretty sure this girl was referencing, on a fan’s blog.

He finally registered the badge – a cute little rainbow button with a spiral of text reading ‘love is love is love’ into the centre – that the girl had pinned to her jacket, and she was sending worried glances to her mother every now and then as if this conversation wasn’t meant to be overheard. Clearly she needed some reassurance; she couldn’t be more than thirteen. He wanted to tell her that he was gay and all about his Prince, and that she would find a beautiful Princess someday, but it was a bad idea. But he couldn’t say nothing.

“In Neverland, none of that matters. If you’re happy, then that’s enough,” he promised. He gestured to her badge. “Love is love.”

The girl smiled and nodded, hugging him quickly and handing her phone to Rafaela, who was shooting stern glances at Jack, so she could take a photo of the two of them.

Jack patted the girl’s shoulder as she walked away, with far more of a spring in her step than she’d had before. The snooty mother glanced up from a text, barely sparing her daughter more than a second until she did a double take when she registered the colourful new addition to her jacket.

“Ramona. Take that badge off. Now,” she snapped, finally putting her phone away.

Jack frowned, but he couldn’t get involved. Rafaela would kill him. Instead he turned to a young boy, barely old enough to walk, toddling towards him with the help of his father.

“Peter said it was okay,” Ramona argued, crossing her arms.

Jack flinched. That wasn’t ideal. Still, he needed to stay out of it. Crouching down, he shook the hand of the confused little boy who absolutely had no idea what was going on, and asked him if he knew Michael Darling.

“He said what?” the woman gasped.

Jack could hear the disgust in her raised voice. He knew what was coming before he even turned around, so he stood up to face the oncoming storm.

“Excuse me, I will not have you spouting homosexual propaganda to my daughter. I do not expect that kind of perversion from a family company,” she shrieked.

Rafaela was too stunned to step in, but Jack was happy to fight this battle alone. Ramona looked close to tears and he couldn’t have that. The toddler he’d been interacting with was whisked away from the dispute quickly, so Jack could turn his full attention to this woman. He sunk into Peter’s persona even more, knowing this would get too personal if he didn’t, and put his hands on his hips. “With all due respect, madam, and this isn’t something I say often, but I’m going to have to request that you grow up,” he said simply. He knew Disney was scared of representing gay characters, but he had to stand up for himself and for Ramona and for everyone else who wasn’t straight.

There was a chorus of ‘oooh’s from the older kids waiting in line and Jack really badly wanted to grin, but that would likely make things worse.

“Excuse me?!” the mother squawked. She turned to an overwhelmed Rafaela. “I need to speak to your manager. Immediately.”

She was clearly seething and Jack knew this was going to end badly for his career, but Ramona looked delighted with his forthrightness and he couldn’t quite bring himself to regret it. Rafaela was far less delighted, turning to the guests waiting, half of whom now had their phones out recording the confrontation, and managed some announcement about Peter having to go to back to Neverland in a hurry and practically dragged Jack backstage as she promised Ramona’s mother she’d be back immediately with a senior member of staff.

“What the fuck?!” she hissed as soon as they were out of earshot of the crowd.

‘I’m sorry,” Jack sighed. “I just… I couldn’t say nothing.”

He knew he’d fucked up, but there wasn’t a lot he could do about it now. The repercussions for what he’d done would most certainly be harsh, but he still couldn’t manage to regret it.

Part Two

#newsies #newsies fanfiction #javid #Jack/Davey #Jack Kelly #davey jacobs #would you look at that #I'm not dead #SSTTR #Spot and Race and Kath and Sarah et. al will all be in this in later chapters

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hiswordsarekisses · 3 years

Text

CHRISTIAN SCAPEGOATS by Lynette Hughes:

Writing in about A.D. 196, Tertullian said, “The Christians are to blame for every public disaster and every misfortune that befalls the people. If the Tiber rises to the walls, if the Nile fails to rise and flood the fields, if the sky withholds its rain, if there is earthquake or famine or plague, straightway the cry arises: ‘The Christians to the lions!'”

Not much has changed for believers; anti-Christian bias continues to scapegoat Christians. Attempts at saving the lives of innocent unborn children are portrayed as attempts to make life difficult for women in crisis. We are vilified and branded Islamophobic for saying Christians and Muslim do not worship the same God and that eternal life comes only through faith in Jesus Christ. When we express our biblical beliefs on marriage and homosexuality, the LGBT rush to blame us for instigating a “climate of hate."

Barak Obama angered small-town America with his ‘they cling to guns and religion’ remark, and we continue to be bombarded with absurd accusations of being ‘deplorables,’ ‘racists,’ ‘right-wing extremists’ and ‘domestic terrorists’ by the angry, vocal elites of the Democratic party and intellectually dishonest MSM. They don’t just disagree with us, they hate us with a seething rage because we refuse to bow to their idols, praise their false gods, and subscribe to their conscienceless rejection of sound moral absolutes.

The anti-Christian hostility and scapegoating in this nation continues to escalate. We must not deceive ourselves about the cultural climate in our country with its rising left wing liberal socialism that seek the destruction of Christianity. With the growing hatred of all things Christian, we are being set up to be persecuted as the Jews were during the reign of Hitler. Where we have previously been met with indifference, we are now facing unprecedented levels of persecution as anti-Christian sentiments intensify.

The day is fast approaching where even the most half-hearted, semi-committed, lukewarm, indifferent ‘believer’ will no longer be able to avoid taking a decisive stand for or against the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ. Those who are presently spiritually fence-sitting and offering up lip service, while sucking up all the immoral views of the ungodly, will soon enough meet the enemy head on. When neutrality and indecision is no longer an option, and you will no longer be able to hide your faith, will you instead loudly claim to be an atheist? When you are forced to get off the fence and decide who you will follow, will you follow God or the enemies of God?

Soon every professed Christian will face their own crisis of faith as they encounter intense pressure to conform to the anti-Christ agenda of a New World Order and decide if they want to be identified as a true disciple of Christ Jesus or not. The days ahead for American Christianity looks increasingly ominous. To think overwise is to be willfully blind.

In Matthew 5:10-12, Jesus said, “Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness’ sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you.”

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writeyourownname · 7 years

Text

Prompts 5 and 21

Thor x Reader

Prompts #5 “Where do you think you’re going?” “Uh, my pole dancing lessons?” and #21 “I’ll throw hands with this bitch, fucking watch me!”

Word count: 1465

Warnings: Cussing

Dressed in a snug but stretchy pair of pants and a tank top, you made your way out of your room with a bag slung over your shoulder. You were uninterrupted until you got to the floor below yours, where the elevator stopped. Clint walked in and gave you a once-over, raising a brow at your appearance. He stood next to you and you both watched the doors close.

“Going to the gym?” He asked without turning to you.

“Dance lessons,” You didn’t miss a beat with your answer. It would be kind of embarrassing if everyone knew you were actually going to pole dancing lessons, because they likely wouldn’t take your answer of “I want a strong core and more flexibility” as an answer.

“Didn’t know you could dance,” Amusement lilted his tone.

“I can’t, that’s why I’m taking lessons,”

He huffed a laugh in response. The elevator opened and Clint made his exit. You were thankful, you didn’t want to go into any further detail.

“Have fun,” He winked.

You made it to the ground level without any further incident and thanked your lucky stars. You started towards the front entrance, looking like a teenager sneaking out in the middle of the night.

“Where do you think you’re going?” A voice boomed from your left.

You jumped in your skin and became completely still. “Uh, my pole dancing lessons?”

You winced. Shit, I gave myself away.

“Pole dancing?” Thor came into your view with a curious expression.

“Haha, uhhh yeah... Don’t tell anyone about it though, please?” He frowned at the rushed urgency of your sentence.

“Why, what is this type of dance?”

You paused; trying to find a way to explain it in the least painful way possible. “Well, it’s where people.. dance around a pole. You have to be really strong to do it. I wanted to test myself, you see.”

“Oh, that sounds delightful! May I join you my lady?” Eagerness plastered his face.

You shook your head vehemently. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh, why not?”

“I - um. You have to sign up.. for the class. And it’s mostly women and homosexuals in there.”

“I have nothing against homosexuals. I often find myself attracted to the smaller ones.”

You laughed. “Nobody here has anything against gay people, Thor. Gosh, I love you. No, you just have to sign up for it and I know a few women and men there are fans of you, and I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable!”

You didn’t want to let him find someone and have them take away any chance you had with him, actually.

“You are such a great friend, Y/n. Your concern warms me. Do you think I could come watch, then?”

You choked on air.

“Uh, maybe when we do our performance. Practices aren’t really.. public.”

He clapped his hands together. “I am Thor, Son of Odin. They will not deny me entrance to watch and cheer on my best friend at her practice!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose with your thumb and forefinger. Panic was seeping into your pores and you were wondering if you would have to stop with the lessons because of your nosy friend.

“Thor,”

“Yes, Y/n?”

“I am denying you entrance.”

He frowned. “But-”

“No. Performance time only.”

He sighed heavily, full of disappointment. “I will respect your wishes.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you later.”

“Goodbye, have an enjoyable practice.”

After you left, Thor looked up what pole dancing was. He was surprised that you would partake in an activity like that, but now understood your reluctance with him coming to watch and letting the others know.

He found himself wanting very much to watch you dance like that for him. Just for him. And he didn’t know how he felt with everyone in your class seeing you dance like that. What if there was a man or woman that took interest in you? You were very attractive, it wouldn’t take hardly anything for someone to fall for you in the same way he did.

When he finished investigating the specific type of dance, he laid back on his bed and shut his eyes. What would he say to you after discovering that you wanted to dance like this? He imagined you dancing on and against the pole. Slowly you stripped off your clothing, down to your underwear. You walked towards him slowly and seductively, hips swaying and chest out.

His mouth nearly watered at the thought. He slowly ran his hand down his chest and under his pants. He imagined it was your hand instead of his against his skin. He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he began stroking himself.

When he was finished and sticky with cum he felt immensely guilty. He shouldn’t be thinking of his best friend in that way. It was grossly inappropriate and demeaning.

He lumbered off of his bed and to the bathroom where he showered off.

Despite his guilt, the next few days were brimming with lust filled visions of you. Every time you bent over he was assaulted with the fantasies and struggled to ward them away.

While you were at your lessons one day, Thor was overcome with the impulse to go and actually see you dance. So he did. He walked into the building with confidence, and when the receptionist asked him what he was looking for he replied simply.

“The pole dancing lessons.”

She pointed him in the right direction, and only then did he begin to worry about his actions. He walked to the door to the room. It was cracked open slightly, but he didn't want to peep in. He put his hand on the handle, willing himself to enter, when the door opened.

A woman in tight clothing exited, running right into Thor. She looked up in surprise, but when she saw who it was a sultry smile overtook her lips.

“Oh, the mighty Thor. What brings you here big boy?” She looked at him through her lashes. He was startled, and looked up, eyes meeting yours. You were standing stock still, eyes on his and seething. He instinctively took a step back.

The woman stepped forward to close the gap between them. His eyes shot down to her.

She put a hand on his chest. “What do you say you come home with me?”

He removed her hand. “No thank you, miss.”

“Let me change your mind.” She leant up and pressed a kiss to his lips. He ripped himself away in alarm. She followed his movements, unfazed.

You turned to your friend in the class and growled, “I’ll throw hands with this bitch, fucking watch me!”

“Bet, I would pay to see that.” He said.

You marched forwards and yanked her back by her arm. She yelped, but waved her hand around and ended up smacking you across the face.

“You fucking-” you spun her around “cunt!” You slammed your fist to her face.

“Oh no! Stop!” The instructor yelled.

The woman tried to hit you back but you had the upper hand from years of combat training. You turned her to the nearest wall, smashed her face against it, and held her hands tightly against her back where her arms were turned up.

“Understand this, honey. If someone says no, that means no.”

“Thor, won’t you help me?” She cried.

You sent him a look that read, ‘Absolutely not, I’ll kill you.’

He waved his hands in defense and shook his head. “I did ..say no..”

You applied pressure to her arms and she cried out before you let her go. She fell to the floor and began to really cry, but you ignored her and made to leave.

“Yesss, bitch!” Your friend, Anthony called out, tossing you your bag.

“Thanks, Tony. Talk to you later, baby.”

You escorted Thor out of the building with a strong grip on his arm. You only let go when you were back out on the sidewalk where you could see your car.

“What. did. I. say. about. coming. to. practice.”

“I apologize, Lady Y/n. I didn’t mean-”

“You Never Mean,” You spit.

“I looked up pole dancing and just wanted to watch you dance. I didn’t want to start a fight.”

“Get in the car.”

“Y/n,”

“Get. in. the. car.”

He quickly got into the passenger seat. You got in the driver’s and sped off, refusing to look at him, your jaw tight.

He didn’t try to talk to you the entire way, and instead looked out of the window in shame.

When you arrived back at the Tower, you stopped him right before the front entrance. He looked at you curiously.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Wha-”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Oh Odin, yes.”

#Marvel #avengers #thor #x reader #thor x reader #fic

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snake-house · 7 years

Text

Tsukishima Kei X Reader - her hand.

Lord!Tsukishima Kei X Lady!Yamaguchi's sister!Reader warnings: her/she pronouns used for reader when you see '--' it means some time has passed kei and yama are 27, reader is 19 [pls get over the age diff. pls] kinda sorta royalty/lord! au: based in like the mid 1800s ___ "A Haikyuu lord AU where the lord has to marry reader-chan to convince their family that he's not gay-" prompt given to me by the lovely patcherinko ___

"What do you mean my family is going to disown me?" Kei seethed at the brunet. Yamaguchi flinched at his tone of voice, but didn't falter in his words, "Your parents believe that because you are already 27 and have yet to marry, they believe that you may be homosexual and thus if you don't marry within the year they will cut all ties from the family name and yourself." He explained again. "This is absolutely ridiculous, I don't remember making any insinuations that I was homosexual, why would they assume that? And why would they ask you to tell me and not tell me themselves?" He exclaimed, his anger rising by the second. "I understand your frustration sir, but as your best friend, I suggest you do as they ask and marry. They thought you would take the news better if you heard it from me." He said with a shrug. "I'm not even their first son, Akiteru is already married and has been for years with a son of his own, why does it matter if and when I do?" Tsukishima grumbled. "Talk to your mother then, but I can assure you that she will say just what I have said." With that, Yamaguchi left the young lord to himself. Kei paced his office for a few minutes, eyebrows knit in frustration. He knew that Yamaguchi was right, that his mother and brother would say the same thing. He didn't even know who he would marry if he agreed to it, but had no doubt that his mother had a list of ladies in waiting for him to look over if he asked. But then, he knew. Tsukishima rushed out of his room and after his friend. He found him in the parlor chatting with his mother. The both of them were startled when Kei ran in panting. His face flushed when he realized his mother was in the room but tried to keep his composure the best he could. "Yama," He said, "May I speak with you?" He asked, looking between him and his mother. "What's wrong Kei?" She asked, looking concern for his son, "Plus I am sure whatever you have to speak about with Tadashi can be spoken out in the open." Kei straightened his back and gave a shallow nod, "I suppose you're right." He flattened his vest against his chest, "What about your sister? She isn't married, and if I remember correctly, when she was younger she quiet fancied me." Kei said in Yama's direction. The freckled boy smiled and nodded, "She's not married, no. But has already had five offers since her 18th birthday, and when she came out, almost two years ago." He added, his grin widening when he saw Tsukishima's shoulders sag in defeat, "But she has declined all of them. Plus you're my best friend, I trust you if you were to ask her for her hand, I would approve of the marriage." Kei's mother visibly brightened and stood up, "Oh sweetie, [Name] is a lovely girl! I'm so glad Tadashi spoke with you about our concerns, I knew he would be able to through to you. This is going to be fantastic!" She beamed, "I must send Akiteru someone to get him so I can tell him the news!" "No, don't do that." Kei blurted, "Wait until I actually ask her, I wouldn't want to get my dear brother's hopes up." He said, his sarcastic tone didn't seem to make it to his mother. But she nodded, "I guess you're right, but you must ask her soon! She could get snatched up at any moment with a pretty face like hers." She said before excusing herself to go speak with his father. Yamaguchi waited for her to be at the top of the stairs before he spoke up, "You really want to ask [Name]?" There was a certain glint in the male's eyes that Tsukishima wasn't sure if he liked or not. "Yes," He took a seat next to him on the couch, "She's beautiful, and has always been kind to everyone so if I am supposed to get married within such a short amount of time, I know that even though I don't love her now, I know I will be able to." He said easily, ignoring how Tadashi grinned at his sappy talk. "That's so sweet Tsukki!" Yama beamed, "If you tell her exactly that she'll accept in a heartbeat!" He added. Tsukishima rolled his eyes, ignoring the blush coming to his cheeks, "Whatever, when will she be back from visiting your aunt?" "Tonight actually! She's expected to be back around five, but ask her tomorrow." Yama replied. "Alright, tell your mother I'll be by around noon, so make sure your sister doesn't go anywhere." Yamaguchi nodded, "Ok, I'll take my leave now then." He said standing and going over to the coat rack to grab his and put it on, "Wear your blue suit, it's my sister's favorite." He said with a grin, "I'll see you tomorrow?" Kei nodded seeing his friend out the door, "Yes, see you tomorrow. Tell Hitoka I say hello." Yamaguchi and Yachi got married five years ago. Tadashi smiled, telling him that he would before he left. Now he has to prepare himself for tomorrow. -- "Why do I need to wear a nice dress if I'm just going to sit around all day." You whined to your maid. She smiled at you, "Please Miss [Name], your mother asked me to make sure you wore a nice dress because we are supposed to expect some company today." She explained once again and shifted through your wardrobe. "Plus it is ten in the morning and you should be dressed and ready for the day by now." You sighed and flopped back on your bed, "It's not another marriage proposal I hope, all of them have been creepy old men who want a young wife." You muttered unhappily. "Everyone around me is talking about weddings and what kind of dress I should wear when the time comes and how many kids I should have. Has anyone asked what I want? No, they haven't." You pouted. "Don't say that, Mr. Knight was a nice man." She started, "Well Miss, what do you want?", she added pulling out a [color] gown, "Here it is." "And Mr. Knight was 45 and has been widowed twice." You countered before sitting up, "I do want to get married," You admitted, "But only to someone I want! I won't just fall down at any man's proposal." You added defensively before smiling fondly at the dress. "That's my favorite dress. I guess I could wear that." [style of dress in the second to last] The maid smiled at you, "I'm glad we've decided on something, now get out of your nightgown so I may help you dress." She asked as she grabbed your petticoat, crinoline, corset and other undergarments you wore beneath your dresses. A half hour later you were outside in the garden talking to your mother and sister-in-law over tea. Actually, you were more like trying to get out of them who was coming over today. Yachi was giggling over you efforts, glancing between the two of you to see if your mother would cave. "If you want to know so badly, go ask your bother." She sighed, trying to look uninterested in your curiosity, but you saw the smile itching to take over her face. You smiled and quickly headed back in the house to find your brother. "Tadashi?" You called, unsure of where he was at the moment. You heard your name from across the house, meaning he was in his office. You knocked on the door before you opened it, to alert him of you presence. You brother smiled at you from where he sat behind his desk when walked into the office. "Funny seeing you here," He said with a grin, "Is there something you want?" You never usually came into his office for mere pleasure, you always had a question or something to ask of him. "Yes, who's coming over? I know it has something to do with me, but no one will tell me! Not even my maid Mabel." You said in a fake somber voice as you took a seat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. A grin came to his face, making you narrow your eyes, "I do know," He said making you smile, "But they should be here in a half hour, so I don't want to spoil the surprise." He teased, looking back at the documents he was reading before you came in. You groaned, "You're not going to tell me either?" Yamaguchi shook his head, making you sigh and stand up, "Fine. I guess I'll have to wait." You muttered and exited the office. Tadashi laughed a little to himself as he watched you leave. You'll certainly be startled when Kei showed up asking for you. "No luck?" Yachi asked as approached the table. You shook your head, "No, Tadashi usually tells me everything when I ask." You said but smiled, "I guess it must be important if even he won't tell me." The blonde gave you a small smile, "It is, so don't worry. We aren't setting you up or anything." She added with a giggle, your mother joining in. You looked between the women, "This is not fair at all." -- A half hour later a maid came out to where the four of you resided in the garden, Tadashi joined you moments ago, and whispered something in your mother's ear that made her smile and nod her head, "Could you bring out a fresh pot of tea?" She asked before she left. Not a minute later, you watched none other than your brother best friend Kei Tsukishima walk through the back door towards you all. All you could do was sigh, why would they get your hopes up for Kei to arrive? He was just going to talk with Yamaguchi about whatever gentlemen talked about and completely ignore you. Like always. "Good afternoon Kei." Hitoka greeted. "How have you been?" She asked politely after everyone said their hellos. "Just fine thank you, and you?" He asked, glancing at Yama for a moment before adding, "Any news of a child yet?" With a straight face, he made both your brother and Hitoka blush. They both said no. It was funny to Kei. He was being pressured to get married because he was thought to be gay and yet his friend had been married for five years and has yet to have a son, let alone a child. You stayed quiet as they exchanged words, taking a bite of the muffin on your plate. "[Name]?" You heard Kei say suddenly, making you sit up straighter in your chair and turn to him, letting him know you had his attention, "Would you care to go for a walk?" He asked. His voice wasn't as sharp as it normally was, it made you nervous. You glanced at your brother, since he was the head of the house since your father died last year. Tadashi gave you a curt nod, "That would be nice, thank you." You agreed, taking Kei's outstretched hand and stood. You looked at your mom for an explanation, but she was already in a new conversation with her daughter-in-law, leaving you to wonder. Your family owned more than five hundred acres of land, a large garden for you and your mother included in that land. "I heard you received another marriage proposal a few months ago." Kei spoke up, looking straight ahead as he spoke, "May I ask if you accepted?" "I assume my brother already told you, but no," You said turning to look at his profile, "I didn't accept." He nodded, "Why is that? I heard he has very high social standings." You smiled at him when he turned to look at you, it was your turn to look forward while you spoke, "May I speak freely?" He arched an eyebrow at you, making you giggle when you peeked at him from the corner of your eye, "You may." He said skeptically. "He creeped me out." You stated, "It is as simple as that. Social standings do not matter to me for a marriage proposal, if I do not like you, I will not accept." "That's understandable." Tsukishima agreed, placing a hand in his coat pocket to take out his watch and check the time. "You look very nice today." You complimented, pausing in your tracks, Kei doing the same. You gazed at the rose bush, they were red roses, but there was one pink one growing on the bush. He grinned to himself, glad he took Yamaguchi's advice about the suit. He noticed you were wearing a fancier dress than normal, he just hoped you didn't know his intentions. Your hair also wasn't down like you usually did it. It was back in a bun with a few [color] curls down to frame your face. You really were beautiful. "You look beautiful as well." He said, adding, "But you always look beautiful, today you're beauty is just overwhelming." You blushed at his compliment. He was never this flirty, at least never with you. He constantly teased Hitoka and Tadashi, but he was never like that towards you. He was usually blunt and straight to the point. It was concerning you. "You're flattering me, thank you, but that can't be true." You said in an embarrassed tone, covering your face with your hand to hide your blush. "Are you calling me a liar?" The teasing tone was evident, making you avoid his gaze. "No, you're just being too kind." You said simply. He was well aware of the years he had on you, so he was trying to flirt like he used to when he was your age, but it was obvious you were easily flattered, but still mature beyond your physical years. "How was your trip to your aunt's?" He asked changing the subject as you started walking again. When you blush cooled down you removed your hand from your face, "It was nice, thank you. My cousins however are too loud and rambunctious for me to go there often." The corners of your eyes crinkled as you smiled. "That's good to hear." "How is your business going? Or was it stocks?" You asked. "Both actually, I have stocks invested in different things, as well as the family corporate finance business." Your eyebrows drew together in confusion, "It has to do with banking." You nodded. "But both have been well, thank you for asking." "Not a problem." Kei had felt like this whole asking you for a walk to give you a proposal of marriage was lost, so he needed to get to the point before you lost interest. "Anyways, I am sure you're curious to why I asked you to walk with me." He started, looking to see your reaction. You peered at him and gave a nod, "I am, but I didn't want to seem rude and ask you." "Well, to put away all formalities and to be rather blunt with you," You were watching him intently as he spoke, while his gaze never left yours, "I've come here today to ask you to marry me." And as simple as that, he told you. Kei could tell it took you a moment to comprehend what he told you. One moment you were looking at him normally and the next, you took a step back blushing and sputtering out incoherent things. Highly unladylike of you, but that was something that Kei liked about you and your brother, was your ways of being very high class, but so very down to Earth. "Are you being serious?" Was the only thing that came out normally. Kei nodded, "I am. My family believes I am getting too old and that I need to get married. There is also the fact that they think I am homosexual, which I am not, so I need to prove them wrong by getting married." He saw the small smile on your lips falter as he explained, "But if I were to be pressured into marrying, I wanted it to be someone of my choice, and someone I know I could learn to love." You were silent again for a while, still red-faced, but silent with your lips pulled into a straight line. He didn't know when you both stopped walking. "I know I am probably not your first choice [Name]," Kei started again glancing around the large garden, "But you are mine, and I apologize for not giving you a proper courtship. I think you're beautiful and one of the kindest people in my life, and I hope you'd accept my offer and become my wife." "Is Tadashi ok with this?" You asked suddenly. Kei gave a smile and nodded, "I asked him already if it was alright to pursue you, but would only agree to it if you did." You nodded, your pursed lips forming a smile. Of course your brother would say that, he was much more for your own thoughts than your father was. "That's a really funny reason to look for a wife." You teased, folding your hands in front of you. A short chuckle left Kei, "I know, but I assume this was the perfect push from my family to get their second son married." You laughed with him, before finally nodding, "Yes." "Yes?" He asked, unsure if he heard you correctly, because you've already turned five men down. "Yes, I would love to become your wife." You were practically beaming now. Eyes bright as you smiled at him. Tsukishima couldn't help but smile just as brightly at you. Maybe he liked you more than he originally thought. He clenched and unclenched his hands nervously, "That's, That's great. I don't have a ring for you yet, I wanted you to pick out something you liked if that is alright with you." He added. "That's very thoughtful of you, and perfectly fine with me." You replied and unclasped your hands, "You may hold my hand." You've never been intimate with a man beside your brother or father, so you were unsure if you were missing any social queues. He did just as you said and grabbed your hand, planting a kiss on your knuckles before lacing his fingers with yours, "Would you like to tell your family the news then?" Tadashi, Hitoka, and your mother burst with happiness when you walked back hand-in-hand. It was a huge giveaway that you said yes. They were all happy for the both of you, the women already fawning over you and talking about the wedding that didn't have a date yet. Though it wasn't much different to how Kei's parents and brother reacted when you were introduced to them. His mother had apparently already got together with your mother to plan shopping trips and hiring a wedding planner, the whole package. Both of you were blushing nonstop. It would certainly be the story to tell of how Kei proposed at the wedding, it all starting with the accusation of the male being gay. How unfortunate.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #tsukishima kei #hq #hq!!#reader #x reader #x reader insert #reader insert #reposted from deviantart #tsukishima x reader #kei tsukishima

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