#anyway one coworker i like is back from vacation and the annoying coworker is about to go on vacation so yaaaaay

[six-of-ravens]

good thing my boss is in a good mood today bc i slept horribly and I need the Eye of Sauron to not be on me

[magicalyaku]

August felt soo long. At first, it was great with my vacation and a successful convention and great books and then reality came crashing back in with developments at work that left me reeling for a bit. I'm bad with change. /D Anyway, on to the books! I had a lot of train time this month, so there's quite a few.

Slippery Creatures, Subtle Blood, The Sugared Game (The Will Darling Adventures 1-3) (KJ Charles): Ooh, these took me by surprise! I read two of the author's other books last month and needed something light and easy for my train trips. These were so much more delightful than I expected. I read all 3 of them within five days. Fun! Adventure! Intrigue! Characters I actually like! No really, I loved Will and his attitude. Sure, he has kind of a short temper and resorts to violence quickly, but … everyone deserved it! (And it's just a book.) This is my fantasy, you know. Actually spitting people in their face when they annoy me. Actually telling them off no matter the consequences. Hah. I guess, this is why I like this sort of character. (The Tarot Sequence's Brand and All for the Game's Andrew come to mind … Interestingly, just like Kim in here their partners are lying little shit's as well. And seen from that angle, Laurent and Damen of Captive Prince fit that category as well. I'm starting to see patterns in what I like to read. :'D) So anyway, I had a lot of fun reading this series! <3

Lose you to find me (Erik J. Brown): I have things to say. 8D First of all, yes, it's cute. It made me smile when my day was shit and while the characters had their annoying phases I'm glad it turned out how it did in the end. Before reading, though, I was so disappointed it was just a contempory romance. After All that's left in the world with it's postapocalyptic but not too outlandish setting I was hoping I'd get more of that "a little different". Yeah, didn't work out, but the pain eased a little because the book was nice actually and we reconciled for real with author's afterword. And to be fair, usually, I'm all in when authors do different things with each book instead of writing the same all over again, so I have to give him credit for this. But there's still one more thing I have to mention. Why is there no content warning for SEVERED BODY PARTS?! Like what the hell seriously. I'm not squeamish usually but one of my coworkers cut off a part of his finger permanently at the beginning of the year, so this was waaay too real to me. A warning would have been appreciated. /D

Prince in Disguise (Perilous Courts 2) (Tavia Lark): More stuff that's easy to read. I liked the first volume better because the stakes were higher but it was still pretty okay. I definitely like how close these volumes are in timeline and story while still being separate adventures. I wish Whisper's mission in this would have had a little more impact but well, it is what it is. (I think I just like Whisper more than Bell or Rakos 8D). Also new mascot animal. Cute! I wonder if there'll be one in volume 3 as well … 8D

Afterglow (Golden Boys 2) (Phil Stamper): After Lose you to find me I was in the mood for more contemporary YA and as it turns out the themes in this one are similar. High school graduation, college applications, self-discovery. It also felt very American to me. As a European reading books like this is always like a cultural study. :'D I think, what I liked most about Golden Boys was its quiet tone. It had its dramatic moments but, at least in my memory overall, it was more calm and understated and while I love my adventure stories reading something nice and calm was a good change of pace. And the sequel takes it even one step further. While there's anxiety towards the future it's never the kind of overwhelming where I have to squeeze my eyes shut and take a moment to calm my nerves before I can continue reading. 8D In terms of content this works because it's a sequel and we already know everyone and their previous struggles. I have a lot of respect for the writing process. Juggling four boys and the timeline? Ugh. And yeah, I liked the book and the paths the boys take. All these different perspectives on life. It's not just another "where's the next party" and "oh he doesn't like me what should i do" but focusses on the characters and their indivual worries and their friendship. It's nice and it's warm. :)

Sir Callie and the Champions of Helston (Esme Symes-Smith): Well … I wish I liked this better than I did. The story is fine, the characters are fine (in comparison to the next book below they a stellar), the themes are important and I can see what it wants to do and most of it it does pretty well, but … Yes, in order to overthrow a system you first need to establish it. But the first third of the book was hard to get through as the world Callie steps into is very rigid in its rules surrounding gender and stuff and it's making Callie hurt, angry and defensive and even though I knew it would eventually lead to a better place, it was making me angry as well and I get angry easily everytime I step outside, I don't really need that in my books. It gets better once the kids actually meet for real and spend more time with each other. But there's the other part that I didn't like: There's something jarring about the writing style. Like bumps on a smooth road - the more bumps we ride over the more annoying they get. It happened most noticably with distances and the passage of time. The hole that Callie's mother left in her heart took years to grow over, but never fully healed. But they've only been away from said mother for two years. When Callie confronts Peran, Papa draws them backwards, Neal steps between them, yet Peran's face is so close, they can see coloured specks in his irises. He's also way taller than them, so how does that work? At one point I wondered if the author might have less visual imagination power than I do because all the descriptions of distances around the castle, the town, the bridge and the forest just felt jumbled to me. (Or maybe I was just not reading well.) Last example: Callie and Edwyn circle around the dragon and attack their back with swords and it's said in a single simple sentence like it's nothing. But that dragon must be huge, because their face is as large as a human, and also it was flying a few minutes earlier and directly afterwards it's said how there's fire all around them. But yeah, apparently that swing was super easy to do, so one sentence is enough to say it happened. It just felt weird and it happened so often. And I feel bad for picking at a book for kids with a good cause but damn. All these things are so easy to make better and more coherent. :I

The Last Fallen Moon (Gifted Clans 2) (Graci Kim): Ugh, I don't know, this might be the first middle grade book I read where I'd say "I'm too old for this." Not really a fan of the humor and the attempted quirkiness, the pop culture references (and how it basically says that all (Korean?) celebrities are witches which I find actually offensive. Pretty sure none of the kids reading these books will have any magical abilities, so they won't ever make it to stardom or what no matter how hard they try? Hmm.) It was also hard to be patient when things are so obvious and still get treated like a big revelation pages after (The Stairbucks toilets?!) And the characters felt so bland to me. I couldn't tell you a single interesting thing about any of them. Things got better towards the end, when everything starts to fall into place instead of being a string of small tasks that can never be completed because there's suddenly some new issue. The two things I liked are that Riley gains a brother rather than a love interest (or a brother who is a love interest … 8D) and that her sister has an active part this time. Will I read the next installment? …. Probably not?

Waiting for Godot (Samuel Beckett): Oops, something totally different in here for once. I like theatre, but liking in this case means, that I know all plays by Eugene Ionesco and Oscar Wilde, topped with a singular Wedekind and this one. :'D I'm terribly picky and not actively seeking out new stuff. But the Theatre of the Absurd especially has a way with words and weird situations that I always found fascinating. I read Godot a long time ago and went to see it on stage a couple of years ago but when I thought of it recently I realised I didn't remember anything so I reread it and well … I understood why my memory failed. I don't know if I'd actually call the piece good. It's weird, it's weirdly sad and therefore it's weirdly endearing. But most of all it's a giant "what the fuck is going on". It made me think of all that "Is our life a simulation"-crap since Estragon seems to be the only one capable of remembering previous events. But I'm not going to try to think about what it all could mean as it will lead nowhere anyway. :'D

Dark Rise (C.S. Pacat): The sequel is coming in November so I thought it time to refresh my memory! I own the English edition but went and borrowed the German edition from the library for all the things I might have missed and because it's interesting to read the translation vs. the original. I remember having a blast reading this for the first time (I think this was the first time for me writing something book-related on my blog because it was just too wild to contain 8D). And now, knowing the twists and turns it was delicious to look for the foreshadowing (and the twists and turns were delicious as well like hnng!!). And now waiting for the next volume is even harder. Damn!

For September I have planned something nice! Please look forward to it!

[thejudgingtrash]

11. “...did you just sniff me?” for percabeth pretty please 🙏🤍🤍🤍

Heya! I’m finally here to come back to this request 😄😄 It took me only a little bit in comparison to other requests, but I'm here!

Also since @percyheartsannabeth, @skaterannabeth and @not-optimistic-petrol-biscuit had asked about fluff. Here you go... Kinda? 😬 Anyway. Here's a monster sneak peek into may I introduce you to my beloved wife? 😋

It took me all day yesterday, but I managed to pump out 11k words. That's a record for a single session in one day (with like two breaks). And yes, that is still not the entire chapter. Here are roughly 9,2k for you to consume!

TW: alcohol, overbearing relatives not minding their own business, a tiny section talking about domestic abuse and Athena and Frederick Chase ain't shit but that's nothing new. Poseidon too, for once. Enjoy!

may I introduce you to my beloved wife?

(*absolutely not proof-read, my bad)

Annabeth sighed. You can do this. You can do this. You’ve already finished the week. Think about the money. Think about the move to California. Push through this day and next week, think about the money and the minute you’ll hand your termination in. She wanted to splash some water up her face, but the makeup that tinted her lips in a luscious rose and added some bronze to her high cheekbones was too expensive to be washed off and hastily reapplied.

It was pre-Dionysus Day, which meant it was merely the calm before the storm. The first sparkling sip of an impending disaster waiting to rollover the roomy Greek villa Percy forced her to stay in. Well not really forced. Forced and bribed her to stay in. That made it sound slightly better. Just think of the one-hundred seventy-five dollars he’s going to transfer into your bank account for your new start in California. I should renegotiate. California is also expensive. Make it two-hundred fifty thousand.

The tall blonde looked at her reflection in the mirror. A young woman full of life was the first thing she had seen in the morning but now she looked tired and annoyed, just how she felt. Something crashed in one of the dozens of rooms next to her and people laughed. Annabeth sighed again. It was the only thing she could do, otherwise she would scream like a banshee, making sure that at least Hermes and Prometheus would check her, if it wasn’t for Percy stuffing socks into her mouth to make her shut up before they got to her. The majority of his Greek relatives had been lovely if not terribly nosy and overbearing. It was the opposite of her family. His was warm and chaotic and for the most part welcoming. Hers? Cold, apathetic, disapproving of everything she did. She had no family in comparison, and neither would she want to compare this wholesome messy bunch to the cold-hearted Athena Pallas and the monster that was Friedrich Chase.

Annabeth respected Hera and Hestia, she definitely side-eyed Aphrodite who was cheating on her husband and she would definitely stay away from Zeus. Crossing paths with him occasionally in the New York office of Atlantic INC. was terrible, seeing him openly be flirty and loosen up during a forced trip was way worse.

This was a bad idea and I have a terrible feeling about this. The burgundy wrap dress that hugged her skin was soft and light but in the Thessalian heat it felt like a sticky cocoon caging her. She wasn’t a beautiful butterfly, ready to burst out and wow everyone. Neither was she a moth drawn to a flame. She was a bug that had been sprayed by Percy with a pesticide, wrapped in toxic chemicals which were slowly dissolving her body, piece by piece.

A knock shoved the horrendous image inside of her head aside. “Yes?” she asked with a firm voice. Too firm with a hint of annoyance, but she was not a professional actress and could not switch her emotions off as she pleased. She was a junior marketing manager for Christ’s sake. Not for much longer. Only two more months…

Percy opened the door. “Are you ready?“ he asked with his usual pleasant baritone reaching her ear.

He wore light linen pants that hugged his legs loosely and a light blue shirt with the first buttons opened up. She could see his defined chest and the swirls of black hair peeking through. The hair was styled into a disheveled curly mess which suited him way better than the gelled back corporate look and he forgot to trim his beard like the day before. Annabeth couldn’t deny what she saw – her tormentor was a very attractive man.

“Do you want to bail?” His sea-green eyes darkened a shade. Worry flashed through them.

Annabeth exhaled sharply for the last time. “I wish I could but then I’d leave you without a fiancé,” she smiled through the pain.

Her glance found her reflection again. The topknot was still intact, and a few strands carefully framed her heart-shaped face. She looked perfect on the outside and she wanted to commit manslaughter in the inside.

“Let’s get over with it,” Percy sighed and stretched his hand out. It seemed like Percy was the one that would rather bail.

Annabeth took it without any complaint. She was the happy girlfriend soon-to-be-wife and holding hands was way better than being forced into kissing him during Sports Day. The Theodoropoulos family truly had planned activity after activity during those two weeks in winter.

“Oh!” Sally peeked into the bathroom and saw her son holding Annabeth’s hand.

“There you are! Is everything okay, mija?” she asked with her sweet Dominican accent and looked at Annabeth.

Annabeth automatically smiled back. Sally was the mother she never had, and it broke her heart crumble by crumble by the sheer charade Percy and she were forced to display for the next six days. Sally Jackson deserved the best. She certainly didn’t deserve being deceived and lied to by her terrible son and his tag-a-long coworker.

“Yes, Percy was just making sure we’re arriving on time.” Annabeth got on her toes and placed a soft kiss on Percy’s stubbled cheek. It tickled but by now she had gotten used to it.

He rolled his eyes, smiled at his mother, nonetheless. Sally’s eyes sparkled and she clapped, clutching her hands tightly. “You don’t know how proud you’re making me, mijo,” she then said teary-eyed.

“You finally found a great girl and she is standing next to you.” Sally wiped a tear away and the awful feeling that sat on Annabeth’s chest and made everything heavier, amplified by a thousand times.

This was way worse than being referred to as the woman that would bear him three to five children presuming with the first one sired on this current vacation by Ares. Yes, Annabeth wanted two children at max, but not definitely now. She was twenty-eight and in the prime of her life! Note: Percy would certainly not be the father of said two children. Unruly blond waves and a mischievous grin blitzed through her head. Pale blue eyes came back from the deepest pit of her memory. Luke. Fuck no, that was even worse than Percy. His betrayal… Annabeth tried to shake the memory off and focused on the ongoing situation in front of her.

Sally truly hoped her son found love and not a quick fling. Oh shit, Annabeth thought and looked up to Percy whose face expressed similar thoughts. His conscience nibbled and guilt flooded his body.

“Mamá,” Percy began and released Annabeth’s hand in order to grasp the older woman’s shoulder.

Sally brushed his large hands off. “No, no! Off you go! You younglings should be downstairs celebrating your reunion with the entire side of Poseidon’s family.”

Annabeth appreciated the fact that Sally was invited and flown out each winter holiday by the Theodoropoulos’. Despite having been divorced from Poseidon for over twenty years, she was still a popular and welcomed guest, not just because of her son’s attachment to the Greek side and his tied division of the Greek family company.

Sally gave each of them a last smile before entering the women’s bathroom. Percy exhaled and pinched his nose. After ten seconds he released the nose and looked back at Annabeth. “Ready?” he asked a final time. Annabeth nodded.

The loud singing, yelling and talking that had been muffled by the bathroom hit her by a tenfold. The place had all the Mamma Mia vibes without the fun singing four days ago. Not anymore, as drunk relatives hit up the shore with loud music and talked loudly in their Pontic Greek dialect.

As the couple descended the stairs and walked through the parlor, a new wave of guests arrived at the same time. Three people that have just entered early adulthood looked up to them. Two men, one blond with a stoic face and bronzed skin, the other was shorter with spiky black hair and a beautiful grin on his lips. The woman next to him was the tallest out of the trio and possessed a high ponytail that would leave Ariana Grande dying out of envy. The dyed lilac hair swung around and nearly reached the middle of her thighs, meaning the hair was even longer without its tight prison on top.

“Thanatos, Zagreus, Megaera!” greeted Percy and gave each one of them a rib crushing bear hug. They looked pleasantly surprised at seeing Percy being accompanied by a pretty woman his age. It seems like the proposal didn’t reach all of the ends of the Greek world.

They fell into a short conversation in Greek and Annabeth smiled politely next to Percy as she fell entirely out of place. The evil Duolingo owl didn’t prepare her for this experience. Neither did her mother bother teaching her at least their Athenian dialect properly. She could introduce herself in Greek, order a beer, say goodbye and that was it. Thank you, Athena. For nothing again.

“Oh, you must be Annabeth,” Megaera eyed her carefully and Annabeth had the feeling that she could split her open with her hands. Weirdly enough, Annabeth was kind of into it. Megaera wasn’t only as tall as Percy but she was clearly the one with the toughest workout regimen as she displayed her muscular legs and defined arms with a short cocktail dress only a few shades darker than her hair.

“Yes,” Annabeth squeaked. She nearly added a ma’am towards the end. Megaera cocked her dark eyebrow. She had an aura that demanded respect.

“Interesting to see the woman who captured Perseus’ heart. It seems that he did develop a good taste after all. Calypso was as pretty as the crescent moon flower but sadly as dull as his corny jokes are.” Megaera’s deep smirk was a stamp of approval as her eyes roamed all over Annabeth.

“Hey!” Percy interrupted and placed a firm hand on Annabeth’s waist, as if he was trying to mark his territory.

“You have your own toys right to your right,” he then added with a playful tone.

Megaera actually laughed and waved dismissively. “That doesn’t mean there isn’t room for more.” A clear offer which left Annabeth’s face turn into a fiery tomato red.

“Anyway, we have some catching up to do,” Thanatos proposed as Zagreus and he silently watched the conversation blossom. He sounded as reserved as he looked.

“Indeed,” Zagreus agreed, surprising Annabeth with a posh English accent. “Father will murder me if we miss out on his moussaka. It’s to die for you need to try it, Annabeth, at least before Hephaestus gets ahead of himself.”

Annabeth laughed. The Theodoropoulos did have their positives. “I will, Zagreus,” she nodded.

“Oh please, if aunt Sally gave her go for you to stay here, you’re as good as family. We’re Than, Zag and Meg for you,” Zagreus offered.

“Annabeth is already my nickname but thank you for the kind offer!”

The three new guests went on to join relatives and friends at the party which seemed to get more chaotic by each passing minute as the volume seemed to increase.

“My cousin Zagreus from my uncle Hades’ side,” Percy explained as the three went out of his sight.

“Are they friends? Or…”

“Pretty sure they’re polyamorous. You know, I don’t know, and I honestly don’t really care, I see Zag once every twelve months at max. Just don’t stick to Meg’s side for too long otherwise she’ll turn you into her fiancé.” Percy’s tone suggested that he was not joking.

“Oh.” Annabeth didn’t know what to think of it.

Percy closed his eyes as if he was making a silent prayer, before his sea-green met Annabeth’s light gray ones. She smelled like lemon with a hint of lavender, instead of roses like normally. Delicious. If it weren’t for the fact that it was Annabeth.

“So, listen. You know I’ve talked about Dionysus Day and how his birthday brings out the worst side of everyone.”

Annabeth nodded as Percy went on to explain.

“Pre-Dionysus Day is basically same with the only exception that my great-grandmother’s house is filled with the entire family. Yes, we’re expected to eat, drink, laugh, drink, dance, drink, reminisce on our past, drink, make fools out of ourselves in order for them to take blackmail pictures and drink some more, but no matter how much they want you to open up… try to control yourself. Everything you say can and will be used against you.”

Annabeth’s stomach started to churn, and her knees slightly gave in. “Look, I’m truly sorry for the mess that I’ve caused,” Percy looked directly into her eyes and tried to ignore the rosy streaks across her flushed cheeks. “And my relatives can be overbearing. But if we manage to stick through this night and the next one tomorrow, we’re as good as done with playing games.”

“Fine,” Annabeth gritted through her teeth. She had agreed to the terms and condition. She didn’t need a reminder of the stupid decision she made two months ago.

“Let’s go.”

She placed her hand on the doorknob that separated the parlor from the huge living room. Percy followed her as she opened the door. A wave of laughter, wine, ouzo, discovered secrets, cigarettes, sweat and fun hit them.

“Oh wow, someone should open a window.” Percy suggested as he coughed. Luckily cousin Metis had the same idea. No, aunt Metis. Or was it Thetis? Why did Percy need to have so many relatives with similar names again?

“Oh, Annabeth, look at you!” Aphrodite had snuck up behind them and surprised the fake couple by hugging each of them and nearly spilling the expensive Greek vintage in her hand on Percy’s shirt. The red alcoholic liquid carelessly swirled in her glass and more than often seemed to want to escape from her clutch.

“Aphrodite, be careful!” Percy reminded her as she dug her fingers into his arm. Her nails were as fake and bought as was the bond between Annabeth and Percy.

“Oh, please cousin, you should learn how to loosen up!” She laughed, but it sounded more like the shrill sound a bird made when it got nearly hit by a car. The high pitch made Annabeth slightly frown.

“Take your girl upstairs and show her all the Zorbas moves you got!” She wiggled her badly overdrawn eyebrows.

Aphrodite had always been the poster child of perfection. She knew how to dress her curvaceous body the right way, she knew how to apply the perfect touches of makeup on her face and she was the most graceful being Annabeth had ever met. Seeing her so disheveled left the blonde American content. It showed that Aphrodite wasn’t one of the gods, she was a mortal mess like they all were. That, and it was kind of funny seeing the abrupt transition from oozing perfection to looking like a rough mess after a couple of glasses of wine.

“If you know what I mean, you two know what I mean, right?”

“Yes,” Annabeth and Percy answered. Unfortunately, they did.

“That reminds me, this is such a pretty dress that you got!” Aphrodite’s eyes widened and she tugged at Annabeth’s sleeve that went slightly over her elbows. “Percy needs to bring me a couple of those the next time he visits. Oh wait! You’re about to marry, Annabeth can take me shopping. I want to visit New York next summer. When was your wedding again?”

Panic filled Annabeth she tried to stutter a lame excuse like they had done the entirety of the stay. Aphrodite’s brown eyes found something else to focus on in the meantime. Her hand went out to poke the tall blonde’s chest as she went on to pull on the thin fabric.

“You should show the men what you got! Free the girls!” Aphrodite yelled over the loud music, pushing Annabeth’s C cup to its limits. “Let Percy stand in the corner with that stupid frown, all jealous and depressed while you’re out on the hunt!”

Percy did not look amused especially since he tried to pull Annabeth away.

“Yeah, just like that!” Aphrodite’s glass pointed directly at his face as Annabeth tried to shove Aphrodite’s fickle fingers aside. “Oh, if I were just a little bit younger and not tied to your cousin…”

“You mean cousins,” Percy corrected and made a step backwards as Aphrodite’s dreamy and drunk dazed focus shifted from Annabeth to him.

“Aphrodite, leave Percy and his future wife alone,” Hera arrived to save the stressed couple and rolled her eyes. “Go harass Hephaestus and try to be a faithful wife for once in your life.”

She still looked like she had a massive stick shoved up her ass by the way she stood entirely straight next to them, but Annabeth appreciated the gesture. If Hera didn’t like Aphrodite much, Annabeth would rather join Team Hera than stand alone by the bleachers and under Aphrodite’s charmspeak. Aphrodite pouted and stomped with her feet twice as if she were a toddler and not a grown woman marching towards her forties. Then she stormed off and ran into the arms of her lover, nother husband to spite her mother-in-law and embarrass her even further.

“Malàka,” Hera cursed and lost her cool for one second, before clearing her throat and focusing on the already tired fake engaged couple in front of her. Not even Hera seemed to be averse from drinking a glass of wine or two. “You two definitely need a drink.”

Annabeth agreed with her for once.

She pointed at the bar behind her, which was managed by Dionysus and his wife Ariadne. The number of relatives ganging up on them and demanding new drinks was frightening. Surprisingly Dionysus kept his cool and shoved drinks in people’s hands at an impressive speed.

“Yeah, let’s get over with it,” Percy sighed and took Annabeth’s hand again.

“Are you okay?” Annabeth asked him. She knew from Thalia that Percy rarely ever drank and that his family was to blame for most of it. Percy seemed stiffer and graver than usual as well. As much as she disliked his jokey nature and easy-going demeanor he displayed at work, she’d much rather have that Percy by her side right now. Dionysus Day and the day before seemed like it was hell on earth for him and walking through it each year must take a toll on him.

“Yeah, let’s just each grab a glass of wine. Let them be happy about me shoving this disgusting stuff down my throat.” He thanked Ariadne as she prepared two glasses of the same vintage Aphrodite seemed to have inhaled earlier.

“Thank you.” Annabeth took her glass and sniffed. The wine smelled sickly sweet with a hint of the bitterness that the fermentation process had left. The glass in her hand weighed surprisingly heavy, not because of the wine itself but because of the golden swirls decorating it. The glass transitioned from the crystal-clear transparency into a deep black. A lyre surrounded by a bigger laurel wreath decorated the middle section and a golden snake was wrapped around the stem. The golden rim gave it a nice finish.

“Into a fruitful night,” Percy darkly mumbled over the music. He was really not looking forward to it, which confused Annabeth immensely. She didn’t understand why he pushed himself through this if he really didn’t like the drinking activities. He surely had his reasons, hence her not starting a fight with him over it. It was his family and their tradition after all.

“Into a fruitful night,” Annabeth instead repeated.

Issuing a weird toast as well. Percy Jackson was clearly not a drinker. Their glasses clinked and each of them took a sip. Thankfully grandma Rhea made sure they were well-fed before the festivities began.

“Fuck,” Annabeth muttered. A fine vintage as well. Not as sweet as she thought, it left a hint of sweet cumin as the lingering aftertaste. Her lipstick left a mark on the glass, but she didn’t bother to care as she took another gulp. The wine was nearly finished. She slowly started to understand why ancient civilizations went crazy after this stuff.

As she looked at her so-called fiancé, she saw that his glass was already empty. A grimace rested on his face as well.

“Err, Percy?”

“What?” The dark brooding look on his face was no more.

“Shouldn’t you take it easy?” Annabeth carefully asked. His eyes narrowed.

“I am,” he stated and cocked his head towards his cousin who was still busy playing the barkeeper but kept an overall watchful glimpse on the guests that flooded the gates.

“Dionysus saw me drink. Most importantly he saw us have a drink. That should be enough for me, but if you want some more, be my guest.” He shrugged.

Annabeth felt that she should probably drag his mopey ass out of the party, but it was way too early to leave. “Fine,” she said and asked Ariadne for a refill. Annabeth went in for another long sip. She should definitely stock her wine cabinet once she was back at her shitty apartment. Before the glass reached her lips again, Hermes snatched it away and chugged the remaining wine.

“Hermes, what the hell?!” Ariadne grabbed the glass and pushed her husband’s cousin away. The bored postman was back with his shenanigans.

“My bad, dear wifey, but I’m on a mission here to abduct sweet Annabeth,” Hermes winked and placed his hands around Annabeth’s shoulders.

“What are you up to?” Out of all of the relatives she’s met so far, Annabeth was convinced that everything Zeus had ever sired was a mistake. Zeus himself was a mistake.

“Can you stop being German and boring for once?” he joked. Annabeth’s eyes narrowed. She did not like this one bit. She turned her head around and saw that Percy had been pulled into a conversation by Hypnos and Morpheus. He had completely forgotten about her. Great.

Hermes guided her through the crowd, towards the middle of the room. They had to dodge chairs, drunk relatives, a sofa, chatty relatives, the coffee table and dancing relatives before they made it.

“There she is!” greeted Achilles the confused marketing manager.

Paris, Helen, Patroclus, Hermes and Achilles stood in a circle around a table. Dozens of shots of all sorts of colors were displayed. Annabeth had a terrible feeling about this.

“What is this and why are you pulling me into this?” Annabeth asked and did not like the mischievous grin they all shared. She wanted to go back home and cuddle with Daedalus on her sofa and push his cat ass out of the way before the next steamy Outlander scene hit the screen. Yes, Annabeth was that much of a single that seeing some on-screen action was the best she could get. She hoped that the mangy cat didn’t bother Thalia all too much while she was staying in Greece. She owed her so much already.

“Well, I stayed in your country,” Paris started. “And they have a weird tradition with ouzo. They don’t drink it the way we do, watered down and slowly at lunch and what not…”

Annabeth was still American for the most part and had nothing to do with Germany. The last time she stayed there was nearly thirteen years ago. She didn’t want to have anything to do with Germany. Friedrich Chase lived in Germany. And she fucking hated Friedrich Chase. Therefore, she hated Germany. Things that would never change. Okay, Hamburg was a cool city and she was glad her father moved to Cologne. Should she feel the urge to travel back to Germany for a week or less, she’d go to Hamburg, take ten thousand pictures, and post them on Instagram the minute before she was boarding her flight back to New York. Helping her to enrage her stupid father was all Germany had to offer.

“Germans do ouzo shots,” Patroclus cut to the chase. “And since you’re the newest member of our family…”

“And German!” Paris and Hermes added simultaneously.

“We’ve decided to play this little game,” Achilles added.

“What’s the name of the game?” Annabeth asked. She was only slightly curious. Emphasis on slightly.

“Last man standing. Oh sorry, ladies. Last person standing,” Hermes corrected himself as he placed four shots in front of each person. That was way too much hard liquor to handle. But if she did Jägermeister bombs in her sophomore year of college without any issues, this should be fairly easy.

“What are the rules?” They all looked at her in silence. No rules. No prize. Just drink.

“Oh wow.” The urge to roll her eyes and walk off came back with a force.

“I think I’m going to pass,” Annabeth said and already turned to her right.

“Why?” Helen asked innocently. “Need your man to look after you? The one who’s having an amazing time back there with his third glass of wine?”

Foul game. Annabeth’s head shot to the right. Helen was right. Percy was laughing and looked like he was having a great time chatting with Oceanus and his wife Tethys. Tethys refilled his glass as her husband and Percy broke into laughter once again.

If that’s the case…

“Fuck it, I’m in,” Annabeth agreed. She swallowed the bait and she knew it. There was no reason why she should feel upset about Percy opening up all of a sudden. He desperately needed it. Why she wished to be a part of that, Annabeth did not know.

“Great!” Helen threw her brown mane over her shoulders and grabbed the first glass.

“Για μας!” they all yelled and chugged the liquor. Gia mas, the Greek toast, was repeated every time and it seemed to brighten the mood, despite resting heavily on Annabeth’s stomach. Her college days were over, but she was glad she resisted coughing repeatedly.

Patroclus clutched his stomach after the second shot, Helen ran out after the third, Paris and Achilles were laughing maniacally after the fourth and Hermes mysteriously disappeared after the first one. Annabeth was the last person standing. She placed the crystalized shot glass back on the table and examined the messes around her. The only thing that had happened to her, were that more golden locks escaped from her bun and her lipstick needed some reapplying as she left marks on each glass.

Annabeth tried to take a step away from the table and felt how the world slightly shifted around her. The fact that she would curse and hate herself for her behavior in just six hours, was something drunk Annabeth gladly put aside. The headaches that definitely would haunt her for the rest of the trip didn’t matter, she won and that was all she cared about.

“Hell yeah!” she yelled as all inhibition faded away, leaving pure and raw life force behind. Unbeknownst to her, Annabeth had moved right into the circle of dancers.

“Perseus, get your bride before she breaks her legs!” someone laughed. Was it Iapetus? Or was it Hyperion? Who even cared at that point?

The next two hours were a blurred mess. A blackout slowly crept through her mind, leaving foggy memories behind. Annabeth felt how she was dancing with people and how people were laughing. Were they laughing at her or with her? Did it really matter? Why was her hair repeatedly slapping her face, didn’t she tie it up?

She danced with different people, men and women. She really hoped that the guy that looked like a naked Danny DeVito with longer black hair was not Zeus who had lost his shirt and pants. Who was the guy with the sea-green eyes again? Why was he clapping and laughing whenever she was busting a move next to Hermes? Was he important? Why did he remind her of work? The shots might have been a short-sighted idea after one and a half glasses of wine. She probably overestimated the amount of food she had consumed at dinner prior. Wasn’t she supposed to try someone’s moussaka?

“There you are! Ares, stop dancing with her for once. We’re about to leave.”

Ugh. Ares. Not Zeus, but still yucky.

Sea-green eyes. Percy, of course. How could she have forgotten the asshole that brought her into this whole mess? He seemed fairly sober, didn’t he have a glass or three of wine? Annabeth was certain, she’d be able to drink him under the table. His height and his build might put him at an advantage, but if he wasn’t used to drinking, she might have a fair shot.

A rock song was the next song that appeared. Percy wanted to drag Annabeth off the dance floor.

“Oh no!” Aphrodite intervened with a shrill screech. “Give the two lovers some room to show each other affection!”

Hera actually raised her glass for once to show that she actually agreed with one of Aphrodite’s wild ideas. Someone fumbled with the playlist and a Greek slow jam roared through the old speakers.

“Are you guys fucking serious?” Percy muttered under his breath. But roughly eighty pairs of eyes were all but watching the soon-to-be betrothed and waited for a romantic dance which reminded Percy more of the horrors that the eight-grade dance was.

Annabeth drunkenly hiccupped and looked at him in surprise as she felt one of his hands around her waist and the other one taking her hand. They rocked as if it was the final dance at prom. Annabeth barely remembered prom. Oh right. Her mother had forbidden her from going. She never attended prom.

A casual glimpse through the crowd showed her that people were actually filming this nonsense and some women were actually cooing. Did… did they seriously think this back and forth with sweaty clothes on was romantic? Her eyes found Percy’s again.

“So…” he began.

“So…” she repeated.

“Careful!” he warned her before twirling her through the tight circle. People screamed and applauded. A camera flash blitzed through the darkness twice.

“Oof,” Annabeth groaned. Her stomach and equilibrium did not appreciate that sudden movement.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do that again,” Percy swore. The rocking motion made both of them sleepy. Annabeth suppressed a yawn, rested her head on his shoulder. Percy could make the perfect comfy bed, if he wanted to.

Percy, sensing that people were awaiting some action from either of them, placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face up. Annabeth’s eyes widened. Is he going to kiss me in front of them? Again? her panicked brain asked. She was turned into stone, not by Percy’s distant cousin Medusa who had eaten most of the truffles, but by the tenderness of his actions. He was one solid actor.

Percy placed a soft kiss on her forehead, before moving on to a temple. Annabeth blushed and buried her heated face in his chest as he released her. Intimate, soft and sweet. The screaming relatives disrupted their comfortable silence yet again. The slow song came to an end and the next upbeat one invited everyone back to the dance floor. Annabeth released herself from Percy’s tight embrace and just bolted. Damned be nausea. A wave of coldness hit her. She felt something she didn’t like the minute Percy had softly kissed and soberness woke her at a start. What was it? Anger? Disappointment? Longing? She didn’t know and she didn’t want to know.

“Annabeth!” Percy shouted, but the amount of people standing in his way made it more difficult for him to keep up with her. His hand brushed over his own lips.

Annabeth opened and closed doors left and right. The kitchen, the dining room, the smoking room. She hasted through the first floor until she found another lost soul in the fireplace room. Why the villa had a fireplace room in the first place, she did not know. It had been super-hot the entire time but what Annabeth understood as heat and what native Greeks deemed as hot temperatures didn’t have to correlate.

Great-grandmother Gaia’s humming faded away. The eldest of the Theodoropoulos looked up from the pair of socks she was knitting. When she came to find out the intruder was Annabeth, joy spread over her face.

“Come, come!” The broken English that she softly spoke reminded Annabeth of her own grandmother. She hadn’t seen Elsbeth Lilienthal-Chase since she had left Germany. And since her mother didn’t give her a chance to say goodbye, she didn’t have a phone number to reach her with. The only way would be through that asshole Friedrich Chase, and the only time she’d willingly let someone contact that man was if she had been six feet under and he would be forced to show up for one important family event for once.

“I was unable to sleep. Parties aren’t something for me. I’m too old and boring for my children and their children,” Gaia sighed as Annabeth took a seat on the green sofa next to the light blue armchair. All of the cushioning seemed to have been made by Gaia as the socks had the same pattern as the pillow that Annabeth leaned against. Balls of wool surrounded the older woman as if she sat on a field of fresh tulips.

“Drink, drink! You need water. I’m pretty sure you danced a lot.”

Annabeth kindly took the offer, grabbed the carafe and poured herself a little bit of water into a small glass. The water was surprisingly cold and refreshing.

“My children deem me crazy,” Gaia continued. “The war with the ottomans. Deportation. Fleeing and seeing death everywhere. Losing my father in the chaos. Then the big world war after that twenty years later. They don’t want to listen to the same stories. They only want to have fun. So, they sent me away.”

Annabeth felt terrible for the old lady. It looked like she had been through hell and back in her youth. She didn’t look like she needed much, only someone to listen to her.

“I won’t bore you much,” promised Gaia.

Gaia’s tanned leathery hands continued working on the little socks. “Don’t worry about tomorrow, dearie. We have plenty of acetaminophen and other hangover remedies. Tomorrow will be even worse, because Dionysus wants to celebrate his birthday with even more wine,” the old woman laughed, and her green eyes twinkled full of life.

“I also was young once…”

The two sat in comfortable silence, only interrupted by Gaia’s humming or Annabeth refilling her glass of water.

“So,” Gaia began.

“So?” repeated Annabeth.

“You are the woman that tamed my little Perseus,” the older woman grinned.

Oh no.

Annabeth had a lump in her throat and drinking water to solve it, didn’t work. She wasn’t just lying to Zeus and his wife. She was lying to an entire clan, from the youngest to the oldest members. What Percy and she were doing wasn’t right, neither was it fair. Sure, Percy’s shitty uncle didn’t help much by forcing him to marry the next person, but did the rest of the family deserve to be deceived as well? No, they didn’t, and that truth rested heavily on Annabeth’s narrow shoulders.

The fact that Gaia looked so much like her great-grandson was crazy. They possessed the exact same shade of sea-green. It was passed onto Rhea, Percy’s grandmother, and then Poseidon, Percy’s fucked up father. Always full of intelligence and calculation. Shifting easily from delighted and full of life to the crashing anger of a storm. Power and knowledge were key features of Gaia’s eyes.

“How did you meet my sweet Perseus again?” Gaia innocently asked but Annabeth knew that there was some sort of ulterior motive behind her question.

“At work,” she honestly answered, and Gaia smiled. The old lady was able to sense the truth.

“He’s not my direct boss, but we run into each other a lot. And we hated each other from the moment we saw each other.” Annabeth remembered how she accidentally spilled her hot coffee all over his shirt. She had been public enemy number one from then on.

“He’s an excellent boss, as much as I hate to admit it. He knows his ways around and is passionate about the ocean and its inhabitants. Definitely more passionate than me, I’m just there for the money. He actually wants to make a difference. And he’s extremely annoying, might I add.”

Gaia burst into laughter and needed a minute to calm down. Annabeth cracked a toothy grin. “Ah yes, I can see how you fell in love with him.”

Doom. Uneasiness. Discomfort. The lump in Annabeth’s throat grew bigger and bigger. Why was her vision so blurry all of a sudden? She looked down at her dress. Dark dots appeared. More sprinkled across her lap as Annabeth realized she was crying.

“I’m so sorry,” Annabeth sniffled. “I… Percy… I…”

Gaia put her knitting utensils aside and set herself upright in the armchair. “Oh no, what is going on, Annabeth?”

The calming hand on her back did not help the young professional at all. No, Gaia’s honesty and curiosity made it way worse.

“Percy and I… we’re not engaged. We did it because Zeus-” Annabeth tried to confess, but Gaia brushed her off.

“It’s okay, Annabeth. I know,” the old woman smiled.

The tears that smeared her foundation or rather what was left of it ceased to fall. “You what?!”

Shock widened Annabeth’s light gray eyes.

“I knew from the minute you stepped into my house. I’m pretty sure Rhea knows as well.”

Annabeth’s jaw fell open. “B-but how?!” she stuttered and felt like an utter and complete idiot. The first few days had been rough and difficult, but now she thought that Percy and she conveyed the illusion of being a happy couple.

“You were scared of everything including him the minute you arrived,” Gaia warmly smiled. The infectious warm smile of a grandma looking out for her little chicks. Was Annabeth now one of them?

“I knew something was off with that sudden engagement of yours with the way you two behaved. Either you were pregnant, or it was a ruse. Since you are heavily drinking and paper thin, it was clear that there was no pregnancy. You young people truly don’t eat enough anymore,” Gaia shrugged, patted Annabeth’s knee and went back to knitting the sock.

“But now… it all makes sense. You do feel something for each other. Even if you are blind to it for now.” She continued to hum. “I just hope that my dear Perseus will be the young and carefree boy he was all those years ago one day again. And I do believe that you are the key in finding him hidden underneath all those layers and walls he had put up due to his father.”

Annabeth didn’t even close her mouth during the elder’s monologue. Did Gaia seriously connote that she… that Annabeth Chase… might feel something for her soon-to-be boss? Madness. Absolute madness. She took everything she had thought of the friendly old woman in front of her back. Maybe her relatives did have a point, when they decided to brush Gaia off due to her old age.

Annabeth? And feeling something for Percy? If that something was hatred and the utmost rage, absolutely yes. But… anything else? She would receive a hefty sum on her bank account and would put in her two weeks the minute she found a better job in California.

“You know… there is a tale I’d like to tell about men.”

And Annabeth would prefer to place the glass back on the table, throw the heels away, storm out and run to the next airport.

“They are stupid vapid creatures,” Gaia carried on.

Annabeth snorted behind her glass. “That is certainly true,” she agreed and earned an honest grin from Gaia.

“My dear husband Ouranos with whom I had all of my dear children decided one day that one woman was not enough. And that twelve children were not enough.”

Twelve children?! Annabeth's womb just twisted and turned in protest. The shocked expression on Annabeth’s face made Gaia chortle loudly.

“Oh yes, back in my day we were all very fruitful,” Gaia affirmed.

“That sounds horrible,” Annabeth interjected.

“Oh, only the birth part and the eighteen years after it,” the older woman dismissed her which made Annabeth in turn laugh again.

“My father was a farmer and he had one piece of advice: never let someone toy with you. You are not a doll; you are a person with morals and dignity, a person with feelings and dignity. Let no one, especially not a man, treat you like a commodity or something to kick around. Well… when dear Ouranos left me and sought our neighbor with bigger breasts… I taught him that lesson. And I did so with my father’s trusted knife that I hung on the wall afterwards.”

There was no knife displayed on the wall. It was a fucking scythe. Large, frightening, brutal. A golden great long sickle with jagged teeth rested on the wall as if it were ready to cut you up into one thousand pieces. Was there really dried blood stuck on the teeth or was Annabeth’s drunken mind making things up?

“The minute our youngest turned eighteen he took off and was never seen again. And now, should a person, in that case my Perseus, not know how to treat you properly, you know what to do,” Gaia advised and took a sip out of her own glass.

“Uh… you mean threaten to cut his genitals off with a large and sharp family heirloom?” Annabeth’s eyes widened again.

“No, dearie…” Gaia gave it some thought. “Well maybe so, dearie,” she then went on. That made Annabeth chuckle again.

“But demand absolute respect from him. Don’t ask him for it. Demand it. I don’t know how but he has dragged you into our family and expects you to play the perfect fiancé. This will eventually blow up in his face and he will drag you along with him. Teach him a lesson, however.”

“You know what? I will!” With Gaia’s official blessing, Annabeth was all smiles and scheming new plots. If the head of the family gave her the approval of kicking Percy’s ass, she definitely would.

Steps echoed in the fireplace room and Annabeth and Gaia’s heads turned to greet the intruder. They didn’t even realize the door opened and closed again.

Gaia’s younger twin who still had some black streaks in the braids marched into the hall, curious about what the two women in front of her were previously talking about. Gaia’s youngest daughter Rhea had joined them. The large blue floral dress made her seem like she never left the late 1960s and the two long braids only added to that sentiment.

“Mamá, what is going on? By the way Percy is looking for you, Annabeth,” Rhea informed her grandson’s alleged fiancé before taking a seat in front of her and grabbing one of the many balls of yarn in front of her mother. Rhea then went on to play with it as if she was a six-year old.

“Oh no, Rhea, Annabeth and I were just chatting about love and life,” Gaia batted her eyelashes.

“You see, I gave Rhea the same advice about her disgraceful husband when he went out to seek another woman.”

Rhea rolled her eyes behind the large pentagonally glasses. “You and your stories about the scythe, mother,” she sighed.

“I have to make sure the younger generation knows!” Gaia huffed. “I won’t be here for much longer and then-”

“We'll regret all the things we’ve said and done to you, I know mamá, you have been telling me this since I was four years old and spilled my apple juice,” Rhea completed her mother’s sentence.

Rhea’s attention shifted to the smiling blonde in front of her. She grew to like Percy’s fiancé. She had a fire within herself and a backbone, all great things to handle a Theodoropoulos man.

“But my mother is right when she says that the scythe is a trusted tool. Zeus, Poseidon and Hades did scare Kronos with it after he tried some foul things with their sisters. Treated them worse. Did overall horrible things. He never wanted daughters, only sons. Didn’t seem to accept the fact that it was out of my hand.” Rhea squished the ball of light blue yarn in her hand.

“My children were always looking out for me and I will be forever grateful for them. I do hope that you will have the same feelings and love for your children.” It was clear who their father was supposed to be.

“Yes, I hope so as well,” Annabeth squeaked. Did it get hotter in here all of a sudden?

The door opened, and a worried Percy stepped into the fireplace room. “Oh, there you are,” he sighed as he immediately sighted Annabeth’s blonde unruly curls. He had been running from the basement all the way to the roof searching for her. Relief washed over his face like some shower gel from a cheap commercial. Only then did he realize that Annabeth had been cornered by both his nosy grandmother and his even nosier great-grandmother.

“Whatever they’ve been telling you, it’s a lie, it’s wrong and it never happened!” he warned her as he took a seat right next to her.

“Oh please, relax,” Rhea rolled her eyes and threw the wool at her grandson. “We have been talking about mamá’s scythe.”

“Hey!” both Percy and Gaia complained. At least they hadn’t dished out embarrassing stories of him taking off in diapers at night.

“This is expensive! You young people show no respect towards others' belongings,” Gaia cursed.

Annabeth took the blue yarn and placed it back on top of the pyramid of other colors.

“Thank you!” Gaia smiled before she focused on finishing the sock.

“You’ve found your fiancé, Perseus. Now go off back to celebrate and let us old people reminisce about the past and talk.” Rhea lazily waved at them whilst Gaia didn’t even look up from her craft.

“We will,” Percy said while getting up and casually dragging Annabeth along. He kissed both Gaia and Rhea on the cheek, Annabeth threw a hasty “See you in the morning!” over her shoulder before the couple left.

“Are you okay?” Percy asked as he pulled Annabeth aside for a small breather.

She nodded. “It’s just a bit overwhelming with the amount of people that either want to take pictures of us, hope I remember when their youngest kid’s birthday is, or they tell me they hope we have our first baby preferably in less than a year.”

Percy blushed. He didn’t think it was that bad, but then again, men are mostly left out of the baby talk until their mother’s saw that their best friend’s children had their first grandbaby. He truly didn’t have any intention of having a child before the age of forty. He had to save a business from his damned uncle, run and manage said business and preferably find a woman he tolerated enough to marry before he could even think of children.

Percy apologized again. “One week,” he promised her.

“One week,” Annabeth repeated and nodded.

“We’re going in, you’ve missed the high of the party with your talk with my yai yai, but that’s perfectly fine. The first have already left, let’s just mingle for ten minutes or so before we can-”

The door flung open. “There they are!” yelled Hermes who was followed by Zephyrus and Hercules.

None of them had any intention of letting the party stop before five in the morning. It was merely two. The minute Hermes had his sights on Annabeth, he knew that he had found his best drinking buddy aside from Dionysus himself. Oh no, Annabeth thought and rightfully so.

The minutes of calmness and rest next to Gaia did their wonders because Percy and she were thrust back into the party at full force. She didn’t exactly remember when the blackout happened, but it was roughly thirty minutes later. She was drinking, she was dancing, she was completely making a fool out of herself. The hair? A mess. Annabeth herself? Don’t even think about it. She had been dancing with Hermes and Patroclus, Aphrodite accidentally stepped on her foot one time when Ares approached her.

Percy broke his own promise and accepted a fourth glass of wine from Dionysus who insisted on it. That glass was his doom. The last droplet touched his tongue and his world turned into a flashy mist, his consciousness was broken into pieces, fragmented and sprinkled across the floor. Where he was, when he was and who he was were things he couldn’t remember. The only thing that popped up in his mind were waves of solid gold. Was it hair? Could hair truly move like that and possess that texture? And a whiff of lemon with a hint of lavender crawled up his nose. It was an odd combination, but it felt safe and like home. He liked this smell. Where did he smell this before?

Percy didn’t care, he had other matters to attend to. The first thing on the docket was finding the bathroom, he had drunk way too much. The house had weird rules in regard to bathrooms. Was it the left side or the right side that the young men could use? Why did his uncle Hades have to break two sinks in a span of a week when he was sixteen again? Why were women and others allowed to do whatever they wanted? His great-grandma and her weird plans were always set to make him fail somehow. Things that she had thought of decades ago still bore fruit today.

Percy stumbled upstairs and turned right and prayed the doors he was opening were empty bathrooms and not relatives making out. That was just what he needed. The first door he opened was of his great-uncle Oceanus and Tethys who had a face mask on her face and pink curlers up her hair. At least the old people still knew how to behave. He hoped his mother had left the party hours ago. He apologized and closed the door. The next one was an empty bedroom, his even maybe. No, his bedroom was on an entirely different floor. Or was it?

The next bedroom was closed off thank god, but from the sounds on the inside it seemed like cousin Eos and her newest catch Orion had some fun. Disgusting, Percy thought before he moved on. The next door was what he was looking for. A bathroom. Lit up, clean and empty. Empty if it wasn’t for this one woman who was clutching the brims of the polished sink. She was tall, the golden hair equaled a rat nest and her red dress seemed to have witnessed a lot.

“Ugh,” she muttered and looked into the mirror. Her eyes found his immediately.

“Percy?” she turned around.

Oh right. He was Percy Jackson, thirty-one, single, hopefully the new CEO of Atlantic INC., he had a fantastic apartment in the Upper East Side with an amazing view and he was in Greece to impress his family with his fake fiancé in order to secure his father’s legacy. His fake fiancé being Annabeth Chase, a woman he loathed, had to pay a little hush money and hoped would leave the company fairly soon after.

“You’re in the men’s restroom,” Percy then stated.

Annabeth looked around. No, it was not the same bathroom she used in the morning. Oh yeah, Gaia’s weird bathroom rules.

“Honestly who cares?” the junior marketing manager complained. “A toilet’s a toilet, no matter who uses it.”

Percy shrugged. Annabeth had a point but it wasn’t their house so they couldn’t dictate the rules.

“I wanted to retouch my makeup, but I didn’t find my makeup bag.” She walked steadily to Percy, but it was clear to both of them that she had her fair amount of shots in her system.

“Yeah, it’s probably in the other bathroom. Wait, let me use the bathroom for a second and then we can head back to our room and you can look for your makeup.”

Annabeth nodded and waited on the outside while Percy was tending his business. After drying his hands, he opened the door and found Annabeth yawning in front of one of his yai yai’s paintings. It showed the scythe from the fireplace.

“In all honesty, your great-grandmother is an amazing woman. I admire her. Showing kindness and strength each day. How old is she?”

“Turning 106 next October,” Percy smiled at her. “She always said she wanted to live long enough to see her favorite descendants find their own happiness, whatever it may be.”

The softness in his voice made Annabeth’s heart ache. She turned her head back to the painting. She was a nobody. She had no family, no traditions she could upkeep. She didn’t even have a steady relationship in the past five years. Fucking Luke Castellan. He also had to take that from her as well. Make her suffer. That’s what Athena, Friedrich and Luke all thought at the same time. And they all had nearly reached their wicked goal if it hadn’t been for her stubbornness and will to eventually blossom into something else. The first step towards that something else resided within her move to California. She wanted to leave everything and everyone behind and start a new life, somewhere where no one knew her.

A thumb brushed over her cheek. Annabeth looked up to Percy. She hadn’t even realized she was sobbing again.

“Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay,” Percy assured her. His hands found her sides, pulling her into a soft hug.

A true fiancé level hug. Annabeth had never felt that comfortable within a man’s reach. Percy might have been an awful and annoying coworker, but he truly cared about his fellow people. The way they slowly rocked and kept hugging each other reminded her of the school dance work they had put on the floor earlier. But this time it was real. This time there was no one taking pictures or yelling into their ears, or the demand to see a kiss.

Annabeth rested her face in his chest and Percy leaned his head on hers. It was like they had been made for each other. A welcoming scent greeted Percy. Lemon and lavender. The person stuck in Percy’s crumbled mind had been Annabeth. She was his anchor in the havoc his relatives had created in such a short time. He took a deeper breath. It felt reassuring.

“Did you just sniff me?” Annabeth laughed as she pulled away from him.

“You do smell good!” he defended himself with a stupid grin on his mouth.

“Oh, wait you’re super drunk,” she giggled again as she saw his widened pupils that had pushed the darkened sea-green iris away.

“Well, look at you,” he retorted.

They looked at each other. Aside from the bumping music and the noises people made downstairs it had been completely silent. He missed her warmth; she missed his comfort. Neither would have guessed that a simple embrace could offer so much. Neither would have thought they would take it to the next step within a split second.

One last look. A last time sea-green and light-gray met before each set of eyes closed and their lips met with a brutal force in the middle. Their teeth clacked but it didn’t matter to them. What mattered now, was the moment. Forgotten was the alcohol, forgotten were the troubles of past, present and future. Forgotten were the friends and relatives in the building and back in New York.

So... what do you think? 😄 Like I said, this is not the entire chapter 🤷🏾‍♀️ I honestly feel bad for cutting the chapter off because it's really getting more interesting from that point on 💁🏾‍♀️ I'll probably continue working on this once I've published the next act of The Fool 🥳

Also Greek people, if something seems off with this (aside from random English at times lol) hit me up, I definitely have to do more research!

[hmslusitania]

4 and 57 for buck and eds

4. Coffee Shop AU + 57. Forgotten First Meeting

Okay this one’s gonna get a little goofy (because I just wrote two very ungoofy ones in a row) also this does not take place in the canon timeline

Because it’s not one (1) forgotten first meeting. No, it’s like. five.

While he’s searching for himself after he flees Pennsylvania, Buck ends up working as a barista in addition to a bartender

He’s in Virginia Beach, staffing a local coffee shop when the hands down hottest guy Buck has ever seen in person comes in

And he’s hot but frazzled -- visiting his wife’s (Buck groans, internally only) aunt and the in-laws are not a walk in the park

you know that one post that goes around?

the guy who came into a Dunkin’ and ordered one small black coffee with a shot of blueberry syrup?

the order of a perfectly normal man with something wrong inside of him?

Eddie is That Guy

(but it’s not blueberry syrup because that’s an abomination)

(...the real reason Eddie fears the Hildy coffee maker (well, the additional reason) is because of his absolutely bananas preferred way to drink coffee and he doesn’t want Her to know)

Anyway, so, Buck makes this absolutely gorgeous, specimen of a -- married, wife is pregnant -- man his deeply fucked up black coffee with a shot of mango syrup and they go their separate ways

Until like. two years later

When Buck is working in a coffee shop in, idk, Ocean Shores, OR

and the hottest guy he’s ever seen in his entire life walks in

(Buck’s dudebro “totally straight haha no homo” coworker has an entire crisis of sexuality about it)

(Buck ends up dating the coworker for like two months; the coworker comes out of it very, very gay; Buck...leaves the state)

ANYWAY, the hottest guy Buck has ever seen, with messy hair and just the right amount of stubble, but he’s older than the last time Buck saw him so he doesn’t recognise him right off the bat.

Turns out, having a tiny baby between the ages of zero and two will age you -- from the exhaustion alone, if nothing else

And then Eddie orders that coffee.

Buck makes it for him, but he doesn’t feel good about it because dear god man why and then Eddie leaves back to whatever work trip/family vacation/thing he’s on

Buck tries very hard not to think too hard about it

Until, y’know, a year later. When he’s working at a coffee shop/bar attached to a bookstore in Boseman, MT

The cowboy season ended (...there are seasons for those right?) and he didn’t want to leave the state yet because he likes the big sky over the continental divide, so he fell back into his traditional bar/coffee thing

This time, the hottest guy he’s ever seen is accompanied by the most adorable three year old Buck has ever seen, and they’re there at the bookstore to get Christopher some new picture books for their trip, and some hot chocolate while they’re at it

and coffee, abominable, black coffee with mango syrup in it, for dad

This time, Buck finally gets the guy’s name, because there’s a queue and it’s gonna take him a minute to get to Eddie and Christopher’s drinks.

The fourth time, Buck is in El Paso, TX.

it’s Eddie by himself and he is even more frazzled than he was in Virginia Beach when he was a newlywed hot off a shotgun wedding with a baby on the way and his wife’s annoying aunt in tow.

Buck bites back the impulse to razz him about his coffee order (because my dude, what the fuck are you drinking?) because it’s clear Eddie has bigger shit to deal with

if the way he keeps worrying at his wedding ring until the skin around it on his finger is inflamed and sore-looking is any indication, anyway

It’s another two years before Buck runs into him again and this time they’re in LA

This time, Buck clocks him on his way in the door and checks his finger

that worrisome wedding ring is gone

there’s not even a tan line anymore

Buck has Eddie’s coffee ready to hand over the second Eddie reaches the till.

Eddie, understandably, is like “uh...?”

And Buck, unable to help it, “Here you go, Eddie. Enjoy!”

His phone number is scrawled on the side of the cup, because, like, honestly? He just Really wants to know what the fuck is up with his coffee order

and Eddie calls him because he wants to know why Buck knows his name and his coffee order despite this having been Eddie’s first time to the café

It takes Buck at least three dates to convince Eddie that the coffee shop does not have an AI scanner in the doorway that tells the baristas the customers’ names and orders before they reach the counter

There are Other mashups

[jimblejamblewritings]

falling for the captain | part 11.

Summary: Captain Y/N L/N. Leader of the Avengers on Earth-563, not really a family or team strictly just coworkers. A lot of responsibility for someone only nineteen. What happens when the Captain finds herself on “Earth Earth” in the compound of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Stuck on Earth for the time being, Y/N sees what these Avengers are about. And Captain America finds himself falling for this leader, even though her age is throwing him… that and the fact no one knows if she’ll head back to Earth-563 the minute she can.

Warnings: AGE GAP (clear from the summary, it’s a young reader but legal), slight smut

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Word Count: 4.0k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

Nearly the whole team was in the gym for training, you were doing yoga with Nat for flexibility, when Tony and Bruce busted in.

“We did it! Project Beetle. The poison compound, the vaccine. We have it all!” Bruce said excitedly.

“Tell Nick. We’re going to be moving fast now. They’ll probably roll us out in a week,” Steve commanded.

Bruce and Tony nodded before walking out. This was a breakthrough and maybe after the breakthrough you guys would get a real break. Fighting was your thing so you would never stay away for long but you really wanted a vacation for the team, like the farm but longer than a week. Training was pretty much over once Tony and Bruce told you guys they solved it.

You changed into your own clothes for once. Of course, Steve’s clothes were always your favorite but you had your own style and it’s not like Rogers owned any dresses or cute shorts— although if you were wearing a skirt or shorts you’d probably still steal his shirt.

You were sitting on the counter talking to Peter about MIT and his excitement at his acceptance. You both were happy however you knew he wouldn’t always be available for missions and almost nightly movie watching would be relegated to the weekend when he came home to the compound.  

“So what did you major when you were in college?”

“You’re going to laugh when you hear it.”

“I promise I won’t,” Peter said as he handed you a grape popsicle from the freezer, he took a blue raspberry.

“Double major in Early Childhood Education…”

“And?”

“Acting.”

“That’s cool. Would you go back? Finish I mean.”

“You know after being stuck here I never considered. Maybe, I’ll probably take summer classes. Or I’ll just come and annoy you at MIT.”

“You know what, don’t go back to college.”

You and Peter laughed. You both switched popsicles, not the most sanitary but you did it anyway. The rest of the team watched from the couches. At first, they wondered how Steve kept his jealousy in check when it came to how close you and Peter were. Steve would be lying if he said it never bothered him at first but after your first discussion about movie night he came to see that to you Peter was a brother. Like Bucky or Sam.

And not once did Steve ever feel bothered about the closeness you had with Sam and Bucky so why should he with Peter just because he was younger? However, he was happy that you and Peter started joining the team occasionally for movie nights as long as you two got to pick the movie.

The popcorn finished popping and Peter poured it into a bowl. He grabbed two more popsicles for the two of you and you guys made your way to the couches. You took your spot on Steve’s lap while complaining that you were cold.

“If you wore real clothes and stopped eating popsicles maybe you wouldn’t have this problem.”

“You know what, Sam. Ain’t no one ask for your opinion.”

“Next time don’t complain out loud,” he joked as he threw a blanket and pillow at you.

You turned a little in Steve’s arms before the movie started so you could see him slightly. It felt nice to be able to do couple stuff around the rest of the team. You offered him the popsicle but he shook his head so you turned back around and continued to eat it. The movie was Peter’s choice and was Saw. It wasn’t on Earth-563 so it was a new movie series to you.

Steve looked around the room. Everyone was lounging about, some cuddled up, and focused on the movie. He was too, partly. The other part was focused on you licking your fingers clean of any melted popsicle. You jumped and grabbed the pillow when a jump scare happened. Natasha, who was getting a second bowl of popcorn, noticed as she sat back down on the floor near Wanda and Clint.

“Like the movie, (Y/N)?” she asked.

“Yeah, act like you didn’t see that.”

“Short-stack doesn’t do horror?”

“I like horror, but jump scares still mess with me. Just ignore my screams from the corner.”

Everyone chuckled and returned to focusing on the movie. You readjusted so you could hold onto the pillow and keep the blanket covering you and Steve. Steve’s hands were rubbing your thighs. It started off as a way to calm you after the jump scare but then his fingers brushed the hem of your dress. You tried to contain your gasps as he gently rubbed circles over your underwear. Most didn’t notice your gasps, except for the only other super soldier in the room.

“Reach for the popcorn right now if you don’t want this,” Steve whispered in your ear.

You didn’t do anything.

“Okay, baby. Then be quiet unless you want everyone to know how dirty you are getting off on my fingers while we watch a movie.”

You clutched the pillow a little tighter, mainly to make sure that Steve’s minuscule hand movements couldn’t be seen, while he moved his hands underneath your panties.

“What do we say, baby?”

“Yes, Captain,” you whispered.

The heat rose to your face when Bucky stood up coughing and saying he needed to get water from the kitchen. Steve just smirked as he walked away. He kept going till you were close and suddenly it was all gone. Steve just smiled as he wiped his fingers on your skirt and went back to the movie like nothing happened. You turned to look at him, he pecked your lips. You realized what was happening the second time he did it. He would always tell you to do something if you didn’t want it anymore and when you let him know it was okay his fingers found their way to your heat. Steve was edging you the whole movie. When the movie ended you announced you were over the scary movie night and were calling it a day.

“It’s not even late,” Wanda said.

“I’m tired and don’t want to be scared again, goodnight.”

They all said their good nights and Steve followed you to your room soon after. You grabbed at his collar and pulled him in for a kiss.

“And you have the nerve to say I play dirty, Rogers.”

The ride in the quinjet was silent but drummed with energy. You were on your way to the main headquarters of Project Beetle. With the compounds and incriminating receipts, S.H.I.E.L.D. gave you guys the go ahead to end Project Beetle. If some of the poison managed to slip out they had a vaccine. So you guys were there to kill the last factory and arrest everyone you could.

Like always, you and Steve shared headphones. You weren’t playing a game with Peter this time. He was reading to try and keep himself calm and focused. Steve slipped your bracelet off his wrist and back onto yours so you now had all four kimoyo beads on your person.

“Hey, Steve?”

“Yes, (Y/N).”

“Would it be too forward if I asked to move in with you…to your room?”

Sam and Natasha smiled as they watched:

They had caught you pacing back and forth on the balcony holding Tony. You had set Tony on the table and crouched to the his level.

“So you see my problem? What should I do?”

The chicken just clucked.

“I need more than just spit it out Short-stack.”

The chicken clucked again. Natasha made her and Sam’s presence known.

“So can you actually speak to animals because first the cat and now a chicken. Also where did you get the chicken?”

“It’s Tony.”

“You stole Clint’s chicken?” Sam raised an eyebrow at you.

“I borrowed the chicken for advice.” You opened a portal back to the farm and patted the chicken on the butt until he walked into it.

“You always go to the chicken for advice?”

“Helped me kiss Steve.”

“So you do speak chicken?”

You rolled your eyes. You started to walk away but Sam stopped you.

“We saw you pacing. Need help, kid. Human help?”

“He’s gonna say no. It’s going to make our relationship weird.”

“You want to move in with him?” Once again, Nat was right on the money.

“I was going to ask you the same thing. You’re practically in my room every night anyway, wanted you to move in after the mission,” Steve said.

You both smiled at each other. Sam and Natasha, who weren’t even pretending to not be listening, gave you a thumbs up.

The fight started the minute the quinjet landed. The team had never seen you and Steve in action as an established duo and while they were occupied with their own fights, they snuck glances at you two when they could. Steve would fight before throwing the shield, knocking out a few guys while it passed underneath your feet and charged you up. You would open a portal so the shield would fly through it and back into Steve’s hand.

“(Y/N)! Peter!” Steve called to you.

You looked to see a bunch of guards ganging up on him. You ran at Steve’s shield. He knocked out a guard with the shield before bracing himself as you stepped on the shield. He pushed you off of it and you went flying with lightning sparking at your hands and feet. You landed and began to help Peter.

The upper levels had the most guards and it started to dwindle as you guys traveled downwards. You were fighting less people and throwing more of them through portals to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s holding cells. Natasha and Bruce separated from the rest of the group in order to recover any last bits of information from the computers and wipe them completely. The rest of you continued on to the main lab and meeting room. There were a few guards in the meeting room but Sam and Tony took them out no problem. You were opening portals as the rest of the Avengers threw people in your direction to the holding cells.

Until you spotted him in the back. Right next to Senator Lance Bolton, who was being dragged towards you by Clint, was Abel Bolton. You weren’t even looking at Clint when you opened the portal for him. The team watched as you stalked towards Abel Bolton who was wearing a stupid smirk on his face.

“Miss Mitchell, or should I say Captain (L/N)? I was so hoping we could go on a second date but this might put our plans on hold. Shame. I was looking for another night, with you to keep me warm.”

You lunged at him. No one moved as you hit him. You punched Abel like he was a punching bag in the gym. You spared him nothing, treating him like he was Steve or Bucky, someone who could actually take your hits. Eventually Abel’s face was becoming more bloodied by the second.

“She’s gonna kill him,” Tony said as they watched.

Steve watched as your knuckles started to bleed a little. He grabbed you around the waist and pulled you to his back until you were off of Abel. Hot tears fell down your face as Steve shushed you.

“I know, doll, I know. But we need him alive.”

Without a glance, you opened a portal for somebody to throw the scumbag through. You opened the portal for everyone to go home. Steve sat you on the counter and took out a first aid kit. Bucky took over, mentioning he was used to cleaning up you and Steve’s injuries back in the 40s.

“You good Lucky Lou?”

“I’m fine, Buck. What time is it?”

“7 pm.”

“Oh good, she should still be in. I think I’m going to go see Dr. Lin for a session. Captain, can you take Goose outside for her walk.”

Steve’s jaw didn’t clench this time. You weren’t calling him for anything kinky. Captain. You needed someone to be in control while you weren’t. He was a constant. Steve gently kissed your forehead and muttered of course. Your hands were shaking and not just from the extra charge of the fight. Silently, Steve removed your kimoyo beads and slipped them on his wrists. He grabbed both your hands until you were looking at him. Steve kissed your hands.

“Go see the doctor. Goose and I will be in our room when you get back.”

You hopped down from the counter and walked towards the elevator.

~~

Steve and Goose were lying on the bed when you came back. Steve held out the beads for you but you shook your head still not relaxed enough to put them on.

“I cleared out half the closet and drawers for you.”

“Thank you. Do we think we can find a place for my armchair?” Steve could hear the exhaustion in your voice.

“Yeah. I’ll just move the desk a little.”

“Okay. I’m going to take a bath.”

You slowly shuffled to the bathroom. Steve left Goose on the bed. Bucky caught him carrying your stuff to his room. He smiled at Steve before retreating to his room to get ready for a date. Steve wasn’t sure how you’d organize your stuff and he imagined you’d probably change it later but he put it up for now just so everything would be put away.

You came out of the bathroom pleasantly surprised to see your armchair was already in the room, Steve’s shield in it and the Basotho blanket that T’Challa and Shuri gave you was draped over it. Steve was nowhere to be found at the moment, just Goose who meowed from your chair. You changed and sat down in the chair, wrapping yourself in the blanket. You felt calmer and realized the blanket had vibranium woven through it. You moved Steve’s shield so it was more to the side and you could lean on it like a hard pillow. He came back in with a warm drink for you. Steve sat on the edge of the bed, facing you.

“Dr. Lin wasn’t too thrilled I hurt my hands. But she says I did good, not shutting down… I still don’t think she gets me beating him up but she said the anger was better than nothing.”

“That’s good, (Y/N). I’m glad you went to her.”

“Me too,” you said before taking a sip. “Thank you for being patient.”

“It’s nothing.”

“No, it’s a lot. It can be a lot and I know that. Thank you for being patient with me, Steve. I love you. Seriously.”

“I love you too, (Y/N).”

You two sipped on your drinks in silence. When you finished, Steve turned off most of the lights to go to bed. You stayed up for a bit to read before leaving your armchair. When you got up and slipped into bed, Steve turned over and wrapped an arm around you.

~~

Vacation actually came. Nick agreed that you all deserved two or three weeks off. Anything S.H.I.E.L.D. found would be handled by agents— bar an alien invasion maybe. So you guys were leaving the compound and the city for a five hour drive to the Cape Cod area of Massachusetts.

With a lot of you, there were five cars. You, Steve, Shuri, Peter, Sam, and Bucky in one car. Tony’s car held him, Rhodey, Pepper, Thor, Happy, and Bruce. Vision was with Wanda, T’Challa, Okoye and her husband W’Kabi, and Nakia. And Clint was driving with his family and Natasha. You were glad the Wakandans managed to take a break and come with you, but they could only stay for a week.

You could’ve portaled everyone there or taken the quinjet but everyone thought a good old-fashioned road trip would be fun. Your car was slowly regretting that decision— you, Shuri, and Peter were driving them up a wall with your music. Currently, Sam was driving and, even though Bucky was in the passenger’s seat, Shuri took control of the aux cord. It had started off calm until Fall Out Boy and Panic! At the Disco came on. The songs weren’t bad. It was the three of you screaming them at the top of your lungs. The three older men breathed a sigh of relief when you, Peter, and Shuri had passed out. It wouldn’t last long and they knew it but they accepted the quiet while it lasted.

“Were we that bad at their age?” Sam asked as he turned down the volume.

Like they predicted, the quiet didn’t last long. The minute the cars pulled into the gas station for a refuel, you guys woke up. After filling with gas, your car parked at the spots in front of the station so as not to block other cars. People went to the bathroom and got snacks. The gas station was playing “Gasolina” by Daddy Yankee.

“Bust a move, Pete!”

You and Shuri laughed at Peter’s surprisingly decent twerk skills. You filmed him and wouldn’t delete the footage, locking your phone before Peter could grab it from you. You piled back into the car for the final two hours, Steve driving and you in the passenger seat. The last thing anyone in the car was prepared for was the fact that not only did Steve know who Lady Gaga and Beyonce were, but that he listened to their music. But the other passengers were watching you and Steve perfectly sing “Telephone”. First thing Peter did, pull out his phone and record— not that Steve and you noticed.

The car rolled to a stop in front of the beach houses that were rented for the weeks. They were huge houses so you guys only rented three and split people accordingly. Everyone that wasn’t coupled were in bunk beds and shared rooms. The houses were right next to each other, back porches facing each other.

~~

“I want a picture of all the couples!” Tony called out.

He handed a camera to Happy. You joined the group photo, jumping onto Steve’s back. It took several tries for the photo— people claiming they didn’t look good every picture. Finally, you got a picture everyone was satisfied with.

“Someone tan with me,” Natasha said as she stretched out on a towel.

“Well I think that counts all of us out,” T’Challa said, making you laugh. However he and Nakia sat down with Nat anyway.

You played beach volleyball with Steve and Clint’s kids. He loved his family but Clint and Laura gladly dumped the children with Uncle Steve and Aunty (Y/N) for at least an hour. Despite being on vacation, there was still team dinner every night. Not that anyone was complaining. The thunder clap scared everyone.

“Damn, I was looking forward to a night on the boardwalk,” Rhodey said as he looked out the window.

You just smiled. You grabbed your bracelet from Steve and stood up from the table. Everyone looked at you in confusion when you opened the porch door. You stood outside but only the thunder was clapping, you turned around.

“Thor? Can you do something about that?”

“You want the lightning?”

“Need to show you guys a trick.”

Thor stood up to help you. His lightning alone didn’t charge you up, it had to be from a natural source but he could help jump start the sky. The others jumped up in surprise when they watched the first strike hit your hand but nothing happened. You waited until more strikes aimed at you. When you came back inside, your hair was sparking and both eyes were purple.

“Who wants a mini trip to my hometown?”

~~

Steve dropped in the bed next to you.

“Earth-563 wasn’t as different as I thought it would be.”

“I’m not an alien Steve.”

“I know, still thought it would be a whole lot more different. I mean you haven’t heard of half the things we have here.”

“Are you still holding the fact that you knew Beyonce before me over my head? Because I thought we established—”

Steve kissed you to shut you up. You pulled away before kissing him one more time and turning to a comfortable sleep position.

~~

The club scene in Cape Cod wasn’t the same as the club scene in New York. For one, it wasn’t some jumping high-packed club. It was more of a bar with a nice space for a dance-floor and the occasional karaoke night. The team had split between a boardwalk night and going to the club (Clint and Laura having no choice with young children but to choose the boardwalk).

While being an Avenger got you Peter, and Shuri into the club, it couldn’t get you drinks at the bar. So the three of you drank sodas, happy to at least be in. Getting ID’d was still something you weren’t used to on Earth-Earth. You enjoyed cheering on the drunk and tipsy as they sang their hearts out to songs out of their vocal range.

The club scene in Cape Cod? Different but good. And even better when the DJ came back from a break. Shuri was up the minute “Single Ladies” came on. For someone who lived in Wakanda, she absolutely loved American pop culture.

“Sorry, not exactly a single lady.”

“For three minutes you can be.” Shuri pulled on your arm.

You shrugged and got up. “It’s not me Steve, the song requires it. Our relationship will truly be missed.”

He laughed as you handed him your soda and joined Shuri. Soon, Peter joined when “Soulja Boy” came on and after “Electric Slide” naturally Sam and Rhodey had to join. Nakia, T’Challa, Steve, Bucky, and Wanda only joined when you pulled them over promising that the Cupid Shuffle literally says what to do in the song.

And then you, Sam, and Rhodey’s eyes lit up upon the opening notes of “September”. Even Shuri, American pop culture extraordinaire, wasn’t prepared. The only other person who knew what was going on as the dance floor cleared into two lines was Peter because well he lived in New York and his best friends were Ned and MJ, how would he not know. It didn’t take long for the others to understand the concept of a Soul Train line.

“No, no, (Y/N).”

You were trying to pull Steve along as you got closer to your turn going down the line.

“You don’t have to dance well, Rogers. Just groove on down the train. Come on, old man.”

He caved, when it came to you Steve would always cave. You cheered him on as he went with you. The cheerful atmosphere continued even as the songs died down into slower, calmer songs. Eventually, some songs from the 40s came on. Bucky and Steve looked over to the DJ who gave them a wink and raised a glass.

“Doll, would you like to go dancing?”

“I expect you to sweep me off my feet, Captain Rogers.”

The others watched from the bar. It was like the bar had gone back in time for those few moments. You and Steve swayed and twirled to the music. Steve looked at you in the dim light. The box braids you had gotten for vacation framed your face. Yeah, you were his sun and he knew it. He leaned in to kiss you. The others watched the slight spark of your hair as your lips met his.

(Part 12)...

[lovelucybradford]

All I Want For Christmas Is You

Christmas+Chenford+Fake Engagement= what could be better?

A/N: Thank you so much for all of your likes and reblogs on my first Chenford fic, Nothing Safe is Worth the Drive. You are so kind :)

Summary:

Lucy has a problem-- Jackson may or may not have told her overbearing family over Thanksgiving dinner that she's in love with Tim Bradford.

Tim has a problem-- He may or may not have told Isabel that he's moved on with someone else after she announces her elopement with a former coworker.

By some crazy twist of fate (or more likely Lucy's mother), Tim and Lucy are forced to spend the holidays with Lucy's extended family.

A romantic, weeklong Christmas vacation in New York City-- what could go wrong?

*Season 4 AU- Jackson is alive and playing matchmaker. Ashley never happened.

“Hey, thanks so much for coming,” Lucy murmured, voice barely a whisper above the cheery holiday music coming from the speakers of her Impala, an attempt to give her mind something else to focus on rather than the impending hell she’d have to endure tonight.

How many times had she thanked her best friend in the last 45 minutes? Too many, judging by Jackson’s good-natured eyeroll that she couldn’t miss despite keeping her eyes firmly trained on the familiar backroads.

“After I saw you stress eat a whole ass pizza in one sitting last night, I couldn’t let you go alone. Besides, you said your grandma sent over a bottle of Baijiu from Hong Kong. I love that shit.”

Lucy snorted. Jackson had been obsessed with the Chinese vodka since he’d tried a shot from the bottle that Maa Maa had included in her 29th birthday care package. He’d practically finished off the whole bottle within the week. Lucy didn’t mind, though. She didn’t care much for the liquor.

“Well, I’m sure my dad will bring it out again tonight. My prodigal cousin is coming to California for Thanksgiving and apparently she has something huge to celebrate.” Lucy took a hand off the wheel for a one-word air quote around the word huge.

Knowing Victoria, her huge news was probably something like—

Jackson interrupted her thought with an eerily similar idea. “What? She got a boob job? Lip fillers? Oh, I know! She decided to go full Kim K and get ass implants!”

This time, Lucy actually had to laugh. Despite only meeting Lucy’s younger cousin once, he had her down to a tee.

Victoria was smart, no doubt. She’d beat Lucy out on an acceptance to Columbia in New York. Instead of a career in psychology, however, Tori had chosen a respectable position in law.

(Which had been a highly contentious debate between Lucy and her parents last Thanksgiving—why would she choose a career as lowly as law enforcement when she could be an attorneylike her cousin? Yeah, screw that.)

But as smart as Victoria was, she was equally as caught up in the glitz and glamour of the New York lifestyle. Every time Lucy saw her, she’d had some new plastic surgery enhancement, desperate to look younger, even though she was only 27.

Tamara popped her head out from the backseat so suddenly that Lucy would have jumped in surprise if she wasn’t trained to expect the unexpected on the daily.

Lucy anticipated her question and beat her to it with a “No, we’re not there yet. Go back to sleep.”

The teenager scoffed. “Thank you, but I wasn’t going to ask that question.”

Jackson leaned his head against the passenger side window, muttering into his open palm. “What a surprise! It’s not like you’ve been asking every 10 minutes since we left.”

Tamara just smacked Jackson on the back of the head in response. Lucy raised her brows at both of them through the rearview mirror, daring them to continue acting like petulant children.

“Anyways,” Tamara huffed an annoyed sigh, forever one with a flair for the dramatics, “What I was going to ask before I was so rudely interrupted is: why are you so nervous about spending the holidays with your parents? I used to love family time with my parents—when they were, you know, sober.”

Jackson sunk lower into his seat, the belt covering half his face. “God, don’t get her started.”

Now it was Lucy’s turn to whack Jackson.

He stared at her, wide eyed and mouth open in mock offense. “Why is it ‘Pick on Jackson’ day? Rude.”

Lucy ignored his remark.

“Every Thanksgiving that I’ve spent with my family since I dropped out of grad school has been literal hell. A few years back, my mom ‘conveniently’ forgot to mention to my uncle that I’m vegan, and the only thing I could eat that night was green beans. The holiday after that, my parents gave me an application to UCLA’s Psychology program as a Christmas present. And last year, well…”

Lucy paused, not willing to relive that memory anytime soon.

Tamara leaned in closer. Lucy had the thought to yell at her about not wearing a seatbelt, but she wasn’t Tamara’s mother, and the girl was (almost) a legal adult.

“Well…” Tamara replied after she got tired of Lucy’s silence, urging her to continue.

Lucy took a long breath. “Last year, with Covid and everything, it was just me and my parents, who took it as the perfect opportunity to lecture me about my job and my relationship status. ‘Why did you ever let Ryan go, Lucy? You could have a husband and a few kids by now. Instead, you’re off arresting people and getting shot at.”

“Wait—who’s Ryan, and why have I never heard about him?”

Jackson perked up a little at this, eager to talk shit about the man that broke Lucy’s heart. “Ryan, also known as ‘He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’, was Lucy’s two-timing, douchebag ex-fiancé who cheated on her with her cousin.”

Tamara recoiled, the secondhand pain for her mentor-turned- roommate visible on her face. “Ouch. Why do you even spend time with them, if they treat you like shit?”

Lucy regaled the same story that she’d told her friends a hundred times. “Because they are my family, and I love them. They just want what’s best for me, is all. Obviously, our versions of ‘what’s best for Lucy’ don’t exactly align.”

Jackson patted Lucy’s arm in support, then turned to face her with a wry smirk. “Look on the bright side, Luce. Your Thanksgiving can’t be half as bad as Bradford’s.”

Lucy took her eyes off the road for just a second to grin at her friend. “Actually, I’m counting on mine being worse. I bet Tim that my Thanksgiving with the fam would be worse than his. Loser owes the winner a favor, no questions asked.”

Jackson and Tamara spoke at the same time.

“I highly doubt you’re going to win. Isn’t Bradford’s father a complete asshole?”

“The way you two flirt is so fucking weird.”

Pursing her lips, Lucy grumbled, “I’m choosing to ignore that. And Jackson, to answer your question, yes, Tim’s dad’s the worst. But Tim, his sister and brother-in-law, his nieces, and his father are all spending the day at Disneyland. Hopefully, ‘The Happiest Place on Earth’ will put Mr. Bradford in a better mood.”

“So, long story short, I’ve totally got this.”

Read the rest on Ao3

[fuck-customers]

i sent in an ask about the guy who told me i sounded like his ex girlfriend, and im here with another story! yesterday, the store lead had some cleaning tasks for us to do throughout the night after he left. the lead for the night, who we will call bob, divided them up so that he had two he would do, and that one of the three cashiers (plus someone who would be floating between kitchen and register) could do. i volunteered to do both tasks because i prefer them over register, and we only ever have two registers open unless its crazy busy. monday night is unlikely to get that way. anyway, i also find out that coffee needs to be done, and since my tasks are to clean the drawers we keep the coffee grounds in (which are underneath the coffee machines) and dust the wall behind the coffee and fountain machines, i decide I'll make coffee too. bob's tasks involve cleaning outside in front of the store. all five of us discussed all this before bob and i split off to do our tasks. a while later, while im cleaning the coffee ground drawers, i hear someone yell bob's name. whatever, theres two cashiers and a floater, and they all know where bob went. not my problem, i go back to vacuuming coffee grounds. a few minutes later, don, the annoying guy that this post is about, asks the two kitchen people and if we know where bob went. i said "he might be out front cleaning." you know, like he said. guess where he was? out front cleaning. later, after don left, i find out that it was because the scratch off lottery machine was broken again (only leads can access it). also, he apparently punched one of those cardstock stand up signs hard enough to dent it A LOT.

so to reiterate how ridiculous this is:

he got mad about this over the lottery machine, which is like, not a big deal, but whatever.

he was rushing around like it was busy even though there was a single person in line and another cashier at the register along with two backups if needed.

he should have known where bob was, because we talked about it together.

he got mad enough to yell and punch things before thinking to ask one of us if we knew where bob went.

oh, and since i didnt mention this earlier, he knew where we would be too. we talked about me being by the coffee machines, which are also visible from the registers, and i was using a vacuum which is loud, and the other two could only be in the kitchen or the break room.

one of my coworkers took a picture if the sign and sent it to both of the store leads, so hopefully this guy will be on his way out. oh, and she also told me that a customer complained about him being scary because, like i said before, he does this in front of customers too. im going to follow up with the store lead when i work next to make sure he got the picture since the coworker who sent it is going on vacation and wont be able to.

[jackrrabbit]

Unprofessional [pt. 1] /// Yandere Tendou x f!Reader

Summary: The new hire you’re supposed to be training at your office job is a little too attached for his own good…or yours. [Part 2]

A/N: Someone requested yandere Tendou and I was like !!! However when I wrote it, it turned out kinda long so I split it into 2 parts; I’ll answer the req when I post part 2. Anyway I’m obsessed with the concept of salaryman Tendou, please enjoy!

Tags/warnings: yandere, timeskip (Tendou is 22-23 in this), workplace/office setting, liberal use of “senpai”, alcohol, Tendou’s crackhead energy is toned down a little bit because of the setting [In part 2: smut, 18+]

You don’t really like Tendou when you first meet him.

Your first impression when your boss introduces the new employee is that he’s all talk and no substance. He’s been hired fresh out of university, and he’s got the stink of a former frat boy all over him—that baseless enthusiasm, chaotic goodwill and arrogance mixed together. That might have been your type when you were still sucking down cheap keg beer from red solo cups, but you’re two years into your career as a real grown-up adult now, and the cockiness that radiates off Tendou in waves is just…annoying.

Unfortunately, when your boss tells you to take the newbie under your wing, train him, and be his mentor, it’s not a request. It’s a demand. So you decide to suck it up. If you’re going to have to spend every second at the office with Tendou trailing after you like a baby duck, you may as well get used to him.

After a few weeks, you have to admit he’s not that bad. Sure, he’s not the best at respecting personal space, but how can you blame him? When he looms over you to reach for a file above your head for the nth time and traps you between his body and the cabinet, you finally lose your patience and snap at him to give you some space, but he looks so surprised and apologizes so sincerely that you can’t help forgiving him. You feel a little bad, even, when he explains that he’s never worked in an office before so he’s not used to all the rules that he’s expected to follow in a professional environment.

You can’t really fault him for that, especially when you’re the one who’s supposed to be teaching him these things. “It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean anything,” you tell him, and he perks up so quickly that you feel even worse for chewing him out in the first place.

The thing is, Tendou doesn’t really stop getting close to you once you chastise him. It just bothers you less. The dozenth time his hand lingers over yours while you’re passing him a document or he picks an invisible thread off your blouse or sits a little too close when you’re riding in the back of a taxi to a client meeting, you start convincing yourself that you’re overreacting. He’s probably not being that much more pushy than your other coworkers—you’re just more aware of him because you don’t know him as well.

And it doesn’t help that he’s tall, towering over you and pretty much everyone else in the office. The cheap suits he cycles through can’t quite conceal the hard lines of muscle underneath—oh, whoops. Now you’re the one crossing boundaries. Tendou is so big that you’re just…more conscious of his presence, right?

This is drilled into you one night after a marathon overtime session when you’re carrying a tall stack of boxes back to the archives. Maybe it’s because you’ve been at work for 11 hours, but the files feel like they’re filled with rocks, not paper. Your muscles are this close to giving out when Tendou appears out of nowhere to pluck the files out of your arms. “Here. Gimme, gimme, I’ll take ‘em.”

The way he carries the heavy boxes so effortlessly makes you kind of embarrassed at how much you’d struggled with them. “You’re pretty strong, hm,” you say absently. Oops, was that inappropriate? You don’t want him thinking you’re hitting on him or something.

“Oh—yeah I guess?” Tendou’s laugh (the one that used to grate on your nerves) sounds like he’s pleased with himself. “I go to the gym a lot.”

“Wish I could find the time. Or the discipline,” you reply as he replaces the file box in the archive room.

“Wow, senpai is calling me disciplined. My heart is pounding.”

His tone is sarcastic enough that you don’t think twice about the second part of his statement. “Don’t get too full of yourself. If you have the energy to go to the gym, you should spend that time double checking your expense reports before you submit them.”

“Ouch.” Tendou holds his hand over his heart in mock betrayal. “Targeting my weak points, how ruthless. But seriously, working out is second nature to me. Been doin it since I was a kid so it doesn’t take any kinda discipline.”

“Oh? Did you play sports or something?”

“Yeah…” Tendou’s voice trails off and when you pause from your task of organizing the files to look up at him, he’s staring directly at you. “…Used to play volleyball. Grade school through college.”

The way he’s looking at you, searching your face for something you can’t identify, makes you think this is more important than it seems. You tip your head to the side, waiting for him to continue.

“Our team in high school was pretty good,” he says slowly.

“That’s cool,” you say, turning back to the paperwork. “Did you ever play Shiratorizawa? They’re my old high school—I think their volleyball team went to nationals back in the day. I was never into sports though.”

A moment passes, and you frown. Did you say something wrong? But just before you’re about to change the subject, Tendou starts laughing. “Shiratorizawa? No, I don’t think I ever played them.”

Your laugh joins his a second late, although you don’t know why he thinks it’s funny in the first place. In the echo of your voices, you can hear how quiet it is in the archives. There’s something here you’re missing, but you’re not sure what.

Luckily enough, the somewhat awkward atmosphere doesn’t carry over to the next day. When you get into the office, Tendou is his usual clingy self, distracting you from your own work to ask you to teach him something and pulling you away when you’re talking to your coworkers so you can double check his emails before he sends them. If anything, he’s more attached than usual—when you go to a contract renewal negotiation with a client he insists on tagging along, so you let him after making him promise not to get in the way.

Of course he doesn’t keep his promise, but you end up appreciating his intrusion more than you could have predicted. The client is stubborn and rude until Tendou chimes in (much to your dismay, at first) with an offer to add on some oddly specific perks to the contract. You’re already practicing your apology speech to the boss in anticipation of losing the client, but to your amazement he agrees to Tendou’s terms and the deal is sealed, along with a healthy bonus for you.

You’re on cloud nine, practically skipping out of the building with Tendou at your side as you fantasize about what you’re going to do with the bonus after you split it with him. A weekend vacation out of the city? An online shopping spree? Some fancy dinners at five-star restaurants? Knowing you, the money will end up going straight to your savings, but you still can’t contain your giddiness. “How did you know he wanted that add-on? Seriously, I had no idea!”

“A guess! I’m good at reading people.” Tendou’s just as elated as you, pumping his fist and whooping like a kid as soon as you’re away from the client’s earshot. “Woohoo! Yay! Our first sale together!”

“A guess? You risked that huge contract on a guess?” You roll your eyes but you’re too excited to be mad at him. “Anyway, you don’t have to say ‘our’ first sale, I know it was all you. I’ll tell the boss you’re doing a good job.”

“No way, it’s ours! Both of us. Me and senpai.” Tendou’s hand reaches down and his fingers lace with yours, squeezing so tight his knuckles go pale.

The thrill of your success flickers as nervousness sets in. Is he holding your hand? “Tendou—“

“Senpaiiiii~” he says in sing-song, swinging your hand as you walk to meet the taxi and ignoring your meek attempts to pull away. “Didn’t I do a good job?”

“Y-Yeah. Good job, Tendou.”

Work friends. The two of you are work friends. Your boss passes all comments to Tendou through you (mostly things about how he’s good with clients and charismatic but needs to stop making minor errors on paperwork). When one of you is sick, your coworkers ask the other to pass on their good wishes. Tendou fits into his role at the office seamlessly, and you can’t say you don’t appreciate the fact that all of his good work is reflecting well on you.

So when his birthday rolls around two months after he’s hired, it’s up to you to plan the office drinking party (only after he complains to you about how he doesn’t have any friends since moving to Tokyo). You have the date you got from Facebook—May 20th—circled in red pen on your private calendar along with a little doodle of a birthday cake.

“What’s that?” asks one of your coworkers, pointing to the circle, as you flip through your agenda a week before the event.

“Tendou’s turning 23,” you tell him. “It’s a Friday, so some of us are going to go to a restaurant and drink a little. You’re coming, right?”

“Oh…yeah.” Your coworker scratches his head and clears his throat. “You guys are pretty close, huh. Um, I actually wanted to ask—you’re not together, are you?”

A chill runs up your spine. “Together? Who said that?” If this rumor gets around to your boss it’ll kill your career. These things always look worse for the woman than for the man. God, it was probably something Tendou said without thinking, he’s always talking about you and someone could easily misinterpret all that praise…

“Well, if you’re dating—“

“We’re not dating,” you say quickly. “We do a lot of work together because I’m training him, but it’s not like that.”

“Really?” Your coworker straightens and smiles. “Cause I was actually thinking of asking if you wanted to go out this weekend—“

“Senpai? Can you help me with this draft?”

Damnit, it’s Tendou getting in the way at the absolute worst time—especially considering he just had to come up behind you and put his hand on your shoulder. Seriously, how many times do you have to tell him to stop doing that when you’re talking to someone else? You’re not sure whether to be irritated at him for cutting your coworker off, concerned that the other man won’t believe what you said about you and Tendou having a strictly professional relationship, or relieved that you don’t have to give an answer to what sounds like an offer for a date.

You cast an apologetic glance at your coworker and make your way over to Tendou’s desk, hoping against hope that the interruption doesn’t look too suspicious. You’d die if word got around to your boss that you were dating your mentee.

///

You’ve got this office drinking party thing down to an art. Step one is to load up on greasy appetizers that’ll increase your alcohol tolerance, step two is to drink plenty of water, and step three is to pour yourself a single drink early and take small sips.

There’s a step four, too: make sure no one else’s glass get’s below the 1/4 mark. Your boss and coworkers are a lot less receptive to how little you’re drinking when they’re all nice and tipsy. It’s a system you’ve perfected over the years, one that allows you to have fun with people from the office without risking making an ass out of yourself or getting a hangover (which, at 25, is a lot more unpleasant than it used to be).

You can’t count the number of times you’ve witnessed the awkward drunken escapades of your fellows, which range from the endearing (your boss crying over how much he loves his wife) to the awkward (coworker makeout sessions) to the potentially criminal (bar fights. So many bar fights). You’re happy to remain a neutral observer, and tonight is no exception.

The only problem is that Tendou hasn’t yet mastered the art of drinking lightly when you’re around people you work with, so now, at the end of his party, he’s (for lack of a better word) trashed. His cheek is mashed flat to the restaurant table like it’s glued there and his head is surrounded by progressive rings of bottles and cans. It’s some kind of miracle that he hasn’t yet gone to the bathroom to get sick.

“Sorry Tendou,” you sigh. “I should have been keeping a better eye on you.” You had no idea he’d get so drunk so quickly. Aren’t tall guys supposed to have high tolerance or something?

“Sssshenpaii,” Tendou slurs, hoisting his head off the table with that looks like Herculean effort. “I liiiike when…when ya look at me…”

“Ha, ha,” you say sarcastically.

Tendou’s head whips around. “Where’d everyone go?”

“They all left—now it’s time for us to go home too. Come on, I’ll help you get to the taxi.” You pay the bill (oof, there goes your petty cash for the week) and pull on Tendou’s shirt sleeve to get him to stand up. Luckily he’s just sober enough to realize what you want him to do and he follows you out to the street with an arm draped over your shoulders to steady his meandering footsteps.

The real trouble comes when the two of you are seated comfortably in the cab and the driver asks for Tendou’s address, which, apparently, he can’t remember. You do the sensible thing and look through his phone, but his own contact card provides no hint to where he lives in Tokyo, only a phone number, email, and address in Sendai which has to be his parents’ house—

Wait.

Tendou’s from Sendai?

You’re from Sendai. You didn’t know he was too. What a coincidence that both of you moved to Tokyo from Sendai. You’ve mentioned your hometown to him a couple times—how come he never told you he’s from the same place? You’re only two years older than him; maybe you’ve run across him in Sendai before the two of you started working together.

Now that you think about it, his face has always been kind of familiar…you thought it was just ‘one of those faces’, but…?

This isn’t the time to wonder, though. You poke Tendou gently in the side, careful not to jar him enough to risk any stomach upset. “Tendou? Do you remember what street you live on?”

After a long pause Tendou names a street, but it’s your company’s address which isn’t located anywhere near a residential district. When you tell him to think harder, he grimaces, lips pulling back to bare his teeth. “Don’ wanna go home…lemme sleep over at senpai’s house.”

“What? You can’t stay at my place.”

“Why noooot? ‘m tired,” he drawls, eyes closing as his head droops onto your shoulder in the back of the cab.

“It’s—it’s inappropriate—wait, no-no-no-no don’t fall asleep,” you tell him desperately but it’s already too late. A light snore filters out of him and you curse. “Tendou—“

“Address?” the cab driver barks insistently, giving you the stink eye in the rearview mirror.

Shit. Well, it is his birthday, you have a pull-out couch, and it’s not like anyone from the office is around to see you going home together. Tomorrow morning you’ll just have to give him a lecture about professional boundaries and make him promise not to breathe a word of this to your boss.

You give your own address to the cab driver. Tendou sleeps peacefully on your shoulder throughout the entire drive, rousing only when you whisper his name in his ear outside your building (which is a miracle, because you know without a doubt that you’re not capable of carrying him). When you get up to your apartment, you deposit him on the sofa bed and tell him not to look through your stuff while you brush your teeth.

Obviously, he doesn’t listen to you. When you emerge from the bathroom, Tendou is standing in the middle of your living room and turning the pages of an old photo album of yours.

“Hey, give me that.” You try to pull it away from him, but he doesn’t let go and his grip is stronger than yours, so the album remains firmly in his hands. “If you’re sober enough to mess with my things, you should go home.”

“This is senpai, right?” Tendou says, pointing to one of the photos.

Despite your exasperation, you lean in to take a look. It’s a picture from high school with you and some friends, all of you wearing your Shiratorizawa uniforms and grinning cheekily at whoever took the picture. Your fingers are cocked up in a peace sign. “Yeah? That’s me.”

“So cute…senpai is really cute…” Tendou’s long finger trails over the edge of your face though the filmy plastic covering the photo.

“Um…you need to get to sleep,” you say nervously, pulling a little harder on the album.

He doesn’t budge, instead just flipping back in the album to older pictures from when you were little until he stops at a photo of you and your younger brother in grade school. Against your better judgement, you frown and look closer to try and pick up whatever caught his interest in this particular image.

“How old…?” he asks.

“I don’t know, 10 or 11 maybe?”

Tendou nods. “When I met senpai…you were this old, yeah.”

“Jeez, you’re really drunk. We met two months ago, remember? I was on the interview board.”

“Yeah.” Tendou’s gaze is glued to the photo. “I was so sad, ‘cause senpai doesn’t remember me. But also really happy to see you after such a long time…I thought it was a dream…”

“Hm? I don’t get it.”

Tendou finally looks up from the picture and meets your wary gaze with those wide red eyes. God, you used to think his face was so creepy—lately you find his zealousness endearing, almost childlike, but right now? It’s making your feet itch how much you want to step away from him. “I was really hoping you would remember on your own, but I guess I’ll have to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“How me an’ senpai met…”

Are you imagining it, or does his voice sound a lot less slurred than it did just 20 minutes ago? “You’re not making any sense.”

“Shh, just listen…your little brother played volleyball when you were kids, didn’t he?”

How did he know that? You nod hesitantly.

“Yeah…he was in my grade. He was a bad kid, y’know that? Always saying mean things to me.”

It’s true. Your brother’s always had a mean streak in him.

“He used to call me a monster. ‘Cause, y’know—“ Tendou taps a finger against his face. “Guess I look weird. And my name, too. So he said he didn’t wanna play with me. Demons can’t play on human teams. Every day, saying cruel things. I really hated him.”

Monster. Volleyball. Your little brother. Tendou Satori like the mind-reading spirits from folklore. Something’s coming to mind, a memory you haven’t thought about in years—no, decades.

Your little brother making fun of another kid. A tall kid with red hair in a bowl cut.

“I-I remember,” you stammer. “I came to his practice one time and you were there, right? That bowl cut kid was you. I got mad at him for calling you names and I yelled at him. That’s when we met?”

“Correct!” Tendou’s beaming like you just told him he won the lottery instead of recalling a random fifteen-year-old memory. “You made him let me play! I got to get on the court, and block him, and see his beaten face looking up at me. All because of senpai.”

You can play this off, you think to yourself. Tell him you’re sorry for how your brother treated him. Ask him why he never told you that the two of you have met before. Say something. Anything. But your mouth is too dry to let you speak.

“And, you know…” Tendou’s voice softens and a light blush dusts his cheeks. “I thought you were so cool. I couldn’t believe you were related to that jerk. Can I…tell you a secret?”

No. Deep down you know what he’s going to say, and you don’t want to hear it.

Tendou’s hand comes up to comb through your hair, gently pulling through the delicate strands next to your face and tucking them back so he can lean in and whisper into your ear (even though there’s no one else around). “I like you, senpai.”

Stop it. Stop it. Your blood feels cold in your veins.

“I’ve liked you ever since then. I used to wish we were in the same grade so I could be your friend and talk to you every day. Whenever we were in different schools I missed seeing you in the halls and hearing your voice when you spoke to other people.”

“Stop...stop talking,” you whisper, but Tendou continues like he didn’t hear you.

“Why’d you have to go all the way to Tokyo for college? In my third year at Shiratorizawa I studied for your school’s entrance exam forever, but I didn’t get in. Was too busy with volleyball, I guess.” He pauses. “Oh, by the way, I went to Shiratorizawa. I lied about that, sorry. But—seriously, d’you have any idea how hard it was for me when you were away at university? Not seeing the person I love for six years?”

Love, he said. You feel nauseous. “Tendou, you don’t—“

“Let me finish, okay senpai? You don’t know how much I’ve been through. Always having to respect your ‘personal space’—“ he frames the phrase in mocking air quotes— “when I need to touch you so bad I feel like I’m gonna explode.”

And then he’s hugging you into his chest, crushing your torso into his. You struggle and try to get him to let you go, but Tendou is so much stronger than you.

“You’re not that different from your brother after all, are you?” he hums into your hair. “You’ve been torturing me. You know how you lean over my desk when you show me something on my computer? I can…see down your shirt when you do that. And I smell your perfume. I spent two hours at the mall trying all the different perfumes so I could find the right one…thought my nose was gonna stop working! But don’t laugh—“

You’re not laughing.

“—the salesgirl looked at me funny but I got it eventually. Chance Eau Fraiche, right? I can’t believe how expensive that stuff is, what is it made of gold? It was worth it though! I saw this news article about how smelling things in your sleep can trigger memories, so I tried spraying your perfume on my pillow before I go to bed and now I get to see you at work and when I’m dreaming—”

“STOP IT!” Your slap echoes across the room with a resounding crack. You’ve never hit anyone before in your life, but your aim is good enough to leave Tendou staring with a shocked expression off to the side and a bright red mark on his face. His arms fall down from you and you back away from him, clutching your hand to your chest. “You need to get out. You’re drunk and you’re not thinking clearly. We...we can talk about this tomorrow, but right now you have to go.”

Your heart is beating like hummingbird wings, sending a flush up to your face that you know is visible. Tendou ghosts his hand over his cheek and is quiet for a long moment. “I wanted to do this the right way,” he says finally.

“What?”

“I tried. But you’re so obsessed with professionalism. You refused to see me like that,” he sighs. “You’re too responsible. Although it’s one of the things I like about you.”

“Please listen to me...” The psychological anxiety of this revelation is stirring up a primal fight or flight instinct, and you start backing up.

“I really wanted to treat you gently. You deserve to be treated well…”

“Tendou, wait.” How far are you from your bedroom? You don’t want to resort to hiding from him, but you’d feel a lot better with a locked door between you and him.

“…but senpai, I’ve waited so long. And it’s my birthday.”

Your hands scrabble for the doorknob, only—oh. He’s not just stronger than you, he’s faster too.

➠ [Part 2]

[johnismyreason]

I have a request for a oneshot! Meeting tom in a bar, chatting, flirting, ending up at his place and having $ex🔥

It always takes me so much time to write something I’m sorry... Anyway I hope you’ll enjoy :) 

warnings: smutt, alcohol (kinda), praise kink, no foreplay, dom-ish!tom, and obviously the usual bad English 

The longest day ever. Ugh.

It was one of those days where you just think I just should’ve stayed in bed. Your alarm clock didn’t ring. You cracked your favourite pair of jeans right before heading out, making you running late even more. Your boss gave you yet another assignment in addition of you hundred of other ones. Stacy, your favourite co-worker, wasn’t here because she was on vacation with her boyfrie- fiancé now, wow she just texted you a selfie with her ring, and you remain single. Someone spilled their coffee on your shirt and didn’t even apologise. And finally hen you thought nothing bad can happen anymore, the rain was pouring. Of course you didn’t take your umbrella or a coat with a hood. Thank you London shitty weather. And of course, a car splashed the only puddle of water all over you. You wanted to cry, scream and burn everything down. You lift your head and read in bright red lighting the holy word “PUB”. Hallelujah. You didn’t even think about it, you just walked in.

The place was almost empty, which didn’t bother you at all, since you had enough interactions with humans for the day, maybe even for the week.

You sat at the bar, your coat drenched, your hair sticking to your face, your make up was gone and your mascara left black ink under your eyes. You were sticky and looked gross, but you couldn’t care less anymore. After three minutes with your head between your hands and elbows on the counter, the bartender bring you a shot of vodka.

“Wait,” you called him, “I didn’t order yet”

“Yeah, well, the guy over there got this for you” he replied, pointing at a curly hair young man sat on the banquette behind you, who, with a tight smile, waved shyly at you with just two fingers.

You looked at him with your tired eyes. Shit, he’s cute. He must has a weird obsession for desperate girls. You take the small glass and poured it down your throat.

“Thank you,” you told him a little louder than expected but you didn’t bother pretending you were sorry for three other customers. The young man got up and walked towards you, his bottle of beer in his hand.

“You’re welcome,” he said softly, seating on the stool next to yours. “You looked like you needed it” he chuckled.

“T’was that obvious ?”

He chuckled again before replying “a bit.” and you smiled lightly too. He didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds, just looking at you. “I’m Tom by the way” he introduced himself and extended his hand to you.

You looked at his hand, a little surprised by his traditional behaviour, but took it anyways “Y/N”

“Nice to meet you Y/N”. Another smile appeared on his thin lips . He was really cute. “So, what happened ? It seems like you had a rough day, don’t you ?” he asked, taking a sip of his beer. His jaw was sharp and his fingers were long and thin around the bottle.

“You wouldn’t want to know, it’s too long, and boring, and sad and... yeah, pathetic” you said, your head resting on your palm, staring at the counter.

“Well thank god we have all night, and you might think it’s an odd coincidence but, boring, sad and pathetic stories are my favourite.”

You thought about it. He’s a stranger in the creepiest pub in London, you don’t know nothing about him, and he doesn’t know nothing about you. You look a mess and weird, you’re drenched, why does he want to know about your day ?

“You like desperate girls, don’t you ?” you finally said.

“What ?” Tom replied, genuinely confused.

“Or maybe you’re the desperate one and is ready to pick the most rubbish looking girl, as long as you can have your release” you teased

“N-no, no ! I-I just... I saw you by the window getting splashed by the car, I felt so bad for you and I hoped you would come in so I can offer you a drink. I-I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I’ll leave-”

“Wait !” you stopped him from getting out of his stool, placing your hand on his forearm. Now you felt bad. He’s the first and only person today who didn’t annoy you in any kind of way. “Please, stay. It’s been a long day. A very long day” you sighed. Tom sat back on his stool with a tight smile. He ordered two other beers for him and you.

“Wanna talk about it ?” he gently proposed. You nodded and started your narrative. You gave all the details, from the sound of your ripped jeans, the tone of the unkind comment your coworker spat after pouring his coffee on you, to the very beautiful diamond your friend got when she got proposed to what seemed the perfect guy. Tom listened to everything, and kept his focus on your eyes, sometimes your lips, but just for a second. You finished your story after what felt like 10 hours of speaking.

“Wow... that was... a fucking shitty day” he chuckled bringing you warmth to your heart.

You chuckled “I’ll drink to that,” taking your beer and clinked it with his. You sighed dramatically and turned to him.

“What about yours ?”

“Mine ?” he said after taking a sip. “Well, it was way less interesting than yours” he laughed. “Um... I woke up. Got to the grocery store, worked out, watched TV, worked and got to this bar. And now I’m talking to a very pretty girl.” you blushed, not expecting him to say that.

“I bet she smells like flowers” you roasted yourself.

“More like a wet dog but that’s light” Tom teased and you hit him lightly on his arm. You both laughed lightly.

“We’re closing,” the bartender cut you.

“It’s only 9 o’clock...” you responded, your eyebrows frowned.

“We’re closing,” he repeated.

You looked at Tom, rolling your eyes “It’s because of my bad luck, I’m sorry.”

“Oh don’t be. This gives me the opportunity to ask you if you want to come to me place, have another drink.” he asked shyly, putting the money on the counter.

You looked at him awkwardly stuffing his hand in his jean pockets, waiting for your response. He’s really cute. Fuck it, let’s go. You bit your lip into a smile and nodded a yes. His eyes widened.

“Really ? Great ! Um, let’s go then,” he let you walk first towards the door but opened it for you. He told that his appartement is just a few minutes walking from here.

You followed him in the almost empty streets, talking about everything and mostly about him. He was nice and funny and it felt like you knew him for years. He led you to his building and then apartment which was gigantic next to yours. He took your coat and offered you to dry your hair  with his hairdryer while he sets everything to eat. You agreed and followed him in his bathroom. You came back in the kitchen where Tom was preparing dinner. There was a central counter illuminated by three industrial-style lamps. Tom had a folded tea towel on his shoulder and seemed very concentrated on cooking his dish.

“Pasta alla tomato,” he announced with a proud smile and his fingers pinched together, noticing you coming back from the bathroom.

“I’m not quite sure, that’s how Italians call it” you laughed standing next to him.

“Who cares ? It’s gonna be delicious,” he smirked. “Wanna taste ?” he asked with a low voice, his spoon ready to make you taste the tomato sauce. You nodded eagerly, making him chuckle. You parted your lips and leaned towards him, welcoming the spoon in your mouth. You moaned at the taste and watched his pupils dilate for a split second.

“It is delicious,” you confirmed licking your lips. Tom watched your tongue dancing on your mouth and felt his heart beating fast. Suddenly, it was too hot in the room.

“We um... we should take some plates,” he tried to resonate him. He moved around you to grab two plates, forks and knives and placed it on the counter, in front of the chairs.

You kept talking about life and laughed at the strangest stories you two lived. You were having the best time. Tom was nice, funny and it felt like you knew each others for years. Everything since the bar was simple and comfortable. Also, he was really cute. You couldn’t take off your eyes of him. You admired the stain of curls falling on his forehead, and how his biceps contrat when he runs his hand through his hair to replace it. The little wrinkles around his eyes when he was smiling and the joyful burst of his voice as he laughs.

You also noticed a small stain of tomato sauce on his jaw, and without thinking about it, cutting Tom in his sentence, you swiped your thumb over it and brung it to your lips. Before you could reach your mouth, Tom stopped you, interlacing your hand with his fingers, pulling it to his face. He plunged his gaze into yours and wrapped his lips around your thumb. He licked softly your digit without breaking the eye contact. You stopped breathing, your heart pounding in your ears.

“That was mine,” he almost groaned. He then kissed delicately your other fingers while you starred at his lips and his face. He sometimes made eye contact with, making you loose your mind, before closing his eyes refocusing your fingers. He pulled gently on your wrist close to make you lean towards him. Your faces are a few inches away and the tension is so thick, the space between you is barely breathable.

“Y/N,” Tom whispered “please let me kiss you” he tilted his head waiting for your answer. Your breath was jerky, your pupils dilated and all your senses in turmoil. You leaned a little more, closing your eyes and nodded slowly.

Tom placed his other free hand on your cheek and closed the space between you. His lips were warm and rough at the same time, but his kisses were soft and caring. He wanted to make you feel good. The leaned position wasn’t the most comfortable though. So without breaking the kiss, Tom guided you up and sat you on his lap.

“Hm, much better” he said between kisses. You giggled and ran your hands through his soft curls. Tom navigated his lips down your neck and sucked on your hot skin. You tilted your head back giving him all the space he needed. Tom then traced his way down to your chest, his hands running up and down your back, waist and hips. You gently pulled on his curls to bring back his lips on your mouth, both whining and moaning.

“Tom, I need more... so much more” you desperately moaned out of breath. He didn’t say anything. He just got up, holding you around his chest and walked to his bedroom. After letting you falling gracefully on his bed he got up and took off his tight t-shirt. You discovered his muscular features, making you want to touch it.

“Give me your hands,” he nicely ordered. And you obeyed. He placed your palms on his pecs and slowly ran them all over his upper body. Your eyes stared frantically every inch of his skin, in awe of his features. Tom looked at your face with a slight smirk, admiring you.

“You like what see ?” that was so cocky yet so hot. You would gave laughed if it was anyone else, but there was something about him that was so hypnotising.

“I really do,” you whispered, still caressing him.

“Y/N, can I take off your clothes” he gently demanded, lingering his long fingers on your arms.

“Please,” you whimpered. Tom took the time to kiss you before pulling up your almost tired t-shirt and bra.

“Gorgeous,” he groaned and ran his warm hand on your breast. You moaned his name when you felt his lips around your nipples. “you’re so beautiful Y/N”. He pushed you against the mattress, stil sucking on your buds. He slid his hands down your body to take off your panties. “Can I take these off ?”

“Yes, you can” you answered desperately. He wasted no time and admired your glistening core.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside you” Tom got up and grabbed a condom in his bathroom. When he came back he stumbled while taking off his boxers, making you giggle at his eagerness. He almost jumped on the bed and placed the condom on his very hard cock. You looked at him with wanting eyes, licking your lips.

“Do I need to work you out a little ?”

“No, no, don’t worry about that, you’ve done enough” you giggled and he responded the same way. “Please, I just need you...” you whimpered. Tom leaned on you to kiss you, and ever so smoothly entered you. You both moaned loudly.

“Fuck Y/N, you feel amazing” he stayed immobile for a little while so you can accommodate to him, until you moved your hips. He got the message and started thrusting gently but deeply.

Tom never stoped kissing you. On your lips, your cheeks, your neck... every bit on your skin that was reachable was showered by his lips. It was like a drug to him. You couldn’t get your hands off of his body, running them on his back, abs, chest and hair tugging a little on his curls. And each time your did that, he groaned and moaned. He made the prettiest sounds and you were loving it. Tom sped up his movements, holding close to him.

“Tom... umm you feel so good ! Gosh, please don’t stop”, you praised him and deepened his thrusts. They were more calculated, more passionate. Seeing him responding to your praises this way, made you want even more from him, so you continued.

“Um, yes just like that, oh fuck ! Tom, fuck you feel amazing !” he became animalistic in his thrusts and you felt your orgasm getting closer.

“You like this cock pretty girl ? um ?” he groaned in your ear “do you feel how perfect it is for you ? how it makes you loose yourself ? I feel you clenching baby...” his thrusts sped up even harder wanting you to release your pleasure “cum for me Y/N, I’m right behind you. God, fuck- your pussy feels so good, so tight !”

Your nails scratched his back, searching for something to hold onto, you arched your spine and let your orgasm took over you. Tom thrusted a few more times before he cums in you, moans and groans filling the air. He relaxed his body on top of yours, both you regaining your breath. Who knew, after spending the worst day ever, you would end up in a stranger’s bed. Tom eventually rolled on the side, giggling.

“What’s so funny ?” you asked a bit embarrassed.

“Nothing, nothing,” he reassured you, kissing you softly, “it was just... mind-blowing.” You felt your cheeks heat up against his palm.

“I know,” your confirmed. “Thank you for brighting up my day” you joked.

“Anytime, love !” Tom smiled before hesitantly asking you “actually, I was thinking, maybe we could go on a date, or something... I spent a really good time with you. I’m not only talking about the sex, huh, it was an amazing evening.”

You bit your lips and kissed him delicately “I would love that. I had a great time too”

[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

Habanero

You're a good girl, well behaved.

Absolutely not the type to rail random guys in nightclubs.

Until you are.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Aizawa x Reader, Present Mic x Reader, a sprinkling of Erasermic and eventual polyamorous Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Explicit, Minors BE GONE

Trigger Warnings: None in this chapter.

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

Chapter: 12/16 (all chapters)

Stain’s capture radically changed the atmosphere in the school, for students and adults alike. Luckily, your suspicions about the case proved correct and no one was expelled, though that wasn’t to say Midoriya, Todoroki and Iida got away scot free.

Iida was, for obvious reasons, the most apologetic of the three. He bowed his head so many times and so passionately that you worried he would give himself a concussion. He apologised for being untruthful and pushing away the help offered to him, seeming to expect disappointment and anger from you or Shouta. If anything, the lack of it hit him harder.

Iida, Midoriya and Todoroki weren’t the only ones affected by the incident. Students you had never seen before dropped into your office, some terrified by the footage they had seen and others conflicted.

A particular video began to circulate the web after the incident, one that detailed Stain’s background and ideology. It didn’t seem to matter how many times it was taken down or blocked, for within minutes it would appear elsewhere. It went without saying that almost every student in UA saw it eventually, as well as the vast majority of the faculty staff.

Everyone had an opinion and something to say, yourself included. You chatted about it at the izakaya as well as the staff lounge and then again during the recording of Support Mic.

Even after public interest died down, when Stain’s name no longer appeared on the news and fewer people came to your office to talk through their anxieties, the atmosphere at UA remained tense. Summer vacation loomed over the horizon and with it the end of term examinations.

As was the case with most people, you were especially curious of 1-A. They had experienced so much in such a short period of time that it was difficult not to be even slightly protective of them. With Nezu’s approval, you attended their physical exams, watching wide eyed at each match.

Your intrigue didn’t only stretch to the students. This was your first chance to truly see your colleagues at work and you could barely hide your excitement, chewing at your thumbnail and twirling the pen in your hand, wincing whenever anyone hit concrete or landed on their face. Recovery Girl seemed to find your fascination amusing, though wasn't annoyed, instead chuckling under her breath whenever you gasped or jumped in your seat.

You watched in awe as Shouta jumped from rooftop to rooftop as easily as he climbed stairs; as Ectoplasm duplicated himself over and over; as Cementoss completely transformed the area around him. You felt incredibly small, the reality of having pro heroes for coworkers never quite so clear as then.

That wasn’t the only realisation you had.

You watched as Shouta moved, remembering how it had felt when he fucked you against a bathroom sink. When Hizashi stepped out to activate his quirk, you couldn’t tear your eyes from his throat, remembering how he had moaned into your mouth when he came. Even now, you could still feel Shouta’s hands against your hips; the vibrations of Hizashi’s mouth against yours.

You were ruined now in terms of standards. You’d slept with heroes and nothing else would satisfy you.

Hizashi had stayed true to his word, saying nothing of what had happened between you the night of the Hosu incident. He flirted as he always did, though it never went any further from there. In many respects, you were grateful for it. Not only would it be far, far more suspicious to other people if he suddenly stopped joking around about how cute you were, but the impact of the reset would almost certainly hit harder. On a surface level nothing had changed between you at all.

You winced when he finally activated his quirk and bellowed across the forest. You didn't have any sound, but could see the trees buckling and shedding their leaves from the impact.

You watched as Jirou and Kouda sheltered in the trees, Jirou’s ears bleeding and Kouda trembling in fear, feeling incredibly conflicted. You wanted them to do their best and show how resourceful they could be, but you didn’t want Hizashi to go too hard on them either.

Several students had gathered in Recovery Girl’s makeshift office and watched each new development with just as much interest as you. Each had opinions on potential strategies, though Kouda’s eventual plan of action took everyone by surprise.

He placed his hands flat on the ground and began to speak, which you initially believed to be him panicking as before. However, moments later, the ground at Hizashi’s feet grew deformed and cracked, a seemingly endless number of bugs flooding out from between the gaps.

You clapped a hand over your mouth, skin prickling at the idea alone. Recovery Girl had little sympathy, tutting and shaking her head as if he had tripped over his own feet.

“Honestly,” she said as her desk phone began to ring. “A teacher of this school…”

“I’ll go and check in on him,” you said, getting to your feet and dusting nonexistent crumbs from your lap.

~~~~

Much like the students, the teachers had a makeshift waiting room outside of the examination areas. You jumped back the moment you opened the door, a sea of beetles, centipedes and spiders scurrying through the gap and towards freedom.

It took you all of two seconds to find Hizashi. All you had to do was follow the layers of discarded clothing. You picked up his jacket and gloves from the middle of the room and his shirt and boots from a little further in, wincing at the layers of bugs still contained within. You tipped his boots upside down at the outside door, giving them a few forceful taps that released several beetles. You gave his jacket and gloves a good shake, turning both inside out to double check for any intruders.

Then, and only then, did you return to the waiting room, draping his jacket and gloves across one of the chairs and setting his boots underneath.

The adjacent room was an infirmary of sorts, with several beds and a privacy curtain and you squirmed as even more bugs scuttled through the open door.

Hizashi had dumped the rest of his clothes in the middle of the room and disappeared behind the curtain, running a tap and whimpering every few seconds.

“H-Hizashi?”

He switched off the water at the sound of your voice and mumbled something you couldn’t quite understand.

“Are you okay?”

You stepped closer to the shield, dodging a line of ants.

“My b-”

“Hizashi?”

He poked his head through the shield, white as a sheet and hair soaking wet, though still sticking up in places.

“Boxers,” he said, so quietly that you could barely hear him. ”They’re in my boxers...”

“O-oh,” you said, blushing with both second hand embarrassment and discomfort. You squeezed your thighs together before you could stop. “I’ll try and find you some clothes, just wait a moment…”

You glanced around the room, leaning over to rummage through every cupboard and set of drawers. In the end, all you could find that was likely to fit him was a set of sweatpants and swimming trunks, as well as an oversized UA branded hoodie.

“Here you go,” you said, slipping them over the top of the screen. “Try these on.”

You were leaning over to salvage the remainder of Mic’s clothes when Shouta walked through the door, immediately rolling his eyes when he realised what you were up to. You glanced up at him, t-shirt in hand, scanning his body without meaning to. Now that you’d seen him swinging from rooftops, goggles only emphasising the sharpness of his jawline, it was difficult to think of anything else.

You didn’t notice that he stared back, taking in the way you had tucked a few loose strands of hair behind your ear; the way your blouse loosened around your neck as you bent over and teased a glimpse of your collarbones.

“I…” You said, realising you were staring at him. “I…”

“You came to observe us, then?”

“Yes,” you said, grabbing Hizashi’s shirt and folding it over your arm. “I uh… you were great. Oh! The students too! You were all great!”

You told yourself Shouta had encouraged you to pursue Hizashi. He had taken a step back and you should respect it.

Even so, you still couldn’t stop feeling flustered when you saw him, thinking of the kisses you had almost shared.

In retrospect, you wished you had gone after him while emotions still ran high. You wished you had asked him why he was pushing you away. What was it that had changed between you? Had you been misinterpreting his feelings all of this time?

No.

You remembered how sad he had looked. You definitely weren’t imagining that.

An awkward silence had broken out between you and you searched your brain for something -anything- to say. Shouta seemed to have had the same idea, for he reached out to you. You wondered if he was going to pull you into an embrace, but instead he scooped up a spider from the shirt you were holding, allowing it to crawl across his palm.

“Sho,” Hizashi called, “are you there?”

Shouta sighed at that and stepped towards the shield.

“Who else would be here sounding just like me?”

“So mean!”

“Anyway,” said Shouta, shooting you a knowing look, “I’ve got a present for you.”

“A present? For me! Really?”

Hizashi sounded genuinely excited, which only made your moment of realisation even worse.

Surely he wouldn’t?

Surely not.

Shouta pulled the curtain back, though, and activated his quirk. You didn’t see what happened next, but Hizashi’s screams were enough for you to make an educated guess.

“What are you doing?! Get that thing away from me!”

“It’s irrational for you to be scared. Look, it’s far more afraid of you.”

Even without the use of his quirk, Hizashi’s screams were loud. You weren’t entirely sure what Shouta did next, only that a half naked Hizashi threw himself through the curtain to escape. He was in too much of a panic to pay attention to his surroundings and crashed into the first thing to block his path, which unfortunately happened to be you. The pair of you collapsed to the floor, you landing flat on your back against the tiles, Hizashi face first on top of you, one hand either side of your head.

“O-w,” you muttered, having hit your elbow and the back of your head on the way down.

Hizashi winced, looking down to see what it was that had tripped him and blushing a furious shade of scarlet when he saw it was you.

Naturally, that was the precise moment Nemuri walked inside, mopping her brow on her sleeve.

“Well, well,” she said, closing the door behind her. “And they call me the R-Rated Hero.”

Only then did you realise the suggestiveness of your position, both you and Hizashi frantically untangling yourselves and getting back up onto your feet.

“H-h-h-how was the exam?”

“Yeah,” said Shouta, stepping out from behind the curtain, spider still in his hand. “What happened with Mineta and Sero?”

“Oh that,” said Nemuri, grinning and folding her arms. “I lost.”

At that, the room fell silent, all of you trying and failing to digest her words. All of you had crossed paths with Sero and Mineta at one point or another and, while Sero was certainly a capable hero, it was common knowledge that Mineta had a weakness for women.

In the end, Hizashi was the one to break the silence.

“You’re shitting us, right?”

“No joke,” said Nemuri, looking incredibly happy about it. “I lost.”

“Give me a play by play,” said Shouta, setting the spider down on a nearby shelf. “I want to know what happened.”

“You could have just watched, you know,” said Nemuri, before smirking and glancing at you and Hizashi. “Unless you found something more interesting.”

Your stomach churned at the implication, even though you knew for a fact that it had all been completely innocent.

“It wasn’t like that,” said Shouta. “So are you going to tell me or do I have to go and watch the tapes?”

At that, Nemuri sighed and described the exam, how Sero had passed out only a matter of minutes in, leaving Mineta to fend for himself. You barely paid attention, mind wandering.

Nemuri didn’t know you’d slept with both Shouta and Hizashi. She’d been making a joke and nothing more. Even so, you couldn’t help but imagine what it might be like if those experiences overlapped: Hizashi burying himself inside of you while Shouta pushed a vibrator against your clit; Shouta fucking you under a blacklight while Hizashi stole the moans from your lips.

You didn’t realise how obscene your thoughts had gotten nor how much you had stopped paying attention until Nemuri clapped a hand to your forehead.

“You okay, (Name)? You’re really warm.”

“I’m fine!” you squeaked, knowing you probably didn’t sound at all convincing. “Actually...I was just thinking...once exams are over, I want to treat everyone to dinner!”

You had taken Akira’s ring to the jewellery store a couple of days earlier, eyes still popping from your head at the number of digits. You spent most of the night wondering what on earth you would do with it. Your bills were cheap, you had a good salary. You didn’t need that sort of money.

In the end, you split the money in half, keeping some for yourself and donating the rest to a number of charities. You had already arranged to go to a cocktail bar with your girlfriends, but wanted to treat your work friends too. They had, after all, come to your rescue in a number of ways.

“You don’t have to do that,” said Hizashi, “we can just go out to dinner anyway!”

“I know, I know...it’s just,” you shrugged, “I sold the engagement ring and well...it only seems fair.”

Shouta glanced from you to Nemuri to Hizashi, scratching the back of his neck. He clearly had questions, but didn’t ask any of them.

“What about sushi? A new place opened up on Pink Street and I’ve been wanting to try it,” you said.

“Oooh, I’ve heard so much about that restaurant,” said Nemuri. “Their rolls melt in your mouth...”

“I haven’t been for sushi in so long,” sighed Hizashi.

“I guess that settles it,” you said, turning to Shouta. “How about you?”

“I’ll pass,” he said, “places like that are too fancy for me.”

“Aw, c’mon Eraser,” said Hizashi. “It’s the end of term, enjoy yourself.”

“They have fancy tuna,” you said. “Even if you don’t stay, you can take some home for Sushi.”

He paused to consider it, glancing from Nemuri to Hizashi and finally you, colour rising in his cheeks at your hopeful smile.

“Fine,” he said, “but I’m not staying long.”

~~~~

That night, for the first time since his recovery, Shouta stayed home instead of patrolling the streets. He had downloaded copies of the matches onto his laptop and made himself comfy on the couch to watch them, making mental notes of every move and decision.

He wanted to go over the strengths and weaknesses of his students ahead of the upcoming training camp and autumn term, though his mind wandered. He kept coming back to the moment Hizashi had fallen through the curtain and landed on you.

He had had suspicions that something had happened between the pair of you ever since the night of the Hosu incident. You had both arrived at the same time, which didn’t make a lot of sense given where you lived. You would catch different trains and arrive at different stations. Perhaps the most incriminating detail of all was the scent that lingered about you both; the same tangerine and orange blossom scent that he remembered from Hizashi’s visits during his recovery. Shouta’s own simple bath products had offended him on a personal level and he brought several bottles from his own collection on subsequent nights.

Shouta remembered turning his nose up at the perfumey scent and layers of bubbles, neither of which belonged in his otherwise simple home. That said, when Hizashi left one of the bottles behind, he didn’t give it back, often reaching for it and inhaling the sweet scent. It was the scent he caught on Hizashi whenever he got close enough, and he didn’t know what to think when he smelled it on both of you.

It wasn’t completely out of the realms of possibility that it was a coincidence, that both of you happened to have used the same product on the same night and bumped into one another outside of the school, but he knew it was unlikely. The simplest explanation was usually the right one, even if he didn’t necessarily want to accept it.

He didn’t know why it bothered him so much. He had told you to pursue Hizashi; he didn’t have the right to feel betrayed when you did. Even so, something had stirred within him when you and Hizashi arrived together, something he had managed to seal away until Hizashi fell through the curtain. He couldn’t stop thinking about it now; thinking about the pair of you in far less innocent circumstances.

His stomach churned whenever he thought about your naked bodies; about the pair of you sharing kisses and secrets. He hated it and he didn’t know why. Hizashi would be the perfect boyfriend and you the perfect wife. It made sense for the pair of you to get together. Hizashi was into marriage and holding hands in public; you had books on the meaning of flowers and pancake moulds shaped like bunnies. He didn’t belong in either scenario any more than he had belonged in the group hug you, Nemuri and Hizashi shared.

He groaned and scratched his hair, turning over onto his side and reloading the video he had been watching. He didn’t want to think about this anymore. It was giving him a headache.

He stared at the screen, watching as Kaminari and Mina sprinted through empty streets, Nezu not far behind. He made it only about five minutes before his eyelids began to droop. He was still getting used to the limits of his quirk and had a feeling he’d overused it in his match against Yaoyorozu and Todoroki.

Shouta stretched back, resting an arm on the arm of the couch and laying his head down on the crook of his elbow.

He’d rest his eyes for a moment and just listen.

He listened out for the racket of crumbling buildings, drifting to sleep before he could stop himself.

When he opened his eyes, he was in someone else’s bedroom, sunlight shining through the windows and bathing his skin in golden light. He was flat on his back and on top of the bedcovers, head resting on sweet smelling pillows.

He realised he was naked and that he wasn’t alone.

Giggles broke out from further down the bed and he looked down, peering through his spread legs and into two smiling faces. You and Hizashi were laid on your front and as naked as he was, laughing at the lurid blush that had broken out across his face.

“Go on...get on with it,” he said, eying his own hard cock.

You turned to Hizashi with a smile.

“Should we?”

“I don’t know,” said Hizashi, “he’s been such a grump lately.”

“All the more reason to cheer him up!”

“Oh, just as expected of you, (Name),” said Hizashi, kissing you on the lips, “so considerate!”

Shouta groaned, watching as he kissed you again with more than a hint of tongue. The wet sound your lips made whenever you broke contact was almost too much for him to bear. You stole glances at him as you ended the kiss, knowing the effect you were having on him.

He gasped as the pair of you ran your tongues over his cock, taking turns at the tip. It was overwhelming and he bucked his hips into your touches, not sure which detail to focus on first. Should he listen to the popping sounds whenever one of you sucked his tip? Should he sigh in pleasure at the gentle way the pair of you ran your hands over the inside of his thighs? Should he choke in desperation at the feel of your combined saliva dribbling down his cock?

This was too much.

Hizashi took hold of his dick and pumped it so quickly that he could do nothing else but grip the bedsheets and shake, watching as the pair of you kissed again. You leaned over to spit on the tip of his cock and Hizashi jerked him faster, the wet sound shaking him to his core.

“I think he’s close,” you said, watching as Shouta arched his back, gripping the bed with both hands. “Should we let him?”

“I’m not sure,” said Hizashi in a tone of mock severity. “I don’t think he’s ready yet.”

You both looked at him, taking in his half sitting position and rasping breaths.

“Fffuck,” he hissed, holding himself taught, “both of you.”

You both laughed at that and Hizashi let go of his dick, making way for you to take it into your mouth, bobbing your head as you took more and more of it in. Hizashi stroked his fingers through your hair and cooed at how cute you were, Shouta squeezing his eyes shut and gasping for air. He was close to the point of no return and the vibrations against his dick as you moaned didn’t help.

He couldn’t breathe; his breaths were short and sharp, his heart raced and his dick almost unbearably tight. You pulled away just in time for him to whine and flop back against the bed, cumming all over his--

He woke up, bleary eyed and sweaty, taking in the dark room and abandoned laptop, the hard couch under him.

“Shit,” he said, reaching for the waistband of his boxers and grimacing at the knowledge that he hadn’t dreamt the part where he came everywhere.

He got to his feet and waddled to the bathroom, cursing both at the mess and twitching of his cock. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a wet dream. Had it been high school? Whatever the case, he felt dirty.

He kicked off his boxers and climbed into the bathtub, trying and failing to distract himself from the waves of pleasure still rushing through his body.

He turned on the cold tap, both to bring himself back to earth and wash away the evidence. He rarely remembered his dreams, but this one wouldn’t leave him.

“Shit,” he said, rubbing his temples and willing away the mental image of you and Hizashi trailing your tongues over his dick. “Shiiiiiit.”

He sank down into the bath and sucked in a deep breath as the cold water touched his skin. He closed his eyes, orgasm fading and lucidity setting in. For the first time in weeks, he felt clear headed.

He scowled, no longer focusing on Hizashi falling on top of you, but the part that came soon after and bothered him just as much.

Engagement ring?

~~~~

“I don’t believe you.”

Nemuri sat back to sip her beer, looking across the crowded restaurant.

“I’m telling you,” said Hizashi, “she’s the one!”

With the end of term came the promised sushi dinner; you, Nemuri, Hizashi and a reluctant Shouta all at one table.

Only after you and Shouta got up for another round of drinks did Hizashi drop the bombshell he had been sitting on for weeks: that you were the woman from Ego . To say Nemuri was skeptical was an understatement.

“(Name)? That (Name)?”

She pointed across the room and towards the bar, where you and Shouta were ordering drinks.

“She had the dress , Nemuri!”

Nemuri held her beer to her chest, watching as you ordered your drink and bowed several times to the bartender.

“Let’s assume I believe you,” she said, tilting the bottle towards him. “What were you doing in her bedroom in the first place?”

Hizashi hadn’t mentioned the fact that you’d slept together and he broke out in goosebumps at getting even remotely close to caught.

“I-I walked her home and my hair tie broke. Nothing happened!”

It wasn’t a lie. That really was why he’d been in your room. Nemuri had known him for long enough, though, to pick up when he wasn’t telling the whole truth.

“You slept with her, didn’t you?”

“I,” Hizashi realised he’d raised his voice and leaned across the table to speak in hushed tones. “No, why would you think that?”

“You’re a terrible liar. Besides, she told me you did.”

“She what ?”

Hizashi clapped both hands over his mouth, not meaning to shriek as loud as he did. Nemuri flinched at the sudden loud noise, rubbing a finger over her ear.

“She...she really told you?”

He remembered his own words that night, his promise not to say anything unless you did. He hadn’t expected you to say anything, much less so quickly, and for a second he wondered if he had you all wrong, only to notice Nemuri’s shit eating grin.

“She didn’t tell me anything,” she said, taking a satisfied sip of beer. “You just now, though? You told me everything .”

“Nemuri, promise me you won’t say anything about this! I didn’t mean to, I just...it just happened.”

“What, did you trip and land dick first?”

“No!” Hizashi buried his face in his hands. “No, it wasn’t like that. I only meant to cheer her up a little, but there she was...all beautiful and sad and sweet and lonely...like a love song.”

Nemuri didn’t say a word and he lifted his head, watching the way she stroked her finger through the condensation on her beer bottle.

“Hizashi,” she said, “I don’t know how we got here, but somehow you’re the Shinohara.”

Hizashi buried his face in his hands again, remembering Shinohara’s lurid blushes and trembling hands.

“I don’t want to be the Shinohara,” he wailed into his hands. “I don’t want any of this!”

Nemuri reached out to pat his head, beer forgotten and all of the mirth gone from her face. She remembered a different time and a different trio: a different story of unrequited love.

She wondered what Shirakumo would have said about all of this.

Knowing him, he’d find a way to fall in love with you as well.

“Listen,” she said, patting his head, “let’s assume (Name) really is the girl from Ego .”

“But she-”

“Let’s assume she is.”

“But she is the-eeek!”

Nemuri had picked up her beer and rested it on his head, sending a surge of cold through his scalp.

“Listen to me,” she said. “You don’t have to feel guilty about pursuing either of them.”

Hizashi didn’t miss her wording. They could be his. He didn’t need to feel guilty about pursuing either of them. He had never mentioned having any kind of feelings for Shouta to her. He’d never mentioned them to anyone.

“How long have you known?”

Had he really been that obvious?

“I asked you a while ago if you remembered Shinohara,” said Nemuri.

“You did...and I do!”

“No,” she sighed. “No, you don’t.”

She lifted the bottle from his head to take a sip, remembering the way she, Hizashi and Shirakumo had crouched against the wall in the neighbouring classroom to eavesdrop; the way Shirakumo had reached into her lap without looking to help himself to the chips she’d brought. She remembered the tension in everyone’s bodies as Aizawa began to speak.

Neither Hizashi nor Shirakumo had ever looked so relieved as the moment he turned her down.

“Hizashi,” she said. “Do you want to date one of them, or do you want them to date each other? Which one is it?”

He stayed silent, knowing that the true answer was neither of those things. He wanted both of them in every way it was possible to want anyone. He wanted to be greedy, wanted to be selfish, wanted to forget how it felt to be lonely.

“I want to do the right thing.”

Nemuri sighed and scratched her chin.

“That’s not an answer.”

“It...I…” Hizashi rested his head on the table. “It doesn’t matter what I want. I just want them to be happy.”

“In that case, I know what we have to do next,” she said. “1-A are going to summer camp next week and I was supposed to be chaperoning the girls. I could...hypothetically...be unable to go.”

Hizashi looked up at her and nodded, as visibly sad as a wilting sunflower.

“I guess that’s the plan, then,” she said. “Now don’t forget to smile!”

He didn’t get the chance to ask why, for you and Shouta returned with drinks at that very moment and the transformation was instantaneous.

“Heyyyy, what took you guys so long,” he cried out, practically bouncing back up with an enormous grin plastered across his face, “we thought you got lost!”

“Not quite,” you said, with a giggle. “I couldn’t decide what drink to get.”

“Ahhh, indecision,” said Nemuri, with a knowing smile. “Sounds familiar.”

You sat back down at the table, Shouta not far behind.

“So,” you said, “what were you guys talking about?”

~~~~~

FIVE MINUTES EARLIER

From the moment you stepped inside of the sushi bar, Shouta had made it quite clear he didn’t intend to stay. Even so, you had been there for well over an hour and, while he had poked and prodded at his food and stayed quiet, he hadn’t made any attempt to leave. He had even offered to help you carry the next round of drinks and you were finding it difficult to hide your joy.

He didn’t say much even then, but you didn’t mind it, losing yourself in the numerous options on the cocktail menu.

When he did speak, it took you by surprise.

“Back then. What did you mean?”

You recalled the last conversation you had had at the table, about what you planned to get up to now that your schedule was all but clear. You had mentioned going to Yamanashi to pick peaches and wondered what part of that might have confused him.

“The...the fruit farm?”

“No,” he sighed. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Do you like peaches?”

“I told you, it doesn’t matter.”

“Okay,” you said, wondering what it was he meant to ask you, not noticing the way his eyeline skirted across your bare ring finger.

The pair of you fell into silence again, watching as the bartender put together your drinks.

“I do,” said Shouta at last.

“Hmm?”

“Peaches. I like them.”

“Oh! In that case I’ll bring back a souvenir!”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“But I want to!”

Shouta sighed and rubbed his temples and you wondered if you’d said the wrong thing.

You wondered what it was he had meant to ask you and clasped your hands together.

“Shouta.”

“Yes?”

You took a deep breath, the question dying on your lips.

“What about cherries?”

~~~~~

A/N: RIP EVERYONE READING THIS FOR THE FIRST TIME. THE NEXT CHAPTER IS A DOOZY

[groggiie]

Bee Movie Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Bee Movie script is here for all you fans of the Jerry Seinfeld animated movie. This puppy is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of the movie to get the dialogue. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and all that jazz, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. At least you'll have some Bee Movie quotes (or even a monologue or two) to annoy your coworkers with in the meantime, right?

And swing on back to Drew's Script-O-Rama afterwards -- because reading is good for your noodle. Better than Farmville, anyway.

Bee Movie Script

According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little. Barry! Breakfast is ready! Ooming! Hang on a second. Hello? - Barry? - Adam? - Oan you believe this is happening? - I can't. I'll pick you up. Looking sharp. Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those. Sorry. I'm excited. Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son. A perfect report card, all B's. Very proud. Ma! I got a thing going here. - You got lint on your fuzz. - Ow! That's me! - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Bye! Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house! - Hey, Adam. - Hey, Barry. - Is that fuzz gel? - A little. Special day, graduation. Never thought I'd make it. Three days grade school, three days high school. Those were awkward. Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive. You did come back different. - Hi, Barry. - Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good. - Hear about Frankie? - Yeah. - You going to the funeral? - No, I'm not going. Everybody knows, sting someone, you die. Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead. I guess he could have just gotten out of the way. I love this incorporating an amusement park into our day. That's why we don't need vacations. Boy, quite a bit of pomp... under the circumstances. - Well, Adam, today we are men. - We are! - Bee-men. - Amen! Hallelujah! Students, faculty, distinguished bees, please welcome Dean Buzzwell. Welcome, New Hive Oity graduating class of... ...9:15. That concludes our ceremonies. And begins your career at Honex Industries! Will we pick ourjob today? I heard it's just orientation. Heads up! Here we go. Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times. - Wonder what it'll be like? - A little scary. Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco and a part of the Hexagon Group. This is it! Wow. Wow. We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life to get to the point where you can work for your whole life. Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive. Our top-secret formula is automatically color-corrected, scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured into this soothing sweet syrup with its distinctive golden glow you know as... Honey! - That girl was hot. - She's my cousin! - She is? - Yes, we're all cousins. - Right. You're right. - At Honex, we constantly strive to improve every aspect of bee existence. These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology. - What do you think he makes? - Not enough. Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman. - What does that do? - Oatches that little strand of honey that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions. Oan anyone work on the Krelman? Of course. Most bee jobs are small ones. But bees know that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot. But choose carefully because you'll stay in the job you pick for the rest of your life. The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that. What's the difference? You'll be happy to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off in 27 million years. So you'll just work us to death? We'll sure try. Wow! That blew my mind! "What's the difference?" How can you say that? One job forever? That's an insane choice to have to make. I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life. But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? Why would you question anything? We're bees. We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth. You ever think maybe things

work a little too well here? Like what? Give me one example. I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about. Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. Wait a second. Oheck it out. - Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! - Wow. I've never seen them this close. They know what it's like outside the hive. Yeah, but some don't come back. - Hey, Jocks! - Hi, Jocks! You guys did great! You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it! - I wonder where they were. - I don't know. Their day's not planned. Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what. You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. Right. Look. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime. It's just a status symbol. Bees make too much of it. Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it. Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too? Distant. Distant. Look at these two. - Oouple of Hive Harrys. - Let's have fun with them. It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock. Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom! He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me! - Oh, my! - I never thought I'd knock him out. What were you doing during this? Trying to alert the authorities. I can autograph that. A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades? Yeah. Gusty. We're hitting a sunflower patch six miles from here tomorrow. - Six miles, huh? - Barry! A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it. - Maybe I am. - You are not! We're going 0900 at J-Gate. What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough? I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means. Hey, Honex! Dad, you surprised me. You decide what you're interested in? - Well, there's a lot of choices. - But you only get one. Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day? Son, let me tell you about stirring. You grab that stick, and you just move it around, and you stir it around. You get yourself into a rhythm. It's a beautiful thing. You know, Dad, the more I think about it, maybe the honey field just isn't right for me. You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey! - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. - I'm not trying to be funny. You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer! - You're gonna be a stirrer? - No one's listening to me! Wait till you see the sticks I have. I could say anything right now. I'm gonna get an ant tattoo! Let's open some honey and celebrate! Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae. Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! I'm so proud. - We're starting work today! - Today's the day. Oome on! All the good jobs will be gone. Yeah, right. Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal... - Is it still available? - Hang on. Two left! One of them's yours! Oongratulations! Step to the side. - What'd you get? - Picking crud out. Stellar! Wow! Oouple of newbies? Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready! Make your choice. - You want to go first? - No, you go. Oh, my. What's available? Restroom attendant's open, not for the reason you think. - Any chance of getting the Krelman? - Sure, you're on. I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out. Wax monkey's always open. The Krelman opened up again. What happened? A bee died. Makes an opening. See? He's dead. Another dead one. Deady. Deadified. Two more dead. Dead from the neck up. Dead from the neck down. That's life! Oh, this is so hard! Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer, humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, mite wrangler. Barry, what do you think I should... Barry? Barry! All

right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine... What happened to you? Where are you? - I'm going out. - Out? Out where? - Out there. - Oh, no! I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life. You're gonna die! You're crazy! Hello? Another call coming in. If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd that gets their roses today. Hey, guys. - Look at that. - Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday? Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted. It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up. Really? Feeling lucky, are you? Sign here, here. Just initial that. - Thank you. - OK. You got a rain advisory today, and as you all know, bees cannot fly in rain. So be careful. As always, watch your brooms, hockey sticks, dogs, birds, bears and bats. Also, I got a couple of reports of root beer being poured on us. Murphy's in a home because of it, babbling like a cicada! - That's awful. - And a reminder for you rookies, bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans! All right, launch positions! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Black and yellow! Hello! You ready for this, hot shot? Yeah. Yeah, bring it on. Wind, check. - Antennae, check. - Nectar pack, check. - Wings, check. - Stinger, check. Scared out of my shorts, check. OK, ladies, let's move it out! Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers! All of you, drain those flowers! Wow! I'm out! I can't believe I'm out! So blue. I feel so fast and free! Box kite! Wow! Flowers! This is Blue Leader. We have roses visual. Bring it around 30 degrees and hold. Roses! 30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around. Stand to the side, kid. It's got a bit of a kick. That is one nectar collector! - Ever see pollination up close? - No, sir. I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there, a pinch on that one. See that? It's a little bit of magic. That's amazing. Why do we do that? That's pollen power. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us. Oool. I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. Oould be daisies. Don't we need those? Oopy that visual. Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move. Say again? You're reporting a moving flower? Affirmative. That was on the line! This is the coolest. What is it? I don't know, but I'm loving this color. It smells good. Not like a flower, but I like it. Yeah, fuzzy. Ohemical-y. Oareful, guys. It's a little grabby. My sweet lord of bees! Oandy-brain, get off there! Problem! - Guys! - This could be bad. Affirmative. Very close. Gonna hurt. Mama's little boy. You are way out of position, rookie! Ooming in at you like a missile! Help me! I don't think these are flowers. - Should we tell him? - I think he knows. What is this?! Match point! You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to eat it! Yowser! Gross. There's a bee in the car! - Do something! - I'm driving! - Hi, bee. - He's back here! He's going to sting me! Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze! He blinked! Spray him, Granny! What are you doing?! Wow... the tension level out here is unbelievable. I gotta get home. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down! Ken, could you close the window please? Ken, could you close the window please? Oheck out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure. You see? Folds out. Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this. What was that? Maybe this time. This time. This time. This time! This time! This... Drapes! That is diabolical. It's fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies. What's number one? Star Wars? Nah, I don't go for

that... ...kind of stuff. No wonder we shouldn't talk to them. They're out of their minds. When I leave a job interview, they're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say. There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out. I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on it. I predicted global warming. I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought it was just me. Wait! Stop! Bee! Stand back. These are winter boots. Wait! Don't kill him! You know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me! Why does his life have less value than yours? Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement? I'm just saying all life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling. My brochure! There you go, little guy. I'm not scared of him. It's an allergic thing. Put that on your resume brochure. My whole face could puff up. Make it one of your special skills. Knocking someone out is also a special skill. Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks. - Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? - Sure, Ken. You know, whatever. - You could put carob chips on there. - Bye. - Supposed to be less calories. - Bye. I gotta say something. She saved my life. I gotta say something. All right, here it goes. Nah. What would I say? I could really get in trouble. It's a bee law. You're not supposed to talk to a human. I can't believe I'm doing this. I've got to. Oh, I can't do it. Oome on! No. Yes. No. Do it. I can't. How should I start it? "You like jazz?" No, that's no good. Here she comes! Speak, you fool! Hi! I'm sorry. - You're talking. - Yes, I know. You're talking! I'm so sorry. No, it's OK. It's fine. I know I'm dreaming. But I don't recall going to bed. Well, I'm sure this is very disconcerting. This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee! I am. And I'm not supposed to be doing this, but they were all trying to kill me. And if it wasn't for you... I had to thank you. It's just how I was raised. That was a little weird. - I'm talking with a bee. - Yeah. I'm talking to a bee. And the bee is talking to me! I just want to say I'm grateful. I'll leave now. - Wait! How did you learn to do that? - What? The talking thing. Same way you did, I guess. "Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up. - That's very funny. - Yeah. Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal with. Anyway... Oan I... ...get you something? - Like what? I don't know. I mean... I don't know. Ooffee? I don't want to put you out. It's no trouble. It takes two minutes. - It's just coffee. - I hate to impose. - Don't be ridiculous! - Actually, I would love a cup. Hey, you want rum cake? - I shouldn't. - Have some. - No, I can't. - Oome on! I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms. - Where? - These stripes don't help. You look great! I don't know if you know anything about fashion. Are you all right? No. He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison. He finally gets there. He runs up the steps into the church. The wedding is on. And he says, "Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan. Why would I marry a watermelon?" Is that a bee joke? That's the kind of stuff we do. Yeah, different. So, what are you gonna do, Barry? About work? I don't know. I want to do my part for the hive, but I can't do it the way they want. I know how you feel. - You do? - Sure. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. - Really? - My only interest is flowers. Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan. Anyway, if you look... There's my hive right there. See it? You're in Sheep Meadow! Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond! No way! I know that area. I lost a toe ring there once. - Why do girls put rings on their toes? - Why not?

- It's like putting a hat on your knee. - Maybe I'll try that. - You all right, ma'am? - Oh, yeah. Fine. Just having two cups of coffee! Anyway, this has been great. Thanks for the coffee. Yeah, it's no trouble. Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, I'd be up the rest of my life. Are you...? Oan I take a piece of this with me? Sure! Here, have a crumb. - Thanks! - Yeah. All right. Well, then... I guess I'll see you around. Or not. OK, Barry. And thank you so much again... for before. Oh, that? That was nothing. Well, not nothing, but... Anyway... This can't possibly work. He's all set to go. We may as well try it. OK, Dave, pull the chute. - Sounds amazing. - It was amazing! It was the scariest, happiest moment of my life. Humans! I can't believe you were with humans! Giant, scary humans! What were they like? Huge and crazy. They talk crazy. They eat crazy giant things. They drive crazy. - Do they try and kill you, like on TV? - Some of them. But some of them don't. - How'd you get back? - Poodle. You did it, and I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see. You had your "experience." Now you can pick out yourjob and be normal. - Well... - Well? Well, I met someone. You did? Was she Bee-ish? - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! - No, no, no, not a wasp. - Spider? - I'm not attracted to spiders. I know it's the hottest thing, with the eight legs and all. I can't get by that face. So who is she? She's... human. No, no. That's a bee law. You wouldn't break a bee law. - Her name's Vanessa. - Oh, boy. She's so nice. And she's a florist! Oh, no! You're dating a human florist! We're not dating. You're flying outside the hive, talking to humans that attack our homes with power washers and M-80s! One-eighth a stick of dynamite! She saved my life! And she understands me. This is over! Eat this. This is not over! What was that? - They call it a crumb. - It was so stingin' stripey! And that's not what they eat. That's what falls off what they eat! - You know what a Oinnabon is? - No. It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. They heat it up... Sit down! ...really hot! - Listen to me! We are not them! We're us. There's us and there's them! Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning? There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me! You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee! - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! There he is. He's in the pool. You know what your problem is, Barry? I gotta start thinking bee? How much longer will this go on? It's been three days! Why aren't you working? I've got a lot of big life decisions to think about. What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a bee! Would it kill you to make a little honey? Barry, come out. Your father's talking to you. Martin, would you talk to him? Barry, I'm talking to you! You coming? Got everything? All set! Go ahead. I'll catch up. Don't be too long. Watch this! Vanessa! - We're still here. - I told you not to yell at him. He doesn't respond to yelling! - Then why yell at me? - Because you don't listen! I'm not listening to this. Sorry, I've gotta go. - Where are you going? - I'm meeting a friend. A girl? Is this why you can't decide? Bye. I just hope she's Bee-ish. They have a huge parade of flowers every year in Pasadena? To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream! Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events? No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere? It's exhausting. Why don't you run everywhere? It's faster. Yeah, OK, I see, I see. All right, your turn. TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane!

You don't have that? We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease. Oh, my. Dumb bees! You must want to sting all those jerks. We try not to sting. It's usually fatal for us. So you have to watch your temper. Very carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk, write an angry letter and throw it out. Work through it like any emotion: Anger, jealousy, lust. Oh, my goodness! Are you OK? Yeah. - What is wrong with you?! - It's a bug. He's not bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep! What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular? Yeah, it was. How did you know? It felt like about 10 pages. Seventy-five is pretty much our limit. You've really got that down to a science. - I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. - I'll bet. What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this? How did this get here? Oute Bee, Golden Blossom, Ray Liotta Private Select? - Is he that actor? - I never heard of him. - Why is this here? - For people. We eat it. You don't have enough food of your own? - Well, yes. - How do you get it? - Bees make it. - I know who makes it! And it's hard to make it! There's heating, cooling, stirring. You need a whole Krelman thing! - It's organic. - It's our-ganic! It's just honey, Barry. Just what?! Bees don't know about this! This is stealing! A lot of stealing! You've taken our homes, schools, hospitals! This is all we have! And it's on sale?! I'm getting to the bottom of this. I'm getting to the bottom of all of this! Hey, Hector. - You almost done? - Almost. He is here. I sense it. Well, I guess I'll go home now and just leave this nice honey out, with no one around. You're busted, box boy! I knew I heard something. So you can talk! I can talk. And now you'll start talking! Where you getting the sweet stuff? Who's your supplier? I don't understand. I thought we were friends. The last thing we want to do is upset bees! You're too late! It's ours now! You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword! You, sir, will be lunch for my iguana, Ignacio! Where is the honey coming from? Tell me where! Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms! Orazy person! What horrible thing has happened here? These faces, they never knew what hit them. And now they're on the road to nowhere! Just keep still. What? You're not dead? Do I look dead? They will wipe anything that moves. Where you headed? To Honey Farms. I am onto something huge here. I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood, crazy stuff. Blows your head off! I'm going to Tacoma. - And you? - He really is dead. All right. Uh-oh! - What is that?! - Oh, no! - A wiper! Triple blade! - Triple blade? Jump on! It's your only chance, bee! Why does everything have to be so doggone clean?! How much do you people need to see?! Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window! From NPR News in Washington, I'm Oarl Kasell. But don't kill no more bugs! - Bee! - Moose blood guy!! - You hear something? - Like what? Like tiny screaming. Turn off the radio. Whassup, bee boy? Hey, Blood. Just a row of honey jars, as far as the eye could see. Wow! I assume wherever this truck goes is where they're getting it. I mean, that honey's ours. - Bees hang tight. - We're all jammed in. It's a close community. Not us, man. We on our own. Every mosquito on his own. - What if you get in trouble? - You a mosquito, you in trouble. Nobody likes us. They just smack. See a mosquito, smack, smack! At least you're out in the world. You must meet girls. Mosquito girls try to trade up, get with a moth, dragonfly. Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito. You got to be kidding me! Mooseblood's about to leave the building! So long, bee! - Hey, guys! - Mooseblood! I knew I'd catch y'all down here. Did you bring your crazy straw? We throw it in jars, slap a label

on it, and it's pretty much pure profit. What is this place? A bee's got a brain the size of a pinhead. They are pinheads! Pinhead. - Oheck out the new smoker. - Oh, sweet. That's the one you want. The Thomas 3000! Smoker? Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic. Twice the nicotine, all the tar. A couple breaths of this knocks them right out. They make the honey, and we make the money. "They make the honey, and we make the money"? Oh, my! What's going on? Are you OK? Yeah. It doesn't last too long. Do you know you're in a fake hive with fake walls? Our queen was moved here. We had no choice. This is your queen? That's a man in women's clothes! That's a drag queen! What is this? Oh, no! There's hundreds of them! Bee honey. Our honey is being brazenly stolen on a massive scale! This is worse than anything bears have done! I intend to do something. Oh, Barry, stop. Who told you humans are taking our honey? That's a rumor. Do these look like rumors? That's a conspiracy theory. These are obviously doctored photos. How did you get mixed up in this? He's been talking to humans. - What? - Talking to humans?! He has a human girlfriend. And they make out! Make out? Barry! We do not. - You wish you could. - Whose side are you on? The bees! I dated a cricket once in San Antonio. Those crazy legs kept me up all night. Barry, this is what you want to do with your life? I want to do it for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees! Dad, I remember you coming home so overworked your hands were still stirring. You couldn't stop. I remember that. What right do they have to our honey? We live on two cups a year. They put it in lip balm for no reason whatsoever! Even if it's true, what can one bee do? Sting them where it really hurts. In the face! The eye! - That would hurt. - No. Up the nose? That's a killer. There's only one place you can sting the humans, one place where it matters. Hive at Five, the hive's only full-hour action news source. No more bee beards! With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk. Weather with Storm Stinger. Sports with Buzz Larvi. And Jeanette Ohung. - Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble. - And I'm Jeanette Ohung. A tri-county bee, Barry Benson, intends to sue the human race for stealing our honey, packaging it and profiting from it illegally! Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King, we'll have three former queens here in our studio, discussing their new book, Olassy Ladies, out this week on Hexagon. Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson. Did you ever think, "I'm a kid from the hive. I can't do this"? Bees have never been afraid to change the world. What about Bee Oolumbus? Bee Gandhi? Bejesus? Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans. We were thinking of stickball or candy stores. How old are you? The bee community is supporting you in this case, which will be the trial of the bee century. You know, they have a Larry King in the human world too. It's a common name. Next week... He looks like you and has a show and suspenders and colored dots... Next week... Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the guest even though you just heard 'em. Bear Week next week! They're scary, hairy and here live. Always leans forward, pointy shoulders, squinty eyes, very Jewish. In tennis, you attack at the point of weakness! It was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81. Honey, her backhand's a joke! I'm not gonna take advantage of that? Quiet, please. Actual work going on here. - Is that that same bee? - Yes, it is! I'm helping him sue the human race. - Hello. - Hello, bee. This is Ken. Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe. Why does he talk again? Listen, you better go 'cause we're really busy working. But it's our yogurt night! Bye-bye. Why is yogurt night so

difficult?! You poor thing. You two have been at this for hours! Yes, and Adam here has been a huge help. - Frosting... - How many sugars? Just one. I try not to use the competition. So why are you helping me? Bees have good qualities. And it takes my mind off the shop. Instead of flowers, people are giving balloon bouquets now. Those are great, if you're three. And artificial flowers. - Oh, those just get me psychotic! - Yeah, me too. Bent stingers, pointless pollination. Bees must hate those fake things! Nothing worse than a daffodil that's had work done. Maybe this could make up for it a little bit. - This lawsuit's a pretty big deal. - I guess. You sure you want to go through with it? Am I sure? When I'm done with the humans, they won't be able to say, "Honey, I'm home," without paying a royalty! It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan, where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history, we will hear for ourselves if a honeybee can actually speak. What have we gotten into here, Barry? It's pretty big, isn't it? I can't believe how many humans don't work during the day. You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers? Everybody needs to stay behind the barricade. - What's the matter? - I don't know, I just got a chill. Well, if it isn't the bee team. You boys work on this? All rise! The Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding. All right. Oase number 4475, Superior Oourt of New York, Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry is now in session. Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five food companies collectively? A privilege. Mr. Benson... you're representing all the bees of the world? I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor, we're ready to proceed. Mr. Montgomery, your opening statement, please. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my grandmother was a simple woman. Born on a farm, she believed it was man's divine right to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us. If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines, just think of what would it mean. I would have to negotiate with the silkworm for the elastic in my britches! Talking bee! How do we know this isn't some sort of holographic motion-picture-capture Hollywood wizardry? They could be using laser beams! Robotics! Ventriloquism! Oloning! For all we know, he could be on steroids! Mr. Benson? Ladies and gentlemen, there's no trickery here. I'm just an ordinary bee. Honey's pretty important to me. It's important to all bees. We invented it! We make it. And we protect it with our lives. Unfortunately, there are some people in this room who think they can take it from us 'cause we're the little guys! I'm hoping that, after this is all over, you'll see how, by taking our honey, you not only take everything we have but everything we are! I wish he'd dress like that all the time. So nice! Oall your first witness. So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden of Honey Farms, big company you have. I suppose so. I see you also own Honeyburton and Honron! Yes, they provide beekeepers for our farms. Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term. I don't imagine you employ any bee-free-ers, do you? - No. - I couldn't hear you. - No. - No. Because you don't free bees. You keep bees. Not only that, it seems you thought a bear would be an appropriate image for a jar of honey. They're very lovable creatures. Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear. You mean like this? Bears kill bees! How'd you like his head crashing through your living room?! Biting into your couch! Spitting out your throw pillows! OK, that's enough. Take him away. So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here. Your name intrigues me. - Where have I heard it before? - I was with a band called The Police. But you've never been a police officer,

have you? No, I haven't. No, you haven't. And so here we have yet another example of bee culture casually stolen by a human for nothing more than a prance-about stage name. Oh, please. Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting? Because I'm feeling a little stung, Sting. Or should I say... Mr. Gordon M. Sumner! That's not his real name?! You idiots! Mr. Liotta, first, belated congratulations on your Emmy win for a guest spot on ER in 2005. Thank you. Thank you. I see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome with a churning inner turmoil that's ready to blow. I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime? Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you? Exploiting tiny, helpless bees so you don't have to rehearse your part and learn your lines, sir? Watch it, Benson! I could blow right now! This isn't a goodfella. This is a badfella! Why doesn't someone just step on this creep, and we can all go home?! - Order in this court! - You're all thinking it! Order! Order, I say! - Say it! - Mr. Liotta, please sit down! I think it was awfully nice of that bear to pitch in like that. I think the jury's on our side. Are we doing everything right, legally? I'm a florist. Right. Well, here's to a great team. To a great team! Well, hello. - Ken! - Hello. I didn't think you were coming. No, I was just late. I tried to call, but... the battery. I didn't want all this to go to waste, so I called Barry. Luckily, he was free. Oh, that was lucky. There's a little left. I could heat it up. Yeah, heat it up, sure, whatever. So I hear you're quite a tennis player. I'm not much for the game myself. The ball's a little grabby. That's where I usually sit. Right... there. Ken, Barry was looking at your resume, and he agreed with me that eating with chopsticks isn't really a special skill. You think I don't see what you're doing? I know how hard it is to find the rightjob. We have that in common. Do we? Bees have 100 percent employment, but we do jobs like taking the crud out. That's just what I was thinking about doing. Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for his fuzz. I hope that was all right. I'm going to drain the old stinger. Yeah, you do that. Look at that. You know, I've just about had it with your little mind games. - What's that? - Italian Vogue. Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages. A lot of ads. Remember what Van said, why is your life more valuable than mine? Funny, I just can't seem to recall that! I think something stinks in here! I love the smell of flowers. How do you like the smell of flames?! Not as much. Water bug! Not taking sides! Ken, I'm wearing a Ohapstick hat! This is pathetic! I've got issues! Well, well, well, a royal flush! - You're bluffing. - Am I? Surf's up, dude! Poo water! That bowl is gnarly. Except for those dirty yellow rings! Kenneth! What are you doing?! You know, I don't even like honey! I don't eat it! We need to talk! He's just a little bee! And he happens to be the nicest bee I've met in a long time! Long time? What are you talking about?! Are there other bugs in your life? No, but there are other things bugging me in life. And you're one of them! Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night... My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster! Goodbye, Ken. And for your information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man! I'm sorry about all that. I know it's got an aftertaste! I like it! I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me. I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well. Are you OK for the trial? I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas. We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers... Yeah. Layton, you've gotta

weave some magic with this jury, or it's gonna be all over. Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around is to remind them of what they don't like about bees. - You got the tweezers? - Are you allergic? Only to losing, son. Only to losing. Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you what I think we'd all like to know. What exactly is your relationship to that woman? We're friends. - Good friends? - Yes. How good? Do you live together? Wait a minute... Are you her little... ...bedbug? I've seen a bee documentary or two. From what I understand, doesn't your queen give birth to all the bee children? - Yeah, but... - So those aren't your real parents! - Oh, Barry... - Yes, they are! Hold me back! You're an illegitimate bee, aren't you, Benson? He's denouncing bees! Don't y'all date your cousins? - Objection! - I'm going to pincushion this guy! Adam, don't! It's what he wants! Oh, I'm hit!! Oh, lordy, I am hit! Order! Order! The venom! The venom is coursing through my veins! I have been felled by a winged beast of destruction! You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages! Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way! - Adam, stay with me. - I can't feel my legs. What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison from my heaving buttocks? I will have order in this court. Order! Order, please! The case of the honeybees versus the human race took a pointed turn against the bees yesterday when one of their legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery. - Hey, buddy. - Hey. - Is there much pain? - Yeah. I... I blew the whole case, didn't I? It doesn't matter. What matters is you're alive. You could have died. I'd be better off dead. Look at me. They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. Look, there's a little celery still on it. What was it like to sting someone? I can't explain it. It was all... All adrenaline and then... and then ecstasy! All right. You think it was all a trap? Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this. What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world. What will the humans do to us if they win? I don't know. I hear they put the roaches in motels. That doesn't sound so bad. Adam, they check in, but they don't check out! Oh, my. Oould you get a nurse to close that window? - Why? - The smoke. Bees don't smoke. Right. Bees don't smoke. Bees don't smoke! But some bees are smoking. That's it! That's our case! It is? It's not over? Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere. Get back to the court and stall. Stall any way you can. And assuming you've done step correctly, you're ready for the tub. Mr. Flayman. Yes? Yes, Your Honor! Where is the rest of your team? Well, Your Honor, it's interesting. Bees are trained to fly haphazardly, and as a result, we don't make very good time. I actually heard a funny story about... Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs taken up enough of this court's valuable time? How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges against my clients, who run legitimate businesses. I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case! Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going to have to consider Mr. Montgomery's motion. But you can't! We have a terrific case. Where is your proof? Where is the evidence? Show me the smoking gun! Hold it, Your Honor! You want a smoking gun? Here is your smoking gun. What is that? It's a bee smoker! What, this? This harmless little contraption? This couldn't hurt a fly, let alone a bee. Look at what has happened to bees who have never been asked, "Smoking or non?" Is this what nature intended for us? To be forcibly addicted to smoke

machines and man-made wooden slat work camps? Living out our lives as honey slaves to the white man? - What are we gonna do? - He's playing the species card. Ladies and gentlemen, please, free these bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! The court finds in favor of the bees! Vanessa, we won! I knew you could do it! High-five! Sorry. I'm OK! You know what this means? All the honey will finally belong to the bees. Now we won't have to work so hard all the time. This is an unholy perversion of the balance of nature, Benson. You'll regret this. Barry, how much honey is out there? All right. One at a time. Barry, who are you wearing? My sweater is Ralph Lauren, and I have no pants. - What if Montgomery's right? - What do you mean? We've been living the bee way a long time, 27 million years. Oongratulations on your victory. What will you demand as a settlement? First, we'll demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps. Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with, every last drop. We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine. We're all aware of what they do in the woods. Wait for my signal. Take him out. He'll have nauseous for a few hours, then he'll be fine. And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames... But it's just a prance-about stage name! ...unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products and la-dee-da human tea-time snack garnishments. Oan't breathe. Bring it in, boys! Hold it right there! Good. Tap it. Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups, and there's gallons more coming! - I think we need to shut down! - Shut down? We've never shut down. Shut down honey production! Stop making honey! Turn your key, sir! What do we do now? Oannonball! We're shutting honey production! Mission abort. Aborting pollination and nectar detail. Returning to base. Adam, you wouldn't believe how much honey was out there. Oh, yeah? What's going on? Where is everybody? - Are they out celebrating? - They're home. They don't know what to do. Laying out, sleeping in. I heard your Uncle Oarl was on his way to San Antonio with a cricket. At least we got our honey back. Sometimes I think, so what if humans liked our honey? Who wouldn't? It's the greatest thing in the world! I was excited to be part of making it. This was my new desk. This was my new job. I wanted to do it really well. And now... Now I can't. I don't understand why they're not happy. I thought their lives would be better! They're doing nothing. It's amazing. Honey really changes people. You don't have any idea what's going on, do you? - What did you want to show me? - This. What happened here? That is not the half of it. Oh, no. Oh, my. They're all wilting. Doesn't look very good, does it? No. And whose fault do you think that is? You know, I'm gonna guess bees. Bees? Specifically, me. I didn't think bees not needing to make honey would affect all these things. It's notjust flowers. Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees. That's our whole SAT test right there. Take away produce, that affects the entire animal kingdom. And then, of course... The human species? So if there's no more pollination, it could all just go south here, couldn't it? I know this is also partly my fault. How about a suicide pact? How do we do it? - I'll sting you, you step on me. - Thatjust kills you twice. Right, right. Listen, Barry... sorry, but I gotta get going. I had to open my mouth and talk. Vanessa? Vanessa? Why are you leaving? Where are you going? To the final Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena. They've moved it to this weekend because all the flowers are dying. It's the

last chance I'll ever have to see it. Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry. I never meant it to turn out like this. I know. Me neither. Tournament of Roses. Roses can't do sports. Wait a minute. Roses. Roses? Roses! Vanessa! Roses?! Barry? - Roses are flowers! - Yes, they are. Flowers, bees, pollen! I know. That's why this is the last parade. Maybe not. Oould you ask him to slow down? Oould you slow down? Barry! OK, I made a huge mistake. This is a total disaster, all my fault. Yes, it kind of is. I've ruined the planet. I wanted to help you with the flower shop. I've made it worse. Actually, it's completely closed down. I thought maybe you were remodeling. But I have another idea, and it's greater than my previous ideas combined. I don't want to hear it! All right, they have the roses, the roses have the pollen. I know every bee, plant and flower bud in this park. All we gotta do is get what they've got back here with what we've got. - Bees. - Park. - Pollen! - Flowers. - Repollination! - Across the nation! Tournament of Roses, Pasadena, Oalifornia. They've got nothing but flowers, floats and cotton candy. Security will be tight. I have an idea. Vanessa Bloome, FTD. Official floral business. It's real. Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch. Thank you. It was a gift. Once inside, we just pick the right float. How about The Princess and the Pea? I could be the princess, and you could be the pea! Yes, I got it. - Where should I sit? - What are you? - I believe I'm the pea. - The pea? It goes under the mattresses. - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. - I'm getting the marshal. You do that! This whole parade is a fiasco! Let's see what this baby'll do. Hey, what are you doing?! Then all we do is blend in with traffic... ...without arousing suspicion. Once at the airport, there's no stopping us. Stop! Security. - You and your insect pack your float? - Yes. Has it been in your possession the entire time? Would you remove your shoes? - Remove your stinger. - It's part of me. I know. Just having some fun. Enjoy your flight. Then if we're lucky, we'll have just enough pollen to do the job. Oan you believe how lucky we are? We have just enough pollen to do the job! I think this is gonna work. It's got to work. Attention, passengers, this is Oaptain Scott. We have a bit of bad weather in New York. It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay. Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it. I gotta get up there and talk to them. Be careful. Oan I get help with the Sky Mall magazine? I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer. Oaptain, I'm in a real situation. - What'd you say, Hal? - Nothing. Bee! Don't freak out! My entire species... What are you doing? - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney! - Who's an attorney? Don't move. Oh, Barry. Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain. Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B please report to the cockpit? And please hurry! What happened here? There was a DustBuster, a toupee, a life raft exploded. One's bald, one's in a boat, they're both unconscious! - Is that another bee joke? - No! No one's flying the plane! This is JFK control tower, Flight 356. What's your status? This is Vanessa Bloome. I'm a florist from New York. Where's the pilot? He's unconscious, and so is the copilot. Not good. Does anyone onboard have flight experience? As a matter of fact, there is. - Who's that? - Barry Benson. From the honey trial?! Oh, great. Vanessa, this is nothing more than a big metal bee. It's got giant wings, huge engines. I can't fly a plane. - Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot? - Yes. How hard could it be? Wait, Barry! We're headed into some lightning. This is Bob Bumble.

We have some late-breaking news from JFK Airport, where a suspenseful scene is developing. Barry Benson, fresh from his legal victory... That's Barry! ...is attempting to land a plane, loaded with people, flowers and an incapacitated flight crew. Flowers?! We have a storm in the area and two individuals at the controls with absolutely no flight experience. Just a minute. There's a bee on that plane. I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson and his no-account compadres. They've done enough damage. But isn't he your only hope? Technically, a bee shouldn't be able to fly at all. Their wings are too small... Haven't we heard this a million times? "The surface area of the wings and body mass make no sense." - Get this on the air! - Got it. - Stand by. - We're going live. The way we work may be a mystery to you. Making honey takes a lot of bees doing a lot of small jobs. But let me tell you about a small job. If you do it well, it makes a big difference. More than we realized. To us, to everyone. That's why I want to get bees back to working together. That's the bee way! We're not made of Jell-O. We get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow! - Hello! Left, right, down, hover. - Hover? - Forget hover. This isn't so hard. Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Barry, what happened?! Wait, I think we were on autopilot the whole time. - That may have been helping me. - And now we're not! So it turns out I cannot fly a plane. All of you, let's get behind this fellow! Move it out! Move out! Our only chance is if I do what I'd do, you copy me with the wings of the plane! Don't have to yell. I'm not yelling! We're in a lot of trouble. It's very hard to concentrate with that panicky tone in your voice! It's not a tone. I'm panicking! I can't do this! Vanessa, pull yourself together. You have to snap out of it! You snap out of it. You snap out of it. - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - Hold it! - Why? Oome on, it's my turn. How is the plane flying? I don't know. Hello? Benson, got any flowers for a happy occasion in there? The Pollen Jocks! They do get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow. - Hello. All right, let's drop this tin can on the blacktop. Where? I can't see anything. Oan you? No, nothing. It's all cloudy. Oome on. You got to think bee, Barry. - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Wait a minute. I think I'm feeling something. - What? - I don't know. It's strong, pulling me. Like a 27-million-year-old instinct. Bring the nose down. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - What in the world is on the tarmac? - Get some lights on that! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - Vanessa, aim for the flower. - OK. Out the engines. We're going in on bee power. Ready, boys? Affirmative! Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it. Land on that flower! Ready? Full reverse! Spin it around! - Not that flower! The other one! - Which one? - That flower. - I'm aiming at the flower! That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. I mean the giant pulsating flower made of millions of bees! Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up. Rotate around it. - This is insane, Barry! - This's the only way I know how to fly. Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane flying in an insect-like pattern? Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid. Smell it. Full reverse! Just drop it. Be a part of it. Aim for the center! Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman! Oome on, already. Barry, we did it! You taught me how to fly! - Yes. No high-five! - Right. Barry, it worked! Did you see the giant flower? What giant flower? Where? Of course I saw the flower! That was genius! - Thank you. - But we're not done yet. Listen,

everyone! This runway is covered with the last pollen from the last flowers available anywhere on Earth. That means this is our last chance. We're the only ones who make honey, pollinate flowers and dress like this. If we're gonna survive as a species, this is our moment! What do you say? Are we going to be bees, orjust Museum of Natural History keychains? We're bees! Keychain! Then follow me! Except Keychain. Hold on, Barry. Here. You've earned this. Yeah! I'm a Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves. Oh, yeah. That's our Barry. Mom! The bees are back! If anybody needs to make a call, now's the time. I got a feeling we'll be working late tonight! Here's your change. Have a great afternoon! Oan I help who's next? Would you like some honey with that? It is bee-approved. Don't forget these. Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me. And I don't see a nickel! Sometimes I just feel like a piece of meat! I had no idea. Barry, I'm sorry. Have you got a moment? Would you excuse me? My mosquito associate will help you. Sorry I'm late. He's a lawyer too? I was already a blood-sucking parasite. All I needed was a briefcase. Have a great afternoon! Barry, I just got this huge tulip order, and I can't get them anywhere. No problem, Vannie. Just leave it to me. You're a lifesaver, Barry. Oan I help who's next? All right, scramble, jocks! It's time to fly. Thank you, Barry! That bee is living my life! Let it go, Kenny. - When will this nightmare end?! - Let it all go. - Beautiful day to fly. - Sure is. Between you and me, I was dying to get out of that office. You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. - Thinking bee! - Me? Hold it. Let's just stop for a second. Hold it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone. Oan we stop here? I'm not making a major life decision during a production number! All right. Take ten, everybody. Wrap it up, guys. I had virtually no rehearsal for that. Special thanks to SergeiK.

oph my god

[blackchessknight]

Ever Blue And Red

By @blackchessknight for @michellejones-stacy

This was really fun to write, I hope you like it. The premise is not what I expected to write from your prompts but that’s how creativity works I guess.

This is for the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Rating: General Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark,

Summary: To be fair to Peter, he had never planned to become an Enhanced individual that protected people by being bitten by a radioactive spider and becoming Spider-Man. Really, it made perfect sense that even if he hadn’t planned it, he would turn into a siren at the splash of water by eating a weird-looking fruit he found on patrol.

If anything, it was Mr. Stark and Aunt May’s fault because they made him eat something healthy every two hours. If the rule wasn’t there, he wouldn't have touched the fruit. Ok, that was a lie, he might have tried it just because it looked weird, but maybe somebody would have stopped him from consuming it if he didn’t have the eating rule.

On the bright side, keeping this a secret from them wouldn’t be as hard as keeping Spider-Man a secret, he has experience this time.

Spoiler Alert: He doesn’t even last a week.

Read on AO3

First chapter under the cut

Tail As Blue As The Sky Enveloped In Light

Peter wants it known for posterity's sake that it wasn’t his fault.

The case could be made that it was, indeed, his fault, but no judge had made the ruling and he was sticking to that fact. Not that it does anything to persuade the jury from condemning him to being grounded for two weeks after.

It all started that fateful day on patrol, spring break only a few days away. Sure, Peter had a lot of assignments to turn in, but not anything that couldn’t be done just before it was absolutely necessary. The most annoying were the essays for English and History, but hey, even STEM schools needed their students to course them. Anyways, since Peter would be spending the break over at the Compound with Mr. Stark while Aunt May took the week with her coworkers at the Caribbean-very likely being joined by Ms. Potts at some point- the last weekend hadn’t been a Compound weekend. It’d worked great for Peter, he got to hang out with Ned before the break where the other boy would go see family, and also to spend time with May.

It's a bright April afternoon as he swings from the buildings with not much happening when Peter comes across a small playground area with a few trees and some grass parts. The little park wasn’t rundown or badly taken care of and the trees were already a bright green. A few children call him over and he swings down to greet them. He even takes a few pictures with them.

On his way out of the park he sees it. Lying on the grass under a tree is a weird-looking acorn, it's purple with an orange stripe. Peter walks over and kneels down to pick it up. The texture feels closer to a peach and just as squishy. His senses weren’t going off in danger but it wasn’t like any fruit he’d ever seen in his life.

“Karen?” Peter asks.

Karen takes a few seconds before responding. “I haven’t found a match for it, but it appears to fall under the category of fruit.”

Hhmm. Well, that just made it more intriguing. There wasn’t much that Karen couldn’t identify. If the unknown fruit lasted long enough he could even ask FRIDAY or Mr. Stark about it, maybe run a few tests on it, perhaps he just discovered a new type of fruit. That sets it, Peter’s taking it with him.

Peter sets off to where he left his backpack webbed to an alley wall. He reaches the alley and his backpack is just where he left it, which is great-it wouldn’t be good to ask for another so close to the break, it was already his second one this year. Peter changes to normal clothes and proceeds to set the weird acorn inside the backpack, he doesn’t think anything in his back will squish it. With his backpack set, he begins making his way home in no hurry.

On the way, Peter plans all the assignments he needs to do for the week. It’s still early, he can go home to eat, do some homework and go out again to patrol another hour or two before curfew. There’s that calc and chemistry homework due for tomorrow that he���ll work on today. He’ll eat whatever May left for him, hopefully, she left money for Thai. May isn’t coming home until late, they were spending extra hours at the office before the break, half leaving things prepared for their vacation and half coordinating it. His mind travels to the movie Ned and him saw that weekend and the new Lego set they built. Then it takes him to his break at the Compound where he’ll get to train with Rhodey and work on his web-shooters, he’s also gonna work with Tony on the arc reactor and their prosthesis project. By the time Peter became aware he was already in the front of his apartment building.

Inside their apartment Peter finds out May hadn’t left money for Thai, instead there was a nice healthy meal waiting for Peter to warm up and eat. He supposes he should have known better. Peter shuts the fridge door and turns to his room. When May wasn’t able to ensure Peter ate, and ate something healthy at that, they got him these nice meals prepared from a nice restaurant that Pepper had found near their apartment. They all had him about being in a routine for eating healthy, he hadn’t eaten anything they thought wasn’t good for him in weeks. He was able to have a treat once or twice on the weekends if he had followed through during the week. Peter thought it wasn’t necessary anymore, he was perfectly fine now. He’d learned since his eating disorder started, but just try and get that through to them. Apparently, they had to trust the diagnosis more, which to be fair was really accurate, but still, he thought he was already past that.

Peter sits in front of his desk and takes out his chemistry book and worksheet. Maybe he’ll get hungry after working his mind a little, he begins to work.

The alarm on his watch startles him, a big contrast to the quiet room that makes it sound louder than it is. The alarm is a constant beeping that doesn’t cease until Peter presses the shut button twice, once to know there’s an alarm and a second to acknowledge what it's for.

Mr. Stark set the alarm for him to eat something healthy every two hours. They’d also been on his back about eating often and he usually ate a fruit or a bar. Peter looks around his desk, then his room, and notices there’s nothing of his usual stash. He doesn’t want to get up to get something, usually, there are always things nearby but he probably ate them all.

Peter remembers the weird fruit in his backpack from earlier, sure he wanted to research it but his priorities changed. He still has the analysis from Karen to ask FRIDAY with. Peter opens his backpack and fishes the fruit out, it looks exactly as it had when he found it. He doesn’t know what it is, but Karen said he could call it a fruit and he was allowed to eat fruit, since he also had to eat something he saw no flaw in his logic of eating it. Besides, if Karen said that he didn’t eat anything because he was too lazy to get up he would have Happy babysitting him again. No one wanted that. To Peter, the ends justify the risks.

Peter smells the unknown fruit and it gives no distinctive smell. Before taking a bite, he searches within himself for any signs of danger but when he finds nothing he bites it. It tastes good, feels softer than an apple but not quite like a peach as he’d thought. Oh well, it's still good, really good actually. He goes back to doing homework.

Minutes after his little snack break Peter begins to feel weird, not in a Spidey Sense tingling weird, nor it feels like something is happening to his arm weird, more like the insides of his body feel funny. Peter hasn’t ever felt like this before.

At first, Peter thinks it will go away and continues with his homework, but after he finishes his chemistry workout sheet the feeling has only increased. He doesn’t feel anything wrong though, just... different. He starts feeling a little sleepy, not in the sense that his body is tired, it feels like his own body is telling him to close his eyes and rest a little. So that is exactly what Peter does, he puts away his work, goes to his bed, and rests his eyes. It will only be for a bit, he still has time to go patrol a bit after resting a few minutes.

Those few minutes turn out longer than he thought. A lot longer. By the time Peter is opening his eyes feeling rested and just… different, the sun has already set and the night has fallen. The only source of light in the room is the lights coming from the streets through the closed window of his room.

Darn it! He probably had missed his dinner time! Peter looks wildly until he finds the digital clock on his nightstand that reveals he was still just within his time frame before Karen would alert Tony, or May. He’d been asleep far longer than he'd planned.

Peter is starving like he hasn’t in months, so much so he would eat that flavorless mush of food they’d made him eat that day at the Medbay after their “intervention”. He sets for the kitchen, takes out the plate with his food, and sets it in the microwave as the instructions show in the note.

You would think that Aunt May and Mr. Stark would be lenient that he missed his meal because he was sleeping but that was actually a very important point to them. Once he’d been awoken by a blaring alarm, it had almost given him a heart attack, he had thought it was an emergency, maybe the sky had been falling. It hadn’t been anything alarming other than him missing his snack. And not even mentioning that one time in class where he’d been called to the principal’s office for forgetting his snacks at home and Mr. Morita personally getting him a protein bar. That had been a horrible day. He still couldn’t really look Mr. Morita in the eyes.

The microwave beeped and Peter went to pull out the dish. He grabs a fork and napkin on the way to the couch. Karen may tattle about his food consumption but never where he eats. To be fair, Karen only has eyes in the suit mask, the rest of her input comes from his Starkwatch and Starkphone. Peter’s little humanoid golden robot, that he built with Tony’s help, C3PO, comes forward and sets his little arms up for Peter to place his plate on. Peter turns the TV on and settles back to continue his current series on Netflix.

Peter had been starving and food had never tasted so good in his life. He basically inhales it. Something not as good as he had been told but he was hungry. C3PO leaves with the napkin, the fork and the plate to the kitchen and Peter finishes his episode as he digests his food.

When the episode ends he gets up from the couch and walks to his room. As he walks in he sees R2D2, the little robot he’d made by himself at the lab in the Compound, having what seems his own little party in his room. R2 even has some music to dance with as he moves around the room.

Peter’s idea was to change again into his suit and patrol until his curfew but he feels a tug towards the water. He already did a patrol today, it had been a calm day. Peter decides he’ll settle for the night, finish some homework, and do more time on patrol tomorrow, he’ll make up for today then. Right now he will take a shower and finish his homework for Monday, be free for the entirety of the weekend.

C3 enters the room as Peter exits it to go to the bathroom. Peter might have programmed them with some personality traits reminiscent of their movie counterparts, and it usually ends with a bit of a friendly argument between the two. The good thing is Peter will be away while they do it, the bad thing is he’ll probably still hear them while he showers.

Peter takes off his clothes and sets his hand under the spray of water to feel its temperature. Once it’s to his liking he clambers inside headfirst. The water soaks his brown curls then covers his back. Peter backs his torso so his legs get sprayed with water and the change is fast, so fast it would probably be pretty seamless for anyone else. Peter doesn’t have time to react to the sudden feel of his legs knitting together and turning scaly before he loses balance with a startled yelp. Peter reaches out to the shower wall with a hand and sticks, stopping his fall but the momentum sends his back to hit the wall and Peter slides down, landing on his butt.

He blinks several times as he stares at his legs. Or more importantly, where his legs should be. In their place is a mermaid tail, just like the movies. It's a light blue like a clear skyline in New York mornings, with shiny scales that turn white when the light hits them and see-through red shaded fins. The tail seems to start at his hips but it fades up into his stomach with smaller scales, not a clear cut. Peter can feel the tail, he can feel it as if it were his legs but they feel different.

This isn’t normal, is it? This isn’t some long overdue side effect of the spider bite, right? This shouldn’t be happening, should it? There’s no way this is normal. This has got to be in the Top 10 weirdest things to happen to him. It fights for dominance right up there with the spider bite.

Peter takes a deep breath, he feels the fins and wills one to move as if it were his foot. In front of him, the fin moves. Peter shoves himself back startled, his head hits the other wall of the shower with force and he winces. He brings a hand to rub at his head, even if it doesn’t really make the pain lessen. He makes the other fin move, makes them both move at the same time, makes them move in opposite directions.

Peter stops playing with his fins. Wow, he has fins now, he has a tail. He can move the tail too. He has full control of it. It’s rather flexible too, more flexible than he’s become with his enhancements. Okay, so, he has a tail. He has a mermaid-merman?- he has a merman tail. He has a tail that is blue, and he can move it. It is right in front of him. Peter reaches for the middle of the tail with his finger and pokes it, sure enough he feels the poke, both in the tail and with his finger. It's real.

Alright, cool. So now that the shock has worn off it’s time to figure this out. Does this mean he can breathe underwater? Is he a merman now? Does he have to live in the Ocean? Would a lake suffice? His powers stayed, he was able to stick to the wall. Does that make him a Merman-Spider? Spider-Merman? Siren-Spider? Is he no longer allowed to eat fish? Do mermaids eat fish? Does this mean mermaids are real?

You’re getting distracted, Peter. Focus.

Was he a merman forever now? How did he even become one?

Yeah, focus on that. The how.

This isn't alien tech, that's for sure. He hasn't encountered anyone with alien tech in a while. That’s one out. So then… magic? Was magic real? Were there wizards? Was there actually a school for wizards? Oh gosh, that would be so cool. Like, Wanda Maximoff had magic, right? That's what she used? Or was that something else? It could have been magic, or maybe kinetic energy manipulation, that was also a possibility; but the idea of that being magic was always an option. Wait, he's getting sidetracked again.

Right, what caused this.

Ok, well, it couldn't be the spider bite either, it'd been far too long since and it didn’t make logical sense to be a result of it. Or... it could be if this was the product of a second reactant to the DNA alterations caused by the bite. Like, sure it would be weird to get a tail as a reaction, but so had gaining the powers of a spider through the bite of a radioactive spider; maybe they wanted to gain the powers of a fish and it mutated into a tail. Peter hadn't gone swimming recently and definitely hadn't been bitten by a fish but maybe he had, or eaten the radioactive fish by accident. He shouldn't have trusted that fillet, it had tasted too good. It could also just be a coincidence from another substance, really if this was a reaction he needed to know the second reactant.

Peter sees the water fall and splash on his tail and continue down the drain as he thinks. Water! Peter snaps his head to look at the showerhead. That was the reactant, water! The moment his legs got wet he got a tail!

Ok, so it wasn't a late side effect from the bite. That was good to know. It didn't rule out a reaction from the after-effects of the bite but it did give less evidence in its favour. So far the contenders are radioactive fish, reaction to his spider DNA, and magic. Only one of which Peter actually had knowledge of.

Peter sits up and moves forward to shut the water off. The tail was cool and all but he was kind of stuck in the tub. Peter lifts the end of his tail and moves the fins with narrowed eyes. He moves the fins close to the wall and then touches it, he wills them to stick and they do. Ok, he has better mobility than he thought he would. Feeling excitement fill him, Peter uses only his tail to lift his body and it works. He balances himself on his tail. He is definitely a Spider-Siren. He can stick, has strength, he assumes it also has his superhealing.

Peter grabs a towel from the rack and sits back down in the tub, he starts drying his upper body. The scales shimmer as he moves and Peter wonders if they would look the same dry. He sets the towel around his neck. Peter lifts himself from the tub and sits on the toilet lid, splaying the tail across the bathroom floor in all its glory before he grabs the towel around his neck. Peter starts drying his tail and the feeling is weird, he feels the towel through the scales and it’s closer to feeling something through his nails.

Peter has the sudden urge that his legs come back so he could experience the difference in them. Peter is scrubbing where the body of the tail meets the fins because it feels really good when the change happens. Peter senses the change a second before it happens but he is too confused at his Spider Sense telling him about it to notice what the change is . He lifts his head, dropping the towel, and looks around. Nothing is amiss and the sensation leaves. Peter turns back to pick up the towel and continue, now to try out the feel on his fins when he stops dead on his way to pick it up. His legs are back. His legs are back as if the tail was never there.

Peter pokes his legs, and just like the tail, they’re there. He moves them to make sure he has control over them, he does. He sets his palm on his leg and is surprised to find them completely dry, not even moist.

Peter looks back towards the shower, then he looks to his recently regained legs and back at the bathtub. He turns his head to his legs then the shower. Legs, shower, legs, shower. Peter bites his lower lip.

Like yeah, it could be a fluke and he may get stuck with a tail, but it could also be like his spider powers that he has control of. The tail disappeared when he dried it, it could be that if he gets his legs wet again the tail would return, and then it would disappear when he dries himself again.

What kind of scientist would he be if he didn't test out his hypothesis? He had to try. Besides, the worst thing that can happen is he has a tail, he'll figure it out later if he can’t dry it out. He has a feeling it will work anyways.

Peter fills the bathtub around three-quarters full. This is insane and just the type of experimenting he likes, trial and error. Taking a deep breath, he positions himself above the water holding himself by his arms, legs stretched out in front of him, parallel to the water below. All he needs to do is lower his arms and he will get his legs in the tub filled with water.

Peter lets out a little nervous laugh as he looks at the water. Like ripping off a bandaid. Peter takes another breath, releases it, and lets himself fall in one motion that splashes water over the tub’s edge.

The tail returns and this time Peter knows what he’s feeling. He realizes it's his legs morphing into a tail. It takes his legs a second to become a tail and it doesn’t hurt. It’s not a feeling he can put words to, other than from now on he can call the feeling his legs morphing into his tail. A part of the tail shimmers under the translucent water and his fins stay between water and air near where he thinks his knees would be-his tail is far too long to fit in the tub- while Peter moves it a little. He lifts the end of the tail and lets it smack back into the water, making a big splash that brings a joyous laugh from him. It worked as he’d suspected, the tail appears when his lower body gets splashed with water. Peter lifts himself from the bathtub and sits on the toilet seat.

Peter grabs the towel he first used to dry himself and begins to redry his tail. The same weird feeling of drying his scales returns. Willing his legs back as he dries Peter lifts the towel and grins. Where his blue tail had been are his legs once more.

Peter grins at the water, a rush of excitement cursing through his body. He has a tail now.

Just as abruptly his grin comes it falls and his heart begins to beat loudly in his chest. Oh god, he has a tail. He can't tell Aunt May, she'll freak out and ground him. And he can't tell Mr. Stark because he'll reprimand him, then tattle to May who will freak out and then they'll ground him together.

Ok, ok, ok. He can’t tell them, no big deal. He’s Spider-Man, he’s kept that a secret, he can keep this a secret. He has to figure this out first, then maybe he’ll tell them. If this is reversible they might never find out.

Does he want to reverse this? Food for thought.

He’ll figure all that out later. Right now Peter is going to take a bath, experiment a little, and then him and Karen will have a conversation about how much of a snitch the Babysitter Protocol makes her before starting his investigation.

[treeni]

Count Down for What?

Day 2 of Soulmate September

Prinxiety

Wordcount: 4918

TW: Swearing, it wouldn’t be a darkside pov from me without it. Anxiety attack. Heights?

Summary: Virgil hates waiting, can’t stand it really. He can’t even deal with a timer counting down in a video game, much less to one counting down to one of the biggest changes in his life... meeting his soulmate.

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taglist: @tsshipmonth2020

“Wake up Virgey!” a cheery voice called, ripping away the blanket he was snuggling into.

Bitch.

Virgil kept the thought to himself as he glared up at a freckled face with too wide of a grin for this early in the morning. Patton was his best friend in the world, but no one should be alive at this time in the morning, much less that cheery. He burrowed further into his pillow and pulled his knees up to his chest to conserve the warmth that had been stolen from him.

“Oh come onnnnn, time to get up! You have a big day Virgey! You’re never gonna meet your soulmate just lying there!” Patton exclaimed, grabbing hold of Virgil’s tucked wrists as he started to lean backwards, pulling him away from his comfort source.

“That’s kinda the point Pat,” Virgil grumbled and shook him off, but conceded to the fact that he would not be returning to his bed. If he tried Patton would start pulling out the big stops, like the time he poured a glass of ice water on him after he tried to sleep his way through his own unsurprising surprise party.

“Come on! Lo’s already got coffee on in the other room!” Patton exclaimed, linking their hands and leading Virgil out of the bedroom with a flourish.

Virgil let out a lengthy groan to make it abundantly clear how he felt about the situation that didn’t stop even as he entered the kitchen. Logan just rolled his eyes at Virgil and Patton’s entrance and wordlessly handed Virgil a cup of coffee, effectively getting him to finally shut up. Virgil sipped at his sweet, sweet lifeblood and tried not to make a face as Patton pecked Logan on the lips as he slipped past to make breakfast. Patton and Logan were in roommates, sure, but there was something too pragmatic about their relationship. It reminded him a little of his parents. Then again, he supposed that was just what happened when you find your soulmate at the age of six. Patton and Logan had been inseparable long before Virgil ever knew them. They were so connected at the hip that the only reason Patton and Virgil ever became friends at all was because Logan was an overachiever who both double majored and double minored in university, which suddenly left Patton with an immense amount of time by himself that he had never had before. Logan insisted he try to make friends to fill in some of the gaps so he wouldn’t feel so alone.

Cue a soft boy looking around the university courtyard with big lost eyes as he turned from group to group, looking for a place for himself. Then there was Virgil, barely paying attention as he scrolled tumblr on his phone between classes. Still, something about the dejected look behind big round glasses had Virgil moving from his favorite spot in the courtyard’s tree to jump down. He landed next to the boy who in turn let out a shriek as Virgil dusted off his jeans and straightened his hoodie.

“Hey,” Virgil remembered muttering so many years ago. “Let’s get some coffee.”

“O-Okay,” was the only response he had gotten back at the time as the lost boy followed him without another word.

It turned out that Patton didn’t even drink coffee. Still, they had been best friends ever since.

Why couldn’t that have been his life changing moment? He would have more then happily been platonic soulmates with his pattycake. He still put his foot down and swore that Logan and he had their timers somehow switched because the sweetheart was definitely his soulmate and he refused to hear otherwise. Logan always let out an annoyed huff when he argued it, but the stretched smile on Patton’s face always made it worth it for him to risk Logan’s ire.

“Virgil, this is supposed to be a good thing!” Patton insisted, taking Virgil’s hand in his own and squeezing it compassionately. “You’re going to meet someone wonderful! Someone who’ll change your life forever!”

“That’s what I’m afraid of!” Virgil insisted and pulled his hand away and cradled it close to his chest as if burned.

Patton and Logan shared a look as Virgil curled his limbs in on himself. His touch aversion only made an appearance when he was really becoming anxious. He heard some clanging in the kitchen for a moment before a large glass of ice water was set in front of him and his coffee was pushed away. Logan squatted in front of him, with a hand on the kitchen table to get to reach similar eye levels.

“Breathe Virgil. It is alright. Being nervous is completely normal,” Logan murmured in soothing tones as Patton watched helplessly from the side. Logan was always better at diffusing Virgil’s panic attacks. “Do you need me to run through the exercises with you?”

Virgil thought for a moment and shook his head no. Still, he accepted the glass of ice water Logan pushed in his direction and took a large sip. The cold helped shock his brain out of the spiral.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Virgil groaned, his head in his hands. He wasn’t really. He was still panicking, but it was more controlled now. Still, the splitting headache rising to his temples wasn’t helping anything.

“May I retrieve anything for you?” Logan asked as Patton finally braved reaching over and rubbing Virgil’s shoulder sympathetically. They both seemed pleased when Virgil didn’t immediately shrug off the touch, even if Logan frowned when he shook his head with a definite ‘no.’

Sometimes it felt like they were practicing on him for when they eventually adopted a kid to complete their white picket fence familial unit. The weirdos.

Then again, it was nice when Patton baked him cookies. Even Logan checking in about his sleeping habits wasn’t so bad really. They’d really make great parents someday to some lucky as fuck kids.

Patton and Logan shot him worried looks as he suddenly went stiff and Patton pulled his hand away before Virgil bolted.

Oh god.

Was he in the way?

Was that why they were so insistent on him finding his soulmate? So he’d leave? Did they want him to leave so they could get their all-American dream and adopt their 2.5 kids?

“Hey, hey, hey Viregy-” Patton started in a whisper, his hand hovering just inches away ready to give comfort in a moments notice. “What’s wrong? What happened? Are you okay?”

“Not so many questions at once Patton,” Logan chided. “Virgil, what’s your favorite ice cream flavor?”

Virgil swallowed and looked up, still able to see Logan’s blue eyes despite his glasses reflecting Virgil’s own pathetic expression. He choked out a breath and was able to mutter out, “Cherry Garcia.”

“What movie did we watch last night?”

“...Stardust... You picked it.”

Logan nodded. “As a compromise that you and Patton would both enjoy. What day is it?”

Virgil deadpanned. “I barely know what day it is when I’m in a normal state of mind.”

Logan smirked and patted his shoulder before pushing the ice water back his way. “I see you’re feeling better.”

Virgil accepted the water and took another long drink.

Bitch.

He was just so done with the day already and he hadn’t even had breakfast.

From there it seemed that Logan and Patton had collectively decided the best thing was to give him some space as the two took their places at the counter to work through cooking their meal together. Some days Virgil would help, but he was certain if he tried today Patton would shoo him away. He wasn’t really in the state of mind for it anyway and was happy to stay just where he was and stare at the slowly dwindling clock counting down on his wrist.

Just a few hours now.

Breakfast was a short affair. Eggs and sausage were placed in front of him as the loving couple took their usual seats next to one another at the other side of the table. He was sure it was all delicious, but he had to convince himself it didn’t all taste like cardboard as his mind continued to reel. Everything was going to change today.

Everything was going to change.

He wasn’t ready.

“Maybe I should go to work,” Virgil said as he picked up his plate from the table and took it to the sink. The least he could do as a good roommate was to take care of the dishes. “Remy’s always complaining we don’t have enough staff as it is.”

“Did you not specifically put in for vacation today?” Logan asked with a raised brow.

“Yeah, but-”

“Oh! Do you think Virgil already knows his soulmate? Could it be a coworker?” Patton asked and practically had stars in his eyes at the question.

“While the familiarity might help Virgil with the shock. All of the documented cases I’ve seen show them not previously knowing each other before at least the day the timers are set for. However, there’s still so much that’s unknown about the phenomena that it is difficult to say anything for certain.”

Virgil chewed his bottom lip as he took Patton and Logan’s dishes too. Anything to keep his hands busy.

“Maybe I’ll go into town...” he muttered to himself.

“Oh! I can see it now, you bump into your soulmate, the two of you drop all of your bags and your clocks reach zero just as you both touch hands while reaching for the same thing!”

“You know Pat, I think I’ve read that fanfiction. One of yours?” Virgil asked with a snort.

“It will be now,” Patton said, sticking his tongue out at Virgil from the other side of the kitchen island.

Virgil just mimicked him before throwing some of the soap suds at his cheeky friend.

“You’re both pretty,” Logan deadpanned with a huff at their antics before standing and wrapping his arms around Patton’s middle.

Logan nuzzled his nose just under Patton’s ear and Virgil watched his best friend simply melt under the ministrations.

“I am certain that whatever Virgil decides to do, everything will work out,” Logan said gently and kissed Patton’s forehead. “After all, he knows he will always have us, correct?”

Virgil squirmed when he realized Logan had gazed directly his way when asking that last question.

Fucking mind reader.

“Always!” Patton declared cheerily in agreement, seemingly unaware of Logan and Virgil’s silent conversation.  

The rest of the morning went by fast after that. Virgil tried his best not to draw his hoodie sleeve because every glance at the countdown timer on his wrist only reignited his anxiousness. Patton eventually had to rush off for work, but pushed a packed lunch into Virgil’s hands on the way out before kissing Logan goodbye.

Yep. Absolute parents.

Virgil stuck it on the table by the door and paced their apartment a few more times.

If he moved out, they’d have an extra bedroom available for a kid.

His stomach turned as he tried to push that thought out of his mind. Logan said they wanted him here.

Logan didn’t lie.

He sighed and eventually let himself collapse against the couch. He was already exhausted and he hadn’t even left the apartment yet. A few minutes later Logan saw fit to join him, book in hand and the two sat quietly with only the occasional sound of turning pages filling the silence. Virgil could not stop himself from staring down at his wrist, even through his hoodie. He’d catch himself staring, rip his gaze away and zone out with his gaze aimed in the general direction of the wall, only for the process to repeat again.

“You know, the timer will continue regardless of how long you stare at it.”

Virgil gave Logan what he was sure was a pained look before finally giving in to pulling the sleeve back as they both inspected the decreasing numbers.

Just over four hours now.

“I’m just... I’m not ready Lo,” he said holding up his wrist showing the timer that would not stop. “This will change everything and I just... I just can’t.”

“It does not have to,” Logan said, setting the book aside. “Think of it simply as an opportunity for change. You do not have to accept it. Maybe you meet someone, maybe you do not, you may even find it is someone you cannot abide at this point in your life. You can always leave the situation. Call me if you need an escort if things go sour and please keep me updated on where you go. This is always your home first and foremost, regardless of what happens. If you cannot fit any person you meet into the life you want to live, then simply turn around and come back home. Nothing has to change.”

Virgil stared at square framed glasses stupefied. That wasn’t something he was expecting to hear.

“However-” Logan started, as his expression took on an unusual wistfulness. “I cannot imagine what life would be like without Patton in it. A life devoid of joy I am certain is most likely. Patton reminds me how to live rather than simply exist. You should know better than most though what I mean when I say so. He brings laughter and love in a way that makes me proud to be his partner each and everyday.”

Virgil felt like he was sucker punched in the chest. Logan never spoke like that.

“He says I bring him joy too, though I cannot imagine how. Still... Patton just wants you to have that same sort of happiness Virgil.”

“I...” Virgil started. “I am happy.”

Logan just smiled and squeezed his shoulder as he stood up. “Just remember. This is an opportunity, not a contract. You always reserve the right to say no and I can promise you that you will always have a place here. I will push no further however, whatever you decide to do Patton and I will support you.”

“Where am I even supposed to go?” Virgil huffed out to Logan’s retreating figure. “How will I know I’m even going to the right place?”

“There is no wrong answer. Supposedly, wherever you decide will be the right place,” Logan answered, pausing at the doorway.

“Then what difference does it make if I stay here?”

“Does this feel like where you are supposed to be?”

Virgil just stared at him. No. No it didn’t. He gave a final groan and forced himself off the couch before stomping toward the front door and taking his bagged lunch with him.

Fucking bitch.

He wanted to kick something.

He ended up at the park and his already fragile mood was immediately soured as he passed by a group of musicians in large overly ornate hats as one with a particularly stupid looking mustache blew a sour note from a horn directly into his ear. He flipped him off and continued on the path, putting as much distance between him and the noisemakers as possible.

Virgil let himself fall into old habits as he hopped and grabbed hold of a tree branch before he even realized what he was doing, climbing until he was situated comfortably with his legs stretched out on a sturdy branch and his back  leaning against the trunk. Soulmates could suck it, he was gonna people watch today. Plus, if he was truly doomed to have to deal with an extra person in his life, he might as well take survey of them before having to actually meet them.

From here he could see a few couples. Definitely not. A few joggers and dog walkers who were hurrying down the path. Not the kind of people who would be around in the two hours he still had remaining. There was an older woman feeding the pigeons because some cliches existed for a reason it seemed. God he fucking hoped not. He’d almost take the mariachi bastard instead. Maybe.

Virgil let himself just exist for a little while, almost in a daze, but not quite snoozing as time passed around him. How was this soulmate thing supposed to work anyway? It’s not like he had some kinda of confirmation telling him he had the right person. Maybe the whole thing was some conspiracy, pairing people together artificially as to force them into some kind of submission. Like, how was he supposed to confirm that he even was with the right person when the clock stopped? Or what if they passed near each other and never truly met? Supposedly these timers were just supposed to magically stop at the exact moment two people who were just supposed to accept living the rest of their lives together would meet? Sounds fake.

Virgil’s attention was taken as he heard a rustling sound somewhere beneath him and found someone arranging a picnic basket. Oh god, what kind of dweeb goes to the park looking like they stepped straight out of a fairy tale book? He did a double-take though. Something about him looked... oddly familiar? He wasn’t sure how though. He could see some basically-prince-charming kneeling on a classic plaid red blanket and arranging a... surprisingly impressive set up. There were covered hotplates with something that smelled savory and absolutely delicious. Some kind of cake was in a clear plastic container. There was a pile of seemingly random snacks. He recognized the packages of a few, crackers, chocolates, granola bars, even a couple boxes of raisins of all things. Two matching sets cutlery with cloth napkins underneath the silverware. A three pronged candlestick was placed between the plates with rose petals scattered around at random and- Oh shit, was that wine? Was that even allowed at the public park?

Virgil wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he sure wasn’t gonna rat the guy out. The dude obviously put in a lot of effort for his date. That was the kinda guy who deserved a soulmate, not Virgil. Virgil was still in his ratty hoodie and rattier converse as he was waiting to meet them for the first time. A plan? Ha, in this economy? He was lucky he even remembered his wallet. He couldn’t imagine being the kind of person to arrange intricate dates like the picnic prince down below. In fact, Virgil was a little uncomfortable being so near. He couldn’t imagine that the happy couple would stay very happy if they found their private date was basically permanently photo-bombed by a guy chillin in the tree above them.

Virgil tried to shimmy his way across the branches, so he could try and jump down and land on the other side of the tree so he didn’t have to deal with the strange conversation of falling in the middle of someone’ picnic setup. What he didn’t count on however, was a branch catching on the pocket of his hoodie and effectively stopping him from making the trek to the next branch. In fact, being jerked back from crossing threw off his momentum enough that he couldn’t seem to right himself. He tried to regain his balance on another branch, but it cracked underneath his feet and suddenly he was falling.

Into waiting arms.

What the hell?

Virgil found himself staring straight up into the face of picnic guy. God the wannabe prince was even prettier up close.  He had big amber eyes, a heart shaped face, high cheekbones, and a pointy chin. He truly looked as if he belonged in the clothes he wore.

“Are you alright?” The man voiced, but it was almost more rumble than true sound and Virgil wasn’t sure he could breathe.

“Um... uh...mhmm,” he squeaked out lamely, barely able to get even that much out as he found himself freezing in place.

Not that it was a bad place to be....

Virgil shook the thought out of his head. The guy was clearly preparing a date. He probably already had a soulmate and Virgil had someone he was waiting to meet soon.

Soon.

Too soon.

Oh god.

He couldn’t... he couldn’t... he couldn’t what?

He couldn’t do this.

He couldn’t breathe.

Fuck!

All thoughts seemed to be immediately wiped from his brain suddenly as the only thing he could focus on was the sound of his rapidly beating heart pounding in his ears. He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he couldn’t he couldn’t hecouldn’thecouldn’tcouldn’tcouldn’tcan’tcan’tcan’t-

“Shhhh... sh, sh, shhhh. It’s okay... everything is okay. You are safe. Whatever this is, whatever is scaring you so, I will protect you. You don’t have to be scared of anything. I promise. It’s okay. Yeah? How about we just breathe together for a little while okay? Can you do that?”

Virgil swallowed and managed to nod after wiping some tears away with the sleeve of his hoodie. He wasn’t really... okay yet, but he managed to wrangle back up some thoughts from their banishment. Mainly that he was making a fool of himself, but anything was better than the sheer, terrifying nothingness of shutdown.

“Do you have a name?” the (now also clearly deserving of the prince attire he wore) guy asked while setting him down gently at the base of the tree.

“Vir... um Virgil.”

“I’m Roman,” the prince said kindly and gave a reassuring squeeze to his bicep. It reminded him a little of Patton actually. “Would you like some sparkling cider Virgil?”

Roman held up the bottle that Virgil had previously thought to be wine, but he could see from his position it was alcohol-free. At least no random park rangers would try to arrest the guy. He deserved better than that, Virgil decided.

“Or I have some bottles of water-”

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” Virgil exclaimed, scrambling to his feet.

“What? What is it, what’s wrong?!” Roman exclaimed, immediately taking a somewhat defensive position in front of him, like he was protecting him.

“I ruined your date! I should... I should go. I’m sorry I uh... god I am terrible at this. I’m sorry for everything.”

“Wait please!” Roman exclaimed, grabbing the cuff of his hoodie. The damn thing was going to be the death of him. Virgil swore he was gonna finally buy a new one when he made it home. “You don’t have to go.”

“But... your date,” Virgil said, gesturing lamely to the beautiful setup Roman had spent so long on.

Roman let go and pulled his arms in uncomfortably. “I uh... I don’t even know if they’re coming or not to tell you the truth.”

“Wait, you did all of this and didn’t even know if they’re coming? That’s so...”

“Stupid, I uh... I know,” Roman said, looking down at his feet.

“I was gonna say brave,” Virgil said and gave a reassuring smile when Roman’s gaze jumped back up to his. At least he wasn’t the only one uncomfortable today.

“Th-thank you,” Roman said, his voice contorting slightly. He sounded choked up. Virgil almost reached out to give him some kinda comfort, but stopped himself.

That would be weird right?

He didn’t like... know the guy.

Right.

“Would you... um would you please join me for a bit while I wait?” Roman asked, his fingers fumbling with the hem of his tunic.

“On one condition,” Virgil said.

“Anything,” Roman immediately breathed and Virgil could practically see the hope in his eyes, but he couldn’t fathom for the life of him why it was there.

“You gotta tell me the story behind the prince gear.”

Roman’s cheeks immediately flushed a bright red. “Oh... um... well...”

Virgil let himself plop to one side of the picnic blanket and Roman gracefully slid down to mirror his position, surprisingly still stammering.

“-you see uh... I’m an actor and I just came from um...playing...”

“Prince charming?” Virgil asked with a smirk.

Roman nodded shyly. “In Cinderella. I’m usually much better at this... at least on stage I am.”

“At what?”

“At... well... talking?” He said it as if it was a question. “And uh-” It was Roman’s turn to gesture lamely, both to the set up and to himself. Virgil could basically grasp the gist of what he was trying to say at least.

“I think you’re doing great,” Virgil said with a grin. This guy was absolutely precious. He was almost jealous of the prince’s oncoming date. If they didn’t show he’d sweep him away himself. Fuck the soulmate.

“I really appreciate that Virgil,” Roman said with a sincerity in his eyes that let Virgil half in love already.

Bad Virgil, bad. He has a date. You have a soulmate. Focus.

“Anytime,” Virgil muttered, and took a swig of the cider, almost wishing it were the wine he probably shouldn’t have in a public park.

Roman smiled and Virgil was trying to convince himself he wasn’t completely destroyed by that crooked grin. He looked... relieved by Virgil’s answer, certainly more comfortable. From there, the conversation seemed to flow rather easily. Roman spoke of the dinner theater he worked at, making decent pay, but he didn’t plan to be there forever. He spoke of his dreams, on the stage, on the big screen and Virgil could only nod along and admit it makes sense that someone as pretty as him would be in movies. Roman shut down for a minute at that particular comment, but only grew more enthusiastic. Virgil learned he had a brother who had several books out and that Roman wanted to catch up in prestigiousness . They were apparently twins after all and Roman refused to fall behind.

Virgil spoke of himself too. He told him about Patton and Logan, the perfect soulmates who had found each other so young. A couple truly destined to spend a lifetime together. He spoke of his friendship and how he came to be acquainted with the literal embodiments of suburbia. He talked about his job at the radio and even running his own show on the off times on nights and weekends. He told him that he would usually be there for a show at the moment, but his coworker was covering for him today. Roman spit out his drink, but looked immediately embarrassed for doing so.

“Sorry sorry! It’s just... you’re... you’re that Virgil?”

“You’ve tuned in I take it?”

“Only every night! What other station plays Disney music at two in the morning?!” Roman exclaimed and grasped Virgil’s hands in his excitement, but them seemed to remember himself and curbed it back, releasing his catch.

No... Virgil thought grumpily. I liked the excited boy. Bring him back.

“I uh... I like to listen to your show when I’m working on my own projects at home,” Roman admitted, twiddling with the hem again.

“Well, then I’m glad. If I can bring someone inspiration, then maybe I’ll just never move the show,” Virgil said only half joking. Being on in the morning was considered prime time and they always got the best commercial deals, but... but if he had a fan like this.... Well, he didn’t want to disappoint.

“You know Virgil... I almost didn’t come out here today. My brother kinda pushed me into it. He and his partner are formidable as a pair.”

“I can absolutely relate with that. Still, it’s a pity that your date’s been a no show. All of that hard work you and even your bro put into it...they don’t deserve you.”

“I uh... I don’t know about that.” Roman said, staring with that same hopeful expression and Virgil was ready to throw hands with whoever hurt this man by leaving him here alone.

“You think they’ll still show?”

“I uh... I was thinking... hoping that they were already here,” Roman admitted and pulled down his sleeve to a timer that was rapidly approaching zero. “I was hoping it was you.”

I was hoping it was you.

I was hoping it was you.

I was hoping it was you.

The words echoed through Virgil’s brain rapidly as he tried to process the meaning... the ulterior motive. He couldn’t find any. He pulled back his own sleeve. 5...4...3...2...1....

Oh.

A small beep sounded in his own head, it almost acted like an auditory arrow pointing, no pushing him in Roman’s direction. Suddenly they were close. Suddenly they were inches apart. Suddenly hands were on his hips and all he could see were beautiful amber eyes.

Suddenly lips were on his.

Just as he let out the first hints of a moan from the feeling of Roman’s lips, oh lord his soft lips, they were interrupted and rapidly pulled away from each other at the sound of a microphone adjusting.

“THIS ONE GOES OUT TO THE HAPPY COUPLE ON THE PICNIC BLANKET! NEWLY FOUND SOULMATES!”

How the fuck?!-

All of the residents of the park cheered and clapped while looking in their direction. Confetti came from... somewhere? Loud music started playing and only a few feet from them and Virgil was absolutely shooketh seeing the band he passed when he first came into the park

“I... I didn’t hire them I swear!” Roman exclaimed, throwing his hands up in bewilderment and confusion.

Virgil didn’t doubt it.

“That guy in the mariachi band over there that kinda looks like you wouldn’t happen to be your brother would it?”

“Ugh, god dammit Remus!” Roman said the name with more venom than the swear and pinched the bridge of his nose.

[kitaychan]

We need to talk

Summary: After a breakup, Ivan realizes his life was not as fullfilling as he had thought. Reaching out to old friends might prove to be a slow task with interesting outcomes.

Chapter preview: Yao sighed, peering over to the kitchen, he gasped and hurried inside. “How did you set my teapot on fire?”

Ivan could hear Arthur’s alarmed voice and the water tap running. “I don’t know.”

He approached the kitchen, the smell of smoke was stronger and he found Arthur frowning alongside Yao inspecting the blackened teapot.

The brown haired man huffed, leaving the teapot on the sink. “Stop burning things, Alfred is not around, so you can quit gaining his attention.”

“It was an accident and I asked for help, neither of you seemed to notice, are you deaf?”

“You are banned from my kitchen, now. Go and commit arson on your boyfriend’s house, he can manage the fires quickly.”

Ivan let out a laugh. “I am totally going to tell Alfred about this.”

Scrolling down memes on his phone, Ivan glanced at the hour, he had spent at least half an hour just looking at his phone, on the back of his head, deep inside, he knew that he was delaying the inevitable.

He typed out a simple ‘hello’ before erasing it, why was it so hard to start a conversation? Alfred would just send him a random picture and they would talk about it or start a string of random pictures, but now, Ivan found it difficult to send a simple greeting to Yao. What should he say? What if he was busy?

He managed to gather enough words to form a coherent greeting alongside the question of ‘What are you up to?’

Dread invaded him instantly after he sent it. Perhaps that was too vague, or too informal. He sighed, setting the phone aside, it was done and he couldn’t take the message back, that was better, he’d be overthinking the whole day anyways.

This day, he was less worried about the nonexistent alarm that set off in his mind in the mornings, and more focused on the little pang of guilt that told him that he was wasting his time.

He took a breath, reminding himself that he was on vacation, he had nothing to worry about besides his cat and trying not to be a burden to Katya, whom unlike him, had left earlier to give off her classes.

He played for a while with his cat, the entertainment was short as Boris decided it was better to lie on his side instead of hunting the toy, Ivan poked a bit at the fluffy cat to make him move again but it didn’t budge, wiggling its tail.

The day passed rather slowly, Ivan had tried not to go out, not wanting to spend the time by himself in the park again, though the prospect of finding Yao again crossed his mind, he figured the man would be working just as Katya was.

Of course he was, that was probably why he couldn’t answer. Ivan sighed, why did he have to keep worrying about it? this was what he hated about being alone, his thoughts would be nagging at him, he had to find something to do or he would be anxious about a message the whole day.

He sighed, focusing on the lonely plant by the window, he searched around the house, finding some paints. It was time to stop delaying his task and deliver that child’s project.

The base was fairly easy if he remembered well, the background was mostly blue with some clouds around. What worried him was the boat, as he wasn’t used to painting at all, and well, he’d never made a decent boat.

He left the pot aside so the blue paint could dry, perhaps he could ask for help with it later.

Ivan glanced at the clock again, time had passed and Katya would probably arrive soon but he couldn’t help but feel a bit annoyed at the passiveness of his day.

His phone buzzed, taking him out of his thoughts. The short message displayed made him pause.

“Hi, sorry, I forgot my phone, I’ve just headed back from work. Do you want to come to my house?”

Ivan had to double check his phone.Firstly, to make sure that it was in fact a message coming from Yao, and secondly, to process the question.

Another message appeared.

“Are you busy?”

Ivan smiled, it’s not like he had anything better to do and at this point he’d be delighted to busy himself with anything.

Feeling less awkward he replied. “Not really, I was trying to paint the boat on the flower pot but I am failing at it. Anyway, yeah it’d be nice to talk”

“In that case, bring it with you, I’ll help. Let’s meet at the park, I have to see Arthur there.”

Ivan pondered for a moment giving out an affirmative reply, he wrote a note to Katya so she wouldn’t worry, grabbed a coat, the flower pot and left.

Once in the park, he went to buy some pastries, it would be mean to present himself empty handed, right? He even got another bottle of wine, to replace the one from yesterday. The cashier handed him everything on a paper bag that he carried quite difficulty.

He sat outside on the same bench, it was indeed a nice place. He could see Arthur and Yao approaching, both of them were wrapped with scarves and heavy coats, the latter was holding two cups of hot coffee.

Yao handed him one of the cups. “I’m so sorry, How long have you been waiting?”

Ivan shrugged, taking the beverage. “Not much.”

“For real, you can be as petty as you want, it was Arthur’s fault that we were held back.”

Arthur, groaned, taking a sip of his own drink. “I only said that they didn’t know how to make iced tea, I thought it was obvious.”

“The barista didn’t ask for your opinion.”

“If they want to make iced tea, they have to make tea, let it cool and add the ice. Not use that horrible mix with water.” The Englishman frowned, observing his drink. “At least they make good coffee.”

“Not really.” Yao let off a huff, ushering them to follow. “Anyway, let’s go upstairs, it is freezing down here. Aren’t you cold, Ivan?”

“I’m a bit used to it, it’s more chilly where I live.” Ivan paused, the englishman seemed to notice his hesitation, taking the paper bag and allowing him to finish his coffee and carry the plant.

Ivan walked with them, taking short steps. They questioned him about the city, about his work, his coworkers, Ivan had to suppress his frown at the last topic.

Yao’s apartment was warm, Arthur stepped in casually, making a beeline to the table while Yao took the flower pot from him so he could take off his coat.

Ivan fumbled a bit with his scarf, leaving it on and approaching the table. There were a few stocks of papers and books scattered on it.

Yao laughed nervously. “Sorry for the mess, I was revising some exams last night.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, setting the bag on the table, the Englishman raised an eyebrow and stared at him. “Yao, did you cook Francis’ recipe yesterday?”

The brown haired man nodded, placing the plant on the table. "Yeah, it took me some time and I had to buy wine because he would not leave me alone until I did."

"You let the frog get away with his quirks, he drinks wine with everything. I hope the dish was worth the expensive wine."

"It totally was." Ivan said, regretting his words as Arthur's expression changed into amusement.

Yao retrieved the books from the table, shaking his head. "Stop staring like that, we met at the store and I invited him."

"Sure… that's why you still have exams to grade, right?" The Englishman taunted, holding out one of the papers.

Yao hummed, fumbling with the papers. “You have delayed exams too.”

"True but why did he bring wine?” Arthur smiled, turning his stare at Ivan. “Are you following Francis’ advice or something?"

Ivan tensed a bit, at this point everything he'd say would be used by Arthur to tease them. “It is polite to bring a present when you visit someone’s house.”

“How dare you speak to me about proper manners,” Arthur chuckled, collecting papers from the table. "Yao has a good collection of books and I need to complain about it, you will help me out, right?"

"Not my fault that you burnt yours to get a date." Yao retorted, laying some brushes and paints on the table and taking a seat beside Ivan.

Arthur gasped. "If you keep that cocky grin on your face, I will kick you out."

Ivan watched in awe as Yao took a pencil, tracing swiftly the sketch of a small boat on the flower pot. "This is my house, you can't kick me out. What books do you need?"

The Englishman stood up, observing the books displayed on the shelf. He turned around with a serious expression on his face “Ivan, have you read ´War and peace’?”

“Uh not really, I have a copy laying around but I don’t think I ever finished it.” Ivan shrugged, toying with a brush.

“What keeps you from reading it? Is it the french parts of it?”

“I am actually fluent in french so...” Ivan saw how Arthur’s smile changed into a grimace, had he said something wrong? He quickly added. “I just hadn’t taken the time to actually read it.”

Arthur grabbed a couple of books, taking a seat. “I remember you once delivered a paper about The great Gatsby, it was very interesting though quite weak at the end.”

Ivan glanced at Yao in an attempt to ask for help but the grin the brown haired man held on his face told him that he wouldn’t get any. He laughed nervously. “I barely remember what I ate for breakfast, I don’t think I will recall something I wrote on highschool.”

Yao’s laughter filled the room, Ivan couldn’t help but stare at him, it was not rare to see the chinese smile, but it was certainly pleasant to hear his laugh, he found himself laughing too, Arthur joining as well.

They shared a glass of wine and devoured the pastries, Ivan painted slowly the small boat and answered more of Arthur’s questions, Yao praised his patience every now and then until Arthur left him alone in order to make some tea.

Ivan watched closely as Yao traced details on the little boat skillfully, silence enveloped them as he finished.

Turning back, he could hear Arthur pacing around in the kitchen but he could not see him.

He took a long breath before leaning over the table, just a bit, in order to gain Yao’s attention, the brown haired man set aside the brush, arching an eyebrow.

“When you invited me over, I didn’t think it would end up like this.” Ivan admitted, smiling sheepishly.

Yao tilted his head, a small smirk gracing his face. “Why?”

Ivan fidgeted with his scarf, he didn’t know how he was able to hold his gaze, he felt his face almost burning with embarrassment but he had already dug his grave so he might as well just die on it already, he reached out to take Yao’s hand, and lowered his voice. “Well… for starters, I didn’t think that Arthur would be acompaining us.”

Ivan considered the idea of not coming back to the town when Yao retreated his hand and chuckled, this was like highschool all over again but perhaps ten times worse because he had hoped to be on the right track just once, and now, he dreaded his sole existence.

No matter how much he tried to shrink on himself, to hide under his scarf, he would not disappear from the situation.

His train of thought was stopped or more accurately, smacked back to reality by a soft hand caressing his cheek. He could barely register Yao’s words. “You are fun to tease.”

Ivan nodded slowly, he was doomed, wasn’t he? He wanted nothing but melt on this man’s hands, he knew he was blushing, but this time, he didn’t mind it.

He gathered enough courage to lean forward, barely brushing his lips with the other, Yao’s hand moved to the back of his head, pushing him lightly so their lips met.

“Bloody hell!”

They both flinched back, Ivan had forgotten about Arthur’s existence, a sense of self awareness flared up in him but it didn’t manage to overcome the annoyance he felt. The Englishman was nowhere to be seen.

Yao sighed, peering over to the kitchen, he gasped and hurried inside. “How did you set my teapot on fire?”

Ivan could hear Arthur’s alarmed voice and the water tap running. “I don’t know.”

He approached the kitchen, the smell of smoke was stronger and he found Arthur frowning alongside Yao inspecting the blackened teapot.

The brown haired man huffed, leaving the teapot on the sink. “Stop burning things, Alfred is not around so you can quit gaining his attention.”

“It was an accident and I asked for help, neither of you seemed to notice, are you deaf?”

“You are banned from my kitchen, now. Go and commit arson on your boyfriend’s house, he can manage the fires quickly.”

Ivan let out a laugh. “I am totally going to tell Alfred about this.”

Arthur groaned. “From everyone you could have chosen to embarrass me in front of, it has to be with the one person Alfred has a direct line with, you are the best of friends, Yao.”

Sending pictures of a burnt teapot to Alfred wasn’t the way Ivan thought his night would end but he was delighted by today’s happenings.

Not only could he get another kiss from Yao before leaving, he had asked him out on an actual date, much to the Englishman's amusement, the remarks the latter made after they left Yao’s house weren’t embarrassing anymore.

Ivan had entered a state of sheepish acceptance, if he had to take on Arthur’s teasing in order to date Yao, then so be it.

[doubleshotofsomething]

Come Into My Life

This is my entry for @nekoannie-chan​‘s writing challenge. Congratulations on 500followers :D! Thank you so much for letting me participate!

This is a series. The remaining parts will be posted throughout the day. It is a Thor fanfic with a song prompt “Entra en mi Vida” (its a beautiful song, i highly recommend).

Song Prompt: Entra en mi Vida by Sin Bandera 

Warnings: swearing, like a lot of it. Mentions of human experimentation. that’s it?? Also, people are idiots here, folks. bare with me.

Summary: You live in a world where soulmates don’t exist. Like, at all. All that meant to be, fate has chosen nonsense? Not real. Literal, actual, from-the-TV-screen fairytale. So... why is the God of Thunder convinced that you’re his?

Part One: Entra en mi vida, te abro la puerta

"So—" You clear your throat, throwing yourself onto the only empty seat, "—all jokes aside, guys. What the fuck!"

Everyone blinks at you, drinks in their hands and confusion all over their faces.

You stare back at them, completely dismissing the new sets of eyes staring at you. "No, seriously, like what the fuck?" You reiterate. "Like, no guys, this fuck needs an answer. What the fuck."

"Are we supposed to know what this fuck is?" Ghost asks, the first among the group of five to surpass her confusion. "Because I have a what the fuck for that what the fuck."

You reach over to grab her drink and she – having been used to your antics after three years of friendship – moves it closer for you to grab. You take a sip, let the taste of her chamomile tea settle on your tongue, blanch and give it back.

"So, you know how the Avengers got their asses whipped after they pulled a deadbeat dad, right?" You make grabby hands towards Hope's drink, and she – just like Ghost – pushes it over to you.

"Careful," she grimaces, "it has a kick to it."

"So did Thanos," You mumble as you take a sip of her drink. The espresso sits heavily on your tongue and you swear you can feel it stain your teeth. "What the actual fuck, Hope? What is this? And why does it not have sugar?"

She chooses to roll her eyes at you and mimic the remaining two new faces by staying quiet. Her eyes narrow at you in warning.

"Don't get a tude with me, missy—" You wag your finger at her, “—you're the one that MIA'd for five years without a return address and pissed off the Feds. Like, seriously, what the fuck guys? We had plans and everything! Why the fuck would you leave me alone for that long? You know how I get when I'm not forced to socialise!"

Ghost snorts. "Don't be a baby."

Pouting, because you’re very mature, you feign a sniffle and stick your tongue out at her. "Weeeeeh."

The dude with the annoyingly short blond hair snorts, consequently gaining your attention, and tries to hide his smile with his cup.

"You're new," you narrow your eyes at him. "Why are you new? And why do you look like the dude that owes me 12K for wrecking my car?"

"Oh my god—" Ghost grumbles in the background, "—not this again."

"I have bills and crippling debts and things that need to be paid for, Ghost!"

"You're a trust fund baby, you shithead!" She argues. "You don't know what crippling debt looks like!"

"You don't know that! My investment portfolio has been crumbling since the stock market crashed last year due to the recession."

Sam grins cheekily at you. "You have no idea what you just said, do you?"

Huffing and puffing, all you can say is. "Let's go back to the what the fuck that needs to be discussed." You glare at him pointedly, "then maybe, we can discuss why you're still here and why you came back from ashes."

"I know you missed me, cupcake." The evil bastard reaches over and pinches your cheek.

"I miss dancing on your grave," You try to swat his hand away, "now, thanks to your selfishness, I need a new dance floor. Very rude of you to not stay dead."

"You're adorable."

"As I was whatting the fucks," You turn back to Hope and Ghost, "when the fuck did my life become Thor versus Thanos, and why am I the Thor without the hammer to fight Thanos?"

"Is that your what the fuck?"  Ghost frowns.

It's her turn to get glared at. "Don't act like you haven't seen the footage. You know exactly how badly Thor got yeeted off his high horse. I'm only regretful that Captain Wrecking Ball wasn't knocked off his."

"You know he's over here, right?" Hope, ever the oblivious one to your obvious jabs, points at the dude that wrecked your car.

"Yeah, unlike my car and the check he has yet to hand over but hey—" lifting up the cup of espresso, you grin at her "—when life gives you lemons."

"I'm still confused and offended about the Thanos reference." Sam, the gift from the bad side of Pandora's box, begins. "What do we have to do with your life?"

"What does pulling a deadbeat dad mean?" The other new dude asks, his face is both the definition of confused and annoyed. "And what does it have to do with the Avengers?"

You frown. "Now I'm confused—"

"Oh no—" Ghost grimaces.

"—Why do you look like the dude from Gossip Girl but also like the dude on the UN's wanted poster of 20something?" You turn to Sam for assistance. "Doesn't he look like that old geezer from the museum?"

Sam grins, leans back in his seat to take a proper look at the manbun dude. Your table is the round one placed at the corner – the irony – and, until recently, it has always been occupied by the four of you. That was before they decided to ghost you for half a decade.

 "Now that you mention it—"

"Oh, fuck off." Manbun snaps at Sam, and you swear you've never fallen in love faster in your entire life than you have in that moment.

Your grin is wide and shit-eating as you put the cup down. You extend your hand to Manbun and wiggle your freshly painted — somehow chapped – fingers.

"I'd tell you my name but it's better if you just called me sweetheart," You’re still grinning. "What's your sign and what time can you pick me up?"

He blinks at you, still confused, and frowns at your hand. Slowly, because you’re a patient girl, you lean over and pry his left hand away from his cup. You place your palm in his and wrap your fingers around each other.

"I'd ask for your name but I think I'll settle for calling you babe," You shake his hand, and then place it back on the cup. "Or hun. I'd call you handsome, but that's too tacky and we—” You point between the both of you, " – don't do tacky."

You sit back in your seat and glance at Sam. "Well... Most of the time anyway."

At this, the rest of your life flashes you a grin. "How does eight o'clock sound?"

"It sounds like a recipe for disaster." Ghost cuts in, narrowing her eyes at you. "Back off, shithead. You've hurt enough of my coworkers"

Jaw dropping and shock feigning, you gasp. "How is that my fault?"

"Is that joke?" Ghost frowns, "because I feel like it's a joke. Three incidences with the analysts and five tech support team make it look like a joke."

You scoff at that. "Look, if your little back up boys can't handle the essence of a real woman, then that's not my fault." Confidently – and silently annoyed – you also add. "Plus, I actually did SHIELD, or whatever ridiculous name you're calling the remake of a failed organisation, a favour. If your boys behind the boys in spandex can't handle being told off by a 'mouse' as they call us, then they shouldn't be behind the dude that wrecked my car.

 "But now that I've said that out loud—" You pause, "—I finally understand why the Avengers are so bad at their job. I mean, with such poor support systems, it's no wonder boy blue and red uses cars as a landing mechanism. It's almost as if he's never heard of a parachute."

There's a pregnant pause as you pretend to ponder the situation. The new dude with the blond hair has visibly turned red and is shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Manbun has a very permanent looking frown smeared all over his face and you’re pretty sure you've just ruined whatever chances you had of giving him children. And Sam, because he's Sam and is patiently waiting his turn to roast you, has the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.

Ghost pretends to scowl at you, even though you’re pretty sure she's already drawing up the schematics for the pedestal she's about to build for you. Hope, because she's Hope and has first-hand experience of dealing with spoilt little brats that use creative antics to slowly drive people away, decides to use that exact moment to sigh and expose you.

"Hey sweetheart," she begins in that voice of betrayal. "Can you, like, not be an antisocial, territorial pain in the ass for five minutes and be nice? Stop trying to get our guests to leave with your little mind games, yeah?"

You blink at her. Once, twice. Because the betrayal always takes a few moments to sink in.

"They're not mind games." You retort. "Boy Blue over there did wreck my car. He used it to cushion his fall, because apparently the super-secret organisation that harbours entitled idiots doesn't invest in parachutes."

"But you don't even need that 12K—"

"I didn't ask for the 12k. I just simply pointed out that his reckless behaviour is very costly for those who suffer for it."

"Okay, guys—" Ghost tries to interject, but it's too late. The fire has already started, and Hope and you have never been on the same page when it comes to anything involving the Avengers.

"You're being unreasonable now. You, of all people, should understand that some things are out of our control."

"That doesn't excuse or make the damage done alright. The ruining of people’s livelihoods isn’t a necessary evil for your super heroe'ing righteousness." You point out, eyes narrowed, and teeth bared. "I, of all people, don't understand your defence. Because I don't use the lab that made me as an excuse to get away with the bad shit I do to people. Whether intentionally or not."

"Really? Because you weren't singing that same song when you cashed in on all that HYDRA inheritance."

"I am not the people that made me and it's not like I'm vacationing the money away. Or have you forgotten about that harbour I had to fix because your boyfriend decided to grow a few sizes?"

"Oh, how could I forget? It's not like you rub it in his face every time he tries to so much as even say hi to you."

"People should be held accountable for their actions. Excuse me for exercising my fifth amendment because I don't think communicating with the guy that turned your dad into a fugitive by siding with the anti-accords gang is cool!"

"That accords was messed and you know it!"

“Yeah, but I didn’t go around trying to be a vigilante about it!”

"Just admit that your stance for the accords is only because you need the government's protection against ex-Hydra agents."

She hit a cord and she knows it. "You're treading on very thin ice, Hope."

 "Scared they might come back and finish what they started? Now that Pierce and Rumlow are gone, there's nothing stopping them from finishing what they started, is there?"

"You know," You sigh, reaching for Ghost's drink and taking a sip. "At least, I don't have to abduct a man from his home, nearly ruin his chances at freedom, risk his life numerous times for my personal gain, just cause I have a theory about my mom's whereabouts. And then—" You let out a condescending laugh at the thought, "—have the audacity to look him in the eye and call it love. Because, ya know, turning a guy into a science experiment and berating him for doing what he thought was right is so romantic."

She's turning red. You can see it before it actually happens and there is a sick sense of pleasure coursing through your veins at the thought. At the fact that you’re the one pressing all the buttons.

Boy, are you fucked up.

"Damn." Sam mumbles, then chortles, then belts out a laugh. "Shit. Who pissed in your gourmet breakfast?"

"People," You scowl at him. “Fucking people. Because, now call me a bitch if you insist, I don't remember telling management to sign a deal with SHIELD."

"What the fuck?" Ghost, ever so caring, contributes to your bewilderment and pissy mood.

You nod frantically at her. "Exactly! What the fuck! Do you see why I needed you guys so bad? Like, it's like the creation of the Strike Force all over again!"

"Hold on—" Captain Damage Ball cuts in. "—I'm confused. What exactly is going on and what does SHIELD have to do with it?"

"Oh boy. Germany, here we go again—"

"Don't be an asshole, shithead."

 --

 When SHIELD fell and Black Widow released all those classified documents to the public, your existence was made known to the public. It turned out that running a terrorist cell inside a super-secret organisation wasn't the only thing Pierce had hidden from the world. You were.

You were supposed to be an experiment. Another volunteer, like the Twins, for Hydra's ultimate plan. Another Bucky Barnes, but without the constant torture to keep you mindless and loyal.

 You were supposed to be the next generation. The Rumlow that wouldn't need force and violence to get the job done. That was the requirement. Those were the orders. That's what you were supposed to be.

Instead, somewhere deep in the dark, cold corners of an abandoned Hydra lab, the inhumane attempt of creating Winter Soldiers through 'natural means' had taken place.

The surrogates were all volunteers, the scientist claimed.

The procedure was necessary for the mission, the doctor explained.

This is the only way forward, the master mind behind that plan argued.

Rumlow took care of the agents himself. Pierce burned down that lab himself. And, out of all the children born, you were the only one that lived longer than the rest. The others were unfortunate enough to be experimented on, before Rumlow found out.

Not knowing who to trust, Pierce kept you hidden from the world and Hydra. He never hid the truth from you, nor did Rumlow. They knew that, at some point, those that knew about the lab would eventually find you, and you needed to be prepared for when they did.

When SHIELD fell, the paper trail that led to your existence was small – miniscule, even – but it was there. Sam found it, but he kept you a secret as well until you were ready for the whole world to know.

But the world wasn't waiting for you to be ready. It wasn't that patient, nor kind. Because, with everything out in the open, chaos ensued, and you were still – at the end of the day – the next generation. All those assets couldn't remain frozen forever and all those lives that were ruined by Hydra couldn't remain unaided.

So, you had to step out and – begrudgingly – announce your existence to the world. Put a huge target on your back and claim the inheritance that Pierce had unwittingly left you.

"I'm gonna go piss off alot of bad people—" You had said to Sam over the phone, right before your News Interview. "What do you think I should start with?"

He wasn't having any of it. "Did you just wait for me to leave the country so you could do something stupid?"

"Of course not, I'm not you—" You scoffed, checking your outfit again. "—I hired a hacker to fake a series of cyber-attacks. Then I asked that girl, you know – the one that could walk through walls, to freak a bunch of people out. So, you know, it could be an Avenger level threat, but not the kind that needed Captain Spandex, so they'd send you. Then I scheduled the interview for the night of the supposed attack, because I knew you'd be gone—"

"Are you kidding me, Y/N— Clint, turn this thing around now!"

"—So, I was thinking I show up on stage and say 'the law says I can take all those assets and I'm gonna use them to do the exact opposite of what my ex-bosses would've wanted'. How does that sound?"

"Do me a favour. Don't move. I wanna kill you myself."

You grinned. "I knew you'd love it."

--

Next Part

TAGS: @nekoannie-chan​ , @thorfanficwriter​

[kinqjaehyxn]

Homebound

— jung jaehyun

genre: angst

warning(s): arguments, swearing, almost cheating(?)

word count: 1,591

a/n: i really had lots of fun writing this!! its late and i have work at 9am but whatever jaehyun angst is #1 priority heheh

==================== This was not the Jaehyun you knew. This was not the Jaehyun you fell in love with. This is not the Jaehyun you married and started a family with. The Jaehyun you knew and fell in love with was a completely different person than the Jaehyun who standing in front of you. You don't remember when everything went wrong; you were happy, both of you only a year ago. You gave birth to your now one year old son and your 3 year old daughter was gleaming with joy. For some reason, that felt like years ago.

You starting seeing Jaehyun less and less within the year, his children missing him dearly. Maybe it was because of his new job, you tried to convince yourself. Yet even during his vacation time, he'd always be out with the boys or going to a company dinner to grow closer with his new coworkers. It felt like Jaehyun would only come home to sleep and to be honest, that's how it was for a while. You confronted him about it, how you'd never see him anymore and how your daughter would look for him late at night. He promised you that he would try to be home more, for you and your kids. He kept his promise, only for it to be broken a couple weeks later. Promises are meant to be broken right?

The emptiness you felt without Jaehyun almost made you go crazy. You began to miss his familiar scent, the way he would hold you in the late night, everything about him you missed. You watched as your relationship turned sour; normal conversations with him would turn into full-blown arguments. The last fight you guys had ended up with you kicking Jaehyun out of the house. Sick and tired of him coming home late drunk, you forced him out for the night which lasted into a week. He only came back to grab a couple of his things.

The sight of seeing Jaehyun in your shared home made you livid. All the pent up anger and frustration in you suddenly exploded, yelling and shouting at the man who you call your husband. "You've got some nerve to come back here." Your voice low and stern, careful not to wake up your children. 

"I'm sorry, are you forgetting who's paying for this house?" He retaliates.

"Both of us you asshole." You scoff. "Why the hell are you even here anyways?" 

"I still live here."

You can't help but laugh at his statement, your mind going back to all those nights you spent alone. "Oh do you now?" Sarcasm dripping in your words. "Last time I remember, you were rarely home." 

He groans and rubs his face in his hands. "Oh my god Y/N not this bullshit again. You know damn well why I'm not home."

"Because of your friends? Because of your 'company' dinners? You always come home drunk Jae, if you even decide to come home!" Your tone slowly raises, anger slowly spilling out of you.

"For fucks sake, am I not allowed to relax and spend some time with some friends? God forbid me from having any fun." 

You feel your heart breaking, like it's a fragile piece of glass that's about to shatter at any moment. "That's not what I said!" You defend yourself. "I don't care what you do with your friends, all I'm asking you is to spend some time with your family once in a while."

His face was turning red, the veins in his neck began to pop out. "I do spend time with you guys!"

"Do you? Jesus Christ Jae, you missed Youngji's birthday 2 weeks ago, your own fucking daughter. How could you?"

Jaehyun knew he was in the wrong, he wanted to stop and apologize. But his ego said otherwise. "I was—"

"At work, of course, you were. Do you have any idea how disappointed she was to not see her dad at her birthday party?" 

"Do you want me to quit or something?"

"Jung Jaehyun, you know that's not what I want at all!" 

"Fuck this, I'm leaving." He stormed off, slamming the door on his way out. The tears that you didn't know you were holding back finally poured out. Your glass-like heart finally shattering into a million pieces.

Jaehyun slammed the car door as he pulled out his phone and texted the boys. 'Meet you guys at the club!' 

His big hands gripped onto the steering wheel as he drove to their usual meet up, anger still coursing through his veins. He tries to calm himself down before entering with his buddies. They immediately notice his mood, jokingly poking fun at him. "Aww did mama bear rip you to shreds today?" One of them teases.

Jaehyun ignored the remark and orders drinks for himself. A few shots later, his swaying back forth on the dance floor. He was drunk, but not to the point where he was messed up. Jaehyun stumbled over to the lounge couch, sitting down to regain himself. He rubbed his face in his hands when he felt the cushion beside him sink down. "Hey cutie," An unfamiliar voice called out. "What are you doing here alone?"

He rubbed his eyes to reveal a girl who looks much younger than he was. She was pretty and she smelled of flowers. She was wearing a sleeveless dress and her long, silky hair was tucked behind her ear. "Why don't I give you some company yeah?" She said seductively as she moved closer. 

Jaehyun chuckled, the alcohol spreading throughout his body. Her hand rubbed against his arm, batting her eyelashes at him. Her eyes trailed down to his hand where the silver band wrapped around his finger. "Oh, you're married. Well then," She brought her face closer to his as she whispered against his lips. "don't tell your wife."

It was like something inside of him snapped back to reality. He aggressively shoved the girl off of him and she looked annoyed. "Get off me!" He shouted, standing up. 

"C'mon, it'll be our little secret." She clings onto his arm.

"Just get lost will you?" He says sternly. She rolls her eyes and scoffs. 

"Whatever, jerk."

Jaehyun feels the urge to go back home to his family. He sobered up quickly and left the club, leaving his friends behind without a word. The drive home felt oddly long. Her voice echoed in his head. He felt so utterly guilty of what could've happened. You were the love of his life, the mother of his children. You were his wife that he loved unconditionally. Tears brimmed in his eyes as he realized how close he was to losing you and his kids, his family for good. He realized how selfish he had been for the past year. To say he felt absolutely awful was an understatement. 

The view of the familiar house came into view. He parked his car in the driveway and went straight up to the door. He moved his hand to knock, but quickly remembered that he still had the key. He twists the knob open and went inside, frantically looking for you. He found you sitting in the living room, hugging yourself into a ball. "Y/N" He called out. 

You lift your head and stood up to see a distressed Jaehyun. "Jae—"

Jaehyun interrupts you with a bone crushing hug. "I'm sorry," He mutters, "I'm so sorry for everything, love." 

You felt tears hit the top of your head and you inhaled his calming scent that was mixed with alcohol. "Did you drive drunk?" You ask, worry filling your voice. "How many times do I have to remind you to never do that Jae! You could've have died!"

He hugged you tighter, amazed at how you still cared for him no matter what. "That could never compare to losing my family. God, I'm so sorry for the way I treated you guys." He sobbed. "I'm so sorry for not being here, for not being the husband and father I promised you I would be." 

Your own eyes started to fill with tears at his apology. "You're here now, so it's okay." You whimper. 

"You know damn well it's not. Fuck, I can't believe I put you through all that. I'm so sorry honey." His soothing voice made you cried harder, letting out all the sadness that you kept inside. "I promise I'll be better. I promise I'll be here for you guys more. Just please, don't leave me, I can't bear to lose you."

"I could never leave you, love."

Jaehyun pulled away and cupped your face. He wiped the remaining tears away with his thumb and gave you a long, passionate kiss. "I love you so much, never forget that." He says, kissing you once again. 

"I love you too Jae, so much." He kissed you once more before pulling you into another hug. You two stayed like that for a while, feeling peace and comfort once again. 

"Daddy's home!!" The sound of your little girl rung through the living room. 

Jaehyun pulled away and bent down, opening his arms to the little girl running towards him. He peppered her face in kisses as she giggles. "What is my little angel doing up this late?" He smiles, carrying her in his arms. "Let’s get you back to bed sweetheart."

You watched from behind as he walked away with your daughter to her bedroom. You smiled at the sight. He's finally back home.