#it always throws me when i icon marvel's voices i get distracted

[fatummortem]

     Replies are going slow, so like this for a muse in your askbox & i’ll send randomness or a meme. Reply if ya wanna specific muse or ya want me to focus on a specific muse of yours (if you’re a mult), otherwise I’ll pick randomly.

[crowdedimagines]

It’s Just PR - Shawn Mendes (PART TWO)

Ft. Harry Styles:) PART ONE 

Shawn quickly storms away after that, much to everyone’s relief. It’s weird to see him act like this, let alone in front of so many people. This whole summer has been about his image, but it seems like tonight he doesn’t care for that a whole lot.

“I am so sorry for the way he was acting. Usually he isn’t so awful to other people, but his jealousy really does bring out the worst in him.”

“No worries at all, love.” Harry reassures, “Are you okay? I wasn’t the only one here he was saying hurtful things to.”

I take his words into consideration, and he’s right. Shawn and I fight, as most couples do, but ever since this whole PR thing started it’s made everything so much worse between us. Less dates together and our nights in were usually spent feuding the entire time.

“You never got to answer my question. What awards are you up for tonight?” Harry quickly changes the subject.

“Umm, Song of the Summer and Artist of the Year.”

“Wow.” He grins proudly, “Those are big awards! I’m sure you’ll kill it.”

“I hope so, I’m running against Seniorita for song of the summer. And then again against Shawn for artist of the year.” I roll my eyes. “Sorry, tonight isn’t actually supposed to be about him.”

“It’s fine, love. Just breath. You’re doing great.”

Harry reaches out to take my hand in his which I accept. Is this wrong? Shawn and I obviously have issues between us, but we never officially broke up. Why do I have to feel guilty about this when I know tonight he’s going to be all over her.

Harry and I only get to talk for a few minutes before the show officially starts. The host comes out and says his cheesy lame jokes that manage their way into every award show. Taylor Swift opened the show which was seemingly a bit awkward, even though it’s been years since her and Harry dated. Her performance was amazing and iconic, per usual, and things kept moving after that.

“I think you’re up next, love!” Harry leans in to whisper loudly over the cheers of the audience.

“Alright next up, we have Song of the Summer.” They continue to read off the other nominees, Harry teasingly leans in and bumps my shoulder when the camera pans to me and I roll my eyes with a smile nonetheless.

“And the winner is…”

They pause to open up the envelope and build up everyone’s anticipation.

“Ariana Grande with Boyfriend!”

I can’t help but grin widely not only for someone who is my friend to win, but more importantly for the song that has been ruining my entire summer to lose.

“Well, you’ve still got another one.” Harry encourages, his arm is laid across the back of my chair.

“I don’t care if I win. I’ve had a good night, thanks to you.”

His dimples make a reappearance while he humbly shakes his head.

“I’m actually really glad you called. It’s been far too long since we’ve seen each other. We’ve seen each other, but we haven’t hung out truly in years.”

He’s right. We stopped hanging out when I started dating Shawn. There had always been this unspoken connection between Harry and I. Once I became exclusive, it felt wrong to still be seeing him.

“I’m glad I did too.”

The lights in the room dim around us, meaning it’s likely there’s another performance about to happen. It takes less than a second to recognize the dreaded first notes to the song. Shawn and Camila both make their appearance and sing the song through, dancing together.

His hand grabs her waist and slowly slides down.

“Jesus.” I mutter.

Harry lets out a chuckle at my reaction.

“Let’s make a game of it.” Harry whispers, being a perfect distraction from the sight unfolding in front of me, “Let’s go take a shot everytime they do something cringey.”

“I don’t know what’s funnier, the fact I can’t tell if you’re joking. Or the fact that you just said cringey.”

We both breakout in laugher, the rest of the crowd is in awe as they finish the song. Harry and I are still laughing when I look up to see Shawn and Camila center stage, right on the edge. It looks like they were supposed to kiss, but now Camila is awkwardly leaning up towards him while Shawn’s focus is lasered on us.

“I can’t wait for this night to be over.” I whisper, the lights all go out and come back on again once the stage is cleared and they’re ready to move on with everything. They filter through more awards and finally they get to the category I’ve been most anticipating tonight.

“Alright, our last award of the evening is Artist of the Year. Here are our nominees.”

They continue to show everyone who’s been nominated this year, the camera pans to me and I smile and feel my cheeks warm slightly. Right after that it cuts to Shawn who I didn’t notice join the crowd somewhere. Camila is glued pretty close to his side, and every sense of guilt I had previously is gone.

“And the winner is… Y/n!” They cheer my name and my legs are standing me up before I can truly process it. Harry pulls me in for a tight hug and I smile. I quickly run around to the stage and up the steps. I hug the two people who were presenting and turn towards the microphone.

“I want to start off with saying that I am so thankful. I wouldn’t be here tonight if it wasn’t for my loyal fans who have always had my back. Speaking of loyal, I would also like to thank my friends and family. They have also gotten me here, and made me into the person I am today. I would also like to say a quick thank you for my inspiration behind my music. Love is always changing, so here’s to new inspiration.”

The crowd breaks out in a cheer and I hold out my award with a smile. I can feel Shawn’s eyes burning into me, but I don’t make our eyes meet. Instead, I smirk proudly. They guide me to the backstage where they take several photos for press. Eventually, I make it back out and find Harry.

“Hey, are you ready to finally leave?” He asks with a grin.

“Thank god, yes!”

He holds out his arm like the polite gentleman that he is and we walk outside and wait for his car to pull up. We both are in the middle of talking when we hear a voice clear their throat behind us. I turn only to be met with Camila and Shawn, closely behind us. I’m sure Shawn is the one who cleared his throat.

“Camila, you look lovely tonight. I love the dress.” I smile.

She hesitates and I can tell the compliment throws her off. Camila glances to Shawn, obviously confused before she sputters out a thank you and I turn back around. I have a proud smirk for catching her so off guard. I meant what I said, I wasn’t lying to her. She does look really nice tonight. Especially with my man on her arm.

“You’re an evil little minx, aren’t you?” Harry teases, leaning down to whisper in my ear.

“Trust me, this is nothing.”

In perfect timing, Harry’s car pulls up and he holds the door open for me to slide in first. Harry follows shortly after. I manage to catch a glimpse of Shawn’s eyes before the door shut. It’s a mixture of expressions across his face in a split second. Hurt. Anger. Jealousy. 

should this become a series?  FEEDBACK PLZ

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[9worldstales]

INTERESTING POINTS TO PONDER FROM INTERVIEWS 7

Interviews might not remain forever available or not be easy to find so I’ve decided to link them and transcribe the points I find of some interest so as to preserve them should the interview had to end up removed.

It’s not complete transcriptions, just the bits I think can be relevant but I wholeheartedly recommend reading the whole thing.

And of course I also comment all this because God forbid I’ll keep silent… :P

Title: EXCLUSIVE: Screenwriter Don Payne Talks Thor!

Author: Elisabeth Rappe

Published: Feb 23, 2011

BEST BITS FROM THE INTERVIEW

ABOUT THE SCRIPT FOR “THOR”

Thor has seen a lot of screenwriters come and go, and I imagine that led to some very drastic changes to the character and story. Can you talk at all about that process, and what changes were made over the course of project? (For example, I know rumors swirled very early that the Thor movie would be an origin story with his alter ego, Dr. Donald Blake!) How did the script come together? At what point in the process did you come on board, and what was your contribution?

Don Payne: First off, for the record, the final, official WGA writing credits for the film are “Story by J. Michael Straczynski and Mark Protosevich, Screenplay by Ashley Edward Miller & Zack Stentz and Don Payne.” Any other writing credits you might have seen elsewhere are either outdated or incorrect.

As far as how the script came together, J. Michael Straczynski and Mark Protosevich worked on the project before Kenneth Branagh came on board to direct. At that point, Ken and Marvel sat down and decided exactly what kind of story they wanted to tell. They took everything that had been written so far and figured out a game plan. Marvel then hired Ashley Miller and Zack Stentz, and, as I understand it, those guys worked pretty intensely on the screenplay over the course of four or five months. After they left the project, Marvel hired me, and I stayed on all the way through the end — about a year and a half total. For the first eight months, I continued to develop, rewrite, and restructure the screenplay, bringing in new characters and new scenes. I worked closely with Ken and Marvel throughout the process, and, as the cast came together, I worked with Ken and the actors during rehearsals here and in London.

Then, once production started in January 2010, I was on set writing every day, both at the studio in Manhattan Beach and on location in New Mexico, and continued to work through post-production.

I’d like to say more about how the script has evolved since the very beginning of the development process, but I don’t want to spoil anything. I hate spoilers. (Mostly because I’m weak, and I can’t resist them myself!) But I’ll be happy to talk about it all after the film comes out. What I can say is that this really has been the greatest writing experience of my life. I’ve never worked harder or been as closely involved day-to-day on a project as I have on Thor.

And as far as Thor’s alter-ego goes, as Kevin Feige has said, people looking for a Donald Blake reference might just find one.

ABOUT THOR’S JOURNEY AND FAMILY

I know you’ve worked with iconic superheroes before, was Thor more or less daunting to deal with? He’s a real anachronistic, medieval character. How do you bring that into the modern world? Is it ultimately the same as trying to make any superhero realistic and relatable?

Don Payne: Well, I think the challenges are pretty apparent. As you say, Thor’s a unique character, and it’s an unusual story we’re telling. When you’ve got something like Captain America, the premise is easier to get right away — he’s a superhero fighting Nazis in World War II. Whereas we’ve got an extra-dimensional being once worshipped as a god by the ancient Norse who’s banished to earth and stripped of his powers to learn humility, all set amidst the Shakespearean intrigue of a dysfunctional royal family. It’s not as simple to grasp.

You just have to find the things that make Thor timeless and relatable as a character. It certainly helps that he’s charismatic and likeable, albeit flawed. He’s banished for good reason, but I think people will want to go on the journey with him and root for him to find redemption — particularly with Chris Hemsworth’s performance.

I think what really makes Thor relatable are the family relationships. There’s a lot of dysfunction in the House of Odin. Thor’s got a hard-ass father and a jealous brother. But for all of Thor’s hardheaded rebelliousness, he, like Loki, is really just trying to live up to his father’s expectations and make him proud. I think people can relate to that father and son dynamic.

ABOUT SIF, THE WARRIORS THREE AND HEIMDALL

What can you tell me about the parts popular Asgardians such as Heimdall, the Warriors Three, and Sif play in the overall plot? Will we see more of them in other Marvel movies? Is there potential for a Sif spinoff, as she has enjoyed in the comics?

Don Payne: The Warriors Three and Sif are very much like they are in the comics. They’re fierce warriors who are fiercely dedicated to their friend Thor. They’ll follow him anywhere — which might not always be the wisest thing. Also, as in the comics, Heimdall is bound by duty and honor to guard his post on the Rainbow Bridge, and he’s got serious issues with anyone who tries to cross it who would endanger Asgard.

As far as seeing these characters in other movies or their own spin-off films, I think Marvel already has a full slate of projects in development, so I imagine we’ll only see them as part of the Thor franchise. But you never know. I’d ask Kevin Feige if I were you!

ON THE HUMOUR OF THE MOVIE

One element that jumped out at me in the trailer was the comedy – it felt very light and natural, not corny. (Jane reacting to Thor’s name, for example, or the coffee cup scene.) How did you strike the balance between the comedy and drama of the piece? Were there moments where you thought “Ok, this goes too far with the fish-out-of-water joke”?

Don Payne: Well, my hope is we’ve included just enough humor in the script, but no more than that. This isn’t a comedy, and that’s not what I was hired to do. It’s an action film, and, as in all action films, you need those fun moments. But you have to do it sparingly. You don’t want things to get silly.

One thing we all agreed about early on was to make sure we were careful about how we approached the fish-out-of-water moments. We didn’t want Thor to come to earth and suddenly become an idiot for comic relief. Even without his powers, he’s the same person on earth as he was in Asgard — a smart, headstrong warrior. He’s a being from an advanced race who’s used to travelling to other worlds and thinking on his feet. We didn’t want him looking at a television set and going, “What is yon magic box, with phantoms that move and speak inside it?”

Still, he’s on unfamiliar turf, and there’s some fun in that. You just have to find the right balance. You also want to have fun moments and dialogue during the action sequences, so you put those into the script. Of course, those bits are the easiest to cut in editing if you find the jokes are too much or too distracting. You can pick and choose.

ON JANE AND DARCY

I particularly liked how Jane and Darcy react to Thor’s arrival. They aren’t immediately throwing themselves at him. They think he’s hot, but likely to be crazy. I know you’re a staunch feminist, so I imagine their portrayal was important to you. Can you talk about how you approached them? It seems rare to have two girls in a single Marvel film, possibly competing for Thor’s attention. How did that play into the romance, and how did you approach the relationship between Thor and Jane? Did Natalie Portman and Kat Dennings have any input into their characters?

Don Payne: Kat did an amazing job taking the words on the page as written and making them fly. She really embodied the character of Darcy.

After the second trailer came out, I read some people mistakenly speculate that her character was created as a marketing decision to appeal to the youth audience or some such thing — as if the producers sat down and said, “Hmm… this script is good, but we need a character to appeal to the tweens! With current pop cultural references!” I promise you, that wasn’t the case at all. I came up with Darcy because we needed someone to work with Jane Foster, and the character had to have a vastly different background, personality, and world-view from Jane in order to make that relationship interesting. I decided to make her a woman, frankly, because other than Sif and Frigga, we had a very male-heavy cast of characters. I thought it might also be interesting to have someone working for Jane who both frustrated her and who Jane saw as protégé whose potential she could help fully realize.

But I also wanted Darcy to be the voice of the common man. We’ve got Asgardians and astrophysicists, so I wanted someone to say what the average moviegoer might be thinking. If someone in the audience is thinking, “What the hell is that weird, glowing thing?!” Darcy should be asking “What the hell is that weird, glowing thing?!” (That line isn’t actually in the movie, but you get the idea…)

Natalie actually helped out tremendously with the character of Jane Foster. Let’s be honest, Jane Foster in the comics has traditionally been one of the most boring characters in the Marvel Universe. In the film, she’s an astrophysicist, so that makes her more interesting right off the bat. And it doesn’t hurt that she’s played by Natalie, who brings loads of personality and charm to any character she portrays.

Originally in the script, however, Jane was more of a traditional scientist — a hardcore skeptic. But Natalie came to the first rehearsal with the idea of turning that on its end. She suggested making Jane the believer. She thought Jane could be more of a kind of “scientist as poet” — someone who thinks outside of the box, someone whose theories are considered outlandish and are frowned upon by the scientific community. But it’s the kind of thinking that leads to great discoveries. When Thor arrives, she’s willing to take a leap of faith — and she has to pay the consequences for it. Natalie’s input made the character more interesting, improved her relationship with Thor, and, in general, made the story better. And she helped make sure Jane Foster isn’t boring. So I’m grateful to her for that.

During my story meetings with Ken and Marvel, we put a lot of work into the Thor/Jane relationship, and there was much discussion about exactly how and how quickly things should progress between them. I think we succeeded in developing their romance realistically, so it doesn’t feel forced.

ABOUT HEIMDALL AND THE MCU TAKE

There has also been a lot of ugly and foolish controversy about Idris Elba being cast as Heimdall. I don’t like to justify bigotry with attention, but has the reaction surprised you and the rest of the team?

Don Payne: You’d think as a society we’d be beyond this now. The funny thing is, this film was never meant to be a straight representation of traditional Norse mythology. It’s the cinematic take on the Marvel comics take on Norse mythology. In fact, in the reality of our movie, the Norse myths are actually based on our version of the Asgardians, after they visited ancient Norway. The Norse just got some things wrong, based on their primitive understanding of their encounters. (Like, for example, worshiping the Asgardians as gods.)

The bottom line is Idris is great in the movie. I think almost all of the people who are skeptical or have issues with the casting will be convinced when they see the movie — except for all the actual racists out there. But who needs them?

MY TWO CENTS

This interview is so goddamn awesome because it’s so informative. Don Payne talked about a lot of topics and didn’t give just two lines answers but well rounded explanations. There’s so much more than the bits I’ve selected but I couldn’t really copypaste it all, though I wholeheartedly recommend you to read it.

I’d kill to get a peck at the old scripts but definitely there was a lot of work ongoing to produce the definitive one.

Anyway I love how almost all Marvel seems to know Odin is a bad father yet Odin doesn’te ven get a slap on his wrists. Really guys...

I like how he admits Thor’s journey is one of redemption... but really that’s not how you made a redemption arc...

I also find interesting how again we get a confirmation that Sif and the Warriors Three are ‘fiercely dedicated to THEIR FRIEND THOR’.

In the movie Thor says:

Thor: Why don't you tell her how you sent the Destroyer to kill our friends, to kill me?

But the truth is that those were his friends, not both’s. For the Warriors Three and Sif there was never a choice between Thor and Loki. They were Thor’s friends and to him their loyalty went.

I also like how he says he hopes they included enough humor, but no more than that as this is an action film, and, while fun moments are needed they need to have them sparingly of things get silly. How they didn’t want Thor to come to earth and suddenly become an idiot for comic relief. How they didn’t want for the jokes to end up being too distracting. I think this speaks of care for the story.

They even put care in creating Jane and Darcy. I still think they could do Jane better, but still they tried.

[blackmissfrizzle]

Dirty Little Secret Part 2

Title: Dirty Little Secret Part 2

Characters: Chris Evans x black!reader

Summary: The reader attends Ace Comic-Con with Chris

Word Count: 1331

Being out in the public with Chris had been the best decision. Sure, there were some racists trolls and paparazzi would try to photograph you two all the time, but it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Chris would shut down the haters and you both tried your best to keep your whereabouts a secret. The good definitely outweighed the bad.

You even attended Chris’s high school reunion, which you had a blast there. His old classmates wasted no time telling you embarrassing stories of Chris and you ate it up. Chris was glad to bring you to his reunion. People would think he would want to brag about his Hollywood life, but all he did was brag about you and how lucky he was.

Now you were standing offstage while Chris, Don, and Jeremy were answering questions for the Ace Comic-Con. Currently, the moderator was asking about the acrylic memes of himself that was taking over social media. You thought those memes were a gift from God, especially the one that went over Civil War.

“Yeah, my girlfriend showed me them. Well, she tried to. She was too busy crying over how funny they were. Our favorite one is the recap from Civil War.” Chris explained how he found out about his new makeovers.

Excited to hear about you, Angelique, directed her questioning to the topic of you. “Speaking of your girlfriend. You broke a lot of hearts when you two publicized your relationship at the Endgame premiere. How’s everything going with you two?”

Chris instantly blushed at the mention of you and you heard the whole crowd go ‘awww’. “Great. Everything’s great. Except she got mad at me for not warning her about Cap’s ending.” Everyone in the room laughed at that.

Don butted in. “I don’t know how you didn’t tell her. Have y’all seen that video of Y/N kicking MBJ’s butt in the boxing ring. I’m scared of her. All she would have to do is raise her voice and I’d be singing like a canary.” The crowd erupted into laughter once again.

Luckily, they were able to shift the questions from you and into other things. Angelique had just asked the men what their favorite fighting scene from all of the movies and Chris accidently cussed, which caused you to palm your face, and he immediately followed it up with his iconic line ‘Language.’

Cheadle got up to point to a child, “There’s a child right here.” As he and Renner went off stage, he pointed at you, “Even your girlfriend is disappointed in you!”

The moderator had the crowd chant to bring back Don and Jeremy onstage and they also cheered for you to join them. With enough coaxing from the pair and the crowd, all three of you joined the stage.

Since there were no extra seats on the stage, Chris pulled you into his lap and gave you a kiss, causing all the women and some men in the room to swoon.

“Welcome, Y/N. Since I already got these fine gentlemen’s answer, would you please like to tell us what’s your favorite fight from the MCU?”

Why did she ask you such a hard question? You probably had more than 5 favorite fights. In response you bit your nails and a sheepish look on your face, which made everyone laugh. “Oh my God, that’s so hard! There’s so many. Obviously, there’s Chris’s elevator fight, the airport fight, the Avengers last fight, the Endgame battle, the last fight in Infinity War, and the casino fight in Black Panther.”

Chris laughed at your enthusiasm; he knew how much of a Marvel fan you really were. “Babe, she asked for one fight not all of them.”

“Y’all see how mean he is. Hmph, that’s why Anthony is my favorite Captain America.” You elbowed your boyfriend in his not so soft stomach, but he still grunted in pain. “Anyway, before I was rudely interrupted,” you cut your eyes to Chris. “I’m gonna say my favorite fight has to be the casino fight in Black Panther and it all has to do with Dani throwing that wig! I actually bought a wig for that exact reason. I wore it when I was sparring with my trainer, and I whipped it off and threw it at him and I managed to take him down in my fastest time.”

Don looked at you in awe. “See this is why I love black women. Now, I just wanna see a bunch of wigs flying throughout a fight.”

After that the questions were directed towards Chris, Jeremy, and Don. You would give your input every so often and some questions would be directed towards you. A young black girl asked if you considered being in a Marvel movie, which your response was you wished you could, but your acting skills were horrible and that there was so much undiscovered talent that you would feel guilty for taking a role.

The questions were rolling when Chris got distracted by a dog. He actually got off stage to pet the fan’s dog. “This happens every time,” you pointed at Chris. “When he sees a dog, he drops everything. I mean everything and goes to pet them. I honestly think Chris is a dog in human form and he’s tricking us all.” you explained to the crowd.

Chris finished petting the dog and awkwardly hopped back onto the stage. Then he tried to be cool by flipping his mic, but he failed when he dropped it.

“Dork,” you mumbled.

When he returned to his seat, Chris licked your face. “Since, you believe I’m a dog.”

You wiped the cheek he licked with a look of pure disgust. “You’re just mad because Dodger loves me more,” you taunted him.

The rest of the con went on with a breeze. When Chris was taking pictures with fans, some even asked you to join and you happily obliged.

By the time you left the con, you and Chris returned to the hotel and automatically prepared for bed. You didn’t realize how exhausting being at a comic-con could be.

“How do you think today went,” Chris asked from his bed while you were going through your bedtime routine in the bathroom.

“Babe, it was amazing. I don’t know why I was so worried. Is it always like this?”

Chris broke out into a smile. He knew you would fall in love with the cons, he thought it was the best part of his job. Meeting the people who loved the work he did and supported him was wonderful and Chris was glad you got to enjoy it. “Yup. It’s even more fun with RDJ there, but I’m kinda scared if you and Robert shared the same stage.”

Offended that your boyfriend didn’t want you to share a stage with one of your good friends, you poked your head through the door to peer at him. “Listen to me Evans, me and Robert would be fun on the stage.”

“That’s my point! You two you would be ganging up on me.”

Going back to your nighttime routine you manically laughed at Chris. People typically hated when you and Robert were in the same room, because you would two would team up and roast everyone in the room and Chris is usually your favorite target.

“Maybe you have a point.”

Chris and you fell into a comfortable silence while you finished getting ready for bed. You were reminiscing over the day and he was practicing his speech for you in his head for tomorrow. When you finished getting ready, you joined Chris into bed he instinctively pulled you into his embrace. He smiled against your neck and you thought he was happy at the turn of events for today, but in reality, his smile stemmed from his excitement about the ring he was planning on giving you and taking one step closer of making you Mrs. Chris Evans.

Tags: @blackreaders-assemble @chaneajoyyy @pastelastronomy24 @dumbchick @nickidub718 @valkyriesnymph @marvelmaree @lildashofmelanin @cyrioussoul @wakanda-inspired @destinio1 @toniilaney @euphoric05 @yoyolovesbucky

[jennifersylvesters]

not so subtle - part eleven

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield x reader Word Count: 4 k~ Warning: swearing A/N: surprise, bitch. i bet you’d thought you’d seen the last of me. happy osterfield october! cheers to that and cheers to it apparently being a mcfrickin’ year since i posted the bullet points for “not so subtle” and conned y’all into reading. feedback is always appreciated ~

You should’ve gone after him. You should’ve flung yourself into his arms. You should’ve kissed him the way he kissed you. You should’ve told him something, anything. 

You should’ve gone to the Bahamas and told him how you felt. You should’ve laid it all on the line, telling him how no one could hold a candle to the light he ignited. How could they when Harrison orbited your thoughts?

You should’ve done a grand romantic gesture. You should’ve serenaded him in front of thousands of people. Okay, maybe bring the number to double digits. No way you’d perform with that many people around. You should’ve set up a room with an exorbitant amount of candles before confessing your feelings. You should’ve shown him how much you cared, how much he meant. 

But you didn’t. And maybe that was the problem.

Instead you stood drenched in the rain wondering what all of it meant. You replayed the scene over and over, so caught up in your thoughts that you hadn’t noticed hours pass by. 

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that you found yourself sick, completely congested and downright miserable. The mountain of used tissues seemed to grow along with your headache. No way in hell you could fly when you could barely make it to the bathroom without a dizzy spell. 

“I can’t do it, Ems” you whimpered on the phone before letting coughing violently. Goodbye lung one. “I’m literally dying here.”

“You’re seriously not going to come with us?” You knew how much Emma had been looking forward to this trip, and your sickness had thrown a wrench in her plans. Despite trying to suppress her irritation, you heard it laced in her tone. You would’ve done anything for your best friend, but there was no way in hell you were going to the Bahamas.

“Emma, I can’t” you groaned as you blew your nose loudly. 

“We were looking forward to this-” 

Someone cut Emma off, filling your ear with muffled noise. In the background you heard her toss around the words “sick”, “cancel” and “true love”. You weren’t sure what to make of that.

Emma returned to the line, clearing her throat before stating briskly “Fine. Tom said he hopes you feel better.” You mumbled a thanks, grateful he managed to convince your best friend to drop the matter. “I still think you should go, but he says this might make it worse.” 

“I’m really sorry, Ems” you apologized. “You know I wanna go. I just don’t wanna throw up on the plane and ruin everyone’s vacation.” 

“Hey. I know you do” her voice softened slightly. “Get better soon, okay?” 

With a final cough and a “have fun”, you hung up and collapsed back to bed.

Rather than enjoying sunny island fun, Kimberly insisted you road trip with her and Sarah down to her cabin. You could recover better with people watching over you instead of cooped up in the apartment. Off to grandmother’s house Kimberly’s cabin we go. 

The drive consisted of you in the back seat attempting to sweat out your fever while the other two sang along to the radio. Let the girlfriends have their fun while you died in the back seat. 

When you arrived at Kimberly’s cabin, her mother smothered you with love and medicine. She doted on you as if you were her own, making sure that you immediately went to bed and only called you when it was time to eat. 

By the time you recovered, only a couple days of spring break were left. You wanted to make the most of it though you weren’t much for outdoor activities. It didn’t help that this vacation was clearly meant to be alone time for Sarah and Kimberly. There they were, enjoying one another’s company while you third wheeled. They insisted they didn’t mind but you knew better. 

Thank god for Kimberly’s brother, Ryan. He was a good, friendly distraction from the couple. The two of you could hang out separately without imposing on your friends. You enjoyed how he marveled over you knowing actual celebrities. No need to include details of you fainting from merely being in the presence of some. 

Still, you couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if you went to the Bahamas. Would you be soaking up the sun? Running around the beach? Maybe even posting cheesy tourist photos? Perhaps you’d be kissing someone special under the starry sky, interlacing your fingers together as you agreed this was your sacred place - the place where you admitted your love. 

Haha. Huge sike. 

That, of course, was purely imagination. Instead your reality consisted of getting over colds and exploring nature. The only evidence of your fun was a singular photo posted on Instagram. Kimberly snapped a picture of you groaning next to a laughing Ryan whose arm slung tightly around your waist. You didn’t bother adding a caption; no way you wanted to explain how moments prior he caught you before you nearly plunged off the side of a trail. 

You wondered if Harrison would comment. He never did.

In fact, he never messaged you at all. He went completely silent on social media. No Instagram stories. No Twitter updates. No Snapchat stories. Nothing. 

“You know you could text him, right? It might make you feel better” Kimberly advised. 

Easier said than done. Every day you contemplated sending a text. Every day you made up an excuse. It was simple to chalk it up to being too busy than finding the guts to message him. 

Still you knew your roommate was right. She always was. Stupidly smart Kimberly. 

On your last day of spring break, you paced the floor before clicking through your contacts. You stared at the contact name “Lil Shit 💩”. Why was a poop emoji making you so nervous? Why couldn’t you just suck it up and say something? Why the hell was this so difficult? 

Just fucking text him already. 

Slowly you typed out a message. It wasn’t much but you assumed it would at least get a response. 

Y/N: Hey - how’s the Bahamas?

Your finger shakily hovered over the send icon. Send it. Just press the damn button. 

What was the worst that could happen? He could hit you up with that “new number who’s this”. He could tell you to fuck off. He could call you the wrong name. 

Finally you clicked send, heart pounding. 

You watched the message change from “message sent” to “message delivered”. It was nice to know he got phone coverage in the Bahamas.

Sarah called your name, distracting you from this mild obsession.You grabbed your belongings, heading downstairs. As the three of you loaded into the car, you noticed that the status had changed. He read the message. Well, that’s good. At least he got your text. 

A couple days passed and still no response. 

“Maybe he was busy?” Kimberly suggested. “Just send him another text.” 

Taking her advice, you shot off another text. 

Y/N: So are you back in the UK? 

And then there it was.

He left you on read. Again. 

Oh. So this was the worst option. 

Being ridiculed by Harrison was annoying but being ignored by Harrison was pure torture. 

It didn’t matter how many premieres Emma invited you to. You could attend all the after parties or party at every kick back. He wasn’t there. You wouldn’t have cared if you knew he was preoccupied with work, but he was actively avoiding you. And that fucking sucked.

When had things changed? When had arguing with Harrison become one of your favorite pastimes? When did you realize just how important he had become to you?

Spring classes resumed. Exams followed. You went through the motions, wondering what you two would be doing if he actually visited. Probably arguing. Potentially kissing. Of course he wasn’t there to prove any of your theories so you were left speculating the ‘what-ifs’. 

For months he ignored you. He had to break eventually, right? With summer vacation approaching, you assumed he’d finally talk. Say something damn it. 

You expected him at the Fourth of July party. Emma threw it every year at her parents’ house, gussying up the place with sparklers and birthday decorations. She insisted they could celebrate America’s independence as well as Harrison’s birthday. No one noted the irony of celebrating a Brit’s birthday on this specific holiday. 

Harrison always came, laughing about how his birthday should’ve been the national holiday. Your typical retort was telling him to stop being salty about America’s freedom. The two of you bantered about everything, from the consistency of the fireworks to what present you got him. (“I got you the gift of not kicking your ass.” “Lovely.”)

He never showed that day. 

All the Holland boys showed up, greeting you with hugs and huge smiles. No Harrison. 

Who was celebrating Harrison’s birthday with him? Was he alone or partying with other friends? Was there anyone there to make him a cake and wish him a happy birthday? You wanted to know but couldn’t find the courage to ask. 

Instead you pretended to have fun. You stuffed your mouth with food and sipped alcohol freely. You laughed at jokes and danced energetically. No way you missed Harrison’s painfully terrible hot dog jokes. Of course you didn’t mind that he wasn’t there to make dumb bets about how long the fireworks would last. 

It was just another party without him. Maybe that’s why this party wasn’t as fun as it should’ve been. 

With a nice buzz from drinking, you scrolled to his name in your contacts. “Just message him. Tell him how much he’s missing out” your brain encouraged. None of your friends were around to consult your poor decisions. The inebriation gave you an excuse to shoot off a text. 

Y/N: Enjoying the taste of freedom here in the good ol’ USA. 

That sounded like a good text. Right? 

“Send him a photo to prove you’re having a good time” the alcohol spurred your judgment. It sounded so good, so right. Of course he needed photographic proof you were having fun. 

Grabbing one of the small display flags, you rushed over to Harry Holland reclining in one of the plastic lawn chairs. He yelped as you yanked him back by his shirt slurring “Let’s take a photo to send to Harrison.” 

“Send it to Haz?” he asked incredulously before a sly smirk appeared on his face. “You finally ready to admit that you caught fe-”

“Shut up, Harry. Just take a photo with me” you snapped, refusing to let him finish that sentence. Even drunk you didn’t like where that sentence was going. 

Harry simply laughed, grabbing your phone to take the selfie. You flashed your teeth to the camera waving the small flag madly. You were so caught up in your actions that you didn’t notice Harry leaning in, catching you off guard as he planted a kiss on your cheek. 

The alcohol delayed your reaction, shoving him only once the flash went off. “What the hell was that?” Seriously, though. What the hell was that?

Harry snickered, tossing the phone in your lap. There in your messages, the photo had been sent to Harrison. What in the star spangled fuckery? 

“You’re welcome” he smirked, patting your shoulder. 

“I didn’t say thank you!” you shouted after him.

You sat in the chair, staring at the screen. The message changed to ‘read’ and you groaned throwing your head back. Of course he saw. He just never replied.

Except three moving dots appeared on the screen. You scrambled, sitting up straight. This was different. For a minute they just moved around before disappearing. Only a second later did they reappear. “Just say something already” you grumbled, the anticipation killing you.

Finally the dots disappeared for good. You groaned again, burying your face in your hands. You got your hopes up for nothing. 

“Piss off, Haz.” Your head swiveled to see Harry chuckling on the phone. Play it cool. Play it casual. Tipping backwards in the chair, you tried to eavesdrop on the conversation.

“Just talk to her. Or go back to bed. Oh, and happy birthday, div” Harry hung up. As he looked up from his phone, the two of you made eye contact. 

“You’re welcome, Y/N.”

“I didn’t say thank you” you mumbled. Minutes passed before you realized he wasn’t going to text back. Still, you couldn’t resist one more try. 

Y/N: happy birthday, harrison. 

The moving dots appeared again and your heart lurched. Say something. Say something, Harrison. Even if he just told you to shut up, you wanted a response. Any response. 

The dots disappeared and never resurfaced. 

Just like that, you spent the holiday mulling over your thoughts as fireworks burst brightly into the night sky. 

As summer dwindled to an end, you spent the rest of your break in the UK. Emma guided you around, visiting both the touristy destinations and her favorite secluded places. Still, you couldn’t ignore the elephant in the room. 

Tom had been actively avoiding you as well. He made excuses why he couldn’t tag along when he loved playing third wheel to your friendship. 

Something was definitely amiss. It wasn’t something you could easily discuss seeing as every time you approached him, he made up excuses to leave. “I gotta take this call.” Alright? “Forgot I have an appointment.” Sure? “Tessa’s pooping.” Fuck off with that nonsense. 

You loved Tom like an annoying brother which was why his odd nature pissed you off. 

“What’s your deal, Holland?” you finally snapped. A small group of you hung out in his flat where he avoided being closer than four feet from you. Pretty impressive even if his apartment was fairly spacious. 

“Deal? What deal?” he asked feigning innocence. Yeah, right. Try your acting chops on another sucker, buddy.

“Tom, what’s going on?” 

His eyes shifted around, focusing on anything that wasn’t you. 

“No idea what you mean. Oh, you hear that? Think Tessa’s calling for me.” He stood as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Tessa’s fine, Tom. Sit down.” He immediately sat down. “You’re avoiding me. Well, you and Harrison. But we’re focusing on you right now.” 

“I’m not avoiding you. I’m right here.” Still no eye contact. 

“Tom, you’re not even looking at me” you griped. “You’re totally avoiding me.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.” 

You were on the cusp of strangling your best friend’s boyfriend when Harry piped up from the kitchen. 

“Tom’s just being sour” he stated nonchalantly, fixing him and his twin brother a cup of tea.

“About what? I haven’t even done anything!” Sure, you could be an idiot but you hadn’t antagonized Tom in a while. Well, not that you could think of. This whole situation was an exasperating mess.

“I’m not being sour!” Tom interjected. 

“It’s ‘bout that new man you’ve got.” Harry hummed, ignoring his brother. Sam snickered, grabbing tea from one of the cabinets.

“What man?” you and Emma both questioned in unison. While you were utterly confused - since when did you have game for a man? - Emma looked stunned. 

“You have a man?” she mouthed to which you shook your head vigorously. 

“That man on your Instagram” Sam answered as Harry shuffled around the kitchen. 

You might’ve been impressed how both of them simply ignored their older brother’s glare if you weren’t so preoccupied trying to figure out what Sam meant. 

You pulled out your phone, scanning your Instagram profile. Looking at the first photo, you let out a snort. “Definitely not dating Sebastian Stan.”

“Oh, did you post that photo for a throwback?” Emma clapped her hands together excitedly. “You look so good! You’d never believe you’d been sobbing a couple minutes before that was taken.”

“Nah. Not that one. The guy from the woodsy photo” Harry steered the conversation back on course much to Tom’s dismay. 

“Who? Ryan?” 

“Oh, is that his name? I didn’t know” Tom remarked, acting completely surprised.

Harry choked on his tea before sputtering out a laugh. “Like you and Haz haven’t been trying to dig up dirt on the bloke” he wiped his mouth, grinning at an embarrassed Tom.

“You’ve been digging up dirt on Ryan?” you inquired, baffled that they would do that. 

“Ryan is Kimberly’s brother” Emma explained. 

“You’re dating Kimberly’s brother?” Tom’s eyebrows lifted in shock. 

“Wait, Kimberly has a brother?” 

“Which one is Kimberly again?” 

“Her flat mate.” 

“She the one who dressed up as a vagina on Halloween?” 

“Think so.”

Ignoring the younger brothers, you answered Tom’s question. “I’m not dating Ryan. Who told you that?” 

Tom went quiet, only sheepishly looking at the ground. Suddenly everything clicked. 

This fucking div. 

“Tom” you started slowly. “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?” Silence. “Is it because you thought I was dating Ryan?” 

“No!” he shook his head like a scolded child. “It’s just…” he trailed off, still avoiding eye contact. 

“Spit it out, Holland.” 

“Okay...So maybe I thought you were dating Ryan. I just...I didn’t wanna make Harrison feel bad if I talked to you after all you guys have been through. But I didn’t know how to talk to you either. It’s not like I could talk to you about your new boyfriend.”

He corrected himself as he saw your glare. “I mean, your not your new boyfriend. I just didn’t want to take sides or anything.” 

Harry shared a wry smile with you before you both shook your heads in disbelief. 

“Oh, babe.” Emma placed her hand on Tom’s knee. The two of them exchanged soft smiles before she said “That’s the dumbest thing you’ve probably ever done. And you’ve broken your nose multiple times.”

His face turned red as Harry and Sam roared with laughter. 

“It’s not even about taking sides. We all know you’d choose Harrison; he’s your best friend. But you could’ve just asked what was going on instead of assuming things” she explained. “Now I’m gonna get a cup of tea while you sort this out with Y/N.” She kissed him on his forehead before joining the twins in the kitchen. 

Tom finally looked at you properly cracking a weak smile. “I’m really sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have...I should’ve just asked.” 

You laughed, accepting his apology. How could you not? It was Tom. The two of you exchanged a brief hug before you stood up and announced you were heading out. 

“No! Stay!” Tom insisted. “Let me fix things properly.” 

You weren’t sure what that meant, but you explained you needed to pack. Eventually with Emma’s help Tom relented.You gave him another hug before leaving his place.

Humming to yourself, you felt better knowing that you cleared up that miscommunication. If only things could be that simple. You pushed open the apartment door to a crisp breeze and turned before stopping in your tracks. 

Almost four months later and there he was. 

He blinked, clear recognition in those beautiful eyes. It was clear neither of you expected to run into one another. As you cautiously approached, he tensed up though stood firmly in place. 

Now only a couple feet away, you took a proper look at him. Had he gotten more handsome? Was that even possible? His hair was longer, messier but suited him well. His hands jammed into his pockets as he kept his eyes on you. Even with the tight expression, it was comforting finally seeing him. Finally being around him. It had been so long, and you missed this. Missed him. 

“I miss you.” Of all that was holy- Did you really just say that out loud? The words slipped out of your mouth carelessly. 

His eyes widened at your confession. Those were the first words since that rainy day. It felt strong, maybe too much. But those words rang true to how you felt. You couldn’t keep it in any longer. 

“I…” you paused, wishing you could’ve composed your thoughts better. But the moment was here, and the time was now. “I just...haven’t seen you around. I didn’t realize how much I missed you till you weren’t there. It was like all I could think about was if I was ever gonna see you again, y’know?” 

Seeing him take the slightest step forward, you summoned up a bit more courage to continue. 

“I like being around you, Harrison. I like arguing even though you drive me crazy. And Jesus Christ do you drive me fucking insane. And it’s crazy to think that you’re one of my favorite people even though you’re a pain in my ass.” 

The corner of his lips twitched, fighting the urge to smile. “But I like that you’re there for me. And that you don’t make fun of my crying. And that you’re so sweet.” 

You began choking up. Oh, God! Why the hell were you doing that? 

You wanted to stop - let him process all of this - but kept going. “And I get why girls like you because your flirting is just so...It’s you and it’s charming. It’s so damn charming that all I want is your attention.” His gaze shifted downwards, staring at the pavement. No, you didn’t want that. You wanted his focus on you. Please look up. Look up.

“And I love it when you call me love.” He glanced up at as your eyes swelled up with tears. Keep looking at me. No one else but me. 

Harrison stared as you dry swallowed, rubbing the tears away. “I really do. I don’t think you even realize what that does to me. And I wish...I just wish you said it in more than a friends way.

“You’re the only person I’ve ever thought about like that.” HIs eyes darkened at that, the softness quickly disappearing as he completely stiffened up.  

“Sorry I’m late!” A pretty brunette bounced up to Harrison’s side smiling widely. 

Neither of you spoke as she continued smiling, now with a quizzical expression. “Hello, I’m Jessica” she introduced herself as she held out her hand. You shook it, muttering a polite greeting before pulling away. 

That was when Harrison’s arm went around her protectively. He pulled her closer as she wrapped her arm around his back. He kissed her cheek causing her to let out a bright laugh. 

Oh. 

A weight crushed in your chest as you forced a smile. Of course Harrison would have someone. He hadn’t waited around for you to get your shit together. You missed out on the only chance he’d given. You’d been foolish to forget that others wanted him who wouldn’t hesitate for their opportunity. The weight sunk deeper the longer you looked at the couple. 

Noting the discomforting silence, Jessica eyed you both. “Should I just meet you up there, Haz?” she asked politely. Of course she called him by that nickname. Of course she had that privilege. 

“No, we’ve basically wrapped up.” 

“Guess up to Tommy’s place then” she nudged him in the ribs playfully. 

“‘Course, love.” Oh. 

So that was Harrison’s answer to your feelings. So this was how heartbreak felt. You nearly shattered into a million pieces as he smiled at her and squeezed her shoulder softly. Tears pricked the back of your eyes once again. Hold it in. Just for a little longer hold it in. You couldn’t bear the thought of crying in front of Harrison. 

“It was nice meeting you” Jessica smiled before taking your hand and squeezing it gently. 

“Y’too” you croaked out, reminding yourself to breath. In, out. In, out. In, get the fuck out. 

You pushed past them, rushing away from Tom’s apartment. A couple blocks later you stopped and took a deep breath. Leaning forward, you placed your hands on your thighs as the mental picture of the happy couple flashed in your mind. They looked good together. Of course they did. 

So there was the truth. Harrison Osterfield was completely and utterly over you. And you weren’t sure you would ever get over the ocean eyed boy who completely owned your heart.

tags list: @sleepybesson, @sophiatomlinson23, @supernatural-girl97, @tomhaz | @alt-ernativewonderland, @bbk8lin (not sure if you wanted to me to tag you?), @blackstarryroses, @bringmethehorizonandpizza, @butithasntkilledyouyet, @chims-kookies, @choke-me-sweet-pea, @deleteidentity, @divosterfields, @highladyjel, @hollandhearts, @jessiq31, @kateelyse96, @kayla-m1996, @lovelytrashure, @otheenglishsetters, @sarcasticvodka, @soccerstud004, @spider-mendes, @thefallenbibliophilequote, @valkyriesqueen101, @wolvesofthewinter

[blancheludis]

A/N: @stony-week, day 3, prompt: “any excuse to get me to hold you”

Fandom: Marvel, MCU, Avengers Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark Tags: 2012 Avengers, Established Relationship, Bar Fight, Fluff, Humour, Team as Family

Summary: Someone insults Captain America in a bar, and Tony is not going to let that stand. He has not won many bar fights in his life, but these days he has the Avengers back him up. A night out is only fun when some blood is spilled, right? (If asked, Steve would have disagreed. Instead, they actually threw the first punch.) 

---

The man in the bar probably does not mean anything by it. Steve has a lot of experience with people saying bad things about him, and not just from the time before he got the serum. It is fine. Captain America is a symbol, an icon, and people like to forget that there is a real man inside the costume. Real men make mistakes. If their heroes are not infallible, that is just a reminder that no one is.

Also, the man is drunk. Alcohol is supposed to bring out the truth, but it also suppresses any ability to rationalize one’s thoughts. It makes the lines between reality and what one wishes reality was blur.

So, Steve would have ignored the drunk guy at the bar who is running his mouth on Captain America loud enough to be audible from their booth even without his enhanced hearing. He is not generous enough to say that it does not hurt, but it is nothing he would need to interrupt their nice evening over.

Tony, sadly, does not show the same restraint. He seems to have a radar for people saying bad things about them. If it is just against himself, he shrugs it off, but they have all learned by now that Tony is protective of those he calls his own. Somehow, the Avengers, Steve in particular, made it into that small group.

“What’s that guy saying?” Tony asks, craning his neck to find the source of the slander. He looks upset, ready to do something stupid. Then again, that is one of their specialities.

Steve puts his hand over Tony’s to hold him back. He is not surprised when that gets him a smile but does not dissuade Tony from his self-chosen mission.

“Tony –” Steve tries to prevent any unrest, but Clint cuts him off.

“I think he’s insulting our very fine leader.” Clint’s tone holds something known very well to all of them. He is eager for some excitement, his voice and eyes almost glowing with it.

Tony scrunches his face into a grimace. “That’s not – right.”

“It’s nothing,” Steve tries to mitigate. If Clint and Tony both set their eyes on a target, it usually ends in tears and a blood-chillingly high number of dollars in property damage. “He’s just drunk and doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

“He’s not even slurring his words,” Bruce chimes up, looking slightly guilty when Steve glares at him. Clint and Tony do not need any more encouragement, especially not from the probably most level-headed person in the group. Steve realizes the irony of him saying that about the Hulk.

Just as Steve is going to try to distract his teammates, the guy at the bar says, “What’s so special about him anyway. Bloody lab experiment playing Frisbee.”

It could be comical, the way Tony’s entire being tenses with sudden indignation, especially considering that he had said something very similar to Steve once. Everything special about you came out of a bottle. He just really does not like other people using his insults. More so when he has long since apologized for having been wrong.

“All right,” Tony says as he gets to his feet, face clouded with determination. “Hold my beer.”

Steve frowns, looking at the colourful drink Tony has been sipping. “You’re not drinking beer.” That is an important point to make, or so he feels, but Tony waves him off with a dismissive gesture.

“Semantics. Here,” he shoves his glass into Steve’s hand, sloshing him with cool liquid, “hold my completely non-alcoholic beverage.”

If Tony were drunk, at least, he would have a viable excuse for seeking a fight with some poor sod in a bar. The fact that he is sober makes it just worse. Although Steve cannot help but feel a little flattered that Tony would jump to his defence like that. That moment of irresponsible pondering of his boyfriend’s qualities costs him the chance to hold Tony back.

“He’s drunk on adrenaline and righteousness,” Clint says wisely, staring after Tony with open amusement, “that’s even worse.”

With the easy grace of someone who used to navigate bars all the time, Tony makes his way through the room, easily dodging other patrons, eyes set firmly on his goal. He moves with the purpose of someone knowing a fight is inevitable, hands curled slightly at his sides, every step eager.

“Things are about to get interesting,” Clint exclaims with an unholy amount of glee. “I need to see that.”

There is a reason the Avengers, as a whole, seldom go out together. In smaller groups or pairs, yes, but all of them exposed to small places and alcohol seldom ends well. Too much temper has to be contained.

Steve closes his eyes in anticipation of another night ending in chaos and split knuckles. By the time he has taken a deep breath, his whole team bar Bruce is on its way through the room.

“You should perhaps go after them,” Bruce advises calmly, eyeing the situation at the bar critically. He does not look upset or even particularly bothered. This is just another shade of normal for them.

“Come with me,” Steve says, despite knowing the futility of it. “They’re listening to you.”

Bruce smiles softly. “I don’t think a bar fight is the right place for me. I’ll wait back here.” Something wicked in his tone, he adds, “And don’t worry, I’ve got a first-aid kit with me.”

With a curse, Steve hurries after his friends, wondering how this has become his life. Then again, it always has been. Before the serum, it was just usually him jumping at every opportunity to fight, Bucky right by his side. It might be hypocritical of him to blame others for doing the same, just because they are somewhat respectable people now.

From close up, the scene at the bar does not look any better. In fact, the drunk guy is a lot bigger than anticipated. Alcohol, a bad temper, and enough muscle mass to do damage even when hitting blindly is never a good combination. Especially considering how small Tony looks in comparison. Small but ready for anything this guy is going to throw at him.

“Hey, asshole,” Tony calls, not bothering to keep his voice down. “Wanna repeat that to my face?”

Heads turn towards them, waiting for something to happen. When the man looks at Tony, small eyes full of the pointless anger of the drunk, Steve wants to step forward and shield Tony, tuck him into his arms to keep him safe.

“Is there something wrong with your ears as well as your brain?” Tony taunts. His daring is enough to stop Steve in his tracks, ruining his chance of stopping this before the situation escalates.

The man is visibly confused that his drunken ramblings have been interrupted, but he recognizes Tony’s words easily as a provocation. He gets to his feet with slow, swaying movements, building himself up like a mountain in front of the bar. He appears bigger because Steve is worried about Tony’s wellbeing, but even so, he is a massive man.

“Captain America,” the man says with deliberate slowness, tasting the words like good scotch, “is a cunt.”

Someone laughs – it might have been Clint, judging on the crazed delight in the sound – but Steve has no time to wonder about it. In a blur of motion, Tony steps forward, sidesteps the man’s readily raised fist and lands a hit of his own, squarely in the man’s face. At the same time, he uses a trick Natasha taught him, entangling his feet with that of his opponent so all it needs is a small push to bring the man down.

He crashes to the floor with a loud thump, blinking in confusion at his sudden change of position. Tony stands over him, his expression one of remorseless righteousness.

“I think I didn’t hear you correctly,” Tony says, another provocation right there in his voice. “What did you say?”

Quickly, Steve steps forward to pull Tony back. He manages at least a few feet before Tony shrugs him off.

“Let me deal with this,” Tony hisses and turns back, not waiting for an answer.

Unhappily, Steve thinks there would be nothing to deal with if they had just ignored the mindless comments. That man is just one of thousands who must be saying the very same things at this very moment. Being a hero means being held to different standards than other people. Doing his best is not enough anymore. But that is all right. He will still continue doing so.

In front of them, the man gets up from the ground and wipes the blood from his nose. From the bar, four more guys come towards them. Of course, the drunk guy has to have friends. Steve is not exactly worried that any of them packs more of a punch than the first one, but with five of them, there is no way the other Avengers are going to stay out of this.

“All right,” Steve tries anyway, “this is enough.” He is used to making his voice carry over a battlefield, but he might as well have not bothered because no one pays him the slightest bit of attention. “I get that tempers are high, but that’s nothing a nice new round of beer can’t cure, yes?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees Natasha blink at him with pity plain visible on her face. That is how he knows his attempt at calming them all down has backfired before the drunk guys have even turned towards him.

“Look who it is,” their original opponent says, voice scathing. “Captain Spangled Pants himself. It’s nice of you to come by because we have something to tell you.”

Regarding their physique, Steve is a much better match for him than Tony, but Tony has never liked being pushed out of the limelight. “Oh no, you don’t,” he says, moving slightly in front of Steve as if he needs to protect him. “You were talking to me, remember? And I don’t think I’ve made my point yet.”

The man looks Tony up and down with the kind of dismissive leer that has an instinctive growl rising in Steve’s throat. No one looks at Tony like that and gets away with it.

“You think your money helps you hit less like a girl?” the man asks, clearly failing to see that it is not Tony’s money that makes him dangerous. A lot of people make that mistake.

“Says the guy who’s already bleeding.”

Tony grins the same, utterly delighted way he does right before a battle when the suit closes in around him. Steve almost expects Iron Man to materialize in front of them. Instead, Tony remains as he is, in his three-piece suit entirely made of cloth. No hidden lasers or rockets. Just him.

“Tony, stop,” Steve orders, reaching out to hold Tony back. “There’s five of them and we don’t need to ruin the evening.”

Shrugging, Tony looks as if this is exactly how he pictured the evening going. “They ruined the evening. And there’s five of us too.” He looks around and finds Bruce waving at them cheerfully from their table. “Well, six, because Tasha hits like three people put in one.”

“What about me?” Clint pouts, coming up on Tony’s other side. All of them are completely ignoring the danger building up in front of them.

“Well,” Tony drawls with a smirk, “your gymnastics will at least make us look good.”

“Are you done?” the drunk man asks, the kind of confused malice glinting in his eye that shows he is not sure what exactly is going on but he is trying to punch it better anyway.

“Yes,” Steve says firmly, “we’re done here. I hope you’ll have a nice –”

“Good,” the man says, and grins to show off his bloodstained teeth.

Everything dissolves into chaos then. The fight should have been over in seconds. The Avengers against some drunk idiots in a bar. What Steve has almost forgotten about these things is the thrill of it, the excitement of a fight that is not about life or death.

Steve sees Natasha pull her first punch and Clint making a complicated looking dance of flailing limbs around his opponent. They are not aiming to end this quickly. They are enjoying themselves.

Just when Steve decides that they are in for a hell of a lecture when they are all back at the tower and sober again, he almost gets hit in the face for all his trouble to stay back and appear non-threatening. Only his ingrained reflexes save him. The rest, as they say, is history.

Distantly, Steve realizes a crowd has gathered around them, cheering on either them or the drunk defenders of the public opinion. It does not matter. Laughter fills the air, accentuated by the groaning of men and the sickening sounds of flesh hitting flesh. It feels like they are fighting against more men than the original five now.

Steve lets his fists fly, half his mind busy with holding back his strength. That means he earns himself some punches, but it is not as if he is not used to bruises. The fight drags on. He sees Natasha grinning and Clint adding insults to each of his movements. He sees Tony dancing, moving with the grace of someone who was formally educated in the martial arts but has not been made to use them with deadly intent. The sight, Steve has to admit grudgingly, is very hot.

Then, though, he sees blood on Tony’s shirt, dripping down from a cut above his eye. That is enough to return Steve to his senses.

“Avengers,” he calls, realizing too late that announcing their identities might not be the smart move. Then again, this fight started purely because of who they are, and if there are still people in the crowd who do not know – well, news travels fast.

“Already, Cap?” Clint asks, obviously pouting as he sidesteps a punch to the stomach. In a blur of motion, he throws the attacker to the floor for his trouble, hard enough to knock him out.

“Yes,” Steve replies, not bothering to waste breath on explanations. If they started this fight to defend the honour of their leader, they might as well have the courtesy of following said leader’s orders. “This ends now.”

The fight is over within mere moments then, which has Steve mentally adding at least half an hour to his lecture about proper behaviour. Natasha takes down the two men advancing on her without even blinking. Not a single hair is out of place as she sidles up to him, expression bored again, now that the excitement is over.

The crowd around them disperses with some disappointment that their evening entertainment got cut short. At least no one is calling for their blood. Steve counts that as a win.

To the surprise of absolutely no one, it is Tony who does not fall in line. He is kneeling over the man who has started this all, twisting his arm up his back and hissing something in his ear.

“Tony.” Steve scowls as he hurries over. “Let go. The fight’s over.”

“It’s not,” Tony argues hotly, glancing up at Steve for only a short moment before fixing his attention back on the struggling man beneath him. “This asshole here hasn’t apologized yet.”

“Tony.” Steve aimed to sound sterner, but he cannot help the amusement rising up in his stomach. He distinctly remembers the conversation they had when they first started dating and Tony warned him not to get upset every time someone insulted Tony. He said something along the lines of it not being worth it to waste energy on idiots. Steve is sure now is not the time to remind Tony of just that.

In response, Tony applies just a bit more pressure on the guy’s arm, who simply groans in pain.

“Listen here,” he says slowly, “you better not badmouth my boyfriend ever again, because he’s a better person than you could ever be. He’s good, you hear me, and that did not come out of a bottle.”

Steve has to admit, warmth blossoms in his chest at the vehemence with which Tony talks about him. They are still making even more of a spectacle of themselves than they ever should, though. Fury will be, well, furious. More so than usual.

“Tony,” Steve tries again, voice firm, “let’s go.”

Stubbornly, Tony shakes his head. “He hasn’t –”

“I know,” Steve interrupts him gently, “he hasn’t apologized, but you’ve sufficiently defended my honour. Let Bruce have a look at that cut now.”

While it is still bleeding sluggishly, it is nothing to worry about. They deal with real injuries on a daily basis. Steve does not like to see Tony bleed, though, and it is as good as a distraction as anything.

“I don’t –”

Tired of arguing, Steve reaches out to loosen Tony’s grip on the downed man’s arm. Without further ado, he picks Tony up and carries him back to their table.

If he thought that being carried away like an errant child would put a damper on Tony’s petulance, Steve was very wrong. Instead of keeping his head down, Tony sticks out his tongue at the remaining people watching them, before he shifts his position to snuggle closer into Steve’s arms. Steve tightens his embrace instinctively.

“You’re really using any excuse to get me to hold you,” Tony mutters against Steve’s chest, sounding smug but still somewhat disbelieving. Steve cannot blame him. Waking up every morning next to Tony still seems like a dream to him too.

“You see right through me,” Steve answers as lightly as he can, even while his heart becomes even heavier with his growing love for Tony.

“Oi, lovebirds,” Clint calls, appearing right next to them, “we’re taking the party elsewhere.”

Before the mob decides that their heroes beating up some sad drunks in the middle of downtown New York is not something they can let stand so easily. Steve agrees completely. Still, he cranes his neck to look for Bruce.

“Tony’s bleeding.” The worry in his tone elicits smiles on each of his friends’ faces. It does not even matter that they are somewhat tinged with mocking.

“I’ll live,” Tony says dismissively, the way he always is when it comes to his own wounds. “Let’s just get out of here.”

The cool night air is refreshing but makes their blossoming bruises sting. Instead of shame, though, it puts a new, exhilarating spin on their evening. Steve is not irresponsible enough to admit that he might have had some fun, but the lightness of his step is telling in itself.

They have made it two blocks when Clint turns towards Steve and Tony with an incredulous expression.

“Are you really going to make Steve carry you all the way, Stark?” he asks, then pulls his lips into a smirk. “Didn’t think you’d be a sissy because of a little blood.”

Steve half expects Tony to tense in his arms. While he is not exactly shy with publicly showing affection, he does not like to be called out on it, almost like it is something shameful.

Instead, Tony makes a show of getting more comfortable in Steve’s arms. “The cut has nothing to do with it, thank you very much,” he says, full of smugness. ”You’re just jealous no one’s carrying you.”

Clint’s face sours, but when he glances at Natasha in an obvious attempt to persuade her to give it a go, she glares at him so frightfully that he instinctively steps closer to Bruce.

“Not in this form,” Bruce declines immediately, then adds hastily, “Not happening,” anticipating that Clint is going to propose bringing out the Hulk just to one-up Steve and Tony. As if anyone could.

“Aw, does no one want to take the little birdie flying?” Tony mocks, feeling safe enough in Steve’s arms to tease someone who could impale him with a random stick found on the street from a whole block away.

“Next time,” Clint announces in a put-out tone, “I’m not going to save your ass when you anger a whole pub full of Cap antis.”

“As if you would sit out a fight,” Tony replies immediately. True enough, no one who saw him in that bar would believe that even for a second.

The adrenaline of the fight making him reckless, Steve adds, “I’m disappointed to hear that you wouldn’t defend my honour.” He does not want to encourage a repeat of this behaviour, but the looks on his friends’ faces are worth it.

Then, quickly, Clint’s expression sobers. “You sound pissed,” he says, sounding wary. “Let me guess, you already have a lecture prepared for us when we get home?”

Steve nods cheerfully, not bothering to hide his grin at his team’s groans. They really should know better.

“You’re not going to lecture me, are you?” Tony asks quietly, his breath hot on Steve’s ear.

Steve knows exactly what Tony is trying to do. It is working, of course, but Steve has a long memory.

“Especially you,” he responds, voice dipping low. “All night long.” He captures Tony’s lips in a kiss, tasting of copper and home. The combination is making him heady.

Eyes slightly glassy, Tony looks up at him. Steve can feel his heartbeat picking up.

“Let’s get home, losers,” Tony calls, never looking away from Steve. “I’m very much looking forward to the after-lecture program.”

Clint groans while Bruce chuckles to himself. Natasha just looks at them approvingly. Despite the completely unnecessary escalation of their night out, Steve is happy with where he is. Among family. Loved.

[writeyouin]

Swerve X Reader – A Human Crewmate - Chapter 10 - Part 1

Christmas Cheer Part 1

A/N – Based on a lot of head-canons from @rocksinmuffin and @straightouttacybertron so extra special thanks to them for that. I was gonna make you wait longer but Happy Holidays my friends. Dedicated to @millebellete for the epic new icon.

Warnings – NSFW/RATED M UNDER THE “KEEP READING” CUT.

Rating – T

You slumped in a beanbag despondently. You’d only been awake for around twenty minutes and the day already sucked. Before you could contemplate your depressing scenario further, the hab-suite door opened to Swerve who peered around cautiously to check if you were even awake yet; he was always careful not to wake you up.

“Hey (Y/N),” he greeted jovially.

“Hey,” You mumbled.

Swerve frowned, “What’s wrong?”

You got up, shaking your head and throwing out a quick, imitation smile that paled in comparison to the real thing, “Nothing, I’m fine.”

“Come on, slumped shoulders, low mood, something’s up. Is it that shark week thing you warned me about?” He sounded vaguely panicked, though he wasn’t actually sure what you meant by shark week.

“No, nothing like that, I just… Something I found out.”

“Let’s hear it, or do I have to talk your ears off first because I will, you know I will.”

“Alright, alright, it’s um… My datapad shows the date back on Earth… it’s getting close to Christmas. Christmas is kind of a big deal back on Earth, y’know? I’ve never not… I’m gonna miss it is all.”

“(Y/N),” Swerve murmured, lost for words at the hurt on your face; he couldn’t imagine the pain you were feeling. You couldn’t go home and nobody else on the ship knew Earth holidays like he did, not to mention it was a time spent with family and friends who you’d also lost.

“Forget it,” You said glumly. “I’ll see you later, I think I need a walk… on my own.”

Swerve didn’t stop you from leaving. He couldn’t, not when a bright idea was firing through his processor. He couldn’t fix the Earth problem, but he could distract you from it; the whole ship could distract you.

Little over an hour later, even in your quiet nook of the ship, the Rodimus gong rang loudly through the halls; it didn’t need the PA for that.

“Attention everybody,” Rodimus chimed over the speaker. “In honour of our resident human, I would like to announce the Lost Light’s first HOLIDAY EXTRAVAGANZA.”

You stared, slack jawed at the speaker, did he mean what you thought he meant?

Muffled echoes came over the speaker, “Why aren’t they cheering? They’re supposed to be cheering.” Rodimus cleared his vocaliser and continued, “Since you obviously don’t know what it means, we’re celebrating the Earth holiday of Christmas… what do you mean Hanukkah? Does she celebrate that too? What do you mean you don’t know? Fine, whatever. Christmas and Hanukkah. Ultra Magnus has prepared… ugh, pamphlets on the subject because he managed to ruin holidays too but please, take the time to learn all you can about what I’m told is ‘the most wonderful time of the year.’”

Rodimus heaved a loud sigh at the lack of enthusiasm, “Alright, fine, it’s a big chance to party and get overcharged…. Sure, now they cheer. Rodimus out.”

The speakers fell silent once more and you sat lost for words in the corridor you’d been hiding in. Your new communicator rang with the Friends theme tune which was reserved for Swerve.

You answered it dazed, “Swerve?”

“(Y/N), did you hear the announcement? What do you think? I asked Rodimus this morning and he was totally on board with it. We can decorate the bar, and set up a movie night, and teach everyone the songs, and-”

“It’s wonderful Swerve, you’re the best, thank you,” You were glad he couldn’t see you crying, even if they were happy tears.

“No problem (Y/N), really.”

“What’d Maggie and Megs say?”

“Ultra Magnus got weird and mumbled something about Verity, whatever that is, then he took off and said he had to decorate and told me not to get into trouble. Megatron couldn’t get a word in over Rodimus.”

You sniffed back more tears.

“(Y/N)? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” You wiped your face with the back of your hand, “meet you at the bar?”

“Can’t wait.”

“So, what’re we thinking?” Swerve asked, standing next to you in the bar; for once, with the lack of bots, you could stand on the floor with him.

You framed the corner of the room with your hands, holding them out, “What about a huge tree over there? Wait, do we even have a tree… or any decorations for that matter?”

Swerve sputtered, faking offense, “Pfft, do we have decorations. What kind of cave dwelling cretin do you take me for? I mean, you may as well ask if the sky has a moon or-”

“So, we do have decorations?”

“Well, maybe not here but we’ll get some soon, right after you decide what we need.”

“Alright soldier, are you willing to follow orders and commandeer any supplies we need?!”

Swerve saluted, “SIR, YES SIR!”

“AND ARE YOU WILLING TO WAGE WAR ON ANYONE WHO STANDS IN YOUR WAY!”

“SIR, YES SIR!”

“EVEN IF IT MEANS INFILTRATING THE ENEMY CAMP!”

“SIR, YES SIR!”

“THEN BEGIN SOLDIER, TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK WE NEED.”

“START WITH A WREATH.”

“GOOD, AND?”

“LIGHTS THAT TWINKLE?”

“AND?”

“A SKELETON?”

“YES- Wait, a skeleton? Why a skeleton?”

Swerve held his hands up, “Sorry, I was thinking of Halloween, got excited.”

You grinned, “Fair enough, I’m honestly impressed you got that far, I was hoping you’d screw up sooner.”

Swerve bumped into you playfully, you returned the gesture, laughing as you did so.

“Now,” You commanded, “logistics. I think we’re going to need some help on this one. You got anyone in mind?”

“Tailgate would be good, maybe Chromedome and Rewind, Nautica.”

“Who’s Nautica?”

“Oh right, you two haven’t met yet but she’s awesome and-”

“She? There’s another she on the ship and you didn’t tell me? Go, go get her, I must meet this other she, go.”

You pushed against him, making no difference at all, “Okay, I’m going. I suppose I should bring Velocity back here too if you’re going to meet all the she’s on the ship.”

“Yes,” You squealed, clapping your hands together. “Oh, and bring Rung too.”

“Ring? Why Rang?”

“I swear, you all do the name thing on purpose. Rung has to come because he’ll be happy to be invited, be considerate and invite him before I’m forced to kick your can.”

“Riiight, because you did so good moving me just then.”

“I swear, I could actually destroy you. I’m barely keeping my dangerous animal ferocity contained right now. Us flesh sticks are monstrous, have you never seen Freddy Kreuger or Jason?”

“Frag, if you’re as dangerous as those two, I should run. I’ll leave you to the logistics while I gather the team.”

You saluted once more, and Swerve was out the door, practically bubbling over with excitement.

Boosting yourself up, you sat on one of the barstools, writing a list of what you needed on your datapad.

“Ten!” A mechanical voice gargled.

You squealed, almost falling off your seat, then turned to face the very mech who’d scared you. You’d met Ten before briefly. As far as you knew from the others on the ship, he wasn’t very intelligent, and he served as hired muscle to Swerve.

“Ah, hey Ten. How’re you doing?”

“Ten.”

“Hodor.”

“Ten?”

“Groot?”

“Ten?”

“You’re a mech of many words… Want to keep me company while I plan?”

“TEN!” He threw himself on the stool next to yours enthusiastically.

“Great, first I was thinking a wreath at the door with a red bow. Green and red are the colours of Christmas.” You showed him some pictures on your datapad.

Ten tilted his head, examined the picture, and opened a storage space in his chest panel. He pulled out some pieces of flat silver metal, folding them expertly. It soon became clear that he was making a wreath of his own, albeit devoid of colour.

“Ten, that’s incredible!” You praised as he made a bow with the metal.

“Ten!” He smiled.

“You know, whichever idiot said the thingy about the Ambus test needs their head checked; you’re way smarter than any dumb old test.”

When Swerve came back with the party, minus Nautica who was busy, Ten had piled decoration upon decoration on top of the surrounding tables, each waiting to be placed around the room.

“Whoa…” Swerve marvelled, “What happened here?”

“Ten’s a crafting genius.”

Nautica pushed past everyone to meet you, “Tell me something I don’t know. Hi, I’m Nautica, it used to be Nautical but that didn’t sound right and I babble when I’m excited. You’re a human!”

“And you’re female!”

The two of you squealed excitedly before regaining composure and shaking hands, though Nautica started inspecting your hand, turning it over in hers and making observations.

“What are the lines on your arms?”

“Veins and arteries, they carry blood to and from my heart.”

“Incredible.”

“Right?”

“What else does your body do?”

“Loads of stuff, it can-”

“(Y/N)!” Rewind called impatiently. “Christmas stuff.”

“Right, okay.” The bots gathered around you waiting for what you had to say. You held up your datapad again, showing various images of what each item should look like. “As you can see, Ten has made just about everything we need but silver is so boring on its own. What I need all of you for is a painting spree. Ten, Chromedome, Nautica, you’re the tallest, so you’re on tree painting duty and decoration hanging when that’s done. Rewind, the tinsel really needs to sparkle. Rung, Tailgate, you’re painting the baubles and banners. Swerve, you’re on snowflakes, and I’ll get anything else. Everyone okay with that?”

Everyone agreed enthusiastically and began their duties. Rung proved invaluable, painting over the base coats of the decorations with incredible detail due to his time spent on model ships. With three people working on the tree, it was done in no time, leaving them free to join the hubbub of the decorations table. Swerve was sprinkling liberal amounts of glitter in your hair, claiming you were the angel for the top of the tree. While you laughed hysterically, Rewind filmed, saying he was making a Christmas documentary and asking you every question he could think of on the subject. You started from the beginning, telling any and all traditions that came to your head along the way.

“What’s that? Is it a mini tree?” Rewind zoomed in on the decoration you were painting.

“This is mistletoe, you hang it from the ceiling then when two people step under it, no matter who they are, they have to kiss.”

Chromedome looked lovingly at Rewind; it was a look of so pure and strong that you felt lucky simply to witness it.

Tailgate grabbed the unfinished mistletoe from you, holding it above his head jokingly when you came to get it. “So, like this?”

“Oh, that’s how it’s gonna be is it?” You giggled. “Very funny.” You kissed his faceplate and grabbed the mistletoe back from him with a rocket boot thrust. “Keep playing like that and I won’t give you one for your hab-suite which would be a real shame; think of Cyclonus, all handsome under the mistletoe.”

Tailgate practically glowed at the comment; he was clearly wondering whether Cyclonus would humour him in such an odd tradition. The conversation flowed on as the bar was decorated beautifully. While everything had been made of metal, it served to give the decorations a unique Lost Light look. Swerve kept a box of leftover decorations to use in the hab-suite where the two of you headed after everyone parted ways, babbling excitedly about anything that came to mind.

“I was thinking,” Swerve said, hanging around your kitchen nook while you prepared a Christmas film on the other side of the room, “we should create a Christmas tradition for the Lost Light.”

“Got anything in mind?” You asked, absentmindedly.

“How about naming some new energon cocktails? We could make them seasonal specials, like that eggnog stuff I’ve heard about.”

“So, stuff like, Red Nosed Retro Energon.”

“Yeah, and Santa’s Sleigh-er.”

“Elf-ergon.”

“Jingle Juice.”

“You know, you should really write these down before we forget them.”

“Don’t worry, I remember everything you say.”

You turned around to face him, raising a curious eyebrow, “Pardon?”

Swerve tapped his helm, “G-great memory.”

“Oh, then can you get your great memory over to the berth, so we can start the film?”

For film nights, Swerve always moved the berth into the middle of the room where he’d lay on one side and you’d get the other since he didn’t fill it even when laid out. You’d already prepared a small mountain of pillows to make the hard metal comfy as usual and were awaiting him to start the selected film.

“Here,” Swerve held out a steaming mug of hot chocolate he’d prepared in your tiny kitchen; manoeuvring the small items was much more of a struggle than he’d guessed, and he’d made more of a mess than he cared to admit but the result was there and for that he was proud.

You blinked back surprise, “Thank you.”

“No prob Bob. What’re we watching?”

“Love Actually. It’s the absolute best Christmas film ever, if you can hack the sad parts.”

Swerve’s vocaliser crackled and his cooling fans span quietly, a film called Love Actually was sure to be a romance; it would be the first romance the two of you had watched alone. Were you trying to tell him something or was he imagining things again?

As Swerve laid comfortably on the berth, you started the film and took a sip of the hot chocolate.

“How is it?” he asked hopefully.

You struggled to swallow the thick gloop that was congealing in your mouth. “Like cement,” You garbled.

At the despair on Swerve’s face, you burst into laughter, ungracefully spraying remnants of hot chocolate which brought Swerve into your gales of laughter. You cleaned yourself up and settled into the film. Swerve sat, enchanted with the film until you got up and laid on top of him.

“Wh-Wh-” he tried to speak but couldn’t.

“I love this part,” You said enamoured, getting comfortable on his warm frame. Your head rested against his spark casing and your legs were curled up, limiting you to his chest panel.

While Swerve’s mind reeled, you thought nothing of the small action; it was something you did to friends and family on Earth constantly. Your leg stretched out, accidentally gliding over his interface panel. Swerve threw himself up at the sensitive touch, knocking you to the floor underneath the berth.

“Ow! Swerve, what the hell?”

“(Y/N)! Are you okay?” He’d gotten over the initial shock and was now concerned for your safety; it was at least a four-foot fall.

“Yeah, I landed on the pillows you threw. What happened?”

“I uh- I got scared.” The sentence wasn’t entirely a lie, feeling the pressure of your foot against his interface panel was terrifying; did you even know how much you were torturing him?

“You got scared?”

“Y-yes.”

“Of a child playing the drums?”

“Yes? I mean, w-what if the girl rejects him? After a-all he’s done, it’s too scary to t-think about.”

“Right… Well, if you’re okay to continue, I promise it works out okay for him.”

“Y-yeah, we can continue.”

Swerve didn’t know whether to be relieved or hate himself when you took your usual place on the other side of the berth. He was either a genius for resolving the situation or the galaxy’s biggest idiot for ruining what could have felt wonderful, even if you had no idea what you were doing.

Swerve was restless. He’d made up the excuse that he needed to recharge when you went to bed because he couldn’t face anyone the way he was feeling; too much would come spilling out concerning you. Now, he hated himself for lying because the dull throb of his interface array was almost painful. You’d pressed against the containing panel; you’d started this, yet you got to sleep without a care or trouble in the world.

Yes… You were asleep. The realisation hit him hard. He’d pleasured himself to thoughts of you more than once before. He’d also promised himself that he wouldn’t do so again now that you lived together. Then again, what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt… him.

Swerve’s interface panel opened seemingly of its own accord. He gritted his dentae together, slowly angling his head to see you, all wrapped up in blankets; the small sound hadn’t bothered you, you didn’t even stir.

Swerve grabbed hold of his already pressurised spike, pumping at it quietly, sensually. He shouldn’t be doing this. Seeing you asleep in a cute poodle tank top should have made him feel worse, he should be guilty watching you and sure a part of him was; a miniscule part which went easily ignored. The rest was more aroused; you were right there, in front of him.

He shut off his vocaliser seconds before a loud moan erupted; going this slow was torture as much as pleasure. As he rubbed his spike with one servo, he used the other to circle around his valve, finally inserting only one digit in; it was his smallest digit and the closest he had to imitating you.

If you only opened one eye, you’d see him in all his disgrace. You’d probably be disgusted, maybe even hate him. Instead, you were stuck in a deep slumber, oblivious to what was happening only feet away.

Before sharing a hab-suite with you, Swerve masturbated to various fantasies varying from fucking you over his bar, to being tied up while you dominated him; each scenario was wilder than the last and he could still see your underwear around your ankles as if it had been real.

Now however, he couldn’t see you as some exotic fantasy; not this time. You weren’t screaming his name. He wasn’t using toys on you or making you use them on yourself. He wasn’t imagining whether you could take the full length of his spike. No, this fantasy was different… tamer. In it, you were cuddled up on his lap, while the two of you told each other future hopes and dreams. It wasn’t a fantasy of lust but of love. Swerve couldn’t fully comprehend his feelings for you as his cooling fans blasted and an upcoming overload jumbled his thoughts but as he jerked off into the final stages of an overload, he loved you.

Looking down at the mess of trans-fluid covering him, Swerve wasn’t concerned with cleaning up the mess or making his cooling fans quiet down. He was even more aroused than before; he’d done it and you hadn’t woke up. He had to do it again.

[judelaw]

incomplete list of reasons to love Jude Law by yours truly

(that nobody asked for and that got really long ‘cause I have no self-control and just really love this dork) (updated kinda unregularly but steadily) (also I can provide sources for like 95% of these, so if you have a specific question, feel free to ask me)

charity:

jude does an awful lot for charity but my favorite things include:

he got invited by Peace One Day to say a few words into a camera and felt that wasn’t enough so he spontanously joined their trip to Afghanistan, helping shooting a documentary and played a significant role in establishing peace for a day, to get  vaccination and food to especially children, who usually cannot get reached by charities due to the danger of the war zone

he also became an active ambassador for Peace One Day back then and still now, 10+ years later, takes this role very seriously

jude spoke up against the dictatorship of belarus, defending the freedom of speech and of the press, leading to all of his films being banned there

he urged the british government to let refugee children in and personally visited the refugee camp ‘jungle’ several times for weeks to bring the media’s attention to it  

he wrote a letter to the WTO urging them to keep protecting baby seals when the EU thought about giving up the import ban for their fur

he also participated in a project where you pay for the house of someone in an african country and as a reward get shown around the neighbourhood by the person you helped, however the teacher of a near by school heard Jude Law would come to visit the city so she asked him if he would be so kind to make an acting course for the children which he immediately said yes to

jokingly got asked by a woman/fan he just met if he could sponsor her in a charity run and he immediately said yes

when he was working with aspiring actors and directors, who were all children/teenagers for a charity event, he informed himself about their previous and current projects beforehand to be able to talk with them about it and encourage them futher

when he found out about a teenager making a small documentary about freedom of speech, he immediately called him personally and offered an interview with him, making the guy’s life (and film)

he plays an active role in providing free theater tickets to children in Lewisham, London, which is rather poor part of London in which he was born and grew up with, to help less fortunate kids to be able to experience art as well

generally speaking he thinks it’s important to use fame to get the media’s attention to important issues and help to fix them

not exactly a charity thing but he is really polite and helps people a lot, e.g. he once stopped giving autographs to fans to carry heavy boxes for a struggling elderly woman nearby only to come back to the fans once he was finished helping her 

he is such a family man:

it felt completely natural for him to settle down at the age of 19 with a woman who is seven years older than him and already had a four year old child

he bought a lot of his sister’s paintings and hung them up at home because he loves and supports her

he often takes his mum and/or dad with him to events

said nothing makes more a man out of you than when your will gets broken by your 1-year-old daughter

when he is driving alone, he always turns on the radio channel his kids always listen to because it reminds him of them and makes him feel like home

he made his agent angry with him because he turned down Hollywood blockbusters early in his career to have more time for his family

he spends as much time with his family as possible

even when he is in another country, he makes sure they can either fly to visit him or he can fly back home as much as he/they wants/want

generally he just loves the domestic life and being surrounded by his kids, having to cook for them, getting them to school etc

he also really loves cuddling them but respects if they don’t want to

he is (by far) the strict parent because it’s incredibly important for him that his kids have good manners and are polite

still makes sure they know how much he loves them and that they can always count on him if they need his help

missed out one of AGOS press conferences because his 10 y/o son had a local football match and that simply was more important to him

and a goddamn nerd:

he named his first daughter after his favorite author

and is a comic book nerd in general

when he got gifted a copy of the complete peanuts for his kids, he decided to keep it for himself because he really really loves the peanuts

he also has/had a snoopy jacket

and bought a dog sculpture called snoopy

at a young age he already had an ridiculous amount of knowledge about films from the 20s

he got a fandom tattoo at the age of 18

and loves childrens literature

is a huge fan of cartoons and kids films as well

always loved shakespeare, even as a child in school, because the language he used felt natural to him

he once kept his favorite poem first on his fridge and then above his bed

his work ethics and the way he behaves on set are beautiful:

bothers to learn the names of everyone on a film set and is totally willing to listen to them if they want to talk to him

is generally always described as warm and welcoming towards anyone

randomly takes film crew members out for dinner

he was very parental towards the kids in The Holiday, “pop his head round the door when [they] were doing [their] schooling”, chatted with their dad etc.

he and Cameron also made the effort to get the personalized denim jackets made with inscriptions of their names and “The Holiday” and “Hollywood 2006,” once the shooting was over and gave them to the girls personally

he always wanted to be known for his acting not his looks

when shooting the film wilde (1997), stephen fry was afraid his co-stars would feel uncomfortable during sex scenes with him, so jude and the two other actors made sure fry felt comfortable and was at ease

he is always hard working

and does tons of research for his roles and even writes entire essays about his characters

to play Albus Dumbledore, he watched footage of Picasso painting as he wanted to observe the brush movements to get a a good feeling about how to use a wand

jude is always looking for a new challenge acting-wise

and really nervous about his skills everytime he is at a new set so to distract himself he simply talks to everyone

he always panics at first when joining a new project but eventually calms himself down and reminds himself to just do his best

even when he was one of the best paid actors in the world, he still worked on films with smaller budgets that would have never been able to pay him the amount he could demand, because he always cared more about working on projects he cares about than making the most money out of it

other random facts about him that are just adorable:

he pretty much ha sno tolerance for toxic masculinity

jude often spends the weekend on the couch reading and falling asleep a lot

he reads an awful lot in general and often gives book recommendations in interviews (you can find a list of his recommendations here!)

he writes and paints in his freetime

his superpowers in real life are being patient, really good at making chocolate cakes and able to fall asleep anywhere

jude really loves food too (from pretty much every country)

he uses his natural charm to make the people surrounding him feel secure

and often pulls faces in pictures

he is currently trying to learn how to play the piano

and thinks it’s important to be able to laugh about oneself (especially as an actor) and does so a lot

so when he became sexiest man alive, his friends gave him toilet seat with his picture printed on and he kept it

but he always tries to hide his face when he gets embarrassed

he supports equal rights for everyone and is really open-minded in general

jude is interested in fashion but also keeps wearing the same things for like a decade 

he hates people who just throw their litter on the ground because that’s “disrespectful”

and just mean people in general

he is really really warm and soft

he thinks it’s important not only for little girls but also little boys to grow up with films like Captain Marvel so they all learn women in positions of power are right

jude is always up to date when it comes to things that matter like politics and theater but has absolutely no clue about internet/social media culture

he gets really along with children in general

he said romance means an awful lot to him

he has a huge crush is Judi Dench

he is really into spicy found so he pretty much carries a bottle of tabasco with him everywhere to be able to flavour the food he orders like he wants to, instead of bothering the cook about it

he even takes one with him on planes

when asked what he thinks about Caitlyn Jenner changing her sex he said he doesn’t know what to say other than ‘good on everyone’ (after he talked about how he basically lives under a rock and had no idea who she was)

he always has to picture the cardinal directions in order to remember them

and often tries out new things while cooking

jude doesn’t give a damn about what’s considered “manly”

and hates the word ‘bromance’

he is a really passionate person

his voice sometimes breaks when he is laughing

and he uses his entire body while laughing

he respects other cultures and is always happy to try something new

he always stands up when a woman enters the room

jude is incredibly positive and loving

when asked if the world is ready for a gay children’s icon (Dumbledore), he said he thinks it’s ready and that if it isn’t it “bloody well should be”

he never excuses his mistakes or runs away from them but instead admits he fucked up, apologizes and tries to make up for them

his excitement and enthusiasm is really childlike

when an interviewer tried to be funny and asked who he is, he thought he really just didn’t know and replied politely with his name and offered him his hand because he is just such an humble idiot

he once got asked if women need to wear high heels to be attractive (in his opinion), he said that every woman is attractive when she is herself so it really doesn’t matter what she is wearing

when he had to choose a winner in a cooking contest, he felt so bad for the losers, he had to hug them

TL;DR: Jude is a fucking gem, protect him.