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humbledragon669 · 9 months ago

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S2E1 - The Arrival Write Up P5 - the Present Day from Crowley’s arrival at the coffee shop up to his entry to the book shop

Alright, buckle up, because despite the fact I said I wasn’t going to be so detailed, there is A LOT to cover in these next couple of scenes, and it is ALL about the subtext.

The first thing I picked up on is mere seconds after Crowley gets out of the Bentley, because despite the fact that Aziraphale told him to meet him in the coffee shop (literally 2 minutes previously, if we’re to believe the demon’s time estimates), his reflex is to go straight to the book shop as soon as he’s out of the car:

That is one hard-wired reflex, isn’t it? He’s several steps into his approach before he realises that’s not where he’s supposed to be going. Cute. Not so cute is the foreshadowing that we can see on the board outside the coffee shop:

It’s not easy to make out in this little screenshot, but it reads “Life begins after coffee”. Knowing how intricately designed this series is with the Easter eggs and references, I can’t help but believe this is alludes to what is planned to come in season 3 (after Aziraphale’s coffee). That’s the simple solution. The letters in this simple phrase can actually be rearranged into something else however:

L I F E B E G I N S A F T E R C O F F E E

===============================

I F C E E F O R G E T S I N E F F A B L E

Obviously I would interpret “CEE” as Crowley in this potential Clue, and the reference to “ineffable” being the Ineffable Plan. So expanding the phrase becomes “If Crowley forgets the Ineffable Plan”. But that would mean that the demon either currently knows or has previously known the details of the Ineffable Plan, which is in theory impossible (unless he was also God). And what’s the rest of the sentence? What happens if Crowley’s memory does empty of those details? I don’t have any answers to these questions, all I know is that the ability to rearrange those letters into something that makes incredible contextual sense cannot be coincidental.

This next scene in the coffee shop is one of my absolute favourites across this show - there’s just so much to it! Before we get into the weeds with the conversation that’s about to ensue, I just want to pick up on the background music being used here: it’s an instrumental version of Bohemian Rhapsody, possibly for a string quartet. In the write up for episode 5 of season 1, I hinted that there might be something to look at about music when it’s used as an “in-universe” element (rather than when it’s used as soundtrack for the audience), and this is a great example of that. We know that pretty much all music that plays in the Bentley (at least when Crowley is driving it) is by Queen, whether that was the original choice of the passengers in the car or not. That combined with Queen’s music being frequently used in the soundtrack to represent Crowley means that we, the audience, have come to associate anything that sounds remotely like Queen with the demon. Likewise, we have been given a lot of information to suggest that the same applies to classical music being associated with Aziraphale. What we have in the background of the coffee shop in this scene is an example of the merging of the two very different styles to produce a rather beautiful result, where both styles can be recognised and heard, whilst also projecting an air of individuality of its own. Here’s why I think this is interesting – this is exactly how we’ve come to think of the relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale. Furthermore, the fact that the music is playing in-universe here would suggest, if my badly formed (and yet to be written up) ideas about Crowley are correct, that its presence is the demon’s (possibly subconscious) doing in the first place.

One last thing before I start looking at the conversation: How gorgeous is that camera one-shot as it passes “through” the coffee shop window? We see quite a few of those types of shots in this show, and they’re always seamless. The benefit they add to the flow of the storyline is undeniable.

OK, I lied. This really is the last thing before I get to the conversation. I am not ignoring the fact that the walls in the coffee shop could be littered with Easter eggs in amongst all the “graffiti” there. I have been collecting screenshots of the walls in the scenes when I can, and will put together a collage of them at some point. I’ve yet to find anything of particular interest, but I also feel like somebody has already done quite a bit of research into this, so I’ll see if I can find that post before I talk about it any further.

Alright, finally – our hero couple are united in the present day for the first time in this season! Here’s our first reminder of the familiarity that exists between them:

Aziraphale looks over his left shoulder to see if Crowley has appeared yet because that’s “Crowley’s side”. He actually seems to get quite the fright when he suddenly detects a presence on the opposite side of him.

I love the insight we get from Crowley reeling off the reasons that Aziraphale calls him: finding out that the angel instinctively calls the demon to satisfy his need for intellectual engagement (when he’s bored), for approval, or for help when he needs it highlights just how intricately woven into one another’s lives they are. I think it’s the middle of those points that strikes the biggest chord with me though; that the only person Aziraphale wants to share his successes with is Crowley speaks volumes, and it’s the only one of the three points he feels any need to defend (which in turn tells us how highly he thinks of Crowley). The familiarity that comes out of this speech just oozes, and I absolutely love how casually the demon delivers it.

Here we have the start of the next part of the case for my “Aziraphale and Crowley are already together” theory. Notice how the angel asks Crowley if this mega-espresso has calming properties:

AZIRAPHALE: Does it calm you down?

Not does it calm people down. Specifically “you”, which in this case is Crowley. Aziraphale knows that what he’s about to tell Crowley is not going to go down well, and wants to make sure the demon is as calm as possible, which he recruits Nina in to help with:

AZIRAPHALE: What do you sell that calms people down?

Again, the words here give the game away; he doesn’t ask what would calm “him” down, but what item would be particularly useful for calming other people down. Those Eccles cakes aren’t for him, they’re for Crowley. And why on earth Nina says that these calm people down, I have no idea – I’ve certainly never heard of them as having particularly restful qualities. You would have thought that maybe a chamomile tea would be a better solution.

If we combine all of this information with THAT look from Crowley and THOSE looks from Aziraphale (you know the ones, but I’m going to GIF them below anyway – I do love it so), I think the case for believing this pair to be secretly romantically involved already looks pretty strong.

There is a LOT going on in that tiny snippet of film so let’s break it down a bit. First we have this look of dread from Aziraphale when Nina drops him in the shit:

That is guilt, embarrassment, fear, desperation, and chagrin all wrapped up in one right there, and there’s really only one thing that tends to bring that complex mix of emotions to the fore in people – getting caught doing something you know very well you shouldn’t have been doing in the first place. And Crowley’s reaction tells us everything we need to know about how he feels about this new and shocking piece of information:

There is one phrase that comes to mind when I see Crowley’s expression here: “EXPLAIN YOURSELF”. That little head tilt at the end says that loud and clear. Most importantly for my case, there is no amusement on his face at all. He’s not entertained by this rather amusing turn of events, he’s fuming, as his expression makes very obvious.

And Aziraphale knows very well how much trouble he’s now in:

The wide eyes, increased breathing, inability to get his words out, and pathetic protestations – he is floundering here, badly. As well he should.

There are two more indicators here that there is something more going on between the two of them that is being overtly stated at this point in the storyline. Firstly, there’s that look he flicks over to Crowley to check in with him and see where the demon is in the emotional journey. Secondly there’s the appropriate look of somebody absolutely cowed by a sequence of events:

Bless his little cotton socks, he’s so ashamed. It’s such a childlike expression, exactly what you’d see if somebody had been reprimanded for something they knew they shouldn’t have done, didn’t have any good explanation for why they’d done it, and can only say how sorry they are in their own defence. Lastly (for this exchange anyway), we can see that Crowley is still awaiting his explanation at this point, even if we (very sadly) don’t get to see his expression:

Out of focus as Crowley’s face is, it’s still clear to see that his gaze is firmly fixed on Aziraphale. His attention is only diverted when Nina asks him a direct question. So, to sum all of this up: Aziraphale’s shame and desperation and Crowley’s indignant expression – that’s really all it took for me. This pair are a couple at the very least, more likely married. End of. Case closed. However, if you’re still on the fence, there’s one other thing that might push you over the edge. Listen, VERY CLOSELY, to the music in the background here:

Just after Nina says the phrase “naked man friend”, you can hear a very high-pitched note in the string arrangement, followed by a small pause. Almost like the music has crashed to a halt with the shock of the information that’s just been given (I’m sure you know what I mean – it’s a pretty common device to use in media). If that’s not a coincidence, that would further strengthen my ideas about Crowley influencing the music around him, and provide some more evidence for how he’s feeling at that particular time.

Right, let’s move on to the next piece of evidence for my case:

This is so lovely to me. How could he possibly sum up what he and Crowley are in one tiny sentence? Not only that, it’s clear he doesn’t know how to describe the situation between them without lying. He could have said they were friends (not entirely a lie, not entirely the truth), or even work colleagues (ditto). Instead, he says the only thing he can think of that is definitely true. And as a quick side note, both he and Crowley are so focussed on the mess that the angel has found himself in here, they miss the quick once over Nina gives the demon as she leaves the table.

There’s something really primal in me that makes me want to pull her hair and scream at her to stay away from him, like a crazed jealous teenager. I have no idea why; we all know Crowley has absolutely no interest in anybody or anything other than Aziraphale. Besides, he’s fair too concerned with reminding Aziraphale that he’s still in trouble.

Whoop, more evidence to add to my case! This is so beautifully done – Crowley changes the subject, thinking to lull the angel into a false sense of security, only to bring it immediately back to the issue that he clearly feels still needs to be resolved (and rightly so), and his expression clearly tells Aziraphale that this conversation is far from over, that he’s still not amused, and that he’s still waiting for an explanation:

Now that Aziraphale hasn’t got someone watching on, he’s become a little bit braver, actually managing to speak some of his defence, but I think it’s pretty obvious he knows there isn’t going to be anything he can say or do in the coffee shop that will resolve this situation. And if there was any doubt about that, Crowley’s gesture after downing his mega-espresso (which I find almost threatening) is clearly meant to be a reminder that he is still pissed about things.

Message received loud and clear:

In another casual display of intimate familiarity, and despite Crowley’s clear displeasure with the situation, he still holds the door open for his angel (ever the romantic). There is something going on in this shot here that I find interesting though:

What is that look going on between Nina and Crowley? This is an odd one, not least because of that once over we saw her giving him earlier on. And unfortunately we can’t see his face in this shot to be any degree of sure. To me it feels almost territorial, in a reverse sort of way – as if Crowley is making sure Nina bears witness to his romantic gesture, delivering a subtle but clear message about his interests. I’d buy into that totally if it didn’t run completely contrary to the need for them to hide their relationship. What I do like about this little interaction, and Aziraphale’s behaviour during it, is that we’re already being shown that this pair are still really bad at picking up on the other’s cues – whilst Crowley is busy pissing on a lamp post, Aziraphale’s face is giving away just how worried he is about what’s about to come:

Alright, final thing of note for this part, because this seems like quite a neat place to stop. Remember way back when I said that those Eccles cakes weren’t really for Aziraphale, but for Crowley? (Side note - way to go, stealing crockery from a local coffee shop Aziraphale, I hope you took it back at some point. Not that Nina seems to give much of a shit. Such odd behaviour.) Well we’re about to see the realisation of that.

Alright, I know, it could just be that Aziraphale hands the plate to him so that he has both hands to find the right key with (another side note – what are all the rest of those keys for?) but there’s a fleeting expression on Crowley’s face that suggests otherwise, as if he’s just now realising that the food is really for him:

He’s really not impressed with the quality of this peace offering, is he? Which is unsurprising, given that he’s not the one of them that has a burning desire to inhale anything that tastes good. At best, he might get to see Aziraphale eat it later I suppose. He’s gracious about his gift at least, because we don’t see him hand the plate back to the angel after the door is opened (in fact we’ll see it placed on the pedestal that the statue he uses to rest his glasses on later).

Right then, I have yet again wittered on quite long enough about this very small piece of film, so let’s wrap this up here. I’m hoping that now we’ve had the reunion of our hero couple in the present day, and the main establishment of the premise of the season, my write ups might get to be a little less picky (with some exceptions for notable scenes), but I guess we’ll find out. For now though, and as always, questions, comments, discussion – always welcome. See you next time 😊

#good omens #episode analysis #good omens season 2 #aziracrow #ineffable idiots #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #head canon #crowley loves aziraphale #aziraphale loves crowley #good omens nina #good omens music #good omens soundtrack

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dollarbin · 1 year ago

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Sandy Saturdays #10:

Blues Run the Game

When I was a kid there were two required initial steps to take if you wanted to one day rock: first, you had to learn how to play Stairway to Heaven. Then it was time to learn Blackbird.

I did neither; rather I borrowed my buddy Eric's spare acoustic and taught myself how to stumble through Knocking on Heaven's Door (G-D-C; G-D-C).

My approach is not recommended: my famous brother and my other, almost-as-famous, brother are both surely shredding on their six strings as we speak, their families gathered about them, rapt with awe, as they sing about the lady who's sure that all that glitters is gold and the poor blackbird's sunken eyes. Meanwhile, I'm sitting here, writing this.

(But I did recently witness a big deal version of Blackbird: the eighth grade at my school sang it with horrific, tuneless assembly requirement while their music teacher showed off his seventh grade level guitar licks, but at their center stood a committed, fearless/oblivious young woman who, I kid you not, busted out a whistled, note-perfect and full, blackbird warble at the song's end; surely that warble on The White Album is a field recording, not Paul whistling, right? But this was no field recording: the kid was on tweeting fire. I read this morning that some 14 year American boy just got a professional soccer contract for millions of dollars in England; Paul McCartney ought to offer the young woman at my school a similar contract, pronto.)

Well, anyway, neither Plant/Page's overblown, but still kinda killer (the drums!), epic or McCartney lovely yet paternalistic race anthem existed in 1965 when Sandy Denny, Nick Drake and Paul Simon were teaching themselves to be, well, Sandy Denny, Nick Drake and Paul Simon.

It's really too bad. Imagine Sandy singing Stairway to Heaven. Someway, somehow, she'd make it not sound cliche. While we're at it, imagine Sandy's perfect phrasing, volume, tempo and sense of self taking over altogether for Plant's shirtless, hollering ego.

(Don't panic, I enjoy a little Zeppelin now and again as much as the next white guy who writes a blog about his record collection, and we'll get to Plant and Denny's famous, dense and soaring, shared track on some upcoming Sandy Sunday).

And Nick Drake's version of Stairway to Heaven would be a joyful romp, no? In his hands we'd worry about the Piper rather than be warned against him.

Paul Simon, meanwhile, would revamp the entire chord structure, have 16 tracks on the demo and make Artie stand around, waiting for his turn to do something, anything, only on the last, trembling and drawn out phrase over cymbals, kettle drums and fifes: "and she's buying a stairway.... to heav......en."

But, since that song was yet to be written (Plant must have been about 7 in 65/66) there was a clear stand-in apprentice track for aspiring mid-60's Brits to work at: Blues Run the Game, Jackson C. Frank's lick heavy paean to room service gin. Simon, Denny and Drake all put their stamp on the song, Denny and Drake through home recordings and Simon through an early studio track.

We'll start with the original on this fine Saturday. Simon was there for the song's birthing; he's the producer here, which mostly seems to mean that he said "roll 'em" then looked away while the terrified Frank laid the song down live.

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Frank's biography is ready for the Sophocles treatment; he and Oedipus could compare mournful notes, competing to see who had it worse from the gods.

Frank: "Look, Oedipus, I hear you about your mom and all, but did you survive a childhood fire that killed bunches of your peers? No? And was your precocious initial development followed by failed relationships, failed marriages, a terminally ill newborn son and decades of homelessness? No again? Quit trying to interrupt Oedipus; no one cares about your dad. Finally, were you blinded in one eye by errant, random fire from a teenager wielding a pellet gun? No? Well then, quit moping, and shrug it off dude!"

Poor Frank spent a lot of the seventies charging around Woodstock, NY, in his birthday suit, occasionally complimented by a sword and/or cape, his schizophrenic delusions overcoming him. All kidding aside, you gotta feel for the dude.

His tragic life makes his sad song, and his raw performance of it, all that much sadder. The full success of his leisurely, mournful pace also explains why Simon wisely shelved his own comparatively cheerful effort with Garfunkel:

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Drake's performance, in turn, is studious and personal; he is trying to prove to himself that he's worthy to join the ranks of not just the quickly lost American, Frank, but also the full gamut of British performers who had the jump start on him, from the boy band ranks (Donovan, Cat Stevens, The Zombies) to the hersute bohemian ne'er do wells (John Renbourn, Richard Thompson, John Martyn) to the guys already living solidly on the astral plane (Heron/Williamson).

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Clearly, the elegant Drake belonged in their club; indeed, once he took a deep breath and stuck out his comely head, he was everyone's better.

I don't know that Denny's take competes with Drake's or the original. But it's still damn good and it solidly serves its purpose: Denny sings this boy song boldly as a woman, and she presents it with her soon to be signature balance of power and grace.

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Sandy dated Frank at the same point she privately laid down this track and Frank's other stone cold classic, Milk and Honey (a song that is worthy of its own future post). It seems as though Denny's dating decisions were not equal to her musical chops: she soon took a pass on the soon to be naked all the time Frank and shacked up with the world's tallest, most red-headed, dullard, Trevor Lucas.

Lucas, so far as we know, never donned a cape and charged around naked, so score one for Trevor. But he never wrote Sandy a good song, and Frank gave Denny two of them. What's more, Frank helped convince Sandy, during their time together, to quit nursing school and focus full time on music.

Good shot Jackson.

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#sandy denny #sandy saturdays #paul simon #nick drake #jackson c. frank

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luvdsc · 5 years ago

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haha, what if we kissed? (lol jk... unless?)

fact! you’re secretly in love with your best friend, and so is he!

pairing :: zhong chenle x reader genre :: fluff / best friend, buzzfeed worth it au word count :: 5,072 words warnings :: none playlist :: sunny afternoon (red velvet) ⋆ about love (marina) ⋆ all about you (nct u) ⋆ love (x lovers) ⋆ bella notte (f. murray abraham & arturo castro) author’s note :: i literally just finished writing the rest of this in my meetings today and am posting during my lunchbreak, but happy (1 day late) birthday, chenle sweetheart!! ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.

“Hello, and welcome back to another episode of Dream: Worth It!”

Chenle shouts loudly from the driver’s seat, waving excitedly at the camera attached to the dashboard as he waits for the traffic light to turn green. You visibly flinch in your spot on the passenger's side, startled by the sudden greeting, and even Jisung jumps in the backseat, almost dropping the camcorder he was fiddling with.

Your best friend continues to give the camera a dazzling smile, paying no attention to your and Jisung’s brief glares. “Today on Worth It, thanks to a fan’s suggestion, we’ll be trying out three different spaghetti dishes at three drastically different price points to find out which one is most worth it at its price!”

“Yes,” you chime in, nodding excitedly at the camera and giving a little wave. “So if you want to see another riveting episode of Chenle and Jisung going on three dates at three drastically different price points while I third wheel again, please stay tuned!”

“Hey!”

Both the boys wildly protest, but you blatantly ignore them, checking your phone quickly before beaming at the camera again. “So here’s our first spaghetti fact! The word ‘spaghetti’ is actually the plural version of spaghetto. Spaghetto comes from the Italian word spago, which means twine or thin string.”

“Wait, that actually makes sense. Spaghetti looks like thin strings,” Chenle says, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“Yeah, basically every language makes sense, except for English,” you remark, setting your phone down in your lap before turning to your best friend. “So are you excited for this episode’s dish?”

“Yes! Shout out to Moony for your suggestion,” Chenle calls out, driving forward before making a right. “If anyone else has any suggestions for future videos, please feel free to comment below.”

You start to explain the first restaurant to your viewers. “Our first stop is called Legalize Marinara! It’s a small hole in the wall place in downtown LA, and fresh pasta is made everyday. We’ll be talking to the owner and chef Johnny Suh about the daily process.”

“And cut!” Jisung calls out, and you stop there, pressing the off button to end the recording. Later on, the three of you will have to work on snipping up the recordings to create a smooth transition from there to a shot of Johnny and his restaurant before jumping into your quick interview with him.

You quickly scroll through the questions you had written ahead of time to ask Johnny on your phone, mouthing the words and memorizing them. You were always the one who asked about the history of the restaurant because Chenle wasn’t as good with the more sentimental questions and preferred the light hearted ones about the food specifically, which you didn’t mind. As long as you get to try good food at the end of it, you’re one very happy, very stuffed camper. You are very much looking forward to visiting Legalize Marinara.

“—and that’s how the pasta is freshly made everyday in the morning.” Johnny finishes up, giving the camera a very charismatic smile and a wink. “We also have a special brew of coffee created by my dad, but that’s a story for another episode. I’ll bring out the spaghetti once it’s ready.”

You and Chenle thank him before going over to sit at one of the small metal tables near the entrance. The place had a sort of modern, yet retro feel to it with an eclectic mix of vintage, kitschy furniture adding pops of color here and there to the otherwise simple space with a neutral palette. The name of the restaurant flashes as a neon sign, serving as the main wall decor along with records scattered here and there on the wall as well.

Jisung stands across from the two of you, propping the large camera on his shoulder in preparation. You and Chenle both take a sip of the special coffee drinks Johnny prepared for you each on the house, pleasantly surprised by the crisp, refreshing taste your taste buds are immediately hit with. Johnny appears minutes later, a pretty plate of simple spaghetti and meatballs along with some Parmesan and garnish on top in hand.

“Here’s our most popular dish: spaghetti with meatballs!” he announces, placing the plate in front of you both carefully. “It’s a simple tomato sauce, but it’s made with organic, local ingredients that we get from the farmer’s market every morning. We get the fresh meat from the butcher down the block everyday to make the meatballs and buy the cheese from local sellers as well. We also add the secret spice mixture created by my mom to the meatballs, which gives it a distinct flavor from other restaurants. Please dig in, guys!”

You immediately swirl your fork into the plate of spaghetti. It looks and smells absolutely fantastic, and your mouth is already watering. You cannot believe that this only costs thirteen dollars. This is an absolute steal. You are just about to take a bite when—

“Wait! We didn’t do a ‘cheers’ yet!” Chenle exclaims, sticking out his fork towards you. You clink your fork against his own metal utensil, and he’s finally satisfied, retracting his arm. Finally, you take the much anticipated bite. The flavors absolutely explode in your mouth, and you’re already reaching out to take a second forkful of the delicious masterpiece.

“This is amazing,” you declare, and Chenle nods enthusiastically, spearing a meatball with his fork. Jisung briefly pans the camera over to Johnny, who shows a double thumbs up before doing finger guns and giving an exaggerated wink.

“Here, try this.” Chenle cuts a piece of the meatball and offers it to you. You reach out for it, but he pulls back, smiling widely and eyes sparkling. “Nuh uh, that’s too easy. Say ah, Y/N.”

“I—” Your cheeks grow warmer than ever, and his grin grows broader, wriggling the fork in front of you. Face burning, you move forward and take a bite. You can hear Jisung fake gagging behind the camera and very much would like to flip him the bird, but you are a professional. You’ll get him back for that later. After all, revenge is a dish best served piping hot and spicy, and you have some Carolina reapers leftover from another video that may accidentally find its way into Jisung’s ramen next time.

You and Chenle spend some more time describing the dish in between bites as Johnny pipes in here and there with some well placed dad jokes that has Jisung shaking his head behind the camera. By the end of it, you both are very happy, and you switch places with Jisung who has a chance to try out the pasta himself at last. He silently eats it before tossing a thumbs up at the camera, and you stop the recording there. After thanking Johnny once more before the three of you leave, you all pile into your car and get ready to go to the next stop.

Up next: Penne for your Thoughts.

“Can we stop here?” Jisung pipes up, peering out the window with interest. His eyes scan the surroundings, peering at the empty space and the wide stairs in front of the spiraling columns of a grand building.

You furrow your eyebrows, glancing at your friend in the backseat. “We’re still a couple blocks away from the restaurant though.”

“This looks like a good spot to film a dance,” he muses to himself before sitting up straighter. “Can we take a quick break? We’re still early, and I wanted to film a quick TikTok before the sun sets.”

You look over at Chenle, who shrugs and pulls over. He backs up into an available parking space, parallel parking smoothly, one hand gripping the back of your seat and the other on the steering wheel. “Alright, do your thing, Jisungie.”

Jisung excitedly hops out from the back. You and Chenle follow suit, locking the car behind you. Your friend is busy setting up his collapsible tripod before placing his phone on it and calling over to you, “Hey, can you stand in front, Y/N? I wanna angle this correctly and check the lighting.”

You move in front of his phone, standing several steps in front of the stairs. Jisung fiddles around with his phone for a few moments, switching up some of the settings and zoom functions before straightening up, eyes bright. “Okay, stay there to mark the spot! I’m gonna press the start button to record. Chenle, can I borrow your phone? I need to play the song for the dance.”

Chenle hands him his phone, and the familiar intro to Doja Cat’s “Say So” begins to blast on top volume. Jisung hands it back to its owner and hurriedly moves to stand in front of his own recording phone as you step aside. “I kinda also need you two in my TikTok.”

“Wait, what? I don’t know the dance,” you protest, starting to back out, but Jisung grabs your hand, pulling you into view, as Chenle bounces over with a shrug of his shoulders, never one to shy away from the camera.

“You don’t need to dance. I just need you both to uh, kiss my cheek on, um, both sides when I tap on them both. It should be the fourth time she says ‘say so’ in the song,” he stammers slightly, face turning slightly pink. He avoids making eye contact as you give him a suspicious look, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What? Why?”

“It’s part of the dance! Now get out of the shot please because the chorus is finally coming up again!” He unceremoniously shoves you out of the frame, and Chenle quickly catches you before you faceplant into the ground. You have a few choice words to yell at your friend and are about to furiously march over to him, but Chenle tightens his grip on you. “Let’s just let him finish, and we can go on. You know how he is about dancing.”

“I’m paying Renjun to put another cockroach picture as his lockscreen again,” you huff, frowning at the dancing boy. “Why didn’t you say anything about the whole kissing request anyway?”

“Eh, I’ve done it before. It’s no big deal.” Chenle shrugs, and you start to stutter, brain malfunctioning, “Wait, you did wha—”

“Oh, it’s almost our cue!” Chenle pushes you towards Jisung as he runs behind the camera to the other side, and you find yourself stumbling for a second time before catching yourself. Grumbling to yourself, you catch Chenle’s apologetic expression, and you sigh, shaking your head as you wait on the sidelines for Jisung to do the move.

And there it is.

Jisung points at his cheeks, tapping them on both sides, and you and Chenle jump into the frame. You lean forward, pressing your lips softly against— wait.

Eyes widening, you jump back in shock, mouth popping open, and the same reaction comes from your best friend when you two realize that you just kissed each other. On the lips.

Crouched on the ground, Jisung looks rather smug after quickly dropping down mid-dance and orchestrating the whole incident. He quickly stands up, striding towards the camera and ending the recording, before efficiently packing up the equipment and walking back to the car without another word.

“Did we just—” you splutter, unable to continue your sentence, as your face grows increasingly warm. Chenle refuses to make eye contact with you, the darkening blush spreading across his face like wildfire. The two of you both direct your disbelief at the same target, rushing over to the car which he boredly stands next to, waiting for Chenle to unlock it.

“Jisung!” You both shout his name, and he just stares at you both, a small grin across his face that he struggles to hide. “What?”

“‘What?’ That’s it? What was that?! Why did you do that?” you exclaim, waving your arms around. Chenle is rendered speechless, unable to say anything after the quick outburst of his other best friend’s name.

“I was tired of listening to Che—mmph!” Jisung is abruptly cut off as Chenle throws his hand over his friend’s mouth, effectively interrupting whatever he was about to say. The two of them silently look at each other, maintaining some sort of telepathic stare that’s probably discussed in the universal book of the bro code. You’ve seen Jaemin and Jeno or Renjun and Donghyuck share the same look before and never really understood it. To be honest, it kind of reminds you of that one moment where the main characters of a chick flick gaze into each others’ eyes and then kiss.

The sound of a text notification cuts off your train of thought and breaks the intense stare down going between the two boys, and you check your phone, eyes widening. “Oh my god, we’re going to be late if we don’t go now! Taeyong just texted me to confirm if we’re coming.”

The three of you hurry into the car, buckling up in your seats. Your hand lightly grazes Chenle’s amidst the rush, and you freeze. You look up, heat spreading across your face, as Chenle meets your gaze, turning redder than spaghetti sauce.

“Alright, you can continue this moment at the restaurant,” Jisung says loudly, jolting the two of you out of your stupor. You quickly retract your hand, mumbling a quick apology, and look away, cheeks still growing warmer than ever. Chenle awkwardly clears his throat and starts the car up, driving to your second stop on the map.

Penne for your Thoughts is simply lovely. It reminds you of a place you would see on the shiny cover of Architecture Digest: a hot spot where all those social influencers would take aesthetic snapshots and post to their Instagrams. The restaurant is quaint and spacious: a large area filled with lots of greenery, hanging plants in simple white ceramic pots, white painted brick walls, and wooden tables with soft cushions on each seat. Once you wrap up the interview with Taeyong, you are seated next to an open window with a great view of a pretty koi pond in the back.

“We serve Korean fusion style food here, and our spaghetti has a freshly made tomato sauce that includes chopped kimchi infused in it. We found that using garlic marinated pork belly makes a more flavorful meatball, which we char slightly, paying homage to the wonderful KBBQ samgyeopsal. We also found that a raw egg yolk on top adds a richness to the pasta, which is similar to a bowl of bibimbap. And there’s some grated Parmesan and mozzarella on top.” Taeyong sets the plate of gorgeous spaghetti in front of you and Chenle with a shy smile. “I hope you both enjoy it.”

You don’t know how else to describe the dish, except that it is beautiful (Just like the restaurant owner, like have you seen his face? Lee Taeyong is the true modern day Adonis, but you digress). You swear you saw Chenle wipe a tear from his face out of the corner of your eye. Practically salivating, you impatiently wait for Jisung to take a few close up videos and pictures of the dish before you immediately dig in.

Fork awkwardly hovering in the air, you pause, turning to Chenle. “Uh, cheers?”

His own loaded fork is halfway to his mouth when he halts. “Oh! Right. Yes. Um, cheers, Y/N.”

The two of you stiffly tap your forks against each other before facing forward again and finally taking the much desired bite. The flavors are bursting like fireworks, and if someone told you that you had died and gone to heaven, you would believe them because there’s no other word to explain the taste other than heavenly. Dante had many circles leading to the center of hell. If you are to apply the same concept to heaven, Legalize Marinara would be the first circle you enter once you go past the pearly gates, and Penne for your Thoughts would most definitely be the second.

The clinking of Chenle’s fork against the plate breaks you from your thoughts, and your good mood falters when you remember the incident again. You plaster a quick smile as you begin to describe the dish to the camera. Chenle chimes in with a wide smile of his own that looks a little too forced, but the only one who seems to notice is you.

Once the recording is wrapped up, Chenle drops you off at your apartment building for you to change into a more dressier attire for the last stop. He and Jisung will change at their place before coming back to pick you up for dinner.

Up next: Terrazza San Valentino.

The place is positively breathtaking. It is an upscale restaurant with open seating on a terrace, leading to a beautiful view of the ocean. Wisteria vines and bright flowers weave their way through the twisting low iron fences encompassing the space as they climb the sides of the building. You have the perfect seat to witness the picturesque sunset over the rippling waters. A bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon had been brought out and now rests on the covered table, uncorked and already poured out into two glasses. It very much reminds you of the beautiful restaurants you visited along the Amalfi Coast, specifically Il Capitano in Positano. You only hope that the food here will be just as amazing as the pasta you ordered there.

You just wish your company was a little better. The atmosphere felt more awkward than the time your mom had set you up on a blind date with her coworker’s son. You had to text Chenle for help that time, and he came to your rescue, helping you escape after pretending to be your long lost son. Obviously, your date wasn’t dumb enough to believe that, but he did believe that you were completely off your rockers and immediately took off after that.

Sneaking a glance at your best friend, you sigh when you realize that he refuses to look your way. You carefully tuck the skirt of your wine red dress under your crossed legs. The sweetheart neckline emphasizes the simple gold necklace you have on, and the dress tapers off at your waist, accentuating your figure perfectly. You paired the outfit with a matching lipstick, a simple black clutch, and some elegant black heels with ribbons that loop around your ankles into a pretty bow.

In other words, you look stunning, and Chenle’s palms are growing sweaty. He undos the first few buttons of his white dress shirt, desperately wanting to take off his tailored suit jacket, but his attire would look much too casual without it. He avoids eye contact with you and remains silent, growing even more flustered by the second, and looks at Jisung helplessly.

Of course, his other best friend proves to be useless again (Disappointing, but not surprising). Jisung simply wriggles his eyebrows at him, eyes darting from you to Chenle, before zooming into his face at a very unflattering angle. Chenle throws him a dirty look, and Jisung merely sticks out his tongue in response. However, they immediately smoothen their expressions into much more pleasant ones when Jaehyun comes out with the plate of food on a small cart.

“This is our play on spaghetti.” He gives you a dimpled smile, and you briefly wonder if the customers rave about this restaurant because of the food or the chef. Perhaps it is a combination of both.

He continued to explain the dish, setting it down in front of you and Chenle. “We use strangozzi that is made fresh every morning. We infuse sun dried tomatoes that we dried ourselves into the olive oil for a minimum of thirty days. The pasta is cooked for sixty seconds, while we slightly sauté grated truffle in the oil in a pan. Once the pasta is ready, we transfer it to the truffle pan and cook it for another minute, making sure to coat the pasta in the sauce. And then we grate some Parmesan and truffles right on top at the table.”

Jaehyun pulls out the expensive mushroom, generously grating thin slices on top of the glistening strands of pasta. The smell is incredible, and your eyes are already hyper fixated on the dish in front of you. He puts down the mushroom and grater, picking up the second grater and the cheese from the cart before shredding the cheese perfectly.

When he finishes, Jaehyun places them back on the cart and smiles at you both charmingly once more. “I hope you enjoy your meal. If you need anything else, please feel free to ask.”

You thank him before he leaves, and Jisung takes all the necessary shots before giving the okay to start eating. You and Chenle offer up some comments about the elegance of the dish, describing its appearance and finally twirling some on the end of your fork. You murmur a quiet “cheers” as the two of you clink your glasses of wine together and take a sip before having the first bite.

The amount of money you have to pay to have a truffle dish is absolutely worth it. The taste is simply indescribable, and you truly have no words. You are blown away by the amount of flavor that can be created with just a few ingredients, and your taste buds are singing. Wide eyed, you turn to look at Chenle, who has the same astonished expression on his face, already staring back at you in complete surprise.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, and your best friend agrees with you. “Holy shit indeed.”

You immediately go for another bite, and Chenle quickly follows suit. “This is— this is incredible. I don’t know how to describe it, except, except, wow. I can’t stop eating it, and the sun dried tomatoes, olive oil, fresh pasta al dente, and truffles just work so well together. It’s like a symphony in my mouth.”

“I agree,” Chenle nods enthusiastically, swiping another forkful of the yummy goodness. “This has to be one of the best dishes of the entire season.”

“Yeah, absolutely.” You spear a slice of the truffle with the pasta, and the ensuing bite is simply perfect and delectable. “I would come back here every single week if my bank account would let me.”

The stifled atmosphere between the two of you suddenly becomes relaxed at that point, the thick tension dissipating with food never failing to act as the perfect ice breaker and buffer simultaneously. For now, you can pretend the kiss didn’t happen and almost forget it (key word: almost).

“There’s a very popular fan suggestion,” Jisung pipes up, looking at the comment section of the previous video where you and Chenle announced your current recording’s star dish. “It got over twenty thousand likes and five hundred responses.”

“What is it?” You pause in eating, fork poised in the air, as you look over to your friend behind the camera. Chenle pays no attention, continuing to take another bite.

“Recreate the Lady and the Tramp moment.”

Your jaw drops, and your eyes grow round. Practically scandalized, your voice goes an octave higher. “You mean the kissing scene?!”

At the mention of kissing, Chenle chokes on a noodle, spluttering and nearly hacking up a lung, and you quickly reach over and firmly pat him on the back repeatedly until he stops coughing with a weak “thanks.”

“What? This is a food show! Why do they want us to kiss?” your best friend wheezes, and you pass him a glass of water. He grabs it from your outstretched hand gratefully and takes a large gulp.

“I don’t know, fan service? Anyway, it’s good for the views!” Jisung gives you a thumbs up, and you frown at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Why don’t you do it with Chenle then?”

“It specifically says you and Chenle,” he informs smugly with a smirk, and you glower at him, much to his amusement.

“Well, if it’s for the fans…” Chenle trails off, a faint blush beginning to make its appearance on his face. He hesitantly pulls out one strand of the pasta, picking up one end on his fork.

You can’t believe this. Yet, you slowly reach out for the other end of the strand with your fork, twirling it onto the metal prongs securely. You move to take your end of the noodle, while Chenle does the same, both of you actively avoiding eye contact.

“Oh c’mon, at least make it a little more romantic than that. Jeno and Jaemin have more chemistry than you two right now,” Jisung complains, and you would very much like to chuck the half full bottle of wine at his big, annoying head (Chenle also has similar thoughts).

Taking a deep breath, you finally place the noodle’s end in your mouth. Cheeks burning, you can feel your heart rate already skyrocketing at the mere thought of kissing your best friend again. You know you’ll freeze up if you look at him, so you do your best to focus your gaze on the center of the noodle strand. You’ll have some time before the two of you meet in the middle, right?

Wrong.

It comes much too soon, and your palms are growing sweaty as your heart races in your chest at a breakneck speed. Your lips are mere millimeters away from his, and you pause. You can’t hear anything, but the pounding of your heart and the blood rushing to your cheeks, and you finally find the courage to peek up at your best friend. You find him already gazing at you, a soft expression on his face. His eyes dart down to your lips before meeting your eyes once more, and you suddenly realize that he’s waiting for you, that he won’t do anything unless you want it too, that it’s okay if you don’t.

But you do.

So you muster up all the courage you possibly can and close the distance, carefully pressing your lips against his for a tender kiss before biting off the noodle. When you pull back, you finally notice the awestruck expression written all over Chenle’s face. He lets out a small laugh of disbelief before he positively beams, bouncing in his seat, and you sport a matching smile, albeit a little bashful.

“Uh, anyway, who left that comment? We should probably give them a mention,” you say, clearing your throat and hoping the heat subsides in your cheeks soon. Chenle continues to grin like the Cheshire Cat and secretly grabs your hand underneath the tablecloth, intertwining your fingers with his. You can feel your face exponentially growing warm once again, but you still send a pleased smile to your best friend.

“Uh…” Jisung awkwardly laughs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “‘Insert goofy’s chuckle.’”

At Jisung’s answer, you freeze up entirely in your position before immediately turning and locking eyes with Chenle in complete horror, the both of you instantly coming to the same, dreadful realization.

“HYUCK?!”

One new notification: Dream: Worth It uploaded a new video!

insert goofy’s chuckle commented:

oh my god you guys actually did it. your relationship started all thanks to ME 🙆🏻 you’re welcome btw 😘 I take payment in the form of your first born’s name

notanimpasta replied: @ insert goofy’s chuckle ok calm down rumpelstiltskin

jisung pwark replied: @ notanimpasta what a perfect nickname for him. He’s an ugly little greedy man

ghosts are real so suck it hyuck replied: @ jisung pwark LMAOOOO (and congrats, chenle and y/n!)

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ jisung pwark what tf no one asked???

notanimpasta replied: @ jisung pwark wait hold on you were supposed to edit that end part out????

jisung pwark replied: @ notanimpasta i left it for the views ☺️

big head king replied: @ jisung pwark people watch for the food tho!!! 🙂

nana ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ replied: @ big head king I watched it for the kiss. Love is so beautiful 🥰💓💞🥺🥺💕💛💟✨💖

jenojam replied: @ big head king I had watched it for the food! but congratulations, y/n and chenle :)

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ big head king i watched it because ron jeon said you mentioned me

ghosts are real so suck it hyuck replied: @ insert goofy’s chuckle IT’S RENJUN!!!!!! 🤬🤬

mork lee rawr xD replied: hahaha I watch for the food~

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ mork lee rawr xD Thank you Mark, very cool!

winwin in past tense is wonwon!!! commented:

whoop whoop congrats lele 🥳🥳

rapperpunzel commented:

the pasta looks good 🍝

johnny’s communication center commented:

Thanks for stopping by! Come back for the couple’s special discount anytime 😉

baa baa yang sheep commented:

oh my god finally!!!

ghosts are real so suck it hyuck replied: @ baa baa yang sheep you owe me $50 I was right, it happened before the season finale

baa baa yang sheep replied: @ ghosts are real so suck it hyuck suddenly i’m jared, 19

xiao dejasmine commented:

hahahaha cute ! 😁😁

ty track commented:

Thank you y/n and chenle for visiting ~~ congrats on your relationship !!! -TY

junguwu (◕‿◕✿) commented:

YAAAAAS CHENLE SWEETIE 😘😘😘

jisung pwark commented:

check out my latest tiktok video @ jisungpwark to see their actual first kiss!!! and don’t forget to like, comment, and subscribe ☺️

notanimpasta replied: @ jisung pwark STOP USING US AS CLICKBAIT

jisung pwark replied: @ notanimpasta no ❤️

jisung pwark replied: @ notanimpasta also red is sus

big head king replied: @ jisung pwark so when are you gonna do the best friend kissing challenge huh 👀

jisung pwark replied: @ big head king SHUT UP CHENLE

honeyfairy replied: @ jisung pwark 😳😳

gu ren gui god commented:

wow~ very cute, chenle! my angel 😊

FIGHTING HAEYADWAE commented:

YOOOOO CONGRATS, MAN 🤩🤪🤪

prince jae commented:

thank you guys for coming by! please stop by next year on your anniversary free of charge (:

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ prince jae omg mark and I will be there for sure ❤️

showmethemonet replied: @ insert goofy’s chuckle my new boyfriend and I will be there too ☺️

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ showmethemonet I’m sorry, I was wrong, pls don’t leave me for bts jin even though i am so much more handsomer and talented than him 😌

apado gwenchana god commented:

nice 😎👍🏻

2K notes · View notes

daddyjackfrost · 4 years ago

Text

Akaashi Keiji;

Prompt 6: “There’s nothing you could say to me that would ever make me stop.”

i’m so in love with this man.

warnings: angst? hurt/comfort? fluff kinda? insecure Akaashi, mention of not being good enough, tears, a sweet kiss, akaashi hating himself:(

a/n: this was kinda rushed and it’s 2:57 am rn and i just thought about this and i had to write it. which is ironic because there are like 8 half finished writing pieces staring at me rn but wtvr

!!!! A/ex/g ➡️ Akaashi’s ex-girlfriend

Akaashi Keiji stared at himself in the window of a floral shop.

His blue eyes raked over his simple attire, messy black hair, and the briefcase he clutched in his right hand.

Akaashi had planned to stop at this floral shop today to plan and get an order on your favourite flowers for your one year anniversary in two days.

Akaashi couldn’t believe it had almost been a whole year. He couldn’t believe that someone like you stayed with him for a whole year.

Akaashi reached for the door handle, and then paused. What if he got you the wrong flowers? What if they didn’t come on time? What if you hated them?

With pursed lips, Akaashi took a step back, and then turned around and began walking back to his car. Akaashi had been a mess all day. He woke up five minutes after his alarm went off, causing you to wake up, and Akaashi had felt so guilty. Then, at work, he had managed to lose a manga panel, which he found after ten minutes, but those ten minutes had been the most terrifying ten minutes of his life.

Akaashi sat in his car and gripped the steering wheel. His eyes fell on his hands and he frowned. Long and pale fingers stared back at him, and he quickly released the wheel.

Akaashi sighed and then did something out of character.

Akaashi slammed the steering wheel and let out a quiet string of curses.

As of right now, Akaashi hated himself. Akaashi had a bad habit of being caught up in his own head and indulging in his negative thoughts, but he had been really good at keeping himself level headed.

Akaashi knew why he had done a good job.

You.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Akaashi started his car and began to drive, making sure to keep his eyes on the road and not his hands. His stomach churned and Akaashi had no idea why he couldn’t just stay out of his head. Why did he have to fall into this negative and self-loathing mindset so close to your anniversary?

Unknowing to Akaashi, his subconscious knew why. The only reason Akaashi was on a self destructive rampage was because of your one year anniversary. Akaashi didn’t think he was capable—deserving—of the love you had for him, and it was eating him up.

Ever since he was a young boy, Akaashi had known that life was not on anyone’s side. Akaashi would have a few great weeks, and then he would have a terrible week. It had become a routine, a sixth sense. Akaashi had been waiting for the terrible week for a while, not believing that he was allowed to have just a good month.

The writer believed in happy endings, just not his own. Past relationships had made it very clear that Akaashi could not be loved. His last and longest relationship had shown him that he would never be enough, and it was eating him.

Akaashi hadn’t even realized he was home until he stopped the car and looked up. Slowly, Akaashi turned off the car and opened the car door.

He was anxious.

He knew you waited inside, and although a bigger part of Akaashi wanted to see you and lay in your arms, the insecure version of Akaashi, the one he kept hidden, wanted to be alone. Akaashi had always been a calm and collected person, until he wasn’t, and Akaashi hated it when others saw him at his weakest.

You knew of Akaashi’s insecurities. His anxiety attacks. And even though you have told him countless times that it was nothing to be ashamed of, Akaashi wasn’t willing to believe you.

Akaashi wiped the sweat off his hands, and forced a small smile upon his face. He knew you would immediately see through his facade, but he did it anyways.

Akaashi opened the door to his house and was immediately greeted with soft music playing. He took a few small steps in and heard a familiar tune of BTS’s The Truth Untold. Akaashi quietly untied his tie and slipped off his shoes, his eyes on your back as you quietly swayed, staring at two picture frames in your hands.

You hadn’t noticed Akaashi yet, and he was thankful. Akaashi’s eyes glazed over some of the boxes that belonged to you, and his heart started beating faster.

Akaashi had asked you to move in with him two weeks ago, so why was he nervous? Why was his heart beating faster at the thought of you in his space?

Akaashi finally cleared his throat and you quickly turned around, releasing a small breath of surprise.

You quickly put down the two frames and smiled at Akaashi. “Keiji! How long have you been standing there?”

Akaashi swallowed the lump in his throat, and licked his cracked lips.

Your eyes zeroed in on Akaashi’s slightly pale face, his disheveled tie, and the slight shake of his fingers.

You immediately took small steps towards Akaashi, frowning when you noticed how shaken he looked.

Akaashi just stared at you with wide eyes. You were really here. You were really with him. You were moving in with him. All of the evidence was right there, so why was Akaashi having such a hard time believing it?

You slowly brought your hand up to rest on Akaashi’s arm but he flinched, and you dropped your hand.

With furrowed eyebrows and eyes filled with concern, you took a small step back, wanting to give Akaashi his space.

“Keiji? What’s wrong?”

I don’t know, Akaashi wanted to tell you. Sometimes I look at you and my heart begins to beat faster. I don’t why you’re with me, he wants to yell, when you can do so much better.

Instead, Akaashi says, “Why are you here, y/n?”

Your heart drops into your stomach but you don’t move. You don’t show your hurt, because you know Akaashi didn’t mean it like that. You knew the signs. Akaashi looked pained, like he had been walking through a storm, except the storm was in his head.

“What do you mean, Keiji?”

Akaashi dropped his briefcase and ran his hands through his hair. You bent down and picked up the briefcase, and gently put it down on the table.

You walked to the kitchen and filled up a cup with water, and then walked to the sofa. You looked up and met Akaashi’s clouded eyes.

“Sit down, Keiji.” You sat down on the couch, motioning for Akaashi to do so as well. “Talk to me.”

Akaashi had no control over his movements, not when you spoke to him with a soft voice and gentle eyes.

Akaashi walked to the sofa, sitting down on the edge. He wasn’t used to talking about his feelings. Before you, he never even tried, but ever since you walked into his life six years ago, it had been a bit easier for him to talk and try and explain his feelings.

Akaashi sighed and rubbed his hands together. Your eyes were on his hands. Akaashi unconsciously dragged his fingernails across his hands, leaving red marks.

You reached out and grabbed both of his hands in yours. You didn’t look up at him, your sole focus on his hands. You gently rubbed your thumb over the scratches, trying to soothe them.

Akaashi stared at your actions with watering eyes.

You both were quiet, your music had filled the silence. You would never force Akaashi to talk, and he knew that, but you also wanted to push Akaashi into talking. Akaashi was intelligent, and he usually found the solutions to his concerns as he talked. All you did was make sure he was on the right path.

“I’m scared,” Akaashi finally mumbled after some time. You didn’t stop holding his hands, you slowly drew circles on the backside of his hands, knowing that it brought him comfort.

“Scared of what, Keiji?”

“You.”

You looked up, and Akaashi looked down to meet your eyes. Your eyes met his and you were quite sure everything around you stopped. His dark eyes reminded you of the bottom of the ocean. They were dark, hiding secrets you would only know if you swam all the way down. Fortunately for you, you weren’t scared of drowning, and as you looked into those heavenly deep eyes, you could see yourself sinking to the bottom of the ocean.

Akaashi’s eyes held so many emotions, so many unsaid words he wished to convey.

“I’m scared of the way you make me feel. I see you and I stop breathing.” Akaashi stared into your eyes. His lips lightly quivered and you knew that the words coming out of Akaashi’s mouth would be the most important words you would ever hear. “When A/ex/g left me, I never thought I would love again. I was so sure that I would never open my heart again, and then you stood by me every single day and you always smiled at me and you--you never let me feel alone, y/n.”

You let out a small breath. Akaashi had never been this vocal about his feelings for you, and your eyes began to water. You weren’t quite sure where Akaashi was going with his words, but you were just glad that you were here to hear them.

“It hurts. I just want you to have the best and I’m not the best y/n.” Akaashi’s watering blue eyes locked on yours and you felt your heart break as you heard Akaashi’s next words.

“I’m not the best for you, y/n. You deserve better but I’m greedy and I don’t want you to leave me but I can’t give you much. I’m a mess and I’m anxious and I can’t really breathe and I want to love you the way you deserve but I don’t think I can.”

You watched as a tear rolled down Akaashi’s beautifully pale skin. Akaashi’s words rang in your head, but you wanted to laugh. You wanted to laugh and you wanted to cry and you wanted to hold and kiss Akaashi, but all of that had to wait.

As smoothly as you could, you slipped off the sofa and sat on your knees in front of Akaashi. You held his hands in yours and you looked up at him.

You pulled your hand away from Akaashi’s to wipe the tears that spilled from his eyes. The ocean was bleeding and you hated it. You licked your lips and took a deep breath, hoping the tears that had gathered in your eyes wouldn’t fall.

“Keiji,” you whispered. “Look at me.”

Akaashi lifted his head and almost choked when he saw the love and adoration swirl in your eyes. Akaashi was afraid to look at you because he didn’t want to see satisfaction in your eyes. He didn’t want to see everything he was afraid of.

“I don’t deserve better, Keiji, you are the best. I’m greedy too, and I’m not going to leave you, ever. I love you, Keiji. I love you with everything I am and everything I hope to be. After all this time, I still love you.” You squeezed Akaashi’s hands. “Keiji, It’s always been you. I’ve only ever wanted you, I love you with your anxiousness and I love you with all your messes. I love you today, and I’ll love you tomorrow, and I’ll love you forever. There’s nothing you could ever say to me that would make me stop.”

Tears fell freely down Akaashi’s face. He had never been told that he was loved this much. If you hadn’t been staring into his eyes the whole time and clutching his hands like you would collapse if you didn’t hold them, Akaashi would have never believed you. Your words were burned onto his heart, but Akaashi still felt like he didn’t deserve them.

“What if I said,” Akaashi paused. “What if I said I hated you? Would you love me then?”

“Do you, Keiji?” You smiled at him. “Hate me, I mean.”

Akaashi stared at you with vulnerable eyes. “No,” Akaashi let out a small disbelieving laugh. “I don’t hate you. I can’t hate you, y/n. Not when you hold my heart.”

You brought Akaashi’s hands to your lips and laid a soft kiss on his fingers. “You hold my heart too, Keiji. You’ve held my heart since the first day we met.” You pressed your lips against his hands again and then looked up, your eyes meeting his. “You are enough for me, Keiji. You’re more than enough for me.”

Akaashi bit his lips to stop the sob that he knew was coming. Akaashi wasn’t surprised you knew the insecurities that plagued him. Akaashi didn’t know how to react to your words because the way you looked up at him, with your eyes shining, made him want to believe your words. You looked at Akaashi like he had hung all the stars in the sky and Akaashi wanted to cry.

“Keiji, it’s okay to doubt yourself. It’s okay to be insecure, but Keiji,” you squeezed Akaashi’s hands and pushed yourself up so you were now on your knees and almost at eye level with him. “Don’t ever doubt me. Because no matter how much I say I love you, I always love you more than that.”

You captured Akaashi’s sob with your lips, having pressed your lips gently against his as he cried.

You tried pulling away, but Akaashi’s hands cupped your face and kept you in place. The kiss was soft, just two lover’s lips pressed together, but it was what Akaashi needed.

When Akaashi pulled away, you grabbed the glass of water and handed it to Akaashi.

The writer let out a dry laugh but you didn’t miss the small smile and the way his eyes shined.

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#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu akaashi #keiji akaashi #akaashi x reader #akaashi fluff #akaashi x y/n #hq!!#hq akaashi #akaashi imagine #akaashi oneshot #hq prompts #hana.writes!

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carryonthroughtheages · 4 years ago

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Hello everyone!

Another year of Carry On Through The Ages is over and done! We have emotions and exhaustion, but we're so happy that this year had the hype and excitement that it did.

Thank you, from the bottom of our hearts, to all of the AMAZING creators who spent the last several months working away at their historical content!

Thank you also to the hard-working mods: @bazzybelle, @giishu, @palimpsessed, and @xivz . This fest would not have been as successful as it has been without you!

We encourage everyone to look under the page break for all the fics and art. They're all fantastic!

Here is the link to the AO3 Collection: Carry On Through The Ages 2021!

Thank you all, and until next year! 🧡🧡🧡

MONDAY:

1) sun on the sea (T) - @trenchcoat-moth : AO3 // Tumblr

Tensions run high in England, and Malcolm decides it's for the best he sends Baz to live with Fiona, where he'll be safer.

That is, until Baz's ship is attacked.

2) The Words I Long To Say (M) - @bazzybelle : AO3 // Tumblr

Simon Snow was dead.

Baz Pitch was sure of it. Simon had gone away seven years ago to fight a war in the jungle and he hadn't come home.

So, when Simon shows up in Baz's club, investigating a string of brutal murders, all Baz wants to do is hold him close and never let him go.

But these aren't the same boys from 1960 and Baz has a lot of processing to do before he's ready to believe in Simon again.

3) we are slaves to gods, whatever gods are (M) - @wellbelesbian : AO3 // Tumblr

I don’t fully understand what plagues him, but I know it’s bad, and I know it goes deeper than guilt. He didn’t want to kill his father, not really, but we were instructed to do so by Apollo. Cleanse the house of its sins, dispose of a murderer to set things right. It was only right that I join him; he was avenging my mother as much as his. Clearly, Apollo didn’t seem to consider that such an act would make Simon a murderer in his father’s place. It seems I got off fine, but as far as Simon is concerned, the vengeful spirits that once spun and danced on the roof of the palace now hunt him down, determined not to stop until he rids the world of himself.

4) World War II Era Art - @stardustasincocaine : Tumblr

TUESDAY:

1) the art of loving you (E) - @one-more-offbeat-anthem : AO3 // Tumblr

1955. London. Young love.

Forbidden love.

A year ago, starving artist Simon Snow met Baz Pitch, son of a wealthy art patron, at a party, and their days (and nights) together have been a wonderful secret.

But Simon is tired of being a secret and knows it's time for things to end.

(Baz has other ideas.)

2) Reliquary of an Arsonist (T) - @tea-brigade : AO3 // Tumblr

Simon Snow grew up a ward of Watford Abbey, but when his magic manifested in an explosive accident as a child, he became the Abbey’s anchorite—never to leave Watford’s walls, for his own protection. That is, until Abbot David sends him on an important errand…

Basilton Pitch paints portraits for his patron, Lord Grimm. But he’s never forgotten the magic he learned from his mother—nor the men who condemned her to death as a heretic. When Simon arrives and offers Baz a commission from Watford Abbey, he sees his chance to avenge his mother once and for all...and he’s willing to burn down everything in his path to that end.

But it was no coincidence that pulled these two unlikely souls together. Something more sinister is underway at Watford Abbey, and only Simon and Baz can uncover the truth before everything goes up in flames.

3) Westward Son (E) - @aristocratic-otter : AO3 // Tumblr

Simon and Baz have found each other again, but there's nowhere in Brooklyn or Virginia where they can safely be together. So now, they venture the hazards and struggles of the Oregon trail, to perhaps find a little homestead in Oregon of their own.

4) A Way Out (T) - @lying-on-the-sofa : AO3

I frown at him..“You don’t know me.”

He offers his hand. “Simon.”

Simon. I feel the name around in my mind and assign it to his face. Simon. I don’t shake his hand. They’ve still got my arms pinned. “Basilton.”

Simon nods at me. “Now we know each other. Let him go.” Very casually, he takes his other hand from behind his back. A sword, flashing. He leans on it and smiles invitingly. “Let him go.”

This time, they listen.

Simon Snow has been trained for years to become a tribute—one of the fighters Athens sends every ninth year into the Minotaur’s labyrinth. He wants to know the way out, if only for Penny’s sake. Luckily for him, Prince Basilton of Crete also wants a way out—off the island, where no one will know he’s the half-brother of the Minotaur.

Unluckily for both of them, they don’t exactly form the most agreeable pair.

WEDNESDAY

1) long is the road the leads me home (G) - @wellbelesbian : AO3 (Version 1) (Version 2) // Tumblr

Baz has a rather unremarkable life, and he's fine with that. Running his late mother's beloved inn with his temperamental aunt, estranged from his father and step-siblings, he's successfully convinced himself that he's better off without attachments.

Then Simon barrels into his life, guns blazing and rapier drawn, and Baz is swept up in dramatic plot he never bargained for.

Worse still, he finds he quite likes the thrill.

2) New Romantics (T) - @ninemagicks : AO3 // Tumblr

Basilton Pitch, twenty-two years old and a famed poet of the Romantic era, has fled to the countryside. In Mummers House, the fabled haunt of literary greats, he sulks himself into oblivion and awaits a sad, disappointing end to his brief years of brilliance. The cause of his downfall? None other than Simon Snow, the so-called “bad boy of English poetry”, breaker of rules and eternal thorn in his side. Baz hopes that Mummers House might mean an escape from London, from Snow and his increasingly virulent popularity... but the rain that comes has other ideas.

3) thnétos (T) - @snowybank : AO3 // Tumblr

thnétos: subject to death, mortal

a retelling of Apollo and Hyacinthus

4) A Medieval AU art piece - @thewriterxj : Tumblr

THURSDAY

1) From Eden (E) - @orange-peony : AO3 // Tumblr

I wonder if his skin is warm or cold to the touch. I tell myself it’s simple curiosity, that I’m an artist and capturing things on paper or canvas is my way to make sense of the world. That drawing him feels so natural, so I should just follow my instincts. Ebb used to say it all the time. Follow your heart. It knows where you’re supposed to go.

I wish I could. I wish I had enough money and freedom to just draw what I want. To paint him in his unattainable beauty. To draw him the way I want to. Naked and vulnerable, raw. Without frills and expensive suits.

Just Baz on paper, my fingers tracing his delicate and beautiful lines with simple charcoal.

2) Slings and Eros (M) - @palimpsessed : AO3 // Tumblr

Young god of love Simonides is tasked by his father, the god of war, to bring about the ruin of a mortal prince to punish his blasphemy. However, once Simonides sees his intended victim, he begins to have misgivings. Prince Tyrannus might have offended the gods with his very existence, but all Simonides can see is how beautiful and lonely he is.

Or, a very loose interpretation of the Eros and Psyche myth.

3) I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire (M) - @knitbelove : AO3 // Tumblr

September 1940: Going back to Watford feels different this year, and not just because England is at the brink of war with Germany and Italy. Penelope seems unsettled by everything, and Agatha is distant, and Baz is … simply not here.

What if Carry On but during the Blitz?? Yeah.

4) A Fool's Oath (M) - @thewriterxj : AO3 // Tumblr

A simple soldier is invited to join the ranks of the royal guard. He and his appointed mage arrive at the royal city to find themselves at the mercy of an unmerciful court. As he struggles to find his place in this foreign environment, he also finds himself entranced by music that only he seems to hear that floats out about the city. He makes an oath to wed whoever makes such beautiful music.

Too bad that person is the crown prince.

FRIDAY

1) Stranger Tides (T) - @tea-brigade & @xivz : AO3 // Tumblr

“If some god shall wreck me in the wine-dark deep, even so I will endure…” Captain Simon Snow of the Chosen One is many things—cunning, handsome, ruthless. Greedy. It’s no surprise that Snow finds a way to piss off the God of the Sea, he always manages to get himself into some type of trouble. This time, however, he’s not the only one who will suffer the consequences. Poseidon promises to not stop his pursuit until Snow and all of his men are dead.

Enter Basilton Pitch—rich, beautiful, mysterious. Suspicious. He offers the crew of the Chosen One a hefty sum to take him back to Europe from the Caribbean. And who is Captain Snow to refuse so much coin? After all, Greek gods aren’t real.

Right?

2) The wayward heir [comic] (M) - @letraspal : AO3 // Tumblr

Like a folk song, our love will be passed on. Simon Snow wants to be an artist. He used to live in Fiesole where he worked in the wool shop of his good friend Ebeneza Petty. He has now chosen to return to his native Florence in order to participate in an art contest hosted by the Pitch family, the most important bankers in all the three continents and Simon’s last chance for an art patronage. No matter how much he hates them.

But being back in Florence also brings back the memories Simon wanted to leave behind : his days as an orphan, the mystery about his mother, and once more being under the inquisitive eyes of his godfather, the new archbishop Davy. The archbishop is very same man who would never forgive him for dropping out the priesthood and ruining his secret plans against the Pitches.

The last thing Simon needed was an unbearably handsome jerk getting him into trouble on his very first day in Florence. How can focus when this man is the most annoying person he has ever met and yet his major source of inspiration.

3) Prohibition Blues (T) - @heyyyandrea : AO3

Simon Snow is a baker and aspiring playwright in Prohibition Era New York City. When he meets a handsome man at Shepherd's speakeasy who is interested in his work, he can't help but think it feels too good to be true.

4) Earth Below & Sky Above (M) - @phoxphyre : AO3 // Tumblr

In the depth of the palace of King Minos of Crete lurks a creature known as the Minotaur.

Baz, prince of Athens and chosen of the god Poseidon, has heard the stories. And now he’s volunteered to come to Crete as one of the annual tributes—to dance with the king’s bulls and fulfill his destiny. He just wants to survive the bulls, protect his people, and go home.

But what if the Minotaur isn’t a monster—but just a boy? And what if instead of slaying him, Baz fell in love with him?

A Carry On retelling of the myth of Theseus and the Minotaur, set in Bronze Age Crete.

5) A 1980s AU Art piece by @stardustasincocaine : Tumblr // Instagram (Slightly NSFW)

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capypub · 3 years ago

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Dancing with the Double-Edged Sword (Ch. 4)

Bruno Madrigal x Original Female Character

Chapter Rating: G

(Masterlist)

As Mila walked home that afternoon, she found herself wondering how the following days would unfold. Next time she saw the man she was becoming deeply enamored by, which version of himself would he be?

Her mind was flooded with thoughts about questions about Bruno, then Hernando, and then Bruno some more. She dreamed of them, Bruno’s sweet and gentle touches, Hernando’s hungry gaze and seductive words. Both of them had her body warm and tingling when she woke up the following morning, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead, her breathing slightly heavy as she shook all the naughty thoughts from her head.

Leo was already downstairs, stocking for the day’s customers, counting their supplies, and setting up clean glasses at the bar. He eyed his younger sister, smirking when he noticed she had worn one of her outfits, a flowing maroon skirt with golden accents paired with a form-fitting white blouse with gold and maroon detailing throughout the off-shoulder sleeves and along her waist.

“What’s gotten into you?” he asked, watching her as she practically floated down the stairs, a lightness in every step.

“Just…woke up in a good mood,” she shrugged, her eyes dreamy and voice chipper.

“Uh huh…” he nodded, not interested in prying so early in the morning.

Usually Mila opens and prepares the cantina in the mornings, Leo usually goes to their parents house to collect their product for the next few days, but has started going in the early afternoon before the evening rush.

She helped him finish getting everything ready and then he sent her out to collect an order of candles from Señor Martinez. He even caught her humming as she gathered her things before leaving, nearly dancing out the door from being in such a good mood. He shook his head, amused with her antics.

As she strolled through the plaza, passing vendors and villagers, she met each face with a small smile. Those who passed also seemed to notice her sudden glow and bright energy as she walked by.

Approaching the well, she spotted Julieta setting up her table of food, villagers lining up as she finished stacking empty baskets. Mila couldn’t help but search the area for a familiar green ruana, hoping she’d get to see him at least once before things got busy at the cantina.

“Uh…hi…”

She jumped, spinning around to come face-to-face with who she’d been looking for, his lanky figure being swallowed by the dark green material.

“Bruno,” she beamed, stepping towards him.

He couldn’t help but admire how beautiful she looked in the morning sun. The dark red of her skirt complimented her skin and hair extremely well. She wore golden earrings and a gold ribbon around her neck with a charm at the end. She smelled of flowers and morning dew, an enchanting scent that had Bruno’s head spinning.

“W-where you, uh…looking for someone?” he asked, fidgeting with a loose string on his sleeve.

“You, actually,” she admitted, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“M-me?” he squeaked, his face heating up instantly.

“I never asked when you were free…for our date,” she said, batting her lashes up at him.

“O-oh, right,” he nodded, obviously flustered by her, “uh…I mean, w-we could…uh,” he stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

She waited patiently, eyes wide and eager, as he racked his brain for something to do, something she’d enjoy. When she realized that he was struggling, she couldn’t help the small giggle, taking his hand and squeezing it affectionately.

“There’s supposed to be a band playing at the cantina tonight, maybe tomorrow evening we could go for a walk by the river, I could bring a bottle of wine and maybe Julieta might have some leftovers we could snack on…we could find a quiet place to just sit and talk?” she suggested, holding his hand the entire time, swinging them loosely, playfully.

“Uh, y-yeah, I mean, yes…that sounds perfect,” he nodded with a small smile, his eyes darting around them, noticing the few people who had glanced their way and began to whisper.

“Don’t mind them, they have nothing better to do than gossip,” she shrugged, her eyes never leaving his face as she took a cautious step closer, “I’ll see you then,” she added, leaning up and pecking his cheek before darting off to the candlemakers shop.

Bruno sighed happily, watching her walk away, his heart hammering in his chest as he touched his cheek where her lips had been. She was breathtaking.

“Ay, Brunito , what was that?”

Glancing to the side, he found Pepa eyeing him with a knowing smirk, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched her brother swoon like a lovesick puppy.

“What was what?” he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets and making his way back to Julieta’s table.

“You and that pretty señorita who just kissed you,” she exclaimed, grabbing onto his arm and shaking it with excitement.

“ Ya Pepa, don’t start,” he grumbled, ducking his head.

“Who is she? How long have you been seeing her? Does mamá know you’re courting this girl? Oh, what’s her name?” she continued to badger him all the way to Julieta’s table, immediately grabbing their eldest sister’s attention with a detailed account of what she had seen.

“Oh, Brunito, how sweet, you should bring her over for dinner one night, I’m sure mamá would love to meet her,” she cooed, patting his cheek affectionately.

“Stop it,” he whined, jerking away from their poking and prodding, “it’s not like that, w-we’re just…g-getting to know each other,” he mumbled shyly.

“Well, she’s beautiful, hermanito , we can’t wait to meet her,” Pepa beamed, clapping her hands with excitement before she headed towards the fields to help with the watering.

“I know this relationship is still fresh, but how do you think Hernando will feel about all this?” Julieta asked quietly, leaning towards him when there was a break in the line.

“Uh, he’s met her actually,” he shrugged, leaning against the well behind her table, “he told her that…uh, that I liked her,” he added, toying with his sleeve again.

“Ah, so he helped you get the girl, then?” she joked, causing Bruno to roll his eyes and cross his arms with a huff.

When the food was gone and the line dispersed, Bruno helped his sister pack up her things and prepare to head home. The sun was just beginning to set over the mountains and he knew his sisters must be tired after another long day of using their gifts to help the village. A pang of guilt struck Bruno, knowing he could never contribute like they did. He seemed to only bring misery with his gift, rarely receiving as much as a thank you when villagers came to him asking about their futures.

“Brunito, do you mind if we stop by the cantina before heading home? Augustin is playing tonight and I told him I’d try to stop by for a song,” Julieta asked as he lifted the baskets onto his back.

“Uh, t-the cantina? H-he’s playing there…tonight?”

“Oh, si, si , Felix is supposed to be there with his hermano tonight, please, Brunito, let’s go in for one drink,” Pepa insisted, hopping up and down with excitement.

Unable to deny his sisters, he just nodded. As they approached the familiar stone building, Bruno began to anxiously chew at his lip. He could hear music through the open windows. He hesitated at the bottom of the steps, but Pepa was having none of it, her heart set on seeing her novio as quickly as possible, as she shoved Bruno roughly forward.

#bruno madrigal #bruno madrigal imagine #bruno madrigal x original female character #bruno madrigal fluff #bruno madrigal fanfic #bruno madrigal x female reader #bruno madrigal x reader #bruno madrigal fanfiction #bruno madrigal x oc #encanto fanfic #encanto imagine

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dragons-bones · 4 years ago

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FFXIV: A Rising Chorus

A/N: \o/ It’s done! Been working on this off and on since Balmung finished its Firmament, and I’m so happy I finally get to share it.

RATING: G WORD COUNT: 3032 WARNINGS: Spoilers for the final Ishgard Restoration quest line that begins with “Not By Bread Alone;” tooth-rotting fluff. Crossposted to AO3!

After months of hard work by Ishgardians and outsiders alike, the Firmament lies finished: the last of its homes ready to welcome the indigent of the Brume; its new businesses awaiting eager customers; and the warmth of Snowsoak prepared to soothe the aches and pains of its residents.

They’ve already had one impromptu party...time for an encore!

---

Hoarfrost Hall cast a long shadow over the Firmament as the sun set, the welkin overhead shading from gold to rose to inky blue with the first of the stars beginning to twinkle into existence far to the east. The image of the Hall’s belltower crept down the Abacus, ever closer to the crowd gathering at the far end of Saint Roelle’s Dais, but the growing gloom was offset by the work of the lamplighters, steadily making their way from Featherfall to the New Nest and Eastern Risensong, and the warm glow of candles and hearthfires spilling from the windows of newly-occupied homes. A low susurrus of noise echoed from the Dais as the assembly talked amongst themselves, the sound broken by the occasional bright peal of laughter or the strident twang of a violin being forced back into tune.

Synnove leaned on the railing overlooking the Dais, chin propped in her hand as she watched the Risensong Players warm up for their encore concert. The piano wasn’t Rereha’s usual choice of instrument—she was fonder of violin and lute and harp—but she had cracked her knuckles and thrown herself into that first practice before the first concert with relish, pulling a swirling song from the instrument even as she had complained about being horrifically rusty, the show-off. And better Rere than herself.

She shuddered. Just because she could hear aether as music did not mean that she had any talent or inclination for the art. And wouldn’t that have been the omen, a Warrior of Light and participating skybuilder mucking up the Firmament’s celebratory concert?

At least Rere could say she had participated during the Restoration; her creative talents lay strictly with music and storytelling, but she could plane wood into lumber.

She caught the sound of footsteps coming up behind her, and Synnove turned around in curiosity—and smiled. “Fancy meeting you here,” she drawled.

Aymeric, dressed down in simple leathers, laughed softly as he came to stand beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Synnove pushed herself to her tiptoes to kiss his cheek—he beamed at her, as pleased as any knight when their love bestowed their favor—while he said, “I hope this time I’m not too late!”

“Just in time, my love,” she said fondly, leaning into him. “They’re finishing warm ups, by the sound of it.”

Her knight pressed a kiss into her hair, causing her to beam in turn, and they settled into comfortable silence, looking out to the Dais as a similar hush fell on the crowd. Synnove could vaguely see familiar forms in the press of people, even at this distance: Uncle Edmont with Artoirel (no doubt still wearing that expression of bewildered delight at having his own composition as the showcase of these concerts) and Honoroit; the Haillenarte siblings clustered close to where Francel sat at his piano, radiating pride so fiercely they nearly flavored the aether of the Firmament with it; Heron, off to the side so she wouldn’t block anyone’s view, Amandina and Roksana perched on either shoulder and Arvide with his jaunty beret beside her. Alakhai lurked among a group of Forgotten Knight staff and regulars and Tailfeather hunters at the back of the crowd, and not far from there, Lucia successfully snuck up on Hilda and her Hounds.

(Nobles, commoners, outsiders, even a few of the dragonets who perched on streetlamps and statues. The sight of so many disparate peoples coming together set a warmth in her chest.)

Even this far from the Risensong Players, anticipation made the air nearly hum, no less potent than it had been for the noon show, and Synnove drew in an expectant breath along with Aymeric beside her as the Players raised their instruments or bows to the ready. And then—

—the first notes from Rereha and Francel’s pianos rang out, and their fellows—Handeloup and Emmanellain still on flute, Elaisse and Lizbeth still on violin, and Potkin and Augebert still on cello—joined the symphony.

For all that she didn’t consider herself musical, Synnove found herself humming along, and both felt and heard Aymeric do so, too. She recognized some of the melody Artoirel had used as part of a popular Halonic hymn, but rather than the martial or dirge-like tones of the versions she had heard when she had first come to Ishgard, it had been transformed into something happy and brilliant and celebratory and hopeful. The Firmament was practically giddy with the music, its ambient aether overwhelmed…or perhaps it was harmonizing instead.

Aymeric drew away from her, and she twisted around to look at him in surprise that quickly morphed into delight when he bowed and held out his hand to her, smiling fit to burst all the while. “May I have this dance, my lady?”

Synnove took his hand with a grin and replied, “My lord, it would be my honor.”

He pulled her close, his other arm going around her waist as she brought her other hand to his shoulder, and he dropped a kiss on her nose. As she giggled, he twirled them around, turning her giggles into breathless laughter. They made up the steps as they went along, an awful mix of a minuet and a rigaudon, nearly tripping over their own feet, Synnove’s laughter becoming inelegant snorting cackles and Aymeric snickering into her hair. Over the sounds of their mirth, Synnove could hear the crowd clapping along with the music, and out of the corner of her eye she spotted the movement of other spontaneous dancers.

Aymeric and Synnove collided to a halt as the song ended with a final flourish and the crowd cheered, pressing their foreheads together as they tried to catch their breath between residual giggles. The air between was white from their panting, and she was about to suggest they go to try one of the new food and drink stalls in Featherfall for something hot when the cheery twang of a fiddle rang out across the Dais.

They turned their heads, and even from here they could both see Rereha had abandoned the white piano in favor of her beloved violin, and her bow whipped across the strings to begin a popular reel that was quickly picked up by the other Players, flutes and cellos and piano. Another raucous cheer went up from the crowd, and without prompting, they began to clear a large, open area where lines of dancers quickly formed of both Ishgardians and skybuilders; couples like Lucia and Hilda were hand-in-hand, and friends and family dragged loved ones into the merry scrum. The hulking form of Marcelloix, shaking his head and hunching his shoulders, was easy to pick out, and though the person leading him determinedly through the crowd to the lines couldn’t be seen, there was no doubt in Synnove’s mind that it was Audaine. Those that weren’t lining up to dance instead clapped in time, and in a few more beats, the dancers had begun to dip and spin and whirl about one another in a fast-paced cotillion.

“Turning it into a proper party, this time,” Synnove laughed softly. “Shall we join them?”

Aymeric kissed her temple. “In a little while,” he said. “I’d like to have you to myself for a bit; I’ve barely seen hide nor hair of you in the past sennights.”

“That likely could have been mitigated if a certain someone hadn’t been holed up in parliamentary meetings for whole days at a time…”

“Now that, my love,” he said as they began to dance again in a proper waltz, turning up his nose in faux affront, “is unkind and unjust.”

“But not untrue!”

Their teasing continued as they danced, stepping lightly as the laughter of the crowd and the joy of the music echoed from the Dais. They were coming to the end of the song and slowly twirling towards the Abacus to head to the Dais proper, when—

[Oh! Oh! Is that dancing?!]

The pair glanced up in surprise at the voice that rang out, just in time to see Ehll Tou swoop out of the lamp-studded gloom to gracefully backwing and land a few fulms away. Hautdilong, in a boy-sized fleece-lined leather jacket popular with airship pilots, slid off her back and pushed his flying goggles up to the top of his head, blinking rapidly against the light. His dragon friend, meanwhile, dashed over to the railing, placing her dexterous front hands on the stone and leaning forward with an excited, gravelly trill.

“Oh, goodness,” Hautdilong said, looking out at Saint Roelle’s Dais with wide eyes. “What did we miss? Ehll Tou and I were visiting Gullinbursti and the moogles at Bahrr Lehs the past few days.”

“We finished the Skybuilders’ Monument,” Synnove said, grinning down at the boy when he looked up at her, mouth dropping open. She fought the urge to burst out laughing when Hautdilong’s gaze slid from her to the man next to her and he registered just with whom she had been dancing, and saw Aymeric give a brief half-bow to the lad in acknowledgement. “To make a long story short, a few of the residents wanted to put together a thank you for Francel for his work in overseeing the restoration, and put together a music troupe that performed for the first time earlier today. This,” she gestured at the reforming lines of dancers and the swelling crowd as the Risensong Players began a new song, “is the encore!”

“That explains why I saw Lord Tarresson begin to pack for a trip just as we left this morning!” Hautdilong said. “Someone must have sent him word; he had been speaking to us of how excited he was to see the Firmament finished.”

Ehll Tou suddenly barreled over in the manner of a dragon who sometimes forgot she was much bigger than she used to be, skidding to a halt before she could topple into her two-legged friends. [I want to learn to dance like a child of man!] she said, hopping from foot to foot and wearing her wide, excited smile. [Will you teach me? Please?]

Synnove blinked, momentarily stunned, but it was Aymeric who recovered first. “It would be our honor, Sky Lady,” he said warmly. “Perhaps one of the circle dances to start?”

[I have no idea what that is,] Ehll Tou said, her smile still in place. [But it sounds like fun, so yes!]

“You’ll have to teach me, too, lover-boy,” Synnove teased good-naturedly, poking him in the arm. “You, Hersande, and Baptistaux taught me quadrilles and other court dances, but none of the properly fun ones.”

“Then we will correct that deficiency posthaste,” he said cheerfully. “In fact... Master Hautdilong?”

The boy whipped his head around to Aymeric. “Ah, yes, Lord Speak—er, Ser—” The poor thing had the look of the suddenly nervous and overwhelmed.

“Just ‘Aymeric,’ is fine, especially among friends,” her knight said with a broad wink. Hautdilong slowly smiled back, while Aymeric continued: “Would you happen to be familiar at all with Coerthan circle dances? Particularly the ones from Eastern Coerthas like the branle?”

“I am!” Hautdilong said. “My mother is from the Eastern Lowlands and I was fortunate to travel with her to her home village for the spring planting festivals before the Calamity.”

“My own mama was from the Eastern Highlands,” Aymeric said. “And there’s just enough similarity in some of the town traditions that I believe we’ll manage to teach the ladies well enough. And perhaps some of our other friends, too?”

At that last, he raised his voice, calling out in the shadows, and a with a whoop, a gaggle of children came pelting up the Abacus and rounded the corner to their overlook. Synnove recognized Maelie, Noalle, and some of the Rolanberry Fields children—Lycelle, Peyraquile, and Julchiezain at the forefront—among the group, and following them were a handful of the shier dragonets whose names she had yet to learn. She had been so intent on Aymeric and the music and their mutual joy that she had completely missed the audience they had acquired.

Hautdilong was beaming and, without prompting, began organizing the group of Ishgardian and Dravanian children into a proper circle, with Ehll Tou and her cousins obediently tucking their wings close to avoid knocking other dancers off balance at his suggestion. Synnove dutifully allowed herself to herded elsewhere, exchanging a grin with Aymeric as she was shuffled into the circle between a blue dragonet on her left, who stood on tippy toe to ensure she could properly reach, and Julchiezain on her right. Synnove took a moment to ruffle Julchiezain’s hair—the boy tried to duck around Maelie on his own right to get away from it, but Maelie deftly dodged in turn and shoved him back into his spot and Synnove’s reach with a giggle—before her attention was drawn to the little dragonet tugging at the bottom hem of her vest.

“Hello, little one,” Synnove said, bending down so her face was at level with the dragonet’s. “What can I do for you?”

[My name is Ahm Sorn,] she said shyly, and Synnove melted only a little bit at the sweet, fluting notes of her mental voice. [May we teach this dance to the moogles and our other friends when we return home?]

“You absolutely may!” Synnove said with a smile. “Dances like this are the kind to be shared.”

Little Ahm Sorn made a small, purring little burble in the back of her throat. Synnove’s heart skipped a beat, but she absolutely did not gurgle and try to yank the dragonet into a cuddle. Aymeric shot Synnove a warning look anyway, which she ignored with only a slight pout as she stood up straight once more. She wasn’t actually going to forcibly adopt every sweet little dragonet that crossed her path!

(…She would ask Ehll Tou later who Ahm Sorn’s dam was, and if her dam would like an occasional minder for her daughter.)

Finally, once everyone was settled and hands and paws firmly linked, they all turned to Aymeric expectantly. He smiled at them all and said, “All right, the first set of movements goes like so…”

The next handful of bells were spent stumbling, tripping, and laughing their way through multiple circle dances, most of them Coerthan, until Aymeric made a sly, off-hand comment about Gyr Abanian dances that had the group of children clamoring for Synnove to teach them what she knew. Then Ehll Tou took lead to show them a grounded version of the fluttering, hopping dances that the moogles and dragons of Bahrr Lehs performed, and finally, as children always did, they took turns in making up new dances from what they had learned, until their laughter nearly drowned out the music soaring out from the edge of the Dais.

But all good things came to an end, and eventually the children began to droop with exhaustion and the party wound down. They fit in one last circle dance—a bit too slow for the song the Players were performing to end the encore show, but easier on tired feet wanting to shuffle rather than skip—and finished to the applause of parents and guardians come to take their charges home. They dispersed to all corners of the Firmaments, though most headed south into the New Nest; Noalle passed out almost as soon as her father picked her up, her cheek pillowed on his scaly green shoulder, and Marcelloix and Audaine fell into easy conversation with Rasequin, Gontrandoix, and Pehainel for the trek home while Lycelle, Julchiezain, and Peyraquile helped herd their fellow orphans along, with the older children each carrying one of the smaller ones piggyback. Ehll Tou crouched down to help Hautdilong onto her back, and they—and Ahm Sorn and the other dragonets—waved goodbye before winging off into the night for the sanctuary of Ehll Tou’s workshop roost.

Synnove and Aymeric collected the twins from Heron, off to the Forgotten Knight with Alakhai, and they meandered arm-in-arm up Quill’s Trace while Roksana and Amandina dozed in the crook of Synnove’s opposite arm. When they reached Bright Ballad’s Passage, without saying anything, they simultaneously turned to look out over the Firmament.

The district glowed with golden light, a mirror to the river of stars spangling the black velvet of the sky above. The soft blue glimmer of the new aetheryte system provided spots of color among the shadows, and the faint shapes of people passing in front of windows could be spotted in the houses closest to the Passage. And even with midnight nearing, the Mendicant’s Court still bustled with the night owls of the skybuilder corps, hard at work crafting goods for the residents of the Firmament or lifting off in manacutters from the Skysteel Workshop for the Diadem.

Sighing quietly, a sense of pride and satisfaction settling in her chest, Synnove leaned her head against Aymeric’s shoulder. Her knight kissed the top of her head before resting his cheek on her hair, moving his arm to wrap around her waist and squeeze tightly.

“Even seeing it,” Aymeric said, voice hushed and reverent, “it’s difficult to believe the work is finished. The repairs to the Brume and Foundation are still ongoing, of course, but knowing so many of my countrymen no longer need to worry about where to sleep at night…”

“It’s difficult to fathom the hopes for one’s home coming to fruition within your own lifetime,” Synnove replied, leaning into him. “I never thought I’d see Ala Mhigo free. I never thought a cure for tempering would be found. But here we are: griffon flags fly in Ala Mhigo; capture by a primal is no longer a death sentence; and Ishgard stands at peace and ready to do whatever is necessary to take care of her people.”

Her knight sighed, as satisfied sounding as she felt. “Our star is far from perfect, and its people less so,” he said. “But by Halone, it’s wonderful to see them try, and succeed.”

Synnove hummed her agreement and together, they turned, the Firmament at their backs, and wandered home.

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #ishgard restoration #ishgardian restoration #oc: synnove greywolfe #aymeric de borel #aymeric x wol #aymeric x synnove #ehll tou #hautdilong #dt's writing #IT DONE

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ryvgvji · 5 years ago

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Surprise! | Eijirou Kirishima

Happy late birthday to my baby boy Kiripima!!❤️✨

genre: fluff with slight smut

warnings: lap dance? light cursing, suggestive writing (this falls into the fem.reader region, but all are welcome to read. i tried my best to not make it steer toward writing for women alone)

summary: you decide to throw your boyfriend a surprise birthday party and invite some old classmates and friends over to celebrate all together.

this is probably the longest post i’ve ever made. i really hope y’all enjoy

(apologies for any grammar errors)

today was a special special day. it’s your boyfriend Kirishima's birthday. for your boyfriend of many loving and happy years, you decided that you wanted to show him your appreciation for him. with him being a pro hero and you working as a first responder, you never got to celebrate special events like this with him because he’d often be caught up with patrols and saving civilians. but this year you were determined to change that. last week you contacted your old classmates and close friends of you both and let them know you wanted to throw him a surprise party, instantly they said they will be there. so you rented out a VIP section in the most famous club in Japan and contacted the club’s manager to let them know about the event and asked if you could give a playlist to the DJ. it was an easy process and everything was set.

you had woken up early enough to make Kirishima and yourself some breakfast. you made waffles with bacon and sausages. almost finished with breakfast, you heard someone’s feet dragging across the floor from around the corner. you saw a messy-haired Kirishima rubbing his eyes yawning with a slumped over posture. “‘g’ morning baby, how come you up so early?” he walked into the kitchen, coming up behind you placing his head on your shoulders kissing your cheek. “good morning handsome. i’m just making breakfast for the best birthday boy in the world.” you say as you place the food into plates and turned off the stove. turning around you faced your boyfriend who still had some drool on the corner of his mouth. you placed a kiss to his lips and smiled. “y/n you didn’t have to do that.” he pouted. “but i wanted to. come on, let’s eat.”

picking up your plates, you guys walked over to the dining table and took a seat beside each other. no wasting anytime Kirishima picked up his fork and started to eat. he hummed out in approval as he swilled down the food. you smiled at him before picking up your fork. “i’m glad you enjoying it Kiri.” you guys are together, occasionally having small talk about work and such.

“you know, i almost forgot that today was my birthday.” he laughed as he gulped his orange juice. “man you're getting old, baby.” you teased him. he laughed leaning his head back slightly, “please, don’t remind me cutie.” you smiled looking away feeling butterflies flutter in your stomach. Kirishima notices this and turns to you taking your face into his hand so you look at him. “what’s up cutie?” his eyes focused on your face. you smiled once again. he was so breathtaking that you couldn’t help it. “what?” he’s also smiling showing a couple of sharp teeth. “your amazing.” you sighed looking into his crimson eyes. a light blush spreads to his cheek and he leans in only inches from your face. “not as amazing and perfect as you though better half. you make everything better in life since you walked into it. you make me feel like the best man in the world. you make me wanna work hard, be the best version of myself, y’ know? i love you cutie.” you could see your vision getting more and more blurry with each word that he whispers to you. you let the tears slip down your cheek as he quickly wipes them away with his thumb. “Kiri, i’m supposed to be sweet talking you, not the other way around.” you chuckled holding your hand on top of his. he kisses your lips, laughing. “oh please. go and fresh up for work, i’ll take care of the dishes.”

you now at work you were working on some paperwork as the day started to slowly end. many patients are seen and a few lectures with your colleagues are held. you had received a couple of cards from the small kids that came in for a check-up to give to Kirishima. it was such a cute interaction with them. it makes you smile when you think about all the little kids your boyfriend has inspired and encouraged to do their best in everything. he was just perfect. simple as that. the alarm on your apple watch went off signaling that it’s time for you to go back home. at the same time, you received a call from your good friend Mina and your best friend. “girl, we’re about five minutes away.” your best friend spoke. “okay. i’m just logging out now. i’ll be there soon.” “okay, cya, much!” you hung up that phone then packing up your stuff and exiting your office. “bye guys, i’ll see you next week!” you called it to the others in the office. “bye y/n!” they chimed. “be sure tell Kirishima happy birthday for us and give him a treat.” one of your acquaintances said. “sure will!!” you laughed and waved hopping onto the elevator.

you walked out of the establishment saying goodbye to the security guards. you saw your best friend’s car right in the front and hurriedly walked over. “y/n!!” they exclaimed. “yes?!” you giggle, mocking their tone of voice. “you ready to surprise your man?” “yes, i am!!” “then let’s go!” Mina cheers. your friend put the car in drive and start your journey home.

arriving at your apartment building, you park at the front and get out of the car. straight through the front entrance into elevators, you press on your floor number and go up. you open your apartment door, stepping inside and turning on the light with your friends close behind. “okay lemme go and take a shower. you guys can do whatever you want.” you put your keys and bag down on a chair nearby then proceeding to your bathroom.

after a nice good shower, you walk into your shared room to see Mina and your bestie sitting on the bed watching TV while chatting. “you guys know what are you wearing?” you asked them as you apply lotion to your body. “yeah i have it with me in my bag.” Mina spoke as she looked through her phone. “same here. lemme go get it.” your friend exits the room before turning with all your bags at hand. “your bags were out there so i just picked them up.” she hands Mina her bag and places yours on the stand by your TV. after putting on undergarments you went through your bag to see a message from Kiri. you slide it open and read it.

My Hero 💫❤️ - hey cutie, i’m almost finished with patrol i’ll be home in an hour and a half ❤️

you smile and text a quick “okay❤️” then shutting off your phone. “y’all it’s time. he said he’s leaving work in an hour and a half.” “alright! let’s get this show on the road.” your friend unpacks her bag taking out her clothes and takes out some makeup. Mina does the same. you go into your closet reaching for your outfit. for a little more fun you turn on your TV to YT and play some music while getting ready. you tell Mina to shoot Bakugou a text and tell him to get ready and your friend starts on your makeup. “yes ma’am!”

as your friend put the finishing touches on your eyebrows and lips, you hear your phone ring. Mina reads you the caller ID telling you that it’s Bakugou. you take the phone and answer. “hey Bakugou, wassup?” “yo y/n, i just finished my patrol and i’m in the office. Kirishima is still on patrol so i’m waiting for him. you guys almost finished?” he questioned you. “i just finished my makeup so now i’m going to get dressed. do you know how longer Kiri will be patrolling?” on the other end Bakugou let’s out a sigh. “i don’t know maybe about 20 more minutes.” he grumbles. “but I'm gonna go and take a shower and change. i guess you lemme know when you guys are finally finished painting your faces with clown makeup and are going to leave.” you laughed. “it’s not clowning makeup! aight bet i’ll text you.” “m’kay, bye idiot.” “bye nasty.” the call ended and you got up from the chair to go look in your mirror. “this is good! you should do this for a living!” you praised your best friend’s work of art. “oh stop it. i’m glad you like it.” you nod and smile. “okay now i’m going to do my makeup, you go get dressed up.” she rushed you. you took your clothes and entered your bathroom.

“are y’all ready?” you come into the room in your outfit. you had on a deep blue, almost black like a strapless dress that was open through in a V shape with a string looped in it. you paired that with a denim distressed crop jacket, some black heels, and your rhinestone purse that had a strap. to top it all off you wore the matching earring and necklace that Kirishima had gotten you for your anniversary gift. “damn girl!! looking like a million fucking dollars!” your friend exclaimed checking out your outfit. “thank you.” walking over to look in the mirror you spray some good smelling perfume on and touch on up your hair. damn, you do look good. “alright. we all ready?” you asked your best friend. “mhm, Mina is all ready and is in the living room talking with Sero, Kami, and some others.” “okay, let’s get going now. Kiri should be finished with patrol now so im gonna text Bakugou and tell him that we’re leaving. you guys can go along, i’m gonna take my car cause i still gotta pick up the cake.” you reassured her. “alright. see you in a bit hon, bye.” she leaned in and gave you a hug then leaving.

you just picked up Kirishima’s cake and was on your way to the club now. you’ve been calling all the guests and let them know that they should be at the club now and answered any questions that. as you are a few blocks away from the club, you get a call from Bakugou saying that Kirishima got out of the shower and changed into new clothes. “okay, i’m just pulling up to the club. you gonna drive here?” “yeah. also, i’m gonna pick up the extra idiots Kaminari and Sero on the way.” he explains to you. “bet. i already told Denki and Sero that when you guys are getting close to blindfold him.” “okay. see you in a bit.” with an approving hum you hung up the phone. after shutting on the car, you got out and walking into the club. instantly music fills your ears and your eyes slightly strain from the lowly dim room with different colored lights. moving deeper into the club by the VIP, people start acknowledging your presence cheered and wooed for you.

“you're finally here y/n, i was wondering what was taking you so long.” your best friend comes and takes the cake from you set it on the big table in front of you guys. “sorry, it was but if a drive.” you put your phone in your purse and onto your shoulder. walking closer you see many familiar faces. Midoriya, Todoroki, Iida, and Uraraka were chatting when they saw you and waved to you. you saw Tokoyami, Tsuyu, Jirou and Hagakure sat next to each other on their phones. glancing around more you notice Shinsou, your old teacher Aizawa, Hawks, Tetsutetsu all spread out minding their own business. walking into the booth to say hi to everyone, you see two people who you haven’t seen in so long. you other two besties. you grinned and slightly jogged over to them pulling them into hugs. “it’s been way too long. i’m so glad that y’all could make it!” you smiled. “of course!” one of them spoke. “anything for you y/n.” the other said. “i think this is gonna be a great night. this was a good idea y/n.” “i know right, this night is gonna be legendary.”

after a long chit chat and catching up with your besties and classmates, you moved to talk to the manager about the situation and thank them once again for this being able to happen. “sure thing Ms. y/n. Mr. Eijirou is a very lucky man. i hope he enjoys his time.” you thanked them before ending the conversation and walking to the DJ to make sure that they had your playlist set. once they started to play the music you headed over to the bar to order some drinks for everyone. you return to VIP with two trays of multiple mixed drinks. “thanks.” they each mumbled as you passed them their drinks. “y/n.” you turn around and see Momo and Aoyama walking in the club. “hey!” you walked over to hug them. “how’s life been treating y’all?” “amazing. as you can see i still look good.” Aoyama playfully winked at you making you giggle. “yes, i can. what about you Momo?” “i’m just here. i recently got engaged to the love of my life.” she smiled revealing to you the ring on her finger. “oh my god, congrats girl. i hope i’ll be invited to the wedding.” you poked her sides. she laughs, “yes you are dear, don’t worry.” “okay. well, go ahead and settle in the booth over there with everyone else. i’ll take care of drinks.” “thank you y/n.” they walked to the booth and took a seat.

after a couple of minutes and you were now dancing with some of your friends, your phone went off in your purse and you took it out. it was Bakugou calling you. “hey Bakugou.” “we’re here and he’s blindfolded.” he told you. “okay. you guys can come in now.” “alright. bye.” the called ended. you hurried over to the DJ requesting that you could have the mic. “hello, everyone. Bakugou is here with Kirishima. do you think we could be extra quiet and surprise him?” you questioned everyone in the club. they all cheered and stopped their chatter. the DJ turned down the music as you gave them back the microphone. just then the door for the club opened letting in the cool breeze of the evening as four men walked in all laughing and slightly pushing each other. they quickly silence themselves due to enter the room.

“bro, what the hell. where did y’all bring me?” Kirishima spoke. you walked over to him. from your heels clicking on the wooden tiles he could tell somebody was around. “who is that?” he asked. smiling you reach up and pushed the makeshift blindfold that around his head up to on his forehead. immediately his eyes widen. “y/n?” “surprise!” you shouted along with everyone. Kirishima was so astonished. “w-wha- how?” he looks around seeing familiar faces. “this is for you baby.” you reach and wrap your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. he wraps him around you at the same time kissing you back deeply. pulling away you could see tears on his cheek as he looks you in your eyes. you use your thumbs to wipe them away. “baby doesn’t cry. it’s okay.” you softly massaged his cheeks. “y/n i wasn’t expecting this. y-your too good for me.” “aww, Kiri. come on, some people want to see you.” you lead him over to the VIP booth to see everyone.

so far the night was going great. many drinks and shots were ordered, some people already slightly tipsy. others just enjoyed the free chips that were passed out. you though. you were celebrating yourself. a whole lot. you and your besties along with Mina and Hagakure were all on the dance floor. y’all are dancing around having fun. then the song Instruction challenge that was on your playlist, starts to play. you get so hype and your besties know what’s about to happen. because you guys were being loud, you guys earned the attention of a couple of other people on the floor and they started to spread out making space for you. you also caught some of your friend's eyes like Todoroki, Iida, Hawks, etc.

as the beat played you slowly removed your jacket as you move your hips slowly whining before going into position to twerk. Mina and your best friend took their phones out to record. you also removed your heels and handed it to one of the girls. this drew even more attention from people and including your boyfriend. “what is she doing?” he eyed you in curiosity. “oh i know.” Momo and Aoyama laughed to themselves. even more confused, he moved closer to get a better look.

when the song said “just sit down, just bounce pon de dick.” everyone's eyes went wide, some people face like Midoriya, Kaminari and Shinsou got a bit red. they were not expecting that. to make circumstances even worst for them, you started to twerk. you moved your ass up and down to the beat of the song. your dress moving against you adding that extra jiggle from the slightly loose fabric.

your friends sang along to the lyric hyping you up so much. “so manage it, manage it!” they cheered as you threw it in a circle. “pon de one side, pon de one side, kotch pon de one side, one side.” you bent over bending your right knee to support yourself as you stretch your left leg. you reach for your left ankle to grip onto it as you moved left ass cheek. you moved it to the beat of the song.

at this point Kirishima was at a loss for words and a bit turned on the least to say. this was new to him. you could move like that? then straighten your leg so your bent over, you shake your ass when the song said “move de batty jaw now.” one of your friends started to throw money onto your ass and smack you on your ass. “oh my god y/n.” Sero laughed, totally unfazed by what’s happening. when they thought it was the end, “knock de pussy pon de damn concrete.” played. you went into a split and did exactly what they said, you knocked it on the concrete. twice. when the song ended your friend cheered for you and the other on the dance floor clapped. you smiled and thanked them before beginning to gather your stuff together and walk over to the booth.

“whew, that was a lot.” you breathed dabbing your head with a napkin before taking a sip of the water Kirishima was drinking. “you have no idea.” Shinsou spoke scratching the back of his neck with raised eyebrows. you laughed knowing exactly what he meant. “my bad. that’s just my song.” you shrugged with a smile. you look at Kirishima who was watching you. “yes Kirishima? your staring” you taunted him. “huh? oh, uh. nothing.” he frantically explained. laughing at his cute response you place your hand in his hair giving him little pets. “come on, let’s have some fun!” Mina exclaimed to everyone. Uraraka, Tsuyu, Aoyama, Momo, and Kaminari get up with no hesitation, following over to the dance floor. others like Todoroki, Shinsou, and Tokoyami stayed sitting down and watched. “would you like to join me, birthday boy?” you smirked as you outstretched a hand towards Kirishima. he accepted. “yes i would!”

you’ve been dancing for a while now with everyone and having the time of your life with your boyfriend’s arms around your waist, not letting up. dancing from songs like the Cha Cha Slide and teaching Kirishima how to Kontrol by Maleek Berry and whining into Kirishima as he matched your movements going low to the floor anytime you got lower. you even danced to La Romana by Bad Bunny with the Latino king himself Sero. you even caught one of your friends going crazy throwing it back on him as he caught it. everyone went crazy videoing them and hyping them up. the club was hype, and the excitement was far from ending as you had something planned for Kirishima at the end.

now back at the booth, telling Kiri that you need to go to the bathroom you excused yourself and went for the cake that you had bought. with the help of Todoroki, you successfully got to bring the cake to the table. you had placed the candles on it and lit them with a lighter. you placed the cake in front of Kirishima and placed a kiss on his cheek saying the words, “happy birthday baby.” he smiled as everyone cheered for him and wished him well. “go on! make a wish!” Aoyama urged him. taking your hand in his, he closed his eyes then blew out the candles. “thank you.” he kissed your hand. you smile, “anything for you baby.” “alright let’s have some cake!!” Tesutesu cheered. you feed Kirishima the cake, teasing as you smeared icing on his nose.

it’s been a while since you guys been sitting and chatting. you decided it was the best time for your surprise now as it was well close to 3 am. some people like Bakugou, Shinsou, and Deku were sleeping. some chatter was still going on but it was minimal. so you inquired of Mina and Kaminari to help you out with setting up. you told Mina to take care of the song with the DJ and Kaminari to place a chair in the middle of the dance floor for Kirishima to sit in. you woke up those how were sleeping and explained to everyone that you had something in store for Kirishima. “what else is there to do idiot?” Bakugou grumbles, upset that you woke him up from slumber. “promise me, you’ll want to see this.” you walk to the bathroom to get yourself ready and wait for your cue.

“what’s happening?” Kirishima asked his friend Kaminari as he was nudging him to the chair on the dance floor. “sh, just enjoy bro!” he gave him a thumbs up and went back to where everyone else was. “can i please have everyone’s attention.” Mina called through the mic by the DJ station. Kirishima landed his attention on her. “Kirishima, today’s a very special day. and we all have that we were able to spend it with you.” she started. Kirishima leans back in the chair with a smile on his face mouthing a ‘thank you’ to her. “and as the night is coming to a close, your sexy ass girlfriend named y/n has a show for you right now.” now everyone has their phones out at recording. “performing to Ride by Ciara, the big booty, big titty, make you cream your pants, y/n y/l/n!!!”

the song starts and you walked out of the bathroom that was by the bar. Kirishima turned to see you slowly walking out. your hand grazing against the counter as you seductively watched him walking down the bar. taking a strawberry that was in a cup, you placed it in your mouth bit sucking on the juice that was in the fruit. you placed the stem in the glass before slowing walking over to Kirishima, right leg in front of the other. the sound of your heels against the floor echo in the room with music.

reaching to Kirishima, he looks at you with wide eyes. you go behind him, you move your hand to grip his face in place a kiss to his lips then walking around in front of him. “i can do it big. i can do it long. i can do it whenever or however you want.” you lip-sync the song as you parted Kirishima’s leg placing yourself in between them. you continue to sing. “i market it so good, they can’t wait till you try me.” knelt, lean your face dangerously close to his crotch and roll your body before standing up straight. you turn around to face the crowd and you walked a few inches from him. you bend over with your back arched and your hands on your knees. you whine your hips being sure to slowly move in circles occasionally toking your hips to the side. sliding down to the floor with your ass in the air you continue to circle your hips. “they love the way i ride it. they love the way i ride it.”

Kirishima watching your every move, feeling very hot now having a full view of your ass in his face. his bottom lip found their way between his teeth as he didn’t let his eyes off you like your hip land flat on the floor in a fast motion causing your ass to jiggle. you turn around on your back, slowly moving your upper half off the floor until you sat up. with your arms grazing over your body brushing over your breast. you give them a slight squeeze and made a lewd face that makes Kirishima’s head loll back to the side as he made a pained expression showing his desperation. you stood to your feet and took your shoes off as a part of the dance. “i do it to him right, it’s like mmh-mmh good.” you bend your knees going down so you're on your toe and open your legs so Kirishima can see. you go into a split from here and move up and down.

“yes y/n!!!” Mina cheered for you. your eyes stay on Kirishima as you blew him a kiss. he smiled and motions you over to him. you crawl on all fours you stop before Kirishima. you move your hands up his body to his neck as he tilts your head up and looks at you. “baby, i need you.” you settle both your hands on his arm and take his fingers into mouth humming around them. “shit.” he swears.

pulling away you inch away a bit before putting your head down to the floor. using your arms to brace yourself, you use your legs to push off the ground so that you are on your head. you open your legs and move them gradually making them wave. leaning back you rest your legs on Kirishima’s thighs. he comes down positioning a hand behind your head and one around your waist pulling your body up. you encircle your arms around his neck having him extra close to your face. “Woo!!!” Kaminari and Hagakure shouted for you two as everyone roared as well.

“he love the way i ride it. he love the way i ride it.” you sang to Kirishima as you move your hips against him. you grind onto him. Kirishima lets out a groan. “holy fuck baby.” he pulls you closer by the arm around your waist and bucks up into you, using the hand on the back of your neck to pull you into a needy kiss. you kiss him back moving your tongue against his. you could feel his dick cock hardened through his jeans. it pressed right against your now soaked panties under your dress.

you move legs so that your feet were also set on his thighs. moving your lips down to his neck you still grind against him. you hear him let out a breathy moan and lean his head back, eyes squeezed shut. “y/n... i-i can’t.” he whines and moves his hand down to your ass. you twerk your ass against his hand. he smacks your ass and grabs it, using it as leverage to grind you harder down on him and buck up into you.

“you like this?” you could hear him whimper out a ‘yes’ as he still grinds your down onto him you pull away so that you sit upright on his hard member. you twerk your ass and smile at him. you lightly bounce on him causing him to slightly set off his quirk. pulling you back into him, he places your head on his shoulder and moves his hands under your dress.

without even thinking he moves your dress up so that your ass is on full exhibition for all to see. “YESSSS Y/N!!!!” Aoyama cheers for you. Kirishima lands a hard smack to your ass feeling the skin jiggle and you flinch in his lap with a moan in his ear. he bunches your panties and pulls it between your ass. “this is all mine. tonight you’re gonna get it.” he says. you lean into his lips giving him a faint kiss.

you fix yourself and moved so that you were standing again. swiveling around you strut away before coming to a stop. you reach under your dress and removed your panties. you threw it towards Kirishima and walked away. everyone went wild. then the music ended. “give it up for y/n!” Mina spoke through the mic. everyone clapped for you and you gleam taking a bow. “thank you all for making this night a memorable and happy night for my sexy warrior Eijirou Kirishima.” you direct toward Kirishima who hand your panties in hand and watching you with hooded eyes. “i love you baby.” you said to him.

“y/n that was fricken amazing! look.” Hagakure showed you her phone. you watched as you and Kirishima grind against each, kissing and moaning. you felt your face heat with embarrassment. “oh my god. i did that.” you laughed and hid your face in your hands. “girl there’s nothing to be afraid of, we all know what goes on behind the close door.” Aoyama leaned in his hands and winked at you. “and from the looks of it, Kirishima appeared to be enjoying himself as well.” your friend implied at the phone to when Kirishima had rolled your dress up and slapped your ass. “by the way, nice ass.” Mina winked at you.

“Kirishima bro how does it feel?” Kaminari and Sero surround Kirishima as he walked back to the booth. “you have no idea bro.” he smirks looking at you as you talked with your friends. “dude you were going all out. grabbing her ass like it’s no one’s business.” Sero shows him the video. he watches as his hands grabbed on your ass grinding into you. he could feel his dick twitch against his thigh from the view of your ass. “you look a bit excited there shitty hair.” Bakugou spoke suggestively. Kirishima moved his hands to cover his prominent boner. “oh, he’s ready.” Jirou laughed. “Kiri’s gonna get some tonight!” Tetsutetsu chimed.

“babe, you ready to go home?” Kirishima came up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist. you shiver as his teeth rake against your ear. “oop, y/n. looks like you won’t be able to walk for days.” your best friend wooed. you only laugh, jokingly telling them to shut up. “yeah. you ready?” you replied to Kirishima. he nods his head nuzzled into your neck. “okay. lemme get my panties to put back on.” you ran your hands through his hair. “no i’ll think i’ll keep it. makes things more interesting.” he says to you. your friends hear and squeal. “y/n is getting fucked senseless tonight!!” Mina hollers. he looks at her from your neck. “you have no idea.” turning you around his arms, he picks you up and wraps your legs on his midsections. he slaps your ass and kisses your neck. he gathers your belongings and says goodbyes and goodnights to everyone, walking out the door with you.

you all know what happened after that

part 2

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keelywolfe · 4 years ago

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FIC: Pity in Short Supply (baon)

Summary: In the aftermath of the kidnapping, Red has a few thoughts. There's a reason he's always called 'em liabilities.

Tags: Kustard, Domestic, Established Relationship, Sans/Underfell Sans, Aftermath of a kidnapping, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Underfell Papyrus/Underswap Papyrus, Background Spicyhoney, A Touch of Lemon Goodness

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

By the time the sun was thinking about hopping over the horizon and getting started on its daily workout, the warehouse parking lot was starting to clear out. All the ambulances were long since gone, the only one of ‘em with a person in the back was the guy who was still stuck in that weird foam shit.

Red didn’t believe in karma; he’d spent much too long eating shit himself for that, but if there was any lingering threads of justice still clinging stubbornly in the air, it’d take a long, painful time to get that fucker loose.

Most of the Embassy Security teams were heading back with all the evidence stacked in their backseats and Red was standing in a shadowed corner away from the streetlights watching them pack it in. Some of ‘em would start working on interviewing the kidnappers who didn’t need a few hours to cut them loose from a little chemical warfare, along with the agents the FBI shipped their way. Some were gonna work on getting shit together for the inevitable interviews with the kidnappees sometime this afternoon. Red had some pull and plenty of strings to yank, but even he wasn’t gonna be able to hold back the tide of questions much longer than that.

There was probably gonna be a fit pitched somewhere along the line that he’d sent his trouble twins home to sleep before getting much info, but Red would have to hula that hoop when it rolled in. Wasn’t only about Stretch, it was about his bro; there was only so much the boss could take before he slammed face-first into his breaking point and he’d been skating a little too fucking close tonight for Red’s taste. Better to let him take his pretty little liability home, clean him up, spend a li’l time rubbing his scent all over him again like a dog in heat and wasn’t it a damn good thing none of ‘em could piss.

The last thing any of ‘em needed was his bro snapping and hauling his honey away like a shorter, skinnier, bald version fucking King Kong.

(and was the memory of his brother's bleak face as he sat there waiting for answers while Red lied out promises about getting his liability back in one piece gonna haunt his nightmares, fuck yes, 'course it was, gotta balance those books somehow, there was always a price, he'd learned that lesson fast while he was still carrying his baby bro on the streets. always a price, fucking always)

Red wasn’t too worried about losing any info, anyway. Wasn’t much chance of Stretch forgetting much, not with that eidetic memory of his. Not being able to forget was half of his fucking problems to begin with.

Out in the mostly deserted parking lot, the last couple agents were finished packing up their car, not even seeming to give him a second glance as they climbed in. ‘Seeming’ was the real shit there, to anyone who wasn’t used to watching. The driver, a deceptively slender deer Monster, their antlers cut stylishly down, paused just long enough for their eyes to flick his way. The subtlest of looks, but that was it. They didn’t make a show of asking if Red wanted a ride, didn’t play any ego trips over spotting him, just hopped into the car and sped off.

Good instincts. Red made a mental note to keep an eye on that one. Good, not great, ‘cause they didn’t notice the one standing further back behind him, the guy who took up the best shadows before Red even showed up.

He stepped up now, hands stuffed into his pockets as he shuffled his way to stand next to Red, untied shoelaces dragging on the damp asphalt. They stood there together while the first unbearable rim of sunlight crested and took the shadows with it, bathing them in painful, golden light.

Red pulled out a cigar and bit off the end, spitting it to the ground. He lit a match with a flick of his thumb and held the tip in the wavering flame. When the end was smoldering, he flicked the match into the puddle, the faint hiss of it extinguishing unheard as he asked in a cloud of exhaled smoke, “how’s it going, sansy?”

Red was looking at the empty parking lot, the puddles dotting it like a scattering of miniature lakes across a land of broken asphalt, so he didn’t see Sans shrug, but he could feel it, a ripple in the still air around them. “went like clockwork. we planned for this sort of shit, you know, planned it out for years. worked out possible sceneries with fuzzybuns, toriel, all the diplomats.” Sans’s ever-present smile widened humorousness, “even had a few for edge and stretch, guess we shoulda brainstormed on those ones a little more. don’t know if we coulda come up with that one, though. drugging him was always a contingency, but no one guessed they’d strip his ass down and lose every damn tracker on him.” Another tight shrug, one quick. cramped motion, “we’ll know better next time.”

The plume of smoke rising from Red’s cigar curled in the air, drifting like a mist in the dawn light. Red watched it and nothing else, letting his sockets fall half-closed as he followed the wispy path with his eye lights. “ain’t asking about the fucking ops. how’s it going, sansy.”

There was a long moment of silence, broken only by the rough scrape of gravel shifting under Sans’s feet as he rocked on his heels. “you know, i took up with the security department for paps,” Sans said conversationally. “wanted to keep a close eye on him when he went traipsing around the big bad world to spread the good word. back underground, that whole sentry schtick was an excuse for a paycheck, i wasn’t guarding anything but my own g and a nap.”

“yeah?” Red stuck his cigar between his teeth and bit down, tasting the scatter of soggy, bitter tobacco on his tongue as the jagged tips tore through the fragile wrapper. “that so, sweetheart?”

“yeah, that’s so, dollface,” Sans chuckled mirthlessly. “little ironic, ain’t it, that it turns out i’m good at this shit. who would’ve thought.”

“yeah, never woulda guessed a judge might not be bad at the whole diggin’ up covert info,” Red shook his head sadly, “a shock, really, that ya could put that empty skull of yers to some good use.”

“sweet talker. gonna end up sleeping downstairs with the cat you keep that shit up.”

“fuck, don’t do that,” Red shuddered. “already worried if i don’t get up fast enough to feed that bitch, she’d gnaw off my pinky toe before i wake up.”

“that picky little shit wouldn’t eat you if you rolled yourself up like sushi and slathered on caviar.” Sans hesitated, then asked, softer, “how’s stretch doing?”

“like shit.” Red didn’t bother to cushion it; his pity came sparingly and Sans could take it. “he’s got his judge all cranked up to eleven. caught a helluva glimpse of me when i got here, thought he was gonna puke on my shoes.”

Sans let out a long, ragged exhale. “that’s my fault,” he said bleakly, “i got him to hit his on switch to look for that lost kid, should’ve known he’d have a hard time shutting it down again.”

“maybe.” Red wasn’t too concerned about it. If Stretch wanted to retire and shove all that down into the dark, wasn’t any dust off his ass, but the only way he’d lose it entirely would be if someone ripped it out of him by way of a dustpan. “if those fuckers hadn’t tried to pull a limburger baby on the kid, then it woulda died back down on its own.”

This time Sans chuckle was more real, a little honest humor creeping in. “don’t let stretch hear you call him kid, he’s already got his panties twisted halfway up his spine.”

Red scoffed, tapping away the ash gathering at the tip of his cigar. “honey bun might be the same age as us, but he ain’t as old as we are. don’t matter how the universe tried to age him up.”

The sound Sans made might’ve been a hum of agreement or the juicy, hawking prelude to spitting. The sun hadn’t had a chance to chase away the evening chill and Sans’s jacket was zipped up against it. Over the tab of his zipper, nearly concealed by neckline of his hood, Red could see the glossy rim of well-oiled dark leather, the slightest glint of metal. He let himself look at it for a long moment, take a sip of dark satisfaction at seeing his collar right where it was supposed to be. Then he looked away, back across the empty, crumbling parking lot.

Sans didn’t try to touch him, only shifted his stance until their fingers brushed in a way that could pretend to be accidental, bone lightly scraping bone.

“we should get going,” Red said. The sun was climbing higher, the stars giving way to gauzy, useless clouds. At least stars were interesting, a reminder there was another Aboveground than this one, another path upward that might someday be reached. “we got a lot of shit to do downtown.”

“we do,” Sans agreed. He tipped his head in Red’s direction, slanting him a glance out of the corner of his socket. His eye lights were tinted golden by the sunrise, sly and knowing in a way that had nothing to do with magic. “want me to blow you in the stairwell before we take off?”

Red didn’t wait for him to finish, tossing his half-burned cigar into a puddle, dousing it and sending a splash of ripples through the still water. “fuck, yes.”

He followed Sans into the warehouse and in moments he was braced against the rusty handrail with his shorts around his ankles in the dust, shuddering at the feel of that hot, wet mouth around him, worshiping his cock with lovingly sinful familiarity. Every inch of his focus was taken up by that and there wasn’t room to think about a single other thing. Not even the phantom sensation of metaphorically getting flayed alive by a wild orange gaze, the unexpected, needle-sharp feel of every one of his sins digging in their spidery claws as they crawled up his spine.

He didn’t think about it at all.

-fin

#kustard #sancest #spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underfell sans #sans #by any other name

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themonkeycabal · 4 years ago

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Wandavision Ep 6 Spoilers

No really, spoilers.

Previously on Wandavision — Wanda told SWORD to shove their drones right straight up their asses, Vision woke up to the reality that his utopian sitcom life was in fact a dystopian hellscape, their children were extremely creepy, and Agnes was being bizarre as hell and super sus. In the real world, Acting Director Dick was a dick, and Darcy and Jimmy welcomed Monica into their sciencey weird-crime-fighting team. Monica also mentioned an aerospace engineer she knows, which some suggest may be the first mention of Reed Richards in the MCU. I have conflicted feelings about the Fantastic Four. Mostly I never liked them. But, I'm open to revising my opinion.

Oh, and also X-Men 'Verse Pietro showed up suddenly and that was fun.

Anyway. the roommate and I tried to sort out a timeline — so Monica unBlips and goes back to work at SWORD three weeks later. AD Dick tells us Wanda stole Vision's body nine days previously. That means, just three weeks ago Wanda was in the middle of a battle, lost her boyfriend, was Snapped, was then unsnapped to fall right into the middle of another battle. Lost THREE additional teammates. And then sometime in the following week found out a shady government agency had Vision's body and she probably went "OH HELL NO". Because that's what I would say. So she goes to SWORD, dents a few doors, takes Vision's body and swans off to New Jersey. Look, she's been through a hell of a lot in the last couple weeks, is what I'm saying. I don't blame her a tiny bit. But, also, I don't think she's entirely behind this.

10-year old boy plus video camera = the 90s. Obnoxious opening credits. But, you know, I kind of liked them (as a one off). WAYYY better than last week's.

It's Halloween, and *sigh* Billy is breaking the fourth wall and narrating to the camera. There's childish twin bickering as you expect, Tommy's the wild and crazy twin, and Billy's the buttoned up twin. And Pietro is passed out on the couch at 4 in the afternoon. Living his best life. He teasingly scares the boys, chases them around, and there's awkward child acting.

Wanda comes down the stairs in the classic Scarlet Witch costume, and says she's a Sokovian Fortune Teller. Sokovia was more wild than I realized.

Genuinely funny flashback to Wanda and Pietro trick-or-treating in Sokovia as kids, 'the year we got typhus'. lol. Was it the fish that gave them typhus? Or was that just a special treat? Wanda doubts this version of events, and Pietro suggests she suppressed the memory due to the trauma. This gives Billy the chance to tell the camera that mom's been weird since uncle Pietro turned up to crash on their couch.

Next it's Vision's turn to appear in the classic Vision costume. Yikes. Wanda thanks him for humoring her, and he says there were no other clothes in his closet and they have a very weird second where he's not playing along and she's not sure what to do, and then he breaks into sitcom character says something about "just kidding, i know how much you love mexican wrestling" like it's a luchador costume, and then there's some super weird flirting. TMI you two.

Meanwhile, Pietro is a large child and the kids love him, of course. So there's that.

Back to Wanda and Vision, she's ready to take the kids out trick-or-treating, but Vision says he can't go, he's on the neighborhood watch and must patrol the streets ever-vigilant for wild gangs of child hooligans who might TP trees. He's gone off-script and it takes Wanda a second to figure out how to play this. She says it's the boys' first Halloween so he has to be there. Pietro breaks up the almost argument and says he can be a father figure-type and he'll help with the boys. Vision's still pretty off-script but Wanda doesn't fight it but looks uncertain, and he goes off to protect the night — or early afternoon.

Pietro is a child hooligan and wants to go do hooligany things with the kids. Wanda says he doesn't have a costume and he grabs Billy and they speed off only to return dressed in classic Quicksilver duds. Well, cheap-looking, thrown together Quicksilver duds. I laughed. The hair. lol. Good one.

Outside in the real world. The Hex field is still kind of glowing red and making bad force field noises. It only started doing that when Wanda got pissed in the last ep. Oh, goody, it's Acting Director Dick. I've learned his name is Hayward. I don't care.

Blah blah Stompy Mc-I'm-In-Charge blah. Monica is not pleased about the whole trying to kill Wanda with a missile while she was talking to her plan. AD Dick just says "now we know who we're dealing with". Um … what? You tried to kill her and her response was to tell you to go away. Yeah, boy, she's a monster.

Darcy is there to helpfully remind AD Dick that Wanda made him look like the fool he is. ILU girl. "Hey, there he is; the guy who almost got murdered by his own murder squad." Jimmy just makes a 'i'm so disappointed in you and your choices' face at him in the background.

I despise characters like Hayward. They are so tedious. Narratively they are there to incite conflict, but given the situation conflict naturally exists, surely there are other ways to bring up/drive that tension without the trope of the government heavy ready to solve the problem with the most extreme amount of force available to him. OH no! Our plucky heroes will have to find a way to save the day and fight the Man! Can they do it? Boring. It's too bad General Talbot went insane and then died; he could probably give tips on How Not To Be That Guy.

Anyway

Hayward wants to know if Darcy works for him and she's like "dunno my dude", Monica claims her, AD Dick says "which one of you is the sassy best friend" and Jimmy's like, that is quite enough Acting Director Not Very Nice Man. "There's no time to diminish your colleagues when you're about to start a war you can't win." AD Dick just wants to take out Wanda so the whole nightmare ends. Monica's like um, we literally do not know what's going on. Like, for real we have no clue. So that might not, in fact, end the nightmare, Director Murder Britches.

They argue a lot and Director Dick goes off the rails. Dude's like more unhinged than seems warranted. Unless he's just so embarrassed that he pissed himself when Wanda returned his murder drone to him, he's decided SHE MUST BE DESTROYED FOR THE GOOD OF … NEW JERSEY AND MY SOILED UNDERWEAR OR SOMETHING.

"Captain Rambeau, you are an impediment to this mission!" Oh no! He's gonna tell her all about how hard it was to survive in a post-blip world, all those lucky blipped don't know what it was like! You just can't understand! Monica tells him not to use that as an excuse to be a coward. I'm so bored with this scene. Let me guess, the trio will have to go behind his back to save the day.

"Maybe it's a good thing you weren't here with your mother died. Because, clearly you don't have the stomach for this job." … non-sequitur much? Or is he saying she would have inherited the Director-ship (which should probably not be how that sort of agency works, let's be real). Is this scene five hours long, or does it just feel that way?

The Dick banishes the trio from his base.

"Hayward is way over-stepping his provisional authority". Jimmy Woo, you're so great. Monica says he's up to something. Yeah a tactical nuke and murder. Clearly he doesn't want to actually solve the problem, he just wants the problem to go away with a big show of macho explosions and whatnot. I suspect he might be in over his head, like he was not meant to be Acting Director, let alone Director. Also, he's a boring cliche stereotype and I loathe it.

JIMMY! I legit did not see that coming. He just pure hauls off and clocks one of the soldiers escorting them off the base, to a transport truck or something. Monica seems just as surprised for a second but then she's like "hell yeah!" and jumps in. Darcy sort of stands back and watches. lol. "Why didn't anyone tell me the plan?"

Oh look, it's my shipping container! They put the soldiers in there. Guys, it was for Hayward. Come on.

The trio disguise themselves with ponchos, which is a big step up from the usual MCU disguise of "baseball hat". That was a good bit in Ant-man and the Wasp "it's not a disguise, it just looks like us at a baseball game" (I watched that like last week. I missed Luis). Anyway …

Back in the sitcom world. The kids are ready for their early afternoon trick-or-treating. They're still talking to the camera. It's so awkward. I'm not a fan. I get it's meant to reproduce the very 90s Nick-era sitcoms and so, you know, it's spot on. Still, though.

Pietro is encouraging and supportive. "Unleash hell, demon spawn!"

Dang there are a lot of kids in that neighborhood. Wasn't Vision wondering last episode why there weren't any kids? Is the program correcting itself?

Wanda tries to test Pietro, asking him about some kid at an orphanage when they were kids. Pietro calls her on it, and says he knows he looks different. Wanda wants to know why that is. He says, "You tell me. I mean, if I found shangra-la, I wouldn't want to be reminded of the past, either." Hmm.

The kids speed off with uncle Pietro. Wanda wanders over to talk to neighbor Herb, who has a g-man earbud in and is clearly part of the neighborhood watch. In the background Pietro is stealing all the candy and smashing pumpkins and spraying the place with silly string. The hijinks are so wacky. Wanda tells Herb maybe Vision can help out with the chaos, and Herb says Vision isn't on duty. Oh no, he lied to her!

Herb goes weird "is there something I can do for you, Wanda? Do you want something changed?" Hmmm.

Elsewhere Vision is wandering the wild streets of Westview. He finds people caught in some type of weird decorating loop, the woman seems trapped but aware.

Commercial time! What the fuck was that. "Yo-magic! The snack for survivors." No, really, what the fuck.

Night has fallen, the twins and the twins walk the streets. Wanda's making the boys give back all the candy they stole. She says Pietro is a bad influence. He says "I'm just trying to do my part, kay? Come to town unexpectedly, create tension with the brother-in-law, stir up trouble with the rugrats, and ultimately give you grief. I mean, that's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"What happened to your accent?"

"What happened to yours? Details are fuzzy, man. I got shot like a chump in the street for no reason." AHAHAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHAHA! no really AHAHAHAHAAH! Thank you, Pietro! Holy shit, perfect. That's some delicious shade. I expect to see this gif'd fifteen different ways when I load tumblr today.

"Next thing I know, I heard you calling me. I knew you needed me."

The kids interrupt. And now all of a sudden Tommy can zoom. Character development!

Everyone is so careful to give Wanda what she wants. Why? She's not cruel. Who wants to keep her pacified? And whoever it is cannot possibly be pleased with AD Dick messing things up. Assuming it's an outside or outside-ish force/entity, of course. I mean, I don't think she's doing this entirely, she might be the battery powering it, but despite her thing last episode to get SWORD to leave her alone, she does seem a little confused about the where, why, and how things are going.

"Don't go past Ellis Avenue." Just a kid thing or a boundary of the sitcom control world?

In the real world, our heroes are sneaking through a tent city and into the server room. The scene with Pietro and Wanda discussing his accent is playing in the background. Darcy seems put-out that Pietro was recast. lol. "He brought the wrong face."

Darcy hacks into Hayward's devices. "Hayward figured out a way to look through the boundary." "And he didn't share it with the group." I don't like Hayward.

Something is blipping on the map on the computer. Jimmy asks if it's Wanda, but Darcy says "it's tracking the decay signature of vibranium". So Vision. Monica wants to know why Hayward is tracking Vision. Well, I'd super like to know what SWORD was doing with Vision in the first place, because they weren't just storing him, they were doing something. So …

Jimmy notices that there are other dots, the ones closest to Vision, who are other residents. Jimmy says the ones near the edge of town are barely moving.

Back to Vision. He's found a cul-de-sac to patrol. Everybody's frozen in place, the street lights flicker. Eerie. They're all dressed for Halloween. Does this mean the field is shrinking, or the effects spreading and so it's closing in, slowing and then freezing people who were earlier moving about just fine? Vision is unaffected by this whatever it is. He turns himself into himself and flies off, up above the town. part of the town is dark, and part alive with voices and laughter.

He spots a car at the edge of town. It's Agnes. She seems frozen-ish, but when he asks what she's doing there, she says "Town Square Scare. Where is it?" all robotic like. Vision helpfully tries to give directions. lol. "Took a wrong turn, got lost" she says.

Vision touches her head and she wakes up. "You! You're one of the Avengers. You're Vision. Are you here to help us?" "I am Vision. I do want to help. But, what's an Avenger?"

Hmm. Well, I guess he did say last week that he couldn't remember anything before Westview.

"Am I dead?" she asks. "No, why would you think that?" "Because you are."

What was news coverage after the Snap like, do you suppose? I mean, ridiculous, of course. But, like, I think they had bigger problems then wondering about snapped/dead Avengers, didn't they? Well, maybe not. "WHERE ARE AVENGERS TO HELP US?" or "HOW DARE THE AVENGERS NOT HELP US!" "TOTALLY THIS IS ON THE AVENGERS!" "WE'D ALL BE DEAD WITHOUT THE AVENGERS!" "NUHUH! BOO AVENGERS!" "EXCEPT VISION WHO DIED HEROICALLY, WE ALL LIKE THAT AVENGER!" "TONY STARK AND PEPPER POTTS SHARE THE DECORATING TIPS THAT TRANSFORMED THEIR RUSTIC RESTORATION PROJECT INTO A CHARMING FAMILY HOME".

Agnes starts screaming "Dead" at Vision. She's not coping well. Vision says he's going to try and reach outside town and try to figure this all out. "How? No one leaves. Wanda won't even let us think about it." I SUSPECT YOU, AGNES! Why would Wanda keep everybody trapped and miserable? I could see if she did it on accident, but this implies she's purposefully hurting people. I don't buy it. Agnes, again, seems to be in the right place at the right time to make Vision doubt Wanda. You're a very suspicious character, Agnes.

She starts to laugh. "All is lost." Vision touches her had and she resets to sitcom Agnes. Somehow she can move again, she turns the car around on Ellis Ave and heads back into town. So, that answers that.

Vision walks across the Eillis Ave to the field beyond.

Meanwhile, Darcy continues to hack. Monica gets a text and says "that's it! My way back into the Hex will be here in an hour." Jimmy's all ready to boost a ride to take her to meet her aerospace buddy. But, Darcy says, nope. Can't do it. Monica's been through the Hex twice, and it's rewritten her cells. "It's changing you." Monica is undaunted. "I know what Wanda's feeling and I won't stop until I help her." Alrighty then.

Jimmy's finally going to get to hotwire a car! But wait, Darcy's not going with them. AD Dick has something hidden behind one last firewall. Darcy thinks it's big and can help them. She's going to find it.

I don't think Jimmy had to hotwire that humvee. It just started right up. Motorpool, pfft - they always leave the keys.

Back in Westview. Halloween continues at Town Square. Pietro asks Wanda where she was hiding all those kids. Whu? Says Wanda. "I assume they were all just sleeping peacefully in their beds. No need to traumatize beyond the occasional holiday cameo, amiright?" What is Pietro. "Hey don't get me wrong, you've handled the ethical considerations of this scenario as best you could. Families and couples stay together. Most personalities aren't far from what's underneath. People got better jobs. Better haircuts for sure."

"You don't think it's wrong?"

"Are you kidding me? I'm impressed. It's a pretty big leap from giving people nightmares and shooting red wigglywoos out your hands." No, really, what is Pietro? "How'd you even do all this?" Hmmm.

"I don't know how I did it. I only remember feeling completely alone. Empty. Just endless nothingness." She looks back at Pietro and for a second he's dead Pietro. Poor Wanda.

Darcy continues to hack Hayward's systems. Cataract classified weapons something something. They're still tracking Vision. Who continues his walk across the field and comes to the hex. He tries to push through it. Looks painful. SWORD rolls out to go overreact at him. He makes it through the barrier, kind of. It's a struggle.

Hayward standing there looking like a jackass "he really does want out, doesn't he?" Like he’s just amused by this turn of events, or watching a lab rat try to get out of the lab.

Darcy's standing behind watching all of this. Bits of Vision sort of fly off and back into the Hex. Darcy says "oh no!" and runs towards him, screaming for them to help him. Way to give away your sneaky hiding, girlfriend.

In Westview. Billy looks up, he can hear what's going on outside. "I hear daddy in my head. He's in trouble."

Vision calls for help, while SWORD prioritizes arresting Darcy. Phil Coulson would never have behaved like this. Boo to SWORD. Vision is dissolving. It's kind of gross and sad.

Wanda asks where Vision is, and Pietro interrupts "Don't sweat it, sis. It's not like your dead husband can die twice." Wanda wallops him with some red wigglywoos.

Billy sees soldiers and thinks Vision is dying. Wanda stops everything and makes a big red boom. The Hex appears to be expanding. Whoops, now you've done it AD Dick. He runs away like the brave brave guy he is. They leave Darcy handcuffed to a jeep. "Are you serious right now?"

The Hex overtakes Vision and then Darcy. Trapped soldiers become clowns, and we're in the circus. Well, SWORD seems like a circus, so Wanda's not wrong. I'm pretty sure Jimmy and Monica made it, but sadly the bravest Director who ever braved also escaped. He deserved to be a circus clown. Better luck next week, Wanda.

Credits.

Well, I just don't know anymore.

Hayward doesn't care about Wanda, except where I think because of this someone will figure out what he was doing to Vision's body. And Vision is ultimately the thing he cares about in all this. I hope Wanda drops a house on him.

Hmmm.

Quit suggesting I watch Age of Ultron next, Disney. It’s not happening.

#wandavision #wandavision spoilers #wandavision liveblog

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duhragonball · 4 years ago

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Battle Tendency Liveblog: JJBA Ch. 77-82

Here’s a nice map that explains the current plot situation. Lisa Lisa resides on “Air Suplena Island”, an ancient Ripple Clan training facility off the coast of Venice. Apparently there’s a second, smaller island for fighting. The boys were supposed to have their final tests here by fighting their instructors-- Joseph vs. Loggins and Caesar vs. Messina. But...

Esidisi showed up first and killed Loggins just as Joseph arrived for his test. Esidisi seems to have found some clue that the Red Stone of Aja is here, although for some reason he checked this “adjacent island” first instead of the main one. Anyway, Joseph shows up and quickly puts it all together.

This particular moment gets crapped on a bit in the fandom, because Joseph observes that Loggins’ lungs were ripped out, and the lungs are vital for Hamon users, but they’re kind of vital for anybody, so it feels like a silly thing for Joseph to say out loud. I think the real point he’s trying to make here is that Esidisi killed Loggins with a single kick. As formidable as Loggins is, Esidisi knew exactly where to strike for a one-hit-kill. Like, Santana wouldn’t have known to do that, because he’s never fought Ripple Clan guys before. He might have gone for another vital area, not realizing that a skilled Hamon-weilder like Loggins could defend it as long as he could breathe.

Anyway, the stakes just got raised for Joseph’s final test. Beating Loggins was going to be a challenge in itself, but now Joseph will have to defeat the guy who killed Loggins in one blow. But Joseph was going to have to fight Esidisi eventually anyway, so we might as well get it out of the way now.

But it’s JJBA, so no climactic battle would be complete without some absurd shots of buff dudes striding towards each other. Well, the early parts more than the later ones.

I’m not sure why there’s a pit full of spikes on this island, but I assume Loggins planned to fight Joseph here, since Joseph easily uses Hamon to walk on the spikes without getting hurt. As for Esidisi, he just impales his feet on the spikes, because he can regenerate his body anyway.

You know, actually, that seems like a really bad move on Esidisi’s part. If these spikes are made of metal, and attached to a metal plate on the bottom, then Joseph could send his Ripple through the whole structure and zap Esidisi right now. At least, I’m pretty sure Hamon conducts through metal.

I just looked it up, and apparently metal can’t store Hamon, but it will pass through metal, so I think that would be good enough for a trick like this to work. Or maybe these are just stone spikes and they’re not interconnected. Also, I finally found out that “Hamon” is just the Japanese word for “Ripple”, so that explains why the terms are used interchangeably.

This fight is pretty awesome, but it’s tricky, so I’ll try to summarize the action as best I can. Initially, Esidisi doesn’t even want to fight Joseph, because he’s only here to search for the Stone of Aja, and he doesn’t think Joseph has improved enough to bother wasting time on him. But Joseph insists. He wants to avenge Loggins, and he has to stop Eisidisi from proceeding to Air Suplena Island, and he wants the antidote to that poison ring in his throat.

Esidisi is surprised when Joseph’s Ripple is strong enough to force his finger through Esidisi’s hand, but he still thinks he’s strong enough and fast enough to kill Joseph before he can channel more Hamon through his finger. But that was just a diversion. The whole time, Joseph had been unspooling a string, the other end of which was tied to the hand of Loggins’ corpse. Joseph loops it around Eisidisi’s other arm, and it’s been soaked with vegetable oil, so it’s perfect for charging with Hamon.

I guess he only tied the string to Loggins’ body to provide a weight on the other end while Joseph sprang his trap. Anyway, he lops off Eisidisi’s forearm, and dedicates the attack to his dead teacher. You know, I have to think Joseph had a lot of these tricks ready in advance. I mean, he came here to fight Loggins, so maybe he figured a string soaked in vegetable oil would give him an advantage.

Joseph expects Esidisi to be furious, but instead the dude starts bawling like a baby. Joseph is confused and unnerved by this...

... and he’s even more unnerved when Esidisi regains his composure. He explains that a good cry helps him balance his mood. Earlier, Joseph mentioned Sun Tzu, so Esidisi tops him by suggesting that he knew Sun Tzu during his travels in China. I’m not sure why Esidisi would have bothered meeting or reading Sun Tzu, though, since the Pillar Men have been so dismissive of “primitive” humans up to this point. This is the most any of them have spoken to a human, so far, and it seems pretty clear by now that they only bother talking to Joseph because he’s proven himself to be a mildly worthy adversary. Unless Sun Tzu had super powers, I’m not sure why Esidisi would bother remembering the guys name. Then again, maybe Sun Tzu had super powers in the JoJo-verse.

Esidisi’s point is that Joseph only thinks that he won this battle before it began. The missing hand isn’t even a setback, as Esidisi just hops over to Loggins’ corpse and grafts Loggins’ forearm onto his own. Then he melts Loggin’s body just to show off his ability. Back in Part 1, Dio could freeze things by altering his bodily fluids, but the Pillar Men have even greater control over their bodies. Esidisi, for example, can heat his own blood to 600 degrees Celsius, hot enough to burn stuff. I’m not sure why his blood doesn’t burn, but whatever. He calls this his “mode”, and compares it to Wammu’s talent for manipulating air currents. Perhaps appropriately, Joseph prepares his steel balls to use Clacker Volley. So you can see how we’re getting closer and closer to the introduction of Stands in Part 3.

But Esidisi can do more than just burn things with his blood. He can also extend blood vessels from his body, and shoot hot blood at his opponents. And it looks like he’s got a clear shot at Joseph’s face...

Meanwhile, Caesar just finished his battle with Messina, who concedes defeat and gives Caesar a passing score. Caesar immediately checks in on the other island to see how Joseph is doing, and Messina finds that odd. A couple things here. First, Caesar remarks how Joseph has a “heart of gold”, which I’m pretty sure is what Joseph himself said of Josuke and his friends at the end of Part 4, so that’s pretty neat. Second, Messina compares Caesar’s friendship with Joseph to falling for a girl, so clearly Messina ships it.

Anyway, Caesar discovers that Joseph is fighting a Pillar Man instead of Loggins, but they’re too far away for him to help. Luckily, Eisidisi’s hot blood attack only hit Joseph’s breathing mask, so he doesn’t suffer serious injury. But Eisidisi sprouts blood vessels from his back, too, basically trapping Joseph from all sides.

Ah, but Joseph has been unraveling his wool hat the whole time, creating a trap within the trap. This is where it gets kind of confusing.

See, Esidisi’s whole deal here is that he seems to be one step ahead of Joseph, and he even rips off Joseph’s thing where he tells the other guy what he’s about to say next.

All Esidisi has to do is cut the lines Joseph set up, and he won’t be able to conduct any Hamon through them. Whoops.

Except, no! Because... Huh? Joseph talks about how magic tricks and illusions became popular in the 19th and 20th centuries, something Esidisi wouldn’t have known about, but Joseph is all into. He didn’t just make one string through these spikes. He did two, and wove them together in such a way that the second string would still be in tact even when the first was cut. But he made sure that one of these strings would be at Esidisi’s back, so that when he cut the first he wouldn’t notice the second.

Long story short: If you were wondering why Joseph’s Stand is Hermit Purple in Part 3, it’s because he used strings and ropes for almost everything in Part 2. He wraps the remaining string around Esidisi, fires up his Ripple, and Esidisi has no choice but to take it head on.

Unlike Santana, who simply turned into a stone-like material, Esidisi friggin explodes. And this is why I doubt Santana survived for long after Part 2. Now, Joseph’s Ripple is strong enough to destroy Santana quite easily, and we never saw that happen because by the end of this story killing Santana was probably a formality. Anyway, Joseph finds Esidisi’s nose ring and drinks the antidote inside.

Only thing is, Esidisi isn’t dead. His brain and nervous system survived that last attack, and somehow he snuck onto Joseph’s back. On his way inside, Joseph runs into Suzie Q, Lisa Lisa’s... butler? I’m not really sure. Anyway, she’s never seen him without his mask on and they flirt a little before he goes to report to Lisa Lisa.

But she’s taking a bath, and Joseph decides to check her out before he goes in. I gotta say, this shot is way more tasteful than what they did in the anime version.

I’m kind of rushing through this part, but it comes down to this, Esidisi jumped off Joseph’s back, then infiltrated Suzie Q’s body. Controlling her like a puppet, he then found the Red Stone of Aja and gave it to the mailman. Then he reveals himself to the others, and declares his intention to hold them off so that they can’t get the Stone back.

I assume Esidisi isn’t powerful enough to put up much of a fight now, because his strategy mostly boils down to using Suzie Q as a hostage. He’s willing to attack Joseph and the others and to injure Suzie Q’s body, but he knows they can’t kill him without using a Ripple so powerful that it would put too much strain on Suzie’s heart.

Really, I’m not sure I understand that. Hamon is fatal to vampires and Pillar Men, sure, and it can be used to hurt humans, but we’ve also seen it heal people too. You’d think a concentrated Ripple would purge Esidisi from her body without harming her at all. But then I guess we’d have no tension here, so whatever. Joseph tries to call Esidisi’s bluff, but it doesn’t work.

Instead, Joseph reminds Caesar of the trick he used to get out of the Hell Climb Pillar, and they both attack Suzie Q at the same time. Joseph sends repelling Hamon through her body, while Caesar sends attracting Hamon into her heart, and that somehow cancels it out so that she doesn’t die from this. I’m not sure why the diagram needed nipples. Well, I know why, but you know what I mean.

And that finishes off Esidisi. His brain grabs hold of Joseph as it gets forced off of Suzie Q, but there’s nowhere to go from here. They’re out in the sun, and everyone else in the room has Ripple powers, so what else can he do but succumb to death? Caesar is disgusted by Esidisi’s underhanded tactics, but Joseph respects Esidisi for fighting so doggedly to support his comrades and their cause. This stunt with Suzie Q was pretty shameful, but it was all Esidisi could do, so he went for it.

I dunno, I’m with Caesar on this one. Esidisi’s a pretty awesome villain, and I respect the heel heat of using an innocent woman as a hostage, but I can’t respect him in a “noble warrior” kind of way. Rest in piss, Esidisi.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #battle tendency #joseph joestar #caesar zeppeli #suzie q #lisa lisa #esidisi #loggins #messina

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thatesqcrush · 5 years ago

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Soul Savin’, Pt. 3

Rafael Barba x Reader. AN: Taking a lot of liberties and using a lot of prompts and part of a challenge here, specifically: @madpanda75‘s “from your smutty prompt list, can you please do “Friends don’t do this kind of shit!” where Barba and the reader go to a bar, have some tequila, then do some body shots” as well as @delia26‘s “I turned out liking your a lot more than I originally planned.” Finally, using Jewel’s “Who Will Save Your Soul” as part of @thefanficfaerie‘s birthday challenge.

CW: language, eventually it’ll be NSFW. Angst, continued slow-burning.

CW: for mentions of 9/11.

WC: 2500

***

You woke up the next day to pounding on your apartment door. You groaned as you shuffled out of your room. “Just a minute,” you called as you pulled on your fluffy purple robe. The banging on your door intensified. Irritated, you called out once more. “Coming!” You found a lone hair tie on the end table by your couch and you took it, pulling your hair into a low pony-tail. You opened the door and found no one there. Confused, you were about to close the door, when you noticed a package with a note. Your heart began to pound and you crouched down to get a closer look. You sighed in relief when you realized the lettering on the box was from the NorthFork donut company, a small artisinal shop that you were obsessed with. Your eyes darted past the box and there was a growler of coldbrew coffee, from your favorite local roaster, SailAway Coffee Company.

You took the package and growler and shut the door behind you. You could smell how fresh the donuts were from even outside of the box and your stomach growled. You made your way back to the kitchen and set the goodies on the island before going to get a glass for the coffee. You spooned some sugar into the glass and then opened the growler to pour the coffee in.

Carefully, you opened the donut box and instead of getting caught up in the delicious sight before you, your eyes settled on the note that was taped on the inside lid. Your name was scrawled in Rafael’s handwriting.

Y/N, I am sorry for last night. Mea culpa. I just really miss my friend and hope I didn’t fuck it up for good.

You sighed and pondered Rafael’s note. You wondered had you not had a thing for him, would you even be so forgiving. You grabbed a fancy looking chocolate donut and then went back to your room to grab your phone. You hopped onto a barstool and wrote Rafael back.

Thanks for the donuts and coffee. Didn’t take you for someone to be so cliched. Come over, help me finish the coffee. Can’t make any promises on the donuts.

Rafael texted he would be over within the hour. You were tempted to eat another donut, but instead chose to shower.

“Do they just let anyone on the roof?” Rafael asked in disbelief as he took in the view of the city before him from your rooftop.

“No, but sometimes being a cop has its perks,” you winked before taking a sip of your coffee. “I like to come up here in just when it gets a little too much for me down there, it's like...like my New York version of a mountaintop.”

The sun was beaming down brightly but there was a cool breeze, not making it overly warm. You brought over the donuts to the little table that you had set up. Rafael leaned against the railing, watching you as you set up the donuts.

“I’m sorry.”

You paused your actions and stood straight up, to face him. “I know. I got your note.” Rafael walked over to you. His hand rested on your forearms. You searched each other’s eyes. Part of you wanted to do nothing but smooth back some of his hair that had fallen out of place but you refrained from doing so. “Look Rafael – I don’t understand our relationship. Sometimes we’re friends… sometimes it feels like we’re strangers. You have to be honest with me.”

Rafael Barba, the silver-tongued prosecutor suddenly found himself at a loss for words. His mouth went dry and he swallowed hard. His stomach was in knots. Unable to look at you, he turned away, facing the skyline once more.

“It’s complicated.”

“Bullshit.”

You marched back up to Rafael and stood to face him. “Talk to me. What is it? Please.”

Rafael looked at you and he felt awful for being the reason your face was laced with worry and concern. He wished he could tell you how he felt about you – that all he wanted to do was to kiss you – and then some. You crossed your arms and bit your lip, anxious at his pending response. Something – you weren’t sure what – flashed across Rafael’s face and all you wanted to do was rush up to him and kiss him. You stepped closer to Rafael and he stepped closer to you.

“It’s work,” Rafael lied. “Just have been stressed. It’s the summer so a lot of people are off and I just bit off more than I can chew.”

You sighed. “Okay. If you say so.” Rafael did not miss the hint of disappointment in your voice. You walked back over to the table and grabbed a donut before sitting down on a wicker love seat. You chewed slowly as you looked up towards the sky. A pigeon flew overhead before settling on the ledge. The bird cooed at you as it eyed your donut. You tore off a piece of your donut and tossed it towards the bird.

“I don’t think donuts are part of a well-balanced diet for a pigeon.”

You snorted. “Are you some kind of pigeon expert? Is that your side-hustle Rafael Barba?”

Rafael guffawed as he sat down next to you. You reached over and handed him the donut box. Rafael chose a black and white donut – it was just like the cookie – but in donut form. You leaned your head on Rafael’s shoulder and the two of you sat there in silence, for what seemed like forever. The heat from the sun melted the glaze from the donuts and your fingers were sticky. You sucked the sugary coating off of your fingers slowly, not realizing Rafael’s gaze was hyper-focused on your movements. You closed your eyes and hummed and Rafael felt his desire shoot southward.

Rafael stood suddenly. “Anyway, I have to get going – I am glad we’re okay.”

You stood, brushing off invisible crumbs from your lap. “No – stay.”

Rafael pulled you into a hug, squeezing you tightly before pulling away to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you, Y/N.”

Strip clubs have reputations for being havens for drugs and sex trafficking for a reason. And that is was the scene of your next case – a stripper was brutally assaulted by a pimp there. Olivia had the idea of setting up a honeytrap with you going undercover. You showed up to the precinct all dolled up with a face full of heavy makeup and your hair in half-up and half-down in soft sexy curls.

“What are we working with?” Olivia asked, pointing to your trench coat. “I don’t think that is going to fly on the stage.”

You opened your trench coat revealing your actual outfit: you were outfitted in pure sin: a matching purple lame crop top, with a deep neckline, which accentuated your breasts and booty shorts with a ruched backing. Obscenely large hoop earrings hung off your lobes and your wrists were stacked with bangle bracelets. Finishing your outfit were shiny black patent five inch heels that accentuated your well defined calves.

At that moment Amanda came in with Rafael and Carisi on her heels. “We’re all set up to go… hey, hey, looking good, Y/N.”

“What is she… “ Rafael began but found himself at a loss for words as he took in the sight of you. All the blood in his body headed south. “Do I want to know why you're dressed like that? Wait a second… Y/N – you’re the mark for the honeytrap?” he asked in disbelief.

“Well who else would it be?” you asked. “Liv’s mug is all over the paper – Rollins is … you know…” you waved your hand over Amanda who was very clearly pregnant. “And Kat is on vacation visiting her mom in San Diego.”

“Liv, I don’t like this,” Rafael replied quietly. “This could get dangerous. I am worried about Y/N’s safety.”

“We don't need to get your approval. Besides, Y/N is tough – she can handle her own.” Olivia replied, giving Rafael an incredulous look. “Besides, we’ll have eyes and ears on the place. The first sign things are not going well, we’re moving in.”

“Hello? Hi – let’s not talk about me, in front of me,” you replied, waving your hand in between Rafael and Olivia. “Rafael – I got this,” you replied with an eye roll. “It’ll be fine.”

Rafael sat inside the stakeout van, cramped and uncomfortable. Inside the van was Olivia and Carisi. Olivia was feeding information to Fin who was inside the strip club, also undercover as a customer. Clipped in your earrings was a tiny camera recording every move.

Rafael watched as you were announced on the stage as “Sage Whisper.” You were nervous initially, especially as you knew Rafael was watching you. You chose to dance to “Lady Marmalade.”

Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir? Voulez-vous coucher avec moi? Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeahHe sat in her boudoir while she freshened up Boy drank all that Magnolia wine On her black satin sheets' where he started to freak, yeah

As you swung your body around the pole, you allowed yourself to get lost to the song and got really into your performance. You bent down to touch your toes, in front of the audience giving everyone a view of your ass, the material of your shorts rising up, almost being eaten by your cheeks when you stood up. You sauntered back to the pole and gyrated your hips as you shimmied off your shorts, revealing your black G-string. Just as you were about to clip off the back of your top, you were requested to go to a private room by the pimp your team had eyes on.

Meanwhile in the van, sweat dripped off Rafael’s brow. He wasn’t sure if it was you, the closed quarters, or both. Judging by how tight his pants were growing, he was sure it was you. He shifted uncomfortably as he watched you saunter off the stage and head to a backroom. The pimp had his hand low on your back, before moving down to squeeze it.

Rafael wanted to throw up.

You played your bit to the pimp, egging him on and teasing. Finally, the pimp had enough and he had backed you into a corner, his hand gripping your hair tightly, cocking your head.

“Watch it bitch – or I’ll do to you what I did to the last slut who came in here.”

You raised your brow in defiance. “I’d like to see you try.”

What you didn’t expect was to be pistol whipped. You collapsed to the ground and groaned in pain as you were kicked in the ribs. Around you was a cacophony of sounds – you could hear Olivia and Fin in the background along with several other police backup entering the room with their guns raised.

You could barely hear your name as your ears continued to ring. Finally, a pair of hands pulled you up and helped you out of the room.

Back outside, you shivered as you sat in the back of an open van, your head still pounding. You wore Liv’s police jacket in a futile attempt to keep warm. “Y/N, you did good,” Olivia replied softly. “I have your change of clothes. I’ll bring them by while you get checked out.”

“I don’t need to be checked out; I am fine,” you protested. Olivia raised her hand and shook her head.

“You need to be checked out. You are probably concussed and you might have a bruised rib or even a broken one.”

You sighed. “Okay. I’ll come up to the station after to finish up my paperwork.”

“Nonsense – you can do that on Monday. Take the rest of the weekend.” You began to protest when Oliva held a hand up. “That’s an order detective.”

“Ay, ay Captain,” you muttered weakly. Olivia waived over an EMS worker and as you were checked out, Rafael rushed to the van.

“Y/N, are you okay? Jesus fucking Christ!”

“I’m fine, Rafael. I promise. Just some bruises. Nothing that won’t heal in a couple of days.”

“Olivia gave me your clothes.” You nodded and gave him a small smile of appreciation as you took the duffel bag. You climbed into the van and began to shut the doors. “Make sure no one drives off with me in it – I am going to change.”

A few minutes later you emerged in a ratty sweatshirt and your most comfortable, broken in jeans. Your appeared out of place with your heavy makeup and costume jewelry still on. You winced as you removed your fake eyelashes. Rafael felt horrible for what you went through. “Do you have to go back to the precinct?”

“No. Liv gave me the weekend off; told me to finish my paperwork Monday.”

“Come on – let me get us a cab. We’ll go get some food.”

You smiled brightly. “That sounds perfect.”

You winced slightly as you laughed as Rafael told you an embarrassing tale of him as a kid. You popped a French fry in your mouth, reveling in the hot, salty carb. You were both back at the bar in Midtown.

“So you never told me why you ever came to this bar in the first place. Those many weeks ago.” Rafael trailed off, taking a long sip from his beer bottle.

You plucked a fry from Rafael’s plate and chewed it slowly, mulling over your next words. “I went to high school in the city and I was a senior when 9/11 occurred. When my friends and I were let out, we could not find a subway out of the city. So we ended up holed in this bar – this very bar. The owners of the bar – fed us never ending fries and sodas until we were able to connect with our parents. A cop came to get us a few hours later and drove us home. I have been a frequent flyer since I turned of legal age – more or less,” you chuckled. “And then Sean – one of the owners - died a few years ago to ALS.” Your voice warbled at the last bit and a tear threatened to fall. You wiped your greasy hands on a napkin and then used the back of your hands to wipe your eyes.

Rafael reached over and took one of your hands into his and squeezed it. You gave him a small smile and took a deep breath and a look around. “Okay, lets have a shot for Sean and for this night being an overall success despite…” you trailed off, casting a hand over yourself.

Rafael signaled for the bartender. Six shot glasses were lined up. And then again. And again.

When you first got ready for the evening, you never thought it would end with you and Rafael doing body shots. As Rafael sucked a mark into your neck, you gasped, “Friends don’t do this kind of shit!”

“Then I guess we were never friends,” Rafael husked in your ear, before pulling away to toss the shot back.

TBC.

Tags: @melsquared79 @madpanda75 @youreverycolor @tropes-and-tales @neely1177 @the-baby-bookworm @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @delia26 @sass-and-suspenders @mommakat32 @dreila03 @beccabarba @garturbo @lovebennycolon @imjustreallynosy @sweetsummertime99 @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @scarletsoldierrr @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid @redlipstickandblacktea @zoeykaytesmom @differentshadesofgray @misssirenlove @esparza-army @bananas-pajamas @mishaissocoollike @fanficfaeriesrafaelbarbalibrary @theenchantedgalleryofstories @thefanficfaerie @trekinthruthestarwars @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd @pieceofshittytitty -anyone else, just ask, xo

#rafael barba fanfic #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba and reader #barba and reader #svu fanfiction #svu imagines

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jovialjudgebonkalmond · 5 years ago

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Inevitable, Ch 1

Aight. So, I got crotchety and decided to write a fic. Obvious disclaimer, I don’t own the characters or universe in which the story takes place - yes internet I am that old, thank you.

Summary: Monty is alive, in jail. A recounting of his experiences and memories and basically all those flashbacks we weren’t given in season 4 that I am butthurt about. It is AU in the sense that he is still alive whilst Clay & Co are attempting to frame him for Bryce’s murder. Obvious spoiler alerts if you haven’t seen season 4.

Pairings will be Monty x Winston mainly. So far this is all from Monty’s POV but that may change down the line.

Warnings include violence, sex, drug use, rape, murder, and basically everything graphic and bad you can imagine. Will absolutely contain smut. Oh, and swearing. Yay, debauchery.

Word Count: 2,963

Another warning: I haven’t written fanfiction for like...15 years guys. Go easy on me. Also, please excuse the shitty username. I didn’t pick it and I am far too lazy to change it.

Another another warning: This is from Monty’s point of view. Clearly he didn’t view his actions with the totality of how devastatingly monsterous they were. I condemn his actions, he’s a rapist and deserved jail time. As we saw in s3 and in snippets of s4 he didn’t share that point of view. I think Monty is a dynamic character that’s interesting and I relate a lot to his back story. That’s why I was motivated to write this.

The air was thick, heavy, and moist. It had that stench of too many bodies crammed into an enclosed space, like the end of the night at a house party and you're still sober and all you can smell is stale sweat and the old farts that people pretend they aren't sneaking out when they're grinding on each other.

Not that I have much experience with being the sober one at the end of the night.

Montgomery de la Cruz kept his jaw clenched and shoulders squared as he walked to the dining hall. As he passed other men, all dressed in the same ugly orange jumpsuits, he made brief eye contact. Walking with your eyes down here was a sign of weakness and he had a target on his back from the moment he arrived. His shoulders, back, and ribs ached with his movements. It hadn't taken the other inmates long to get acquainted with him, a matter of hours really. The urge to hunch his shoulders and put a hand to stable his broken ribs was overwhelming, and fighting it made the vein in his neck throb annoyingly in cadence with his pulse and footsteps.

White, black, brown, gnarled, wrinkled, scarred, baby-faced youth, tattooed or not.... Monty silently made an inventory of their faces and features. One way or another, they were all just fucking assholes waiting for their opportunity. It was baffling just how much it reminded him of high school. The dining hall even had the same layout as a cafeteria, the same dull drone of a few hundred pricks all talking at once. He scanned his I.D. and settled into the end of the meal tray line, leaving an arm's length of room between himself and the back of the inmate ahead of him. He was a slight, wiry Latino with a snake tattooed from his shoulders up his neck. Only moderately safer than lining up behind someone else. Race dictated almost everything here.

But his charges changed the rules. Sexually assaulting a minor carried out its own price in jail. He wasn't even safe within his own demographic.

Which was fucking bullshit anyway. Tyler was basically the same age and it wasn't fucking sexual assault for fuck's sake.

Not that anyone here gave a fuck.

Oh, and then there were the murder charges. Fucking Clay Jensen. He grabbed the plastic tray from the stack. It was the same ugly beige that the cement walls were painted. There were slits for windows close to the ceiling like a low-rent basement suite in the wrong part of town, with that cage wire in-between the panes of glass. So small even a tiny bitch like Standall wouldn't fit through them. It was incredible how much the human body craved the fresh air and cool breeze of an open window the moment you realize you may never feel it on your skin again.

Lunch was by far the best meal of the day. The food wasn't...terrible. Today it was plain lettuce chopped up as a 'salad', sliced ham on white Wonder Bread, and some kind of from the bag frozen brown slop passed off as soup. The silver lining was the butterscotch pudding. It reminded him of the milk cake his mom used to make him on his birthday, sort of. He stopped at each station and watched the inmates who worked the kitchen plop the items on his tray. The kitchen work was reserved for the favourites, for the most part. After all, what else are you gonna do on the outside with a record?

He looked for an empty table and dropped his tray on it with a soft clacking of plastic on poured concrete. The tables and chairs were rows of picnic style benches made out of concrete and steel, bolted into the concrete floor. They were hard, cold, and uncomfortable just like everything else in this fuckin' place. He supposed that was the point. Everyone here was just in the grown-up version of a time out corner... from life, possibly for life. He sat down, the cold, hard seat digging into the bones in his ass.

It was unnerving, intimidating... and so terrifying he had been breathless since the moment he arrived. Like a white hot fist was clenched across his whole chest, suffocating him with the weight of his fucking mistakes. So many fucking mistakes. It made his head spin like he was living in some kind of alternate reality or a fucking nightmare. Although, if he was honest...he always knew it would end up like this. Especially without Bryce around to clean up his fucking mess this time.

The hot night air whipped his face as he pressed on the gas pedal, the stars flashing by above him as he sped down the empty road. Justin reached between them and turned the volume up, blasting the music so he felt it pumping through himself like a weird tachycardia.

"I fucking love this song." He yelled, sparking up a joint. He took a few puffs off of it to get it started before passing it over. When he exhaled the air around them swilled with the familiar skunky aroma. Monty laughed, guiding the old Jeep with one hand and reaching for the joint with the other.

"Of course you do, its a shitty fucking song." he chuckled, inhaling in a slow pull. It burned at the back of his throat. He held it in for a few seconds before exhaling and shaking his head and passing it back.

"That's cheap shit."

"Well yeah, I'm not fucking Bryce Walker." Justin laughed, the streetlights illuminating his black eye. His mother had a new asshole boyfriend who picked tonight to use Justin as a human punching bag...and well that's what brothers were for. It's not like Monty had anything better to do, anyway. He flipped his signal to turn right and pulled into the parking lot by the rocky beach. They could throw rocks and sticks into the water, maybe set some shit on fire and get shitfaced. Justin took another hit off the joint and pinched the end out with his fingertips, rubbing the ash into his skin like a salve.

"Neither am I, man, neither am I..." he muttered. Justin and Monty weren't the most unlikely of friends. Justin was a bit worse off than him in the family department, sort of. But Bryce Walker? Sometimes he wondered if not for the team what was the thread that held them together.

"Fucking Bryce." Justin muttered as Monty cut the engine. The silence without the music was sudden and deafening. "Of course he's out of town with his dad on vacation."

"Probably getting laid." Monty added, laughing. Justin laughed too. Justin Foley was like...allergic to being alone. The fuckin' guy had kicked puppy written all over his face, always needing a lap to curl up in...and in the absence of that there was always a powder or a needle to get him through til the next adoption. But he was such a drag and a honest to god pain in the ass on the field when he was in withdrawal or detoxing. So. Monty was here to pick up the pieces before it jeopardized the team. And he didn't mind. It was better than being at home...

He pulled the keys out and stepped out. The California summer air meant he didn't need the doors or the top on the Jeep and he enjoyed the freedom. Justin matched his footsteps as they silently walked on to the rocky beach. His trademarked puppy dog eyes were mournfully eyeing the skyline where it met the ocean. Monty casually reached down and picked up a rock, watching it skip across the waves when he tossed it. Justin stuffed his hands in the pockets of his varsity jacket.

"Sometimes I wonder why he even fuckin' bothers with a couple of fuck ups like us." He muttered, casting his eyes down.

So that's what we're gonna do, Monty thought, we're gonna mope... fuck that.

"Now Justy, imagine how fucking boring his life would be without us. Just an endless string of bitches to rail and expensive scotch." He skipped another rock and glanced over, leaned in and gently knocked his shoulder into Justin's, knocking the other boy off balance. Justin laughed and locked eyes with Monty for a moment.

"I guess you're right about that yeah." he laughed. It was a small, unsure laugh at first but Monty saw the sorrow break a bit in his eyes. He was good at noticing these subtle things, noticing things was often what saved his ass. If you knew to watch when someone's eyes changed, or the way their muscles tensed and moved you could easily predict what they were going to do. Quite often this was what was between him and a clenched fist to his face.

Monty and Justin had similarities, Monty could admit that, but where Justin pulled inward and consumed himself, brought himself down, Monty hardened and clenched his fist right back at the world.

If he was honest, he thought Foley was weak. But that's what brothers are for, they protect each other. The strong look out for the weak, especially in their weakest moments.

"I mean, who are we kidding," Justin said, "He's going to go off to like Stanford or Princeton or something..." He leaned down and picked up a rock, running his fingers over the smooth, cold surface.

"You couldn't pay me to go to one of those stuffy ass places anyway." Monty countered, kicking at some of the rocks by his feet, scuffing a small trench into the sand beneath. "I get sick just thinking about it."

"Yeah." Justin agreed, "I just... all these fuckin' rich kids..."

"Yeah. And their tight pants and cardigans." Monty snorted, watching Justin's face break into another smile.

"Fucking cardigan's. Like a fucking grandpa."

"I'm not going to live long enough to get old, so I can't relate." Monty said loudly, almost like forced bravado. He liked being obnoxious, to smile out of spite.

"Yeah," Justin laughed, "You're gonna die in prison with a fuckin' shiv between your ribs."

Monty laughed, watching Justin release his rock with a flick of his wrist. It skipped once over the glassy surface before falling into its inky black depths.

"And you're gonna die with a fuckin' needle in your arm...or-" His face cracked into a grin.

"Maybe you'll get the fuckin hiv."

Justin laughed loudly and gave Monty a shove.

"It's H-I-V, dumbass."

"Yeah, but hiv rhymes with shiv. We'll both get ivved." He crowed proudly, shoving Justin back lightly with both his hands. Justin took a half-hearted swing at him, but he dodged it easily and picked up a piece of driftwood as he ran by, swinging around and walloping the other boy in the ass. Justin's legs buckled and he took a few steps, laughing and chucking handful of small rocks at him. They pinged over his broad chest like hail on a shitty day.

"Fuck you, Monty!"

"Ohh wouldn't you like to though, Justy." Monty countered, turning around and dropping his pants off his cheeks. He bent over and smacked his own ass, "I'm waiting!" He laughed, his face breaking into a slightly demented grin. He felt the stinging welt of a stick being whipped across his bare skin and jumped, yanking his pants back up. He yelped, turning around, the grin not leaving his face.

"Fuck no, you'd like it too much. Perv." Justin pointed the stick at him. Monty picked up the stick he had dropped before and aimed for Justin's thigh, but Justin blocked it and whacked Monty again, this time in his side. They continued to chase, smack, and poke at each other, delighting in the mutual torment.

"Fuck you're relentless." Justin declared in defeat, dropping his stick with a laugh and holding his hands up with surrender. He was panting, his pasty skin clammy in the moonlight.

"It's one of my more endearing qualities." Monty said with a devilish grin as he bowed. "That and my abs."

"Fuck your 'roid ass abs." Justin half wheezed. "Think Bryce will read our obituaries from his penthouse drinking his fucking scotch?"

"Nah man," Monty laughed with a shake of his head, "They don't write obituaries for shitheads like us."

Monty was yanked out of his drifting memories when another man sat across from him with a thump that rattled the table. The boy stared at the man for a moment, one triangular quarter of his shitty dry sandwich poised in his hand as he was about to take a bite. He bit down and chewed, watching the intruder with feigned disinterest. He was good at this. Putting on a front.

Until he couldn't anymore, that is. Until the mask slipped and revealed the scared, desperate pile of shit inside.

The man was at least six feet tall, three-and-some hundred pounds, white as mayonnaise with a big ol' swastika on his bicep. He had an earring in one ear and some scars down his face, chest, and arms. Scratches. Wounds made from desperate, terrified women in self defense. He was bald as a gummy walnut, his scalp weirdly wrinkled and beginning to be dotted with age spots. He was at least mid-fifties, Monty figured. Total skinhead. Asshole. Word of mouth said his rap sheet was a few miles long, most recently connected to a decent string of raped and murdered girls and women. Almost all of them were involved in the sex trade, women or girls of colour. He was a truck driver who used his profession as a tool to evade the police, making it hard to pin him down because he changed locations across different jurisdictions. The varied age and ethnicities of his victims didn't help the police either. Some were as young as 12 years old, and others as old as mid 40's. He, too, was awaiting sentencing. Obviously whatever happened, he'd end up in a maximum state prison.

Couldn't fit the stereotype more if he tried, Monty thought, disgusted.

That's the shit end of the stick awaiting sentencing in a county jail. You get petty crooks like Tim Pozzy who likely won't even get real time, and then assholes like this behemoth pile of trash.

Monty chewed his food, watching silently as the neonazi asshole reached across the table and took his pudding. His fingers were fat, like pale bloated sausages. He opened it, maintaining eye contact with Monty. His eyes were an icy blue, and they seemed devoid of anything. They say the eyes are the window to the soul... and there was nothing there. It sent a shiver down the 18 year old's spine and made the hair on the back of his neck tickle. He smiled, showing that he was clearly in desperate need of dental care. He didn't have many teeth left, and the ones that remained were brownish-greyish nubs of rot. Monty thanked whatever god or demon that might be listening that he couldn't smell this guy's breath. It just looked like it would inevitably stink. The whole time he felt the old familiar build up, the inevitable time bomb tick, tick, ticking through his veins. His blood sounded like thunder in his ears.

How is it that I fuck with Ty-ty, just some fucking hazing, not a big deal...and I get labelled a pedophile and a rapist - a fucking rapist for fuck's sake - and this guy...this guy basically runs this place...

It's not like he wanted to fuck Tyler. That's disgusting. He wanted to hurt him, and he could admit that was wrong. Sure. But the little creep had ruined his life, and for that he had to pay. It was simple.

This asshole, though, was the real pedophile. The only difference was Monty had the audacity to target a white male, the untouchable. And this guy stuck to the easily forgotten targets.

He stuck out a surprisingly short, wide, tongue that looked like it was covered in herpes lesions and licked the foiled plastic lid of the pudding. Monty felt it come alive inside of him, blinding and electric. White hot rage boiled through his veins, exploding in his head and lighting every muscle in his body so that he had to move or it would consume him. He couldn't have stopped himself if he had wanted to try, and he didn't bother with the wasted effort.

In a swift, smooth motion he grabbed his lunch tray with his free hand and backhanded the other man up the jaw with it and stood. Before the asshole had time to react, he used his other hand to grip the top of his head - ham sandwich and all, and slam his face into the concrete table and the pudding. Blood and pudding spurted in all directions like a moneyshot of rage jizz and he felt relief hearing the echoing crack of the larger man's skull. He didn't even have time to bask in the afterglow of his violence before he felt the familiar thud of knuckles to the bottom left of his jaw, the blow eliciting a sickening pop and sending him reeling out of control. He stumbled, losing his balance as vision went static like a television without a connection. He tasted the all too familiar coppery flavour of blood filling his mouth. He spat and staggered and threw a blind fist out, feeling it connect to something, but what he wasn't sure. The immediate agony and crack told him it was in fact the fucking table and he probably broke some fingers. That's when he took a second, devastating blow to his head and everything went black.

#13rw #fanfic #monty de la cruz #montgomery de la cruz #monty x winston #winston x monty #13rw fanfiction

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thevengeanceuniverse · 5 years ago

Text

Truce? Ch 2.

The PR team planned their dates, making sure they were seen regularly going to coffee shops and galas, all the regular things that someone dating Tony Stark would attend.

Bucky struggled to adjust to his new level of fame, followed everywhere he went by people who insisted on shoving cameras in his face and asking for quotes on how his relationship is going. To this day, he didn’t understand how “Fine” or “Good” was a bad answer. The PR people kept telling him to be brief, but positive. What was negative about good?

Tony found his discomfort hilarious and took great joy in taking him to events filled with folks that his company did business with—and 200 of their closest friends. They would go around, making introductions to get Bucky familiar with the people that inhabited Tony’s world and engage in small talk. Tony’s favourite game was when someone would say something along the lines of “And recently, I’ve been devoting time to the exploration of blah blah blah,” and Tony would jump in with, “You know who loves blah blah blah? Bucky! Why don’t you tell them all about your own progress, sweetheart?”

And Bucky would have to rapidly come up the details of a fake interest in tree pruning or velocity equations or non-Indians trying to cleanse their chakras through their navel—or whatever else they decided to talk about.

All he wanted to do was get out of the uncomfortable bow ties and into some fluffy socks and sweatpants, curling up with Steve to watch Finding Nemo and dreaming about sea turtles. Instead, he was going through his own personal nightmare, talking to people he had no interest in—who were much too invested in talking about themselves.

After a few of these events, Tony quickly lost interest in Bucky’s impressive ability to adapt and decided that if they had to go on dates anyway, they might as well go somewhere actually fun. Two days later, he dragged Bucky to a trampoline park a little upstate from the city, which of course they had to rent out for the afternoon to prevent being mobbed by a crowd of Tony Stark fans (the Bucky Barnes fans were laying low on account of the controversy).

The park was housed in a huge building with various areas of trampoline activities for them to try out, from the wide-open space meant for being your best acrobatic self, to basketball hoops and the dodgeball courts. On one side, there was an entire glass wall to let in the light and looked over the green hill the park sat on. It would be beautiful if the view wasn’t covered by the eyes of the world that were watching them, pressed against the translucent surface and fogging it up with their hot breath.

Bucky now knew what it was like to be a goldfish trapped in a glass tank and hated it, but at least it meant that they were getting the attention they needed to.

“Okay Barnes, here’s the deal.” Tony stood in front of the obstacle course with his hands propped on his hips, clad in a stretchy t-shirt and tights with the sheer material at the bottom to show off his legs to perfection. Even when working out, Tony Stark was the epitome of style.

“If I beat you to the other side of the course, you have to dance to a song of my choosing. Right here, in front of everyone.” He gestured expansively to include the staff and their crowd of watchers, all of whom had their phones out to catch the play by play of the Stark-Barnes date.

Bucky’s browed furrowed. “I don’t dance.”

“Exactly,” Tony replied, a smirk twisting his lips. “Don’t worry, I’ll take the same bet. You’ll get me to perform anything you want if you win.”

Bucky looked over the course again, knowing that he could easily make his way across without even breaking a sweat. It would be unfair, but even as he silently acknowledged the fact of his physical advantage, he couldn’t help but think of having the snarky genius dance like a chicken in front of their hordes of admirers.

That would be a photo highlight worth saving.

“Fine,” he agreed, already tasting his victory. “I’ll take the bet.”

They lined up at the starting point, a staff member at the beginning with a stopwatch to time them and another standing at the end, ready to declare the winner the moment someone reached the finish line.

The one at the start line, nametag marked Sarah, raised a paper towel in mimicry of a checked flag. “3, 2,1, GO!” The towel dropped and they were off.

Bucky launched himself on the first obstacle, slanted braces that were spaced a foot away from each other on opposite sides. Shifting his weight, he skipped from one side to the next like an intense game of hopscotch and jumped forward to the net. Scaling its rough surface quickly, he pulled himself up and over and made his way to the next part, a wall that he made his way across by shimmying sideways and using the handholds provided.

It came to a tiny ledge at the end and he stood balanced in a crab-like squat, angling his body and propelling it upward to grab the bar hanging from the top of the obstacle course cage. Using his momentum to trapeze swing forward, he reached out and grab the rope when it came into reach, Tarzaning his way to the platform that led to the next obstacle.

Pausing there for a bare moment, he looked back to see where Tony was. He hadn’t gone through the obstacles as easily as Bucky, but he was still determinably keeping up. Bucky watched as he swung back and forth on the bar to build up the momentum for the leap, adjusting for his shorter height so he wouldn’t fall short of reaching the rope.

Not looking to see if he made it, Bucky stepped forward on the tire swings. balancing on its ridiculous bumpy ride to move from one to the other. He got into the swing of it, making sure to soar forward and leapt before one tire hit the other and sent them both careening in opposite directions.

Halfway through, he heard clanking from above and looked up to see Tony, who instead of following the path of the course, had decided to use the rope to pull himself up to the ceiling of the cage. He weaved along the bars, moving quickly across them in a feat of frightening agility.

Bucky swore when Tony moved past him, speeding up and outright leaping from the last tire to the next platform that preceded the rope walk. They were neck and neck at this point, but Tony leapt from up top a split second before Bucky, reaching ground and beating him.

“You cheated,” Bucky accused.

“Did I though?” Tony grinned unrepentantly, taking a long drink from his water bottle and savouring his win. “The deal was that whoever made it to the other side of the course first was the winner. I didn’t say anything about having to make it through all the obstacles.”

“That’s c h e a t i n g,” Bucky emphasized slowly, wanting to shake the genius now that the reality of his being duped sunk in.

“Eh, potato, potahto. Now,” Tony rubbed his hands together gleefully and pulled out his phone, “time for the penalty.”

“Okay, Stark,” Bucky said, striding over to Tony and grabbing his phone out of his hand, “I’ll dance for you. But since you cheated, I’m choosing the music.” Tony tried to snatch his phone back, but Bucky simply held him back with the metal hand and pushed him away.

Tony grimaced, “Way to suck all the fun out of it, Elsa.” But he didn’t protest as Bucky choose the song and asked the mobile version of JARVIS to play it through the speakers of the park.

“Trust me, Tony, I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself,” Bucky whispered the last bit in Tony’s ear as he pulled him in close, arm braced against Tony’s back and the other grasping his in a firm hold.

As if on cue, the opening strains of Dean Martin’s “Sway” started filtering through the park, the dramatic flourishes at the beginning matching the shift in Bucky. His posture tensed in preparation and his eyes hooded, intense focus directed utterly on Tony.

“You know how to tango?” Tony asked, shocked, as he was pressed into Bucky’s body, feet between each other neatly as if they were meant to be this close always.

“Don’t you?” Bucky challenged and unable to resist, Tony let his lessons from long ago take over his body, letting Bucky hold his body close while they fought for ground in the seductive dance.

He let Bucky direct him, but he made sure that he was just as an active participant. If Bucky spun him, he let his hands slide across the breadth of his chest. If Bucky moved him across the floor in a smooth sway, he leaned his head close as if to press a kiss to his lips before letting his body twist into an artful bend.

Pulling away briefly, Tony let his body fall into a kneeling dip, not resisting when Bucky knelt behind him and his arms came back around Tony, skin touching skin when their movement dragged his shirt upward exposed Tony to the warmth of Bucky’s hands.

Somewhere along the way, they lose all awareness of the staff around them, the crowd watching from the windows, everything but the press of their bodies together, the momentum of the spin. All that existed was the sound of the music that guided them, the crooning of Dean Martin mixed with guitar strings and violins.

They forget that it’s not real.

Ch 3 on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25622497?view_full_work=true

#consider reblogging if you like?#winterironshield #stuckony #fake dating #post-civil war #enemies to lovers #stony #stucky #winteriron #vengeanceworks #fanfiction #fanfic

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