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funnyexel · 3 years

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Yandere Villain x Reader

A/n: Wow. Since so many people liked my last “yandere” drabble. I’ve made another one. You could call this more of a yandere story. Enjoy, my lovely’s <3 Masterlist Mega List

Getting into this relationship wasn’t the problem per se you love him and this relationship but there are times he can be a bit extreme...

A few firm knocks are placed upon your door. You sigh and take slow footsteps to the door, unlocking it and cracking it open. “Good evening, Ma’am.” The officer greets you. “Evening, officer. Is there a problem?” You ask him in a calm manor. “Have you hear about the damages?” You hesitantly shake your head. “I just got back from the grocery store. What happened?” You ask with slight concern. “Long story short, there’s been some damages on and near the property. Since, you don’t know anything. We’ll be going.” You wave the officer off, closing your door and resting your back against it. With a sigh, you continue to unpack your groceries.

“Good evening, Ma’am.” A strong masculine voice mocks. You roll your eyes at him, ignoring his presence as you put your beverages in your fridge. “Your not going to check on me? Darling, I was in a gun fight.” You scoff at his words. Putting the grocery bags away, you finally respond to him. “You’re mocking people like a child therefore you seem fine to me.” Your voice echoing through the kitchen. You see him before you hear him as you spin around on your heels. “I’ve been gone for two days and someone manifests a bratty attitude.” His rather dry palm caresses your cheek. Leaning in you can feel his breath on your neck, the sensation sending sparks of electricity through you.

“Being a brat gets you nowhere, love.” You lowly whimper at his tone. Your hand strokes his clothed forearm, a little squish sound given at the action. You lean into him momentarily to smell him, soon pulling back. “You reek. What is that sewage water?” You pinch your nose during the statement. “Yeah. Where do you think I’ve been for the past two days?” Pushing him into the bathroom, you shut your blinds and turn on the bath. “How am I going to get you to not smell like sewage water...” You mutter looking through your bathroom, for any candle, soap or something strong enough to get the stench out. You look to the tub expecting him to be inside, to your dismay he wasn’t. “get in the tub.”

You state. He shifts his head back, not fond of your wording. “please.” You add, looking back to the cabinet. The sound of water echoes in your bathroom. You find a strong candle and a rocky soap. Uncovering the candle and placing it at the edge of the tub, you put the soap next to it. “Could you?” You point to the candle, looking at him. With a faint hand motion he sets the candle ablaze. “I kinda like you taking care of me.” He exclaims as he sits back and relaxes in the tub. “Don’t get used to it.” Grabbing his clothes from the floor, you head straight to the wash room. Putting the clothes to wash on the longest mode. “sewer for two days.” You trail off as you look for a fresh towel and new clothes for him.

Stepping into the bathroom, steam flows out. “So, our bathroom is your own sauna now.” You say as you close the door. He hums to your statement. Putting the clothing and towel on the sink ledge, you kneel next to the tub. “This should help.” You say pouring a clear liquid in the tub. Setting the bottle on the floor you put your arm on the tub ledge and rest your head on it. Studying his relaxed state. “are you staying tonight?” You ask in a low voice. He smirks, turning to you with his eyes closed. “It looks so.” You smile at his words. “When your done with this come to the bedroom.” You rise to your feet and stop at the door. “I won’t hesitate to send you back in here if you still smell like sewage water.”

Making your exit out the room, you quietly scramble. ‘Thank god, I got a wax yesterday.’ You race into your room to the closet. “Black or red.” You hold each pairs of the lingerie in either hand. “fuck it, red it is.” You basically rip your clothes of, put on the lingerie and an oversized shirt. Hearing footsteps approach, you jump into bed and put on the tv as if your going to watch something. “That was fast.” You say eyes not leaving the tv. Your eyes finally rip away and look to the door. You look around a bit more. “Honey?” You ask, slowly reaching under your pillow. The feeling of cold steel, fills your palm as you cock back a hand gun.

Quickly putting on a pair of shorts, you scope out your room and closet. You hum in confusion, swiftly going to the hallway then living room and kitchen. Approaching the bathroom, you check behind you once more before entering. He was putting on his shirt. “Eager are w-” He cuts off his sentence as his eyes trail to the gun. “I think someone’s in the apartment.” You say in a low voice. He puts his arm in front of you, guiding you away from the door. With a towel still on his head, he steps out the bathroom. “what do you want?” His voice is muffled through the door. “You are under arrest.” A stern robotic voice orders. “I don’t feel like getting arrested right now. How about tomorrow? Better yet, never.”

You groan, feeling annoyed that you don’t know what’s going on beyond the door. “If you do not comply, I will not hesitant to bring you by force.” She says. Your face fills with irritation and confusion. “If you feel the need to fight. I’ll gladly take this outside.” You could hear the balcony door open. “I believe there is no need for such action.” You busted through the bathroom door. “Nope! No one is fighting in here.” Your eyes land on a cloaked figure. “Fighting stays outside.” You point to the balcony door. “Who are you?” A genuine question is asked. “I’m the owner of this apartment. Who are you?” You finish your statement with a question.

“I am a Special Services Officer, currently helping the heroes detain present villain Cold Flame.” She whips out a pair of special handcuffs. You stop her before she can get any closer. “Could you seriously take this outside? I’m not the only person living in this complex.” You ask. Without another word being uttered, she walks to the balcony and jumps off, expecting him to follow. “Thanks, darlin-” You place your finger to his lips to interrupt his sentence. He gets the idea, placing a lingering peck on your lips then jumping off the balcony aswell. You heavily sigh, slowly turning your head to the door as footsteps become louder. Your moves becoming quick, going into the bedroom and changing your clothes.

All the while, packing a backpack of clothes. The click of the thigh holster echoes in the room. “hmm. I guess this did come in handy.” You say about the thigh fabric, placing the gun on safety and shoving it into the holster. Leaving the room and escaping onto the balcony, you pull down the ladder. Climbing down it with haste as you see splinters of the door fling out the apartment. “Running will only make things worst.” A voice pounds into your head but it soon gets put to rest, the sound of tires screeching replacing it. The rough wind blowing through your clothing as you struggle to place the helmet upon your head. “Great, now I have heroes following me.”

Your voice muffles through the helmet, looking back you see two heroes on your tail. “Wouldn’t be the first.” You trail off, looking back to the front and taking a sharp right onto a bridge. Swerving in between cars, earning honks and annoyed yells. In the distance a figure stood in the middle of the road, squinting your eyes you see a familiar hero. Steadily approaching this hero, you think of a plan of interaction. Tires screeching, indicating a hard stop. You step off the bike slowly. “I’ve got her.” He says into a ear piece. Slowly removing your helmet, crouching down to place it gently on the floor. “Yeah, nice and slow. Now walk over to me.” You nod to his words but other thoughts run through your head.

As your steps drifted to the side of the bridge he began to take notice. “Hey! No!” He called out to you as if that was going to change your actions. Beginning your movements with a backwards jump off the bridge. You reach in your holster, flicking the gun off safety and shooting the bike. Creating a perfect diversion, your body now turning mid-air, you put the gun back to its resting place as your body molds into a diving position fully off the bridge and into the water. The water wasn’t as harsh and cold as you expected it to be. Moving your limbs swiftly under the water, your hand meets a big metal piece. Swimming up to the surface of the liquid, you gasp for air and push some hair out your face.

“If you want him unharmed come on the bridge.” You whip your head around the surroundings. “you’re sick.” You whisper as you climb onto the bridge leg. Steadying your breathing, you lean against the metal. A small whistle fills your ears for a split second, but by the time you realized what happened it was too late. You managed to close your eyes as you lose control of your body, falling back in the water....blacking out.

Your eyelids flutter open. Your pupils dilating at the orbs staring back. His scent smoky, his face filled with dark spots. Sitting up in his arms, you see... “is that a burning building?” You squint trying to confirm your allegations. “sh..sh..sh..lets go home.” He hugs onto you a bit more than before. “a movie?” You rap your arms around his neck as he lifts you up bridal style. “yes, the one you were talking about last week.” You give him smile as the fire bursts into a blaze heat. But that’s all behind us now as he says.

#yandere scenerio #yandereboyfriend #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere villain #villians #any gender y/n #male x reader #short story #short fanfic #yandere x y/n #yandere

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hualianff · 3 years

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Ice Skating AU

The road to the Olympics was quite lonely for figure skater XL. XL’s parents supported his dreams at the expense of his health and mental wellbeing. XL’s coach, JW, purposefully isolated XL from other competitors, which further distanced XL from the peers who were envious of his talent and achievements.

After the Olympics–XL winning silver, much to the public’s pride–he suffered from detrimental injuries as a result of being overworked and malnourished; JW had put him on a strict diet and training schedule that was ultimately unsustainable. It took over a year for XL to successfully settle a lawsuit with minimal media coverage and monetary consequences.

Three years have passed since he retired. XL currently owns his own rink, teaching kids and adult skating classes on the side.

When XL competed, everything was so stiff and uptight. It got to the point where he wasn’t enjoying it and came to resent the sport in the end. When XL teaches, however, he gets to laugh with his students. He happily lends them a hand when they need it (unlike JW, who was harsh and trained him as if he were a machine). He celebrates with a student every time they land an improving pirouette, relishes in the pure joy in their eyes.

That’s how ice skating should be. Challenging but always fun.

Now, XL truly loves the managing and teaching aspect of the new role ice skating plays in his life. Owning a rink also allows XL to occasionally indulge in his old skills and routines. With no pressure to perform for anybody but himself, XL is free.

HC, a film grad school student, is forced to take a skating class after losing a bet with HX. HX’s partner, who had come up with the consequence on HX’s behalf, suggested a place called Wings, claiming they are “just trying to promote a fellow friend’s business.”

HC almost didn’t follow through with the penalty. He already knew how to skate. (His natural ability to quickly pick up any athletic activity is envied by all his friends.) Upon seeing just who the teacher was, however, HC reconsidered.

After all, losing a bet is no joke.

HC attends the evening class. He wears tight-fitting jeans and a maroon, long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. The film student asks for extra help on his form despite knowing there’s not much to fix.

Understandably, XL is a bit baffled how this one tall, handsome stranger keeps asking to be guided into the correct position and spotted while skating across the rink when it seems he’s capable of balancing on his own. But XL is in no way complaining! And if XL happens to stare directly at HC’s small yet perky ass as he skates behind the taller man in case HC crashes, no one has to know.

One week passes. Then another. And another.

One month later, HC keeps coming back for classes.

“San Lang, you don’t have to pay for any more classes. You already skate well enough on your own!” XL informed his newest regular with a knowing smile.

“But then I won’t get to see Gege as often,” HC insisted with that charismatic smirk of his. XL hoped his face didn’t give away how flustered he was on the inside.

“W-well, the rink is not very busy one hour till closing time. You could always come in to practice. And I can watch you from the side!” XL said, looking off to the side. “Free of charge,” he added.

HC tilted his head, pondering. “Hmm, that sounds lovely. You’ll skate with me too?”

“Haha, sure! If there’s no one else on the rink,” XL laughs.

HC nodded. “Fair enough. However, I will be paying the amount I owe Gege. You cannot convince me otherwise.”

“San Lang-“

“No exceptions, Gege!”

They’re so close, XL realized. HC leaned forward on the counter which is the only barrier separating them from touching chests. XL allowed himself a couple glances at the muscled pec straining against the fabric of HC’s shirt.

“Well, San Lang can pay me back in a different way, m-maybe?” the former Olympian suggested. HC quirked an elegant eyebrow. He really was too pretty for XL’s poor heart to handle.

“Oh? What does Gege have in mind?”

Ignoring how suggestive HC sounded just then, XL built up the courage to utter one word: “Dinner?”

Much to XL’s surprise, HC visibly malfunctions by choking on his own spit, as if he hadn’t expected XL to be so forward. HC clears his throat right after, sputtering a measly, “O-oh?” 😳

XL doesn’t say anything else. He stands motionless while waiting for the younger man’s answer. 🥺

Luckily, XL doesn’t have to wait more than ten seconds before HC composes himself, standing back and placing his palms on the counter, satisfied.

“Dinner is perfect.”

XL: 🥰

HC: 😇

Things only got better when HC came around. Suddenly, XL wasn’t alone every night he closed. HC diligently visited every night he could when school and work permitted. They skate together as promised, HC commenting how generous XL is for offering special “private lessons.” XL is positive HC makes these innuendos on purpose and selfishly hopes HC doesn’t say them to anyone else but XL.

Funnily enough, XL has made his own fair share of innuendos–though completely unintentional.

(XL while skating with HC: “You’re doing so well, San Lang. Go faster!”

HC, raising an eyebrow: “Gege likes things faster?”

XL: 😳😳 “EEEK, I mean the speed you’re going at. I-it’s too slow-“

HC: *nods* “Whatever Gege wishes.” *winks at XL before zooming away*

XL, chasing HC: “Wait, how are you moving so quickly!?”)

(HC falls ill on a Friday when he would normally visit the rink. With no meds and a killer headache, HC texts XL to cancel their lesson.

XL: “San Lang, do you need medicine? I’ll come for you”

HC: “Gege 😳😳😳”

XL: “TO***** My finger slipped 😅”

HC: “Gege is getting quite bold now, isn’t he?”

XL: “San Lang!”)

***

It all boils down to a game of tag that got a little too competitive. It’s HC’s turn to tag XL. They’re zipping around the rink like flashes of light, the sound of their laughter echoing throughout the open space. Where XL is elegant yet sharp as he evades his pursuer, HC is aggressive and heavy as his skates dig into the ice in his haste catch XL.

“Gege is too fast for this poor San Lang. It’s too unfair,” HC complains, though he has no reason to as he gains up on XL for the third time.

“Ahhh, no no noooo!” XL shrieks as he’s chased into a corner by a sneaky HC. In his attempt to turn around to escape, XL is crowded against the clear divider between the rink and the lounge space by a smirking HC. One last duck is countered by HC rushing forward to lightly secure his hands around XL’s waist.

XL’s breath quickens as HC slowly leans down, a certain tenderness behind his eye that makes XL positively melt inside.

“Caught you,” HC mutters, his long braid falling haphazardly down his right shoulder. XL shyly looks down, pinned by HC’s inquisitive stare. A large hand comes to gently grip his chin, lifting his head to meet HC’s face. “Do I get a reward?”

“What does San Lang desire?”

HC’s eye flickers down to XL’s lips. XL’s eyelids lower in understanding. And relief. Then, under some unknown source of confidence, XL lifts his chin invitingly.

“It's your reward to claim,” he whispers. HC’s face splits in shock before morphing into an awed expression. He cautiously nudges XL’s nose with his own, making XL instinctually smile.

“Gege has indeed become bolder,” HC utters.

He promptly seals their lips, which curiously meld together before separating. A tentative peck. XL is the one to slant their mouths together again, pulling HC down by the lapels of his jacket. They experiment as they press together, pull apart, then meet once more in delicious bliss.

XL hums as HC takes control of the pace. The taller man holds XL close, caressing his waist as they languidly make out against the divider. XL whimpers as HC cups his cheek lovingly. There’s a warm brush against the seam of XL’s mouth. He gladly parts his lips, welcoming the sensual slide of HC’s tongue inside. HC doesn’t let up, eagerly licking along every hollow and crevice of XL’s mouth.

When XL playfully nips at HC’s upper lip, HC firmly presses XL against the divide, grunting as he’s provoked. Another cheeky nibble has HC pulling away, raising a challenging eyebrow at XL. Using the diversion to his advantage, XL surges up to wrap his arms around HC’s shoulder, running the flat of his tongue over HC’s lower lip before coaxing him into another sweet kiss. HC smiles approvingly, allowing XL to lead.

HC gradually shifts their weight so he skates backward, guiding them around the rink as they unhurriedly explore each other’s mouths. The scuffling of their skates paired with the slick sounds of their kissing serves as their own music and rhythm. XL surrenders to HC’s movements by resting most of his weight against the taller man.

“I knew you knew how to skate this whole time,” XL murmurs against HC’s lips. HC chuckles as he traces XL’s cupid’s bow, then places a chaste kiss to XL’s cheek.

“Always so perceptive, gege.”

“Hmm, it’s hot,” XL says without thinking. HC smiles in amusement as he switches to skating in circles, gaze never leaving XL.

“What is?”

“You skate with the confidence of a pro,” XL answers. He steals another kiss to HC’s lips, eyes crinkling as he smiles happily.

“Good thing I had the best teacher.”

“Oh, stop it, San Lang-“

“Make me.”

XL puffs his cheeks out in faux annoyance. But he can’t hold back a beaming grin as HC mimics his expression, over-exaggerating the pout that makes him look like a child whose candy was snatched out of his hands.

“If you insist,” XL sighs. He gives no other warning as he pounces, winding his legs around HC’s waist. HC effortlessly catches XL by underneath his thighs, pliant as XL crashes their lips together, hungry for much more.

(Brainchild with @no-one-says-hi)

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #tian guan ci fu #hualian #hualian au #cerdrabbles #modernau #fluff #figure skater xl #film student hc #first kiss

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abbabycchio · 3 years

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I GOT UP TO 603 FOLLOWERS?! OMG THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! 🥰🥰💕💕💕💕

As a thank you I wrote a sexy Mista x FemY/N one shot so I hope you enjoy. (WARNING EXPLICIT!)

Mista smiled as he looked at you. Your eyes so beautiful, full of happiness as they squinted in delight, your plump lips stretching into a smile as your laughter filled his ears. He watched enamored as you tried to stop giggling from his silly joke.

Oh he had it bad, and he knew he did, since the moment you were introduced to the gang he knew there was something special about you. He was constantly mocked and jeered by the team whenever they caught him staring at you, or when they saw his lovestruck expression as you walked in the room.

But as much as he wanted to flip them all the bird or kick their faces in, they were right. He was in love. Since finding that out he did everything he could to subtly hint his feelings for you. But every time you would just giggle, blush and turn him away.

Today was the day though, Giorno set you and Mista on a “stealth mission.” Just go to the dinner party, gather intel, and come back. Everything was going smoothly, he finally had your undivided attention, no more mocking from the gang. And you had both gathered a lot of intel from the table gossip alone.

And to top it all off you were desperately trying to control your laughter after one of his jokes.

“Mista?” You asked, you had called his name a few times but he hadn’t noticed.

“Yeah? sorry, what’s up sweetness?” The nick name made you blush, but you ignored the urge to smile. “I asked if we should sneak out towards the Boss’s office and steal his documents. I think Giorno would be more than happy to have the bastards plans, along with what we figured out from the guests.” You reasoned. In all honesty you didn’t want to leave the table, you were having a good time, but you were still working.

Since you joined the gang you’ve been enthralled by Mista. Something about him drew you closer, you couldn’t tell if it was his care free attitude, or unreasonably handsome looks. Or maybe it was his loyalty. Regardless you were happy to have some time alone with him. He seemed more relaxed, like he was having as much of a good time as you were.

“Yeah let’s go.” He agreed about to stand. “Wait Mista no!” Whisper shouting you pulled him down. “If we just get up and go we’ll look suspicious.” He nodded a bit and sat back down.

“What should we do then?” He asked leaning in closer, you leaned in to, noticing how his face flushed red when you did. “This.” Is all you replied with as you pulled his tie towards you, slamming your lips onto his.

“Wh-at?!” His voice cracked as he exclaimed quietly. You didn’t reply though, focusing on the kiss, and how many people were watching. You felt as he relaxed into the kiss, now kissing you back passionately, a big smile plastered on his face making him loss his rhythm every now and then. You pulled back, giving him a half lidded sultry expression, raising your voice a bit so a few tables would hear, “Shall we go to the back and continue this?” He visibly shivered at your words, the succulent tone making his pants grow tighter as he imagined what would happen.

As you dragged him to the back you’d both giggle sharing short pecks in between steps as you approached the big door leading to the rest of the estate. Mista silently thanked Giorno for helping him get ready for tonight. He was nice and groomed, rather than his normal stripped attire that, “caught to much attention” as the Don put it, he wore a tight black shirt, hugging all his shaped muscles perfectly, kept his stripped pants, and ditched the hat letting his dark brown curls frame his face.

Mista leaned forward for another sweet kiss as the door closed behind him only to be met with nothing. He opened his eyes seeing you looking behind you, both of your hands gripping his biceps.

“Okay I think the diversion worked, lets find that office.” Turning back to him you saw his face falter, a frown flashed his lips before dispersing into a serious expression. “Yeah, I think a few of the Bosses lackeys turned this way earlier.” He said turning towards the adjacent hall.

“Mis-“ You tried to ask why his attitude changed but he cut you off by shrugging past you. Sighing you shook it off and followed, soon reaching the Boss’s office and looting his office for all the important documents.

“Hey are you okay?” You asked as you carefully walked down the halls to avoid any on lookers. “Yeah,” he started with a sigh, “just peachy.”

You turned your head back towards the hall lips pursing your lips in concern. He sighed again glancing at your expression. He didn’t want to make you feel guilty or upset, goddamnit why’d you have to be so fucking cute. “Listen Y/N..” he was about to continue when the sound of foot steps and walkie-talkies filled the room.

“Mista quick gimmie those!” You demanded silently. Already stuffing the folded documents into your outfit. “Now c’mere!”

You pulled Mista towards you slamming yourself into the wall, him caging you in his strong arms, he looked down at you red faced. “For fucks sake Mista come here!” Wrapping your arms around your neck you pulled him back into a steamy kiss, slinging a leg around his hip, and pushing your crotch to his. He groaned at the pressure leaning in closer pushing your chests together as he deepened the kiss.

A hot surge of desire shot through your body as you felt his hardness poke at your thigh, his muscles grating your chest as you felt up his waist. Him trailing kisses from your lips to your jaw, then to nibbling your neck.

You mewled in delight, forcing your eyes to open slightly. “M-Mista!” You gasped in pleasure eyes wide as his clothed length pressed slightly onto your folds.

The lackeys had long passed at this point, seeing that it was just two guests getting frisky. And Mista had known, so had you. He just wanted to relish this a bit, and you hadn’t told him no yet.

“Ah- mmhn Mista..” His heart fluttered at the sound of your voice, just the thought of your form writhing in ecstasy because of him fueled him on.

Grabbing the leg around his waist and pulling it up he ground harder onto your clothed sex, going faster with every gasp and chant of his name.

“Ah- Fuck” he groaned into your neck as he picked up his pace. Your cries getting louder with each flick of his hips. “Mista! Mmm, fuc- M’close!” You exclaimed before catching his lips into a kiss.

He kissed back enthusiastically, feeling that knot of relief building up at those words. Keeping his crotch on that pace as he felt you come undone, while chanting his name.

By the time you came he was groaning and panting your name finishing himself. As you rode out your high, the pleasurable over stimulus getting more sensitive.

After that mission things had gotten a little uncomfortable between you and Mista. You couldn’t tell if he regretted it or not, and you both acted casually enough when with the rest of the group, but when you were alone together the air felt tense.

You could tell he felt the same but, you didn’t know if that was good or not. You like Mista, but what if that was just a one time thing, and he feels weird now because you work together.

You held your head in yours hands as the thoughts ran through your head. “I’m over thinking this.” You tried to reassure yourself as you poured yourself a glass of water.

“Over thinking what?” A weary voice called from behind you.

You turned quickly putting on a fake smile only to be met with the face of your troubles. “Hey! Nothing- Um weren’t you supposed to be on a mission with the others?” You tried detailing the conversation.

Mista sighed quietly, leaning on the door frame. “Are you thinking about our mission last week? Listen Y/N I’m sorry, it won’t happen again, geez I’m sorry.” Your fake smile faltered at his words. “Mista- do you, do you like me? Like, like like me?” You stuttered out clenching your eyes shut ready for rejection.

“I mean yeah. Yeah I really like you, love even, have for a while.” Your eyes popped open, he stood closer to you now. “What?” You choke on a breath unsure if you heard him correctly. In response he pulled your hand to his lips, looking into your eyes. “Y/N, I love you.”

You jumped up into his arms catching his lips, to which he happily excepted, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Ahem-“ You both whipped your heads to the door, Bruno standing in the door frame smiling. Abbacchio stayed behind grinning while Narancia had his phone pointed at you two. Fugo slapping a 50 into a smirking Giorno’s hand. “Oh my god Trish is gonna freak!” Narancia shouted.

You shook your head, hiding your flustered face into Mista’s shoulder as he placed you down

“Piccola merda! dammi quel telefono! e andate tutti a fanculo, avete mai sentito parlare di privacy?!” [“Little shit! give me that phone! and go fuck yourself, have you ever heard of privacy?!”] You Laughed as you watched Mista cuss out the team sending the Sex Pistols to snatch Narancia’s phone.

#jojos bizarre adventure #jojo golden wind #jojo part 5 #vento aureo #send asks #guido mista #jjba #THANK YOU FOR 600!!#jojos bizarre adventure vento aureo #jojos bizzare adventure golden wind #jojo guido mista #guido mista x reader #im on a mista craze rn sorry #jojo mista #mista x reader #mista #jjba mista

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blankdblank · 3 years

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Poke Pt 10 - Poker Face

…

All in swift succession a wedding and a baby on the way on the top floor of a casino in the perfect setting for the celebration that Pepper had dreamed of the plans were shared for a ceremony in India for a certain level of privacy in renting an estate there. As linked as Loki’s plus one you were granted your own invitation and to follow the dress code would wear your white gown sleeveless gown coated with golden branches that stemmed from the waist out. Because you were upstairs Peter was allowed to attend as long as he didn’t head down to the casino and when the party had dipped into the second half and a clear need for privacy when Stark gave his usual hint you and the other guests gave them some space. Loki regrettably accepted your peck on his cheek and sighed at his inability to join you down in the casino and entertainment avenues floors below.

However under strict watch of four sleuths working for the casino watched you at your seat at the blackjack table in the figure hugging golden number with accents to frame your curves perfectly on the thick strapped wonder with another low dipping cleavage cut. Enough to distract many, and to Eddie’s glee as he camped out keeping watch on Hippy McGee, Big Ears was in your view a couple tables over and kept noticing the hushed comments of said paid shadows who had watched you go from setting down your grand in chips to eight grand in less than an hour.

Suspicious himself the dealer waited until the signal then flashed you a grin stating, “I apologize, however my time at this table is expended.”

“Oh, do you accept tips? Or is that just a film thing?”

Weakly he chuckled and said, “We do accept tips.” And he accepted the chip you offered him, “Thank you.”

“Sorry,” you giggled out, “I’d have offered sooner. First casino trip, mainly play online no tips involved.”

He chuckled and said, “Understandable, good luck.”

“Thank you,” you said then smiled to the new dealer who greeted you in return and got to watch you amp up your winnings to fifteen thousand that had the second dealer who looked you over as you said, “I think that’s enough for now. Only needed ten really,”

His brows arched up asking, “For the tournament?”

You nodded, “Little likely to win, but any spare funds for college is helpful, so if I lose at least I have four to walk away with over my original grand.”

Relief washed over the guards as the news that you were pooling those funds into the buy in on the tournament that you noticed Big Ears was headed for. And with 260 bodies in filling the allotted seats you were among those who hadn’t paid ahead and filled up a stunningly small group of amateurs amongst the flocks of professionals who were out for a championship free boost to their pocket books before the big game in a few weeks down in Vegas.

Basic chips were allotted for starting bet pools while your clutch rested in the secured drawer above your lap after having been checked and locked there like the other players in each table for their personal items to prevent cheating. Lost to the flow from the four other people around you the 52 tables steadily emptied in each depletion of chips. And with each empty table from the final player in each belongings were freed to move groups of five players filled the second round of the tournament. Guards again were present and in Big Ear’s view you were clearly being watched as whispers began to spread that you weren’t losing hands. Bluffs or clear victories were now casting second and third glances towards the remaining amateur in their midst on your way to the approved bathroom break without your still locked up clutch.

The third round began and in the empty of more shows or dinners at the choice of eateries inside this palace of greed and impulse the viewing room that had a growing audience to watch the wall of flat screens displaying the action. Yet you and the others had no clue in the sealed off hall to keep things running smooth without spare bodies in the way or chance for outward influence. Rows were split off and the next group of winners would simply move to the next row to meet their new opponents with clear crates of chips in tow to make ease of the moves. Some wouldn’t find comfort in a tournament like this, so many were used to sitting in one place for a time and as the you hit two and a half hours you didn’t know it but a relieved exit of the top floor had Sam and the Super Soldiers in the viewing room and Sam easing his phone out of his pocket to call Tony who was still upstairs. “Hey, um,”

“Poker tournament over already?” Tony asked pouring himself a drink.

“You’re not going to believe who’s in the final round.”

“Try me. I would wager Big Ears is down there, he’s been boasting on it all month. Him and Flay, they have a sort of thing back and forth for years.”

“Pluto.”

“Pluto what?” he asked lifting the glass already feeling Loki’s eyes on him for saying your name.

“Pluto’s at the table.”

Tony chuckled, “She did not have ten grand to enter the tournament, stop joking, who’s at the table.”

“Pluto, and she’s 800 grand up. She’s bluffing with threes.”

Tony paused and snapped his fingers, “Three minutes,” he hung up and the whole group was down to catch the back end of that hand for his scoff to the clear ease of the final ten grand from Flay who demanded to see your two down cards before he would leave. This for one of the few at this table to have a monster hand and the still amused unreadable expressions that none of the guys at the table seemed to be able to read. Eddie in the audience having completed his task an hour ago and was concerned at the lack of an answer to his texts found himself grinning widely to the sight of a shift in your seat to alleviate the numbness in your hip for the annoying seam in the back of your skirt you tried to avoid with a slightly irritating angle had Big Ears smirking widely and in his turn to bet shoving all his chips into the pot.

You didn’t lose and his try to bluff you out of your seat had him out of his own and cursing his way from the room for the Pro on his right to smirk watching your mini mountain of chips grow even more almost to match his own at 7 million for the largest pool at the table. Loki asked lowly, “What is the motivation behind this game?”

Which Natasha answered, “A battle of deception. Best liar wins the biggest pot.”

Tony asked, “Why did she get in the tournament in the first place?” he asked to Peter’s slip into the room behind a bigger adult’s back to hide between Thor and Loki.

Eddie answered, “I asked her to help me with causing a diversion.” Tony raised a brow his way and he said, “Can’t explain.”

Thor asked, “If she wins, how much does she get?”

Sam, “Depends on how many are at the table. If she’s the last one she wins 25 million, before taxes.”

Peter asked, “How much are the taxes?”

To which Tony said, “25%, so she’d have shy of 19 left.”

Pepper with an amused grin said, “Either way being in the last eight, she cleans up her accounts well enough.”

Bucky asked, “How long has she been playing poker?”

Eddie said, “Taught her to play after we met when she was stuck in bed healing. Started online poker on her birthday.”

Steve, “And in casinos?”

Eddie answered shocking them, “First time in one.” Deepening Loki and Natasha’s smirks as you smoothly deceived every single person at the table able to swing another win on a lucky three of a kind over all the other players’ single pairs. There was no taps, no signs of any cheating involved and still it was stunning how the mountains of chips soon gravitated their ways to your corner and another person was escorted away.

By the final player however as the men traded hand shakes and the third place finalist removed his enforced tie at the classy dress code enforced for this to be broadcast for a Bond themed event to line up with the next film coming out that the actual actor who played James Bond himself was amongst the judges watching the game up close curious of who would win out and if your win streak would continue. “So, when you come in second what are your plans for the 20 mil?” he asked cockily adjusting his own dwindling collection of chips.

“College mostly. Degrees are expensive.”

“Let me guess, Communications and Interior Decorating?” He joked with a sneer to the chuckling judges.

And with the same unflinching smile you answered, “Underwater basket weaving actually.”

He pointed at you, “Funny.” Cards were dished out and after two winning hands and eyes that refused to leave your casual smile in the small allowed crowd for any hint of a way to tell what you were up to this hand for the round bet your opponent was almost cleaned out by and had grown twitchy, uncertain of what to think as you stole your usual only glance at the card.

He could win it all and at your ease of four stacks into the middle to up his ante and chance of continuing this game for much longer and higher nail biting ratings and yet to the shift of his eyes and try at a calming exhale that trembled like his sweaty hands he shook his head. The two cards he had left were tossed in the center of the table and stunned silence for a few moments as he said, “Fuck it, second is good enough to get away from this table.”

It was just a flinch wider your smile twitched and he had snapped and to the claps and muttered congratulations no one but the actor in their midst with awe in his hand shake and comments on your success was broken by your opponent’s lift of your still uncovered cards that had the room explode with noise after he said, “You bluffed me with a pair of twos?!”

And to muffled giggles you accepted your clutch and welcomed the chance to get a picture with the actor who walked you to the win station where you were given your check post tax cut of a voice wavering amount of 18.75 million you tucked into your clutch. And to Tony’s side as he bled into questions you asked one of your own that stunned him, “What bank do I take this to? I don’t think mine would be able to deposit this much.”

Tony said, “I’ll take you to mine.” The others moved onto the dessert bar stop as he drove you to his bank to help guide you into the exclusive place that was more than eager to get ahold of your meager funds compared to his fortune to keep one of their best customers happy. One was kept in a separate fund account while the rest was put in a savings account to match the one that Eddie for his own laugh worthy bet on the winner of you for first place deposited his 5 million dollar nest egg that would keep you both from ever being homeless if the worst came about and you were named to the public and had to run for it. Choices the Billionaire had to respect for the sums collected by the pair of you in a matter of stunning hours.

Stolen glances and whispers your way didn’t stop his continued urge to see you safely back to the group as now your face would be out there as one of the largest female poker tournament winner for raking in a 25 million pot. Surely you had Eddie to check in but taking you back to that apartment in Queens didn’t fully sit right with him as you were young and alone and now visibly richer than most peers of your age who didn’t inherit their funds. He knew how people were vultures when the smell of gold was in the air and now you were known to have a whole hoard of it. Although the thing to really ruffle his feathers was in your return when the press had already ran online stories on the second place winner’s comments that he just wanted to let a young girl pay for her education so he folded and let her have the few extra million in the larger pot next to his. A statement that in Stark’s agitation had him enter the dining room of the eatery of your choice inside the casino to celebrate saying, “You’re going to WSOP next week in Vegas.”

He settled into his seat flashing Pepper a smile as you finished chewing and asked, “Excuse me?”

“Sort of slipped out. He said he let you win and no woman has won the main event let alone reached the final table, one has gotten a chair away, next week, I’ll pay your buy in since I put you into this and then we can skip this whole thing like it never happened.”

After a glance at Eddie you said, “Fine, I’ll see where we can book a room.”

“No need, I got a penthouse with enough for all of us who want to go, we can take my jet and I’ll even set you up with a spa day if you like.”

“I don’t go to spas, most of them have nothing but lavender and I can’t breathe around lavender. Not even mentioning their obsession with nuts.” You said closing your menu and flashing a grin to the wide eyed waitress in charge of your table who came to take your orders.

Irritation somehow for the discovery that the glass and utensils Mesique had used being clean of any sign of use was short lived as Tony readied the plans for the trip to Vegas and let the entire press world this young poker protégé was going to have her butt in one of those final nine seats. All the way from the pitch black arrival to the stroll up through the lush hotel flashes of light recorded the elite entourage you arrived with and the Prince who kept tight hold of your hand and waist. The plushy bed was just what you needed and for the hour until buy in time was begun you stared at it longingly over the shoulder of the woman summoned to the room to give you a manicure. At least the focus of which you could choose and from her limited supply of choices you picked a glittery teal base with black octopus stickers to be clear coat on top to have something unique for the cameras since thanks to Tony there would be people watching to see where the kid placed.

This was gonna be twelve hours so along with your jean shorts a baggy maroon sweater was a must. With the sleeves bunched at your elbow you left your hair down and slung over a shoulder, adding your bolero hat on the way out to go and buy your seat. Flashes again captured everything from your maroon wedges Steve had bought you and everything else to be picked apart to see what you might have bought since your big win last week. Arguably amongst the hoards of hoodies and sunglass wearing masses you stood out a bit and in line you waited chatting with Tony in his try to help sharing lowly about the poker pros who were on the other end of the sign up hall that all stole glances with you and the famous face at your side reminding them of just where this new kid would be. Already in the elevator he’d passed you a bundle of hundreds that you handed over and filled out the information card and accepted your entry sticker you added to your shoulder and turned for the spot you were meeting the others at for breakfast.

“Pluto Pear,” you heard turning your head to the man you beat the week prior who bought his own seat a bit ago, “You really went with Pluto again, huh?”

At Tony you glanced asking, “Was I supposed to pick an alias? I can call myself Orion and buy a fake mustache if that makes you feel better.”

The guy looked you over as Tony said, “It’s her birth name not a nickname.”

“Man that must suck,” he said on his stroll away.

“I’m a cosmic force of rebirth and riches unlike your glorified boyfriend moniker, Beau.” You said strolling past him turning him to glance back at your back while Tony fought not to chortle.

Tony, “Always bad sign to mock the name of the God of the Underworld, planet hasn’t been the same since they started commenting on his planet’s size either.”

“I’ll pay you back from my winnings.”

“Don’t you worry about that, this is all my fault you’re here. I tend to bump people into things lately.”

“Like a certain impending baby bump, congrats again. Can’t wait to see the flying stroller you invent.”

“Pepper would launch me at the sun,” he said making you chuckle as he did for how wound up she was and how nervous he was. “I fought aliens, and this is a baby, somehow way more terrifying.”

“You could talk to Clint on how he handles it.”

You said and Tony looked at you, “Handles what?”

“He’s got kids.”

“He what?! This is the first I’m hearing of it.”

“Ah, he mentioned watching the Kung Fu Panda films with his kids and they loved it. Might have slipped out by accident. But I’m sure it’s mainly nerves at this point you’ll both calm down or scream your way on this terrifying rollercoaster of the next two decades.”

He chuckled again and into the eatery you strolled finding the table as Loki stood to ease out your seat beside his with a kind grin, accepting your peck on his cheek he followed with one of his own while Tony asked Clint, “So Clint, how are the Wife and Kids?” After his open mouthed stare Tony said, “Spill your secrets.”

Loki chuckled staking his own seat asking, “Did the sign up go well?”

“The guy I beat last time, or well, who came in second thought Pluto was a fake name.”

“His name is Beau, he has no grounds to debate the superior name.”

You shrugged, “He can say what he likes, Pluto fights back with a vengeance.” You said making him chuckle again and steal a pat of his hand on your lower thigh closer to your knee.

“You will be fantastic.”

Natasha said from her seat on your other side, “More than fantastic, today you are going to be historic.”

You giggled and said, “Just have to get through 7990 people to get to that historic spot, and 9 more to do the unthinkable.”

Thor said, “They are no match for your deceptive skills. Only the best could be bonded to my brother.”

Sam, “You got a poker face from a whole other planet. Nobody could figure out your ticks even our super spies here.”

Loki said, “I am certain your brother will be watching you if you are feeling nervous.”

“I’ll be okay. I’m glad he’s actually making some headway with his story.”

The belly filling spread was a good start to the day as soon enough the start of the 12 hour stretch of the first day of the Main Event kicked off. Every hand stirring up more gossip as one by one the other women in the pool of players got bumped off leaving just you on the cusp of what could be history. And while other women had won some of the smaller events this was so much bigger, and you had to celebrate this round with food.

“Ooh, sliders, and potato skins, and pizza.” Two tables worth of food was rolled up and had you all sampling the variety you craved after twelve hours that broke into your usual snack schedule that Loki smiled through his learning more of this new wave of cuisine you favored.

“Is she like a secret body builder that none of us know about? She eats more than Thor does.” Tony whispered to Sam who was already noticing how Bucky and Steve had tapped out in their silent try to eat more than your petite self.

Sam, “I don’t know. Maybe she’s fueling up a growth spurt? I had a cousin that ate like that as a kid and just one summer he shot up like a foot.”

Tony said, “Maybe she’s just a snacker, every few hours and twelve hours without food and she is just, eating a whole buffalo.”

Sam said, “Glad to see a girl with a healthy appetite. My sister has a hard time making friends with girls who can’t knock back a few burgers.”

Tony said, “Must have been fun having a sister,” making Sam look at him in another glance around the group, “Always thought about having a sister.”

To which Sam replied, “It’s a lot like your relationship with Misique,” making Tony look up at him, “You kinda wanna kill them, but then someone makes them cry and then it’s like how you cat with Pluto. You hate them, love them, can’t stand them, but you’d blow up the world to keep them safe to fight with another day.” He paused then said, “You could ask her to be your sister. Pluto’s got to be the second richest person in this room and smart to boot, could even give you a run for your money if she had the chance.”

Tony nodded and said, “She’s made some good choices, got a fund for school set up and the rest of the money went to savings. Maybe with this money she wins she’ll buy herself a safer place to live. Her place is tiny, it’s got these windows without bars on them. Not safe.”

Sam chuckled, “Ooh, you’re gradually adopting yourself a baby sister, big man.” Patting him on the back.

Twelve hours and as the final woman standing with a scoop of the Dealer’s hands your pot grew collecting the last of the chips from another poker giant who fell to what he assumed to be a bluff only to slam face first into a gasp worthy full house of clubs. Claps and cheers sounded as you exhaled and took a glance at the other tables still going strong. Lowly to the watchman near your table you whispered and were guided to a bathroom break after having finished off another bottle of water. An approved pack of cheese crackers from the table of snacks were opened and eaten with the wrapper thrown away by the time the final table was ready for you to even look at let alone make the walk to the chair with your last name on a sheet of paper taped to the back of it.

Amongst the final ten seats from the tray your fingers eased the chips you had collected into neat piles and gave a subtle adjustment of your hat over your curls as the rolled up sleeve on your open flannel from Eddie shifted in the cross of your legs. Stares were common in each opening of the front of the borrowed shirt revealing the tight black t shirt you had on underneath to keep from having your cleavage on all the press shots of you as distant shots from the crowd the day prior had captured just about every moment of your bared legs. Though with a third seat emptied to a convincing bluff from the pros who tried to both defend their record of having won here already many times before with the bracelets on to prove it they took to adjusting in self soothing motions as if to remember that they were professionals even if your chip hoard was growing and the 12 million pot was becoming more attainable with every hand dealt.

While the latest guy was escorted from his seat the man to your left asked, “How long have you been playing poker?”

“For money, not long. Normally play online until last week.”

“One week? You’re kidding me.” Another of the guys replied.

You shrugged and said, “Not that hard to learn when playing against people.”

Another of the men chortled to the deal of the next round, saying, “Not easier at all. Learning to tell who’s bluffing or not.”

“Not that hard.” His eyes shifted back to you as you said, “I can hear your heart beat from here.” A faked laugh was your reply and to your cards you reached to lay them in place for the camera under the ridge to show the commentators what you had. Though it made little difference when another man bumped himself out of his own seat. Gradually the table emptied as they became bolder in aims to empty your seat, something you rarely risked by betting more chips than necessary to egg them on.

And across from the final player in your way everyone with baited breath watched as the bets were finally laid out and to two Aces already on the table he said over his empty chip section to match your motion in a bold motion. “You aren’t bluffing me out of my seat. Three Kings!” he said with a grin you mirrored and raised a brow mid shoulder pop lifting the cards you had you flipped over and fanned out making him cover his face as he heard the dealer say, “Four Aces. Miss Pear wins.”

Press from their booth came over as the head of the tournament still in disbelief at handing over the diamond and ruby bracelet shaped like a championship belt boxers or wrestlers win. WSOP was on the front underneath the year, and in each square section of the diamond accented golden band were ruby and onyx accented hearts, diamonds, spades and clubs. Behind the stack of the 12 million in bundled bills like a tiny fortress you stood with your winning hand on display for the smile filled pictures. After which you were glad to shrink back into your group and let the guys have their usual stops into the game recaps with the former champions for guy talk on all of their favorites to pretend that this year just hadn’t happened. Eight more million after taxes were added to a new checking account for spending in the new bank Tony took you to once again to secure those winnings safely.

Alone in the back seat of his car on the way there he said to break the silence, “You ever think of a house?” You glanced his way and he said, “I know a realtor, we could look in Queens if you like.”

“I have twelve pieces of furniture.”

“You can always buy more you know.”

“What would I even do with a house?”

“Whatever you want. Even have villains target it with missiles like my old place on the coast. My neighbors don’t like me much.” He said stealing a glance at the necklace your fingers stole a stroke of as you glanced outside the window in the startled squeal of two friends running into each other after a long time apart. “Your parents would want you to have a nice place,” he said turning your head again. “Doesn’t hurt to look.” He said in a drop of his gaze to his phone while you blinked away the brewing tears at all you imagined your parents anticipated for you now light years away.

Pt 11

All –

@sherala007, @mariannetora, @jesgisborne, @knitastically, @catthefearless, @theincaprincess, ggbbhehe4455, @lilith15000, @alishlieb,

Not nsfw(smut) - @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore

X Loki - @pastelhexmaniac

#Plots and Planning #Poker Tournaments #Loki x OC #Eddie Brock/Venom & OC Siblings #Howard Stark #Sam #Bucky Barnes #Marvel

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moonfox281 · 3 years

Note

Ok but when Dick found out that Jeff and Trevor are alone and have no one je basically adopted them, made them dinner, told them to go to sleep, listened to their problems, comforted them (with a slight cuddles shhh) when needed and most importantly - there was someone that truly cared about them

Writer note: Moonie got very sick and wrote this in a hospital, so when I was typing out with only one eye open, I missread the prompt and it turned quite different. Sorrrryyy....

Dick grimaced when watching Jefferson munch on his half-eaten sandwich. They were on watch duty, Dick’s night ended early so he decided to come over and help the boys an eye. Half the night through and Jeff pulled out a thin foil package under his kevlar and started chunking on that saucy thing.

“Is that your dinner?”

Jeff turned to look at him, nodded, squinted his eyes and went back to his sandwich.

“If you know him like I do, that’s not even worth an entree.” Commented Hank as he poured out hot coffee from a thermal bottle and handed it to Dick. “But we’re on duty, what can we do, right?”

“You boys all eat like this?”

“Pretty much.”

“What about off duty days?”

“I don’t know, I can cook. Heck Blue, I work at your favorite coffee spot. But this guy though, I guess he just sleeps. God knows he can burn the house down if you give him a frying pan.” He pointed at Jeff and laughed out loud. Joke aside, Dick really believed him. He had seen it with his own eyes how Jeff held a kitchen knife like he was about to stab someone when Dick asked him to help with the onions.

“But how does keep his 6 packs with eating like that?”

“Ooh, you’ve seen his packs? Nice huh!”

And that was how the very next day, right before Jeff was about to take John to school, Dick ran to the doorway thrusting a cotton wrapped box to him.

“What…”

“It’s your lunch.”

“My what?”

“Your lunch. Here.” Considering the dumbfounded look Jeff was wearing, Dick found no delicate way to explain it but opening up the box out to show him. “It’s a lunch box. You seem like a strong eater, so I put quite a lot in.”

“There’re fried chickens in there.”

“Oh, that’s right. It’s sweet garlic sauce, John really likes it. There're also green beans and carrots.”

“What are these yellowy things?”

“Egg rolls.”

“Egg what?”

“Egg rolls. They have corn and cheese inside.”

And then there was silence. Just silence, for roughly 5 or 6 minutes, probably longer because they only snapped out of it by the sound of John jamming Jeff’s Jeep down the street for the wait.

“Blue… I don’t know...” Jeff, the 6 feet something brick of scars and muscles, was shuttering through words and words holding out the little lunch box in his hands like carrying an egg carton.

“It’s okay, just take it.” Dick smiled, ruffled his head (oops, bad habit). “Just don’t eat junks down the streets, I’ll cook for you. I need my soldiers to be topnotch, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” He looked like he was about to cry.

So, that was how things started. From that day went on, there was a story about the head of Red Hood gang’s task forces going to work every day with a little lunch container wrapped in wrap cloth. The menu was extravagantly diverse, from sea food like lemon baked codfish, tempura squish, and teriyaki salmon, to little treats like fried cutlets, homemade chicken nuggets, spicy dumplings and Vietnamese spring rolls. There seemed to even be an aesthetic balance in nutrient settlement, carbs, protein, and greens all in one box, not to mention the delicate arrangement. In short, it was Chrismast every lunchtime, watching Jefferson opening his lunchbox.

Of course, the secrets lasted for a week, top, and soon everybody found out it was the gang’s dearest Blue that had been playing Jefferson’s fairy godmother this whole time.

Shocker, everybody seemed to have lost their ability to crack an egg since then.

“I got shot last night, oh...it’s my dominant arm too, now I can’t even turn my stove on.”

“My power was cut at midnight, now all my food is ruined. I don’t know what to eat in a week!”

“I don’t know about you guys but I’ve been living on canned foods and frozen meals for months, if only someone would cook a proper meal for me one day...”

Did Dick figure it out right away? Heck, he didn’t even need a detective license to see right through them, but he tolerated it anyway.

The thing was, the task force consisted around 12 members, and Trevor too (this man didn’t even have to word it, he just stared at Jefferson’s lunch box with those dreamy looking eyes) and Dick, unfortunately, only had two arms. He couldn’t feet 13 chunkers at a time. So he made a schedule and cooked for two persons at a time, and moved on to the new ones the next day. It kept everyone happy, and kept Dick busy. Since marrying Jason, he had lots of time, lots of it.

Of course, words came around, and one day when Dick was doing meal prep, Jason came from behind hugging, slugging down his shoulder, half mumbling down his hair, half sniffing his nape like a dog.

“Why is it that everybody seems to have your lunchbox and I don’t?”

“Is that so?” Dick half-ass asked back. He was busy writing things down and Jason’s clinging arms around his waist, plus the dead weight on his back were all in the way. “Don’t you regularly eat out with clients and business partners? Like today, what did you have?”

“Teppanyaki.”

“Hmm, how lavish.”

“But I want your lunch box!”

“You’re saying you want brown rice and chicken lollipops over wagyu beef and scallops?”

“If we’re talking about your homemade chicken lollipops and brown rice, yes sir.”

“Don’t you have an image to keep? What would they say if you went to work in suit and kevlar and a bow tie wrapped lunchbox?”

“And what would they say if everyone else is getting a dip in your cooking while the husband himself doesn’t get a taste?”

Okay, point taken. Sensing a loss in this conversation, Dick pecked Jason’s forehead to win back the playing field.

“You know what Tobu said? You remember Tobu right?”

“Yes, I remember him.” It was harder to forget that man, to be honest. “Don’t tell me you talked to him about this.” Dick was an idiot, when Jason said he had teppanyaki for lunch, he should have realized it was with Tobu.

“We talk occasionally. He said a homemade bento box tells more about affection than any given word. So pleeease...” followed up with some questionable muffled sounds.

Needless to say, Dick was very much annoyed.

So, short story, that was how Dick found himself standing in front of hundreds of wooden lunch box designs the next day, trying to figure out which type suited his protein chunker the most.

“Are you getting one as a gift?” The shop helper asked.

“I’m getting one for my husband.”

And she made a series of questionable high pitch squeals.

Needless to say, Dick was very much tired.

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diaryofabeautyfiend · 3 years

Text

Reader would like to apologize for the decision Steve Rogers is about to make. No smut just sadness.

Small Time Witch (24)

F I V E Y E A R S L A T E R....

.....And so far you’ve survived. Your days are not without moments of melancholy. Your thoughts meander back to the days when the two of you would sit quietly in your loft reading the day away. The music of old book pages turning and tea cups clinking onto saucers filled the air. The song still plays but it only plays for you.

You’ve become somewhat reclusive over the years. You’ve stopped going to the bar and haven’t talked to Jason. It’s just as well. Hopefully he’s found someone to help him move on. Maybe he’s happy.

Despite your official hermit status you are happy. You have a routine and just enough human contact to keep you from going completely insane. Friends come and go. Some stay the night sometimes longer. You welcome human contact in controlled doses. Some you welcomed more than others. Mostly you enjoyed your self imposed solitude.

Sometimes you take the trip to visit Hilde. She is taking care of the day to day business in New Asgard since Thor doesn’t come out much. She is always exciting and happy. When you need that she is happy to give it.

Today you are heading up the coast to meet her. When you hit a certain spot you put down your windows so the salt and brine of the ocean can fill your car. It smelled like Hilde. The air is crisp and the wind biting. Your hair whips your face as you sing loudly with the radio. She meets you at the entrance to the city with a big smile and a bigger kiss. With her you feel reborn.

“Your timing could not be more perfect. Thor has guests.”

You narrowed your eyes, “Guests? Who?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” You jumped back into your car and drove as close as you could to his hovel. You knocked on his door and Bruce answered. Though, it wasn’t Bruce. It was like Bruce and Hulk somehow merged to form a super Bruce.

“Y/n! Good to see you.” He wrapped you in his big green arms taking care not to crush you. “Angry girl!” He high-fived Hilde who smiled at you with immense amusement. “This is Rocket.” You shook hands with a raccoon. A freaking raccoon.

Thor glared at you, “I suppose they sent you in to bring me back as well.”

“Umm no. I was just here to visit Hilde. This was a pleasant surprise. I’m sorry bing you back? Is something happening?”

“We found a way to undo it all.” Bruce said with a cautious tone.

“Yeah but not Loki though so...” Thor looked was pretty drunk and smelled like he hadn’t bathed in weeks. Guilt rose from your chest and burned your throat. You should have pushed harder to see him.

“He wasn’t snapped so we don’t know. We’re going to try, Y/N.”

Your were filled when righteous indignation. No one bothered to even fill you in on their plan. If there was even a slim chance Loki could be brought back they should have told you.

Thor saw your balled fists crackle with electricity. “Y/N should come back with us. It’s the only way I’ll go.”

“I don’t know, Thor....”

“Bruce, I’m coming.” You looked back at Hilde who smiled though you could feel you were hurting her feelings. “Don’t leave without me. You..” you dragged her outside.

“You don’t have to explain yourself.” Tears shimmered in her eyes though she did her best to play them off.

“Yes, I do.” You pressed your lips against hers. She pulled you closer and deepening the kiss. Everything you had to say to her was in that kiss. I’m sorry. I love you. Goodbye. I’ll miss you. It was all there. Hilde was not one for flowery words. She was a physical person and that’s how you had to show her how much she meant to you. You pressed your forehead to hers giving a few more gentle pecks. “Thank you.”

“It was most definitely my pleasure. When you see him, tell him I kept you warm and promise me you’ll take a picture of the scowl on his face.”

“I love you:”

“I love you more.”

———————————————————————

Bruce’s words churned in your head the whole way back to the compound. They were “going to try”. You were sure that Loki wasn’t a huge priority. The thought made you angry all over again.

The Avengers had no problem overlooking his past discretions when they needed him. He was mostly tolerated because of Thor. Now there may be a chance to bring him back and they were “going to try”. It was going to be really hard not to melt someone today.

When you pulled up Tony was outside waiting for you. He opened the car door and took your hand. “Y/N. Good to see you.”

You sensed a lecture so you leaned against the car and folded your arms so he could speak. “Did Banner fill you in?”

“Not really.”

“We’re going back to get the stones. Like back in time. We’ve tested it. It works.....just as long as there are no fuck ups. So I guess it begs the question: are you going to fuck it up?”

“Not intentionally?”

He sighs frustrated, “Look, kid. I know Loki means a lot to you. We have to bring everyone back and if that means your boyfriend not coming back...”

“Husband.”

“No shit? Huh. If that means your husband. We have to sacrifice something.”

You were beyond yourself. Your magic jumped through your fingers wildly. He watched you eyes wide holding his hands up in surrender. “Kid. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like it sounded.”

“How many times did he save your asses? Yet you continued to punish him. Was his repentance not enough for you?! He sacrificed his life for that stupid stone. I don’t see anyone sacrificing you.” You raised your hand to knock him on his ass when Thor bear hugged you and dragged you away.

“Little sister you must control your temper. I will let you go if you promise not to kill anyone.” You struggled for a moment then relaxed against his chest. He spoke softly against your hair, “I want him back too. I miss him. If you can control yourself there is a way.”

He told you the plan to retrieve both the space stone and mind stone at the point of Loki’s arrest in 2012. “When they create the diversion you help him escape.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“You’re clever. You’ll think of something.”

Neither of you were thinking clearly. This was a stupid and not at all thought out plan. Neither of you accounted for the fact that he would be under heavy guard. The 2012 Avengers wouldn’t know you so they would be far less sympathetic to you if you were caught. And the biggest risk of all was that 2012 Loki was going through some things and was definitely not the same man you felt in love with. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if he figured out a way to use you and kill you when you were no longer needed. None of that mattered to you.

He waited for you to simmer down so he could bring you inside. You were met with sympathetic eyes and knowing smiles. You wanted to rip them all apart. The last eyes on you were Steve’s.

He gave you a quick hug hello and beckoned you into the other room.

“I haven’t heard from you in a few weeks. You doing ok?

Eyes closed. Count to ten. Deep breath. Don’t explode at the man. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because if we couldn’t bring him back I would have to watch you lose him all over again and I can’t do that. Tony ran the possibilities, honey. He’s not coming back. I’m sorry.”

“Mhmm. Well I’m here so can I help?”

His lip quirked up on one side, “You sure can, Princess. You can watch the platform and electrocute anyone who comes near it.”

Condescending prick. “No. I want to come with you.”

“Nope” he said with a pop of his lips.

“Steve, please! I just want to see him again. I’ll stay with you the whole time. I promise. And don’t tell me it’s dangerous. You know I can handle myself. Please.” You grabbed his hands and forced him to look at you. “I just want to see him. What would you give for that chance? What would you give to see the woman you love again?”

His eyes softened, “I’m looking at her.”

Your cheeks flushed. “I’m not talking about me.”

He knew you were talking about Peggy. And, you were right, he’d give anything. He couldn’t deny you this one time chance.

“Fine. But you stick by me and you do. not. do. anything. Promise me.”

“I promise. Thank you. You’re a good man, Steve. I love you.” You hugged him around his waist and he felt in his bones that this was a bad decision. He considered this his final declaration of his adoration.

“I love you too, Princess. Always.” He pressed the two pieces of Yggdrasil into your palm. He had kept them all this time locked away in a box inside of his sock drawer. Your eyes started to get a little misty. He kissed the top of your head and spoke softly in your ear, “Always.”

You all suited up jumped on the platform and hit the buttons. You landed in a alley littered with rubble from the attack. Hulk ran by smashing everything in his path. You split up into your predetermined teams and went to your positions.

Once you were in your new gear you joined the other men and women guarding Loki.

The closer you got to him the stronger the pull. You were falling apart inside. Every muscle in your arms trembled forcing you to reach out. To touch him. Your breath hitched in your throat and came out like a quiet sob. They all heard it. You shifted uncomfortably in your suit and your body propelled itself in his direction.

“Y/n, you good?” you heard Steve speak. He held his breath when you got closer to your husband. “Y/n keep it together. We are so close, baby” You held your finger to your earpiece and a high pitched ringing filled your ear. You cut your comms. “Shit! Tony, stop her!”

You were close enough to him now that he would be able to feel you. He had to know that you meant him no harm. You spoke softly so only he could hear, “Don’t look at me. When I say ‘go’ grab the tasseract and go. Blink twice if you understand.” He blinked twice and you moved away.

It all happened so fast. Scott triggered the arc reactor to short out. Present day Tony escapes with the Tasseract. You were supposed to follow behind him which you did. You felt Hulk’s rage emanating from the stairwell. In one fluid motion you pushed Tony towards the door and kicked the case which opened at Loki’s feet. He reached for the cube when he felt your hand on him. “Go!” and you followed with him.

Scott Tony and Steve made it outside with the spear. They argued for a second before Tony realized you weren’t with them.

“Where is she? Steve! Oh I’m going to kill her!”

Steve smiled and shook his head. “Come on, Tony. We’ll find another way.”

When they went back to the base in Jersey Steve began to feel all of the things he suppressed for so many years. He was a man out of time and felt like he had no place in it. He just wanted to get it right. Right now he should be old and surrounded by grandchildren. He was done fighting.

He never expected to see Peggy but there she was. Peggy wanted those things too. His eyes followed the curve of her crimson lips that he dreamed of kissing for years. He thought about your words. What would he give? Everything. When this fight was over he would give up everything. He made his decision right then and there.

#loki x reader #Loki x y #steve rogers fanfic #marvel #marvel witches #captain america x reader #mcu x reader #loki laufeyson #steve rogers x reader #captain america smut #loki angst #avengers endgame #the avengers

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phykios · 3 years

Text

honesty and promise me, part 4 [co-written with @darkmagyk] [read on ao3]

July twelfth dawns like any other day, Annabeth wrapped up in Percy’s sheets. She’s spent significantly more nights in his bed than she’s spent in her own apartment over the last two months, but who could blame her? This bed is literally to die for. Therapeutic mattress for the fucking win.

Percy, to her greatest confusion and chagrin, is a morning person. Well, actually, what he is is someone who runs on very little sleep for three weeks at a time, before crashing headfirst into his bed for thirteen hours. It is a decidedly unhealthy way to live, but it means that Annabeth is used to waking up alone. The nights where she gets to wake up with Percy are the nicer ones, sure, but his presence is suffused in every corner of the room, his smell wafting from every piece of sweaty clothing tossed haphazardly about the floor, so much so that she never feels like she is truly waking up alone.

Gross? A little. But the smell is oddly sexy, too, especially after he’s just come home from a run, all wet and glistening and flushed, panting hard--

Ahem.

The point is, when Annabeth rolls out of bed in one of Percy’s shirts (the one that says “Do You Even Lift, Bro?” with an image of a male dancer raising his partner, courtesy of one Jason Grace) and stumbles into the kitchen for one of Percy’s patented brunch specials, it’s a pretty normal morning. What catches her off guard is the spread: eggs and bacon, obviously, with fruit and granola and yogurt, but also an enormous tray of delicious, flaky croissants, perfectly crescent shaped, with little bowls of every condiment imaginable, multiple flavors of jams and preserves and Nutellas.

“Bounjour, mademoiselle!” Percy says cheerfully from the oven, perfectly accented, bending over to take out a tray. “Ça va bien?”

“Um… bonjour…” She pokes a croissant experimentally, and is equally delighted and dismayed to find that it is just as flaky as advertised.

“Take a seat, these ones just need to cool for a bit and then we can get started.”

Spring in his step, he opens the refrigerator, taking out the most beautiful cake Annabeth has ever seen in her entire life. Perfectly round, paper white, with little blue borders piped around the edge, but it’s got Annabeth feeling like she’s just been doused in cold water. “How the hell did you know it was my birthday?”

Immediately, she knows it was the exact wrong thing to say. His eyes go wide as the saucers on the table, mouth open in shock. “It’s your birthday?”

Goddammit. “Um.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Because birthdays were inherently a dumb concept? Because her father had to be reminded of her birthday more often than not? Because her mother had stopped sending her birthday cards after she turned thirteen, calling them a waste of money and resources? “I don’t know,” she shrugs, dipping her finger into the strawberry jam. “I guess I just didn’t think it was a big deal. Ooh, does this have rosemary in it?”

“Annabeeeeth,” he whines, plopping the cake onto the kitchen island. “I can’t believe you! I love birthdays.”

“Well,” she flounders, attempting to duck his sudden attention, “what were you originally celebrating? I don’t usually think of cake as a brunch option.”

He raises an eyebrow, not at all impressed with her attempts to change the topic, but he answers dutifully, “Originally, we were celebrating me being one month cig-free--”

“Percy!” Annabeth gasps, clapping her hands delightedly, and a little exaggeratedly. “That’s great!”

“But,” he continues, “now we’re definitely celebrating your birthday instead.”

“Oh, come on!”

“Nuh uh,” he chides, grabbing his phone and beginning to type something, “I am asking Nico to pick you up a birthday card as we speak.”

Oh. “Nico’s coming?”

“Well, this is his apartment. Part of the deal is that I make him breakfast. I think he’s bringing his boyfriend.”

“Is… anyone else coming?”

“Just a couple of people, my friends Frank, Grover, Rachel… I invited Hazel and Thalia, too, but I think Hazel told me she was busy, and you know Thalia. If it’s not at a crappy dive bar then the odds of her showing up are virtually none.” Percy pauses in his text, fixing her with an odd look. “You really don’t want anyone to know, do you?”

How easily he reads her is a little disconcerting, and also a thought that she just can’t handle right now. “I just don’t like people making a big deal out of it. You know, it’s just another day. I’d much rather celebrate you quitting.”

He holds her gaze for a beat, before smiling, finishing typing out whatever he was doing on his phone. “Yes, I am officially quitting. Cigarettes are terrible for you, and I do not have the money to keep up the habit. So, I swear,” he holds up a hand, “No cigarettes, no weed, no vaping. Not that I ever vaped before.”

“Oh, never?” Annabeth teases.

“Not ever.” He leans in, grinning that devastating grin that is seriously detrimental to her health. “You could not pay me enough.”

“Good.” She goes to meet him, pressing her mouth to his, sweetly and chastely, but swiftly turning deeper, almost against their higher brain functions, like they only exist to be here in this moment, lips against lips, tongue and tongue. She’s always hated the taste of cigarettes, she prefers edibles to blunts, and anyone who vapes is automatically dropped from her list of potential partners… but she’s never minded the taste of ash on Percy’s tongue. It was just another part of him, another facet of the whole sexy package.

Now, though, she has the full taste of him, unfettered and unfiltered, his morning coffee and his morning breath. It is disgusting, but again, oddly thrilling. This is Percy, stripped down and divested of all the trappings of blue lipstick and tight pants. She wonders what he thinks when he sees her like this, messy haired, face and ears empty of metal, last night’s mascara smudged all around her eyes. Given the way that he deliberately threads her hair through his fingers, winding the frizzy curls around him, pulling her close enough that the pristine cake is in danger from some serious smushing, she thinks he likes it just as much.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on which perspective, either Percy’s, Annabeth’s, Nico’s, or the cake’s, their little impromptu makeout session has cold water dumped on it before they can end up doing it on the kitchen island. The sound of someone unlocking the front door is almost comically loud, and they break apart, equally red and flushing.

“Gross,” says Nico di Angelo. “No heterosexuality allowed in my kitchen.”

“Take that back, you biphobic ass,” Percy says. “I have never been heterosexual in my life.”

“I’m not biphobic, I just don’t want to see you getting it on on my marble countertops.”

“Speak for yourself,” chimes in Will, setting down a grocery bag right on the spot which would have been ground zero. “Hi, Annabeth.”

“Hey, Will.”

“Nice of you to join us today,” he says, as though he doesn’t see her here all the time.

She offers her assistance in cooking or setting up, knowing full well that she will be firmly rebuffed--domestics are not her strong suit, by any stretch of the imagination--and is sent away with an iced coffee that Will has so thoughtfully bought for her instead of the birthday card she was dreading.

Soon after, the party is in full swing.

Well, she uses the term party loosely. It is fairly intimate, even with Nico’s enormous apartment making everything smaller. They have assembled an odd amalgamation of people: “You already know Nico,” Percy says, indicating the goth prince next to, “and Will,” his boyfriend, the perpetually cheery med student, next to, “and this is Frank,” a large, physically imposing man with a shy smile, next to, “Rachel,” a red-headed girl who looked like she just walked out of a paint shower, all making space for, “and my buddy Grover,” the guy in crutches who had immediately dropped into the single, out-of-decor, but extremely comfortable-looking loveseat Nico had placed nearest to the bathroom. All told, they look like the brochure for a community college who really, really wants to publicize how diverse their student body is, but with a kind of natural chemistry and camaraderie that those kids on that brochure could only dream of. “Everyone, this is Annabeth.”

They greet her, each giving a limp wave.

Then Percy leaves to attend to his brunch spread, but not before giving her a quick peck on the cheek. She can feel all eyes on them, hot and burning.

Silence.

“So,” Annabeth says, as awkward as a freshman in an orientation mixer. “What’s up?”

“Your hair is amazing,” says Rachel.

Hers is crusted with paint, a deep red that turns pink against the orange in the light, a close cousin to Annabeth’s, which is in dire need of a touchup, curls thrown in disarray by Percy’s grasping fingers. “Thanks, I--”

“So how do you two know each other?”

Annabeth blinks. “Friend of Thalia’s,” she says. “You?”

“Used to do ballet together,” Rachel says, brusque, efficient. “Frank, too.”

Frank waves again.

A beat passes.

Annabeth looks to Grover, who watches, bemused. “You, too, I take it?”

Another second. Then he laughs, weird, but hearty, a joyful bleat. “Oh, sure,” he says. “I’m a regular Baryshnikov.”

She can almost feel the room relaxing, heaving a sigh after holding its breath.

“Are you with NYCB, too?” she turns to Frank, shoving her hands in her pockets, fingers curling around the fabric there.

Shaking his head, he swallows his orange juice. “I mostly do modern and hip hop, now, music videos and stuff.”

Objectively, she knows that you don’t have to be skinny as a rake or bodybuilding champion to dance, but Frank is neither of these, a huge, sweet-faced guy with a healthy layer of fat around his face and torso--a strict counterpart to Percy, who could give the Belvedere Apollo a run for its money. “Have I seen you in anything?” Not that she really watches music videos, but she figures it’s the polite thing to ask.

“Um, maybe,” he shrugs, embarrassed. “I’ve been lucky enough to work with some really big people.” Though he offers no further details.

“Working on anything cool?” She asks, doing her best not to cajole.

He nods. “Percy and I have a thing coming out probably in the next month or so, with--ah, well. Can’t say.”

“Tease,” Rachel grumbles, tossing back her mimosa. “I’ve been trying to get the secret out of him for months.”

Frank smiles, secretive and a little smug. “Sorry. You’ll find out along with everyone else.”

“Do you work together a lot?” Annabeth asks. She had thought that Percy was strictly ballet--though, she supposes dancers do crossover work more often these days, if only for the money.

“Not as much as we used to, sadly,” he replies. “We actually lived together in Paris for a few years while he was contracted with the opera before I decided to come back home. Vancouver,” he adds at her unspoken question.

“Bit of a hike, from Vancouver to New York,” says Grover.

Frank shrugs. “I was in town anyway, and I haven’t seen Percy in about a year.”

Annabeth frowns, doing some mental math. If Frank hadn’t seen him in two years, then that meant… that Percy had been alone in Paris all that time. The man thrives off of friendship and social interaction; no wonder he was jonesing to come back to America.

“Remind me again how long you two were together?” Rachel asks, red hair bouncing as she cocks her head. A jolt goes down Annabeth’s spine, appraising Frank in an entirely new light.

“On and off for about two years,” says Frank, thoughtful. “But I just lived with him to save money. The rent in Paris sucks.”

“And you were the best roommate I ever had,” Percy says, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “Clean, good cook, better kisser--”

Frank shoves him away.

“You’ve only ever had one other roommate, other than Nico or your mom,” Grover points out. “That one guy when you first moved overseas--Frodo? Fedora?”

“Fyodor,” Percy corrects. “He was terrible. I didn’t know any Russian, he didn’t know any English, and our French wasn’t good enough to actually hash it out, so he just gave me a permanent cold shoulder.”

“Kind of a low bar, don’t you think?”

“And there was my roommate in Boston.”

Sharply, she turns her head. “You lived in Boston?”

“Yeah, for like a year. I told you I was with Boston Ballet for a little bit, didn’t I?”

Pretty sure he didn’t. She almost opens her mouth to retort, to ask when and compare notes, to mention that she lived in Boston, too, before remembering who she is with, swallowing her words.

“Fyodor hated you,” Frank hums, reentering the circle. He’d wandered away and returned with a croissant, dipped in chocolate.

“Trust, me, the feeling was mutual.”

“It must have been,” Frank says, “because I saw your new apartment after he kicked you out--that place made a shoebox look luxurious.”

Something in Percy’s face almost falls when Frank says that. Annabeth is sure there is a story there.

But Rachel laughs. “Annabeth, you have no idea. It was a Chambre de bonne ,” she says, exaggerating the accent, “which might sound super fancy and French and cool, but trust me, it wasn’t at all. It was this size.” She slaps the kitchen island, a little too hard, her third mimosa making her loose-limbed and loud. “When I visited for Thanksgiving that year I had to pay for the heating bill, because Percy basically refused.”

“It was cozy,” Percy mutters, suddenly very preoccupied with the half a croissant on his plate.

“It was not.” Rachel says. “It was sad and cold and small.”

Nico looks interested, but not nearly as boisterous as Rachel or Frank, “Was that the place…”

“Ye,” Percy cuts him off, “Yes it was.” He smiles, Stepford-strained. “But, then Frank came to town, and so did his grandmother’s money.” He slaps Frank on the back. “And I got a bathtub.”

“I still can’t believe that a ballet dancer lived anywhere for two years without a place to soak,” Frank says, shuddering.

“I can’t believe you waited until Frank got to Paris to get yourself a sugar daddy,” Grover quips. Percy throws a grape at him. Grover, to her immense surprise, manages to catch it in his mouth.

Annabeth can’t really be impressed. This is the second time someone has brought up Percy and Frank having a history. Something hot and angry curls in her stomach. But Percy is laughing.

Rachel laughs too. “Oh, he didn’t wait,” she says. “He had a bevy of sugar mommies for trips to Ibiza and Moscow and Beijing.”

“It was Tokyo,” Percy says, “and they weren’t my Sugar Mamas.” He turns to Annabeth, sheepish, but not actually shameful. “They weren’t. Honestly.”

“Uh huh.”

“They were mostly Kym’s friends, and sometimes we’d go out when they were in town, and if we had fun, they’d invite me wherever they were going next. And if I didn’t have to work, I’d go with.”

“I have heard rumors,” Will says, popping his head in, Nico attached to his hip, “of Percy Jackson, boy toy of the rich and famous of Europe. Is it true?”

“Yes,” Grover and Rachel say at once.

“Do you want to hear about that, Will?” Percy asks, “Or would you rather hear about the summer Nico came to stay with me and Frank before he started college, and slept with every single dancer in Europe except Frank?”

Nico waves him off. “Only because you were already sleeping with him, cause he was your sugar daddy. Not like I needed the money.”

“It wasn’t like that.” Frank says.

“And now that we’ve aired all of my dirty laundry,” says Percy, “I need to borrow Annabeth for a second.” Gently, but with force, he tugs her arm, his other hand around her waist, directing her where to go like she’s one of his dance partners. Usually, she minds--a lot. She’s not about to let anyone, let alone a man, tell her where to go--but, you know, it’s Percy. Alone time with him is never a bad thing.

He pulls her into the hallway, shoving his hand into his pocket. “What’s up?” she asks.

“So.” Mouth open, he pauses for a moment, just… looking at her. His eyes are soft, warm like the first day of spring.

“What?”

“Uh, nothing,” he shakes himself a little, pulling his hand out. “Sorry, I just--I know you said you didn’t want anyone making a big deal out of your birthday…”

Oh, no. She braces herself for the worst.

Uncurling his fingers, he reveals his present for her.

“It’s… a pin?”

“Yeah,” he smiles. “Remember when I took my sister to the Met a few weeks ago? They were having that thing on Egyptian jewelry? Well, of course we had to stop in the gift shop, and I saw this and just--you know, thought of you.”

It is a pin--one of those lapel pins that more often than not are added to a collection usually displayed on a backpack. This pin is a silhouette she recognizes instantly: the Parthenon, its columns and angles rendered in sterling silver, little grooves dug into the metal in an approximation of the fluting.

“Wow,” she breathes. “Thank you.”

“It was nothing.” His ears are pink. “Happy birthday.”

And then he hugs her.

After a moment, she hugs him back.

It’s amazing how she can have had sex with someone so many times, but feel so awkward giving them a hug.

“I didn’t, um, tell anyone else,” he says, pulling back. His hands linger on her shoulders, thumb tapping at the base of her neck. “But, I kept meaning to give this to you, so, you know, now was as good a time as any, yeah?”

“I love it,” she says, honestly. Which surprises her. “Thank you.”

She slips it into her own pocket, not even minding the sharp corners.

When they return, Nico has already cut into the cake. “You were taking too long,” he snips.

It really is delicious. Much, much later, Percy sends her home with a sweet, soft kiss, and one of the last remaining slices, rather than staying for dinner.

Percy is the kind of boy who goes to his mother’s for dinner every week. She had been invited, but also threatened with the promise of another cake, and his ten year old sister, who would “love to make you a present.”

It sounded nice, but Annabeth knew when she wasn’t really wanted, and so she demurred, citing a need for some solo downtime.

She hasn’t heard from Thalia in, like, four days, which meant she had probably gotten a short-term gig. (“You’re lucky, she’s had Jason paying for her phone the whole time you’ve known her. Before that, she was almost impossible to get ahold of.”) Piper would take her out to dinner tomorrow, “just because.” But they would both know it wasn’t true.

So, to refresh and relax after a long, harrowing day of socializing, Annabeth goes home.

Or at least to her apartment.

It doesn’t have a doorman, or the views, or the room, like Nico’s place. Nor does it have any of the people, the energy, the joy. Her furniture doesn’t fill it up. The most appetizing thing in her kitchen are the granola bars Percy had made the week before, or maybe the brownies he made four days ago. She sets her to-go bag of cake and croissants down next to them, a smorgasboard of Percy’s culinary prowess.

Despite the long hours, her clothes still smell a little like last night’s bar, and her skin has a faint patina of dried sex sweat, and smudged makeup.

She doesn’t want to start leaving things at Percy’s place--don’t want him to get the wrong idea--but she also occasionally needs to be able to touch up her eyeliner. She’s either going to have to find a bag that isn’t embarrassing to carry, or surreptitiously shove some eyeliner and lipstick next to the condoms in Percy’s nightstand next time they have a sleepover. Or raid Nico’s bathroom.

Regardless, she needs a wash something bad.

As she scrubs down, she does her best to focus on the lemon scent of her body wash, and not Percy’s perfect form, dripping with water. She tries to visualize her last trip to Sephora, not blowing him under the hot water.

It doesn’t really work, so she gets herself clean and gets herself off and considers just spending the rest of the day naked, in case the mood strikes her again. But it's only 5PM, and she doesn’t have Percy to cook her some dinner tonight, so she sucks it up and puts on some pants.

When she had visited Boston for work a couple of months back, Alex had insisted on taking her shopping, complaining that her sister and her friend Mallory didn’t understand Versace quite like Annabeth did, and that Blitz sucked all the fun out of fashion, anyway. Then, she had bullied Annabeth into buying a set of sweats, claiming it was because of the Grecian patterns, but probably because she thought Annabeth in that much purple would be funny.

But eventually, she had wheedled, cajoled, and threatened Annabeth into buying a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. After deciding to forgo a bra, because that is just one more area she has always fallen short in, she shoves on a School of Architecture underneath them. The crimson clashes terribly with the lavender and seafoam, but she kind of likes it. Piper would call it “artfully nauseating,” or something.

Besides, no one is going to see her but her delivery guy. And if someone did see her, someone like Thalia or Percy, well, the clashing colors would be the least of her worries.

She is folded into her couch, wedged into the corner, very much not looking up Paris Ballet clips from the past few years, trying to spot Percy in the background, when there is a knock on her door.

Not for the first time, she curses her lack of doorman--and then frowns. Who even knows where she lives?

Piper and Leo? Magnus and Alex?

Has she already ordered food and just forgotten?

Is memory loss a side effect of a SK-II mask no one had warned her about?

Tentatively, she creeps towards the door, opening it slowly. If this were a horror movie, the door would creak open, revealing the villain cast in the shadows of the hallway, holding his weapon of choice.

She sighs.

The man is only a few inches taller than her, and dressed impeccably in a t-shirt and jeans that probably cost half a year of her rent-- a big critique coming from her, since she wears a month of her own rent as sweats. His blond hair is impeccably combed, his tennis shoes impeccably white, and his smile the most charming thing you can find this side of the Brooklyn Bridge.

“Happy birthday, girly,” he says, giving her an awkward, one-armed hug, trying to avoid getting any of her facemask on his shirt.

“What are you doing here?”

“It's your birthday,” he reminds her, holding up the bag. “I told you I’d stop by last week.”

Had he? Maybe, and she’d just been too drunk or hung over to really process it. But maybe he’d also meant to, and then failed to follow through. Luke has a bit of a nasty habit of treating his intentions as the same as his actions. His intentions are good, usually, but it means that he often ignored the actual actions. Like how his intention was to support his mother in the best nursing home in the northeast, but his action was to work with Saturn, a very shady hedge fund, to facilitate it. Or how his intention was to have someone at a stuffy party to talk to, but his action was dressing up Annabeth as his arm candy because none of Piper’s models would call him back anymore. He hasn’t asked her to do that since, like, February though, thankfully.

“Sorry,” Annabeth says. “I just… you know I don’t like my birthday.”

He also has a bit of a habit of ignoring her distaste in a really blatant way.

He’s a little like Percy that way, actually.

She’d only ever told Luke about her birthday back in those embarrassing freshman days, when she’d thought he looked as good on paper as any Harvard MBA student possibly could, with a devastating smile to match. She’d been so convinced that he would be the right boyfriend that might finally get her mother’s approval, and she figured that her future husband should know her birthday.

“Come in,” she says, reaching for the bag, but he shakes his head and brushes past her, dumping his black back on the coffee table. Graciously, he doesn’t look at her as he starts to empty out its contents, giving her an opportunity to dart back to her bathroom and peel off her facemask. Luke would forgive designer sweats, but they aren't at the “just chilling in a facemask” level of a relationship.

When she returns, there is a small assembly line arranged on her coffee table: a stack of paper plates, a carton of Haagen Daas, forks and spoons, and a Milk Bar cake, all wrapped in its box.

“Is Milk Bar still the ‘it’ thing?” she asks. “With locations all over the country, I figured it would be passé by now.”

“I know it’s your favorite,” Luke says. “I don’t always have to choose the most popular thing.”

Milk Bar had been her favorite, that is true, right up until she’d started fucking Percy Jackson, and eating his food.

“Thanks,” she says, cutting herself a slice, and scooping herself some ice cream.

“That’s all you’re going to get?” he asks, cutting himself a sliver.

“I have had so much cake today,” she says. Milk Bar really isn’t as good as Percy's, but it reminds her of birthdays in high school, waiting for her mother to visit, sneaking out when she inevitably didn’t, convincing the local bad boy to buy her some alcohol. She eats it, eagerly.

Luke’s jaw drops. “You had a birthday cake? By choice? On your birthday?”

She shakes her head, swallowing. “No, I was at a party with some friends. They didn’t even know it was my birthday,” Until she had stupidly revealed it. Whatever. She just has to make sure he’s been excised from her life by this time next year. And maybe freeze some of his baked goods beforehand.

Luke doesn’t let her go through with her evening plans, which consisted basically of watching Legally Blonde for the gazillionth time while she slurped down some pierogies, but he capitulates to Roman Holiday , helping her put away the leftover cake and ice cream. “Thanks,” she says, when the movie was done. “I’m glad you came over. “

No one ever comes over. Thalia is her best friend, but Thalia would have questions about how she could afford the place, Piper never understood why she’d moved out here at all, and Percy… Percy was irrelevant. There is no reason for him to come here.

“I always like to see my best girl.” He smiles at her, charming and rogueish.

“If all those models you keep trying to date know that your best girl is an architect who lives in Brooklyn who you actually feed, that’s probably why they don’t want to date you back.”

Luke laughs, leaning over and knocking his shoulder against her own. “None of those girls could hold a candle to you.”

“God, you must be a terrible boyfriend.”

“Probably,” he agrees, sitting up and stretching, before reaching back to the bag he brought the cake in. “After all, you are the one I bring all the nice presents. But I think I’m a pretty good friend.”

He takes out a box, burnt orange, a black ribbon wrapped around it, because Luke is nothing if not predictable.

Annabeth sighs internally, quietly reminding herself that money is how Luke shows his love. And that she is wearing Versace sweats.

“Herm é s,” she says, pulling off the ribbon. “This box looks too small for a Birkin.”

“Do you want a Birkin?” he asks. “I can get you a Birkin.”

“I probably don’t need a Birkin,” she admits. Though maybe it would be nice to have one in her closet, if her mom ever calls her up for lunch again. She could show up with a Birkin and an eyebrow ring. Sweet revenge.

Luke waves a hand. “It doesn't matter if you need one, just if you want one.”

Inside the box is a scarf, the silk soft and smooth between her fingers, a pleasing gradient of oranges and reds and pinks and corals. When she unfolds it, laying it out before her, she finds a sharp, geometric design, columns stacked together like skyscrapers. Luke obviously had her in mind when he picked it out.

“Thanks,” she says. It’s pretty--perfect for an ambitious young architect with two degrees from Harvard who had moved to New York City with an offer from one of the best architecture firms in the world. And Annabeth has no idea where she could possibly want or need to wear it.

“Hey,” Luke says, suddenly soft, “don’t cry.”

Shocked, she reaches her hand up to her face. It’s wet.

Luke is probably the only person she will let herself cry in front of. She’d spent three years doing that in college. He’d seen her through heartbreak and hangovers, guiding her through it all like an aloof big brother.

“I’m okay,” she hiccups, wiping her nose.

He hands her a napkin.

Annabeth blows her nose, wet and gross. “I’m sorry, I promise I’m alright.”

“You sure?” He sounds sincere, but she catches him glancing down at his wrist.

“Do you have a date?”

“I…” At least he has the decency to look sheepish. “Just some guys at work. You can come, if you want.”

It could be fun. Hanging out with Luke can be fun. Get a little lit, take a business bro home, screw his brains out, send him on his way. But there’s an unspoken dress code to these things, and Annabeth just doesn’t wear Louboutins anymore. And the idea of fucking a business bro just… doesn’t hold any appeal right now.

“No thanks,” she nods, using the clean edge of the napkin to wipe her eyes. “I am going to watch The Search For Elle Woods , and you're going to strike out with some models, and everyone is going to be happy.”

“You really are so mean to me.” Luke complains, as she walks him to the door, before giving her another hug. “You sure you’re going to be okay?”

“I am.” She is different and new, but Luke is still her friend. She had survived. It would be okay.

“Well, call me if you need something.” He kisses her cheek, sweetly, without any heat. Perfectly platonic. “I love you very much. Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” she says, “I’ll see you around.”

“Always.” And he is gone.

She folds the scarf, going to put it in the dresser in her room, shoving it among a handful of accessories, gathering dust. She realizes, with a start, that she’s left a week’s worth of clothes all over her room on the way to the shower, and, with a sigh of adulthood, and the knowledge that if she doesn’t follow the ADHD gods and pick them up now, they’ll be there for weeks, languishing on her floor and stinking up the place, she goes to at least move them into her hamper. She rifles through ripped jeans and band t-shirts and black socks as she goes, checking each for anything like discarded change or a bus pass she doesn’t want to wash.

She shakes out the pants she’d worn out the night before, and therefore the entire day until she’d gotten home. There is a rather unfortunate stain on the knee that she can’t quite parse--ketchup? Chocolate?

Then she reaches into the pockets, touching metal, and she suddenly remembers her other birthday present for the day.

Pulling out the pin, she feels strange, hot in the face, funny in the belly, tossing the jeans haphazardly in with the dirty laundry. It's small and shiny, cheap metal for mass market production, and yet, she walks it over to the dresser, laying it down on the silk scarf like it's the diamond broach her aunt gave her for her sixteenth birthday.

She really is beyond Hermès scarves now. But that pin? Well, you never really can get more Annabeth--the middle school know-it-all, teenage debutante, college perfectionist, New York yuppy, or barfly and punk princess--than one of the greatest architectural achievements in human history.

She is still a little shocked by how much she loves it. How much it means to her that Percy saw that it was perfect for her.

And like so many times when she is confronted with an emotion she doesn’t like, she slams the door closed, and goes and watches a favorite movie from high school.

She does order dinner, eventually, setting out her meal in between texting Piper about brunch tomorrow. It's a whole thing, pretending that they’re not going out for her birthday, but eventually they agree on a time and a place, and she can eat her sausage and watch everyone practice the Bend and Snap in peace.

So she is very annoyed when her phone buzzes again.

Maybe the reservation fell through. Or maybe she doesn’t want Annabeth to show up in ripped fishnets, even though that only happened once.

Her stomach sinks when she checks her phone. It isn’t Piper.

Hello Dear, Happy Birthday. We miss you. Please call anytime. Love Dad, Mary, and the boys.

Below the text is a link, leading to a gift certificate for $200 to Sephora, which has Mary’s name written all over it. Aunt Natalie would have suggested Bergdorf Goodman.

Her hand clenches, momentarily overcome with the urge to hurl her phone against the wall. But there is no one around, so there wouldn’t be any point to it.

She stabs at a pierogi with a chopstick, and watches the girls dance on screen, humming along.

She passes out on the couch after midnight.

Her mother never called.

#my fic #darkmagyk #pjo #percabeth #the rivalry ends here #ballet au #slightly douchey big brother luke castellan ftw!!!!!

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takara-kaneko · 4 years

Text

Fluffweek Day #1: Firsts

FLUFFWEEK!!! I have been so excited for this for three reasons: 1. If you can’t tell, I absolutely love fluff. Like it’s amazing and it warms my heart and any time I can write it 2. This is my first Mysme week submission! Being able to participate in this was so much fun, and I can’t wait to do all of the days! 3. This is also my first collab with my love and soulmate, @deijnar !!! Her OC Vivian is such a wonderful character and the perfect pairing for my Seven. She is his whole galaxy- Not to mention, his esteemed Wizard Princess! This piece had so many blushes, keysmashes, and affectionate screaming; so I hope you will enjoy it as much as I enjoyed getting to write it. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy 💕

Sevian Day 1: The First Date Extravaganza!

(Seven’s P.O.V) Today is the day. Just knowing makes my heart pound with a strange mix of excitement and nervousness. It was hard to rest last night knowing that today marks Vivian’s and my first date. Of course, I have spent so much time making sure she has no idea what is going on. Just a regular hang out, she believes. Little does she know that I have planned out the whole day!... Well, loosely.

The two of us have always talked about a night under the stars, and at first, I thought maybe stargazing. But why stop there? We could explore all of the stars and space!! After all, space is one of the coolest places of all time, and I want my Wizard Princess to have the most fun as possible!

The planetarium is the destination, but how to get her to not know about it until it’s too late? Well, what is a magician without a little distraction? But best not to reveal all my tricks before it happens lol.

3 o’clock passes and I wait in anticipation until I can see Viv’s strawberry blonde hair and her bright smile. Immediately, my heart starts racing as my smile widens. She looks so pretty, so happy, just seeing her makes me feel so much brighter. She is truly magical.

I stand up and approach her, the butterflies in my stomach only making me feel more bubbly than usual. “Fancy meeting you here, madam!”

“Ah, I’m sorry, my dear subject, but I’m waiting to be picked up by my knight in shining armor. I fear I have no time to spare to talk with you.” She states with a fake sense of superiority as her laughter slowly breaks her act.

Her words make me stop, before bowing at her and gracefully grabbing her hand. “My Wizard Princess, I have searched the whole expanse to find you. Surely you must recognize your loyal knight!”

I rise once again, keeping her close to me. My cheeks begin to heat up as she leans fowards. “I have to act like the evil wizard’s spell worked on me. Of course, I will always know who my one and only Defender of Justice is.”

Her whispers tickle my ear, but it’s surprisingly pleasant. She stays there for a moment, but as I open my mouth to reply, I feel her lips softly peck my cheek. Once again, my heart hammers in my chest, I start to wonder if Viv can hear it with how close she is.

As the blush on my face refuses to go away, I return the gesture, kissing her lightly on her cheek, before quickly backing away. No more distractions, it’s time for the ’First Date Diversion Plan, #1’ ”So, what baked goods are we going to try to find today?”

Vivian doesn’t speak of a moment, the hue on her face probably as red as mine is. It takes a moment for her to reply, “Uuuhh…” She shakes her head and I can’t help chuckling silently at how cute she is being, “I thought, uhm… Maybe- uh, jelly-filled donuts?”

“Well, my lady, your word is my command!” I exclaim, offering my hand out to her, “I happen to know a place that offers great donuts! If I can lead you to my noble steed?” I gesture towards my car as I approach it, opening the door for her to get in.

The smile she gives me as she looks at me sends me to the moon. “Thank you, my knight!” With a light squeeze to my hand, she gets into the seat.

Getting in the car, I begin heading toward the planetarium. Keeping it a secret was so much fun, but I have a feeling she might catch on to the idea that we aren’t going to any bakeries. This marked the time to begin ‘First Date Diversion Plan, #2’!

I glance over towards Vivian for a moment before looking back at the road, “Hey, Yoosung asked me if I could drop off his bag for him real quick. Mind if we take a detour?” I ask, pointing to the bag in the back. It was just stuffed with another bag. bagception lol

She looks in the direction of the bag and smiles, “Did you guys have a sleepover?”

“Yeah, stayed up playing some LOLOL. He’s still trying to take my ranking. We stayed up all night and he just forgot to grab his stuff.” I even made sure Yoosung was aware this was my plan, though I’m not too sure how believable he’d sound if she called him.

Her gasp catches me off guard, and I look to her again to see the concern on her face, “Does that mean you didn’t sleep at all? We can postpone the donuts if you need to sleep!”

With a soft laugh, I shake my head. While it was true I didn’t sleep, LOLOL was hardly the reason. “Nooooo, it’s fine! God Seven is more than capable of staying awake after only one restless night.”

As we pull into the Planetarium, I stay in the car a moment. Would she want to? No, now isn’t time to get nervous. As her knight, I know she’ll love it. Turning to Vivian, I can’t help the blush heating up my face. “So… I may have lied about a few things.”

Huffing softly, Viv furrows her brows to seem angry, although we both know she isn’t… It’s really cute. “I knew it! You ARE too tired!” She reaches over, her concern beginning to show through, and softly cups both of my cheeks in her hands, “I think you even have a fever…”

My eyes widen at her response, this is not what I meant to happen. “No, I am more awake right now than I could ever be! Because, well… you see, I… Wanted to take you to the stars...” I mumble as I gesture towards the building, my face now probably as red as a tomato.

“This trip, Yoosung,” I continue, “It was all made up. Although, we are totally going to go get donuts after this! What do you say, Wizard Princess Vivian and her Godly Knight 707 being space cowboys for the day?”

We sit in silence. For a moment, I think that maybe she didn’t want to, but she quickly turns towards the planetarium, then to me, then back to the planetarium, and back to me. It was adorable to watch, but it was nothing to the look of bliss on her face as she leans over to me for a hug. “Yes! I say yes, it would be an honor to be space cowboys with my sweet, godly knight 707!” She exclaims, still wrapping her arms around my neck. I hug her tightly against me, committing this moment to memory.

Staying in the car for a little longer, neither of us are wanting to stop out embrace. With her with me, I feel as if I have everything I could ask for in the world. But as I remember why we started hugging in the first place, I relax my grip on her. “Then climb aboard, madam! The fun is about to begin!”

I step out of the car and quickly move to her side, letting her out of the car and offer my arm to my dazzling princess. Side by side, we make our way into the building. To show her the sun, the moon, the stars, and everything in between. All the things I want to give her.

Feeling Viv lean softly against me, my smile only brightens, “This is a wonderful idea, Seven. Thank you so much for bringing me here.”

There are no words I can say to express my feelings. Instead, I place a soft kiss onto her forehead before entering the building.

★゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★゜

(Vivian’s P.O.V) Being so close to him and feeling his lips lightly pressing against my forehead sets my head into the clouds. I feel like I’m flying; his warmth and the fluffy comfort of the hoodie he’s always wearing adds to the feeling of floating close to the sun. I only find myself back in my own body on the ground of the earth after we already entered the planetarium.

It’s breathtaking. Of course, we’re only in the foyer so far and it’s probably a foyer like any other, nothing special, some might say. But just being here with him, being here because he put so much thought into where we can go to spend an extraordinary day… There’s nothing more special I can possibly think of.

After looking around in awe, never letting go of his arm to bring a single inch between us, I turn to him. “Have you ever been to a planetarium before? Or only in real space?”

“This is an experience for us both. I’ve only been launched into space, never got to look at it from afar!” It’s an answer exactly like I expected of him and I mirror his goofy smile before we huddle together, chuckling. We probably look like two happy kids and, really, I can’t remember a time I’ve been this carefree and happy since I’ve been a child. Seven makes it extremely easy to be happy around him…

Before I can dwell on that thought, the big door in front of us gets opened and I gasp, buzzing in anticipation. “It’s starting!”

His warm, honey eyes reflect my excitement. “Come on, we have to be first to get the best seats!” Without any further hesitation, he nyooms into the room and drags me with him. I still can’t stop giggling as I follow him, never letting go of his arm.

Eventually, he deems two seats that he ensures me are exactly under the middle of the dome above us worthy to be our seats for the presentation and I just agree, not caring where we sit at all. Even sitting on the ground would be perfect as long as he is sitting beside me.

We get seated and I still hold on to his arm, not willing to let go just now.

“To be honest I don’t know anything about the stars except that they are pretty.” I look at him, hoping my smile can express the endless joy I’m feeling better than my words can. “This is so exciting, I can’t wait to learn something new!”

He leans in and gives me a meaningful look. “They won’t teach you this here or anywhere else because only the wisest specimens of mankind know this, but Saturn is actually the Beyoncé planet.”

My eyes widen as I lean in as well. “Are you allowed to share this well-kept secret with me?”

By now, his voice is nothing more than a whisper. “Because it has the rings on it.”

Unable to keep up the act, I dissolve into a fit of giggles while the lights dim around us. Suddenly, this feels extremely intimate and I’m glad Seven isn’t able to see how intense the blush on my cheeks is, thanks to the darkness in the giant room. Before I can say anything more, someone turns a magic switch and an infinite wave of stars washes over us, causing my head to turn to the ceiling immediately.

“Wow… This is incredible.”

I feel his eyes on me and shoot him a very short smile before I look back up. All these bright speckles around us are truly enchanting and I can’t bring myself to turn my eyes away for longer than a few seconds. A friendly voice starts to echo through the room and I have half a mind to try to find the woman with the microphone standing somewhere in the room, but I really can’t look away. So, instead, I just take in all the information presented to me and try to memorize them.

The moment only gets better when his hushed, soft voice reaches my ears. “When we go stargazing for real, we can know where all the constellations are.” This time I take longer to look at him and nod, trying to let my eyes speak for myself, hoping they reflect the happiness that is filling every inch of my body. I look down, looking for his hand. I hesitantly take it, lacing our fingers together. Not daring to look into his eyes anymore, I give his hand a light squeeze before looking back up, letting the voice guide me through the Milky Way.

Prepared for what’s coming, I put on the most serious impression I can pull off.

“And here you can see Saturn-”

I nod solemnly. “The Beyoncé planet.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Seven returning the serious nod. “You’re learning well, my space padawan.” He turns back to the screen before laughing at himself and I have to place my free hand over my mouth to not let the giggles become too loud as well.

After that, it doesn’t take the planetarium long to cast its spell over me once more and while I keep my eyes glued to the dome for the entirety of the show, I let my hand rest in his.

When we get back into the foyer after the presentation, it seems to be even more beautiful than when we came in. Because now, I’m holding his hand. Being with him tends to make me lose any sense of time so I’m a little surprised when we step back outside and find the sun already setting. Not willing to part from him yet, an idea pops up in my head. “If we wait a bit longer, you can test the knowledge I gained today immediately, space sensei.”

“About that….” He shyly turns his head away and I think I spotted a hint of pink on his cheeks. ��Care for a drive? I may have a spot picked out for your space test.” With a smile on his face, he looks at me and his cheeks are definitely pink. Maybe almost as pink as mine.

I nod. “I’d follow you to the end of the universe.”

★゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★゜

Ahhhh! I hope that you enjoyed it!

If you enjoyed this, check out @deijnar’s page! If you want to read more of my works, see my Masterlist! Interested in a commission? Click here! And maybe get me a ko-fi? And remember, look at @mmfluffweek for tons of more heartwarming content!

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randomoranges · 3 years

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Anniversaire [40]

i remembered i forgot to do this one that i’ve had in mind since - eum, a year ago? anyways good thing i never write anything in order lol

end may/early june 2020

It’s a few days before Étienne’s heading home and they’re making the most of the last of their time together. Therefore, Edward is sitting outside on the back porch with Étienne. The back porch seems to have become Étienne’s go to place when he’s not sprawled on the living room couch and Edward feels as though he’s never spent so much time in his life simply sitting out in his backyard. It’s not terrible, just different.

“I don’t know if you remember,” Étienne starts and spares him a glance, “But this year – well, this summer marks a – milestone of sorts for us. Sort of.” He shrugs, looks away and Edward notices the colour that marks his cheeks. It’s not from the sun and Edward needs a moment for his brain to kick back into gear.

He’d never ever ever expected ever Étienne to ever even remember ever.

Ever.

He blinks and looks at him with surprise, completely astounded. Part of him wants to pull him in close and kiss him silly; another more sensible and logical part of him says that maybe he should check to make sure they’re both talking about the same thing.

“It’s – well, it’s forty years since we –”

Edward cuts him off, afraid of what Étienne is about to say – of how he’ll react to whatever extremely ridiculous thing his boyfriend is about to say.

“Became special friends?” Edward offers instead and holds himself from wiggling his eyebrows in any suggestive way whatsoever. It’s best to make light of it and joke. He’s not sure he can handle Étienne say something meaningful and deep.

Étienne shoves at his shoulder and laughs. “Yeah – special friends, fuck buddies, since we – well, I guess started spending more time together and seeing each other more.” He shrugs again, shy smile splayed on his face. Edward thinks it’s a beautiful smile. Likes the softness of it. Loves to press his lips to it. He indulges and leans over to kiss his boyfriend and Étienne sighs into it, forgetting for a moment the conversation they’d been having. When they pull away, Étienne reaches for his pack of smokes as a diversion. He offers him one mostly out of habit, and also because he knows Edward still goes for a smoke every so often despite what he claims to others. Edward’s dropped the pretenses with Étienne, tired of the patronising looks he was getting. He does however decline the cigarette, but steals the second drag from it instead.

“I had remembered,” Edward finally offers softly. Étienne busies himself with the cigarette and hands the rest of it to Edward before he lights another one for himself. They smoke quietly, lost in their own thoughts of what had been forty years ago. A lot had changed – they had, in many ways – hopefully for the better. Some of it has remained the same.

“I mean – we didn’t see each other for nearly half of it – but – yeah, forty years...” Étienne trails off, still trying to find ways to make this seem less important than how he truly feels about it, as if ashamed – or maybe even afraid that he feels more about it than Edward does.

“My feelings for you never changed – I never stopped loving you.” Edward counters and only nearly stumbles the last few words of his sentence. He blames it on the cigarette in his hands and nothing else.

“I – yeah, me neither.” Étienne finally adds. Edward nods and they leave it at that for a moment, quietly smoking and observing the slowly growing plants and the leaves that are starting to come in with their full greens.

“In that case then, it is an – anniversary of sorts.” Edward stubs out his cigarette and plays with what’s left of it, rolling it between his fingers, lost in memories of younger versions of themselves, still both as stupid around the edges and stumbling their way through their relationship. If he knew then what he knows now... He sighs – no sense if crying over spilt milk and such.

“You know, I had a – plan. For this. I – if you came over – I had a plan.”

Edward is surprised and he’s starting to tell himself that he shouldn’t. Étienne, for all that he says he doesn’t do romance, seems to be really good at it, in his own way. In his gestures and attentions – in the quiet spaces that exist between all the things he says and doesn’t. It’s a good thing Edward has been in his orbit for so long, for he’s gotten exceptionally good at deciphering Étienne. (It also helps that they’ve spoken about this to some depths and that other things have been admitted to.) Still, something warm and pleasant makes itself comfortable inside of Edward at the thought of Étienne planning something special.

“Did you now?”

Étienne nods and flicks his lighter, “I was going to take you to some nice terasse and then go down to the Old Port and catch the fireworks. Highlight the occasion and such. Treat you to a nice dinner.” He sighs to himself and scrubs a hand over his face and then through his hair – it’s getting a little long; Edward silently loves the way it looks. Loves the way the curls are a little looser yet still just as pretty.”Guess that’s all shot now.” The sobering comment brings Edward back to the present moment and he reaches out for one of Étienne’s hands. He laces their fingers together and thrills when Étienne sits closer to lean his head on Edward’s shoulder. At least, even with everything – from the heavy misunderstandings and breaks, they get to have this again.

“Y’now, for a guy who claims to be allergic to romance...” Edward teases and nudges at Étienne’s shoulder playfully.

He does it to get a rise out of his boyfriend and it works. Étienne’s cheeks are even redder now and he shoves back at Edward, “Shut up...”

Edward manhandles him and pulls him closer until he can kiss the top of Étienne’s curls and hold him to his chest. Étienne wiggles about in his arms until he can lay proper claim to Edward’s lips and kiss him. Edward goes pliant and soft and cups Étienne’s face with his hands. He’s warm and ever so lovely and Edward knows he can get lost in these moments – could never get enough of them even if they were to make up for all the lost time and missed opportunities.

“Don’t worry; you’re secret is safe with me. No one will ever know you have a heart.” He murmurs against kiss-swollen lips, moments and days and weeks and months later.

He means it as a joke, but of course, Étienne has to go ahead and deliver the killing blow. “S’yours anyways. Always has been.”

This time, Edward’s cheeks turn a lovely shade of red. Luckily, Étienne doesn’t comment and instead settles in his embrace for a moment. It’s nice and quiet and for a while they simply sit together. Edward has always liked this part of their friendship and relationship – the quiet moments when they never needed to do or say anything, content sharing the same space. There’s more of that now and Edward has to admit that he likes it a lot.

“We could still highlight the occasion,” He says after a while. Étienne gives him a curious look and Edward pecks his nose before disentangling himself from him. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

Étienne watches his retreating figure and Edward heads back inside. He returns moments later, as promised, with a small bottle of champagne and two flutes. “It’s not whatever fancy terasse you wanted to take me to, but I think the company is just fine regardless.” He pops the cork and pours out two glasses before handing one to Étienne.

Étienne cant’ really believe this is happening, but he’s endeared and touched by this sudden spontaneous little celebration. It’s not much – not what he wanted to do, but Edward does have a point – at least they get to highlight the occasion together. “To us,” He offers as a toast, bringing his glass to cling with Edward’s.

“Here’s to forty more?”

Étienne chuckles softly, “May they be without interruption this time.” He adds. He can do forty more years – hell, he can do a lifetime more, but forty seems like a good benchmark to aim for. Forty more years of teasing and loving Edward. It sounds like the simplest task he’s ever been handed. He looks at his boyfriend and smiles softly and openly and it only grows bigger when Edward smiles back at him.

“I’ll drink to that.”

FIN

#pc: montre #pc: edmonton #edward murphy #étienne maisonneuve #fic #projocanondoko

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a-really-bi-girl · 5 years

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You make me smile - Keanu Reeves

A lovely anon requested Keanu x number 8 of my promt list.

Enjoy!

Keanu looked out of his window into the garden.

"I just don't know what to do" he tells his best friend on the other side of the phone.

"Just spend some time with her!" Alexandra said to him. " Just go downstairs and ask her how her day is"

"Alex we have been living in the same house for over a month, I know exactly how her day is." Keanu says as he saw you entering the garden, right on time.

You wore a oversized sweater and black yoga pants. Your hair was pulled back into a bun, making it easier for you to read your script. Even though it was autumn you enjoyed working outside.

"Correction I know how everyone's day is" Keanu said while he looked at you. He and all the other Marvel actors had been staying in one big Villa while shooting Avengers 5.

You were cast as Squirrel Girl and Keanu as Ghost Rider. The two of you didn't had a lot of scenes together but you quickly became friends.

You met a month ago while boarding the fight at Schiphol airport to LA.

The two of you spend hours talking about each other's movie's, interest, families and awkward moments.

At some point the flight attendants had to ask the two of you to be quiet, so that the other passengers could sleep.

But you weren't tried, so you decided to watch a movie together before eventually falling asleep against each other.

You grew closer and closer every day and it felt like you have known each other for your entire lives.

Keanu smiled while you bit the end of your pencil. You were reading your script and making notes about how you wanted Doreen to act in certain situations.

"That's creepy Keanu" Alexandra laughed "Just ask her out!"

"What is she says no, I mean I'm way older than her. What if she thinks I'm a freak?" He asked.

Keanu had liked you for a while now and he knew exactly the moment he fell for you.

---

Two weeks ago the group got lost in the middle of a forest, so to survive the night a shelter must be made. Everyone was arguing about the best way to do it or other plans to get put, except you.

You just got to work. With only ropes and a large canvas you made a shelter big enough for everyone.

"I don't know about you guys but I'm going to bed."you said before climbing into the shelter.

Keanu laid next to you that night and because of the cold you quickly laid in each other's arms. He played with your hair as he pulled you closer to him.

Keanu heard the leaves fall onto the ground as you rested your head on his chest. "I always loved this sound" You said to him with your eyes closed and ears focused on the forest.

Keanu looked at the small smile that appeared on your lips as a you heard the sound of a twig snapping.

You were so sweet, so smart, so pretty, so funny and so pure. When he was with you he felt at peace, like the whole world stopped.

He couldn't get enough of you and he felt weird when you weren't around, he wasn't hungry and he couldn't sleep. Keanu just couldn't stop thinking about you.

He placed a small peck on your forehead before placing his head on top of your. 'i think I'm falling for you' he taught to himself as he held you close.

"She won't, if everything you told me about her is at least a little true she would be happy to go on a date with you" Alexandra said.

Keanu looked as how you covered your feet with a pillow as it became a little colder outside.

"Thanks Alex , I will ask her right now" Keanu said while picking his script of his desk.

"Goodluck!"

----

"Rolls eyes at and with Tippie while crossing her arms" You mumble as you write it down on a post it before sticking it next to one of your lines.

You close your eyes while trying to reenact the scene. The wind distracted you when it blew your pillow away.

"Great" you mumbled while wrapping your arms around yourself, trying to warm yourself up.

"Would you like a blanket?" A warm voice asked you. You looked up and stared saw that it was Keanu, he had a warm smile on his face as he held two blankets under his arm and his script in his free hand.

"I would love one" You said smiling while you made place for him on the couch. He gave you a big fluffy blanket before he placed his script on the side table.

He wore dark blue jeans with a long sleeved white shirt. He had a bed head and his beard was trimmed. You heart began to beat faster just by looking at him.

"So did you enjoy last night?" Keanu asked you while he wrapped his blanket around his muscular body.

"I really did, although I sucked at salsa class" you joked while your cheeks turned pink, remembering that you stepped on his toes.

You placed your script next to you before wrapping your body with the blanket. Keanu sat down next to you and you felt your stomach turning upside down.

"I thought you were okay" He joked. Last night the whole crew followed a salsa class, Marvel liked to plan diverse activities so that the crew grows a closer to each other.

"No I wasn't , you on the other hand were amazing" You smiled while turning to the side to face him, you applauded for him and he just smiled at your silly action.

He looked into your eyes and you saw he was a little nervous."Is everything okay?" You asked concerned.

Keanu swallowed and nodded yes" There is something I have to tell you?" He said.

"Okay" you said while hoping everything was and is okay.

"It's more of a question"Keanu said while scooching close to you.

"I really like the moments we spent together and I'm really happy that I got to meet you. You make me smile without even trying. You brighten my day by just being yourself. What I wanted to ask if if you wanted to go on a date, with me?" Keanu tells and asked you softly.

You could see his posture change from insecure to relieved to nervous. Your mind raced as he asked you the question.

You smiled and played with your fingers while nodding yes. " I would love to go on a date with you" You replied as you looked up at Keanu, who had the biggest smile on his face.

He opened his blanket, proposing a cozy cuddle session. You push his hair behind his ear before sliding under his blanket against him, resting your head on his shoulder.

Both staring into the forest that surrounded the Villa.

#keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves fanfic keanu reeves imagine keanu reeves x reader keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves #marvel

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junetuesday · 5 years

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12 Days of Christmas - *11*

Pairing: Tom Holland x Female Reader

Warnings: one mention of sex, like one swear word I think, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 1450

A/N: SURPRISE! listen i know its late and i know its short, i dont know what to tell you. this part was inspired by a request for a kiss blurb so thank you anon!!

December 24th

There were three rules for The Holland’s Annual Christmas Eve Party. One, Christmas jumpers are mandatory (the uglier the better). Two, you must take a Polaroid and pin it on the corkboard in the kitchen. Three, Christmas jumpers are mandatory.

The house was teeming with festive cheer, films playing on a loop in the living room and music blasting from the kitchen. Dogs and children blocked the stairways, family and friends gathered in every room with drinks in hand. You and Tom had managed to secure a single seat in the snug just off the kitchen, you perched on his lap with his arm around your waist.

Despite such confined quarters, you were involved in entirely different conversations. Tom was having a heated discussion with your friend Lucy about whether or not you should have Yorkshire puddings with Christmas dinner, while Tom’s cousin Abby was commenting on the absence of a mutual friend of yours.

“...yeah they stayed home since it’s their first Christmas with the baby,” you explained.

“Oh shit, yeah,” Abby laughed. “That’s mad, can’t believe they’ve got a kid now.”

You nodded, taking a sip of your drink. Your twenties are a weird time - half your friends are engaged and having babies and the other half are just about dragging themselves through the week to get to Gin O’Clock on a Friday.

“What about you guys,” Abby waved her beer bottle in the general direction of you and Tom, not catching your eyes widening and your drink catching in your throat. “Is this your second Christmas in the flat?”

“Jesus,” you swallowed harshly, laughing. “I thought you were asking if I’m pregnant!”

“You’re pregnant?!”

You groaned as both Tom and Lucy’s attention snapped to your conversation, conveniently overhearing just the very end of your statement.

“No no no no no-” Shaking your head vehemently, you scrambled to clarify, looking to Abby for assistance.

“We were talking about Julia’s baby, and then I asked if this was their second Christmas living together,” she explained.

Lucy hummed, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed you suspiciously.

“I swear, Luce,” you chuckled.

“Anyway, no, it’s our first Christmas since this one moved in,” Tom’s arm tightened around your waist, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Came home to Santa’s workshop in the spare room.”

A mock-indignant scowl on your face, you gave Tom’s arm around your waist a quick squeeze back. You’d already dealt with the onslaught of questions from his relatives about when you were getting married and having kids - not if, when - so you were grateful for the diversion.

“Why am I not surprised?” Lucy sighed with a smile - you’d been friends long enough that she knew all about your enthusiasm for all things festive.

“When did you come home? You’ve been back a while, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tom nodded, shifting underneath you to look at his cousin as he answered her. “Been home all of December, pretty much.”

“Oh man,” Lucy grimaced. “Are you not sick of her yet?”

You twisted on Tom’s knee, fixing him with as stern an expression as you could muster after three drinks.

“Be very careful how you answer that.”

Tom’s eyes darted from side to side, his fingers tugging at the neck of his jumper.

“I, er, - is it warm in here - are you warm? I’m warm -”

Abby and Lucy giggled, watching you scowl as Tom feigned panic. You tried your best to keep your brow furrowed and your lip curled, but that became difficult when Tom chuckled, leaning back and to the side so he could see your face properly.

“Nah but it’s been really nice actually, y’know?” Tom smiled as your face softened, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. “Missed her a lot, so yeah, happy to be home.”

Maybe it was the champagne, or the festive atmosphere filling the house - good will to all men and all that, but your heart swelled in your chest at his words. It wasn’t anything new, of course you already knew he missed you and he was glad to be home, but it was different hearing him say it to someone else. You smiled as Tom shrugged, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek. He leaned into your touch, tilting his head up to press his lips to yours. It was only a quick kiss, a peck really, but it made your lips tingle all the same, feeling him smile into the kiss.

You heard Abby and Lucy’s ‘aww’ing beside you, but they were drowned out by Harry’s ‘eurgh’. You pulled apart to scowl at him, sticking your tongue out playfully. He was weaving through people taking photographs on the camera hanging around his neck, a beer in his hand. Kevin McCallister’s face was knitted into the front of his jumper, ‘Merry Christmas Ya Filthy Animal’ embroidered underneath.

“Have you stopped being gross long enough to take your picture yet?”

You shook your head, peering over his shoulder at the cork board hanging on the kitchen wall. Polaroids were pinned on haphazardly, too far away for you to make out any of the faces in them, but you could see the blur of the lights on the Christmas tree in the background of a few of them.

“Where’s Tess?” Tom looked around the room, trying to spot her. “She’s gotta be in it.”

Eventually Tess was discovered in the dining room, apparently trying to pull the nibbles off the table by the sheer force with which she was inhaling, sniffing around the edge of the table when she thought no one was looking. Tom scooped her up into his arms - much to her dismay - and brought her back to the snug. The spot beside you had been vacated now, so he was able to squeeze in next to you with Tess across both your laps. You pointed at Harry in an attempt to get Tess to look at the camera, whispering excitedly at her. It was a futile effort, though - she just stared at your hand, trying to give you her paw in the hopes you might give her a treat in exchange. Harry soon gave up, snapping a photo and handing it to you before darting off in the direction of a tin of mince pies making its way around the kitchen.

White spots clouding your vision from the flash, you blinked hard as you waited for the picture to develop. Soon enough, details started to emerge from the darkness, the image coming into focus. Matching jumpers covered yours and Tessa’s torsos, red and green santa hats printed onto the material in a classic festive pattern. You’d begged and pleaded with Tom to get him to wear one too, but he wasn’t having it - no matter how many blowjobs you offered him. He’d had the same Christmas jumper for years, and he wasn’t about to change that. So there he sat, his orange and burgundy fairisle jumper ruining the family photo. You took a picture of it on your phone before pinning it up, though, despite your uncoordinated outfits. Your head was thrown back as you laughed, Tessa balanced precariously on Tom’s lap as she tried to lick your hand and give you her paw at once, her tongue a pink blur. Her tail was a blur, too, mid-wag and thumping against Tom’s chest. He didn’t seem to notice, though - his eyes were fixed on you, a wide smile across his face.

The rest of the evening passed in a pleasant blur of food, drinks, and Wham! singalongs, and it wasn’t long before everyone was saying their goodbyes and Merry Christmas’s as people made their way home. You stayed long enough to help tidy up, but once the last glass was out of the dishwasher you were on your way. Tom’s parents asked at least three more times if you didn’t want to just stay - and you were tempted, especially when you opened the front door and felt the cold midnight air - but you declined. After much deliberation, you and Tom had decided to spend Christmas Eve Night alone. You’d be coming over to spend the day anyway, but seeing as it was your first Christmas living together you both really wanted to spend Christmas morning at home.

So, with tummies full of mince pies and hearts full of festive cheer, you sighed a contented sigh as you settled into bed. Tom slotted in behind you, his arms snaking around your waist as he pressed kisses to your neck and shoulder. You shuffled back further into his embrace, twisting your neck to kiss him softly, feeling him murmur against your lips as much as you heard him.

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

tags: @starksparker , @bi-writes , @snowflakespideys , @buckyparkerish , @thwippeter , @cutiehollands , @loserparker , @madmadmilk , @hollandlovely @spiderboytotherescue , @santahollands @dtftomholland @moonkissedtom @cabbagebag @iknowisoundcrazy , @spiderman-n , @luvnyuh , @parkerpuff @thwip-it-real-good @positiveparker @ap93mcu @popculture-parker @rainbow-marvel @younglove16 @girlreaderr @pineapplwz @thequeensardine @idk-who-cares @hollandroos @mikalaka @thot–holland @awkwardfangirl2014 @booksaremylife602 @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @dacrekaydaddict @lovelyspidey @summernykole @smashley816 @unicorn-princess-1999 @uwu-peter-parker-uwu @sleepwalkingdragon @adisneygeek01 @hs-medicine @thelazypangolin @curlyhairedparker @curlytoms @darlingxholland @smexylemony

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland christmas fic #12 days of christmas fic

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nyxravessnow · 5 years

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2.5D Stage Ranking (Personal Opinion) pt.2

This is the part two, the ranking of enjoyment

Top 10 in Enjoyment

This will simply be how much I enjoyed the stage. Mostly I prefer comedy so for me quite a lot of these will have a lot of funny moments but not all of them do.

This will be extremely opinionated but I will try to be positive. Weirdly even though these are the ten shows I most enjoyed, I don’t think three of them would be in my top ten favourite. Some explanations will be more emotional than others.

I will also not explain about the plot to the shows and will try to spoil as little as possible.

1. Prince of Tennis

This should come as no surprise and I won’t go into this two much but Prince of Tennis is the show that really kickstarted 2.5D in my opinion and is the show that made me absolutely fall in love with the industry. I can sing over 100 of the songs and know most of the actors names and is my absolute addiction. I just think Prince of Tennis is so fun, diverse and it’s so exciting to see all these actors who start in Prince of Tennis grow so much and appear in so many other things

2. Mankai A3

I was so surprised by A3. I didn’t really enjoy the game at first and was so confused as to why it suddenly became so popular. I must admit its popularity was one of the things that held me up watching it until I found I cheap version of Spring and Summer then gave in. I thing watched it every day for a week.This show completely pulled me in with fun songs, a compelling cast of characters and a surprising amount of emotion. (For me who did not play the game, if you did play the game, this would not have been surprising)

The company of actors is split into four groups and I was surprised how individual each group was. My favourite, summer, are the youngest of the company and I absolutely loved their play.

For anyone trying to get into 2.5d plays, this is probably where I would point them first. It is such a fun play with a perfect blend of comedy, emotion, drama and action

3. Yowamushi pedal

Disclaimer: I have only seen up until the end of Ogoe Yuuki’s run as Onoda.

While I didn’t put Yowamushi Pedal on my top 10 for quality, I don’t think it was ever trying to be a high quality show. The showrunners knew there was no way they could show people cycling on stage in a wholly serious manor if they couldn’t use actual bikes. So, they decided to change the tone of the show, which I think wouldn’t have worked in the anime but works perfectly on stage.

If I ever need cheering up Yowamushi Pedal stage is definitely something I would turn to. Every single show has me crying with laughter and it is amazing to see actors having so much fun on stage.

There are so many hilarious moments but the top two for me is when Izumida’s peck Frank, yes his pecks are anthropomorphised on stage, starts touching the other members of Hakogaku and when they are at Toudou’s inn and their cleaner is Harry Potter and he cocks his broom as fires it like a gun at two actors who are pretending to be ducks. Both make absolutely no sense but are amazing to watch and I don’t think I will ever not laugh while even thinking of them.

4. Touken Ranbu Musical

It is strange that I cry in every single musical and yet I still have an image of the musicals not being sad. I think they get the perfect blend of emotion and comedy for what they are trying to achieve. The actors, on the whole, portray their characters so well and the live segments may just be pandering to the fangirls, but I am a fangirl/fanboy and I love it. The songs fit so perfectly and I don’t think I’ve ever loved reasonably minor characters as much as I do the humans in Touken Ranbu. I think all their actors are excellent and I am slightly in love with Minamoto no Yoshitsune’s eye makeup.

The thing that sold me the most on this musical however, was none of that. I am studying Japanese and it amazes me how much actual history and Japanese culture I have learnt from these musicals. To the extent of me being able to have a conversation in Japanese about the Minamoto clan with an actual Japanese History Teacher whose favourite period of Japanese history is that period and him complimenting me on my knowledge.

Touken Ranbu also celebrates Japanese culture so much. The taiko drumming in the live, the actual drinking song included in the show and the time where they put on a festival during a live. I feel like this show is a must see for anyone who likes Japanese culture and Japan would seem to agree with me as it far outranks any other show in the industry for popularity.

While it doesn’t appeal to me in ways that the three above do I love this musical so much I can’t wait until I can see the next one.

5. Bakumatsu Rock

I keep on forgetting I’ve seen this show live as I saw it in 2015 which was a while ago and was only the third show I ever saw and I was also sick before it so I was a little delirious. But I still remember the feeling of utter joy I had leaving the theatre with Crash My Head stuck in my...head. The acting is so good, the songs are amazing and the actors look like they’re having such a good time.

I won’t go into the recast as I already mentioned that in the previous ranking but they didn’t stop me from still enjoying the final two stages. I think it was very sad that the show was so short but I don’t really want to see them bring it back.

I think what we have of the show is perfect and I love it with all m heart.

6. Aoharu Tetsudou

This is a musical I think very few people will have watched. A lot of people like it for the fact it combines a lot of Prince of Tennis actors who haven’t acted with each other in a while but while that is what originally got me into the show it is not at all why I stayed.

This somewhat factual history of different Japanese train lines is utterly insane with the strangest characters, songs and moments. And has led to some of the strangest conversations with Japanese people who know the train lines well

‘So the Rinkai line is a bit ecchi and stalks the Saikyo line’

‘Oh yeah, that makes perfect sense’

‘??? How can a train line be ecchi?’

Also, this show is unabashedly gay. There is a character who continually asks another character to marry him, three different love songs between three different couples and actual other characters saying that they are gay. While it works in a similar way to Hetalia, if countries get married they are uniting, if trains get married they become one train it is still very gay. There are also multiple instances of characters stripping and cosplaying as women.

I love this show to bits but if you are not used to Japanese acting or you want to show a musical to someone who is not used to Japanese acting, absolutely do not watch/show this musical. I love the overacting and find it hilarious but this is the most overacting I think I have ever seen in a show ever and while I think it really works for this show it will be pretty jarring if you are not used to it.

7. Hiragana Danshi

This show in my opinion is the most underrated musical in the 2.5d industry, along with Aoharu Tetsudou but even more so. The show is about letters of the Hiragana alphabet but they are more the sounds than the actual hiragana so they represent the katakana and kanji as well. Everything they like has to start with their hiragana and there are so many puns. The cast is hugely popular and talented and each one portrays their character so well. The show is so funny and you absolutely will leave with a favourite character.

The songs are very clever and, almost, all the actors have very good voices and the songs compliment them well. It’s sad that the show seemed to be such a passion project and was truly beloved by the staff and actors but there were not enough fans to ensure that there could be a second stage.

8. Bungou Stray Dogs

I don’t have very much to add from my previous comments on this show. It is exceptional as I loved the original anime I was so happy to see such a well done adaptation, that slightly made me realise that I am very attracted to Chuuya. I think this show would also be a very good introduction to 2.5d as it shows off the best aspects of the industry.

9. Mob Psycho 100

I didn’t originally enjoy the Mob Psycho anime but after I loved the stage I went back and watched the anime again and I loved it. I thought the stage was so funny and I could not think of someone more perfect than Baba Ryoma to play Reigen and I’m so happy that recently Baba Ryoma has been given more chances to play comedic characters which I really think suits him.

I don’t have very much to say about this play except I loved it and fully recommend it

10. Cells at Work

I have seen both stages as I actually managed to go see the second live last week.

While I do think I preferred the first one overall I did love the second one and I personally think that Kitamura Ryo fits with the image of White blood cell from the anime better.

The shows manage to be so funny but evoke so much emotion with Yamada James Takeshi’s performance of the cancer cell. I think it is the best acting he has ever done and really wish they had a 2.5d version of the tony’s so he could get an award for his role.

There is something about them that feels distinctly different from most other 2.5d productions in my opinion and I love it.

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sympathyfortheblinderdevil · 5 years

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Diversion: Chapter 2

Diversion: Chapter 1 can be found on my masterlist because Tumblr hates links.

...and I ran, I ran so far away

Esme left the stable in a blur. Her heart throbbed in her ears and her limbs felt numb. The haze that enveloped her was interrupted by occasional flashes of panic which overcame her in realization of what she had done.

But, what had she done? Her consciousness lurched between savoring the memory of the moment when she wrapped her arms around Tommy and justifying the action as spontaneous and innocent. Like Tommy had said, it was just a sisterly show of affection. It was really only a hug. There was the matter of the kiss... She tried to convince herself that it meant nothing, but then she felt Tommy’s soft lips lingering on hers and saw the look in his eyes when she pulled away from him. She was in an awful kind of limbo, suffering for sins that she hadn’t even enjoyed.

She wondered why the fuck Tommy was always around her lately. For the last year he had made a point of avoiding her, but last week he insinuated himself into her life—into her personal business with John. At first, she wrote it off as Tommy keeping an eye on his brother’s home life for the sake of the Blinders. After all, John was no good to him if he was distracted. After tonight, though, she wondered if Tommy had other motives. If anything, Tommy was methodical; maybe he had been patiently waiting for an opening.

She walked up the lane at a quick pace, every step drawing her closer to her destination. She needed to see John. Her conscience craved absolution that only he could give. If she could confess to her husband what she’d done, maybe the shame that she felt would be erased. Her cheeks were flushed and her breath made soft white clouds in the dingy air. The ash from the forges of Small Heath swirled and parted in her path as she swept around the corner into the warm lights of the pub.

She reached the threshold to the Garrison and drew a shaky breath. She had to get this right. She would have one chance to present her side of what happened and make it seem beyond reproach. She paused for a moment while she thought about how she could tell John that she’d thrown herself at Tommy’s head. John may be easy to sway, but Arthur had no emotional attachment to her. Arthur would be able to smell bullshit from a mile away. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.

If she stayed quiet, John would never know. Tommy sure as hell wouldn’t say anything, but keeping this secret to herself would do her no favors. If she kept it to herself, it was as good as admitting that she felt something for Tommy. She couldn’t bear to face his cold blue eyes filled with the smug assumption that she ached for his touch. She stood up straight and set her mind on what she needed to accomplish. She was an honorable woman. She had kept to herself while John had his fill of philandering. She had nothing to hide.

After a moment’s hesitation, she had worked up the nerve to go inside.

John was not expecting to see Esme at The Garrison. He and Arthur had drained a bottle between them and called out for another. The willowy blond barmaid who had delivered the bottle was sitting in the booth next to John and sprang to her feet when Esme came into the snug. As she skittered away, John visibly squirmed in his seat, readjusting himself. Esme bit the inside of her cheek and ignored the retreating girl who was practically in her husband’s lap and reminded herself why she was there.

“John!” she beamed, “com’ere you!” She slid into the booth and took his bewildered face into her hands. In an uncharacteristic display of public affection, she kissed him deeply. When she pulled away from him, she gazed adoringly into his eyes. “I’ve seen the ‘orse. He’s beautiful.” Esme ignored the fact that the seat was still warm from the barmaid’s ass and tried to look hopelessly smitten by her husband.

John was gobsmacked. He’d agreed to let Tommy pick a horse for Esme to ride, but hadn’t given it much thought since then. She was convincingly over the moon about the horse, and he decided that it wouldn’t hurt to take the credit. He straightened up and slid his arm around Esme’s waist, “I’m glad you found him to your liking, love. Arthur and I were just discussing how I bought him.” He winked at Arthur who willingly played along.

You were just buttering up that barmaid, Esme thought, but outwardly she giggled and pressed herself into John’s side. “I was so excited that I nearly knocked Thomas down. I hugged him and gave him a peck before I thought what I was doing,” she giggled. “His face was a right picture!”

There it was, what should have been an insurance policy against any guilty feelings or repercussions. John and Arthur laughed along with her. Esme breathed a sigh of relief, but deep in her heart, a seed had been planted. She nearly shuddered at the thought of what could grow there in time.

She felt an overwhelming urge to be close to John. She snaked an arm into his jacket and around his waist. He shifted the toothpick in his mouth and looked sideways at her. “Ay girl, what are you up to?” he teased.

“Come home with me and find out,” she purred, playing along.

“Me and Arthur still have some business to go over. Run along home and I’ll...”

Esme couldn’t stand his rejection. Not tonight. She pushed away from him and broke in, “You’ll what, John? Get that blonde slut back in here the second I’ve walked out?”

Her temper flared and she faced him with her eyes flashing a warning. The shit between her and Tommy was all John’s bloody fault. How was she supposed to feel when he so obviously thought that she was an idiot? When he blatantly flaunted his infidelities in front of her face?

“You’re out of order, Esme,” John quietly insisted. “Go home and I’ll be there soon.”

“I swear to God, if you come home smelling like that tart’s cheap perfume…”

“Go on,” Arthur cajoled, “I’ll make sure that he trots home within the hour.”

Esme shifted her eyes between the both of them and decided to cut her losses. She would go home, even though her insides were still shaking and her heart ached with uncertainty. “See that you do.”

***

The children would be sleeping by the time she got home. She thought about having a bath and a few glasses of brandy while she waited. One part of her needed to hold John in the same way that a child craves the reassurance of a parent when it’s done something naughty. The other part resented John for pushing Tommy to take an interest in her, and she in him. After all, if her husband wasn’t fucking around Tommy would have no reason to be involved.

The house was dark except for a lamp that burned low in the parlor. Esme thanked her lucky stars for the dimly lit room and skirted the light, rushing through the shadows and hiding her face from Polly.

“Thanks for putting the kids to bed, Pol. I’m going up to have a bath.”

“Where’s John?” Polly called to Esme’s back.

She seemed not much more than a blur of tangled curls as she brushed past Pol on her way through the house.

“Esme!”

She stopped and braced herself for Polly’s questions. Esme had hoped that she could get up the stairs without Polly looking her in the face.

“Did John not come home with you?”

Esme dreaded having to answer. Pol could read anyone, and her delinquency would surely be apparent when she spoke. “He’s at the Garrison drinking. Where else?”

Polly rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Was Tommy at the stables?”

The sound of his name sent a cold shock through her body. She tried to separate herself from the person who embraced Tommy just hours ago. She nodded her head. “He was unloading the horses.” She tried to act naturally and coached her face into a smile. “He gave one to me.”

“John bought the horse for you.” Polly no more believed her words than Esme did. They both knew that Tommy had bought the horse for her, but Pol tried to help her errant nephew’s cause.

Esme took the hint and changed tack, “Right, well, if I want to go for a ride tomorrow I’ll need to be up early.” She turned toward the stairs, but before she could make her way toward the silence she so desperately needed, Polly stopped her again.

Polly had noticed something odd in Esme’s demeanor, but she couldn’t put her finger on what was wrong. “Have you and John been fighting tonight?”

Esme looked Polly in the eye and gave her an honest account. “I asked him to come home, and he made an excuse to stay at the Garrison.”

She didn’t have the heart to mention the barmaid who she suspected was sitting on her husband’s lap as they spoke. Polly understood her silence and didn’t push Esme any farther.

The steaming hot water soothed her sore muscles but did little to settle her mind. As she soaked she watched the clock. Over an hour had passed and John had yet to come home. Worse than that, whenever she closed her eyes she replayed the moment that she pulled away from Tommy and saw his gaze lazily drifting over her. She could still feel his fingers pressing into her shoulders and smell the smoke and whisky on his skin. Whatever happened between her and John tonight, she had to steer clear of Tommy tomorrow.

JFC, I don’t know where I am going with this. It’s really my personal catharsis. Tell me what you think.

Chapter 3 can be found on my masterlist because Tumblr hates links.

#Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders fic #tommy shelby x esme shelby #angst #family drama #you down with opp? hey you know me!#don't hate me #john needs to keep it in his pants

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douxreviews · 5 years

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Star Trek: Discovery - ‘Such Sweet Sorrow, Part 2′ Review

"Let's see what the future holds."

By nature I love brevity: Star Trek: Discovery delivers on the promises of the season in its dramatic finale that warps off into Season Three ready to try something new. My predictions were mostly correct, with a few surprises. Some of those surprises were substantially more welcome than others.

Last week's episode made us a whole lot of promises and set up a lot of things to happen here. All the emotional stakes of that episode hinged on the fulfillment of those promises and set-ups, though, so no matter what, if they didn't follow through we were going to feel cheated. I went into this finale with a small bit of trepidation that they might fake us out and not deliver, but those fears were happily quashed. If nothing else, I want to applaud the show for delivering on its promises, and for doing so in a way that provided entertainment and diversion for an hour and left me feeling mostly satisfied.

But, of course, I do have to talk about what went wrong. Most of this episode's problems, and indeed the whole season's problems, are the result of logical inconsistencies. For example, if they had a map of the red bursts the whole time, why couldn't they figure out where each burst was going to appear? Even if they didn't know which burst corresponded to which one on the map, after the first three they should have known the location of all seven. That was the main thing about the season as a whole that bothered me.

The biggest and most egregious problem in 'Such Sweet Sorrow, Part 2' is the entire situation involving Cornwell and the torpedo. How contrived can you get, really? This seems to me to be the most stupid and pointless sacrifice since Captain America: The First Avenger, and it's certainly the dumbest thing this show has ever done. I can't even begin to fathom why anyone would think that little tiny door could do anything at all when we were told it would take out four decks/half the ship. If the door is so powerful, why isn't the whole ship made out of the same material? How is the window still intact after the blast? For that matter, why the actual heck did they put a window in a blast door? Even the reason Cornwell decided to stick around in that room with the torpedo was hopelessly contrived. Pike made some very good points about time travel and his future, and she dismissed them for no reason at all. Very disappointing and completely unnecessary. Jayne Brook and Admiral Cornwell deserve way better.

The second major issue involves Controlland and his death. First and foremost, if the Control AI was destroyed when Georgiou killed it, why do they even still need to go to the future? If destroying Control was as easy as magnetizing a whatever for a few minutes, why not focus your efforts on that rather than the time travel stuff? They even had a golden opportunity to solve all these problems and bring back some nice continuity at the same time. Why not just have Georgiou use the spores to send Controlland somewhere else, like Lorca did with Burnham way back in 'Context is for Kings'? Plus, the magnetizing the whatever solution is really dumb and sounds contrived.

All this makes it sound like I hated 'Sorrow II.' I didn't. It was largely entertaining, and despite those two major things that grated on me and a few other minor gripes, the finale did its job well. It managed partly to earn the melodrama of 'Sorrow I' and to wrap up the season's arcs in a neat and tidy manner. Let me dive further into the things I liked.

Firstly, Olatunde Osunsamni's direction was on point this week. His stylistic, swooping camera and weird, dynamic directorial choices are actually really well-suited to big action setpieces like this one. While I may not like his apparent vow to never allow the camera to be still at any moment, even in dialogue or other low-energy sequences, Osunsamni gets to infuse his energy here into a show that warrants it. On that same note, all the action was quite good and interesting to watch. The production values on this show continue to be absolutely through the roof, and it works really, really well.

I also loved, though it can very easily be dismissed as fan service, the ending with Pike, Spock, and the Enterprise. The show is certainly leaning into fan hopes for a show centered around them, for no clear reason. Clearly, they could very well do something like that, and it would be highly anticipated and probably very well received. It's ultimately up to the producers, but I really think that if they do intend to do it, it will have to be really far down the pipeline. If it were coming in the near future, we'd have heard something of it by now.

The portion of the end that deals with Discovery's supposed breaches of canon was a long time in coming. I think I'd made my peace that time travel would fix it all about a month ago, so bringing my feelings about it back is a bit difficult. If the writers had all this planned from the beginning, then kudos to them. If not, then at least they found a decent way to fix everything they'd broken. One of the things that's in the grand tradition of Star Trek is taking mistakes and discrepancies and using them for the benefit of later stories, so I'm quite pleased that this occurred here. Did they have to force it because it was necessary for the show? Yes. But let's not lose sight of the fact that it was necessary for the show.

A few surprises lurked in this episode, even though the resolution went more or less as anticipated. The first of these was that Georgiou was on the Disco as it went off into the wild blue yonder. I had expected, since Michelle Yeoh's Section 31 series is coming, that Georgiou would be left behind in the past in light of that. Not so here. This raises many questions about that Section 31 show, what Yeoh's role in it will be, and how she will play into DIS Season 3, so many that I won't go into them all here. Suffice it to say, I was surprised, and I will be interested to see where it goes from here.

Secondly, I was surprised at the arrival of everything the rest of the season had done, now coming back to help the Disco accomplish its mission. Although I suppose everything did have to be a part of a grand design like Pike and Spock have been saying all along, I was not expecting Siranna and the Kelpiens in particular. A nice touch, certainly, as was the timely arrival of L'Rell and her Klingon armada. Speaking Klingon under heavy makeup does tend to work much better when it's being yelled angrily at one's enemies in the heat of battle than it does when discussing Imperial politics while sitting at home. Plus, Mary Chieffo got to say 'Today is a good day to die' before the show left her behind.

So overall, I think I liked it. It did what it needed to do, and not a whole ton more. What more it did was mixed material, but so is this show in general. I left it feeling satisfied, and even excited for the road ahead. Take her out, folks. Let's see what she can do.

Pensees:

-Holy crap, that's a lot of shuttles. Voyager's jealous.

-I half expected Reno to die, and Po to go to the future. I'm not sad that those things didn't happen, though.

-Keep on being sassy as heck, Dr. Pollard.

-I thought Burnham and Spock's goodbye was just fine the first time, in the shuttlebay. At the end of the episode it was terribly overdone, although Ethan Peck did his darnedest to help it along.

-Is Anthony Rapp's return to the show for Season Three in doubt? They left his life still in danger at the end of the episode. I hope not; I like Stamets. His resolution with Culber felt a little out of place amid the chaos of the episode, though.

-Lots of visual cues to Star Trek: The Motion Picture in this episode, from Burnham's travel through time to the same streaky-light wormhole effect when the ship does the same.

-That really is a dang useful blast door. Voyager's jealous.

-Number One STILL doesn't have a canonical name. Why couldn't she just have given it in the debriefing scene. It's not hard!

-So Tyler has been made the head of Section 31 for now. I guess that means he'll definitely be in Yeoh's series, right?

-Clean-shaven Spock in uniform was great to see, and the shot that panned out from the bridge to the ship in space was a definite nod to 'The Cage.'

-Props to Jeff Russo for his awesome mix of the classic TOS theme and the DIS theme. I really like the music of this show in general.

Quotes:

Po: "First, I invoke diplomatic immunity for stealing this shuttle."

Reno: "I'm going, I'm going! Get off my ass! Sir! Get off my ass, sir!"

Saru: "Promise me you'll be safe." Everything: *continues exploding*

Burnham: "So you're asking me to take a leap of faith." Spock: "One that is only logical."

Controlland: "Where's my data?" Nhan, searching for the most useless response possible: "Hell!"

Controlland: "This doesn't have to be this hard!" Georgiou: "Not hard is boring, and I hate boring."

Number One: "Plans A and B didn't work. This is the Hail Mary part of the operation."

Burnham: "Find that person who seems farthest from you, and reach for them. Reach for them."

4.5 out of 6 really useful blast doors.

CoramDeo is a reviewer, not a bricklayer.

#Star Trek #Star Trek Discovery #Michael Burnham #Spock #Christopher Pike #Saru #Ash Tyler #Disco #Star Trek Reviews #Doux Reviews #TV Reviews

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prissyhalliwell · 6 years

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The Fairy Gardener

Chapter Summary: A proper fairy would never use the Dark One’s silk shirt for a blanket. Then again, Belle has never been a typical fairy.

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CHAPTER TEN

Belle flew up to her little nest on top of the corner bookshelf in the library and threw herself onto the silken sheets. She was exhausted, despite it still being early in the day.

Her bed was the most comfortable thing she’d ever slept in, made up of an old silk shirt of Rumple’s that she’d snuck out of his wardrobe in the West Wing a few days ago, hoping the soft material would help her sleep better. She hadn’t slept well for over two weeks now, ever since Rumple had saved her from Blue and she had kissed him.

It had only been a little peck on the cheek, a sign of gratitude for what he had done. At least, that’s what she had thought when she’d done it. But as she’d quietly rejoiced over her escape from Blue, her own cheeks still warm from the daring kiss she’d given him, her thoughts had turned to the future and what it may have in store for her.

Certain fantasies, like achieving her mission of finally defeating Blue, remained unchanged. But somehow, her daydreams had shifted that day, adding a new element that hadn’t ever been there before: Rumple.

That was the day he had ceased to be Rumplestiltskin and had become Rumple. Her Rumple.

But the sad fact was he wasn’t hers. The way he had run away from her, not to be seen again until almost a full day later, had made that clear.

She hadn’t thought much of his missing lunch and afternoon tea - he often got distracted by projects - and even though she’d been a little lonely at dinner, she’d still told herself it had nothing to do with the kiss or the fact that he’d disappeared from the room immediately after.

It was only when he’d missed their nightly ritual of reading together - a time she knew they both valued highly - that she’d realized her impulsive display of affection might have cost her dearly.

Suddenly, the idea of spending forever with a man who could never return her feelings was too bleak to contemplate. So of course, she’d lain the whole night awake, thinking of that very thing.

The next morning, he’d shown up as if nothing had changed. As if Belle’s entire worldview hadn’t shifted on its axis. He’d been awkward, fumbling for conversation when it usually came natural to them.

It hadn’t been until the next morning that he’d finally gotten up the courage to ask her what was wrong. She’d told him, in a fashion. She hadn’t corrected him when he jumped to conclusions, not really wanting to be any more vulnerable with him than she already was. Letting him know how she truly felt was unimaginable at this point, even if she suspected he already had an inkling of what was going on. One didn’t live through three centuries without picking up some wisdom about women, after all.

The only good thing to come from all of this had been Jefferson’s visits. Belle wasn’t naive; she knew Rumple had invited the Hatter to tea - at least the first time - in order to cheer her up. She now supposed that he regretted that decision, but it just made her care even more for him that he put up with Jefferson’s presence for her sake.

Even if he didn’t feel the same way, it was obvious he did hold some sort of affection for her. She couldn’t decide if that made her feel better or worse. Better in that he did regard her as special, but worse if it meant he saw her as some kind of little sister.

Without Jefferson’s occasional visits, her thoughts might have driven her mad. But Jefferson was always a fun diversion, made even more so by his strange effect on Rumple. She knew not to read too much into it, but it had certainly seemed as if Rumple was jealous of all the attention she was giving her new friend. It was understandable, of course, since he didn’t have many friends. Apart from herself and Jefferson - and perhaps on a good day, Regina - she didn’t think he had any. He’d been used to having her attention all to himself and it was only natural that he should be jealous, in a strictly platonic way. She knew better than to get her hopes up.

Pulling the silk shirt around her as she sat, she rubbed her face against it, breathing in the familiar scent. It was irrational and if he ever caught her with it, she’d never be able to look him in the face again, let alone explain why. She didn’t even know completely why herself, but the feel of the fabric against her skin and the familiar smell of him comforted her in a way that made her feel safe.

How in the world had she gotten herself into this mess? A normal fairy wouldn’t have been caught dead talking to the Dark One, while Belle worked for, lived with, and had now developed feelings for him.

She flopped down on the silk, bursting into tears. She was a terrible, terrible fairy.

The entire matter was ridiculous. Rumple was the the Dark One. He was temperamental, moody, and sly. He was also funny, intelligent, and occasionally even sweet, but only as long as he didn’t think she noticed. Simple things, like leaving one of the windows open in the Great Hall so that she could easily travel from the garden into the castle. She’d tried to thank him once, but he’d merely batted away her words, saying he was tired of the poor air circulation in the castle.

He’d saved her from Blue, too.

Blue had offered to make a deal with him, an unprecedented event in the history of the Enchanted Forest. Their leader had certainly drilled that rule into all young fairies’ heads - a deal with the Dark One was never, ever an option. Yet, here was Blue, willing to make one.

The memory caused Belle to shiver. For not the first time, she wondered if Blue suspected what she was up to. The odds were certainly slim, despite the evidence hidden in her pocket. No one had been around the night she had snuck into Blue’s private archives back home in the Golden Glen. No one had been around when her whole world had turned upside down and she’d realized everything she had been taught was a lie.

Blue had only come to find her after she had been recognized by two of her fellow trainees, Tinker Bell and Nova, at the fountain. While they’d obviously ratted her out, she’d realized she couldn’t be too angry at them for it. If she were in their place, wouldn’t she have been alarmed to see a friend of hers with the Dark One? And not only with him, but traveling around in his shirt pocket?

No, she couldn’t blame them. They had been lied to the same as she had. But one day, they would know the truth. She’d made a promise the night she’d left and she intended to keep it, despite feeling no closer to an answer now than she had been then.

The idea to break into the Dark Castle had been a silly one, though at the time she supposed she hadn’t been thinking very clearly, still fresh off of learning of Blue’s betrayal. As she should have suspected, breaking into the Dark One’s home was no easy feat, and she’d spent several nights wandering around the grounds, trying to find a weakness in the castle’s defense that would let her in. She’d been convinced that the answers she sought would be found in Rumplestiltskin’s legendary library, rumored to contain even more knowledge than the library back at headquarters.

Between her time prowling the grounds, she’d taken time to spruce up the garden, disgusted by its lack of care. Each evening when she’d wake up, she’d find her work violently undone, her rose bushes burned to a crisp during the daylight.

As horribly as her other quest was going, it had become a point of pride to ensure the garden’s survival. When Rumplestiltskin had discovered her that final night, she had been near to exploding with frustration, her anger allowing her to talk back to the monster all fairies had been trained to fear since they were babes.

Strangely, he had seemed to respect her defiance and she’d wound up with a job and a place to stay. She hadn’t felt bad about promising to give him information about Blue, because hadn’t Blue broken that trust first?

Belle let out a deep sigh. All of that seemed so long ago now. So much had happened since and she was torn about what her next steps should be. She’d spent hours upon hours going through the Dark Castle’s library, hoping to find the information she sought. But Rumple’s library was legendary in part because of its overwhelming size. Despite her careful searching, she had yet to find any information that could help her bring down Blue.

And then of course, there was her secret weapon. It was hidden in her pocket as always, her own magic cloaking it from Rumple’s detection. Despite the fact that it was only half of a whole, Belle had learned that it still contained enough magic to knock her on her ass should she attempt to use it. She knew this because it had, in fact, sent her flying twelve feet through the forest brush when she had attempted a spell. She wasn’t in a rush to try again.

Though she longed to ask Rumple about it, she knew she couldn’t take the chance. As much as she cared for him, she still didn’t know if she could trust him with her secrets. The stakes were just too high.

Things had improved somewhat between them the last couple days. They’d resumed their nightly reading sessions to Belle’s equal delight and despair. She was glad to have their special time together back, but it also reminded her that this was all they would ever have.

There would be no reading tonight, however, as Rumple had gone to check on the Jekylls again and wouldn’t be back until late. He’d offered to bring Belle along with him, but she’d declined. As much as she ached to go along on another adventure, the events surrounding the strange man who had split himself in half gave her the eeriest of feelings. She’d rather stay in and do some more research than be around something so unsettling.

The sound of loud cawing broke through Belle’s thoughts. She sat up, glancing down to the window, which overlooked part of the garden, to see what was creating so much noise.

The sight made her cry out with alarm.

A large crow, at least one and half times the size of normal, was tearing up one of her flower beds with its beak.

She jumped up from her bed, nearly tripping on the silk that had wrapped itself around her foot, and flew off to the Great Hall and its open window.

Without fairy dust, Belle didn’t have a ton of magic, but she had a couple tricks up her sleeve. If she needed to, she could even grow full-size. She’d wait to do that though. One never knew when Rumple would pop up, and it would be just her luck that he’d show up then.

While Belle had never technically lied to him about her rank in fairy society, neither had she corrected him when he’d assumed she was a run-of-the-mill garden fairy. He’d seemed much more comfortable with that idea, and so she’d never told him what close company she’d actually kept with Blue, as she’d been training to be a fairy godmother.

Belle flew straight into the garden, her anger making her brave. The crow was clawing at her beloved roses now. She concentrated, sending magic hurtling towards the rose bush. Its thorns grew in size and sharpness, and the crow let out a squawk of pain as the thorns pierced its body. The bird leapt away from the bush and stared at it before raising its head and looking around the garden, its gaze landing on Belle.

She’d expected the crow to ignore her. Being much smaller than it was, she knew she hardly looked threatening. However, the bird seemed to be studying her closely, cocking its head as it looked her over. She was unsure what was happening until the crow let out a triumph “caw” and started flying towards her at breakneck speed.

Belle dove, but by then, it was too late to outrun the beast. The bird caught her in its claws, holding her tight. She squirmed, trying to break free, but the crow’s surprisingly powerful grip held her fast.

Her heart pounding, she squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to grow big. Nothing happened. As the seconds ticked by, she grew even more frightened. Her terror was so intense that it became impossible to concentrate on her magic over the panic that was quickly taking over.

Its prey secure, the crow began to fly towards the garden wall with Belle in tow. Realizing there was only one option left to her, she cried out, “Rumplestiltskin, Rumplestiltskin, Rum- “

He appeared before she finished the summons, his face quickly turning into a thundercloud as he took in the situation.

“Oh no, dearie,” he spat, sending a blast of purple magic through the air towards the crow. The bird lost its grip on Belle and they both went tumbling to the ground, falling short of the wall by only a few feet.

Rumple walked forward, scooping Belle up with one hand, and leveling the other at the crow.

“You go home and tell your mistress that Belle is mine,” he hissed. “If you come after her again, I will personally stuff you and mount you on my wall.”

Belle didn’t miss the look of comprehension in the bird’s eye. It cawed once and flew off as fast as its wings could take it.

Rumple brought her close, his anger abruptly vanishing as his eyes roamed over her to check for injuries. “Are you alright? I won’t let her harm you.”

“I’m fine, really.” Belle gave him a tremulous smile. “We seem to be making a habit of this. You saving my life, I mean.”

Rumple shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s easier than getting a new gardener. Good help is so hard to find these days.”

Belle nodded, not trusting herself to speak or to call him out on such an obvious lie.

She held close to Rumple as he teleported them into the Great Hall. When he summoned her bed from the library onto the table, Belle’s heart stopped cold.

“I was wondering where that shirt went...nevermind, I have several others. I’ll make you some proper sheets one of these days.” He set her down next to the bed, his brows furrowed in concern. “You sure you’re alright?”

Belle could only nod in response. The near miss with the crow, followed by Rumple’s complete obliviousness to why she slept with his shirt had left her head spinning.

“I think I just need to sit down,” she replied faintly.

“Yes, good idea.” He scooped her up carefully and placed her in the bed, tucking her into his own shirt. “Just lie here and rest. Call upon me if you need anything.”

“Rumple, I’m fine,” she said, trying to sit up. He immediately held out a finger to gently, but firmly, push her back down on the bed.

“Rest.”

“I don’t have the flu!” she said, rolling her eyes at him. He was being ridiculous. She didn’t want to rest. The moment Rumple left her alone, she was going to find a private space to practice growing human-sized again. The fact that she hadn’t been able to do so in such a life-threatening moment scared her more than the crow’s attempted kidnapping or whoever Rumple thought was behind the attack.

He glowered at her. “Stay. There.”

Then he stepped away from her, his demeanor changing faster than she could comprehend. Gone was the soft, worried expression he’d worn while fretting over her, replaced with something darker and more sinister. She could feel his anger now, spreading out into the air around them like electricity.

“I’ll be back soon,” he promised. “There’s a meddlesome fool that needs dealing with. It might get...late.”

S could only nod. This was the Dark One at full power, his rage wrapped around him like a cloak. He disappeared from the room without another word.

Belle shivered. Whoever was on the receiving end of Rumple’s wrath wasn’t going to live to regret it.

Author’s Notes: This chapter was inspired by ideas and comments by @rumple-belle and @pinchtheprincess from *cough* a really long time ago *cough*. I’ve included them below to give proper credit:

@rumple-belle: I just had this image of like some mean ugly crow trying to catch her and getting her cornered and Rumple comes out of nowhere and saves her. Maybe she even yells for him and does the thing where she says his name 3 times. But she doesn't think it will work because he's out making a deal. Of course it does though.

@pinchtheprincess: The silk handkerchief! That’s wonderful. Or maybe one of his older silk shirts that he was going to get rid of … AND IT SMELLS LIKE HIM. And she’s a fairy so she’s not supposed to like the smell of the Dark One, but she does.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #rumplestiltskin #belle french #fairy belle #The Fairy Gardener

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