#so like this is that without the years of training that monet had i guess i dunno i'm just trying to make an excuse for this one lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

this-is-what-makes-us-fandoms · 3 years

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Lost || Lab Rats: Elite Force ||

Chase meets a girl at the city’s art museum who strikes up a conversation with him but he’s reluctant. After what happened with Reese and Rodissius, he’s completely lost his will to trust others, especially random strangers that approach him. Little did he know that the two of you share that same fear

Pairing: Chase Davenport x Reader

Warnings: None

Words: 2K

A/N: I give you… soft Chase? Sort of soft Chase? Anyways, I haven’t properly written in a year and this is what I come back with first… Did I do good? I like it, and it feels different from everything I’ve written before, like more genuine. Anyways, enjoy and I hope you all liked it!

Chase stood in the Centium Art Museum, in front of a Monet painting that he’s already seen dozens of times. He wasn’t quite looking at the painting though, more like lost in his thoughts. Thinking about the things he came here to escape from but they only followed.

He wasn’t typically the type of person to come to an art museum, leaning more towards science. But it was quiet here, a place where he could come and collect his thoughts in peace. Somewhere where he could escape from his teammates and their pestering about things he didn’t want to talk about. Here, he could let go of himself and not worry about a single thing for just a few hours.

Plus, he was discovering a new side of himself, one that did enjoy the spoils of art. He liked the creativity and the sense of tranquility art brought. It taught him how to let go and be someone else besides Chase Davenport, bionic hero. To be himself rather than what others wanted or expected him to be. What he expected himself to be.

“Beautiful, isn’t it,” A voice said beside him, startling him out of his thoughts.

He turned his head to see a girl standing next to him, staring at the painting in front of. He tensed up just a bit, caution filling his being as he continued to look at the girl. She looked harmless, from her profile view he could see a delicate smile and gentle eyes. Nothing about her screamed threatening but that didn’t stop him from keeping his guard up.

The last girl he talked to also appeared non threatening and she ended up hurting him the most. So regardless of her appearance, he wasn’t about to let her or anything distract him. At least not like that, no, never again.

You tore your gaze away from the painting and turned your head to look at the boy. You noticed how he was just staring and your smile widened just a bit to show that you were friendly. He looked a little startled so perhaps you shouldn’t have snuck up on him.

“Sorry, I hadn’t meant to scare you. It’s not often I find someone admiring Monet’s work so deeply,” You told him.

“It’s fine, I just hadn’t noticed you there. But yes, his work is beautiful,” He replied, still weary.

“I’m {Name},” You introduced, turning full body to face him, hand outstretched in front of you.

He hesitated for a second before doing the same, softly grasping your hand in his and giving it a gentle shake. “Chase.”

“It’s nice to meet you Chase,” You replied.

You let your hand gently slip away from his before it fell behind your back. Your eyes casted downwards before shooting back up to meet his gaze, finding your heart beating a bit faster than usual. You couldn’t deny that he was attractive, more than you had expected him to be.

“Likewise,” He said shortly.

You broke your gaze from his and turned to look back at the painting, one you’ve already looked at hundreds of times. But each time you did, it was like looking at if for the first time. And you always managed to find something new in it every time you came back.

“So may I ask what brings you here?” You asked.

He didn’t reply right away, he was unsure of what to say without being so revealing. He could just say he liked art and the quiet atmosphere, nothing there that could give him away.

“I like the art and it’s quiet enough to think without interruption,” He told you.

“I can agree with you there. I love coming here and just getting lost in the art,” You said.

He hummed out in response, once again unsure of what to say or do. He was still trying to figure out what your plans were with him. After all, he couldn’t fathom the idea of someone actually being interested in him. Many people have proven that to him, that no one could actually like him.

“Would you like to get coffee or something?” You asked, interrupting his train of thought once again.

He thought about if for a second, trying to decipher any hidden meaning behind your words. He couldn’t tell with your bright smile and even brighter eyes if there was any. Although maybe this way, keeping you close, he could figure out your intentions before you could reveal them.

“Sure, coffee sounds good,” He replied, noticing how you seemed surprised.

“Okay, great! I know a coffee shop nearby,” You told him.

Before he knew it, you had led him out of the museum and down the streets of Centium City. He could only follow behind and listen to you promise that this place was great. There was something about your tone of voice that pulled at his heart. The way your voice was so light and airy, and didn’t miss a beat to your words. It was cheerful and bubbly yet soothing and calming, a certain je ne sais quoi if you will.

Before he knew it, the two of you were sat at a table, waiting for your drinks to called out. The two of you sat in silence for a bit, sitting across each other. Chase had his hands folded neatly on the table, slightly twiddling with his thumbs as he wondered if he should speak up. You took it upon yourself as you looked at him and spoke up, same tone in your voice as before but softer now that the two of you were indoors.

“So, besides art, what are some other things you like?” You asked, interested in getting to know him.

He furrowed his eyebrows at your question, this felt like some sort of interrogation tactic. Or maybe it was just you genuinely interested in him. Could he allow himself to believe that? Well, regardless of what you were trying to do, he needed to be a step ahead and make it seem like you had the upper hand in this.

“Well, its all things you probably wouldn’t be interested in,” He replied.

“Oh? And why is that?” You asked, raising an an eyebrow in amusement.

“No offense or anything but most people, especially girls—women—aren’t interested in what i’m interested in,” He explained, leaning back in his seat and shifting in it a bit. His heart raced a bit as he thought of what an idiot he must’ve sounded and looked like right now.

“Mm, enlighten me, pretend I’m someone who is typically interested in that sort of stuff,” You said, giving him this smile that made his heart skip a beat.

He leaned forward again, your words piquing his interest and his guard dropping a bit. “Science mainly, well its a lot more than that,” He started off, quick to go into a tangent of all the things science.

You listened closely and intently, a smile pulling at your lips as you noticed how excited he seemed. You leaned forward, resting your chin on the palm of your hand as he continued to talk. He looked up after a few minutes of rambling, stopping mid-sentence when he noticed you staring at him. He stopped altogether and leaned back in his chair, putting up his defenses once again as he mumbled.

“What? Is there something on my face?”

“Hm? No, no, I was just enjoying you ramble is all,” You told him.

His eyes widened a bit in shock before narrowing down at you. “Okay what’s your deal?”

You opened your mouth to speak before the voice of a barista calling out your drinks interrupted. “Hold that thought, I’ll go get our drinks.” You said before getting up and leaving him alone in his seat.

He sighed softly as he waited for you to come back, bouncing his leg in anticipation for your return. You came back a minute later, two mugs in hand as you set his drink down in front of him before taking your seat. He looked down at his drink before looking up at you, eyebrows still furrowed.

“What do you mean? Did I say something I shouldn’t have?” You asked, referring to his question from before.

“I mean, this, you, pretending to take an interest in me... What are you really up to?” He told you, his lips turning downwards in a frown.

“Pretending? Who said I was pretending?”

“Oh come on, you’re not really interested in what I have to say, are you?”

You frowned slightly and furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, not understanding why he thought this. “Well, I will say I’m not the biggest science buff... but I do like to learn and I like listening to what others have to say. Maybe I don’t fully understand everything you’re saying but it doesn’t mean you can’t teach me.”

“Alright fine, say all of that is true but why me? What makes me so interesting to listen to?” He asked.

You stayed silent for a bit, biting down on your lip and pulling it between your teeth before speaking up again. “You want the truth?” You asked back, watching as he gave you a short nod in yes. “Okay... Today wasn’t the first time I noticed you in the art museum. I’ve seen you a few other times, always so lost in thought... but its just that, you seem lost. Like you’re looking for an answer that you can’t quite reach...”

Chase was taken aback by your words, eyes widening a bit and leaning back; pushing his mug away a bit and folding his hands again, fiddling with his thumbs.

“Okay but what’s so meaningful about that? Why take an interest in it?” He questioned.

“Because I know what that feels like,” You answered all too quickly, eyes casting downwards and shying away a bit as you continued. “To search for something that should be right in front of you but isn’t. To feel like you’ve been set off balance and not knowing how to regain control. Guess I was drawn to you because of that.”

You kept your gaze down on your mug, hand wrapping around the handle and resting there as your thumb lightly caressed the rim. You bit down on your lip, feeling self-conscious now that you revealed a part of yourself that had meant to stay hidden. Chase looked down for a second before looking back up, his gaze softening from your words. He understood now why you approached him and why you’d been so adamant to get to know him. You two were one in the same, both had gotten hurt by someone or something and were looking for a way to mend yourselves.

“I’m sorry,” He spoke up, voice soft and sincere.

“Don’t be,” You said. “I would’ve been defensive too if I were you.”

You looked back up and offered him a warm smile, one he returned with the same warmth in it.

“Well, if I haven’t completely ruined this, I’d still like to get to know you,” He said, a hopeful tone in his voice.

You laughed lightly and smiled more, nodding your head a bit. “You haven’t ruined this at all and yes, I’d like that.”

He looked at you with bright eyes and gave you this wide, goofy grin. You spent the rest of that day, sitting in that little cafe, talking and getting to know each other. And for the first time in a long while, the two of you felt like you’d found someone you could trust again.

#oneshots #oneshot #one shot #lab rats #lab rats one shots #lab rats one shot #lab rats elite force #lab rats elite force one shots #lab rats elite force one shot #lab rats imagine #lab rats imagines #lab rats elite force imagines #lab rats elite force imagine #chase davenport #chase davenport one shots #chase davenport one shot #chase davenport imagines #chase davenport imagine #chase davenport x reader

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peace-coast-island · 3 years

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Diary of a Junebug

The snowy mountains of Dragonpierce

Crystal icicles can be nice to look at, but they are a pain to deal with. The mountains would be a good place to explore some more if it wasn't for the sheer cold. I applaud Connie and their friends for braving the cold and spending a good part of their vacation time here for team building activities.

Dragonpierce is one of those places where looks can be deceiving. Appearance wise it looks like any other snowy place. But when you step inside it's brutal, to say the least. Amber, Bennett, and Xiang are the real MVPs for keeping us from freezing to death with their pyro powers.

It's a shame, really. I want to explore more of the mountains - it really is a fascinating place that's full of resources we can use at the camp. The glacial gyroids were a nice find along with various plants and berries I've never seen before. But the risk is too much, especially for non-seasoned outdoors people like us. I doubt even an experienced adventurer would want to set foot in the mountains without at least three backup plans or something.

Connie and Pai are back again with their team for another retreat. Things have been going a lot better for them, especially now that they have more allies as well as no immediate threats looming ahead. In fact, it's been a little slow as things outside their control has forced them to put their main mission on hold for a bit. Though that doesn't make Connie any less busy, especially now that they're moving up ranks with the Adventurer's Guild so they're up for a promotion soon.

Turns out it's a good thing we planned this adventure because it's been a while since the original team last hung out all together. Luci and Amber have stepped back a bit to focus on the Knights so they've been eager to meet up with Connie again. Noelle, Seraphina, and Xiang have been stepping up the ranks as well, becoming part of Connie's main team for missions. Xingqiu and Bennett have been helping with the new recruits as well as building up their skills.

In terms of combat, Pai says they've improved by a lot. It also helps that they have more members as well as the fact that Noelle and Seraphina are powerful healers. They still have a long way to go in terms of being in the same league as other seasoned adventurers so that's something for them to keep working towards.

Not too long after Connie and the gang first visited the camp, Xingqiu's best friend Chongyun offered his assistance. He's a psychic exorcist with telekinesis and cryo powers. Connie had ran into him a couple times before, tagging along with him on investigations regarding reported sightings of evil spirits.

The next teammates to join were Meggie and Di, both who work at a bar/cafe. Meggie's a friend of Amber's from Stone Bridge, a neighboring town of Bonsai. Meggie is a bartender/astrologer who just moved to the city in hopes of a new start. She says she's not too keen about being a bartender but she has to pay rent somehow - she refuses to monetize astrology, something she takes seriously. Connie says whether you believe her or not, she does possess strong intuition when it comes to reading people.

I have to say, some of her observations about me were spot on. I barely know her and she managed to get a glimpse of me just by reading the stars. I don't know too much about astrology - and it's not something I want to overly look into - but I like to have an open mind. Even if astrology isn't real, I believe some people are highly intuitive - it's a trait that you can't hone in on, you either have it or don't.

Di is a waitress who's from Spring Valley, not too far from the city. She comes from a family of hunters and is a master archer with the power of stealth on her side. She's quite young so Connie has kinda unoffically adopted her. Apparently she's been going through some stuff at home, so that's why she started working at the bar despite being underage. It's not an ideal situation, particularly due to the fact that alcoholism is a thing in her family so obviously she tries to avoid falling into the same path. No wonder Connie wanted to take Di under their wing.

Then along comes Lan, a renowned captain/pirate who's traveled around the continent at least three times so far. She came to the rescue after a mishap with explosives temporarily put Connie out of commission. Apparently someone at the Adventurer's Guild thought it was a good idea to set off explosive barrels at a high cliff to extract some ores. Lan happened to be around the area when Connie literally landed in her arms.

Lan hardly spends time on land as she's always out on the open seas, so she's kinda a legend around these parts. She said she heard about Connie from Xiang as they often write letters to each other, so she was hoping to meet the honorary hero one day. And so fate decided to literally hand Connie to her, which is quite funny.

I mean, imagine falling off a high cliff and landing right in the arms of this badass pirate captain? If that happened to me, I wouldn't know what to say or do.

And finally, there's the newest team member, a conqueror of demons named Xiao. He's basically an immortal being who has been protecting the land for thousands of years, often lurking in the background. Pai never expected him to offer his assistance considering that he usually avoids interactions with others. Connie was surprised too, though they had been working together a lot since having to defend the city so that's probably why he decided to stick around.

Considering how he keeps his distance from mortals, it's also a surprise that he came along for this trip. He does admit that the only reason he reluctantly joined in was to take the opportunity to observe the team, which makes sense. Pai says he's been helping out a lot in terms of improving team combat skills so that's why he needs to know how well everyone fights and what needs to be worked on.

While the others are off doing various activities, Xiao stands in the sidelines, watching over everything. He seems like the type who takes their responsibilities seriously, the kind you shouldn't mess with at all unless you have a death wish or something.

As for this gyroid event, we're gonna use the gyroids to forge weapons designed by Luci, Xingqiu, and Connie. With the team growing and moving up in the ranks, they're in need of more advanced weapons. Noelle's claymore is pretty worn out while Di's bow isn't exactly meant for combat. Connie still has their trusty sword, but it'll be in need of upgrades later on while Xiang's looking forward to switching out her old polearm for something more sturdier. According to Connie and Luci's research, glacial gyroids can produce a range of high quality weapons. In short, it's something to take advantage of as forging weapons is expensive and hard to come by.

While the mountains of Dragonpierce are hard to navigate, Connie says it's nothing compared to the snowy mountains on the outskirts of Starcatcher and Bonsai Harbor. Over there, you can freeze to death if you're poorly prepared, so most adventurers avoid it like the plague. The sheer cold is strong enough to knock you out if you don't have adequate warmth, not to mention the fierce monsters that roam about. As a result, Connie rarely takes commissions to go there, but it's not something they can avoid entirely, not with their standing as of now.

I don't think I'd survive the mountains over there - Dragonpierce is already pushing my limits. I get that Connie and the others want to collect gyroids, but using the mountains for combat training seems a bit risky. Though it's kinda in the middle of nowhere so I guess it makes for a good training ground. Something about the extreme cold helps to put them in the right mindset? I mean, there's other places where they can train that doesn't involve them risk freezing to death but then again I know nothing about fighting and stuff.

I have to say, it's cool to watch them show off their combat skills and powers. Connie's come a long way as a leader - that's what I call growth! Pai continues to cheer on from the sidelines while offering commentary once in a while. I wonder if one day she'll join in on the field too but I feel like that's asking too much of her.

As much as Connie and Pai are thick as thieves, Pai can be a bit exasperating. Maybe that's why she gets along well with people like Connie and Jamie as they both are kinda jaded and have a low tolerance for bullshit, therefore they can keep her in rein. Also, it's funny whenever Connie roasts Pai because let's face it, she had it coming. Like Pai, we love you, but sometimes you need to step back and be quiet.

It's fun seeing them train and figure out their team dynamics. Like how Xingqiu and Chongyun work well together by coordinating their powers to freeze enemies. So naturally, Connie and Xiao want to utilize that. Xiang, Connie, and Lan also make a deadly combo with Xiang's pyro combined with Lan's electro causes an explosion. Throw in Connie's wind storm and you've got your enemies cornered in a pyro and electro tornado.

At the campsite, everyone's got their own thing going on. Amber's gliding around as usual, practicing her archery as well and bringing fruit for us in the process. Lan, Seraphina, and Xiang have been cooking up a storm in the kitchen and they really like spicy food. I mean, they literally eat hot chilis like it's nothing - it's kinda scary. I though Rika was crazy when it came to spice but I think these three are in another league.

It's a shame. really. Because if it weren't for the intense heat, I would be able to enjoy these dishes more. They taste good but the spice...why must I be weak?

Di and Noelle have taken an interest in finding materials like plants and rocks. They're really good at discovering new stuff like unusual seashells that contain iron that can be extracted or poisonous weeds that can be used to make potions. Di has her methods of handling dangerous plants safely by infusing her arrows with cryo and shooting at them to temporarily make them safe to handle by putting them into a bubble until they can be stored away.

Bennett and Xingqiu have been showing Chongyun around the camp, teaching him a bunch of stuff in the process. Apparently he doesn't go out much so things like camping is completely new to him, so he needed some time to get comfortable. He comes across as a serious person, kinda innocent and naive though, but dedicated nonetheless. I think with Xingqiu around and Connie keeping everyone in rein, he's been able to loosen up a bit.

Pai's been having fun - she's either off doing her own thing and getting into some sort of trouble or bothering someone. It seems like the others have joined in on roasting Pai when she finds herself in a mess that she caused. It's also nice seeing Connie loosen up too, probably since they've gotten comfortable in this unfamiliar world. Pai says they've been making friends and allies left and right - from ordinary citizens to people among high rankings, even some gods as well - it's pretty wild actually.

Of course, Connie remains humble and shrugs it off as it's nothing. They say the high ranking people are just like everyone else, but as for the gods, it's best to exercise caution and expect the unexpected. Also, Connie's at the point where if they hang around certain places for too long, then one of their new friends will whisk them away on some adventure or job. It's only happened a couple times so far but Connie has a feeling that as time goes on, it's gonna become a regular thing, much to Pai's frustration. Connie says they don't mind too much - at least for now.

Since the gang will be coming back in the future for another camp event, I wonder how much things will change by then. I'm looking forward to seeing more of Connie's friends as well as hear more stories about their adventures. I just hope no one insists on doing combat training in Dragonpierce again - unless they're gonna collect gyroids too.

Either way, I think I'll pass on the freezing mountains - I think that's one area I don't mind putting off exploring for a long while.

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #Diary of a Junebug #headcanon ramble

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years

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Treat You Better

Warnings: non/dubcon sex, questionable relationship lines (kinda cuckold-ish).

This is dark!Bucky Barnes and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: Bucky wants what Peter has.

Note: Okay, so I mean, this fic doesn’t involve technical cheating but if you’re sensitive to it, I wouldn’t recommend reading. Also we got a very calculating Bucky and very clueless Peter. I hope y’all enjoy!

Let me know what you think!

You hated waiting. Worse, you hated waiting for Peter. Without fail he was always late. When you planned something, you always expected to do it at least a half hour later. Tonight, you had planned to go out for drinks after a long week apart. Classes and your respective obligations had kept you away from each other. Admittedly, his were more pressing.

Still, the semester started to drag by the more you were alone and you had fewer reprieves from the endless studying and inherent chaos of your dormitory. You had flagged the day in your phone and it had gotten you through the midterm stress.

But he was late. Not just a few minutes, but a whole hour. It didn’t matter, right? Drinks could wait. The bars would be open well past midnight. It was only...9:17! Mark that; an hour and fifteen minutes late.

You sighed and unlocked your phone as you leaned back on metal and leather chair. You re-read the text for dozenth time. ‘See ya at 8.’ He had sent you that. You had confirmed with a ‘can’t wait’ and heart emoji. He had sent you five hearts in return. Yet here you were, waiting on him.

You set your phone down a little harder than you intended. The spark of anger drew the eye of the only other person in the room. It was easy to forget Bucky, even when he was right beside you. He was quiet, unassuming.

When you entered he had muttered a greeting and you had returned it. You asked him how he was; he shrugged and returned a courteous but unconcerned ‘you?’ You echoed his sentiment and began your vigil.

“Sorry…” You gave a meek smile. “I…”

“It’s fine,” He assured you. His facade didn’t crack as he went back to swiping back and forth on the tablet. He had been poring over a briefing since you arrived. It didn’t seem very brief. He yawned and shifted on the leather couch.

You leaned on your elbow and stared down at the small font of your textbook. Medieval and Renaissance Art: Themes and Narratives. You rubbed your eyes and tried not to yawn yourself. You had taken the book out about half an hour into your wait. Studying was preferable to staring at your lifeless phone.

You huffed again and tapped your fingers on the table. Where was he? There was only so much you could read about the Sistine Chapel before you found yourself staring out the window and plotting your fateful descent.

“Just call him,” Bucky’s voice surprised you. His arm was stretched across the couch as he looked over his shoulder. “Kid probably forgot...almost forgot his damn suit the last time we worked together.”

“Sounds like him,” You grumbled.

“Do it,” He said, “Really. I can’t take you moping over...whatever it is your reading.”

You lifted a brow and his lips curved slightly. He was amused with himself. You picked up your phone and stood. You waved it at him with a tilt of your head and turned away. You hit Peter’s picture and waited for it to dial.

It took two tries. He picked up as you expected to be forwarded again to his voicemail and you stuttered on your greeting.

“Hey,” He answered nervously, “What’s up?”

“Um, I’m waiting...for our drinks,” You leaned on the table and tried to keep your voice down. “It’s almost 9:30.”

“Shit,” Peter cursed on the other end. You glanced over your shoulder at Bucky who was once again focused on his confidential files. “I’m so sorry, I thought I texted you.”

“Texted me?” You wondered.

“Yeah, uh, something came up,” The inflection made it sound more a question than a statement. “You know…business.”

You nodded. You didn’t miss the crack in his voice or the poorly muffled whisper from Ned. When those two were together, it was rarely business.

“I came all the way down here, Peter,” You hissed, “Now I gotta take the subway back. At night. Thanks for the heads up.”

“I swear, I thought I hit send.” He explained thinly. You frowned.

“Sure,” You didn’t feel like arguing. Maybe you were just tired. Frustrated. It didn’t matter. “Fine, I’ll see you...Monday?”

“Tomorrow!” He said sharply, as if surprised. “Promise, babe.”

“Tomorrow,” You replied unconvinced. “Sure….love ya.”

“You too, babe.” He returned, “I...gotta go.”

The line died before you could give your own farewell. You shook your head and tucked your phone in your pocket. You turned and rounded the table to close your textbook.

“You were right, he forgot,” You muttered as you shoved the book in your tote. “Good thing I didn’t sit here for an hour and a half waiting for nothing.” You said dryly. “Now that would be stupid.”

“Ah, fuck,” Bucky leaned forward and set down his tablet. You glanced over at him as you pulled on your canvas jacket. “Now, I don’t think I could forget something as important as you.”

“Please, don’t try to make it better,” You moaned, “Really. I’m just going to go home and write that stupid paper on Titian. What an exciting Friday night.”

“You want a ride?” He offered casually as he stood and stretched. He turned with his arms over his head, his lower stomach peeked out from beneath his tee. You tried not to notice the lines of his pelvis above his jeans.

“I appreciate it but I can manage myself.” You slung your bag over your shoulder. “I got a pass.”

“Come on, let me drive you,” He insisted though his voice was as detached as ever. “I got nothing better to do.”

“I don’t know, you seemed pretty entranced,” You kidded.

“It’ll be a nice break,” He said, “And hey, a step up from the subway. Instead of a train full of strange men, you’ll only have to deal with one.”

You scoffed and shook your head. “Alright, fine. You’ve twisted my arm.”

Bucky’s car was nice. You guessed it was a perk of working for Stark Industries. And saving the world. It was much preferable to the subway. You sank into the seat with your bag on your lap. You almost felt like a child as he turned the engine.

“So, where am I going?” He unlocked the gps on his console and brought up the address bar, “Type it in, will ya?” He steered with one hand as he pulled out. “Not the greatest without this thing...as much I don’t trust robots.”

You squinted at him but shrugged off the comment. His metal hand would’ve made you think he had a natural kinship with more mechanical. And his demeanour. The street lights flashed through the windows and lit up the lines of his face as he drove out onto the street. You keyed in your address and turned to watch the city pass through your window.

“So...never asked but you study science or whatever, too?” He prompted. You looked to him slowly. You were almost stunned by the question. Not the content, merely the speaker. You almost preferred his disinterest. You guessed he was merely making small talk.

“No,” You laughed, “I suck at science. Art. Yeah, I know, I’ll make a great barista.”

“Art, eh?” He nodded. “I like art. God, that sounds like I’m stupid.” He chuckled. “You know, during the war, there was lots of stolen art. Some hidden away to prevent that. Some never found.” He cleared his throat as he turned the wheel.

“We were on our way to Germany. We’d clear towns along the way. Some of them’d be blown out so bad you couldn’t step inside for fear of it all falling on your head.” His eyes searched the road as if he was seeing another city entirely. “Others, totally untouched. Towns just empty. The people fled to avoid the same carnage...or they were dragged out by their invaders.”

You nodded. You didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t ever spoken so much in your presence. Even with Peter around.

“Anyway, we found this one apartment. It must’ve been locked up for well over a year. Place was covered in dust but...paintings everywhere. On the couches, in the kitchen sink, just dozens of them. We had them taken back to headquarters...I knew this one CO though, had him send a Monet to my ma. She loved flowers, you know?”

“Monet?” You were stunned. You’d only ever seen the famous paintings in your textbooks and on the walls of museums. “Wow. I…”

“Don’t know if it ever got to her though,” He said. “I never did.”

You bit the inside of your lip. What could you say that wouldn’t seem entirely obtuse?

“Ah, don’t worry so much.” He shrugged. “Sorry, I get a bit heavy. That’s the past though…” He stopped at a light and looked over at you. “So, you’re an artist?”

“I guess,” You said. “I like to paint and my portfolio got me into the program so...for now, I am. Until I’m off into the world of corporate desk jobs and retail gigs.”

“Ah, I see why Peter likes you. You’re a hell of an optimist,” He joked as he hit the gas and looked back to the road.

Your phone vibrated and you reached into your pocket. “No use running from the…” Your screen lit up and you swiped up to view the snap. Your voice died as you watched the video in awe and anger. “I knew it!”

You hit lock and the screen went black. Your nostrils flared and you clamped your mouth shut in a scowl. You squeezed your phone and shook your head. Bucky’s eyes flicked to the rear view than you and back through the windscreen. He laughed again.

“What?” You couldn’t help the growl.

“You,” He smirked, “You’re...cute when you’re angry. Like a little chipmunk.” You frowned deeper. “I mean...you’re fiery. It’s...I always wondered how a girl like you got mixed up with the Spider-man but I’m starting to think you might be more formidable than him.” You narrowed your eyes and he peeked over at you again. “Look, it’s a compliment. I’m not very good at them but take it for what it’s worth.”

“Gee, thanks,” You crossed your arms over your tote, “I’m flattered.”

He pulled into your dormitory parking lot and brought the car to a stop as the gps announced your arrival. “Look, try not to stress about it. He’s young, stupid. You got your whole life to be mad at him.” He said. “Or to explore your options. Who knows?”

“My type of optimism,” You chided. You grabbed the handle and inched the door open. “Thanks. Really. You didn’t have to.”

“No problem. It gave me an excuse to get off the couch,” He leaned his arm against your seat, “Hit me up if he does it again. Can’t have a girl like you on the subway so late.”

You couldn’t help the smile and you opened the door all the way as you stepped out. “Thanks. Have a good night, Bucky.”

“You too, doll.” His vibranium fingers tightened on the wheel. “Take care of yourself. Don’t let the boy get you down.”

You closed the door and stepped back. He pulled out and around the lot. You watched him leave, his headlights disappeared into the city haze and you retreated to the gate of your dorm. What an odd night. Not exactly the end you were expecting.

Bucky lifted the bar, a small breath escaped him. The muscles in his right arm strained and a shock surged at the base of his vibranium arm. While he could lift the weight with his left arm alone, he worked to keep his right as strong as he could. He may have only one arm but he didn’t want to fight like it.

His time in the gym was his alone time. A sort of meditation. He could forget about everything and just be. His body was intuitive. He moved from machine to machine with ease. His body fell easily into the patterns; running, push-ups, lifting.

He set down the bar and sat up as he rubbed his right hand. The metal of his left was warm. He stretched his vibranium fingers and watched the plates slide back into place. He moved his head from side to side to work out the kink along his shoulders.

The door opened and closed. He was rarely caught off-guard but his head wasn’t as clear as usual. It hadn’t been lately. Two nights ago he had drove her home and ever since she hadn’t left his mind. When she got out of his car, he could still smell her. She smelled of strawberries. Good enough to eat.

He stood as he turned to the intruder. Peter smiled at him and Bucky had to keep from scowling. When he thought of her, he couldn’t help but think of the boy. He was a kid truly, not to see what he had right in front of him. It filled Bucky with resent. She was so sweet, so devoted to the flaky college kid, and Peter was entirely oblivious.

“Sorry, Mr. Bucky, I was just comin’ to train,” For god’s sake, the kid still called him mister.

He shook his head and shrugged as he dropped and began another set of push-ups. “Thought there was a gym at the school.” He grunted.

“Yeah…” Peter let his voice trail off as he set his gym bag on the bench. “It’s too crowded there.”

“Mmm,” Bucky lost count after ten.

He couldn’t concentrate on the numbers as his mind strayed once more. As he lifted himself up and down, he couldn’t help but think of her. Picture her below him. He felt a stir in his shorts and held back a groan. Fuck. The things he’d do to her.

She was so delicate. He could only imagine the ways he could break her with his iron touch. She’d wilt like a flow. The juices would flow from the sweet berry and fill his mouth. He sniffed and brought himself to a halt.

He rolled onto his back and stretched out each leg. His cool down exercises would help him calm down. He was getting far too worked up over Peter’s girl. Yes, Peter’s girl. He shouldn’t have to remind himself of that.

He stood and stretched out his arms. “So, how’d your little date go with the girl?”

Peter looked at him curiously as he began to warm up. “How’d you know about that?” His voice was higher than usual.

“She was here all night waiting for you,” He replied, “Friday, that is.”

“Oh,” Peter blinked and frowned. “Well, I kinda forgot we were supposed to meet.”

“And yesterday?” Bucky prodded. He should back off. It wasn’t his business.

“I, uh...we saw a movie,” Peter squinted at him. “Why are you so concerned?”

“No reason. Drove the girl back to her dorm. She seemed down,” He tried to seem nonchalant but could barely ignored the thrill it sent up his spin. “Just...I dunno, she’s a special one. You should treat her like she is.”

“You drove her home?” Peter stopped his own stretches as the thoughts wrinkled along his forehead. “Why?”

“Didn’t want her to take the subway that late,” Bucky said coolly. “Not safe, ya know?”

“Ya,” Peter nodded and bent an arm behind his head. “I guess you’re right.”

Bucky finished up and grabbed his hoodie from the bench. He drained the last of his water and watched the kid as he began a set of sit-ups. He made it halfway to the door before he turned back. He neared the kid and stood over him. He looked down as Peter fell flat.

“What?” Peter asked.

“You really upset the girl,” Bucky said, “I doubt whatever you were doing with that friend of yours was worth it.”

“What do you care?” Peter leaned on his hands as he sat up. “She’s my girlfriend.”

“Then start acting like it,” Bucky snapped.

“Hey,” Peter hopped up to his feet. He still had to look up at the super soldier. “I don’t appreciate you getting involved, Mister.”

“Mister?” Bucky scoffed. “Ah, kid, you need to grow up. Women get tired of boys. Quickly.”

“I’m not a boy,” Peter snarled. “You need to back off.”

“Tell your girl the same,” Bucky didn’t know why he said it. It just seemed right. A bit of revenge on her behalf. A little jealousy always put things into perspective. “She’s very talkative.” Bucky let his voice linger in the air. “...Very...friendly.”

“Leave her alone!” Bucky was surprised by the kid’s strength. He very nearly stepped back as Peter shoved him.

“Oh don’t you worry. It was all innocent,” Bucky smirked. “She’s loyal, almost to a fault. But you’re pushing her to her limit. One of these days--”

“One of these days what?” Peter spat. “Why don’t you mind your own business, old man?”

“Key word being man,” Bucky countered. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Bucky patted his shoulder and backed away. He draped his hoodie over his shoulder as he pulled open the door and glanced at the kid as he stepped into the hall. Their eyes met in unspoken challenge.

The door closed between them and Bucky chuckled. His chest fluttered wildly as he pictured her face. Imagined how her body would feel against his. He’d just have to wait until the kid slipped up again.

“How many times do I have to repeat myself until you hear me?” You pulled away from Peter.

You had been entirely content until he spoiled it all. Nestled up together on the couch watching a movie on Netflix. The compound lounge was empty and peaceful. Or at least, it had been.

“I forgot,” Peter’s hand brushed your lower back as you stood and turned on him. “I’m sorry.”

“You forgot. Again. Big surprise. Anything to do with me, you always forget,” You evaded him as he rose and reached out to you. “Goddamn it, Peter. I told you about this two months ago. I’ve reminded you constantly and you just don’t even care.”

“I can tell Happy to reschedule the whole thing.” He pleaded as he followed you around the sofa.

“That’s not the point, Peter,” You growled and turned on him. He nearly tripped as you bore down on him, your finger in his face. “I’m tired of feeling like this. Ignored. A burden.”

“You’re not--”

“I am. Fuck, Pete, I don’t wanna be your biggest priority but I at least wanna be on the list,” You spat. “I mean, we both have our lives, our responsibilities. We knew that when we got into this but...you never treated my time like it was worth anything.”

He tried to grab your hand and you shoved him away. His eyes rounded in hurt.

“Peter!” You exclaimed, exasperated, “Or should I call you the amazing Spider-man, hmm? Our greatest hero. You can’t do any wrong.”

“You can’t hold that against me,” Peter shook his head.

“I don’t, Peter,” You lowered your voice. “I don’t expect you to drop everything for me, I just expect you to give me something. Anything.” You sighed and crossed your arms. “We’re on different roads, Peter. We can’t turn back now.”

“No, you...Please,” His face drained of colour. “You can’t mean it.”

“I can’t live like this. I can’t try anymore, not when you don’t.” You pressed your lips together and sniffed back your tears. “I might not be a hero but I can’t handle it all. School, you, work. I...You should enjoy it. College. We only get these years once and obviously I’m just an obstacle.”

“Don’t say that,” He neared and you hung your head. “I...can change.”

“People don’t change, Peter,” You let him hug you, his chin on your head. “Not for others. One day you’ll be ready for a relationship, I will too. But now…” You slowly drew away and hid your face. You grabbed your purse from the table. “I don’t think either of us are ready.”

“Please don’t leave,” Peter’s voice cracked as you pulled on your jacket. “Please…”

“Go save the world, Peter, it’s what your meant to do,” You opened the door and looked back at him. “But it’s not for me. This life...you’re much braver than me.”

You closed the door behind you. The hall was cold, it sent a shiver up your spine. Or was that the pit in your stomach. The twist of your insides as reality struck you across the face. It was over. Two years, done. Even if you had seen it coming, it still hurt. Inevitability was just as painful as chance.

The tears began to fall when you reached the elevator. You wiped your cheeks as you waited for the doors to ding. You were startled as a shadow appeared at the edge of your sight. You turned and brushed away the last of your tears with your sleeve. But it wasn’t Peter.

“Hey, you okay?” Bucky neared and you shied away. You sniffed again.

“I’m fine, I…” Your voice was nasally from crying.

“What’s going on?” He asked kindly. He stared at you and his blue eyes sparkled. “What did he do?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” You looked past him. “It’s...stupid college kids, you know?”

“Youth is...dramatic,” Bucky said lightly. “Doesn’t mean you don’t have a right to feel the way you do.”

You looked at him. He wore a leather jacket over his tee and his usual combat boots. He was on his way out too.

“What are you doing up?” You wondered. “It’s a bit late, isn’t it?”

“You telling me it’s late,” He scoffed as the elevator doors chimed and slid open. He waved you in ahead of him. “What about you, young lady? Out after dark?”

You laughed. “You got me,” You resigned. “I’m headed home. To sulk alone.”

He nodded and the elevator began its descent. You took out your phone and fiddled with it nervously. The silence that rose was tense. You were both thinking of what to say but neither could muster a word. You tucked your phone away and sighed as the elevator stopped.

“Hey,” He followed you out, “Wait, come on, it’s almost midnight. You need a ride?”

“I’ll be fine, really.” You assured him as he kept stride with you. “I’d hate to treat you like a chauffeur.”

“I don’t mind. Really.” He stepped ahead of you and blocked the door. “I wouldn’t feel right letting you take the subway this late. Alone.”

You squinted at him. Why did he care so much? While the gesture was nice, you weren’t so sure about his intent. Wait, this was Bucky. He was an Avenger. A hero just like Peter. Did you really prefer the underground creeps to him?

“I…” You bit your lip and peered through the glass doors on the other side of him. “...dunno.”

“Or maybe…” His lips twitched before he grasped his thought, “You wanna join me for a drink? I was just headed to this bar down the street. One drink in exchange for a ride. Fair trade, right?”

“A drink?” You raised a brow.

“Totally friendly, I promise. But you seem like you could use one,” He smiled, “I always heard it was bad to go to sleep angry.”

You stared at him as you thought. You dragged your tongue along your bottom lip as you weighed your options. You were on edge and you knew it would only get worse once you were home to stew in your self-pity.

“Alright, I suppose a drink is the least I can do,” You accepted. He turned and opened the door and waited for you to pass through. “But wait…” You stopped before the second door, “Should you be driving if you’re drinking?”

“Yeah, uh, my tolerance is...the serum kinda cancels out the alcohol.” He moved past you and grabbed the second door.

“So you drink for the taste?” You stepped out onto the street and he followed.

“It’s actually pretty sweet without the burn,” He shrugged. You walked side by side down the pavement. “And I like the bar. Small, quiet. As much as I hate crowds, it’s comforting, you know?”

“Ah,” You let him lead you to the corner and he stopped you at a small door under a plain wooden sign. “Oh, this place it cute.” You looked up at the simple moniker.

“Yeah, Peter said it was a hipster joint but I don’t really know what that means.” Bucky opened the door, once more gesturing you through. You frowned at the mention of your boyfriend. Ahem, ex-boyfriend. He noticed and winced. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s fine. It was my decision…” You shook off the sudden wave of gloom. “Look, let’s get that drink and forget about it. That’s all I wanna do.”

You entered and he followed closely behind. The bartender recognized him as you approached and Bucky greeted the woman as ‘Laura’. You smiled at her as she poured another customer’s drink. She turned to you as you dug out your wallet.

“I’ll have a gin and soda,” You said above the low din, “A lime too, if you have it. And uh, whatever he drinks.”

“Actually, I’ll try that,” He intoned, “Sounds interesting.”

You waited for your drinks and handed over your cash. You left the change as a tip and Bucky led you to a table in the corner. He sat and you did the same, dribbling a little gin down your fingers. You sipped through the thin straw and shook the moisture from your hand.

“So, how’s school?” He asked before another deathly silence could rise.

“Oh, it’s school,” You rolled your eyes, “Mostly papers and seminars. Nothing interesting. I mean, come on. You don’t wanna hear about the lameness that is the life of an art major.”

“Yeah? You’d be surprised how much paperwork is behind fighting the bad guys,” He replied, “Plus the mishap with Sam’s wings...that’s not going over well.”

“Mishap?” You prodded. “What exactly happened with the wings?”

“Well, airports don’t take well to unidentified air crafts in their zones,” Bucky chuckled, “We kind ran into some heat over Heathrow…”

One drink turned into two, which turned into a tequila shot and a third. Bucky was surprisingly good company. A nice distraction from the grief brewing at the back of your mind. You had thought of asking for that ride but the thought of being alone made you sick. Or was that the alcohol?

You giggled as you finished off your third gin and hid your mouth behind your hand as a belch threatened to rise. Bucky was entirely sober as he watched you lean back heavily in your chair. As a university student, you envied his tolerance.

“Another?” He offered as he looked to the bar.

“No, no,” You raised your hand, “No. I can’t handle anymore.”

“Lightweight,” He teased and you scowled. “There it is.”

“What?” You wiped the irritation from your face.

“That little furrow,” He pointed between his brows, “The chipmunk face.”

“Stop!” You whined and reached for your phone. 2:37 am. Holy shit! “Oh my god, it’s so late. Or early, I guess.”

“So it is,” He glanced over at your screen, “Last call already.”

“I should...go,” You stood with a wobble. You steadied yourself and untangled your purse from the back of the chair.

“Yeah, we should probably head out,” He rose and stretched his arms and grabbed his leather jacket.

“Urgh, I can’t wait to lay down,” You pulled on your canvas jacket as you followed him to the door. “What a long night?”

You yawned as you stumbled out onto the sidewalk. He was quick to catch you. His arm around your waist as he turned you in the right direction. “Careful,” He warned as he led you down the pavement. “Can’t have you messing up that pretty face of yours.”

Your cheeks burned and your lashes fluttered. You reached up to rub your neck as the heat spread. “Ha, you’re too sweet.”

“And you’re...drunk,” He chuckled as you leaned into him without thinking. He smelled of sandalwood and sweat. A hint of alcohol clung to him, too. “Come on, let’s get you back while you can still walk.”

“I’m not that bad,” You protested and elbowed him.

“Sure,” He said dryly and you sneered at his doubt.

He turned you into Stark Tower, through the two glass doors, and towards the elevator. It wasn’t until you were in the rising box that you realized you were going in the wrong direction.

“Wait…” You slurred as his arm slipped, “Why aren’t we...your car?”

He squeezed your ass and your squeaked in surprise. He turned to pin you against the elevator wall. His metal fingers pushed a stray hair back and you gasped. He leaned in as your heart hammered in your chest.

“Bucky,” You grabbed his forearm as it snaked around your hip, his hand kneaded your ass hungrily.

“You’re so fucking sexy, you know that?” He pressed his lips to yours sloppily and crushed you against the wall. You froze as his metal hand drifted down and cupped your breast. He pulled away as the floors ticked closer to the top. “Peter’s a stupid boy...how could he ever let you go?”

“He...how do you know that?” You breathed.

“Not hard to guess,” He smirked, his arm once more around your waist as the elevator doors opened and he as good as dragged you out. “Don’t worry, baby, we’re gonna show him what he’s missing out on.”

“Bucky,” You said weakly. Your head spun and the warmth of his arm hypnotized you. You felt safe; wanted. “We shouldn’t…”

“It’s okay, baby,” He pulled you around the next corner, “It’s just a little bit of fun. I know you uni girls…”

Another corner and another. He spun you against a door and his mouth was on yours again. He turned the handle as he held your hip with one hand. He devoured you as he urged you backwards into the room and kicked the door closed behind him. You clung to him to keep from stumbling, your lips working against his.

He reached up to slide your jacket down your shoulders. You let him as a small voice told you not to. His touch was hot. Intoxicating. Your jacket fell to the floor with your purse. He bunched the hem of your shirt up with his fingers. Up along your stomach and chest. He pulled away as he tugged it over your head, his eyes intent on your lacy black bra.

“Jesus,” He whispered.

Your mind was hazy, his broad shoulders blurred as he nudged you back. Your legs hit something and you fell onto the bed with a gasp. You felt him pull off your shoes, then your socks. His fingers worked deftly at the fly of your jeans as you lifted your head to watch him. This had to be a dream.

You giggled as he lifted your pelvis and glided your jeans down your legs. He stood and your vision cleared for a second as his eyes met yours. You glanced down at your body, the lacy bra and panties were all that were left to you.

“Stay there, baby,” He purred and you dropped your head. You couldn’t have moved if you tried.

You heard him moving around. You looked over as he emptied his pockets on the dresser and peeled off his leather jacket. He turned back to you and winked. His tongue poked out as he came nearer and pulled off his tee. He bent to unlace his boots and quickly kicked them off. He circled the bed as he undressed, watching you like a scavenger.

Your head lolled back and forth as you tried to keep track of him. The shadows blurred in your eyes and you closed them to still the ripple in your vision. You flinched when he touched you. His metal fingers were cold along your thighs as they crawled along the flesh. His other hand was warmer but rougher as it slid around your waist.

He lifted you and held you against him as he climbed up on the bed. He walked on his knees across the mattress and laid you down beneath him. His kiss was even more fervent than before. His tongue desperate as it slid past your lips. He ground his pelvis into you and you felt his erection through you sheer panties.

He parted and sat back on his heels. His hands explored your body as his eyes followed them. You looked down and gaped at his naked body. His cock was slightly curved but large. Your eyes rolled back as you wriggled beneath his touch.

"You're so precious, baby," He whispered as he reached around and popped open your bra with a flick.

You pouted as he tugged your bra from your arms. You caught it and he pulled it away easily. It dropped over the side of the bed and you shivered at the touch of his fingers along your hips. He guided the lace down your thighs and past your feet.

He tossed the panties away and bent over you. His lips trailed along your neck, shoulders, chest, and stomach. He hummed as the tip of his nose traced the line of your pelvis and you squirmed. His dark hair hung around his head and tickled you.

"Bucky," You breathed. "What are--"

You gulped as he kissed just above your pussy. He pushed your legs apart and bent them over his shoulders. The muscles of his shoulders rippled against your calves as he bent closer.

His slipped his tongue along the curve of your lips and pushed deeper. It was cool and sent a tingle along your thighs. You squeezed his head between your legs without thinking. His fingers danced along your ass and edged around your pussy.

He delved between your folds and you trilled. The sound was startling. Was it really you? His tongue moved from your clit to your entrance and back again. He swirled around your bud and suckled. He didn't let up, each flick of his tongue had you trembling.

You reached down to push away his head as the heat built. Instead your fingers buried in his dark hair and urged him deeper. He tickled your folds with his finger and circled your entrance. He pushed inside and you arched your back beneath him.

He drew his finger in and out before adding another. His mouth continued to play with your clit as he worked his hand. The pressure mounted and you moaned through your teeth.

His tongue and fingers moved faster. You could hear your wetness, feel it as he lapped it up. The knot unwound and you disassembled all at once. You whined as your orgasm radiated through you.

You twisted beneath him as he slowly parted from you. He looked down at you as you pressed your legs together and your hands fluttered over your torso. You closed your eyes and the after waves swept you away.

He chuckled and stroked his cock as he pulled your legs apart and dragged you closer. He rubbed his tip along your folds and it sent a shiver through you. You opened your eyes and watched as he pressed himself past your entrance. His head stretched you as he leaned over you.

He held himself up with his elbow beside your head as he slid into you. You gasped as he filled you to your limit. Your eyes went wide at the storm of lust and pain. He smiled down at your tortured delight.

"Yeah, baby," He pulled back slowly and eased back in. "You like that?"

You bit your lip and he cradled your head in his hand as he moved carefully. You shyly touched his hips; nudged him weakly as he worked against you.

"I can tell you like it." He whispered, "A girl like you needs a real man, eh?" He sped up just a little, "He can't fuck you like I can." He picked up again and you let out a mewl. "That's it, baby."

Your legs bent around him and your nails dug into his skin. Once more you felt the spring winding. His mouth smushed against yours and he nibbled your bottom lip as he parted and kissed along your cheek.

"Say my name, baby," His hips rose and fell in rhythm. "Say it."

"Bucky," You breathed.

"Again," He sped up.

"Bucky," You rasped as the heat licked at your skin.

"Louder," He urged as he rocked into you harder and harder. "Louder."

"Bucky," You raised your voice and he pushed himself up.

He grasped your hips as he sat back, his thighs against yours. His flesh clapped loudly against yours as he crashed into you. "Keep going," He hissed.

"Bucky!" You exclaimed as the tide rose higher. "Oh, Bucky, Bucky, Bucky…"

You yiped as the swell burst and you came with a violent shudder. He kept going until you were weak and breathless. Your fingers knotted in your hair.

He slowed and lingered in you. He wiggled his hips and you twitched.

"Turn over, baby," He rubbed along the back of your thigh. "I wanna see that pretty little ass."

He pulled out of you and you trembled as you struggled to move. You rolled over and raised yourself up on your knees. Your arms shook as you struggled to stay up.

He slapped your ass and you nearly fell forward. He seized your hips again and pulled you back against him. He entered you in a single motion. Your pussy squelched around him and you moaned.

All pretense was gone. He pounded into you and you fell down to your elbows. His pelvis crashed against your ass and he bent over you to fondle your tits. You purred and pushed back into him, longing for more.

His metal hand went to your throat and he sat up. He took you with him, your back against his muscled torso. His grip tightened as he fucked you without pause. His other hand found your pussy and his fingers twirled around your clit.

"Are you gonna cum again, baby?" He growled in your ear. You nodded and his fingers slackened just a little. "Let me hear it." His breath was hot along your temple. "Let me hear you cum."

"Ah, ah, ah," You panted and closed your eyes as another orgasm broke through. "I'm cum--cumming."

You shook and he caressed you through your climax before dragging his wet fingers along your stomach. His metal hand choked you as his other hooked around your shoulder and he forced you down harder onto his cock.

"Fuck, baby, can I cum in you? I'm gonna cum," His lips brushed over your hair.

"N-n-no," You wheezed and clawed at his hand. "N-not inside."

"Inside?" He snarled and sank into you completely. His hips twitched and he gave several long thrusts. He came as you batted helplessly at his metal hand. "God, baby, you feel so good."

He slowed and lowered your bodies together so that he was on top of you. He pushed inside as deep as he could and you cried out as he hit your cervix.

"You like it when I fill you up?" He ran his nose along your ear. "Hmm?"

You buried your face in the mattress and steadied your breath. He kissed the back of your head and pulled out of you carefully. You felt the stream of his cum and yours as it leaked between your thighs. You shook your head and the cloud grew thicker.

You rolled over as the bed shifted and you watched as Bucky's vague figure walked to the dresser. You sat up and squinted at him as he turned back with something in his hand. His phone was pointed at you as he neared.

"Bucky?" You blinked in confusion, "What--"

"Say hi," He smirked as he moved the lens up and down your body. Your mouth fell open as he turned the camera back on him. "Who's an old man now, Petey boy?"

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #fic #au #one shot #captain america #mcu #marvel #peter parker #spider-man #dark!fic #darkverse #dark!verse

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smolbeandrabbles · 4 years

Text

Veritas - Elias x Reader (Trespass)

The ‘x’ is very suspect. 😉

@mandy23b @wltz-bby @happyskywhale #MendoTagSquad

Author’s Note: The fact I even wanted to watch this is all on you two. Yes you two! I hope you’re happy-! Thank you for making gifs, thank you for reblogging gifs, thank you for watching with me! Actually to be real with you, this was a plot thread for Kyle Sullivan from Guns For Hire (hence why he is name dropped constantly) but at least Elias gets a little more character development! 😁

I realise that Nick Cage’s character was also called Kyle, but oh well-! Too late to back out now, maybe Elias just shouldn’t mess with people called Kyle...?? 🤷‍♀️

Don’t Play - Halsey

Disclaimer: Trespass and everything associated not mine / lyrics not mine (but hey! No song title!)

Premise: On the trail of your own payment, a group of robbers pick the wrong house to mess with... One in particular catches your interest.

Words: 3975

Warnings: Swearing / comically written action scenes!

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All alone out in Saint-Tropez Lookin' as fine as this damn Monet Everybody thirsty, drinks on me Tryna take back what you say to me I don't give a damn what you say to me There ain't no time for games with me I'm moving on, I'm getting paid I'm on my own, I had some space to deal with it I'm moving on, it's getting late Go and grab someone and find a place to deal with it I’m not the type to be out past dawn Tomorrow got a flight headed to Taiwan Now you know where the bottle gone Drippin' so wet with the Pérignon I am not the type to admit I'm on How could I lie when we sip so strong? Yeah, don't even try Can't fuck up my vibe Double cuppin' in the ride Motherfucker, don't play with me

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Sometimes you wondered why you even did this job anymore. There was something about your professionalism that felt your skills would be better used elsewhere. But here you were. It wasn’t exactly something you could escape now – even if you somehow managed that, you’d be tracked down and killed eventually. And hiding was no way to live. It wasn’t that you didn’t – enjoy was the wrong word, but – enjoy what you did, it was that it seemed to get easier… Unless you were just getting better? Perhaps. You’d been at this alone for quite some time and before that, with your mentor by your side… Years almost blurred, and you’d been bounced around the world more times than you could count, so even your time zones were out of sync. However, now you were back ‘home’ in the US of A you could adjust a little better; despite the presence of four time zones of its own. You were currently working jobs down the East coast, so were only stuck in one. You stretched, before dismantling your firearm, satisfied that the clean-up exercise was also done. Re-opening the office door you walked out into the corridor as if nothing was wrong; flipping all the security switches back to normal you watched all the CCTV screens re-illuminate. You wouldn’t be in any footage; almost as if you never had been around… Walking back onto the street in the warm night air you were approached by a second man; “It’s done?” “Of course.” “…It’s no wonder they nickname you as they do is it?” He was referring to the odd, and yet appropriate moniker you’d been given within the circles of your profession. “Joel. It’s my job to get in and out without getting noticed…” You rummaged in your pocket for a moment, producing a packet from your coat, “See this gets sent to the correct people.” “Of course… There’s a call, waiting for you.” “I would have figured…” You walked together towards a black car parked up on the curb, nothing too flashy, nothing to draw too much attention. “…Thank you, Joel.” “See you back at HQ.” “That you will.” He opened the door, allowing you to step in. The car pulled smoothly away from the curb - you took one breath, and picked up the call. “Good evening Sir.” “I trust it is done.” “Yes. All accounted for. Documents sent.” “Good. Your payment will be wired to you as soon as we receive it.” “Thank you, Sir.” “You haven’t let us down.” “Do I ever?” You could almost hear the small smile, “No. I have another for you. We’ll talk about it as soon as you arrive.” “Of course, Thank you Sir.”

*** The sound of smashing glass downstairs only made you curious. You could guess straight away why someone would look at this house and think it was worth robbing – that or they had a grudge against the owner. If you were honest with yourself, you’d also understand that one. Only their presence here was about to make your errand run a little harder. Whoever they were clearly hadn’t done any research on the man himself, but you’d leave them to ransack the place and find nothing of value. Mostly because you already had the majority of it on you. Kyle Sullivan had hired you for plenty of jobs before – though you thought, considering your hefty price tag, that his real intention was just to get to see your face – and usually he paid. Well this time Kyle didn’t have the money (or so he said) and you were about to move on; not exactly being the trusting kind or one to wait, you decided to take matters into your own hands and turn up at his house. Mr.Sullivan wasn’t around, so you’d simply take the next best thing, and call yourselves even. You slid the dresser draw closed and listened for a moment – there was a lot of commotion, clearly they weren’t aiming to be inconspicuous, and you picked out four distinct voices. Three male, one female. Immediately your brain set to work and you straightened, walking across the bedroom floor to listen a little clearer. Kyle had a timer system in his house to make it look like people were around when they really weren’t, he used to bluff that it helped with the security, clearly not. It was how you’d managed to get around – though to be honest you’d be just as effective in the dark with a torch. Not-so-hushed voices floated to you from the lower level, “There’s gotta be a safe somewhere-!” “Alright, we’ll split, office, bedroom, look for anything that seems like an obvious place to hide a safe!” You rolled your eyes; “Idiots.” You didn’t exactly want to leave Kyle’s house full of dead bodies if you could help it – it’d be a waste of ammunition apart from anything else. Wondering if they knew the building layout, you moved from the bedroom to the top of the stairs – having dispersed from below, you descended carefully pulling your gun from it’s hiding place. You might assume they were armed; you wondered why they hadn’t questioned that the alarm wasn’t. If these guys are amateurs, I swear to god… Glass was sprinkled all over the floor from their makeshift entrance – there was a chill in the night air, but you didn’t shiver as the breeze swept in. All you could really think was it’d cost Kyle money he ‘didn’t have’ to fix it all again. You glided silently across the lobby floor, trying to decide which set of footsteps to follow; it was oddly quiet for there being five bodies in the house, but you supposed soon enough there would be shouting of ‘anyone found anything’ and you’d prefer they didn’t have time to mobilize as a group again. Having said that, you’d taken out rooms full of people who were real threats before now. This group was nothing. Even in heels you could make yourself silent as you followed the heaviest set of footsteps; you’d trained to walk, run, fight and even land on heels like this for a very long time, so being quiet was a cake walk… There weren’t many shadows left in a house when every light was being thrown on, but you made use of those there were, and your silence. And it was pretty easy to take a good look at four people who weren’t doing their best to hide. You could hide in plain sight if you wanted; you certainly weren’t about to stand around doing so though – you didn’t need yelling and screaming, you needed four quick strikes, so no one would know what had hit them. The order was determined for you – there was only one of them, perhaps two, that really knew what they were doing. The biggest was the obvious first target, because he was the one that looked like he could take you in a fair fight. He was very meticulous in the things he touched and inspected, proceeding from room to room – the expert. The leader was also obvious just by the way that he moved, less meticulous but nonchalant, cool headed – in control, or so he might think. The third man needed to be taken out as quickly as the first; you’d observed people long enough to know what someone dulled down on medication looked like – well, he was the opposite, a jittery livewire who looked like he’d ignored doctors’ orders for longer than safe to do so. Yet if you thought he was tearing up rooms in a state (and you kinda pitied Kyle at this point, but at least he probably wouldn’t know it was you who stole anything.) it was nothing compared to the woman. Your head tipped as you watched the way she would open one draw, be half way through it and get distracted by something else – pulling clothes out of wardrobes, trying them on before discarding them and trying on something else. What was telling was that you could walk half way into the room and your presence wasn’t noticed. Hard drugs were your first and only thought – there were enough tells on her. You rolled your eyes and traced your way back to the lobby before taking a deep breath, neatening your clothing to make sure it wasn’t about to hinder you, you pulled your hair back off your face and checked your gun was loaded – just in case - tucking it into the front of your pants for easy access. That would have been dangerous, but you were a trained assassin, if you couldn’t handle that what could you handle?

You stretched and, turning on your heels, started towards your first victim of the evening. Usually you’d shoot to kill even if the person in question wasn’t your intended target, if they were getting in the way of what you needed to do. You didn’t see the point here – get them down, finish up your own work, and get out of here as soon as possible. You were right about the first man, he was the heaviest armed – and heaviest set, meaning stealth and speed were going to be the only things getting you through this. Your run up from the room opposite was good, and if he was turning because he heard you or just to move didn’t matter. Your flurry of strikes caught a pressure point, then a nerve, then his head, as you flipped him over your shoulder where he slammed pretty hard onto the floor. You paused for a second, but there wasn’t even a ‘everyone okay-!?’ or curious scuffle from anyone else. You straightened, brushing yourself off, possible overkill – but he was out cold. You smirked; this was child’s play. The second man was a little easier, although you figured slamming his head into anything probably wouldn’t help the fact he needed medication. You frisked both for anything useful before heading back to the woman; now leaving a trail of clothes up the corridor she wasn’t particularly hard to find again – and you even got cocky enough to have your heels occasionally strike the floor. It was still one of your favourite noises – perhaps the reason you wore them. You found yourself watching her again and almost pitied her – almost. Your movement across this room was a little slower; and you weren’t sure you wanted to hurt her by knocking her into anything. You got as close as possible before throwing your arm around her neck – she let out a gasp of surprise but not much else before she struggled. “Hush… Sweetie, it’ll be easier on you…” You tightened your hold, dragging her slowly down to the floor as her grip on you loosened. “That’s it… that’s it… good girl…” You let her go as she lost consciousness, puling yourself upright. That gave you a little bit of time to deal with the ring leader. You collected your bag of things and threw it around yourself; pulling your pistol, this time you kept it in hand as you walked through the house. This time he made himself a little harder to find right at the back of the house, and you pulled a chair out to wait for him in a side corridor; legs spread you leant over a knee, gun pointed to the floor, head supported by your palm as you ran your fingers over your lips. You’d give him a minute to realise there was nothing worth it this way and walk back. He did. And you were glad to see his peripheral vision wasn’t as shocking as nearly everyone else’s apparently was by the way he walked by your corridor and paused. By the time he’d taken a step back to turn to you it was already too late. *** Elias wasn’t exactly sure if he’d missed it entirely or you’d just popped up out of nowhere, but as soon as he stepped back, he was confronted by a woman running at speed for him. And that was the last thing in hell that was supposed to be happening. He sidestepped, but you expected it; grabbing his leather jacket you slammed him into the opposite wall. He was a fighter though, and immediately his arm went for yours and he pushed back from the wall, you weren’t having that. SMACK – one elbow to his chest knocked the air from him and made him stagger backwards but there was no way you was letting him get away that easy; his firearm was out of reach of his hands if he still wanted to fend you off, and it was easy for you to take and send skittering across the floor. This apparently made him very angry, and you dodged his swipes, long coat blurring and disguising your movements. Discovering that he was a quick learner, he had your next few hits pretty well countered, but of course he wasn’t paying attention to your legs – and you had his feet swept from under him; now he was grounded. “GUYS!” “Oh honey, they aren’t gonna hear you… You and I are the only conscious people in this house…” Elias’s eyes flicked to the gun in your hand, still pointed to the floor. If he could get that from you, he might just have a chance. You continued to walk forward; “I don’t know if you know, but you picked the wrong house to try and rob…” as you did so Elias backed up, and eventually managed to scramble to his feet. You rolled your eyes again; some people never learn. He came for you once more; having you move to your right was a better move than you’d anticipated, as his hand reached out to snap around your wrist; his grip was tight and he had your gun hand immobilised. Bringing you closer he crossed your arm around your front, this time pushing you against the wall. “How’d you like it, huh?” “Dunno, it’s been a while since a man had me pushed up against a wall. Maybe you should do it again and I’ll tell you.” You gave him a little smirk – situation hardly worrying you. You’d been in much worse. Elias’ eyes narrowed, but the pause in action allowed him a minute to catch his breath and survey you. Even in heels you were a little shorter than him, hair pulled neatly off your face to make sure it didn’t get in your way you were dressed in all black and all business. The kind of work he did. Your eyes regarded him with a mix of distain and interest, your skin held just a hint of a tan, as if your holidays in exotic places were just wearing off… And for all he knew they could have been, but then why were you stealing from this house? Unless you were security, but you didn’t dress like security.

His blue eyes traced back to your hand; the ring on your finger. It was a tarnished silver… the Latin cut from the ring, hollow/ Veritas. “Truth?” You gave a nod, impressed if only for a second. Elias removed his hand from your wrist to notice the ink under his fingers; “verum nocet?” “Truth hurts.” - though now he’d loosened his hold on you - “A little like this.” You pushed him back and delivered a swift kick to his chest – this time when he hit the floor it sounded painful, and the thud echoed around the living room. “Now…” You clicked the safety back on your gun and holstered it again, “Personally, I don’t like leaving a mess. But I certainly could if I needed to…” You stepped over him, and watched the way he breathed heavily, but his eyes still traced your body. God, men are so predictable. A beep sounded from another room and you raised your eyebrow, “Is that… a 20-minute burglary alarm? Oh my god, you guys are amateurs. This is kinda embarrassing…” For them, obviously. You titled your head, “What’s your problem with Kyle Sullivan?” “We don’t have one.” He managed, still winded, “Have you seen this fucking house? Why are you here?” “Kyle hired me to assassinate someone and didn’t pay up, I’m just taking what’s due to me. I heard you talking about safes, but you’ve picked the wrong man, …?” He realised you were waiting for his name, but you didn’t miss his eyes widen at the word assassinate; “…Elias.” “…Elias. Because Mr.Sullivan keeps the real important things at the bank or in his downtown office… The only things worth taking are in my bag, because I know where to look. You guys are a little late.” “What did you do to everyone-!? What the hell did you do!? My brother, my girlfriend-!?” “She’s your girlfriend?” You raised an eyebrow, “Oh. Oops…” You pushed your heel into his chest; “…Oh, honey, I think you could do better…” You gave a smirk at the wince on his face and crouched slowly. He was still giving you that same look and the only thought that crossed your mind was ‘some girlfriend…’ You bit your lip, eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips and back; “Like me…” “I don’t even know your name.” You moved your foot so you were now straddling him, hands either side of his head; “OH. Elias, don’t let that stop you! Though, you seem pretty immobilised at the moment, honey…” You leant down, face close to his, “Besides – when else are you gonna get the opportunity to say you got to kiss an assassin and live, hmm?” “Maybe you should get out the Champagne and we can celebrate.” You liked his attitude, even pinned under you. “Perignon do you? He’ll have some somewhere.” Elias scoffed, “Sounds like your interest in this guy isn’t purely professional.” “Please. I don’t sleep with clients.” You watched his eyes trace your body again and this time he bit his lip. “You sure about that girlfriend of yours?” “Shut up.” His eyes met yours again, “What do you want?” “To get out of here without a hitch with my shit, darlin’…” You ran your nails over his face, and he shuddered, lips parted, “…You’re not going to make that too hard, are you? Cuz I can be out of your hair in five minutes if you want…” Elias’ eyes fluttered closed as they scraped down his neck and over his chest. “Fuck…” “Tell me you’re not still thinking about her…” You gave a smirk, “Do you want me to give you a name to scream?” His eyes snapped open at that and he swallowed hard, but you chuckled, “Don’t worry, I hardly have the time. But baby, understand I can’t just let you go… Still, I’d like not to leave Kyle’s house a complete mess. So, I don’t want to have to kill you.” You leant over him again, this time running your hand through his hair. “So why don’t you be good, hmm? And we can all get out of this mess alive.” “…Why…Why Veritas?” You raised an eyebrow, “You get five minutes with me and you chose to discuss Latin?” You smiled, face close to his “…That’s poetic… Do you ask every girl you meet why she had the tattoos she does?” “That’s not just a tattoo.” Elias got this cocky look on his face suddenly, and his eyes flashed, like he’d just figured you out; Your voice got a little lower; “The truth is a powerful thing…” He very nearly scoffed, but that turned to a gasp as soon as your hips ground against his – it was nothing more than a tease, as much as a warning. Just to let him know who was in control here. “Which makes it a problem, no matter what you say. Which is why people lie. Half of my life is based on pretending I’m something I’m not. By the time they find out what I really am… It’s too late. Truth hurts… My mentor used to say it all the time. Before he shot.” “Must have been quite the man.” “Mmmm.” You nodded, “Twice the man you think you are.” That was enough for him to growl; sick of you mocking him, Elias grabbed your shirt and pulled you in, lips on yours roughly, his kiss was harsh – you pinned his wrists back – determined to keep it for as long as you could. It wasn’t like you got to do something like this often, you didn’t keep relationships like this – they usually ended in disaster. You pulled back, both breathless and he could tell by the look on your face that you were about to say something else smart – which only led to him yanking you back for another; he freed one hand – running it through your hair; this time your grind against his hips was pretty near involuntary, and he arched his body up into yours. Elias very nearly hated himself for moaning, but this was comparable to hate sex (unfortunately void of real sex) and he wanted nothing more than for you to tear his clothes off and have him right here. It was delightfully sinful to even think about. But you pulled back, and before he could think his next thought, you’d dragged him across the floor and cable tied him to the coffee table. “What the Fuck!?” “Oh, baby…” you stole another kiss, “I told you, I can’t stay for that. And…” You threw your bag back across your body from where you had left it, “You know what they say, leave ‘em wanting more…” You crouched again, but were unable to resist giving him another hot kiss, nails back to digging into his face and throat, “Now your friends will be awake soon, just hope it’s before Mr.Sullivan gets home…” You straightened up, “I should thank you, Elias… I can blame all this on you…” You winked and blew him another kiss, “That was enjoyable. I’d like to get a little hotter and heavier if our paths ever cross again… I won’t tell her if you don’t.” With that you swept through their make shift entrance, hardly paying attention to whatever he was yelling after you, and hopped back into your car. Maybe you’d give Kyle a tip off tomorrow… Maybe you’d just let him wallow in misery, you wouldn’t have to do this if he had just paid you properly. You pulled away from the house with a smirk on your face – you couldn’t help but admit, that was the most fun you’d had on a job for a long time. *** Elias was not impressed that they were all laughing at him, “Will you just get me the fuck out of here-!?” “Alright, hold still…” “I have been reliably informed that we’re out of luck on this one.” “Well. There’s always another rich bastard somewhere else…” “There’s that…” Elias rubbed his wrists and stood; but as he did so something fell from his jacket – landing on the floor it looked like nothing more than a white piece of card. Ty picked it up with a raised eyebrow, and then looked back to Elias; “Elias, who’s Y/N?” “Huh?” “Dude it fell from your jac-” “I know!” He took it, flipping it over. The second side was black; your name in little white letters and a number underneath. That wasn’t coincidence – that was you. It had to be you. Did assassins have calling cards? He couldn’t help but smirk to himself before he flipped it back. The light caught it just right, and the iridescent white suddenly shone out against the dull card. Veritas.

Truth. Truth was you wanted to see him again. Truth was, it might have only been a kiss, but he wanted that just as bad.

---

Thank you for reading! 😁

#Trespass #Elias #Ben Mendelsohn #Would 100% write more of this!#Assassin Extrodinare #151 #Linzi Writes #Smol Bean Drabbles #Carla #Carla Lagorio #I get to bring Carla back for round 2 with a different man but the same kinda prospect?#whats funny Ms.Amanda is I had this plot before you said anything about the type of girl you wanted him to have #and I was cackling #She's certainly a man eater - but she's meant to be so I'll forgive her #Theres a TON of Bookdock Saints references in this #If you can't guess whereabouts I made my OC... hahahaha... that's where she started!

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

Not Nineteen Forever (9) (Branjie/Scyvie) - Ortega

a/n: it’s BA-ACK! hope u guys enjoy this chapter, and as always pls send me love to my blog/to this blog because i love attention xo

please note: this fic contains young adults often behaving in irresponsible/unadvisable ways with regards to alcohol, drugs and sex. if you are someone who feels as if they could be heavily influenced by fic and incorporate what happens in the plot into ur own life, pls steer clear!

summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.

last chapter: supermarket chaos, and Brooke found out about the Branjie sweepstake. she didn’t take it well.

this chapter: Brooke and Vanessa talk things out, and there’s apologies to be said.

***

It had started to rain. Brooke was beginning to regret her choice of jacket- a leather one without a hood- but she had been going to wash her hair that evening anyway, and she supposed that was the least of her worries at the moment. As the rain began to batter down, Brooke realised that half the reason why her face was wet was because she was crying. It didn’t make any sense for that to be the case- Brooke was angry, fucking fuming to be specific, but she wasn’t necessarily sad. Perhaps embarrassed was the correct word, she thought, as she swiped at her face with her sleeve. The thought of her entire friendship group having a good laugh at her and Vanessa’s expense made her cheeks burn and the blood in her veins do the same.

Brooke didn’t really know where she was walking to, but she knew where she was walking from, and she was damned if she was going back to the flat anytime soon. Sniffing harshly, she removed her phone from her pocket and called Vanessa, the other girl picking up in about one and a half rings.

“Hey.”

“Hey, baby,” Vanessa’s voice was defeated. Brooke decided it was the worst thing she’d ever heard in her entire life.

“Sorry for phoning. I just had to talk to you after all that shit on the group chat, I mean…how could they fucking do that, Ness, our own fucking friends? I just-”

“I’m fuckin’ raging at them, Brooke, honestly. I went out for shopping then I got those messages through and I’ve not been able to concentrate since. I’ve just been pacin’ and pacin’ around Sainsbury’s like a fuckin’ bear in a zoo. Look, where are you just now?”

“Um,” Brooke began, scanning her surroundings. She’d been walking so fast that she’d barely been taking them in. “In the middle of the park. I’m about five minutes from Sainsbury’s, actually.”

“I’ll meet you halfway, okay? See you soon.“

With that, Vanessa abruptly hung up. Brooke took it more as a comment on her friends and not herself. As she began walking with some purpose at last, Brooke found herself wondering what she was actually going to say to Vanessa when they saw each other. Rant, probably. But there was something that instantly calmed Brooke down knowing she would be seeing Vanessa soon and get to hold her, having her reassure her and placate her.

It ended up being about three-quarters due to Vanessa’s shorter legs rendering her slower and Brooke’s long ones ensuring she took big strides. Brooke saw her coming towards her from a distance just at the park’s edge and as they both reached out for a hug, they crashed into each other with a force that accurately conveyed both their anger and just how much they seemed to have missed each other in the 24 hour period they’d been apart.

“Fuck them,” Vanessa muttered into Brooke’s jacket. She was wearing her massive parka, the one with the fluffy pink hood. To Brooke, it made her all the more cuddly. She gave her a squeeze around her middle and tilted her chin up to press a quick kiss to her lips, coming back again for a second, then a third.

“Let’s go somewhere,” Brooke decided, slipping her arm through Vanessa’s and instantly feeling about 80% calmer. “There’s that new bar that opened up round the corner. Could try there?”

They walked towards it wordlessly, a journey that only took about three minutes but in that time hundreds of unsavoury thoughts had begun to swirl around in Brooke’s head like floating bits of food waste down a plughole. She waited until they had found a booth through the back in relative quiet and until Vanessa had shrugged her damp jacket off before she let rip.

“I just can’t fucking believe it, Ness. Like, I know we kept stuff from everyone but a fucking sweepstake. Jesus Christ. The thought of everyone sitting and putting bets and watching our every move…like how long has it been going on for?! How long have we just been like performing monkeys to them?! I mean Christ, we only just found out we liked each other less than a month ago!” Brooke hissed, Vanessa sitting and nodding rapidly in affirmation as she spoke.

“I’m just hurt,” she sighed heavily, breaking Brooke’s heart in the process. “I mean I don’t know why I didn’t tell Silk and Kiki, but I just…didn’t. Everything was so new and weird between us. Hell, I guess it still is."

Brooke smiled back at Vanessa across the table, who was shooting a shy one her way. "I guess that was why I never told Yvie and Nina either. I didn’t want them making fun of us. Guess that turned out well."

Vanessa gave a quick laugh that lit up Brooke’s insides. She fumbled around in her jacket pocket for her purse. "What do you want to drink? I’ll get them in."

Too exhausted to argue over who was paying, Brooke conceded. "Gin and lemonade.”

Vanessa gave a wordless nod as she strutted up to the bar. Self-conscious of being left on her own, Brooke took out her phone and flipped it over in her hands. There weren’t any new messages to the chat- it was likely that the girls were using whatever one they had for the sweepstake to talk about what had happened in private- but Brooke had a string of missed calls from Yvie and Nina, and a few from Scarlet. There was a sole voicemail from Nina, which Brooke listened to.

“Brooke, hey, it’s me. Call me when you get this, or Yvie, or any of us really. We’re all really sorry and we’re worried about you.”

At that moment, Brooke could hear Yvie’s voice in the background, panicked and harsh, yelling at Nina about how nobody left voicemails in this day and fucking age and how Brooke was unlikely to even listen to it.

“Uh, yeah, so to sum up- we’re sorry, we love you, call us. Bye.”

Brooke couldn’t help but quirk a smile at that. She loved Nina so much, the girl was so kind-hearted and loving and caring. Which was why it made her betrayal all the more hurtful and so damn fucking confusing. Why would Nina do something like that to Brooke? Unless of course, Nina didn’t see it that way at all. Unless she really genuinely thought Brooke and Vanessa would have found it funny.

Brooke was deep in thought as Vanessa returned with one gin and lemonade, one pink gin and lemonade, and a packet of salt and vinegar kettle chips.

“Fifteen forty-five for all of that. You better buy me some diamonds or some shit and then we’re even,” she quipped, raising her eyebrows as she sat down opposite Brooke. She smiled indulgently at her.

“Can I ask you something?” Brooke began hesitantly, her mind still working overtime. “If I had wanted to set up a sweepstake about like…Scarlet and Yvie. Or Nina and Monet. Would you have gone along with it?”

Vanessa shrugged and sipped her drink. “Yeah, because that shit’s funny. And cute, because it’s them. It’s different with us. We ain’t…you know. We ain’t like them.”

Brooke frowned a little and tried not to dwell on Vanessa’s justification, focusing more on her current train of thought. “But maybe that’s what the others thought when they made that sweepstake for us. Maybe they genuinely thought it was funny."

Vanessa narrowed her eyes. "Nina thinks that Michael MacIntyre is a funny comedian, it don’t make her correct.”

Brooke pulled a face and sipped her own drink. She’d been so angry and quick to judge, but now that she was with Vanessa and she’d had time to calm down, maybe the others were right. Maybe they’d both gone about this whole thing in the wrong way. Brooke hadn’t realised she’d been staring into space until she heard Vanessa drum on the table with her nails.

“So, uh,” she bit her lip and smiled up at Brooke. “You like me, huh?”

Brooke’s blood suddenly turned to ice. “What?”

Vanessa had gone a little bit red. It was out of character for her, and it made Brooke blush as well. “Earlier. You basically said you liked me.”

Brooke felt her speech catch in her throat. “Well I meant…we had that conversation in Liezen-”

“About how we liked kissing each other, yeah. And then we had a conversation about how we liked fuckin’ each other. But we’ve never had a conversation about actually liking each other. You were the one that said that,” Vanessa finished Brooke’s sentence mischievously. Brooke suddenly found herself wishing she was directly above a trapdoor that would plummet her into the Earth’s core and burn her to a crisp. She simply stared at Vanessa with her mouth open slightly, wondering what the correct thing to say was. Vanessa only laughed in response, growing more red as she spoke again. “So you like me?"

Brooke forced herself to look at the table top. If she looked at Vanessa she’d die. This was the moment she’d been waiting basically her entire university career for, the speech she’d been rehearsing for about three years, so why couldn’t she physically speak? She took a sip of her drink and grew a set of balls and locked eyes with Vanessa. "Yeah, I do.”

Vanessa’s face broke out into an uncontrollable smile as she tipped her head back to the ceiling, and Brooke found her heart going into cardiac arrest. “Do you, uh. Do you…feel…the same about me?"

Vanessa burst out laughing, Brooke wondering how what felt like her life hanging in the balance could be so funny to her. "Take a fuckin’ guess.”

Brooke spluttered an awkward, nervous laugh. It seemed like a yes? She felt like Vanessa wouldn’t have taken things as far as they’d gone if it wasn’t. “Yes?”

Vanessa tucked her hair behind her ears, tried to suppress her smile, and failed. In a quiet voice, she confirmed. “Fuck, Brooke…I’m crazy about you”

Brooke felt her heart explode and her eyes transform into love hearts and all of her insides get churned around like a cement mixer. She laughed and reached for Vanessa’s hand across the table. “Jesus. Well. Good. Okay. I really want to kiss you.”

Vanessa rapidly bounced into the seat beside Brooke like an excitable bunny and met her lips with her own. They kissed hard and passionately, and Vanessa had her hands tangled in Brooke’s damp hair and fuck, Brooke would need to pull away before things escalated and they were barred from the pub for doing something indecent. So Brooke pulled back, Vanessa tilting her head up needily, pouting and letting out a small whine.

“Whining,” Brooke simply said, a warning tone to her voice which made Vanessa’s pout get bigger and her eyes flash a little with lust. It shot Brooke back to when Vanessa was writhing underneath her with her face buried in the pillow and her hips squirming and bucking, as Brooke made her beg for what she wanted and the other girl kept up a litany of moans and whines and sighs. Fuck, no wonder Yvie and Nina had called bullshit when Brooke had denied everything. “Bratty behaviour.”

“Yeah well, I like getting my way,” Vanessa shrugged, smiling deliciously and flicking her eyes down to Brooke’s lips. Lowering her voice, she whispered. “And I’m touching myself under the table.”

Brooke almost choked. Rapidly, she craned her neck to find Vanessa’s hands sat against the leather covers of the seat, absolutely nowhere near her crotch. As Brooke sighed in relief and only about 60% disappointment, Vanessa howled a laugh. “Oh my God! Bitch! You are so fucking easy to wind up! It’s too fucking easy!”

“You’re too fucking easy, you big slut,” Brooke deadpanned, pushing Vanessa’s shoulder and letting out a laugh in spite of herself. Sighing, she picked at the crisps. “Speaking of big sluts. Our friends.”

“Yes.”

Brooke exhaled. “You know, now that I actually know you like me, the sweepstake does seem kind of funny.”

Vanessa smiled guiltily. “Yeah. Kinda does.”

Brooke frowned. “I mean they’re still absolute dicks for doing it in the first place, but our friends are dicks. What’s new.”

“True. I’m still mad at them though.”

“Ness. We didn’t tell them a single thing about what’s happening between us. The least they’re going to do is speculate. We did kind of make our beds a little bit here,” Brooke sighed, taking another handful of crisps. Vanessa exhaled and rolled her eyes.

“Can we at least make them feel real shit about it?”

“Yes. Although I don’t know if you’ll succeed with Silky.”

“That bitch could bomb half the Southern hemisphere and she’d still maintain it was the funniest joke she’d ever played,” Vanessa raised her eyebrows, Brooke snorting a laugh beside her. As they both grew quiet, Brooke found herself laying a protective arm over Vanessa’s shoulders.

“Hey. You okay?”

Vanessa looked up at her, her dark eyes and blown pupils making them seem so huge and deep, and Brooke knew they weren’t girlfriends yet but she felt so lucky to even be with her, beside her, knowing that she liked her and Vanessa liked her back. That was enough for now.

“I’m good. I just don’t want to go back to the flat. It’s gonna be awkward,” Vanessa pouted, Brooke pulling a face as she agreed.

“It will. But you’ll be fine. You’ll all talk it out and we’ll all go back to normal. That’s all I want to do at the moment.“

"You want to…oh,” Vanessa’s face looked downcast, and Brooke instantly registered that she’d got the wrong end of the stick.

“No, no, no, not with us! I’m happy for us to still be doing…all this,” Brooke gave Vanessa’s shoulder a squeeze and the other girl relaxed. “This is good. I like it. It’s like an upgraded version of friendship.”

“Right,” Vanessa smiled cheekily, Brooke now able to fully relax.

They finished up their drinks and the rest of the crisps and made their way outside, where it had stopped raining and was now just replaced with cold dampness, puddles on the pavement shining despite the clouds. Brooke’s arm had moved to rest around Vanessa’s waist at her hip, and she didn’t really want to let go. Knowing they were about to leave each other, Vanessa turned and kissed Brooke gently, something almost fragile to it as if she was afraid she’d fracture or break.

Unable to believe it, Brooke asked Vanessa to confirm. “So, uh. You actually like me?”

Vanessa burst out laughing, Brooke feeling as if she was blushing all the way up to her scalp. “Of course I do, you fuckin’ idiot.”

Brooke couldn’t help the dumb smile that spread across her face. The novelty of knowing that would never wear off.

They squeezed each other a goodbye, and Brooke started back to her flat. She suddenly felt the trepidation overtake her, wondering what would happen when she arrived back. Would Yvie be furious at her? She seemed pretty apologetic when Brooke had been shouting at her. Fuck, why did she shout at her? Yvie was her best friend, for fuck’s sake, and things had already been so fragile between them. She’d wanted to make amends, Brooke had known that, and then she’d overreacted and ruined it all. Brooke felt the tears sting at her eyes as she quickened her pace. What if Nina hated her now too? Kind, sweet Nina who had never done anything malicious to anyone in her life. Scarlet had been at the flat too. She probably thought Brooke was a complete and utter dick for the way she’d acted. Jesus Christ, everyone probably hated her. What was the point of going home? Everyone was talking about her on that separate group chat, probably wondering how they could avoid her for the rest of the year. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

By the time Brooke got home and climbed the numerous stairs up to her flat she was hyperventilating so badly that her chest felt tight and constricted, as if a snake had wrapped itself around her ribcage. She immediately stumbled through to the kitchen, filled up the nearest glass (she didn’t care if it was clean or dirty), reached up to her shelf on the cupboard and ripped into the little packet of beta blockers she kept there. She took one every morning but sometimes life called for two per day, even though the packet urged her not to and her anxiety often spiked after the second one anyway as she panicked and worried about heart failure.

Brooke took deep breaths and steadied herself against the kitchen counter. The small living room was empty and Brooke knew exactly where Yvie and Nina would be. She wondered if Scarlet was still here, embarrassment overtaking her and threatening to ruin the tiny, fragile, tissue-paper level of calm she’d managed to return herself to. She took two more deep breaths, pressing her feet deeply into the soles of her shoes and trying to ground herself as much as she could. She had to face the girls at some stage. They were her flatmates, for fuck’s sake.

So Brooke tentatively slipped off her trainers, still absolutely soaked from the rain and the various puddles she’d stepped in on the way home. She knocked on Yvie’s door and waited for the shouts of “come in”- two, not three, she noted. Opening the door, she saw Yvie and Nina tucked up in Yvie’s bed together, both on their phones. They put them down as Brooke came in and smiled- Nina’s was warm and Yvie’s more nervous.

“Hey,” Yvie was the first to speak, Nina opening her arms and Brooke feeling herself flopping down on top of the duvet in the small space between her two flatmates.

“ ’M sorry,” she muttered, the proud side of her hoping that the duvet would conceal most of her apology. Brooke heard Nina tut and felt a body lean over to hug her.

“No, baby, we’re sorry. We’ve been shit friends and shouldn’t have put that pressure on you and Vanessa to do anything. We thought it was just a joke, but it’s your damn potential relationship. We should have thought,” Nina sighed, Brooke immediately consumed with guilt at having ever been angry with her friends.

“I mean, you did still behave like an asshole,” Brooke heard Yvie’s voice, causing her to let out a laugh. Funny cuz it’s true. “But so did we. And we’re sorry.”

Brooke sat up on her elbows and finally faced her friends, her best fucking friends in the world. She realised she was crying again and got annoyed at herself. “Stupid fucking tears.”

“Tears are valid! Crying is valid! Don’t you dare bottle shit up!” Nina chastised her, coming across as more of a mum than ever. Brooke let out a half-sob, half-laugh.

“I should’ve let you guys in, I should’ve talked to you about it. About everything. Maybe you would’ve helped me make sense of the fucking mincemeat that Vanessa’s turned my brain into. I’m so sorry,” Brooke sighed, Yvie opening her arms for a cuddle which she accepted gratefully.

“We’re sorry. You’re sorry. We’re all sorry. Let’s be friends again, bitch, I hate falling out with you,” Yvie pleaded, Brooke squeezing her tight and feeling a soft weight against her as Nina joined in the hug.

“I love you guys so much,” Brooke whispered, Nina and Yvie returning the sentiment and Brooke finally feeling as if something in her life was settled. They stayed cuddled up as Brooke frowned.

“Where’s Scarlet?”

“Went home. She thought we’d need some flat time when you got back.”

“Fuck, Yvie-”

“If you apologise again I’m going to smack you. We’re fine. I also have a fuckton of bolognaise that can’t all fit into the freezer so if you’re really sorry you’ll eat it all,” Yvie deadpanned, then noticed the look of acceptance on Brooke’s face. “Brooke it’s a fucking joke, right, it’s a fucking joke, please don’t gorge yourself on bolognaise trying to prove something.”

Brooke felt a small bubble of laughter escape her mouth, and Nina began chuckling beside her until all three of the friends were laughing in a heap on Yvie’s bed.

“I feel like I’ve missed so much. How is Scarlet? How are you two going?” Brooke asked, staring up at Yvie’s ceiling.

“We’re good. She’s…amazing. She’s funny and dorky and cute and a complete dumbass whilst simultaneously being the most intelligent person I’ve ever met. She’s a fucking kinky bitch though, complete definition of a dark horse,” Yvie let out a small laugh, Nina gasping theatrically.

“Oh my Christ! A match made in heaven if ever there was one.”

“Excuse me, Miss, don’t think you get off easy,” Brooke sat up on her elbow and turned to her. “You and Monet? What’s that all about, you actually got your shit together and told her that you like her?”

“Not exactly,” Nina began to explain, her face already strawberry-red as she spoke about her crush (or maybe girlfriend. Fuck, Brooke had missed a lot). “She took the lead on everything. Told me she’d liked me since we started taking the same modules together this year. Told me I was the most beautiful girl she’d ever met. Basically filling my head with lies.”

“Shut up, you insecure son of a bitch, and accept the love,” Yvie thumped her, Nina giving an exaggerated cry.

“We went for a date the other day. It was so nice, Brooke, she’s a total sweetheart. I can’t believe she actually likes me, of all people,” Nina’s voice grew small, and Brooke felt guilt stab at her stomach. Nina hadn’t had any relationships for as long as Brooke had known her, so of course as she was about to enter into a potential one she’d be doubting herself and wondering and worrying too much. Brooke needed to be there for her.

“Of course she likes you. You’re legitimately the best person I know,” Brooke pouted. “Yvie’s right. Don’t you dare overthink this, bitch. Monet likes you, it’s that simple.”

Nina raised her eyebrows and fixed Brooke with a look of disbelief. “Brooke Lynn Hytes is telling me not to overthink things? Jesus, someone call Trevor McDonald. I want to put this on the News at 10.”

As the girls laughed and Brooke rolled her eyes, Yvie’s phone began to ring. Brooke and Nina listened with interest as she answered, the smile that appeared when she saw who was calling dictating it could only be Scarlet.

“Hey, boo…no, she’s back now…about ten minutes ago. Okay,” a laugh and then Yvie’s face grew red. “Okay…okay, I’ll see you. Okay. Lov- Okay. Bye!”

Brooke and Nina exchanged a look. Brooke knew what she’d heard. Or, almost heard. Nina spoke before her.

“Was that an, um…an L-word that almost got dropped there, Yvelynn Oddly?” she said schemingly, Yvie’s face suddenly appearing as pink as if she’d been smacked.

“What? No? You guys,” Yvie muttered, rolling her eyes and throwing her phone down on the bed. Brooke raised an eyebrow at her.

“Excuse me, I just learned my lesson here. Share shit with your friends. Come on, spill the fucking beans or we’ll start a sweepstake about you.”

“It’s honestly nothing.”

“We want to hear anything! However mediocre,” Nina cried, sitting bolt upright excitedly. Yvie rolled her eyes.

“Fine. I’ll spill the mediocrity and beans,” she sighed, shrugging and pausing before she spoke. “You guys know I love you, because I tell you all the time. I tell all my friends all the time. And I used to tell Scarlet all the time too but now, of course…it means a hell of a lot more.”

“Oh, babe,” Brooke sighed sympathetically. It had never occurred to her before, but she used to do the same with Vanessa, and Vanessa used to tell her all the time too. It was one of the things that used to stab at her heart, a small twist of a knife in her stomach. Since Yvie’s birthday, neither of them had said it to the other. Brooke missed it.

“I keep going to say it when I usually would…at the end of phonecalls…when we say goodbye to each other…when she does something nice for me. And I know all of our other areas of the whole relationship are going fast, like we were already girlfriends and I barely even took her on a date. I’m just cautious, but even though I’m trying hard not to say it, it still threatens to come out at times.”

“There’s a difference between being in love with someone and just loving them,” Nina chimed in thoughtfully.

“No, I know,” Yvie reassured her. “But at the same time, I don’t know what the fuck it feels like to be in love with someone either! It’s never happened to me before. So how the fuck am I supposed to know? Shit, I could be in love with Scarlet and I might not even know.”

Brooke bit her lip, completely understanding where Yvie was coming from. She cast a glance to Nina and felt her stomach tighten. Out of the three of them, none were particularly well-versed in relationships. Yvie had seen a couple of girls over the years and was the queen of one night stands, but nothing had ever come of them. Brooke had dated a couple of guys back in her first year back when she still thought she was bi and then had realised she was 100% lesbian when she’d taken her first girl back from the gay club in town, then after that she’d spent most of her time pining over Vanjie. And Nina was Nina. The girl would have to be waterboarded before she actively made a move on someone. She let out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Nina asked, already smiling. Brooke’s laugh got louder and she let out a faux-scream.

“Bitch! Look at us. We’ve all finally got the girls we like to like us back and none of us knows what the fuck to do about it!”

Yvie and Nina joined in with her laughter, soon growing hysterical as the girls screeched beside her. They were soon interrupted by all three of their phones going off at the same time.

“Vanjie’s been reinstated. Shit, I need to change her nickname,” Yvie smiled, pouncing on her phone. Smiling, Brooke checked her phone.

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline added Vanessa Vanjie Mateo.

Vanessa Vanjie Mateo: Alright hoes

Vanessa Vanjie Mateo: Two things

Yvie Oddly set the nickname for Vanessa Vanjie Mateo to Brooke’s Ford Transit Vanjie.

Okay Then: (shrek voice) OH HELLO THERE

Brooke’s Ford Transit Vanjie: Who’s down for film night at ours tonight

Kim Kardashian-West: ALL OF US!!!

Yvie’s bitch: MEEEEE xxxxxxxxxxxx

Okay Then: Okay then

Brooke’s Ford Transit Vanjie: Second thing

Brooke’s Ford Transit Vanjie: Who had Yvie’s birthday in the sweepstake

“Bitch!! Knew it!!” Yvie laughed, thumping Brooke on the arm, the other girl laughing good-humouredly. She shot a message off to Vanessa.

Brooke: Things went well with Silk and Akeria then? xxx

Vanessa: Silk actually apologised wtf

Vanessa: but yeah they were cute and it went well xxx

Brooke: Good. I’ll come over with the girls later xxx

Vanessa: Staying over?

Brooke’s heart gave a jump.

Brooke: Yes! If you want me to

Vanessa: Always want you to boo xxx

Brooke turned her phone over and listened to Yvie, now stressed and talking about their upcoming exams. In contrast, Brooke hadn’t felt this calm in a long while.

#rpdr fanfiction #not nineteen forever #n19f #ortega #s11 #branjie #scyvie #background ninex #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #yvie oddly #scarlet envy #lesbian au #university au #college au #nina west #akeria davenport #silky nutmeg ganache #plastique tiara

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neverwatchedonepiece · 5 years

Text

594-595: "Formed! Luffy and Law's Pirate Alliance!" and "Capture M! the Pirate Alliance's Operation Launches!"

After seeing what the Strawhats are really like and realising what he’s got himself into, Law has longing visions of the apocalypse.

That look on Law’s face.

You all know the one I’m talking about.

The one that started as a sweatdrop and morphed into a full-blown look of: I deeply regret this but am in way too deep to back out now.

I watched that scene three times. Pure gold.

If You Keep Telling Everyone About Our Plan, Maybe

So I think I misjudged Trafalgar Law.

Maybe.

Still not one-hundred percent certain Law does not have another hidden agenda but... I am about seventy percent on board with the fact he has good intentions. At the moment. Like Robin said, pirate alliances are marked by betrayal, so this could change in future. (But I don’t want it to. I like Law as a good-ish guy.)

Like Nami, I was also was not expecting Luffy to accept so quickly. Maybe at the end of the arc, I thought. Have no idea why I even entertained that daft idea. This is Luffy we’re talking about.

Law sold it as best he could without giving Oda’s entire plot away. “I’m not saying we can beat the Yonko right away. There is a chance, if we do it step by step. What do you say?”

Luffy’s daft but not an idiot. He asked Law to which Yonko he was referring. I’m guessing that was important because I honestly can’t see Luffy going against Shanks unless something really serious puts something between them. I was pretty damned interested in Law’s answer, so when Oda used that favourite trop of his: a sudden howling blizzard carried away Law’s voice, I laughed like a drain and cursed Oda and his teasing ways.

Fine. I get it. I won’t know at least until after this arc.

I also liked Luffy’s reasons for accepting Law’s offer of alliance. One, it sounded like fun. Two, he thought Tra-guy was a good guy. And three, even if he wasn’t, he had his Strawhats, who had spent the last two years training to become stronger (with the implication they could kick Law’s ass if the misbehaved).

This totally won over the Strawhats. They sort of melted into a puddle of giggling, flattered, enraged goo. Law was standing there staring like, “Wtf are these people?”

Still, as a gesture of goodwill, he unshambled all those who were able to be restored to their bodies. I am guessing is because of plot. Chopper and Franky are back to normal (Chopper had to leave with Law for a reconnaissance mission to Caesar’s lab). However, Nami and Sanji are now inhabiting each others’ bodies (because Sanji was not nearby to be restored to his own. I’m guessing you’ve got to be in Law’s Room).

Law was also not keen on the experiment kids. They were a pain. A liability. Forget about them. He’d heard from Caesar they’d been drugged. Chopper and Nami protested. They knew about the drug. They had already decided to take the kids back to their families. Law revealed the World Government have been trying to turn people into giants for hundreds of years. Why? In order to manufacture soldiers to increase their military might.

Apparently, Caesar wants to perfect the process first and outsmart Vegapunk and the World Government. (Okay, so Caesar is not still working for the WG after all. Is he that wealthy he can fund himself or is another faction bankrolling him? Maybe the Yonko Law is talking about defeating?)

Law was still unconvinced helping the kids was a good idea. “Are you willing to stay here alone?” he asked Nami.

Luffy, the Best Captain, jumped in. He would not leave anyone behind. If Nami and Chopper wanted to help the kids, he was fine with that. Sanji felt responsible for the Samurai Guy too. So Luffy would stay with them.

Usopp was so funny here. He leaned over Luffy’s shoulder and gave Law some Strawhat Context. “You think an alliance is a cooperative relationship just for some common goal, don’t you?”

Um... yes, Law answered.

Ha. Well Luffy’s idea was different. It’s like being friends to him. And if Law was thinking of taking control, it would not be that easy. Once Luffy feels sure about something He Will Not Back Down. His selfishness, Usopp said, was as formidable as a Yonko. (”That must he hard,” Luffy said. xD)

At that point, I think Law reached his Strawhat Saturation Point. These people were like freaking aliens to him. But whatever. He’d agreed to an alliance. So he laid out his plan of action. While the rest of the Strawhats took care of the samurai, he would go research the drug behind Caesar’s back. He needed the Strawhats’ doctor. Chopper was strapped to his hat. xD

Then, when that was clearly undignified, his back.

Before Law left, he issued a warning. Caesar wanted the Strawhats and the G-5 Unit dead. Until Caesar gets what he wants, he will not stop attacking. If any info leaked about him being on Punk Hazard, Caesar would lose his perfect hiding place. This is high stakes stuff for Caesar. He will fight tooth-and-nail to win. Not only that, he is a Logia type Gas Gas Fruit user who owns weapons of mass destruction with a 300 million bounty. Law cautioned anyone who couldn’t use haki to stay away from him.

Useful intel to have, to be honest. Thanks, Law.

And it was thanks to the conversation that I now know Zoro and Sanji can also use Haki. Did I miss that or is that completely new thing?

After that, came the part of the episode that was my Absolute Favourite. I definitely did not see this coming. Before Law left with Chopper, Luffy said, “So we’re gonna kidnap the Master, right?”

“Not for any money,” Law said. “To raise havoc.”

Despite the Strawhats asking, he would not tell them what lay ahead before they even successfully kidnapped Caesar. Focus on the job at hand. He would spill all later. Then said, rather ominously, “When we get Caesar Clown, things will move whether you like it or not.”

Ooooooooooooooh....

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH.

Now this is a juicy nugget of plot. I also do not think this has ever happened in One Piece: defeating the arc villain in order to kidnap him, use him as a catalyst and trigger some nefarious skullduggery in the New World with a view to taken down a Yonko.

Caesar Clown must be really something. I guess if he is an inventor and purveyor of weapons of mass destruction, his services will be in demand within certain sections of the OPverse.

This is cool. I was a bit miffed when I realised this arc would end quickly as it has been great so far. You guys were right. This is an intro arc that seems to lead on to bigger things involving Trafalgar Law’s crazy idea.

Also, I cannot wait for Chopper to lay eyes on Caesar Clown for the first time. Chopper is gonna have to exercise some wicked self-control to not smack him for mistreating those kids. Chopper also asked Law an interesting question: if Law was so strong and could reach Caesar Clown that easily (because Law had just Roomed himself round to the lab’s back door), why could he capture Caesar himself?

Law deflected, as he always does. “I cannot because of a problem I have. That’s why I need help from you guys.”

A problem? Must be a pretty big problem.

And by the way, where are your crew, Law?

I am making myself suspicious again.

I need to just believe in Law, like Luffy does. Because the arc villain is making a move.

And That Move Is Called Smiley

Smiley.

Cannot get over that. xD

Caesar, you crack me up.

He’s probably one of those deranged scientist types who give their hellbeast creations adorable names. Everyone flees from the tentacled abomination that is Mr Binky Sparkle-Pants. Everyone knows Candy Smoochy Schmoo will devour your soul.

This one is called Smiley. Smiley is a sentient, hill-sized conglomeration of incredibly toxic waste left over from the chemical explosion four years ago. Caesar gleefully explain to Monet that when he escaped custody and returned to Punk Hazard about three years back, he did not purify the island of the poison gas (*the* only good deed he had left to his name!) I mean, why would anyone do such a wasteful thing? All that poison lying around? That H2S gas he had invented that killed everything on the island in second? It’s Free Real Estate, right?

What he did was (probably) use his Gas Gas Fruit (thanks for the confirmation, Law!) to gather all the leftover poison gas and compress it into a monster, which he secured in a vault on the burning half of the island.

And he called it Smiley. xD

I guess Caesar has a sense of humour?

At any rate, this squamous behemoth was unleashed by the gang of unfortunate fodders who were trying to break into a vault at the end of the last episode. I knew they’d meet a sticky end. I just didn’t know how sticky.

They tried to call their wonderful Master to report they were being killed by a poisonous monster.

Sympathy? In MY Laboratory? Get the FUCK OUTTA HERE!

But Caesar was in the lab, heard the DDM, was all like, “ugggggh, so needy!” He told his main minion not to pick up the call. Why? The fodders would just be screaming “Help, a monster is killing us! Save us!” How annoying, right?

And you know what else was annoying? The amount of visitors. Ugh. So many. Caesar seems to work in euphemism a lot because all he said was, “You can stop gathering test subjects now. We have enough.”

I’m guessing that’s code for “these freeloading Strawhats and Marines have overstayed their welcome. Time to die!” He had a jolly good lol to himself while Monet studied quietly in a corner (she must have learned to block out the cackling by now or she would get zero work done).

Caesar’s knowledge of how to manipulate human nature was summed up when he said, “People tend to forget tragedies in no time!” That is harsh but true. He knew sooner or later what happened in Punk Hazard would be forgotten by the majority, leaving him free to practice his wicked experiments with impunity.

He really is a piece of work, eh?

As of now, Smiley is currently oozing towards Caesar’s lab. Zoro, Sanji and Brook saw it approach on the horizon.

They found Kinemon, by the way! His torso fell into the lake and sank like a rock because he’s a Devil Fruit user. Because of that, the rest of his parts became super weak and he almost froze to death. If Zoro hadn’t found him, he’d be dead. At least he’s finally grateful for the Strawhats’ help. I wonder what he’ll say when he finds out they’re working with Law, the guy who slashed him up? I wonder what Zoro, Sanji and Brook will say when they find out Luffy’s working with Law?”

It won’t be a secret for long, they way Luffy’s going on. xD

NO, WE DON’T HAVE A SECRET PLAN AT ALL. WHY DO YOU ASK?

While Law was sneaking round the back door with Chopper and Smoker and his crew were battling to seize Caesar’s ship, Luffy had a Big Idea. Back at the camp, he whispered to Robin and Franky, the Strawhats who would go with him. (I’m assuming Nami and Usopp are guarding the kids and waiting for Zoro, Sanji Brook and Samurai to return.)

Smoker was having a tough time. Fighting in someone else’s body was difficult. Poor Tashigi kept turning to smoke at random and couldn’t turn back. (You know what? If this wasn’t such a serious situation, it’d be well fun to have a go in a Devil Fruit User’s body!)

Then Luffy arrived with a literal BANG! He cannoned into the snow right at the front door of Caesar’s Lab and roared, “SHOW YOURSELF, MASTER! WE WILL KICK YOUR ASS AND KIDNAP YOU!”

I swear the impact from Law’s facepalm was heard as far as Raftel.

Trip Advisor Review: Punk Hazard

“Arrived on island. Was welcomed warmly by hotel proprietor. Accommodation was clinically austere but the bar was well-stocked. Woke up one morning and I was a centaur. Not pleased. Proprietor maintains he has no recollection of how this happened. Only other guest remains tight-lipped. Refused refund. One star. Would not recommend.”

#one piece #neverwatchedonepiece #nwop #never watched one piece #trafalgar law #caesar clown #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #sanji #usopp #nami #tony tony chopper #nico robin #franky #brook #punk hazard #vice admiral smoker #captain tashigi

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chungledown-bimothy · 5 years

Text

Trust Me: Chapter 6

I’m so sorry it too so long- for some reason, I just couldn’t get into Virgil’s head for this one. Thank you so much for your patience <3

Chapter 1 Chapter 5 AO3 Chapter 7

Warnings: swearing, mention of death/funerals, brief mention of homophobia (it’s as fluffy as this one’s gonna get, y’all)

Word Count: 2023

Tag List: @ccecode @emo-sanders-sides-loving-unicorn @ren-allen @ilovemygaydad @bloodropsblog @funsizedgremlin @raygelkitty @roxiefox23 @thomasthesandersengine @spookyingarbageisland @band-be-boss-blog

Thursday

Virgil stared at the empty conversation for what felt the millionth time, trying to find the right words. Fuck it. I need to just do this. Like a bandaid. I can do this.

[To:Patton]- Hey Patton, this is Virgil.

[To:Patton]- From your coffee shop the other day.

Fuck, that was bad. Well, there's nothing I can do about it now. He opened the case files he brought home to review, trying to distract himself, but gave up after about 10 minutes and started watching The Office for the fifteenth time. He was three episodes in when his phone went off.

[Patton]- Hi!! I hope this doesn't come across as pushy or anything, but do you wanna go out sometime? I'm really bad at communicating through text, and I think you're really cute

[Virgil<3]- it totally doesn't. Yeah, I'd love to meet up. What are you up to on Saturday?

[Patton]- Going to the de Young with you, hopefully? I have a membership

[Virgil<3]- That would be amazing!! I've been dying to go see the Monet exhibition.

[Patton]- Me too! I'll pick you up at noon on Saturday, then?

[Virgil<3]- Sounds great!

[Patton]- I can't wait! I guess I don't need to ask where you live lol

[Virgil<3]- haha yeah I guess not. I'll see you then :)

Virgil put his phone down and took a deep breath. Holy SHIT am I really doing this?? Patton's so cute, but I'm a mess. But it's Monet at the de Young, and Patton seems so… good. Like, too good for me. God, I'm really good fuck this up, aren't I?

[Patton]- Take a deep breath; it's gonna be great. There's absolutely no need to worry :)

… Holy fuck I'm so gay. Patton had attached a selfie with a huge smile and a thumbs-up.

Saturday

Taking a deep breath, Virgil looked in the mirror and adjusted his tie. He didn't even wear ties to work, but a date to see Monet's works in person deserved better than his everyday work attire, let alone his usual weekend outfit of a t-shirt, an old hoodie with purple plaid patches, and black jeans. He tried not to think about the last time he wore the black tie, but he couldn't shut the train of thought off fast enough.

It's raining. Of course it is. He loved the rain so much; it's only fitting it's raining when we have to say goodbye.

"He'd hate that we're all here being sad, you know. He'd say we were being lame and that he deserves something more fabulous. He'd also be pissed that I'm talking to you, not him, at an event about him, even if it is his funeral. So, Remy, you dramatic, self-absorbed ass, I'm standing in front of all of these people, and I'm gonna talk to just you.

First of all, I'm more sorry than I can say. You told me he would be willing to break his rules, and I didn't trust you. You were always right, and I hated that. If you were here, you'd tell me to shut the fuck up and say that I know I love you. I absolutely and completely love you. And that's why it kills me that I couldn't protect you. You weren't just my partner, you were my best friend, and I failed at the absolute minimum. God, Remy, you deserved so much better. I'm sorry I couldn't be better.

But fuck this melancholy shit. You told me once that you wanted to put the 'fun' in funeral. So, everybody," Virgil continued, addressing the crowd again, "as Remy said so often, 'let's cut the shit and drink'. Scandals downtown is ready and waiting for us to fuck shit up in his memory."

Coming back to the present, Virgil wiped the tear from his cheek and rolled up the sleeves of his purple dress shirt. Patton's gonna be here any minute; I need to finish getting ready.

Before he knew it, there was a knock at the door. He took a deep breath and was glad he did when he opened the door and briefly forgot how to breathe, because standing there on his doorstep was 5 feet and 7 inches of the most beauty Virgil had ever seen in one person. Patton wasn't the most conventionally attractive- whereas society as a whole prized hard lines and defined muscles, Patton was soft lines and the kindest eyes imaginable. Virgil couldn't explain why, but Patton exuded kindness and trustworthiness. He didn't realize he'd been staring until the sound of a throat clearing startled him.

"Oh, um, I was staring, huh?" Virgil asked, embarrassed.

Patton nodded, blushing. "Yeah, but I was too. You look really good."

"Thanks, you do too, but I guess you already knew that I feel that way." In his efforts to avoid eye contact, Virgil noticed the pin on Patton's shirt- simply reading 'they/them'. "Are those your pronouns?"

"Yeah, they are." Patton's posture immediately shifted- standing straighter and narrowing their eyes. "Is that a problem?"

"Not in the slightest." He smiled when Patton visibly relaxed, their megawatt smile returning in full force.

"Wonderful! Now, let's go see some art almost as beautiful as you. I'll drive." Patton winked and started walking. It took Virgil a second to remember how to breathe, let alone move, but he quickly caught up once he did. He stopped short again when he saw their car- a classic black VW Beetle in perfect condition.

"Holy shit, Patton. Your car is gorgeous."

"Oh my goodness thank you! She was my dad's."

"Like I said, it's- she's beautiful. Maintenance must be a nightmare, though. What year is she?"

"1955. Maintenance isn't that bad- my dad taught me how to keep her in shape after I came out in high school. He thought getting my hands dirty would turn me into 'a real man'."

"Shit, I'm sorry, Pat." They shrugged.

"It's no big deal. Joke's on him- I'm still queer as hell, but now I can keep this beauty in good shape. Get in! She's old, but she won't bite!" Laughing, Virgil got in the car, and they left for the museum.

"Monet was a founder of Impressionism as a counterpoint to Realism, which had been popular for about ten years before Impressionism started developing and twenty-four years before the term Impressionism was first used.

Realism grew in popularity with the rise of photography; artists wanted their works to look objectively real, and strove to remove emotion. They largely focused on the working class and depicted life as it was, without any sentimentality or heroism.

Monet never really bought into that. His early works works, though chronologically in the Realism era, were always painted with intense emotion, and he rarely painted people. He began playing with the concept that what we understand of reality is just our perception, and he was far from alone in those thoughts. Marx held that belief as well, going further and saying that all we have in our minds are ideologies, not facts or truths, and they act as filters, shaping everything we experience.

Rousseau died two centuries before the rise of Impressionism, but he summed up the philosophy well when he said 'I feel before I think'. Monet's paintings, while indistinct and 'messy' up close, evoke strong emotion only when one looks at the piece as a whole. We feel it before we get close enough to see and think about what it's really made of." Strictly speaking, Virgil didn't need to be speaking softly into Patton's ear with his hand on their waist, standing so closely behind them that he could feel the movement of their chest with each breath. Neither of them, however, would ever dream of complaining.

Patton reluctantly stepped out of Virgil's embrace and turned to look at him in awe. "That's incredible, Virgil. How do you know all that?"

"Oh, um, thanks. I really like art philosophy, and Monet is my favorite artist. I dunno, something about making order out of chaos is really calming."

"I feel the same way! Life is sorta like a puzzle, or Monet's brush strokes. Each one, taken individually, doesn't make much sense. We all feel and experience things like that, things that are confusing or sometimes even scary. But as we keep going, we find more and more pieces, and things make more and more sense. Feeling like a half-missing puzzle set is okay, as long as we remember the big picture. If any of that makes sense." Patton chuckled nervously, scratching behind his ear.

"No, it made perfect sense. What would you say the big picture is?"

"Well, I'd say it's doing as much good as possible. Whether it's big things, like being a doctor, firefighter, or teacher, like my brother, or small things, like putting a smile on someone's face with a pun or a good cup of coffee. It's our duty as people to make the world around us a better place, however we can."

"That's a really beautiful way of looking at things, Patton." Virgil gave them a small smile. He started to say more, but he was interrupted by the growling of his stomach. "Oh, shit. I was so nervous this morning, I forgot to eat. Wanna go to the cafe and get lunch? My treat, since you still haven't let me pay you back for the coffee."

"I told you, it was a gift! And don't think for a second that I didn't notice that you tipped almost triple what you would have paid if I had charged you." Their smirk was only slightly lessened by the fact that they had to tilt their head back slightly to make eye contact.

"You got me there, but I'm still buying. No, stop that- no amount of puppy dog eyes can change my mind."

"Well, you can't blame a guy for trying." Patton shrugged. "Alright, let's go get some food. You're already almost alarmingly skinny- if we don't get some food in you, you might disappear altogether." Patton started walking backwards towards the cafe, not breaking eye contact.

"Hey! I'm a perfectly normal weight for my height." Virgil started walking too, shaking his head.

"Which is what, 6'3? You need to eat more than the average person, not less. Skipping meals isn't good for you, kiddo."

"I know that. You're just really cute, and I got nervous," he admitted, blushing.

"Flattery will get you everywhere. Now come on, let's eat." They winked before turning around and skipping away. Virgil followed, completely smitten.

------------------------------

"Mr. Dean, a minute?" Logan called after his least favorite student. It was almost 7 pm- students on campus at this hour outside of football season was unheard of, and the last game of the season was weeks ago.

"Greetings and salutations, Mr. Reed. It's JD, though. Mr. Dean is my father." He sauntered to Logan, disdain clear on his face. Logan couldn't be sure if it was towards himself, Mr. Dean, or both.

"Yes, erm, JD, what are you doing on campus so late? Your attendance record in my class alone indicates a disinclination towards being here during school hours, let alone so late."

"That's just the thing, Mr. Reed. No one wants me to be here now."

"Ah, I see. A contrarian. It's not safe to be out here alone, however. The sun set hours ago, and there's a killer on the loose, if the news is to be believed. Come with me, I'll drive you home."

"Thanks, sir, but I'm fine. I'm a fighter, you see. Let the bastard come after me- it'll be the last mistake he ever makes."

"Save the bravado for your peers. I will not take no for an answer- if anything happened to you, it would be on my conscience. My car is in the parking lot. Go." Logan commanded.

"If you insist." He gave a mocking bow before turning away from Logan and walking to the car. If he turned back around, he would have seen a cold, malicious smile spread across his teacher's face. He didn't turn around.

#sanders sides #moxiety #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fan fiction #sanders sides fanfiction #my writing #trust me

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padfootagain · 5 years

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Jenna’s Birthday Special

It's @madamrogers's birthday today! HAPPY BIRTHDAY JENNA!

I reckon that there's nothing I do best than writing, so here is a little cute something for you! And I made you a moodboard too, cause why not ;) Happy birthday my friend, I hope you have a wonderful year ahead of you!

I make reference to some songs, I would advise you to listen to them while you read this :D (I've put the links towards the right song on spotify). Also, at one point, you will need to listen to the song 'Octobre', by Francis Cabrel, that's the melody I imagine for that particular scene… you will know which scene I am talking about when you get there.

I mentioned the name of your country (no more details than that), as it is mentioned on your blog, I thought you wouldn't mind. But tell me if you do, and I'll delete it.

I really hope you like this little gift of mine.

Word Count : 2000

He had never travelled so far away.

Ryan literally spent his life travelling. He jumped on trains and walked for hours on deserted roads. He had crossed the U.S several times, carrying everything he owned in his backpack and guitar. But if he were honest with himself, he had to admit that he had never thought that he would ever cross any boundary. If the borders traced on a map between states didn't mean anything to him, he had always remained between these two long dark lines that separated his country from others. Now that he came to think of it, he wondered why. He had made a passport for this trip he had taken now, he had organized everything… he could have crossed these dark lines to explore new lands and new towns and new roads. Thousands of new tunes were awaiting him there, and yet he had never dared to go so far.

But after thinking about it for a minute, the answer seemed so simple.

He had always been afraid to go so far.

His lifestyle as a musician travelling on the roads required from him to deal with the unknown. Nothing in his life was planned. And yet, in a way, everything was planned.

He would jump on a train and enjoy the ride until he arrived to the next city. He would stay there for a few days, especially if he had friends there. He would find a nice spot where he could play the guitar, and then, once he felt like it was time and that he had gained a few bucks, he would jump on yet another train and travel to the next town…

These roads, he had travelled across them countless times. But crossing the border of a new country meant meeting another way of living. Another way to travel. And somehow, he was afraid of this unknown, even if his life was surrounded by unplanned things.

But now there he was, walking out of the airport in a foreign country where people didn't even speak his language.

Ryan had never dared to cross the borders of his country before, but for you, he had crossed an entire ocean.

He picked up his backpack and walked further through the large hall. Under the words wrote in a language that was entirely foreign to him, he was relieved to find the English translations. He walked through the airport and towards the bus area in the rhythm of Sting singing Englishman in New York that played through the halls. He had booked a ticket to reach your hometown. But the cold of January hit him so hard that his breath got caught in his throat. He zipped his warm coat and wrapped his woollen scarf tightly around his neck. He also put on his gloves, and hurried towards the buses lined up along the wall of the airport. Snow covered the road, and under his boots, the icy ground cracked loudly. Through the screen of smoke that formed before him at every breath he blew, he looked for the right bus, and also took a few seconds to enjoy the beauty in the contrast of the snowy ground so white and the clear sky so blue. A small smile formed on his lips at the sight.

Ryan finally found the right bus and climbed in, relieved to find that the driver spoke English. He sat on the seat right behind the driver, keeping his bag and guitar with him, and waited to take off his scarf and gloves to get warmer. While he waited for the bus to leave, he checked once more that the gift he had bought for you was in his backpack. The paper in which he had wrapped it had suffered a little during the trip, but he was sure that you would forgive him. The gift in itself seemed still safe and sound: he had bought for you a very beautiful blue notebook, themed with paintings of Monet. He hoped you would like it.

As he put the gift back in his bag, he finally realized that he was about to see you, and his small smile turned into a bright one at the thought. He hadn't seen you in months… not since your trip to the U.S.

That was when you had met. He had helped you through Washington D.C as you were lost, and you had become friends as you bumped into each other several times the following days. Friendship had quickly turned into something more though…

During the few weeks you had spent in his country, you had both slowly fallen for each other, but only too soon, you had flown across the ocean and back to Finland. And for months, this ocean had separated the two of you…

He didn't have a home, so letters were out of the question to keep in touch, and calls could easily cost a little fortune when thousands of miles separated the two people calling. Emails sounded more manageable to him.

You had thus started to write each other emails on a daily basis. Although, these emails looked more like letters than traditional emails. And you both enjoyed the charm in this style of writing.

Entire conversations were shared this way, and you told him everything that happened to you, and he told you everything that happened to him. In his habit of looking for a place to stay, and a place to play, and a way to leave a city was added the need to find a computer. He couldn't imagine spending a day without reading any news from you. Only once did you skip a day and didn't answer to his previous message, and Ryan had spent the entire night worrying sick about you. He had imagined the worst scenarios, and had even looked for ways to reach Finland.

If the emails soothed this painful feeling that you both felt as you were apart, it didn't make it disappear. And Ryan couldn't wait to see you again.

Your birthday was the perfect excuse to make the trip. For months he had saved every cent he could to pay for a plane ticket that would take him to you.

His eyes closed for a few seconds, tired of the long flight he had just walked out of. Before him, the driver had turned on the radio, and the calm melody of Don McLean's Vincent reached his ears. He softly hummed to the tune while he opened his eyes again and settled his gaze on the beautiful landscapes, fields and trees covered by a white blanket of snow, sometimes tainted with water that had taken the colour of the bright blue sky. You hadn't lied when you had described your country as beautiful. And from the inside of the bus, Ryan admired the gorgeous landscapes displayed before him.

At every second that passed by, he could feel that he was coming closer to you, and a warm feeling grew in his heart, a strange mix of excitement and apprehension mingling with joy.

Finally, he arrived to his destination and walked out of the bus and into the cold street. He unfolded the map of the area he had bought, and walked through the town in search for a flower shop. He reckoned that you would like the attention.

He quite easily found one, and searched for your favourite flowers. He picked up some roses and gerberas, and asked for a bouquet to be made with them. And satisfied with his new gift, he walked outside again.

He realized quickly though, right when he reached the end of the street, that he had forgotten his map in the shop. He guessed he had put it down to pay for the flowers. He turned around and walked back on his steps to pick it up again, but he froze as he reached the door…

Through the glass, he could see… you.

You were standing there, in the middle of the shop, alone. You were smiling, bending down to breathe the sweet scent of roses.

Behind him, a car stopped, and through the open window, Renée Fleming's voice filled the air through the melody of You'll Never Know.

And as he stood there, in the cold, watching you, music bathing the scene… tears slowly rose to his eyes.

He had missed you so much…

He stared at you for a while, motionless, as if time itself had been frozen so that perfect moment could endure, at least for a little while longer. Eventually though, he shook himself out of his reverie, and rested his hand on the doorknob. But he didn't open the door.

He had imagined this scene a thousand times in his head. What he would do, what he would say once he finally met you again.

But now that the moment was finally upon him, his mind was completely blank. What could he say?

He had never been that good with words, or at least, not in conversations. He was a quiet man, except when he sang…

He took a step back, and put down his flowers and his backpack, taking his guitar.

And he did what he was best at. The sound of his guitar replaced Renée Fleming's tune as the car started again and drove away.

Soft notes flying through the air… and his voice soon started to play as well, another instrument he mastered perfectly. He had no doubt that you would recognize him.

He had written this song while he waited to see you again. After he had booked his tickets and was certain that all the paperwork was ready. Once he was certain that he would see you again, although he was afraid that time had carried him out of your thoughts and heart…

He found that it fitted the moment rather well.

It is so soft, the way your memory brushes me

A mere breeze blowing through the branches of a tree

Like a whisper breathed late at night

Once the world is bathed by starlight

I wonder if you still think of me

The fog is lazy today

As it covers the road ahead

No matter which city I travel to

The only place I long to see is you

And I wonder if you still think of me

The snow by now is everywhere

And I imagine the snowflakes caught in your hair

The snowmen look happy

Even if you're not with me

There is an entire ocean between your hand and mine

But we watch the same sun in twilight

It is so soft, the way your voice rings

Joy is the only sound it brings

So many miles to cross to hear it again

I should get on my way then

Before you stop thinking of me

The day bends in the horizon

But no matter if my chains are made of iron

I will break them to see

If you're still thinking of me

There is an entire ocean between your hand and mine

But we watch the same sun in twilight

And perhaps you have forgotten me

But I promise till the day I die I will keep

The memory of how soft it has been

To have a place in your reverie

And perhaps one day you will think of me

There is an entire ocean between your hand and mine

But we watch the same sun in twilight

As the last string stopped vibrating, he finally looked up to find you there, standing by the door. Your eyes round and filled with tears, an aghast but happy look painted all over your features.

Without looking away, he picked up his flowers, and handed them to you, this charming and yet shy smile of his that you loved so much curving up his lips.

"Happy birthday, Jenna."

#jenna birthday special #happy birthday sweetheart #I love you

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badluckcllub · 5 years

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verse | marvel & dc ch | stevie brewin, bucky barnes

will i ever go back to this au? idk! but this sure is the beginning of it. also, it’s an unfinished chapter so ignore the abrupt ending. lmao.

“Enough! Outta the ring the both of you.” The referee’s voice rings out loudly across the cheering crowd surrounding the ring. The two fighters break apart reluctantly, still sneering at one another before stalking off and disappearing into the large group of people in the underground club.

Coloured lights pulse from above, putting on a miniature light-show that rivals ones put on by still-touring glam rock bands from the eighties. Music thumps against the walls, loud bass pulsing with the lights in a hypnotic rhythm that keeps those not interested in the fights dancing.

Stevie stands on a balcony above the makeshift ring, leaning forward against the railing as her eyes sweep across the crowd. A smile grin flits across her lips seen only in the moments when the lights flash upon her figure. When she first started this fighting ring she never thought it’d move from the courtyard behind her favourite dive bar, but she somehow managed to work her way up into monetizing the whole damn thing.

She’s so fucking lucky. Without it she wouldn’t be able to go through her doctoral program without winding up in a bone-crushing amount of debt. This entire operation is funding her schooling, and thank fuck for the accountants she has on hand that keep the IRS from looking too closely at her.

The reverie ends swiftly, however, when a tap on her shoulder interrupts the train of thought.

“‘Scuse me. Are you Stevie?”

Stevie turns, startled — awfully jumpy for someone who prides herself on her situational awareness. Talk about embarrassing.

The stranger isn’t much taller than her, but he gives off a presence imposing enough to negate his shorter-than-most stature. It’s enough to make her stand up a little straighter.

“Uh, yeah. That’s me.”

“Great. I want in on a fight.”

She blinks — once, twice, then forces herself to give this guy a proper look. He looks like he could give her best fighter a run for their money, and the haunted look in his eyes is enough to send a chill up her spine. She doesn’t need to ask to know that he’s been through some shit and needs an outlet. She’s seen people like him before, just … never to this extent.

“It’d be stupid of me to ask if you’ve ever fought before, huh?”

The guy gives her the ghost of a smirk. “Yeah. It would.”

She clears her throat, then sticks her hand out for a shake. “Figured.” His hand clasps tightly around hers, a no-fucking-nonsense shake. Fucking hell, this guy could probably pack a hell of a punch. The dollar signs are already greedily floating in her vision. “You got a name, dude?”

There’s a pause that lingers for a moment too long before he says, “—-Bucky.”

“Bucky. Cool name. Alright, Bucky. You want in tonight? I got a spot open that you could fill.”

He shrugs, eyes flitting down to raucous crowd surrounding the ring. “Yeah.”

“A man of few words, huh?” She grins a little, then hollers down to the referee, pointing out the newcomer in lieu of using words that wouldn’t really be heard over the music. “Head on down, dude. Let’s see what you got.”

He turns without much more than a nod, and something in Stevie’s gut tells her this guy is going to kill it down there.

And he does.

The guy — Bucky — steps into the ring, rolls up his sleeves, and just about crushes his opponent.

It doesn’t take more than a couple well placed hits, a couple to the ribs, one that Stevie just knows lands on the guy’s kidney, and a solid hook to his jaw that makes her cringe. She’s pretty sure that dude’s jaw is shattered.

The poor guy is left bleeding and bruised in the middle of the ring, carried off by a few pitying onlookers. It’s been a long time since a fight as left Stevie speechless, and she trades a shocked look with the referee. It takes her a good minute after the fight to get her feet fucking moving to talk to this Bucky guy.

“Hey. Hey! Bucky!” She chases after him through the crowd, grabbing his arm to catch his attention. He spares her a look over his shoulder, a little bit of blood smeared down his chin. The normally chatty owner of this establishment is still a little tongue-tied. “You, uh… You’re really, really fucking good.” Stevie clears her throat. “You lookin’ for a little cash, man? ‘Cause, uh, you’re gonna bring in good money if you can keep fightin’ like that.”

Bucky looks like he’s giving her the once over now, and her stomach flips nervously. Stevie isn’t normally so nervous or afraid that she’s going to be turned down, so she quickly adds, “Like real good money. Cross my heart, hope to die.”

Bucky gives her a gruff laugh, pushing the mess of tangled hair from his face. “Yeah. I guess I could use with a little cash.”

(It won’t be until much later on that she realizes just how much he needed the money.)

Her face lights up, an eager smile spreading across her lips, and she nods back to her office. “If y’got a minute you can sign the paperwork now.” When he gives her a quizzical look she continues, “I know this is some illegal shit, but I wanna run the business right, at least.”

That seems to ease him up a little, and with a gesture of a hand with bloodied knuckles he allows her to lead the way.

The office itself is minimalistic in design — stark white walls, succulents adorning the desk, a few prints framing the walls. The bookshelf is filled with full binders, stuffed to the brim with present contracts and contracts from years gone past. Stevie fishes out the most recent binder, relatively new and flips it open on her desk before dropping into her chair, sighing in relief as if she had been on her feet all day.

(Truth is, she was in a couple fights earlier that night herself. The fact that she’s a got enhanced strength definitely plays a part in why she’s so eerily good, but it’s a secret only known to a few people close to her. Sometimes she feigns at being weaker than her opponents just to keep the ruse going.)

“Alright, alright. Lemme see here.” She flips to the end of the binder, pulls out a contact with a few blanks for Bucky to fill in his name, the date, and his signature. She slides it across the desk with a pen and a wide smile on her lips. “Alright. Read over this, sign all the blanks, and we’ll be good to go. After that anytime you want to fight just call me up and I can find somethin’ for you. I do most of the scheduling around here.”

“How long have y’been doin’ this?” Bucky asks as he meticulously scans over the contract.

“Mmm. Four, five years now, I think. I mean, it hasn’t always been this fuckin’… grand. I started this entire thing in the back of an after-hours bar, then word got around and well….” Stevie trails off, gesturing vaguely with her hands and a proud glint in her eyes. “Speaking of—“ She leans forward, elbows resting on the scattered papers across her desk. “—how’d you find out about this place?”

Bucky fills in the last of the blanks with a near indecipherable scrawl before handing the sheet back. “Same way I guess everyone else did.” He leans back in the chair, one ankle resting across his knee. “Word of mouth.”

He’s not all that talkative of a guy, but Stevie isn’t surprised or all that put off by it. Nobody here is really all that interested in telling their story, so she accepts it for what it is.

#writing*#verse | unnamed marvel & dc #oc | stevie brewin #ch | bucky barnes

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nic-and-annie-in-france · 5 years

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Paris Vignettes

I found it pretty hard to write about our time in Paris because the city is so present in the American collective imagination. Paris means romance and sophistication. Everyone already knows about the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, and the Louvre. What can I say about the place that hasn’t already been said? Not much, which is why I’ve chosen to write more about the little moments than the big monuments. These are the small things that happened on our Paris trip that will likely never be advertised in a travel brochure.

We left home on a sunny Saturday afternoon. As we rode the bus through the town to the train station, I realized it had been ages since I had seen the town in full sunlight like this. I couldn’t stop staring out the window. Even though our town is not what I’d call picturesque, it looked so beautiful with people walking around outside and every factory and apartment building illuminated.

We waited on a bench about an hour at the station for the train to arrive. To pass the time, I eavesdropped on the family seated near us, and learned that they were from the Paris area and were returning home from a ski vacation. The little girl in the family, maybe three or four years old, had left her sunglasses in their driver’s car, and the mom was calling the driver to ask about the sunglasses. After she hung up, she told the little girl that they wouldn’t be able to get her sunglasses back before the train arrived, so they would have to go back home without them. The mom’s work acquaintance, however, was coming to this area in the following week, so she told her that the coworker could probably bring the sunglasses back with her next week. The little girl sounded disappointed. “But I don’t want to go home without my sunglasses…could we call the police and get them to bring my sunglasses?” By the time we boarded the train, I was highly invested in this little girl and the fate of her sunglasses, but since it was all happening in French, Nicolas was unaware of the drama. As soon as we were on the train and out of earshot, I told him the whole story. We laughed. We cried. We hoped that one day she and her sunglasses would be reunited.

We checked into our hostel in Paris after dark. Our room was several flights of stairs above the ground floor, so after we huffed and puffed our way there, we set our things down and checked out the view. There were some trees in a courtyard nearby that partially obscured our view, but the skyline literally glittered with thousands of tiny lights almost too far away to see. I could tell that the Eiffel Tower wasn’t in our line of sight, but I was eager to look again in the morning and see what else was visible in the daytime. It’s certainly easier to navigate in the daylight, but it’s a lot of fun to see a city for the first time in the dark and then discover it all over again the next morning.

We went to both the Louvre and the Musée d’Orsay, Paris’ two most popular art museums. In terms of time period, the Musée d’Orsay picks up where the Louvre leaves off—the Louvre has art from Antiquity until the 19th century, and the Orsay covers about 60 years of art after that, including most people’s favorite Impressionists. So in terms of collections, comparing the two museums is like comparing apples and oranges. However, I really enjoyed comparing our experiences of the two museums and how the space in each building is used. -- The Louvre is a royal palace that has been repurposed to become a heavily trafficked public building and tourist destination. The oldest part of the building dates from the medieval period, and has been changed and added onto ever since; the iconic glass pyramids in the front are only 30 years old. In terms of the floor plan, it’s pretty typical for a European palace. There are two main wings where you basically travel down a straight line of progressively smaller rooms. As an art museum—and as the world’s most popular art museum—it’s kind of a nightmare. We couldn’t find a single staircase that let us access all five floors. Several times we wanted to leave the right wing and go to the left one, or vice versa. And after studying the map, making a game plan, carrying out the plan, and checking the map again, we realized with frustration and horror that we had never left the first wing at all. After an exhausting day of wandering around through crowds of people, we were lucky to finally find the exit. Don’t get me wrong, it was really cool to see the Mona Lisa and tons of other masterpieces. It was just interesting to see how the choice of layout for the museum had very real physical and emotional implications for us and our trip. -- The Orsay, mercifully, is not an old palace—it’s an old train station. The main entrance area is therefore a giant open room with a rounded glass ceiling and a huge clock. Most of the paintings are held in rooms branching off from this central area, so it’s very easy to orient oneself and to travel to the rooms you want to see most. And this is what one would expect from a train station, where it is important for large crowds of people to be able to get from A to B without much trouble. Our day spent in the Musée d’Orsay was overall much more pleasant and comfortable than our day in the Louvre, not because we liked the art so much better (even though we did) but because the building was better suited to tourists and art.

On one cloudy morning, the first item on the itinerary was walking around the neighborhoods on the banks and islands of the Seine. We wandered down whatever streets looked most interesting. We went to the small park on the point of one of the islands and snapped a few pictures. Later that day in the Musée d’Orsay, we saw a Pissarro painting of the almost exact same view we saw from the point of the island.

We were supposed to only spend a morning in the Musée d’Orsay, but we enjoyed it so much that we ignored our grumbling stomachs and stayed until 4pm. As I think I’ve mentioned before, the French are pretty particular about mealtimes, and lots of restaurants close between 3pm and 7pm. Paris has enough demand from tourists at odd hours that we could have easily found a restaurant open between those hours, but we were just too embarrassed to violate the culture so flagrantly. Instead, we went to a grocery store and bought some pre-made sandwiches, a box of crackers, and two yogurts. We brought our food to the Tuileries garden and ate in a secluded corner, enjoying the unusually pleasant weather, pointing out cute dogs to each other, and daydreaming about what our lives might be like if we lived in Paris.

Europe has a lot of religious art, and we both paid attention in Bible study, so we’ve gotten pretty good at identifying our saints and Bible stories in the paintings and sculptures we see. For example, in a painting of the disciples, Peter is always going to be the one who is balding in a horseshoe pattern, with one tuft of gray hair in the middle of his forehead. John is always going to be the youthful-looking one with no beard and longish auburn hair. In Paris, we decided to make a game of looking at an artwork and guessing the Bible/Church history scene before we looked at the title. It was our own little trivia competition each time we toured an art museum or cathedral. My personal favorite story to spot is Saint Anthony of Padua preaching to the fish, and one of my favorite artworks is this stained-glass representation of the book of Revelation.

One afternoon we headed to the outskirts of the city in order to go to the Musée Marmottan Monet. On our walk to the museum, we passed a horse trailer parked on the side of the road. My Kentucky brain didn’t register that that this was an odd thing to see in Paris, but Nicolas excitedly said, “Chevaux!” when he recognized the word written across the trailer. We rounded a corner, and then we found the chevaux: they were hitched to old-timey carriages parked in the middle of the street, surrounded by people in 19th century period costume. We were told by the man working security at the corner of the street that a TV series was filming there that day. We had to wait for permission to hurry into the museum between takes.

We went to the Eiffel Tower around sunset so that we could see in the daylight and lit up at night. We took a few pictures, then just spent some time looking at it quietly and trying to absorb the moment. A street musician from the US was performing nearby—we were there long enough to hear, of all things, “Santeria” by Sublime and “Wagon Wheel” by Old Crow Medicine Show. Those were probably the last two songs I’d want to hear while trying to appreciate the Eiffel Tower, but in spite of this, and in spite of the selfie sticks and souvenir hawkers, it really was as cool—moving, inspiring, romantic—as people make it out to be.

#annie #travel #tapif #france

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whynotcallitvanda · 6 years

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Rings, Roads and Reunions

Read on AO3 here

Wanda sat at the small, round table in the darkened corner of the brasserie, fingers wrapped around a mug of steaming tea. She enjoyed the steady clink of her rings against the ceramic. It's funny how she never tired of that noise, how even through everything, something so insignificant could make just a little bit happier. No one had ever asked her what sound best described her, the essence of Wanda, but if anyone had, she’d have said the continual tinkle of her hands around a mug of tea.

Why did no one ask that question? It was a good one. Made you think.

Wanda stretched out her fingers, examining the rings on her left hand. It was really a miracle that she'd managed to hang onto them. Lucky they'd found where their personal effects were stored on the Raft—

Lucky.

Wanda blew out a breath and curled her hand up again, shifting on the unsteady wicker chair. She'd lingered here too long. She shouldn't even be in this city. It was far too crowded, too well patrolled, despite the tourists, and of course she knew zero French beyond the few phrases Vision had taught her late one night, before—

Before.

Wanda was on her feet before the thought fully crystallized, dropping a few euros on the table and weaving her way back to the street, ducking her head and shoving her hands in the pockets of her long sweater.

Paris had been fun, but it was time to go. . . after just one more stop.

~o0o~

Paris. City of lights. City of love. The last place Vision wanted to be.

Or the exact place he did.

It was complicated.

Everything was complicated.

Vision sighed, wandering through the cobblestone streets, looking over his shoulder despite his mostly-perfected human disguise. Since the split of the team, since Vision's world had fallen apart, he'd practically begged Mr. Stark to keep him busy, anything to stay out of the shell of the compound.

Since then, he'd been travelling the world, doing whatever Mr. Stark required. Running errands, basically, and—

And keeping an eye out, hoping against hope that he'd catch a glimpse of scarlet, feel the brush of a familiar mind against his.

But Paris was too much.

~o0o~

“Also in that exhibition was Monet’s Boulevard des Capucines, which he painted in 1873,” Vision continued his mini-lecture, templing his fingers together, unable to stop himself from leaning forward towards her.

Wanda was sprawled on the couch across the coffee table from him, lying on her back, hair spilling over the cushions and down off the side. She stared up at the ceiling, but Vision didn't need to see her face to visualize that little quirk of her lips that meant she was both amused and confused by him. “Remind me how we got on the topic of the Impressionists?”

Vision considered. He knew the answer of course, that a conversation about a movie devolved into one about mental illness, and then about tortured artists, and then about art in general. But he'd learned that sometimes Wanda didn't want an actual answer to these kinds of inquiries, especially when they were accompanied by that smirk.

He must have taken too long to formulate a response, however, because Wanda chuckled and pulled herself upright, swinging her legs onto the floor and leaning forward to mimic his own position.

She yawned and endeavored to continue the conversation even though it was clear she was sleepy. “So, where is Cappuccino Boulevard?”

“Le Boulevard des Capucines," Vision corrected gently, “is in Paris, France.”

Wanda brightened immediately, perking up enough for Vision to infer that she had good memories of the city.

“Have you been to Paris, Wanda?”

She deflated, the sparkle that had briefly shone in her eyes dimming. “No,” she admitted lowly, studying her fingers.

Vision's breath hitched. There was an odd pressure in his chest, and it had something to do with the sorrow on Wanda's beautiful face. She was always beautiful, even now, but Vision rarely allowed himself to dwell on it.

As he processed his own strange emotional response—one that under any other circumstances he might have gotten Wanda to interpret for him—the room had fallen silent. He knew he should say something, distract her or ask if she wanted to talk about what was bothering her, but she saved him, again, from having to decide by offering up the information herself.

“It's a cliché, you know. For a little girl to love Paris.” She still wasn't looking at him, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to handle the weight of her gaze in his current emotionally-jumbled state. “At some point nearly every girl wants to go, be swept off her feet, something romantic.” Wanda shrugged off her words like they didn't matter, but the shake in her breath would have betrayed the truth even if Vision hadn't known her better than anyone. Anyone living, at least.

“I always wanted to go,” she continued. “Read all about it. I was a bit of a hopeless romantic, I guess.” She finally met his eyes. “But we didn't have the money before—and then after my parents—Well, there was no way it would have happened. It was the first thing Pietro and I were going to do after we got revenge on Stark.” Her lips twitched again, this time into a wry smirk. “Pietro always thought the romance was silly—it’s just a city, after all—but it represented something more, you know? Finally getting to have dreams again.”

She shook her head, taking a breath and blinking rapidly. “Sorry, Vizh. Didn't mean to—”

“No need to apologize,” Vision interrupted, wincing internally at his rudeness, but Wanda just smiled. “Perhaps—” Vision started, but broke off, suddenly unsure.

“Yes?” Wanda prompted, reaching across the coffee table to brush his hand with her fingertips.

“Perhaps we could visit together someday?” Vision offered, meeting her eyes. “If you want. Of course, I understand if that would be too painful or—”

“I'd like that, Vizh.” Wanda nodded, smiling encouragingly. “Really, I would.”

They shared a grateful silence, taking a moment to simply be, a small part of each of them wishing that nothing would ever change.

~o0o~

Vision forced himself from the memory, glancing up at the blue street sign on the building above his head. Boulevard des Capucines. That night he’d taught her some simple French phrases, but the subject of a trip to Paris never came up again. In all likelihood, she never expected to accompany him here, and was only being polite, considering his feelings even after such a painful admission on her part.

But Paris was irrevocably linked to Wanda in his mind, and being here irritated the edges of that hole he’d felt growing in his chest since she’d forced him through the floor of the compound. It was like he could feel her here on the streets, which was of course ridiculous, but he couldn’t seem to stop the nagging presence.

He shook himself, probably harder than necessary, and continued walking. He needed to finish his errand and get out of the city.

Vision barely made it a block before his sense of Wanda was so strong that he couldn’t continue. He spun wildly, no longer in control of his actions. The Mindstone was burning. Something was happening. He knew she couldn’t be here, knew better than to hope, and yet the pain burning behind his eyes made it too hard to reason. He reached for her blindly. His vision was blurring and ears were ringing. He was tricking himself, he knew it, and yet—

Vision?

Vision stumbled against a small tree, succumbing to the urge to close his eyes and clutch his forehead. It took everything in his power to maintain his disguise, took everything in him to keep from dropping all pretenses and rushing mindlessly towards wherever she was.

“Wanda?” he breathed her name, forcing his eyes open once more.

~o0o~

Wanda knew she should leave. Knew that just because she’d taken a train through Paris on her way to Scotland didn’t mean she had to stop and visit—but, of course, it did.

Natasha would be furious.

Wanda didn’t care. Like her rings, this wasn’t something she’d give up. You could take her name, her hair color, the ability to ever completely relax, but you couldn’t take her. She wouldn’t let it happen.

She needed to see it, to see Paris after all these years, and she needed to see that road, too, the one from Vision’s painting. Even if she still wasn’t sure how to pronounce it and had no earthly clue what the painting looked like. Even if she thought she’d be going with her best friend, instead of completely and utterly alone.

It didn’t matter.

She had to see it.

At first glance, it was just a big street. A pretty, big street. Well shaded. Very Paris looking. Wanda would’ve been underwhelmed, if she’d let herself. But this was Paris, and she was actually here where she’d dreamed about for so long, and nothing was going to keep her from enjoying the moment. A smile came to her lips, the first in a while. People moved around her, but Wanda didn’t care, standing still even if it made her more conspicuous, drinking it in.

Paris.

If only—

Pietro.

Vision.

The names came to her mind one right after the other, surprising her with their intensity. The ache for each was vastly different, but equally strong.

She hadn’t thought that she could ever get as close to anyone as she’d been to Pietro—and she hadn’t, not yet—but she could see herself that close to Vision, in time, if only—

Wanda usually never let herself think of Vision, but she did now, because why the hell not? She was in Paris without him, and she missed him, and it was silly not to let herself feel, just this once.

Her mind cast out for him, an automatic reflex that came from the image of his face, the sound of his voice, of the surprised laughs that only she was able to conjure form his beautiful vermillion lips.

Wanda sighed, about to turn away, when her powers caught on something, snagged on a mind and grabbed hold. She turned, powers pulling her eyes to a tall blond man a ways up the street.

It couldn’t be, and yet—

Vision?

The man—Vision, it had to be, her powers had never been this wrong—stumbled, supporting himself on a tree.

Wanda was moving on reflex again, not considering anything, not the cars barreling down the road she had to cross to get to him, not her fugitive status, or the fact that the man looked decidedly unlike Vision. It didn’t matter.

Until it did.

She stopped a foot from him, the nagging voice in the back of her head, the one that sounded a lot like Natasha, reminding her of all the reasons this was a bad idea. She rocked back on her heels, breathing heavy. He was close enough to touch, but still hadn’t noticed her. She could—

No. She wouldn’t run. That had been pain she’d felt from his mind, and she wouldn’t leave him.

He opened his eyes.

“Vizh,” Wanda whispered. His eyes—so blue, unlike anything she’d ever seen. Her Vision.

His irises whirled for a second, that part of his appearance apparently unchanged, and then he cleared his throat. “Uh. Well. I guess we made it to Paris after all.”

Wanda laughed, and fell forward to wrap her arms around his neck.

~o0o~

#Scarlet Vision #my writing #fanfiction #Wanda Maximoff #Vision #Also posted on AO3 #Will be adding more chapters/parts #hope you like it!

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usatrip2022 · 2 years

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Date 16/02-21/02 NYC

We land in Newark airport just outside of NYC and make our way swiftly into the city to Joe’s Pub - a cool music venue with an intimate 200 seater jazz bar. I am absolutely delirious to see food chains that I haven’t seen since moving to Australia - Pret A Manger, Pain Quotidien, WAGAMAMMA!!!! I couldn’t believe it! Simple things… simple minds.

Loren Allred is doing two concerts here this year and was the reason we flew to NY. She is the original singer of Never Enough from the Greatest Showman and just an all round incredible musician. She has been touring with Buble, David Foster and had people like Kelly Clarkson, Nicole Sherzinger and so on cover her hit song.

The venue was super intimate so we were sitting right underneath her and her backing singers. She did covers from Adele, Mariah and other gay icons as well as an opera duet with a hysterically funny drag queen who was classically trained in opera at Juilliard. Having started her career a little later, she is releasing her first EP of original music “Late Bloomer” - it was AMAZING, so heartfelt and varied and there was no limit to her vocal facility and colour. She concluded with the much anticipated Greatest Showman hit and then broke down in tears at the reception of the audience. Jarrod and I haven’t felt this moved by a performance classical or not in such a long time. It was really really special. We felt compelled to fan girl hard on her afterwards and get a photo.

The next few days found us getting lost in and around Manhattan as well as a visit to the Flute Centre of New York to try out some instruments, since I haven’t played in about a year! We walked around Times Square, Empire States Building, Central Park, Radio City, Rockefeller, made some friends in an Irish Pub who were plying us with baby Guinness shots, visited some stunning architecure, toy shops, you name it. NY is so impressive, and SO FAST. People were at times quite rude and abrasive, which I guess showed how out of touch we are post COVID with the hustle and bustle. NY feels like nothing has happened with COVID compared to Australia. Impressively, there are covid testing vans on every corner all offering free rapid and PCR tests as well as masks.

We spent Saturday night at a queer party in Brooklyn at “House of Yes”. It was a psychedelic bar with good music and acrobatic shows throughout the night. Sadly this place which was once a queer space welcoming any and all has transitioned into a breeding ground for a breed of predatory straight men to prey on women whose guards are down. They were as obvious as a zit on a nose, but it still didn’t stop them in abundance gawping over the ladies.

The next day I went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art - not just to see the displays but to get out of the crazy wind chill and snow squalls NY was having that day. The Met is crazy beautiful and so classy. Marble pillars and simple colorings, the first floor is all antiquities, sculptures and statues dating back some 6000 years ago. Upstairs focuses on paintings from the Renaissance up to a separate section for modern art. Cezanne, Van Gough, Rembrant, Matisse, Monet - they’re all there. You could spend months in this place. They also had a jazz brass band in the foyer. On our weather escaping culture binge we also went to the national library where the Day After Tomorrow Movie was filmed!

That being said, we managed to get into a free exhibition of 250 of the libraries most precious artifacts. Locks of Beethovens hair, Charles Dickens’ table and chair, pages from the Declaration of Independence, Mozart’s original 25th Symphony manuscript, the first ever print of Shakespeare’s complete plays, Bronte’s writing pad, Virginia Wolfe’s walking stick that she tragically drowned herself with, the original toys that inspired Winnie the Pooh and so much more.

A trip to NY wouldn’t be complete without a dabble in the west end and with that we managed to get cheap tickets to see the Lion King. It was the most ridiculous spectacle - with all the animals as life-size puppets, incredible staging effects, a super tight pit orchestra and great music. Sassy Hyenas, an Afrikaans speaking baboon and so many pyrotechnics - we thoroughly enjoyed it.

Speaking of the animal kingdom a fuck-off sized stampede of yaks (similar to those who killed Mufassa) were headed right for us - I thought they had been quietly grazing lately. I had maybe or maybe not booked all of our subsequent flights for 3 days too early given all of the changes around the bad weather. We were due to go to Orlando, Florida next to visit Wizarding World and Jarrod’s sister. What was more is this weekend was the Presidential weekend and so new tickets were at a Yak premium.

Along with this, there seemed to be Yaks herds overseas. Jane (one of our close friends from UK) was flying to LA to see us via London. Most flights with BA were cancelled or delayed and their staff were far from helpful. As she got to London, they had overbooked her flight and taken her off it - twice. With 40 mins to spare she managed to get her way by having a well timed and deliberate meltdown at the help desk. Fifteen yaks later she amazingly managed to get on the flight only thanks to it being delayed by one hour itself. Go Jane!

A Megabus to Philadelphia now for one day to then fly back to the west coast for the last leg of our trip.

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cameronpcrker · 6 years

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It’s not too late to apologize || Self Para

who: Cameron, his parents (Richard and Charlotte) & his brother (Ethan) 

location: Cameron’s home in Malibu, California.

date: Tuesday, September 11th, 2018. 

summary: Cameron’s parents unexpectedly visit him and his dad finally apologizes.

When Monet broke up with him, he knew that he’s lost everything he loved so much but it was only now that he was really alone in the house when he began to realize how bad it was. It started with him dreading to come home after work since living in the house didn’t feel the same anymore. The house felt empty without her around, there wasn’t a single day since the break up he didn’t miss her.

Today was supposed to be a regular day consisting mostly of work but when he returned home from the studio and saw his parents with his brother in tow waiting for him in front of his house, he couldn’t help that it incited an unsettling feeling. His mind immediately went to all the things he could’ve possibly forget, maybe there was a family meeting that had been set and he’d been expected to attend, but why would they scold him for not being there if they kicked him out of the family not too long ago? Yeah, that wouldn’t make sense. And they wouldn’t care if he got them something for one of their birthdays for the same reason either. If his dad was gonna go for another round of his stupid game he liked to play then he’d be alone, his brother and his mother have never really been part of it. So, why were they all waiting for him? There’s only one way to find out, he thought and finally found the courage to approach them.

“Hey.“ Cam could’ve gone with the typical ‘What are you doing here?‘ question people usually tend to ask if someone unexpectedly visited them but it was rude and even though they did him wrong he still got manners and thought it was necessary to show some respect. His parents exchanged a quick glance, they were obviously relieved he didn’t seem too pissed about them showing up unannounced. They all greeted him, his father finally asking him if they could go inside, telling him that they were here to talk. Cam only nodded, not quite sure what exactly they were up to but he still opened the door and waited for them to come inside before he closed it again and they all settled in the living room.

“Can I get you something to drink or..anything else?“ Glancing at his parents and his brother who gave him a reassuring smile, he waited for them to decide on something and then went into the kitchen to get the water they asked for. He sat down opposite of them, all three of them looking at him and waiting for him to say something as if he was the one who has arranged that family meeting. “So…What did you want to talk about?“ He watched how his mother grabbed his dad’s hand and looked up again to meet his dads eyes, confusion clearly written all over Cameron’s face. What the heck was going on?

A quick glance towards his brother only confused him more when he noticed that he was still wearing the same smile on his face as he did two minutes ago.

“Cameron..We’re here because I want to apologize for what I’ve done. I overreacted.“

Did his dad really apologize right now? Was he dreaming?

“I know we have both made some mistakes in the past and that lead to us having several fall outs.“ His dad added, waiting for his response.

Cameron only nodded, wanting him to keep talking since he wasn’t sure where he was going. Fall outs, that was definitely putting it nicely. Wasn’t he going to bring up the family business this time?

“I tried to force you into doing something you always told me you didn’t want. You were honest with me and I should’ve appreciate it instead of trying to make you change your mind. I’m sorry I did this to you.“ There it was. He said sorry. And he brought up the family business but it wasn’t in a threatening way this time and honestly? It caught him off guard. Cameron just stared at him as if he wasn’t real. There was no way this was actually happening.

“I’m aware that me finally coming through, trying to be the dad I should’ve been since the day you were born isn’t going to change everything immediately but…“ there was a pause, “I was hoping you would maybe…allow us to be part of your life again? I took care of the restraining orders - again, I’m sorry for putting you through that. Your brother made us realize how wrong we’ve been all those years and I think knowing that my sons weren’t taking over our family business turned me into a bitter man but I found someone who’s going to run the business now that I’ve retired and that along with what your brother said finally opened my eyes.“ Richard finally said.

Cam kept staring at his dad, not really capable to react in any other way to what he’s just heard. How did his brother convince him that Richard’s whole behavior wasn’t okay? He’s tried that so many times and it never actually walked. Talking to a wall would’ve been more effective.

He tried to secretly pinch himself but a stifled laugh distracted him from his train of thoughts. The source of the laugh was his brother who was now covering his mouth, the amused look still visible on his face as Cameron finally looked at him and then back at his dad. “I’m not sure what to say…This is all a bit much. I mean, you have been doing everything to make me feel shitty about my life choices pretty much since I was 14, Richard,” Cameron knew it’d hurt him if he called him by his name but he didn’t give a damn right now, “Do you have any idea how it feels like to be treated the way you treat me? And now you show up here and, yes, I appreciate how you decided to apologize now because it’s better than if you never did but I can’t just forget everything you’ve done and move on only because you’ve said ‘I’m sorry’,” Cameron let out a sigh. They all fell silent, his dad looked guilty and hurt and he just couldn’t help but have a little sympathy.

“Are you staying in LA?“ Cam then asked and his family nodded. “Let’s meet for brunch tomorrow and I’ll take the remaining hours until then to process everything you just said, yeah?“ He noticed how his dad’s face expressed relief and Cam assumed that he must’ve been glad he didn’t go into detail on all the things he’s been put through by him. “I guess, I’m gonna see you tomorrow then. I’ll send you the address of the restaurant.” Getting up from the couch he looked at his family not quite sure how to say goodbye but at least they understood that it was time to leave as they all got up as well.

Once his family left, Cameron walked back to the living room. His phone screen lit up a second later with a new message from his brother. Sorry, would’ve warned you but I thought it’d be better if you didn’t know beforehand. Cam typed a quick reply, assuring his brother that he was okay and then went upstairs, getting ready for bed. He knew his thoughts would keep him up all night and he wouldn’t really be catching any sleep, but if that meant it’d lead to him and his family finally starting to fix things then it’d be worth it.

#┕ ˚☆┊self para #forgot to post this before my hiatus lol

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feymorgaina · 3 years

Link

Q: When did you start streaming and why?

A: My first stream was on December 11, 2019, the same day I signed up on Twitch. It was a short test stream from my PlayStation 4.

The PlayStation 4 always had this "Broadcast" feature. At the time I first got the PlayStation 4, I had other in real life pursuits (if you've been on my blog since those days, you'll know that was taekwondo. I'd still like to get back to taekwondo, but we'll see). By December 2019, however, I had moved to a different country (big life change, I know, but one I very much looked forward to) and after spending just over two years mostly at home studying Dutch (yes, I moved to the Netherlands), I felt ready to try something different. I've been on the internet for years (pre-Facebook and pre-MySpace) and have always been interested in and willing to try new forms of social media. Broadcasting (a.k.a. "streaming") was different and I felt it was time to try something a bit more interactive (albeit, more public too) than just blogging, Tweeting, using mobile apps, and whatever else I used in the past (I had stopped using Facebook by this time, though I've started using it again mostly to help promote my Twitch channel).

There I was one day just taking a break from studying so much. From about a year before moving and for two years after moving, I barely touched the PS4. I needed a break and there were games I had on the backlog (I still have a backlog :) ) and there was that "Broadcast" feature still staring at me. I set up my Twitch account that day and once I figured out how to link the PlayStation to my Twitch channel, I did a short test stream. It was for about half an hour. The stream was never saved though (I didn't know I needed to turn that option on) and which game I first streamed will for now remain a mystery for my Twitch viewers (although you can find the stats online for that stream, it streamed to the wrong category accidentally - it's a PlayStation 4 thing).

Q: Why did you continue to stream?

A: It's like what it says on the About... part of my Twitch channel. "Watch me do the things I love and more", but also "Streaming is sharing; 'sharing is caring'". This is just who I am, I like to share the things I like and love. It's like that when I go out to eat dinner with people. I want to order them the food I like and love 'cause I want to share it. Although, there's also this perspective: if the person doesn't like the same food, that's fine with me too. That just means there's more of the stuff I love just for me. ;)

I also figured Twitch's interactive chatting could be a great way for me to practice Dutch (and other languages). Again, if you've been a reader of my blog for a while now, you'd know I've been learning Dutch for a while since before I moved to the Netherlands. After about a month or so on Twitch, I checked and found out there was a Duolingo category. I've been wanting to make language learning videos for a while now, but I didn't want to just make YouTube videos. Recording myself practicing speaking Dutch is a good way for me to judge how I'm doing and I could just do that by recording videos and uploading to YouTube, however, the big appeal for me about doing a Twitch stream is the interactive chatting for the languages. My chat is a multilingual chat even if some days my brain goes on cooldown and I can't even Engl-ish. :D

Of course, I like to meet people on Twitch. Twitch is social media, and that's what I like about social media. I've met some good people on there already. If I really feel a rapport with some people, it'd be nice to meet them in real life. Maybe even have a gaming night where we can sit, chill, be ourselves (not our Twitch selves, I mean), and have fun (maybe even practice talking in different languages too).

Q: Twitch is a monetization platform. Aren't you also trying to make money on there?

A: I think everyone would love to make money just doing the things they like and love. So, sure. Of course, I'm trying to make some money on Twitch as well, but it's not my biggest motivating factor for streaming on Twitch. I just like getting on Twitch and feeling like maybe I'm making a small difference somehow. Maybe someone sees me on there when they're having a bad day and it makes them feel better. Or maybe just knowing that there's always something to watch will make someone feel better about life. Who knows? All I know is the not knowing who I'll meet on Twitch is what keeps me going.

I guess that's easy for me to say. I'm at a point in my life where not everything is great but things feel relatively stable although my residence situation isn't permanent and I no longer have fuzzy-headed "meownsters" (a.k.a. cats) running around (they both died after we moved here; and yes, I brought my cats with me when I moved - I'd never leave them behind). As I mentioned earlier, I would love to get back to taekwondo again and I did do some taekwondo training streams on Twitch. Sadly, I need a bigger living space than I currently have or I need to rent space or buy some other space I could use. Nate, my boyfriend and common-law partner, has been very supportive of my die-hard "work to live" not "live to work" personality. In the past, I worked to make ends meet and tried to "live to work". It wasn't a great life, although I was trying my best. I even had a job as a law clerk which I loved but circumstances out of my control and my boss' control changed that. I felt like life was really trying to tell me something. I was doing things wrong. Not that it's wrong for people to work. It was wrong for me - that whole "rat race". This was about the time I met Nate. After that, he supported my decision (in fact, he encouraged it) to just focus on my taekwondo training. Without his help, I'm not sure I would've been able to continue with the training because of the training fees. Now I'm on Twitch and it feels natural to me (the sharing part, I mean, I don't think I'm the most entertaining or interactive person on Twitch - I'm more of a "get things done" person than "super chatty all the time" person) like I should've been doing something like this all along. It would eventually be nice to make some money on there so I could contribute to the living expenses Nate and I have. Although with Nate, I know this isn't necessary, it's just how I feel about it.

Q: You mentioned games (it's Twitch, so obviously), languages, and taekwondo. What else do you stream on Twitch? And do you have plans for other content?

A: I've also done a few cooking streams. I've been a bit busy looking for a new home to move to, but when I get a chance to I'll try to do another cooking stream sometime. Before the coronavirus lockdowns happened, I intended to do streams outside in the city. I moved to Amsterdam and it really is a great city. It's one of my cities now. :D I'm originally from Toronto, Canada and I've been to New York City before which just felt like a bigger version of Toronto so I felt at home there in a way. Amsterdam is a bit different than both, but in a way I like and need - needed. I love this city so far. So it's one of my cities - those cities being Toronto, Amsterdam, and New York City. Don't mess with any of my cities. I'll send my NinjaBots after you. (Just jokes from my Twitch channel.) Anyway, yes. I plan to do streams out in the city. I'm not sure how that's going to work. We'll see. I'm just not confident we're not heading into The Corona Years - Year 3.

Q: What's your streaming philosophy? How do you view Twitch as a social media platform?

A: This is what I said on my Twitter: "A Twitch stream is the equivalent of an open house party in real life where the channel is the streamer's Twitch home. As streamers, we need to remember that like an open house party, the streams are public and we should conduct ourselves accordingly. (1/2)" (https://twitter.com/feyMorgaina/status/1427760936446840832) "(2/2) Viewers should also remember that when visiting someone's Twitch channel (home), you should obey the rules of that channel and always keep in mind that you may be removed from the premises (timed out) and deemed persona non grata (banned)!" (https://twitter.com/feyMorgaina/status/1427761130257195018). That basically sums up how I view Twitch. I also keep that in mind when I visit other Twitch channels.

As for my streaming philosophy, it's always been simple. I'm awake, I'm dressed, I'm doing something interesting (well, interesting to me) that I want to share, let's turn on the mic and camera. Though at first for the games, I didn't really want to use a camera (Nate convinced me to try it) and sometimes I still don't use a camera. I have days when I'm tired and feeling lazy, but I still want to hammer through more of a game. It's just much easier for me to concentrate on the game if I'm relaxed and not worried about how I look on camera. In keeping with that philosophy of being "awake and dressed, let's turn on the mic and camera", it also means that I like to be able to stream from wherever whenever. I stream from a variety of devices/machines including my mobile phone, Chromebook, the PS4, and the PS5. I feel that if I rely only on my one laptop or that one PC tower to stream, then I'm going to have days where I'm not going to stream 'cause I have to go set up on that laptop or PC tower.

Q: Is that why your streams look... simple?

A: If you mean that I don't have tons of overlays and sound alerts and such... yes, that is why. I like the simple layout and simple setup. For my language streams, it was starting to take a half hour to get set up. It really cuts into the productive time and not necessarily worth it (in my opinion). My streams are about me and the content. Anything else is just distraction, and I want my viewers to watch the content I'm putting out. The content I'm sharing is stuff I like and want to share and it's part of who I am. For those paying attention and those who are perceptive, they'll see that that's me on there (with or without the camera and mic on - I mostly have the mic on, but late at night I might not) and hopefully they can appreciate that. Plus, I think there's room on Twitch for just being yourself. No gimmicks. Just me and whatever I happen to be doing. When I'm streaming, I'm sharing part of my life. It's real not made up. I am who I am.

This is also why I don't use any special filters on my mic. I have a pop filter attached to the mic, that's it. I like my streams sounding full of life, even if it means those loud European sirens (they are seriously loud, tons louder than in Toronto) and motorists with loud engines are heard on stream (though I have on occasion just muted the mic temporarily). Also, if I stream from my phone while outside I can't do much about filtering the sound. It's going to sound much different than if I was at home with special filters on. For some kind of consistency, I figure let's just leave it alone. Like I said, I'm sharing my life, loud sirens and loud engines included. :D

Q: Do you have issues with privacy? How are you handling that?

A: feyMorgaina is my internet personality and has been for years. Sure, I have my private moments. Things I feel don't need to be shared onstream or even online, but I'm generally a fairly open person even in real life. Though in some real life situations, I may be more reserved. It depends - usually on the people I'm meeting. It's always felt much easier to be more outgoing on the internet. If you're wondering about my real identity, well... luckily, no one's tried to dox me yet. I mostly have to be careful not to dox myself. :D But yes, privacy was something I thought about carefully before deciding to stream. I think if you're real smart, you can probably find me in real life, but I think the average person isn't going to go to that much trouble. I'm certainly not popular enough. Plus, I did mention taekwondo training, right? ;)

Q: What do you do when you're not streaming?

A: Lately, it's been trying to find a new home. Otherwise, I spend time with Nate or just chill and do things I don't stream like read this book I've had on the backburner for ages, watch a movie or TV show, listen to some music. I recently cut my stream schedule back by one day. I've pretty much kept a five days a week stream schedule from the beginning, but now I need a bit of a break. I've been thinking of getting back into blogging again or maybe sitting down and actually working on a short story. When it comes to writing fiction, I get ideas for big stories, like a whole universe/world, but I think I should try something smaller just to see if I can focus enough to do it. I've had an idea for a long time of writing a bunch of short stories for a compilation. Perhaps I just need to sit down and do it already.

~~~~~~

This pretend interview was written by Your Local Twitch Streamer, feyMorgaina. Check out her entity-, human-, and LGBT/QIA+ friendly Twitch channel at https://www.twitch.tv/feymorgaina. (Yes, it's "she/her" 'cause they are the pronouns she's used to and even if she's felt "boyish" in the past and did "boy things" as a kid when she should've been doing "girl things" and didn't feel "girlish" at times, she's never considered herself to be "he/him". "They/them" is acceptable if you don't know feyMorgaina uses "she/her", for example, when she pops into one of your language learning streams and says "Hi" in the language you're learning. Also, she grew up with LGBT+; hence, the LGBT/QIA+. If there's any real difference, she doesn't really know 'cause she thought the + included others with similar experiences and of similar open-mindedness; however the meaning of the + doesn't seem to be generally agreed on anyway, but it doesn't matter as she's always been entity-friendly and let's just go from there. Okay, entity? :) )

#twitch #streamer #games #languages #varietystreamer

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

To New Hytes (Group fic) 2/? - Mac

AN: Again, this entire work would not be possible without my lovely betas Meggie and Grapefruit. You girls keep me young!

Summary: Blair and Kameron find themselves bonding over their respective passions, Brooke loses her cool at Vanessa, and Nina and Monet think they all should just make out.

Blair sat back and admired her work.

Vanjie - or as the young dancer has insisted - Vanessa, looked like a vision in gold. Blair patted herself on the back mentally for the fringe that hung off of her small frame ever so delicately.

“Now I know she said you ain’t performin’ for a few weeks, but thought I’d get your measurements and stuff done heada time.”

Vanessa gave her a winning smile.

“I don’t mind pretty girls like you takin’ my measurements.”

Blair blushed and ducked her head a bit. The young costume designer wasn’t used to getting compliments often, so she tried to ignore how her brain short circuited at the statement.

“What about shoes? You good in a heel?” She tried to change the subject.

Vanessa nodded. “Nothin’ too tall though. Can’t be breaking myself out there.”

Blair laughed lightly and turned to the closet on the far wall. She rifled through a few boxes before coming back with a sensible heel.

“I’m a size six.”

“I know.”

“Who told you?”

“Nobody. I just got a gift for knowin’ people’s sizes I guess.”

“Pretty and smart, huh?”

Blair blushed again. “A dancer and a flirt, huh?” she shot back.

Vanessa laughed, loud and unhinged. It took Blair aback for a moment before she let herself laugh too. It felt freeing in a way.

“Not to rain on your parade or nuthin’, and I appreciate the compliments, but I don’t date dancers.”

“Oh yeah? Too many broken hearts?”

Blair nodded firmly and Vanessa didn’t press the issue.

“Oh well.” Vanessa sighed overdramatically. “Guess I can settle for friends.”

Blair smiled. “Friends it is.”

…

Kameron never imagined she’d end up here.

Maybe she was torturing herself. Being so close to the thing she loved. The thing she still craved like a drug.

It didn’t happen suddenly either. She had been with the company since the beginning. When it was just a thought Brooke tossed out one drunken night.

Brooke, Nina, and Monet had gone over to Kameron’s place with the thought of going out and letting loose, but had ended up on her worn down furniture passing a bottle of wine around in a circle. Nina has been too focused on Monet’s antics to really hear the idea, but Kameron jumped up as soon as she heard it, albeit she jumped up gracelessly and almost fell back on her ass.

She smiled at the memory now. She doubted anyone knew that she was one of the original co-founders of the now acclaimed company. Not that she cared much for the recognition.

She had spearheaded the whole process, looking into spaces to rehearse and business laws. It was a lot of work and long nights. Brooke had been right there with her through it all though. It had been nice to have a friend, a sister almost, supporting her and putting in just as much work.

Nina and Monet had thought they were crazy. Off and running with this idea that was never going to pan out.

They were all fresh out of out of NYU after all. They were baby adults, living off of ramen noodles and Red Bull, but still…No one expected them to make it.

That was when Kameron had the idea. A YouTube channel. They could rent a dance space for a few hours and bang out three to four videos. She and Brooke performed duets and solos, any style they wanted. They had fun. Kameron sometimes would miss those days before their lives got so hectic. When she and Brooke would pass out on a studio floor because they had filmed in one night enough videos to last them a week.

The channel grew slowly, and then not so slowly. Almost overnight they had amassed enough followers and garnered enough views to buy their own studio. It was teeny tiny and run down. It needed a lot of TLC for sure, but it was theirs.

Almost overnight the dance world was looking to them for the next big thing. It was incredibly intimidating, scary even, but Brooke and Kameron were ready.

Nina agreed to stage mom duties as well as marketing, and Monet enthusiastically accepted the offer to take pictures, dusting off her old camera.

It was all starting to come together.

Then it all went wrong.

Kameron quickly pulled herself out of those thoughts. The memory of a too bright stage light still burned her eyes.

“Are you ok?” came a small voice to Kameron’s left.

Kameron had been so lost in thought that she hardly realized she had been sitting on the floor for nearly ten minutes now, back leaning against a large speaker.

Kameron sat up immediately and looked at Blair. The sweet girl was looking at her, concern creeping into the reassuring smile she gave.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Well, your nose is bleeding a bit there.”

Kameron’s hand shot up to touch lightly at her aforementioned affliction. When she pulled her hand away, bright red coated her fingers.

“Come here, darlin’, come sit with me.”

Kameron bit back her reply that this happened all the time, curiosity getting the better of her.

Blair took Kameron’s hand and the older girl surprisingly didn’t jump at the contact.

Blair weaved through the backstage area like she had done it a million times before. Kameron supposed she had. The costume designer rarely made it out on stage, except during rehearsals to solve a fashion emergency, so moving around in the shadows must have been a frequent pastime of hers.

Blair opened the door to her small office space off near the side exit of the theatre. It was cluttered with half-finished garments on every surface and sketches that lined the walls. The mannequins looked passively at the two as they made their way to the stools near the back of rows of costumes.

Blair tilted Kameron’s face up with the pads of her fingers that left sparks in their wake. Kameron looked up at her as the young woman searched for tissues in the crowded workspace.

Kameron let her eyes wander around the office until they fell on a nearly finished sketch hanging out of a notebook on the desk.

“What’s that one? It doesn’t look like any of the girls we have on tour.”

“Oh that’s nothin’.” Blair quickly shoved the paper back in the notebook, but winced at the crinkling sound it made.

She came to stand in front of Kameron, eyes trained on the red liquid still fresh around her nose. Blair dabbed at it hesitantly, almost as if she were scared to hurt Kameron. Kameron’s heart surged at the thought.

Blair studied the area closely, but avoided eye contact. She resolutely kept her eyes trained on the afflicted area, and no higher. It made the tension in the room raise noticeably.

When Blair was satisfied with her work, she sat down in the stool across Kameron, their knees would be touching if Blair hadn’t pulled hers closer to her body, almost unconsciously.

“All better.”

Kameron smiled at her and Blair smiled back. It was a rare moment of silence. Of peace.

They both started laughing at the same time. Breaking the silence and the ice between the senior stage crew member and the costume designer. They must have looked crazy. Sitting and laughing at each other like old friends.

They hardly knew each other, really. If you didn’t count passing greetings in the hallway they were perfect strangers. Still, Kameron hadn’t laughed this hard in a while. It was refreshing and terrifying that this person, this stranger, could bring a part of her she thought she’d lost, to the forefront.

Kameron stuck out her hand. “I’m Kameron, but everyone calls me Kam.”

“Nice to finally meet you, Kameron. I’m Blair.”

“Oh, I know who you are. I’ve seen you around before. Never said ‘hi’ or anything ‘cause most people treat us crew members like we got the plague.”

Blair suddenly looked seriously at her. “I’m sorry for that. Y’all are the reason the whole show is possible, I imagine it’s frustratin’ not havin’ your hard work appreciated.”

“You’re one to talk! The costumes you make, you make from scratch, yeah? All of them original and come from your head. That is a talent that goes underrecognized, I bet.”

Blair blushed and looked down, avoiding eye contact. “Well, yeah, I suppose. But I’m not in it for the recognition. I just love designin’, ya know?” Blair looked up, meeting Kameron’s eye finally. “You ever had that thing you love more than anythin’ else in the world, and nothin’ could ever take you from it. Like even if you tried you couldn’t give it up?”

Kameron nodded. She did have something like that once.

“Show me your favorite design then. Something you wouldn’t give up for anything in the world.”

“Oh, I don’t have a-”

“Don’t give me that. I know you’ve got one. C’mon, I’m sure it’s just as phenomenal as all the other ones, if not more so.” Kameron winked.

Blair blushed and looked away again. Kameron thought she looked even more beautiful with color high on her cheeks.

Blair stood up and turned back to the notebook Kameron had eyed earlier. She opened it up and Kameron saw every page covered in different outfits on the same model. The model girl looked nothing like any of the dancers they had in the company.

As if sensing her question, Blair quickly rambled out, “She isn’t supposed to be anybody in particular! Just a model for the outfits. I don’t know why she keeps popping up in my head, but when she does, I sketch out a costume for her and send her on her way.”

Kameron looked up at her with a goofy smile.

“I’m not crazy! I know I sound it sometimes,” Blair defended herself.

Kameron laughed. “You don’t sound crazy at all. But you are lying to me.”

Blair looked taken aback for a moment before Kameron explained. “She is somebody in particular. Who is she?”

Blair sighed. “You’re good at that, ya know? Readin’ people.”

“I know,” Kameron answered confidently.

Blair laughed but it was with less joy than before. “Her name was Brianna. We dated for almost three years. She danced and I did her costumes.” Kameron nodded along, encouraging Blair to keep going, if she wanted. “We worked well together, ya know? One of those couples that just worked.” Blair took in a breath. “And when it stopped workin’, we just didn’t mention it. We pushed on for the sake of her career, and mine too, but mostly hers.”

“Wait, Brianna Palandrani?”

Blair groaned. “Yup. That’s the one.”

“She married that Giovanni guy right? The heir to that million dollar makeup company?”

“They got married a week after we broke up.”

“You’re kidding! Oh my god Blair, I’m so sorry.”

Blair shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s really not. That’s horrible.”

“Her career was important to her, I always supported that, but then it became more important than me and my feelins.”

“I’m so sorry, Blair. You deserve better.”

“Thank you.”

“I mean it.”

Blair swallowed heavily, the tension was suddenly back, but it felt a bit different this time. “What’s done is done. But I made a promise to myself that day: no more dancers.”

Kameron’s heart sank a bit at that. “So you decided to surround yourself with them every day of your life? Seems a bit counterintuitive.”

“I’m puttin’ my career first. For the first time, I’m being selfish and focusin’ on me. Gettin’ my designs and name out there.”

Kameron smiled wide. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Kameron.”

“You can call me Kam, you know, everyone else does.”

“I like Kameron. It suits you.”

It was Kameron’s turn to blush.

Their little bubble of peace was suddenly broken by a disheveled Yvie slamming the door open, looking around the room wildly.

“Kam. We may need you onstage.”

Kameron looked at her quizzically, but followed after the contortionist. She shot one last apologetic look at Blair before the door shut silently behind her.

…

Never in her life had Brooke yelled at someone like this. Let alone one of her dancers.

“You can’t speak to me like that, I’m your boss!”

“You sure don’t fuckin’ act like it. Gettin all mad and shit from a little comment. Not very professional of you, mami.”

Vanjie was calm, collected, and cocky, which made Brooke lose it even more.

“What the hell would you know about acting professional?”

“Clearly a bit more than you, since I’m not currently screaming at one of my employees.”

Brooke was seeing red. She wanted to scream some more, wanted to put the fear of god into Vanjie. Wanted to wipe that smug fucking smile off her face for good. And suddenly it hit her like a ton of bricks.

It took all her willpower not to smirk triumphantly. She breathed in and out and suddenly, Brooke was composed, calm, yet predatory.

“I’m sorry, Mateo. That was out of line.”

Vanjie’s jaw nearly fell to the floor. Everyone’s jaw nearly fell to the floor. Was Brooke Lynn Hytes, the Head Bitch herself apologizing? To Vanjie of all people?

Vanjie didn’t have a response. Didn’t have any words.

Brooke let herself smirk at that reaction. She wasn’t going to give Vanjie the fight she was aiming for. She was going to give her the opposite. Two can play at Vanjie’s game. And Brooke hated losing.

Brooke turned her head to her other dancers and raised her eyebrows expectantly. “The show must go on, ladies. Up and at ‘em. Let’s go.”

The dancers quickly made their way up the stage, shock still clear on their faces, but the boss was still the boss, apology or not.

Brooke surveyed them for a few minutes before she decided to cool down in her office. She made her way up the stairs but paused when she reached the office door.

She heard muffled voices through the wood.

…

Nina sat in her and Brooke’s shared office. Brooke liked to think of it as her own office, but as Nina did all the heavy lifting, she considered it a shared office.

Monet was sitting in the armchair across from the desk looking through photo after photo from the camera around her neck. Nina watched her. She found herself watching the younger girl a lot these days. Call it mere exposure effect, call it fate, call it the lack of girlfriend, Nina didn’t care. She liked looking at Monet. Liked how the younger girl carried herself. Liked that she put others first.

“Any salvageable ones?”

Monet smiled, still looking down at her camera. “Hmmm, I dunno. You tell me.” She hopped up from her seat and came around the desk to stand next to Nina. She pulled out her memory card and some device Nina still couldn’t figure out, although she was sure Monet had explained it to her many times over. Monet plugged the device into the computer and they waited in a comfortable silence for a few seconds before the pictures popped up.

Nina clicked on the first few. They were of Violet, of course. Monet had admitted once that Violet was her favorite to take pictures of. “She gives so many good angles, and there’s not a flaw to be seen on that bitch.” Nina had rolled her eyes.

Monet pulled up a chair and the two sat side by side scrolling through pictures. Most of them were incredible, as always, a few were silly candids. The one that caught Nina’s eye though was a picture of herself.

It was of her backstage, with the stage lights in front of her. It was clearly edited with a black and white filter over it, but it didn’t look staged. It looked organic. It captured Nina in her favorite spot, just offstage. Supporting her friends and their passion. It looked like some artsy film project from college. She looked majestic. Nina paused on it for a minute.

Monet looked at her worriedly. “Sorry, I-”

“It’s beautiful.” Nina meant it.

Monet shrugged. “I had a lot of beauty to work with.”

Nina could have snapped. Could have acted on the growing attraction they both had been feeling for the past few months. Could have just leaned over right then and kissed Monet senseless.

She didn’t.

Monet broke the suddenly thick tension with a cough. “There’s more.” She reached across and clicked to the next picture. It was another picture of Nina, this time, her face was visible and she was looking off - probably at one of the dancers - she looked so incredibly happy. Monet blushed and clicked through what must have been at least twenty more photos before finally coming to one that wasn’t of Nina.

This one was of Brooke standing with her arms crossed looking up at an equally cocky looking Vanessa.

“I think you captured their dynamic perfectly.”

Monet laughed again, effectively breaking up the tension a little more. “Honestly, I’m waiting for one of them to snap and just start sucking face one day.”

“Me too!”

“No way, you were getting that vibe too! God, I swear they just need to fuck some of that anger out of each other, maybe it would make Brooke less uptight.”

“Hey!” Nina said defensively.

“Oh bitch, we all friends, don’t pretend she hasn’t been a stick in the mud since she became the boss.”

“She’s just stressed,” Nina insisted, less forcefully this time as the smile started to eat away at her face.

“Know how she could get some of that stress out?”

Nina laughed and it echoed around the room.

…

Brooke’s mouth hung open so long she was surely going to swallow a bug.

Did her friends really think she was into Vanjie? Sure the girl was hotter than hell. Sure she met every one of Brooke’s comebacks with an equally snarky one. Sure she had wormed her way into Brooke’s mind from day one. Sure Brooke thought about her all the time.

DidBrooke like Vanjie?

“Fuck.” Brooke was pulled out of her thoughts by the door to her office being swung directly into her face.

“Oops! Sorry, B!” Monet apologized immediately, then she paused. “Wait, how long have you been standing there?”

“Since you two started flirting, so, the whole time.”

Monet blushed but pushed past Brooke and headed for the stairs she had just come up. “Well, you know what they say about eavesdroppers,” she spoke over her shoulder.

“What do they say?” Brooke called after her.

“They only ever hear the truth.”

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