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outzenortiz12 · 2 years

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The Place Am I Able To Find Burberry Replicas

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twentyghosts · 4 years

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My Science Boyfriends Mundane AU Masterlist

I have had some folks kindly ask if I plan to write another mundane AU after finishing Never A Breath You Can Afford To Waste, and the answer is: yeah, probably, eventually? Every time I finish writing one of these things I figure it will probably be my last, because how much more could I possibly have to say about the topic of: “What if these characters we know as superheroes were in love but didn’t have to literally save the world and could just have a normal job or whatever?”

And then every time, a small mouse inside my brain whispers some new idea to me and I end up writing another one. But, in the meantime, here are all the ones I’ve written (since I think it can be hard to dig them out of my AO3 page since there are so many one-shots between the longer stories.)

These all have Bruce Banner/Tony Stark as the primary ship. Perhaps you will enjoy them while I wait for the small mouse inside my brain to start whispering, “Science Boyfriends, but hear me out, what if this time they’re insurance adjusters?” Or whatever. Check the AO3 links for full tags/warnings for each one.

Never A Breath You Can Afford To Waste (professor AU, 102K words) (featuring several lovely illustrations!) After abruptly trying to close down Stark Industries' weapons division, Tony Stark has been ousted as CEO by the company's board of directors and is attempting to cool his heels and rehabilitate his image with a cushy one-year appointment as a guest lecturer in engineering at Shield University. Dr. Bruce Banner also has a one-year appointment at Shield, but his is a lowly adjunct instructor position that doesn't pay enough to meet the high cost of living in Southern California. Bruce is trying desperately to keep anyone from finding out he's living in his car, while Tony is desperately trying to ask Bruce out and can't figure out why he won't accept. But when Bruce gets pneumonia, things change. Bruce has to trust Tony with his secret, Tony has to play nursemaid, and they both have to learn how to take care of each other—and still get their final grades turned in on time.

By Any Other Name (high school student AU/flower shop AU, 12K words) Bruce Banner has a hard enough time keeping his head above water between all of his afterschool jobs and the demanding coursework at Shield Academy, the prestigious boarding school he attends on scholarship. He doesn't have time to spearhead a Valentine's Day flower sale fundraiser, and he definitely doesn't have time to date Tony Stark, no matter what his best friend Nat and her girlfriend Pepper keep telling him.

Snow Falls, Love Rises (Hallmark Channel holiday movie AU, 35K words) Tony Stark's ambitious new plan to convert all of his factories to manufacture solar panels and other green energy technologies causes some concern in the small town of Snow Falls, Ohio: the home of the StarKids toy factory. Despite the toy factory's popularity, the town's Green Party mayor, Bruce Banner, actually supports the solar panel initiative. However, Bruce's deputy mayor Darcy Lewis goes behind his back to invite Tony to be the grand marshal of the town's annual Winter Joy Toy Parade, in an attempt to convince Tony to preserve the toy factory. Tony accepts, secretly hoping to use the event as an opportunity to reconnect with Bruce. Unbeknownst to the citizens of Snow Falls, Bruce and Tony haven't spoken to each other since their boarding school romance came to an abrupt end. Can their love be rekindled, or is it as dead as a string of vintage Christmas tree lights?

Is This Heaven? No, It’s Brooklyn (Good Omens fusion AU, 60K words) cowritten with @godlessondheimite After supervising the wrong child for 11 years, Crowley and Aziraphale discover that the Antichrist is actually in Brooklyn, and they have one month to avert the Apocalypse. Although they still need to figure out a few minor details (like how to stop him, and what name he's using), they book an Airbnb and head across the pond. Meanwhile, Bruce Banner, the last living descendant of Agnes Nutter, is also figuring things out, like how can he best answer his curious mentee, Adam Young’s, many questions about the planet? Why couldn't his ancestor's prophecies have been less nice and more coherent? What role will Stark Industries play in causing the end of the world? If he took down his Airbnb listing months ago, how did two strange Englishmen rent it out? And is he really destined to live the rest of his life with the asshole who plowed him over with a Bentley? The combined forces of science, religion, and coincidences--plus the hyper-competent Pepper Potts--might just be enough to avert the Apocalypse and give everyone a happy ending.

Snap Decisions (high school academic decathlon coach AU, 52K words) High school physics teacher Bruce Banner is feeling adrift after he returns from two years in the Peace Corps and takes a new job as the coach of Infinite Horizons Academy's academic decathlon team. Their rival team, Midtown School of Science and Technology, also acquires a new coach when stressed-out CEO Tony Stark finds himself in need of some community service hours. Despite their schools' rivalry, the two coaches become friendly with one another. When New York's power-hungry Schools Chancellor Thanos abruptly closes half of the city's public schools, the two teams are forced to merge. As things begin to crumble around them, Bruce and Tony get a little help from their students in their struggle to save their schools--and each other.

Sorry If You’re Starstruck (Hollywood AU, 60K words) While recovering from an on-set injury (and the resultant problem with painkillers), billionaire playboy genius filmmaker Tony Stark sets his eyes on his next project--an adaptation of the Gamma Garcia books, a widely beloved young adult sci-fi series. The books' notoriously reclusive author, Bruce Banner, rejects all film offers, but he reluctantly accepts Tony's friendship. Their bond deepens into something more, even as personal and professional setbacks threaten their chance at a Hollywood happy ending.

Judging By The Cover (Library AU, 22K words) (featuring very cool collaged illustrations by @allofthefeelings for @wipbigbang!) Bruce Banner is a generally mild-mannered reference librarian at Malibu Public Library, but he loses his cool when local billionaire philanthropist Tony Stark proposes revitalizing the library's technology, at the cost of its collection of print books. Bruce tries his best to persuade Tony to preserve the library, but accidentally ends up dating him. Despite moral support from his friends and coworkers Darcy, Jane, and Natasha, Bruce isn't quite sure if he's cut out to share his life with Tony Stark on either a personal or professional level. Will children's librarian Thor's malevolent brother Loki ruin the summer reading club? Will the paparazzi ever leave Bruce and Tony alone--and more importantly, will Bruce and Tony ever see eye to eye on the subject of e-readers? And when is everyone going to stop asking Bruce for Fifty Shades of Grey?

#fanfiction #marvel #no powers AU #science bros #science boyfriends #bruce banner/tony stark #i have written a third of a million words on the topic of #what if these superheroes were in love but didn't have to be superheroes #*chin hands*#what if though?#long post

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throughyanderewindow · 4 years

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Nothing Else Matters (1/?)

Pairing: Yandere Bucky Barnes x Yandere Fem!Reader

Warnings: Obsessive Behaviour

A/N: Dipping my toe back into fanfic for the first time in years, we’ll see how it goes. I haven’t seen CA:TFA in a while but the wiki tells me my dates are right

You were 14 years old when you first saw Bucky Barnes, well a picture of him anyway. It was about halfway through the first semester of your first year of high school, the third history class since the teacher started on World War Two.

"I've got something I think you'll all find very interesting." Ms. Dorne addressed the class with even more flair than usual. She was clearly passionate about history in general but now her eyes were practically gleaming with excitement. "We're going to talk about Captain America and the Howling Commandos!"

This was still a few years before the Captain himself dramatically reappeared from the 'dead' so only about a third of the class had any idea what she was talking about. "What kind of name is the Howling Commandos? Sounds like someone made a bet to come up with the stupidest name possible." A boy in the back of the class laughed.

"Well Michael, why don't we turn to page 238 in your textbooks and we can find out?" Ms. Dorne replied, her enthusiasm seeming completely undampened by the boy's teasing.

236...237...238. The minute you flipped to the right page the classroom noise faded from your hearing. Irrelevant, all of it, nothing mattered but him. Directly to the right of what had to be Captain America judging by his outfit was the most beautiful man you'd ever seen. Scanning the page you found the label The Howling Commandos (from left to right) Whats-his-name, The-other-one, Wow-mustache, Walking-flag and there: Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. You quickly copied the name into your notepad before underlining it three times even though you were pretty sure you'd never forget it. You flipped through the textbook engrossing yourself in the precious little it had about the Sergeant.

⦁ Born March 10th 1917

⦁ Went by Bucky

⦁ Grew up alongside and was best friends with Captain America himself

⦁ Joined the 107th Infantry Regiment and later the Howling Commandos

⦁ Died in 1944

Basically nothing and tuning back into the lesson didn't end up giving any new info. You could look it up on the net, you considered, but your parents had been dragging their feet on getting broadband and waiting forever for a Wikipedia article that might not even give you anything was far from appealing. No, your best bet was the good old library, it was definitely faster and would probably have more pictures. Pictures would really be a plus; you could stare at this man all day.

Margot Greene had been a librarian for over 40 years and she had seen some strange things. Of particular note was the day she found a substantial amount of marijuana in a hollowed out copy of 1984. It was a somewhat poetic choice she supposed although she was quite distracted by the fact that someone thought it was acceptable to treat a book that way. All this to say that a young lady, visibly out of breath, almost shouting that she needed "every book you have on James Buchanan Barnes" wasn't worth much more than a raised eyebrow. She had taken similar requests from flustered college students who'd procrastinated on their history papers but from a girl this young? That was a bit new. Margot motioned for the girl to follow as she headed to the relevant shelves.

"Was the Sergeant a relation of yours? Great-Uncle maybe?" Margot tried.

"No, nothing like that," you said "and we're not related...not yet anyway."

Curiouser and curiouser. She considered inquiring further but they had reached their destination, probably for the best. "Everything on this shelf is specifically about The Howling Commandos, all of them should go into James Barnes at least a bit. There's also a considerable amount of books about America's role in the war that will likely talk at least briefly about his unit as a whole. If you'd like to narrow your topic a bit I can point you in the right direction-"

"No need." You interrupted "How many can I take out at a time?"

The next few months saw you throwing yourself completely into research. After a short while you probably knew more than Ms. Dorne did about World War 2 and definitely more about The Howling Commandos. Your end of semester project on them was certainly well received, Ms. Dorne calling it the most passionate and well researched presentation she'd seen in her entire teaching career. After class she asked you to consider looking into jobs in history. Now that was an idea, it would be much more reasonable for someone to immerse themselves in a man from a long lost time if that was their job.

High school passed quickly after that, your grades were never bad but it was clear to anyone who spent any amount of time with you that history was your passion. You were kind to anyone who tried to socialize with you and had many people who would consider themselves your friends but you would be lying if you said you cared about any of them. It would be troublesome if your parents started to worry about you so you had perfected the image of a carefree, popular girl, but the only thing that really moved you was your research.

Be the end of high school you'd built up an impressive collection of vintage 40s style dresses and glowing letters of recommendation to try for colleges with. It was common for people to joke that you belonged in a different time but you were intelligent enough that your fixation on the past was called 'eccentric' instead of 'unhinged'.

You were progressing well towards a bachelor's in history when New York was attacked by a wayward god. The real point of interest though was the man dressed as Captain America, there was almost no chance he was actually Steve Rogers but you allowed yourself a quick moment of hope. After all there was apparently a literal god leading aliens to attack Manhattan; was a man reappearing, unaged, about 70 years after he disappeared that much stranger? You refused to discount the possibility entirely because those many books you'd read on the youth of the Captain agreed:

Where there was Steve Rogers there was Bucky Barnes.

@yanderepeterparker asked for a tag when I pitched this idea on anon earlier

if you want to be tagged for the next part let me know

divider by writeyourmindaway

#Yandere Bucky Barnes #Yandere Bucky Barnes x Reader #yandere bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #Yandere Reader #Yandere Marvel #Yandere Marvel Imagine #Yandere Bucky Barnes x Yandere Reader #yandere marvel x reader #Window Writes Fic #yandere x reader #yandere imagine

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just-random-obsessions · 4 years

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Funny Moments In Avengers 1 (this time with gifs!)

Find Thor 1 here

Find Thor 2 here

In hindsight, I probably shoulda done this either before or right after Thor 1 but I’m horrible at planning so. This post is going to be listing the humor in Avengers 1 and then giving some thoughts afterwards. Post starts underneath the tag list. If you want to be added/removed from the tag list, let me know.

Tag List: @fyrecrafted @lokijiro @nikkoliferous @miskiett @icyxmischief @iamanartichoke @juliabohemian @Official-and-unstable-satan @darthxerik @melodylnoelle @just-another-human-2019 @fandomsfanfictions @mentallydatingahotcelebrity @cateyes315 @burningarbiterheart @imnotacreepijustlikeyou @usedtobegoodfriend96 @alexakeyloveloki

Also, side note but I find it kinda interesting how the humor doesn’t start till several minutes after the film starts when the arms dealer guy is interrogating Natasha.

~ Arms dealer: “you listen carefully” Coulson: *bitch you listen carefully*

~ “I’m working! This idiot is giving me everything” “I don’t give her everything”

~ “Let me put you on hold” *Coulson waiting very quietly as he listens to Natasha’s hold music which consists of bones breaking*

~ “Oh I’ve got Stark. You get the big guy” *Natasha DEFINITELY saying “fuck” in a different language*

~ “Should’ve got paid up front Banner”

~ “Doctor we’re facing a potential global catastrophe” “oh no those I try to actively avoid”

~ “What does Fury want me to do [with the Tesseract]? Swallow it?”

~ “Is there anything you can tell us about the Tesseract? “You should’ve left it in the ocean

~ “Ten bucks says you’re wrong [about being surprised by new things]” *Steve later giving Fury $10*

~ “How does it look?” “Like Christmas but with more me”

~ “Give yourself some credit please. Give yourself 12% of the credit.” “12%?! Of my baby?!” “An argument could be made for 15”

~ “You have reached the life model decoy of Tony Stark. Please leave a message”

~ “Phil! Come in!” “Um his first name is Agent”

~ *I know nothing about the Avengers initiative but I do know that my boyfriend is a dick sometimes*

~ *Pepper saying something racy in Tony’s ear*

~ *Both of the men’s faces*

~ “The guy’s like a Stephen Hawking.” *?????* “He’s like a smart person”

~ “I watched you while you were sleeping” *wow I should’ve stayed in the ice cause this convo went sideways real quick*

~ *Loki straight up sassing the asshole who tortured him like the Queen he is*

~ “Did he ask you to sign his captain America trading cards yet?” Trading cards?” “They’re vintage. He’s very proud”

~ “Really? They want me in a submerged pressurized metal container”

~ “Oh no this is much worse”

~ “I mean, if it’s not too much trouble” “no no it’s fine”

~ *Loki bitch-slapping the guard in the face with the scepter*

~ *cap punches Loki and Loki’s bitch really face”

~ “Kneel!” “Not today!”

~ “Make a move Reindeer Games”

~ “Rock of Ages giving up so easy?”

~ “What’s the matter? Scared of a little lightning?” “I’m not overly fond of what follows?” *?????*

~ “Now there’s that guy”

~ “We need a plan of attack!” “I have a plan. Attack”

~ “You think yourself above them?” “Well yes dumbass”

~ “You listen well brother” “I’m listening”

~ “Doth mother know, you weareth her drapes?”

~ *Loki calmly watching them fight*

~ “Power at 400% capacity” “How bout that?”

~ “Let me know if ‘real power’ wants a magazine or something”

~ “He really grows on you doesn’t he?”

~ “An army. From outer space” *should’ve stayed in the ice cube*

~ “He killed 80 people in 2 days” “He’s adopted”

~ “No hard feelings Point Breaks, you got a mean swing”

~ “That man is playing Galaga! Thought we wouldn’t notice but we did!” *they later show the guy playing Galaga*

~ “How does Fury see these?” “He turns.” “Sounds exhausting”

~ “When did you become an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics?” “Last night”

~ *Tony and Bruce geeking out over science*

~ “Are you nuts?” “Jury’s out”

~ “Is everything a joke to you?” “Funny thing”

~ *Tony supporting Bruce by offering blueberries*

~ “The Stark tower? That big ugly-” *Tony’s face* “building in the sky?”

~ “Followings not really my style?” “And you’re all about style?” “Of the people in this room who is 1) wear a spangly outfit and 2) not of use?”

~ *Ancient powerful deity trying to describe what a Bilgesnipe is to a mortal*

~ “How is this now about me?” “I’m sorry isn’t everything”

~ “Big man in a suit of armor. Take that off and what are you?” “Genius billionaire playboy philanthropist”

~ *Tony and Steve arguing* “Put on the suit” “I’m not afraid to hit an old man”

~ *SHIELD gets attacked* “Put on the suit” “Yep”

~ “Is the sun coming up? Then put it on the left dumbass”

~ “It seems to work on some form of electricity” *I should’ve stayed in the ice*

~ *Tony speaking Science TM* “Speak English!”

~ “Target angry! TARGET ANGRY!!!!!!”

~ “Are you ever not going to fall for that?”

~ *After blasting Loki* “So that’s what it does”

~ *Master assassins who bite each other*

~ *Thor vs Windows episode 2*

~ “Cap hit the lever” “I need a minute here!” “LEVER!!! NOW!!!”

~ “Uh oh I’m fucked”

~ “Are you an alien?” “No” “Well then son, you’ve got a condition”

~ “Hey you guys aren’t authorized to be in he-” “Son, just don’t”

~ “Please tell me you’re going to appeal to my humanity” “Actually I’m planning on threatening”

~ *Tony very calmly “threatening” Loki*

~ “I have an army” “We have a Hulk”

~ “This usually works” “Well performance issues. It’s not uncommon 1 out of 5-” YEET

~ “And there one other person you pissed off. His name is Phil”

~ “Right. Army”

~ *Steve trying to stay safe in the jet as it falls to the ground* *I SHOULD’VE STAYED IN THE FUCKING ICE*

~ “Stark are you seeing this?” “Seeing. Still working on believing”

~ “You think you can hold them off?” “Captain, it would be my genuine pleasure”

~ “Just like Budapest all over again” “You and I remember Budapest very differently”

~ “Why the hell should I take orders from you?” *Cause I’m a fucking badass that why*

~ “Welp. We got his attention. What the hell is step 2?”

~ “So. This all seems horrible”

~ “I’m bringing the party to you” “I don’t see how that’s a party”

~ “That’s my secret cap. I’m always angry” *honestly tho Mood TM*

~ “Better clench up Legolas”

~ ��And Hulk. Smash”

~ *Hawkeye not looking where he’s shooting and still hitting his mark*

~ “Well Thor’s taking down a squadron on 6th” “And he didn’t invite me”

~ *Hulk punching Thor out of the frame*

~ *Steve hiding his whole body behind his shield*

~ “I recognize that the council has made a decision but given that it’s a stupid ass decision I have elected to ignore it”

~ “Nat what the fuck are you doing?”

~ *Loki catches the arrow like a Badass TM but it still blows up in his face anyways cause Hawkeye is also a Badass TM*

~ “I am a god you dull creature and I will not be bullied by a-“ *gets smacked around like a rag doll*

~ “Puny god”

~ *Moans* (NOT LIKE THAT GET Y’ALL’S HEADS OUTTA THE GUTTER!!)

~ “Jarvis. You ever hear the tale of Jonah?” “I wouldn’t consider him a role model”

~ *ITS SHWARMA!!!! In the back ground!*

~ “You ready for another bout?” “What you gettin sleepy?”

~ *Hulk roaring to wake up Tony* “What the hell?”

~ “What just happened? Please tell me nobody kissed me!”

~ “Lets just not come in tomorrow. Let’s just take a day. You ever tried shwarma? There’s a shwarma place three blocks away. I don’t know what it is but I wanna try it.”

~ “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll have that drink now” *Tony smirking*

~ “Superhero’s in New York? Give me a break!”

~ *The Shwarma scene*

~ *Tony realizing he was scared back to life by the man on his left*

~ *Steve nodding off like the senior citizen he is*

~ *Thor eating literally everything on his plate*

~ *Clint and Natasha taking up each others personal space*

Alright some side thoughts. First of all, there’s no humor in the opening scene when Loki is stealing the Tesseract. I find this interesting as I see no reason for there not to be humor. Not complaining, just wondering.

Also, just like with Thor 1 & 2, there’s little to no humor when Thor and Loki are arguing. Whether it’s wen Thor breaks Loki out fo the jet after Stuttgart or when Thor and Loki are fighting on the Stark Tower, there’s barely any humor, if there’s even any humor at all.

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heauxplesslydevoted · 4 years

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Home Again Ch. 1 (Liam x MC)

Summary: AU TRR fic. Four years ago, Kendall fled Cordonia and the love of her life. But when she’s forced to come back, she’s also forced to confront long buried feelings and painful revelations.

A/N: I’ve been toying with this plot for over a year now, and I finally got around to actually working on it. Yay me! As always, let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged, or if I missed you.

Tags: @drakewalker04 @canknot @lapisreviewsstuff @akacalliope @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @ao719 @eadanga @hopefulmoonobject @janezillow @ramseyandrys @aestheticartwriting

~v~

The water. If there was one thing Kendall missed about Cordonia, it was the gorgeous water of the Mediterranean, always warm, always blue. And the sun. There’s just something different about the warmth in her native country.

Stepping off of the private jet, she breathes in the slightly salty air. After almost 5 years of being away, Kendall isn’t sure if she’s happy to be home or not. While she did love Cordonia, she hates that she’s coming back under such awful conditions.

When her mother called yesterday and told her that her father had a heart attack, it was a no brainer for Kendall to drop everything and come back home. Her dad is her own personal Superman, she’s never known him to even have a cold, so hearing that he had a heart attack threw her for a loop.

“Kendall!”

The sound of her name being called makes Kendall whip her head around. She sees Gladys, the daughter to her estate’s majordomo poking her head out of the window of a sleek black Escalade

One of the flight attendants grabs Kendall’s luggage as she rushes towards the car. Flinging the passenger side door open, she leans in and wraps Gladys in a warm hug.

Gladys is taken aback by the huge display of affection, but she hugs Kendall back. “It’s nice to see you too, my lady.”

“What have I told you, it’s just Kendall. You don’t have to be formal with me, Gladys.”

“Very well.” Gladys turns her head and sees the flight attendant putting the last of Kendall’s luggage in the trunk. “Get in, get in.”

“I do not have to be told twice.”

The ride from the airport to the hospital in the capital was mostly silent. Kendall knows the older woman probably has questions for her. They haven’t seen each other in years, and Kendall swore she’d never step foot in this country ever again. But now she’s back. But it’s not like she’s back, back. She’s only here to see her dad through his recovery. Nothing more, nothing less.

“So how was school?” Gladys asks, breaking Kendall out of her thoughts. “Columbia right?”

The mention of her Ivy League alma mater brings a smile to Kendall’s face. “I loved it. New York is amazing, the school is amazing.”

“What are you doing now? My dad mentioned it was something to do with money, but he’s awful at explaining things.”

“Financial analyst.”

“Do you work on that fancy street? The one with all the walls of money?”

“Wall Street,” Kendall corrects with a chuckle. “And yes. But it’s not literally made with walls of money, Gladys. Just lots and lots of tall buildings.”

“Do you have a big office?”

“I have a cubicle. It’s not fancy, but it gets the job done.”

They spend the rest of the car ride in silence. Kendall can’t bring herself to care about the usual court gossip right now, her mind focused solely on her dad.

They make it to the hospital fairly quickly and Kendall barely remembers talking to someone at the nurse’s station before rushing off again to find her father’s hospital room.

She isn’t sure what she was expecting to see, but she definitely didn’t anticipate so many wires and machines. Her father is always so...strong and commanding, but in this moment, Stephen Mason looks incredibly frail. And her poor mother, Victoria, looks equally exhausted, hunched over his bed, their hands clasped together.

Stephen notices her first, and a smile slowly creeps onto his face. “Victoria, did you really call our daughter and tell her to come home?”

“Thank God she did,” Kendall says fully entering the hospital room.

“I’m fine. You could’ve stayed in New York.”

“You had a heart attack, dad.”

Stephen dismisses the statement with a flick of his wrist. “It was minor.”

Kendall ignores him and wraps her arms tightly around him. Tears prick the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over. She tries to relax, breathing in her dad’s scent. He’s alive, he’s here. She can breathe.

Stephen rubs a comforting hand up and down Kendall’s arm. “Don’t cry. I’m fine, sweetheart.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. My doctor said I was very blessed. I didn’t even need surgery.”

Kendall takes a shuddering breath and wipes her eyes. “So what caused this? When are you getting out of here? What’s your treatment plan? Do you have to do physical therapy?”

Stephen chuckles and turns to his wife. “She burns through a lot of topics, really fast. She gets that from you.”

“Oh, hush. For now, he’s going to have to take aspirin daily,” Victoria explains. “And we’re meeting with a nutritionist and physical therapist in order to get a diet and exercise plan.”

“Good.” Kendall visibly relaxes at her mother’s words.

“They hope to discharge me the day after tomorrow,” Stephen adds. “All of my tests and bloodwork have come back good so far.”

“Okay.”

“Why don’t you go home sweetheart?” Stephen suggests. “It’s your first time back home in a really long time, I’m sure there are more interesting things you can be doing other than staring at me.”

“I’m fine.” Kendall can’t leave, not yet. She hasn’t even met his doctor. Despite his words, she won’t feel at ease until she knows without a doubt that he’s going to be okay. His words are comforting, but they aren’t enough.

“I had to send your brother away,” Stephen says. “He was hovering as well, but he actually listened to me and went back to the estate.”

Kendall’s younger brother Zachary was always the more obedient child.

“That’s nice for Zach, but I’m staying with you for now.” Kendall sits down in an uncomfortable chair adjacent to her dad’s bed. “So stop trying to get rid of me.”

“Very well. But no hospital talk. Tell me how work has been.”

The three of them get wrapped up in a pleasant conversation about Kendall’s job, with her sharing funny office anecdotes and complaining about her least favorite coworkers.

She also gets to meet her dad’s cardiologist, Dr. Locke. He’s a nice, older guy and he doesn’t bat an eyelash when she grills him on his credentials and qualifications. Kendall isn’t the first overly concerned family member he’s encountered during his career and she won’t be the last.

“Ms. Mason, your father is doing incredibly well, and I expect him to make a full recovery.”

“About how long is the recovery process?”

“It depends on the patient, but your father is due for a follow-up in a few weeks. We’ll assess his progress then.”

“How long until I can go back to work?” Stephen asks.

“Oh you won’t be touching work for at least 2 months,” Dr. Locke replies seriously. “Work is inherently stressful, Mr. Mason, and stress isn’t good for you.”

“I’ll make sure he relaxes,” Victoria says, affectionately squeezing her husband’s hand. “I promise.”

“Good.” The Doctor checks the time on his watch. “A nurse should be coming in a few minutes to check your vitals, but it’s time for you to get some much needed rest.”

“Only if you kick this one out,” Stephen says, pointing to Kendall. “I won’t be able to relax with her here.”

“Dad! You can’t just kick me out.”

“Go home,” Stephen orders. “Get some rest, call one of your friends, I don’t care, but you cannot stay here and stare at me until I fall asleep.”

Dr. Locke’s eyes shift back and forth between the father and daughter. “Miss, if your father wants you to leave, then you have to leave.”

Kendall glares at her father, shocked that he has the audacity to remove her from his hospital room. “Fine. But I’m coming back tomorrow.”

“I’ll see you then, sweetheart.”

She huffs and collects her belongings. After kissing her parents goodbye, she steps out into the bustling hallway, trying to stay out of the way of the nurses, doctors, and patients. Once she’s out of the way, Kendall grabs her phone and scrolls through the contacts before finding the number she was looking for.

“Kendall, what a pleasant surprise.”

“I’m in town,” Kendall says, cutting straight to the chase. “And I need a drink.”

“Beer garden?”

“I’ll meet you there in an hour.”

~v~

King Liam strides down the hall to his study, a folder full of notes and documents in hand as Bastien trails closely behind. He has a meeting to attend to discuss the budget for Cordonia’s upcoming fiscal year.

Instead of seeing the Chancellor of Finance upon entering his study, he sees his father.

The visit catches him off guard. “Father! What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“Can it wait? I’m supposed to be meeting with Stephen in a few minutes.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Constantine says. He walks over to Liam’s drink cart and surveys the decanters of various alcohols. He settles on a vintage scotch and pours himself a glass. “You won’t be meeting with Stephen today.”

“It’s unlike him to cancel a meeting, especially one as important as this. Is he okay?”

“Victoria called Regina a little while ago. He had a heart attack last night.”

The admission shocks Liam. “Oh my goodness, is he okay? Is he…”

“He’s alive and stable. But he’s going to be out of commission for a while while he’s recovering. I told her that Stephen can take as much time as he needs, we will manage without him.”

Liam nods. His father and Stephen Mason were good friends, and it’s been that way since they were kids. It was part of the reason he and Kendall grew so close. Back when things were good between them, at least.

“Of course, he can take all the time he needs. How is everyone else holding up?”

“Victoria seemed to be in decent spirits when Regina spoke with her. She said Zachary was with them earlier.”

Liam bites the inside of his cheek. His mind can’t help but wander to her. “Any mention of Kendall? Does she know?”

“Victoria didn’t say, nor did Regina ask.” The parents made a point to never bring their children up in conversation. It’s a lot easier to simply pretend the elephant in the room doesn’t exist. “I assume she knows. She adores her father. He adores her as well.”

Liam snorts in derision. “Trust me, I know.”

Constantine quirks an eyebrow up in confusion. Snark isn’t usually his son’s forte, especially over Lady Kendall.

“I told Regina that I’d pass along the news. Please send a gift basket or flowers to their estate, on behalf of the family.”

“Of course.”

Constantine finishes his drink in one large sip. He sighs and puts down his glass. “And buy better scotch.”

Liam rolls his eyes. “Goodbye, Father.”

Constantine chuckles to himself and exits his son’s study. Liam sits down at his desk and rummages through his pockets until he finds his cell phone.

He finds Drake’s contact and clicks it. After a few seconds, his best friend answers.

“What’s up, Li?”

“Nothing. I had a meeting scheduled, but it was cancelled, so I have no plans for the evening.”

“Max and I were thinking about heading to the beer garden for the evening. Are you in?”

“Of course. I’m not turning down an opportunity to drink.”

~v~

“Cheers!” Kendall clinks glasses with Olivia and downs her drink.

The red headed Duchess watches her friend, a bemused look on her face. “Slow down, Mason, that’s your fourth beer.”

“What, are you afraid I’m going to drink you under the table?”

“Of course not. But we don’t need you getting absolutely shitfaced.” Olivia turns to the bartender and hands him a $50 dollar bill. “She’s switching to water.”

“You’re not being fun.”

“One of us has to be practical, you lush.” Olivia takes the bottle of water left by the bartender and slides it towards Kendall. “Drink up.”

Kendall stares at her friend, locked in a silent battle. Both women are stubborn to a fault, neither wanting to back down from a challenge. Olivia glares back, her emerald green eyes fixed squarely on the woman in front of her.

After a long while, Kendall relents and reluctantly opens the bottle of water, taking a tiny sip. “Happy?”

“Ecstatic.” Olivia hops off of her barstool and grabs Kendall by the arm. “Let’s sit somewhere else. We have some talking to do.”

Kendall allows herself to be dragged over to a table tucked in a far corner of the garden. It’s pretty quiet, with most of the patrons wanting to stick towards the middle of the space or close to the bar.

She looks around. It’s been so long since she’s seen the beer garden, and everything looks and feels exactly the same. Flowers still bloom all around, dainty lights hang from every surface of the room, giving off a calm and romantic vibe. Memories of happier times visiting this establishment flood her mind, but she shakes them away.

“How’s your dad doing?” Olivia asks, cutting straight to the chase.

“He’s...okay, I guess. Things could be better, but they could definitely be worse, so,” Kendall shrugs, “I don’t know. He’s alive and coherent. That’s all I can ask for at this point.”

“Your dad is a tough guy. He’ll be just fine.”

“When I got the call last night that he was rushed to the hospital, I panicked,” Kendall says. “My mom chartered a jet for me, thank goodness because there’s no way I would’ve been able to sit in the airport. I was so frazzled, I didn’t even call my job until I saw flying over Spain.”

“Do you like that job of yours?”

“Of course I do.”

“How long are you going to be in Cordonia?”

Kendall shrugs. “For as long as I can milk my job for family medical leave.”

“You should just come back,” Olivia suggests, circling the rim of her glass with a perfectly manicured finger. “Hana’s been in Shanghai for the past month, and you’re the only other girl I like. Well, besides Gabriella.”

“Who’s Gabriella?”

“I forgot you don’t keep up with the court anymore. Gabriella is Maxwell’s girlfriend.”

Kendall’s mouth drops in shock. “Maxwell? Maxwell Beaumont?”

“Yeah, I think you’d really like her. She’s just so...nice.”

“Is she a noble?”

“No, she’s a veterinarian assistant. They hooked up after an incident with one of the Beaumont peacocks. That was a few months ago, and they’ve been together ever since.”

“How cute,” Kendall coos. “But to circle back to your little suggestion, the answer is no.”

“Why not?”

“Because I like New York. I like living there.”

“I gave you a pass when you first left because you were going to school. But you graduated, it’s time to come home.”

“You can use your authoritative duchess voice on everyone else, but it won’t work with me, Nevrakis.”

“I think you’re wasting your potential in the States,” Olivia admits. “Do you know who your father is? His name, along with your degree, could get you a job in any financial sector in this country.”

“Trust me, I know.” The last thing Kendall wants to do is rely on nepotism in order to secure a job. “I don’t want him to make things happen for me, I can do it on my own. I love New York, I love my job. Stop trying to convince me to leave.”

Olivia pouts childishly. “But you’re staying for a while, right?”

“At least 2 months,” Kendall admits.

“Good.” She goes silent for a while, pondering if she should even bring this up. “You’re going to run into him eventually, you know.”

“I don’t plan on it.”

“Oh really?”

“I figured between the hospital, my dad’s physical therapy appointments, and taking care of him, I won’t even be getting out of the house much.”

“I don’t know if you're naive or delusional,” Olivia says with a snort. “Maybe both.”

“Look, I’m only back because of my dad. This isn’t a happy, social visit. Outings like this,” Kendall gestures to their surroundings, “are not going to be an everyday thing. Besides, I’m sure Liam will be busy doing princely things.”

“Technically kingly things.”

Kendall lifts her water bottle to her lips again. “Excuse me?”

“Liam’s the king now.” Olivia grimaces as Kendall spits the water out of her mouth. “Ew.”

“He’s king? Since when?”

“Leo abdicated last year. Literally left in the middle of the night and never looked back. Liam got crowned at the top of this year.”

To say the news shocks her would be an understatement. Kendall always knew Leo was flighty and impulsive, but this was an entirely new beast. “Wow.”

“Liam’s taken it in stride for the most part, but he refused to have a social season and pick a bride, much to Constantine’s dismay and he hasn’t spoken to Leo in months. The transition has been a bit...tough for him. Obviously he loves this country, but no one truly understands the weight of the crown, especially one that wasn’t made for you and that’s been shoved onto your head.”

Kendall doesn’t say anything else, trying to absorb all of the information given to her. Never in a million years did she ever think Liam would be the one running this country.

Olivia gauges her friend’s reaction to the news. She’s usually extremely stoic when it comes to Liam, shutting down the conversation when he’s mentioned or refusing to engage in anything about him at all. This is the most Kendall has spoken of him in years, it almost feels like a miracle that she doesn’t want to disrupt.

Kendall clears her throat awkwardly. “Can we please order another round?”

“One more, Mason. Then I’m cutting you off for–” Olivia abruptly stops talking as she sees Maxwell, Drake, and Liam enter the garden.

“You can’t cut me off,” Kendall says, not noticing Olivia’s shift in tone. “You aren’t the–”

A loud gasp cuts into Kendall’s sentence. “Mason!?”

Kendall’s head whips around and she sees the trio of guys heading over. Maxwell and Drake have broad grins on their faces, but not Liam. He looks as if he’s seen a ghost.

His heart hammers in his chest as he looks at her. It’s...crazy how many memories come flooding back to him. They all slam into him like a ton of bricks, one after the next.

“Liam!” 18 year old Kendall squeals as Liam buries his face in the crook of her neck, kissing her. “Liam, you’re distracting me.”

“You smell good,” Liam murmurs into her skin. She smells like coconuts. “You always smell so good.”

“Thank you. But you’re supposed to be helping me study! I have a test tomorrow for my government class.”

“Is that the only reason I’m here?” Liam pulls away from Kendall and smirks at her.

“Obviously,” Kendall teases. “What good is dating a prince if I can’t use him to help me ace my exams?”

Liam feigns shock, jumping away from Kendall. He wraps a hand around her ankle and tugs it hard, sending her flying forward. Her head flies back, hitting the pile of pillows she has neatly placed on her bed. She laughs at the action, a laugh that makes Liam’s heart still thud wildly in his chest, 3 years into dating her.

“Take it back,” Liam orders. Kendall kicks at him, but he jumps back, narrowly dodging her foot.

“Make me.”

The challenge causes Liam’s eyes to darken, mischief sparkling in their pretty blue depths. In one quick stride, he’s towering over Kendall, his arms braced at either of her sides. “You’re not with me because you can use it to your advantage.”

“Prove it, mister.”

“You’re with me because I make you laugh,” Liam says, leaning closer to his girlfriend. He kisses the tip of her nose. “Because I know how to make you smile after a long day.” He kisses the apples of her cheeks next. “Because I know you better than you know yourself. Because I’m your best friend, even though Olivia would murder me if I said that in her presence,”

Liam pounces onto the bed, his knees replacing his arms and barricading Kendall underneath him. His hands go up to cradle her face, touching her with care as if she were a piece of fine art.

“You want to know why I’m really with you?” Kendall asks rhetorically.

“Enlighten me, Lady Kendall.”

She turns her head slightly and kisses the inside of his arm. “Because I am absolutely, positively, head over heels in love with you, Prince Charming.”

Liam knows this. He and Kendall have never been shy when it comes to expressing their love for one another, but every time she says she loves him, it feels like the first time all over again. A wide grin breaks out on his face, something so bright and uninhibited, something reserved solely for her. “And I love you, Kendall. More than anything else in the world.”

Liam is pulled from the memory when he sees Kendall get out of her seat to greet Maxwell, her arms wrapping around his neck as they meet in a ferocious hug.

Maxwell kisses the side of her head. “I’ve missed you, my little blossom!”

“I missed you too, Max.”

“Is New York treating you well?”

“Yes. You guys need to come visit me again. I’ll take you to all the cool spots.” Kendall turns her attention to Drake next. “There’s a whiskey bar in Brooklyn that you would absolutely adore.”

“Is it better than the one in Manhattan?”

“Much.”

“Mason, you’re talking my language.”

“What are you doing out here?” Maxwell asks.

“It’s my dad,” Kendall says, sobering up instantly as she remembers the reason why she’s here. “He had a heart attack.” She sees the looks of panic flash across Drake and Maxwell’s faces. “He’s going to be okay, his doctors are optimistic.”

Maxwell nods. “Damn right he is. Stephen is going to bounce back better than ever.”

“If he stays on course, he’ll be released in a few days,” Kendall continues. “So I have a lot to get done within the next 36 hours.”

“Do you need any help?” Drake asks.

“No. I think I’ll call a cleaning service in the morning to make sure the estate is spotless. And once he meets with a nutritionist, I have to go grocery shopping. But for now, I’m okay. Thanks for the offer.”

Maxwell affectionately squeezes Kendall’s hand. “Don’t hesitate to reach out, Kenny, with whatever.”

Kendall’s eyes briefly flicker over to Liam. He’s still standing there, as still as a statue, and she looks away before he notices her. But she feels his blue eyes, burning a hole into the side of her head.

She feels dizzy, and she isn’t sure if it’s from being in such close proximity to him or the amount of alcohol she’s consumed.

Because while Liam can look at her and remember the good times, the sight of him is quickly unraveling her.

The night of their breakup is still so fresh in her mind, her senses overwhelmed by the memory.

Her heart thuds so loudly in her chest, she can feel it in her ears.

She can still recall the taste of the salty tears flowing freely from her eyes as she cried. She remembers the soreness, the way the muscles in her back and shoulders ached after she was wracked with uncontrollable sobs.

“Please, Liam!” The unrecognizable desperation in her voice rattles her as she drops to her knees in front of Liam. Who is she? “Forget about New York, forget about Columbia! I don’t need to go. I just need you, I want you. I’ll stay. I’ll stay and we’ll be together.”

Liam frowns sadly. “I can’t be the reason you stay. I need to let you go.”

“No! Don’t do this to us.”

Her breath hitches in her throat at the memory. It was the worst day of her life, and she’s tried for 4 long years to bury the memories and forget them entirely. But one look at Liam and she’s back to square one. In an instant, she’s that 18 years old girl again, the one that was hopelessly in love with him and got her heart annihilated in turn.

She turns to Olivia. “I think I should finally head home.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m tired.” It’s not a lie. Kendall is exhausted and it’s a decent enough excuse. But the gang knows better, they know her desire to flee is due to the monarch standing next to them.

“Are you good to drive?” Olivia questions.

“I’ll call Gladys or Zach to come pick me up.” Kendall grabs her purse and rifles through it with shaky fingers, looking for any random bills. “How much do I owe you?”

Olivia shakes her head. “Don’t worry about the tab, it’s my treat.”

“Thank you. I’ll call you when I get home, okay?”

“You better.”

Kendall turns to Maxwell and Drake. She plasters on a smile, one that’s rehearsed and doesn’t reach her eyes. “It was nice seeing you two again.”

The dig at the king’s expense doesn’t go unnoticed. Kendall treats him like he isn’t there, blatantly refusing to acknowledge his existence.

She gives them one last smile and wave, making her way out. “Goodnight guys.”

Kendall’s going to have to pass Liam in order to reach the exit, so he decides that now might be the only time he can talk to her. “Kendall, wait!”

He lightly grabs her arm, stopping her from leaving and that’s when things go south. Before he can react, Kendall turns around and catches his wrist between her fingers, twisting his entire arm at an awkward angle.

A pain shoots up his arm and he winces in spite of himself. Bastien, who had been keeping a respectful distance, strides over to the table, ready to diffuse the situation. “Unhand him at once, Lady Kendall.”

“Touch me again, and I swear I’ll break it,” Kendall hisses fiercely. She turns to Bastien. “That wasn’t a threat, it was a promise.”

“Let him go,” Bastien commands. He doesn’t want to escalate the situation by any means, but he can’t let the king get hurt, even if his ex is the one inflicting the wound.

Kendall drops Liam’s hand and he instantly goes to cradle it. When did she learn that move?

Without another word, she stalks off, not sparing another glance at her friends or the other patrons of the establishment who saw the incident.

“Are you alright, Your Majesty?” Bastien asks, surveying Liam’s wrist.

“I’m fine. She didn’t actually break anything.”

“Everyone here will be signing a non disclosure agreement,” Bastien continues. It doesn’t need to get out that that king’s ex-girlfriend nearly broke his wrist for all of the public to see. He says something into his earpiece about closing the garden down for a few minutes, but Liam’s not listening anymore.

The young monarch turns to the scarlet haired duchess sitting a few feet away from him. He narrows his eyes at her. “Pray tell, when were you going to mention that Kendall was back in town?”

Olivia grins like a Cheshire Cat and raises her glass at the question. “Surprise!”

#playchoices #choices: stories you play #the royal romance #the royal heir #king liam #king liam x mc #pixelberry

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pbandjesse · 4 years

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We are sitting in the car waiting for James to get his bike all attached to the back. Which is taking a little while but that's okay. I'm just really tired. We just finished dinner with his family again and it was excellent and a lot of fun. But we did a lot today and I am just really looking forward to sleep.

I did sleep okay last night. But I heard everyone awake around 9 so I got up too.

To find that the water was turned off. Because one of the water heaters in the building broke. Dang. So I washed my face and brushed my teeth with my water bottle.

I felt pretty good. James and Jess were having coffee. And James had scones baking for us. I finished getting dressed. And soon Jess was sitting with me and we were doing our makeup together. It was fun.

Eventually we headed out and walked over to the café for real breakfast.

And it was good. And I am glad we have two nice cafés in walking distance. But mostly I was just really happy to be with Jess. I'm sad she's going home tomorrow because this weekend has been excellent.

Once we were done with breakfast we headed back to the house to get the car.

Off to the thrift stores we went. They were calling for snow but it only lasted a few minutes once we were inside and then it was just horrible rain. But that was okay.

I had an interaction that upset me a little though and could have dampened my whole day but I saved it. Through kindness. Me and Jess were looking at stuff and went over to the toys and another girl our age was looking took and she found a baby furby. And I was so upset I didn't find it first but excited for her. And her boyfriend came over and was like I saw that! And I said to them it's a lamb baby and they are my favorite and if you don't get it I will. And he said they are trying to fix some furbies right now and I was like that's so cool. And was trying to be positive but then she shot me a look and was putting off this vibe like she was upset with me. Like I was trying to take that furby from her. And I wasnt! I was just excited. So we walked away.

But then I was sad. And Jess went to look at shirts while I looked at coats. But I was sad and trying to shake it.

But I told Jess why I was sad and shook it off best I could and we went to look at dressed.

We loaded up this cart. Just everything we even only kind of liked went in the cart. It was hilarious. I went around the corner to the other dresses and there the girl who got the furby was. And I decided to reach out and have a conversation. Turns out she sells nostalgic 80s and 90s toys on ebay! And I told her about my Instagram and now we follow each other. And I told her if she posts furbies I'll make a post about it! It was so nice and it made me feel 1000% better.

Once me and Jess decided we had enough things we went to the dressing room. Jess went first and I organized the cart so our stuff was easier to grab. She tried on some ridicules things I picked out for her. And many just silly things she found. But she found some stuff she looked beautiful in and it was just really fun to see what she found. I tried things on a lot quicker even though I had about the same amount of stuff. I ended up getting a couple dresses and skirts. But my main great find of the day was an LL Bean jacket in light blue that I am so obsessed with. Im going to wear it tomorrow. It was a maybe at first and I actually put it back because its a little big. But I couldnt stop thinking about it and it was only $7.

The line to check out was very long. So we wandered around for a while longer. Jess found this really neat faux antique mirror but it would have been a huge production to get it to New York. So after much hemming and hawing it was left. But I did find a kneeling chair and I have wanted one for as long as I can remember so that was a well spent $15. We spent a good amount of money but we got so much stuff. Including 2 really great pairs of shoes. One are beetle boots in blue velvet with buttons, and the other are leather shoes with sherpa interior that spills out and they are while but incredible. Im really jazzed about them.

We finished up there and it was raining. But we got to the car in one piece and headed to the small goodwill down the street. I do not like this goodwill. I find them rude. But we each got one good thing. She got a bottle shaped like a fish and I got those hand gripper exercise things I wanted. But I got really upset because there was an amazing vintage suitcase I wanted to buy that didnt have a price ad that goodwill wont just go to the back and find out and they have signs about it all over. And I was just really bummed. And they were like. Well you could try again tomorrow. And my feelings are this store, of all the good wills Ive been too, has the highest amount of unpriced stuff I have seen. And they wont sell it without a price! But they also wont put a price on it. Like guys. You are just wasting everyones time. You continue to be the worst goodwill. It sucks.

So I just felt upset and wanted to go. We wanted a snack so off we went to the amish market. Except somehow I chose the wrong one? this was not the one I had been to before. It was very strange. But we did find one and I got a pretzel and she got a pickle and it was nice to walk around for a coupe minutes before we were back on the road.

We went to the other goodwill. But honestly I was a little burnt out on shopping. I didnt want to look at anymore clothes. She did get a pretty excellent planter and I got an amazing 4 set of plates shaped like sea shells. They are great. But thats all we got. And that was just fine.

We went to a diner for a late lunch. It was so cute and chrome. My favorite type of diner. The food was good but alll very hot. And I was starting to get tired.

We were about to be on our way home when I remeberd one of the things I wanted to accompish today was getting more snails and maybe a second frog and a heater. So we tried a pet store near where we were. No luck. So into Towson we went where we had great luck. I got 3 black snails. The same kind as my white ones. And a heater. No frog but as soon as we got home and got everything inside I put the snails in the tank and its like a switch was turned on in the frog.

He starts swimming around. And the snails werent all the way out of their shells yet but he was just sitting and as soon as they started moving he started moving. And now they are all motering around in the tank and I am so excited. He seems so much happier now. And the tank is already free of old worms and food. This is great.

Me and Jess sat in the living room taking tags off. And figuring out where James was. I knew he was with his friend but we were going ice skating and wasnt sure if we were waiting for him.

But we ended up going and meeting him there and it was a blast. It was so nice skating with Jess and we took pictures and I just had a really good time. James got upset after we left because he somehow lost a glove. But I keep telling him its okay. But hes mad at himself. I wish he wasnt but it happens.

We all left there and had dinner with his family again. Very expensive weekend! But the food and company was lovely. We were there until like 1030 and we were also celebrating James's mom's birthday and it was just really good. I felt really happy. But also really tired.

But once we went back to the park to get his bike we headed home. Which is where Im finishing this post. Jess just got a shower and I am going to do that next. I am very happy but also very sleepy. And tomorrow is another day. I hope you all sleep great. Have a wonderful night. Pray for snow.

#ootd #day off #friend #jess #ice skating #happy #thrift stores #saturday

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agentkgent · 5 years

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Fic: If You Want It Back

Chapter One: You’d Probably Think (Tumblr | AO3)

Chapter Two: If You Knew | Read on AO3

(This is a short chapter, mostly establishing that our boys are on opposite sides of the country as adults; They do not remember each other and they are not happy; this isn’t necessarily a HAPPY chapter, but it’s setting up for some cavity-inducing sweet fluff heading your way!)

- - -

Eddie | 39

“Eddie, there just won’t be enough room for all of this!” Myra insists, gesturing to the boxes of clothes.

Eddie gives a half-hearted chuckle and runs a hand through his hair. “Sweetheart, I need space for my stuff, too.”

Myra quirks her eyebrow at him and continues to argue. “This is my closet. That was the deal.”

“Honey, it’s attached to our bedroom.”

Myra turns icy at his response. “It is my closet. We’re in this tiny apartment that you wanted, that you said was so important, and I said I need my own walk-in closet. That was the deal.”

“Myra, this apartment is hardly tiny. And I have to be able to put my clothes away.”

“There’s a dresser over there,” she points.

He looks for a moment. “How can I fit all my things in three drawers?”

Myra shrugs carelessly. “And I didn’t get my craft room. Figure it out, Eddie.”

He sighs in defeat. “Yes, dear, I know.”

Eddie and Myra Kaspbrak are finally moving into their first home in New York - an apartment just south of Midtown Manhattan. It’d been a long time coming, a lot of long, frustrating conversations on home amenities and proximity to the airport. He had to do a lot of traveling, after all.

Eddie knows this isn’t what Myra wanted. What she wanted was a two-story, four-bedroom, two-bath modern home and a fucking jacuzzi in the backyard. If he had a nickel for every time he had to say, “I just don’t make enough money, sweetheart,” or “That’s too far a drive from JFK,” and “We may need to move, I can’t get locked into a mortgage just yet.” He mine as well have been negotiating with his mother. (God rest her soul.) Myra only understood that Eddie made “good money” with the insurance company. To her, that meant they made “plenty of money” to afford whatever she wanted.

He pulls off his jacket, and pulls up his long sleeves to get to work on his boxes of clothes.

“Eddie-bear, you know you don’t need all those clothes. Just get rid of some things,” Myra says from inside her closet. He refuses to turn around and watch her carefully placing her designer handbags and shoes. “Just keep work clothes out and leave the rest in storage.”

“Sure and I’ll just sleep in my work clothes, too.” He says quietly to himself. He carefully cuts open the first box and looks over the stack of nicely folded shirts in air-tight bags, organized by color. He pushes the box to the side and moves onto the next box, that reads “Eddie: Miscellaneous” on the side in marker. This one might actually contain stuff he can get rid of to appease his wife.

His wife.

Eddie loves Myra. Of course he loves his wife. Eddie is a good man with a good job and goals and loves his wife very much. Myra was the perfect woman for him, exactly his type. He enjoys kissing her. He enjoys sleeping with her. She takes care of him. She loves him. Not a lot of people love Eddie, but Myra does. She’s his better half. She keeps him in check. Keeps him focused on what’s important. ...Which, would be her, he guesses?

The key to a healthy, successful marriage is repeating these things over and over again until they’re real, right?

He hears his lovely, selfless, caring wife strut out of the room towards their new living room.

He cuts open the “miscellaneous” box, full of clothes that are not in air-tight baggies nor are they organized by color. He can already smell age on them, possibly dust and mildew from sitting in his mother’s storage. He pulls a few items out, looking at them and then back inside the box. There’s not too many things in here, but it’s obvious they are not from his adulthood. He then examines the few clothing items he’s pulled out - an old fannypack (From when he was a kid, always carrying his meds around. That can go;) an old pair of pajamas (Myra will yell at him for wearing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles pajamas like a teenager. These can go;) a couple old polo shirts (From college, probably. And probably too small by now. They can go;), a zip-up hoodie…

The hoodie looks like it might fit. (But he never wears ash-gray, it’s too cheap-looking for his tastes.) It is a jacket hoodie, might be nice for layering in cold New York winters. He looks over its condition. It’s very worn, almost like it’s supposed to look vintage. One of the wrist cuffs is ripped open at the seam, like someone’s been shoving their fingers through it, something only an annoying kid would do. There’s also a rusty brown stain on the opposite cuff, which is undoubtedly blood. Ew. He looks at the zipper of the jacket, which is missing a metal tab, and extra difficult to zip. Okay, well that’s great. There is no size or manufacturer tag, it’s apparently been ripped out. The strings coming out of the hoodie near the neck are discolored and dingy, and ...are those bite marks at the plastic ends? Disgusting.

There are dark, hard spots around the edges of the pockets on the front. He rubs his thumb across them gently, and knows. They’re cigarette burns. Wow. Well, this definitely wasn’t his, he’s never smoked a day in his life. He would really like to not die of cancer, thank you very much.

His thoughts are abruptly cut short when Eddie subconsciously catches a whiff of the jacket. Undoubtedly, he smells cigarette smoke. Maybe even marijuana, which he’s never touched. But there’s more than that. He pulls the jacket closer to his face, closes his eyes, and smells.

Body spray. Not the nice cologne Eddie wears, but some kind of cheap, douchey-smelling body spray meant to impress girls. Wood. Burning wood, like a bonfire. And… sweat. Someone else’s sweat. Which really should be gross, and it sort of is first, but he keeps breathing it in. It’s an unidentifiable, masculine smell from someone this hoodie belonged to.

There’s something warm in his chest. His heart is pounding as he inhales the jacket’s bouquet over and over again.

“It’s one of my faves.” He can hear a voice say quietly, from somewhere dark in his brain.

His hands are shaking as he sets it down and wipes his hand across his mouth and nose, fidgeting. His mind is racing to identify where this jacket came from, but he can’t complete his mental search. There’s like, nothingness where he expects to find answers. He can feel sweat forming on his forehead and his throat getting tighter. What is happening? Is this an asthma attack? He hasn’t had an attack in years. He puts his hand on his chest and forces himself to breath at a steadier pace, in and out, in and out.

“Eddie-bear, you ok?” He’s startled for a moment. How long was Myra standing there?

He clears his throat. “Yes, dear, I’m okay.” Gotta make up something to throw her off, he doesn’t want her thinking he has ever smoked. She’d never let him live it down. “Just trying to figure out if this is clean or not.”

Myra rips the hoodie from his hand, Eddie grasps at it pathetically. “Why? What does it smell like?” She holds the hood of it up to her nose, then scrunches her face at it. “It doesn’t smell like anything. Just smells dirty.” She tosses it back to him. “Also, it’s torn up. Why do you still have it?” She steps across the wood floors back towards her precious closet. “Just throw it out.”

He knows already this isn’t even his jacket. He just… doesn’t understand why he has it. What he does know is getting rid of it is not an option. He needs this. He’s… supposed to return it, he thinks.

He decides that there is room for it. So he folds it tightly and sticks it in the back of his bottom dresser drawer, where he hopes Myra won’t ever notice it.

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

Richie | 39

Richie wants to fall asleep. Everything will be easier if he just falls asleep. Everything will be over sooner if he just falls asleep.

He looks at his smart watch. It’s 2:40 a.m.

He’s lying on his bed in his LA home, naked except for his boxers, next to a stranger he has just had sex with. The sex was fine, pretty standard. She wasn’t interested in foreplay, which he doesn’t mind because he’s not good at pretending to enjoy it. He’s not really interested in her. She’s not interested in him either, he thinks. She’s probably just interested in writing about it on one of those bullshit ‘celebrity sex review’ blogs. A part of him kind of hopes, actually.

He’s sure of one thing: he wants her out of his home so he can continue to be miserable in peace.

The bed is shifting and he can feel a hand on his chest.

“You okay?” The stranger asks in an innocent voice that fools no one. She’s pretty enough. Rich, dark hair and brown eyes. Tanned skin and a nice body. He doesn’t remember her name or if they even actually talked at the bar. She knew who he was, and that was enough.

“Fuckin great.” He fakes a smile at her. She starts to snuggle against him, which is not the response he wanted. “Hey, listen, this was awesome, but I’m flying out early tomorrow.” He had really hoped to just doze off and deal with this in the morning. But his favorite lie usually worked to get these types of strangers out of his home, out of his life.

“Oh. Where are you going?” She rests her chin on his chest.

“...Chicago.”

“I love Chicago!” She giggles.

Another fake smile, but more difficult to pull of. “Yep.” And he gently moves from under her, leaning away.

“You should totally go to the giant silver bean and take selfies by it-”

“Listen, I gotta get up super early, so I’m gonna call you an Uber.” He lifts himself from the bed and walks across the bedroom to pull on a t-shirt.

“Oh? Okay.” She responds too happily. It’s irritating that she isn’t taking a hint. She gets up and begins pulling on her shorts and heels.

Richie heads to his nightstand, where he picks up his phone and requests an Uber to his Hollywood home. “‘Jerry’ will be here in six minutes in his ‘2015 Toyota Camry.’ He’ll take you wherever you want.�� He’s not very good at hiding the fact that he doesn’t really care if she gets home, just as long as she goes.

He hears her ridiculously tall Stilettos click behind him and feels hands on his shoulders. “My number’s in your phone. Call me when you get back?”

Goddamn it, just go already. “Sure.”

Her arms drop to her sides and she makes an annoyed noise. She just got the hint.

His sexual guest struts across the living room towards the entryway, holding her bag and jacket. Richie can’t help but examine her ass as she walks, even though there’s no longer any mystery to what lies beneath her shorts. He scans the room for anything missing (he’s been robbed by a hot woman once or twice) and sees a bright pink bra and lacy top still lying on the couch. He sees that she is wearing his shirt, on her way out.

Nuh-uh, no, NOPE, they are not playing this game. “Uh, sweetheart.” He whistles. She stops and turns to him, and he responds by eyeing her up-and-down. “Can I have my shirt back?”

She tests him with a coy smile. “Well, maybe I’ll bring it back to you?”

“No, no no no no no no, you can wear your own clothes home. That’s my favorite shirt.” He extends an arm and is flexing his fingers in a ‘gimme’ motion.

She’s taken aback, but comes back towards him to take off the shirt. Slowly. Presenting her tits.

They’re not that impressive. And she’s being annoying, so he’s done pretending to be charming.

He smirks, snatches the shirt from her hand, and then walks back towards his bedroom.

He can hear her shuffle to pick up her remaining clothes, her heels clicking across the floor. She scoffs. “So, that’s it?”

He doesn’t face her, he just raises a waving hand to gesture ‘goodbye.’ “That’s it!”

“Wow. Fuck you.” She spouts.

Richie tosses his shirt on his kitchen counter. Bless his open floor plan. “Yeah, thanks for that.”

She mockingly laughs and opens the front door. “You’re an asshole. And you’re not funny.”

“Okie dokes!” He says casually at her.

The Uber driver pulls up behind her in the driveway. “ASSHOLE!” She shrieks, and slams the door shut.

He slumps onto his stupidly-expensive couch and exhales in relief. “Yep. I sure am.”

He doesn’t know why he allows himself to get used by every horny fan he meets. (And “fan” is a generous term. None of them even give a shit about his comedy, they just know who he is and that he’s got a couple specials on Netflix.)

He should be grateful. He’s got everything he could ever want and need. He’s got a huge house, plenty of money, 156K followers on Instagram, more comedy special gigs on the way, may even go on tour with some big names. He’s got a shot at Saturday Night Live, his manager tells him. Not that Richie wants to move to New York. He doesn’t know anyone in New York.

Not that he knows anyone in LA, either. Just horny fans he meets in sleazy bars.

He should be grateful, and he knows that. But he’s just miserable. And alone.

He rubs his eyes under his glasses and lets them fall back onto his nose before he stands up to march himself to sleep. He grabs his shirt on the way back to his empty bedroom.

“Bitch thought she could take my favorite shirt.” And he flicks off the lightswitch.

#reddie #fanfic #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #adult reddie #miserable reddie #dont worry we'll make them happy i promise dude #ao3 #chapter 2

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malecftw · 5 years

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You bring the speed, I’ll bring the stamina - Simon Lewis

Request: The Shadowhunters request would be Simon having a werewolf s/o and Simon can be a bit jealous especially when some attractive person started flirting with them.

A/N: So a lil imagine with our very lovely mr. Simon Lewis as the leading man. Lil’ jealous, lil’ teasing. Tried to make the reader gender neutral which I hope I succeeded at. Let me know what you think? (Also wow Alberto in that pic had me stuttering)

Tags: @ohmypreciousgavinyeet

Requests are open!

Masterlist.

‘I’m perfectly fine to go on my own Simon.’ You say, rolling your eyes as your boyfriend was once again ranting about going to your packs party alone. He places his left hand on his hip, the other gripping the chair he’s standing behind.

‘How do you know that? Werewolves are vicious as it is, let alone with liquor involved.’ You glare at him and straighten the collar of your maroon shirt. ‘Excuse me?’ He looks at you with a still doubtful yet teasing smile. ‘Well... Some werewolves.’ You look up at the ceiling and push yourself off of the wooden vintage chair you were sat on.

As you strut over to him you continue looking at him seriously, making him doubt if he should’ve voiced his concerns in the first place. ‘Simon Lewis. A vampire at a werewolf party... As much as I love you, you can be so stupid sometimes.’ He tilts his head as you gently grasp the side of it, rubbing the short hairs behind his ears. He closes his eyes in enjoyment and grabs your wrist affectionately. ‘Baby, I just... I don’t like Jordan. He looks at you in a certain way. A way that’s meant for me only.’

You grin. ‘Is my favorite vampire... Jealous?’ He scoffs and pulls back. ‘I’m not jealous.’ You cross your arms and move closer again. ‘Oh but I think you are.’ Simon shakes his head and takes your hand in his, playing with the ring he gave you a while back for your anniversary. ‘His forehead... It’s just so... Big.’ This makes you burst out into laughter and he smiles at the sound. Nothing could brighten his mood and make his worries disappear quicker than your laughter. Not the boring laugh you used when you were with friends and acquaintances. Your real laugh, the one where tears would roll down your cheeks and your whole body would shake uncontrollably. The one that would spark a fire in his heart, like seeing you again for the first time. You. Completely you. All of you. You in your truest and purest form. The one he loves. The one he thought didn’t exist. He never believed in soulmates and all that jazz.

Until you came along and spilled your iced coffee all over him on the streets of Brooklyn, New York. Who would’ve thought? A newly turned werewolf, looking for a fresh start in a big city running into a recently turned vampire. Both just as lost as most of the tourists wandering around. He still recalls the first time you turned in front of him. He still remembers coming clean about his vampire alter ego. He remembers the pure understanding and respect you both had for one another. How finally you’d both found your person.

‘Simon?’ You question, snapping your fingertips in front of his face. ‘Earth to Simon?’ ‘Hey sorry, I’m back. I was just imagining Jordan putting that big ol’ forehead on your cute one and felt the urge to throw myself off of the Empire State Building.’ You tssk, looking him in the eyes. ‘As if that would do you any harm. My cute, loving, handsome,’ You pause and bite your lip as he urges you to continue. ‘Incredibly sexy, indestructible, vampire boyfriend.’ He smirks and grabs your ass, making you moan. ‘Wow, you’re good.’ You get closer to him, lips almost touching before you grab your keys laying behind him on the desk. ‘I won’t be long babe.’ He watches the shiny keys in your hand and groans. ‘Are you freaking kidding me. You better make this up to me tonight.’

You get close once again and purr into his ear. ‘Oh I will. You bring the speed, I’ll bring the stamina.’

#simon lewis imagine #simon lewis imagines #gender neutral #shadowhunters imagines #shadowhunters imagine #simon x reader #simon lewis x reader

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viranlly · 4 years

Photo

I love New York. I love drinking. I abso-fuck*n-lutely love drinking in New York. I love it so much I went to New York just to drink - caution: this trip is not, and I repeat, not for everybody. I mean, what’s not to love about drinking in New York?! The endless supply of bars; the attractive, charming and talented bar staffs, and let’s not forget the beyond delicious libations they serve up ‘til 3 (even 4) AM on a Monday - astounding, especially when you come from a small town where last call is 12.45, if you’re lucky. Before our trip, we agreed on the ‘one-drink-one-bar-rule’ - a rule that we slowly abandoned as the night progressed. After what felt like a 12 hour commute from YVR, I arrived in Penn Station, starved and parched. A quick change and a touch up later, I finally made it to dinner at WildAir: a hip, trendy, wine-focused Lower East Side restaurant from the boys who opened the Michelin-starred Contra. The food menu is a fairly simple: tartare, mushrooms, clams, and allegedly out-of-this-world fried squid. The wine list, on the other hand, is extensive and edgy. If you’re into the whole natural, skin-contact wine situation like we are, you’ll probably see us there again with a bottle of Susucaru, snacking on some fried squid. A couple blocks down from Wildair, is Bar Goto. A cozy Japanese bar with a MOOD AF lighting, brought to you by Kenta Goto, a Pegu club alumn. The man himself made me a plum Sazerac the last time I was in. It easily became one of those cocktails you crave over and over again. So naturally, I got one, and another one for good measure. The whisky finally kicked in. With a little buzz and a much better mood, we made it to Death and Company and put our name on the list. Wait time was about an hour and 30 mins, enough for a cocktail or two at Angel’s Share – or so we thought. It’s another 45 mins wait for us, but luckily, they have a sister bar next door that’s much less crowded, a little brighter, and slightly more peaceful. Our new friend Ryan, who’s bartending that night made me a ‘Bewitched’, a riff on Old Fashioned with grilled and spiced truffle-infused whisky, cognac, Kokuto syrup, bitters and Kaffir lime leaf. It’s as decadent as it sounds. Stunning mixture of flavour, texture, and aroma on each indulgent sip. It was on point. It’s finally time for us to get to Death and Co. Their Manhattan’s been calling my name since September last year. Everything about Death and Co’s Manhattan is perfect: the bourbon, the vermouth, the ratio, the temperature, just everything. Say what you want (I actually got into an argument on this) but this, is the best Manhattan in Manhattan. The night spiralled down the rabbit hole after the next drink, a Boulevardier - I remember we had two more cocktails there, but I can’t, for the sake of me, remember what they were. I know there was gin, somewhere, somehow. I won’t bore you with the details of our challenging journey home so let’s skip to the morning after - two bottles of Pedialyte, two advils, and a hot shower later. Our mind was focused on a bougie-ish scrambled eggs and caviar at Buvette, and so was the whole West Village apparently. “50 minutes” - the cute European host said. Other people would typically take this time to walk around, maybe get an oat-mylk latte and a croissant. Since we’re no ordinary people, and it just so happened that their sister bar ‘Pisellino’ just opened down the street (what a coincidence), we kinda had to stop by for a drink. It’s 1145, and in front of me was a full, frosty glass (and a mini carafe) of dry martini with olive and twist on the side. What a perfect West Village morning: sunny, breezy, and boozy. By the time we sat down for breakfast, I was a little buzzed, again. But nothing a plate fluffy scrambled eggs and caviar, waffle with berry compotes, croque madame, and another bottle of bubbly rosé can’t fix. We then spent the afternoon roaming around Soho, shopping for all the things we convinced ourselves we desperately needed - Hello new Thom Browne fragrance! It’s a quarter to eight, we were dressed to the nines, ready for a 10/10 night out in New York City. Our plan to have a chic pre-dinner cocktail at Polo Bar was cancelled because someone (aka me) forgot to call and make a reso, and it was packed there. We had to settle for the King Cole Bar across the street where the drinks were meh and the price tag was awfully expensive (no more $25, bland, overly spicy Red Snapper for us) - I went in purely to relive my Andy Sachs’ Harry Potter unpublished manuscript moment and nothing more. Dinner tonight was at the hyped up Korean steakhouse Cote in Flatiron. The one Michelin-starred restaurant is all about high quality meat, delectable side dishes, and impressive wine list (Their beverage director is such a star!). Here’s the thing, if you can make a hanger steak taste so succulently delicious, you’re doing something right. That’s exactly what they do at Cote. The steak (aside from the Galbi) is prepared in the simplest fashion: heat and salt, no marinade, no spices, no nothing - it was perfect. The service was impeccable, the timing of each dish was flawless. With a tummy filled with steak, scallion salad, and rice, we decided to walk our way back to the West Village - seemed crazy far, but at that point, it was necessary. We made it to Dante, who recently crowned #1 bar in the world, so naturally it was very busy. The apero-focused bar is famous for their ‘Negroni Sessions’, which is impressive and can be adventurous. From the most classic, to the most unexpected variation with tequila, banana and pineapple shrub, they do it, and they do it well. If you’re in the mood to splurge (we weren’t lol), their vintage martini is absolutely worth the $65 price tag (the Plymouth gin from ‘60s alone is drool-worthy). I, decided to go for the Olivette: a savoury, brine-y, less serious cousin of the vesper. We then visited Katana Kitten. Another bar in the village that scored a spot in this year’s 50 Best Bars, number 14 to be exact. It’s a fun (the owner Masahiro Urushido is also quite a legend), non pretentious neighbourhood bar with playful and whimsical cocktails. I obviously started with a Hinoki martini, yet another variation of the vesper, while Handika was having a slushy, boozy, crushed-icy ‘dessert’ (didn’t count as a drink, apparently). It was difficult to have just one drink here: would you skip on a yuzu-sisho daiquiri? how about a genever-based negroni with umeshu? or a calpico swizzle? Ya I don’t think so either. We had one of each, plus a another sisho G&T, and the classic highball. YOLO. For the sake of settling our argument on the best Manhattan in Manhattan, I invited Doris to join us at Employees Only across the street from Katana Kitten, conveniently. By the time we saw each other, my Manhattan was gone, and I was drinking a Monkey 47 martini yet again. That’s about all I can recall from that night. Oh wait, there was a tequila shot and another Manhattan - the end. Monday morning - not enough Pedialyte, water nor Advil in the world to bring me back to life. I, somehow, managed to meet Patrick for coffee, had a bite of a mushroom toast, and stayed alive. I made it back to the hotel just in time for a much-needed nap before check out and a trip to Williamsburg for lunch. It was rough. I kept telling myself another lie of “I’m never drinking again” for the 30 minute subway ride to Peter Luger. Peter Luger is a classic: steak (yes, another one), burger, with a side of onion, tomatoes, and fries. We then gathered enough energy to get to DUMBO for a picture of two (hundreds) before saying goodbye to each other - sad. I zipped back downtown for a meeting. A VERY EXCITING MEETING. I got the pleasure to visit the Bon Appetit test kitchen, thanks for the my lovely host Chris Morocco (Yes - we’re friends now HA!). it’s only appropriate that I wore my ‘Thirsty for Andy’ t-shirt - Andy was there, and we obvs. bonded over my OOTD. Claire was doing her ‘Gourmet Makes’, Carla was there, Molly too, Oh I also got to meet Alex Delany and Em Scultz too. It’s a casual Monday afternoon at BA test kitchen. It’s now cocktail hour and the one man I got to meet this time was the man everyone needs in their life: mister Steven Huynh himself. An instagram-turned-real-life-friend that I’ve known for 7 years. We met for the first time that night and we got along over dry martini-inspired cocktails and crudité at Thomas Keller’s TAK room (in the Hudson Yards). Sitting at the bar at TAK room feels luxurious but not intimidating. The bar team was friendly, interactive, and passionate about amaro. They even took us downstairs to check out the vintage amaro collections at their speakeasy, Bookbinder. After a snack break, we visited David Chang’s new restaurant Kawi downstairs. Steven had a pineapple rum daiquiri, I, had a ‘New Fashioned’ - a play of the classic Old Fashioned with coconut-washed Japanese whisky, sencha and bitters. It was delicious. The buzz is back on, and I felt so much better (HA!). Our next stop was The Nomad Hotel - our absolute favorite. We felt like we’re home right away, especially after a delicious Monkey 47 martini (Nobody’s counting, right?). Zanib joined us later that night for a negroni, and of course, I had to refresh my almost empty drink. Another friend Erik joined us for one more drink. Things started to get blurry real quick, I recall there was a Manhattan, a Brooklyn, a rum cocktail of some sort, fried chicken, and a Macallan 12 at one point before we’re back in the car for a nightcap at Blacktail. A tiki-focused sister bar of Dead Rabbit. We’re welcomed by a pink slushy daiquiri, and the bartender made me a delicious, stirred rum cocktail to sip on - don’t ask what it’s called. I finally tapped out and made my way back to Brooklyn. With close to zero voice, I got to Newark and flew back to Vancouver via. Denver - yes, I made a stop to Death and Co for a Sazerac-esque cocktail called the Uncanny Valley and a lobster ceviche. Here I am two weeks later, still recovering from the worst sore throat of my life, slowly getting my voice back (still can’t hit Mariah’s note tho :s). Will I do it again? ABSOLUTELY! Thanks for the amazing time New York - until next time!

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dumbchickwrites · 5 years

Text

the end of the rainbow 🌈 — part 6

Pairings: Sam Wilson x OC! Iris Fury

Warnings: mentions of smut, plot within the plot ~ a subplot, if you will.

Words: 2257.

Summary: Former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent Iris Fury, daughter of Nick Fury, is called by her father to assist the Avengers while agent Romanoff recovers from a few wounds. A certain Falcon catches her eye. Follow Iris and Sam as they take a walk on the rainbow and eventually find out what hides at the end of that beautiful path.

A/N: sorry, no keep reading tag since I’m on mobile. no, I haven’t forgotten about your requests! they’re coming, I promise! also, I got carried away lol, this part and the next will pretty much be an Avengers movie🤷🏾‍♀️

Please comment and reblog if you enjoy! <3

***

One last time, she thought, staring at her reflection in the mirror. One last time then she'd tell him the truth, and it will be over.

Sam wanted to have that romantic dinner tonight, since it was Iris' actual birthday. She couldn't say no to him when he asked her on their first official date. Not when he looked at her, smile bright and eyes soft with adoration. So she said yes.

He was already waiting for her at his flat in the city. He'd left the compound in the early afternoon to get everything ready up there. Now it was almost time for Iris to join him.

A car was waiting for her outside. It would drive her there on autopilot then come back to the compound. She made her way down the stairs discreetly, careful not to step into a member of the team. She couldn't handle their disapproving gazes anymore.

New York City, as always, was buzzing with lights and excitement as the car made its way through the packed streets. Iris found herself growing more and more nervous as the car approached the red dot on the map. How should she tell him? When? How would he react? Or maybe she should just... leave?

A sigh fell off her lips as she laid her head back on the headrest.

She never should have agreed to come back to the US in the first place. Now she had a lover on one side of the Atlantic ocean, and a family on the other. Selfish and cruel. That was what she was. Not sparing a thought to the people she hurt.

"You have arrived to your destination."

The voice snapped Iris out of her thoughts. Her eyes scanned her surroundings before she allowed herself to step out of the grey car. She stepped into the building, her heels clinking on the floor. The receptionist greeted her, a polite smile on his face. After introducing herself and telling him why she was here, he kindly directed her to Sam's apartment.

Sam was certain he'd never been this nervous in his entire life. Not even during the first flight test with the EXO-7 wings. His apartment was filled with mouth-watering smells from the food he'd prepared - a three course meal for his girl. He had an arrangement of blue irises and red roses on the the table, soft music was playing in the background, setting a romantic atmosphere along with a few candles.

The sound of the doorbell resonated in the home, and his heart fell to the bottom of his stomach. On his way to the door, he stopped in front of the mirror to check his reflection one last time.

Breath got caught in his throat as he opened the door. A simple navy blue flared dress and heeled sandals was all she wore. Her hair was pinned in her regular sleek bun while small silver hoops adorned her ears.

"Hey," she flashed her a smile, and Sam realized he'd been staring at her for way too long.

"Hey, come in," he stepped aside, not taking his eyes off her as she walked in the apartment.

"Why are you looking at me like that? Is this too much? I didn't know what to wear because you said casual but at the same time it's our first date and—"

"Baby," Sam cut her rambling with an amused smirk. "You look amazing. You always do. Now come give me a kiss."

Her body moved on its own, attracted to Sam's as if it was a magnet, pulling her towards his warm, loving embrace.

Iris' eyes started to sting as she walked further into the flat, seeing how much effort Sam had put into the evening. She really didn't deserve him.

"You like it?" Sam's hand came to rest on her hip.

"Sam... I love it. Thank you."

"You're very welcome, baby girl," he whispered before giving her another sweet kiss.

Bottle of red wine was uncorked and poured into glasses. Iris, quite the connoisseur, marvelled at Sam's choice. Sheepishly, he admitted that he went around asking the team about some of Iris' favourite things to make the night as good as possible — including her favourite wine which according to Tony was any vintage French red with sweet undertones.

First glasses of wine down, hunger made stronger by drinking alcohol on an empty stomach, they soon settled around the table. As the city went about its usual frenzy outside the large glass windows, Sam brought the first course to the dining table, an entrée worthy of a Michelin star restaurant.

"Are you sure you never went to a culinary school somewhere?" Iris mused, tastebuds raving in her mouth.

"Just like to watch a lot of cooking shows," he smiled.

"This tastes fantastic. And with the wine, ugh! You blew my mind, Wilson."

Main course, then dessert. All while talking and talking, as if they never grew tired of each other's voice and mimics and stories. Gulps of wine, second bottle uncorked, melted chocolate and notes of berries from the wine mixed together to form an elixir, an aphrodisiac, like being around each other wasn't already enough for their bodies to turn into lava. More talking, until it was time to clean up.

Bare feet on the wooden floor, heels discarded in a corner of the room for her, soft padding of socks for him, they waltzed around the room, plates and cutlery clinking as they loaded the dishwasher.

Then the familiar, world famous guitar air filled the room, the notes soft and resonating throughout their entire bodies.

"Dance with me," Sam said.

So Iris put her hand in his, abandoning her half full, half empty glass of wine on the table, right next to the irises and roses, and danced with him.

"Wise men say only fools rushhhh iiin..."

"You are a terrible singer," Iris giggled in the crook of his neck.

"My cooking makes up for it."

"It sure does, Sammy. It sure does."

They let the music surround them, guide their movements as they swung around, hands caressing each other's body, fingers drawing intricate shapes and paterns over their clothes, lips leaving feathery kisses over necks and jaws, trying to find a way to transfer the intimacy of the moment.

For I can't help

Falling in love with you

"I love you, Iris."

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling so it goes

She sucked in a sharp breath as if she'd been hit — burned. But it had to be the most pleasant burn ever.

Some things

Are meant to be

"You don't have to say it back," Sam murmured. "I wanted to tell you."

"I— I love you too, Sam," she said, tears already streaming down her face.

Not stopping their swaying, Sam pulled back just enough to allow him to take Iris' face in his hands. That's when she noticed that the song still hadn't stopped — or rather, had started over.

"You planned this," she scoffed through her tears, rolling her eyes.

"Damn right I did."

With his thumbs, he wiped away her tears then took his time admiring her. Every detail of her face and entire being.

Elvis kept singing, and they kept swaying.

Emergency mission. Get your asses back to the compound.

The lovely message which pulled both Iris and Sam out of their post coital slumber and forced them to go back to the Avengers headquarters as quick as possible.

Once they arrived, they only had time to make their respective protein shakes as breakfast before Director Fury called them in the conference space. Everyone else was already sat, waiting for Nick to speak up.

"I need you guys sharp on this one. We got the info a few days ago but there was a piece of intel missing from the brief, which I needed to give you guys the green light."

Nick pressed a button and an image appeared on the large touchscreen. Shock took place on some faces, pain on others.

"Oh my God."

"She's alive?!"

"Where is she?"

"For those of you who don't know, this is my second child, and Iris' twin sister."

Eyes still slightly wide, they all stared at Iris' identical twin. They had the same features. While Iris' face was free of scars, Dahlia had a large scar across the face, from the tail of her right eyebrow through the right corner of her mouth, ending at the chin.

"Steve," Iris called.

The super soldier snapped out of his thoughts, tearing his gaze off his ex-lover's face.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Fine."

"Dahlia —"

"What is it with you and flowers?" Wanda asked, genuinely curious.

Nick pinched the bridge of his nose, already annoyed by the wave of questions that was about to submerge him.

"That would be a question for their mother, a question that I, too, would like an answer to."

"Oh, dad, please! You called us Nicky and Nicolette, so I think you can save your rant on names for later," Iris rolled her eyes.

"Wait," Sam interrupted Nick just as he opened his mouth to speak. "I gotta ask, which one's Nicolette?"

Iris narrowed her eyes at him.

"That would be our dear Iris," Tony said.

A stiffled laugh came from the back of the room where Bucky sat, pinching his nose to contain his giggles. Iris raised a brow.

"What you laughing at Buchanan?"

Bucky snapped his mouth shut in a thin line.

"This is a matter of worldwide security, so I'm gonna need you to stop behaving like goddamn children," Nick scolded, giving a pointed look to his daughter. "Dahlia is a compromised former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. She'd joined the ranks of HYDRA long before S.H.I.E.L.D. fell. She's a traitor, that is why you've never heard of her."

"I've seen her before," Wanda's voice was almost a whisper. "With Strucker, during our... experiments."

"But... we saw her in her cell in the Raft. Then she died of a seizure," Natasha said matter-of-factly.

"She escaped a few months ago."

"Told you I should've brought her to Asgard," Thor mumbled.

"A few months ago?!" Iris repeated in disbelief. "Dad, why didn't you say anything?"

"She was invisible to our radars until now. With what remained of the Insight protocols and Stark's tech, we were able to find her only a few days ago."

"Tony, you knew about this?" Steve, who still hadn't said anything until that moment, turned to Tony, lines creasing in his forehead.

"Sorry, Cap. Fury made me swear not to say anything."

"Dad... What's the mission?"

"Dahlia was seen at a facility located on the border between Ukraine and Russia," as Nick spoke, images appeared on the touchscreen next to him. "Packages were sent from this facility to Iraq and Syria. We have reasons to believe that weapons are curated in this facility, using the remains of the Ultron disaster and sent to the Middle East."

"But it's been years since Ultron happened," Clint chipped in. "How could she possibly still have access to Stark tech?"

"Veronica," Bruce blurted. "Veronica and the other satellites. What if she's using Veronica and the drones from the satellites we don't use anymore to create weapons?"

"But how?" Rhodey asked.

"Dahlia's access to all those things was revoked after she got in the Raft, but what if she's using Iris? The older satellites don't require a retinal scan to work, but they do have the same voice."

"Jesus Christ," Iris burried her face in her hands. "Dad. What's the mission?"

"Destroy Dahlia's facility, locate the weapons in the Middle East, get rid of them... Neutralise Dahlia Fury."

"Dad—"

"Two teams. Colonel Rhodes, Barton, Maximoff, Barnes and Romanoff as air support in the Middle East. The rest, in the Ukraine. We don't know how many men exactly but based on our sightings, more than Strucker had in Sokovia. You leave tonight."

Steve immediately walked out of the room, hands balled up in fists, jaw and shoulders tense. The rest of the team did the same, one by one.

"What's his deal?" Sam asked Iris in a hushed tone.

"Him and my sister... They were together. Their relationship was as serious as could be. We never knew what happened to Dahlia, you know? Maybe she was brainwashed, kind of like Bucky, but she still knows who we are... When she was sent to the Raft, Steve was inconsolable, first he hurt her, then he lost her..."

"What? The—" Sam gestured across his face. "He did that to her?"

Iris nodded. "He didn't mean to. The shield bounced off someone and she was in the way. He was furious with himself."

"How about you, baby?" he squeezed her hand. "You okay?"

"To be honest, my dad and I never believed she'd died. Something was off in her death certificate, but we still grieved and moved on, you know," she sighed. "I've got to check on my dad, okay? I'll talk to you later."

She gave him a peck on the lips before strolling down the hall to find Nick.

Iris felt like a building had fallen on top of her. Her heart was already troubled, tugging on two different sides, and now her twin sister, who was supposed to be nothing but ashes in the Atlantic ocean, was a terrorist and very much alive.

In her hand, her phone started to ring, the screen lighting up to display a photo of her fiancé holding their daughter, both smiling at the camera.

***

Tags: @wakanda-inspired

#sam wilson #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson x black woman oc #sam wilson x oc #falcon #falcon fanfiction #captain america fanfiction

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dippedanddripped · 4 years

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This holiday season, the hottest place to shop in Los Angeles won’t be on shoppers’ paradise Rodeo Drive, but in a warehouse in the city’s grubby garment district. That’s where A Current Affair, one of the world’s hottest vintage marketplaces, will be on December 7.

High-end vintage fashion is having an unprecedented moment, and A Current Affair’s founder Richard Wainwright – resolutely shy in his thick-rimmed glasses, patterned button-down shirt and jeans – is right in the middle of it.

Wainwright has the perfect pedigree for vintage – he has degrees in fashion marketing and merchandising from the Fashion Institute of Technology in New York, and in history of art from the University of California, Berkeley.

“Vintage has always played a role in my life,” says Wainwright. “I started collecting at an early age. Back then, we didn’t really have ‘

fast fashion

’ so combining items found at thrift stores and yard sales was both a creative outlet and a practical way to afford clothing [that] my parents wouldn’t otherwise buy me.”

Shoppers trying on items at A Current Affair.

When Wainwright started A Current Affair nine years ago, the event had only 17 exhibitors.

“Today, we are now a community of over 200 sellers popping up in Los Angeles, Brooklyn and the San Francisco Bay Area seven times a year, in addition to trunk shows … and we did an event at [department store] Isetan in Tokyo this autumn. There is nowhere else to shop that compares to A Current Affair,” Wainwright says proudly, describing the marketplace’s clothes as “the best vintage on the planet”.

A vintage look at A Current Affair.

Liz Baca, with her fiancé Michael D’Andrade, is the owner of The Goods, an appointment-only showroom of designer vintage clothes in Los Angeles, and a vendor at A Current Affair.

“The vintage marketplace has exploded,” says Baca. “When I began, people didn’t really understand what I did. Today, everyone sells vintage clothing. It’s become mainstream.”

The world of high-end vintage is not what you get at your local second-hand shop. Instead of costume jewellery, old flannels and luggage from the 1960s, it’s more 19th-century lace gowns, 1920s cocktail dresses adorned with hand-sewn bead work and feathers, and chunky solid gold jewellery from the decadent ’80s.

Band shirts can still be found at A Current Affair, but they might set you back several hundred US dollars.

A vintage fur coat at A Current Affair.

A vintage dress at A Current Affair.The appeal of vintage is wide and varied, and pieces are often one of a kind. The chances of you showing up to a party where someone is wearing the same pencil skirt from the 1940s as you are is almost non-existent. And, because of their age, vintage pieces have a story to tell.

Yes, designer threads tell the world that you have plenty of money, but vintage clothes have history – and the romance of a new couture ball gown pales in comparison to that of a century-old silk.

Anyone who isn’t wearing vintage has a one-dimensional view of fashion, and it reads as flat and boring in today’s over-saturated visual environmentA Current Affair’s founder Richard Wainwright

Common criticisms of vintage clothes – that they show wear and tear or look worn – are seen as something to be proud of by many clothes lovers. The patina of an already cherished garment is something that no amount of chemical treatment or factory distressing can emulate.

Broader economic trends are also at work. Retail is in trouble, and bricks-and-mortar stores are struggling to stay afloat across the board – some fast-fashion brands, such as Forever 21, have already filed for bankruptcy and closed their stores.

Meanwhile, A Current Affair feels vital and packed with shoppers – including fashion icons like Donald Glover – on the day we visited a pop-up in September.

“It feels as if we are the only type of fashion retail that is booming,” says Wainwright. “Everyone complains that retail is dead but our shows are very much alive.”

Why are millennials in Malaysia and Singapore deserting H&M?

While some of the vendors at A Current Affair have shops, the majority conduct their business online, or through rented by-appointment-only show rooms. Vintage doesn’t require bricks-and-mortar stores to stay afloat. Social media, especially platforms like Instagram, have been a godsend for vintage purveyors. Instagram offers a way for sellers to display their wares to their targeted audiences anywhere in the world without significant overheads.

“Fashionable people have always turned to vintage, but in this age of social media there is added pressure to have things that no one else does or to combine things in unique ways,” says Wainwright. “Anyone who isn’t wearing vintage has a one-dimensional view of fashion, and it reads as flat and boring in today’s over-saturated visual environment. ”

Vintage sunglasses at A Current Affair.

Vintage is also a sustainable option in a time when people are increasingly aware of the environmental impact and human toll of fast fashion. It is essentially recycling, without the buyer having to bear responsibility for its sourcing and manufacture. And, even if the piece you buy is originally from a large fashion house, the money you spend goes to small business retailers, not large corporations.

Until recently, the biggest obstacle to vintage overtaking traditional fashion was the Asian market, where online statistics portal Statista expects fashion sales to hit almost US$362 billion this year.

Historically, vintage, at the risk of generalisation, just didn’t check the boxes that many Asian buyers are looking for in status clothes: big name label recognition, bleeding-edge trendiness and price tags that are as jaw-dropping as they are widely known. In China (the largest market by far) there are legal restrictions around importing second-hand clothes. There are even superstitions against wearing vintage – like the belief that wearing a dead person’s clothes will upset the original owner’s ghost.

How a fast-fashion boycott could help save the world

This is changing fast. Japan has long led the way in Asian interest in vintage, with

Tokyo now a mecca for the most dedicated vintage enthusiasts

. This fervour, however, is global. There are major vintage markets in many Asian metropolises, including Bangkok, Beijing, Tokyo and Seoul, that are often considered just as hip as – or even more hip – than big label stores or glitzy shopping districts.

After English, the most commonly spoken language at the A Current Affair pop-up in Los Angeles in September was Mandarin. A Current Affair also hosted its first Asian pop-up event in Tokyo last month, presenting more than 500 vintage pieces curated for the Japanese market to eager crowds in the city’s Shinjuku neighbourhood.

“I have certainly noticed an interest in vintage clothing spread in the Asian markets,” says Baca. “These days, interest there is just as widespread as other markets. I see it only growing bigger.”

A vintage dress at A Current Affair.

The global shift towards vintage over fast fashion in the last few years has been drastic, and is poised to accelerate further still.

New York University business professor Scott Galloway predicted, as reported in the Australian newspaper Sydney Morning Herald last month, that global second-hand clothes sales will overtake fast fashion within nine years – and the numbers bear this out.

In 2018, according to Statista, the American vintage clothing market was worth US$24 billion, compared to US$35 billion for fast fashion. In nine years, analysts expect the second-hand clothes industry to reach US$64 billion, with fast fashion trailing at US$44 billion.

A vintage fur coat at A Current Affair

“Vintage has gone mainstream, especially with the endorsement of celebrities wearing vintage on the red carpet,” says Eddie Paul Friend of Lust and Fond, a California-based vendor at A Current Affair.

Those celebrities – like Zooey Deschanel, Christina Hendricks and Aya Cash – also show off their latest fashion finds on Instagram, where they are as likely to shout out to their favourite vintage shops as they are to their favourite labels.

Even high-fashion icons like Kate Moss have come out as proud vintage shoppers. October saw the release of Musings on Fashion and Style: Museo de la Moda , a book Moss collaborated on that serves as a paean to her favourite vintage pieces and looks.

“The buyer has changed,” says Baca. “Used clothing has become socially acceptable, so now you see all ages, financial backgrounds and races buying vintage clothes.”

This article appeared in the South China Morning Post print edition as: How vintage is fast becoming A Global trend

#japan #vintage #vintage fashion #fashion blog #streetwear blog #urbanwear blog #a current affair

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ineverywordisay · 6 years

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Rules: answer 20 questions, then tag people you want to get to know better

This is giving me old school Myspace vibes which is cool but also makes me feel v old :-D Thanks for the tag, @skinny-latte-with-one!

Nickname(s): Mama Courtney, Penny, Quarter, Crystal, Babylove

Height: 5′4″

Orientation: Straight

Favourite fruit: Strawberries

Favourite season: Spring

Favourite flower: stargazer lily

Favourite scent: Coffee, my husband’s body wash, something baking in my kitchen, a good scented candle (vague sorry, haha)

Favourite colour: red and black

Favourite animal: lions officially but I’m a huge lover of all animals

Coffee, tea or hot chocolate: Coffee is my life’s blood for sure but I do enjoy the others

Average hours of sleep: Usually about 5

Cat person or dog person: Both even though we have 3 cats atm and no dogs (stupid rented townhouse with no yard)

Favourite fictional characters: Oh god the list is endless but my top few without too much thinking: Lois Lane, Felicity Smoak, Supergirl/Kara Zor-El, Hermione Granger, Piper Halliwell, Haley James-Scott, Rose Tyler. I didn’t mean for the list to be all women but hells yeah that it was :-D

Number of blankets you sleep with: sheet, blanket, and comforter all year around. We keep our townhouse like a penguin habitat so we can snuggle in blankets all year around

Dream trip: I have such an endless list of places I want to go and have unfortunately travelled very few places. Ireland, London/England in general, and Italy are top three but I also want to see the Roswell Crash Festival in Roswell, New Mexico. I would love to go to California and Washington. And I am ALWAYS up for another trip to New York City or Disney World in Orlando, FL.

Blog created: Created in fall 2013. Didn’t really know how to use it until fall 2016. Started actually being active in April of 2018

Number of followers: 68

Random fact: The vintage date on a bottle of win indicates the year that the grapes were picked and not the year of bottling.

Other Tumblr friends I would love to learn more about: @leonardodespacito @howellhowlter @imnotinclinedtomaturity @workinprogress91 @knlalla @swissfuckingcheesegdi @merridewhoo @phandumb @glitterydanandphil @natigail @kerasines @phastelpink @auroraphilealis @uselessphillie @voremedan @phillesterandthequiff @lilyphanstuff

#get to know me

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livingthroughchoices-blog · 6 years

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The Marshmallow Chronicles (Ch. 1, Part 2: Once Upon a Time)

Prev | Next

Rating: T

Pairing: Drake x MC

Words: 2,226

“Hey, Drake! Are you ready to go or what? Drake? Drake? Draaaake?” Each time his name was called was punctuated by a shake of the mattress he was sitting on as Maxwell bounced up and down in an attempt to get his attention away from his phone.

“Will saying yes make you stop doing that? Forever?”

“No way, man! What if someday we’re in a life or death situation that requires my bed-jumping skills and I can’t do it because I promised you, huh? What then?”

“Okay, if we’re ever in a ‘life or death’ situation that requires your... skills, you can break your promise.”

“What about party-related–”

“FINE. Just stop it NOW.”

Maxwell caught a glimpse of Drake’s phone from above him. He’d been staring at a contact with the name “Mom” for 10 minutes. He plopped down next to him.

“Hey, is everything okay? You look...” Drake glared at him. “Thoughtful?”

“I’m fine,” he replied shortly, hastily pocketing his phone.

It was the truth. Kind of. He was not not fine, at any rate. Sure, he wouldn’t mind talking to someone about his complicated feelings towards his mom, but Maxwell was definitely not that someone. Ordinarily, Liam would be, but he was not about to ruin his best friend’s bachelor party with his unnecessary family drama. Besides, what use was rehashing it? He’d made his decision and that was that.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” Tariq’s pompous voice shook him out of his reverie.

Drake didn’t bother answering.

They arrived at the dive bar that Drake remembered from his brief college experience ahead of Liam. That pretty boy look he had going on wasn’t effortless. Oh, he made it seem that way, but Liam took almost at long as Tariq to get ready; the only reason the latter had been ready on time was they’d told him they were leaving half an hour earlier than they actually were.

Still, Drake couldn’t blame him: the way the Crown Prince looked mattered, and no one could argue with the results; Liam’s dark eyes and charming smile had men and women positively swooning wherever he went.

“Waitress, there you are. We need your best table!” Drake cringed a little at Tariq’s self-important tone and shot the waitress – a cute, but average girl who seemed a few years younger than them – an apologetic smile.

“Forget the table. Just bring us whiskey, and lots of it.” She smiled back and started to reply when her coworker waved her over. She gestured for them to give her a moment. As the colleagues talked, the manager came up to their group and obsequiously showed them to what he assured them was the best table.

In fact, every table looked pretty much the same. Some of them were booths and others had stools, but they all had identical cracked, brown pleather covers. The walls were plastered in generic sports paraphernalia; team posters, jerseys, black and white team photos. There was a dartboard hanging on the back wall. Funnily enough, all the tables, including the “best” one seemed to be perpetually sticky.

The waitress from earlier came up to them. “Hello, gentlemen. I’ll be taking care of you this evening.”

“Waitress, steaks for the table.”

Drake rolled his eyes. Leave it to royals to be so out of touch... and Maxwell was supposed to be one of the good ones!

“How about some filet mignon, medium rare and prepared with a béarnaise sauce?”

Okay, so maybe Maxwell was one of the good ones, but was Tariq really a good comparison? The bar had never been lower.

“The closest thing we have to filet mignon is the deluxe burger.”

He thought he could detect a hint of amusement in the waitress’ voice. He had been about to jump in and save her from his clueless companions, but now he was curious.

“Dare I ask for your wine list?” Tariq plowed on.

“We’ve got an excellent vintage house red...” The waitress offered with twinkling eyes.

“House red?” spluttered Tariq, as if being offered boxed wine.

“It also comes in white,” she replied unruffled.

Drake sniggered at Tariq’s scandalized expression. “We’ll be fine with a bottle of whiskey... and four deluxe burgers.”

“Four?” Drake nodded and waved at Liam, who had just entered the room behind the waitress. She turned and Drake saw Liam’s already charming smile widen.

“Sorry I’m late. Thank you for you patience, Miss...?”

“Uh, Riley.” He realized he hadn’t even bothered asking for her name. I’m such a jerk. I guess that’s why Liam gets the ladies.

“Charmed to make your acquaintance, Riley.”

“Trust me, the pleasure’s all mine. It’s nice to meet you,” she said this in quick succession, with a nervous smile. “Now let me go put your order in. Be right back!”

She scurried away to the kitchen and Liam took a seat next to Drake.

“Hey, man, what took you so long?”

“Honestly, I was jet-lagged and my 20 minute nap turned into an hour and 20 minutes,” he admitted guiltily.

“Smart, you need all your energy to TEAR UP THE DANCE FLOOR!” Maxwell complemented this last part with wild arm movements that threatened to knock the salt and pepper shakers over. Drake moved them out of harm’s way.

Liam chuckled. “I’m not sure we’re going to a club, actually.”

“WHAT?!”

“Great! My outfit will be all wrong!”

Maxwell and Tariq’s respective complaints came at the same time as the waitress – Riley, she just said it, dude – with their drinks. They all thanked her and waited until she left to resume what was quickly going to become an argument unless Drake intervened.

“Look, shut up, you two. In case you forgot, this is Liam’s bachelor party, so we’re doing whatever he wants, got it? Besides, we went clubbing yesterday.”

“Drake, thank you, but it doesn’t have to be about me. If everyone else wants to go to a club, we can go.”

Maxwell looked like he might be about to agree, but reconsidered when Drake gave him a meaningful look. Liam never really got to do anything he wanted; he deserved this.

“No, no, Drake��s right! I’m uh... all... partied out?”

Drake and Liam snorted at Maxwell’s unconvincing lie, which Liam was nevertheless thankful for.

“Me too! And I’m sure this outfit will be more than acceptable for whichever activity you choose, Liam,” added Tariq.

Riley came back with their food. Drake noticed Liam thanking her much too warmly for his fairly mediocre burger.

“So, Liam, who do you think you’re gonna choose, huh?” Tariq asked, waggling his eyebrows. Drake tried to make eye contact with him and shake his head, to no avail. He felt Liam tense next to him.

“I really don’t know, Tariq. They’re all charming ladies, but there’s so much depending on my decision.” He ran a hand through his hair.

“Well, that’s what the season is for, huh? So don’t worry about that now, man.” Drake calmed him.

“Right, okay, but if you had to choose someone now...” Maxwell trailed off under Drake’s glare, then changed his question, “Not one of the suitors necessarily, just what kind of qualities are you looking for?”

“That’s a great question, Maxwell. I think I’d want someone who’s not afraid to stand up for herself, someone who knows when to be diplomatic and when to be brave, someone I can feel free with...” His eyes were far away, but his gaze had fallen on Riley, Drake saw.

“Yeah, but what about physically?” Tariq interrupted. “Because, for me, Lady Hana–”

“Ooh yeah, Lady Hana’s got it going ON!” enthused Maxwell.

“She’s very beautiful,” agreed Liam.

“Yeah, she ain’t bad, but personally, I think Lady Kiara’s hotter.” Drake jumped in.

“Hotter than Lady Hana?! Are you insane?” Tariq practically yelled.

Liam watched his friends talk about his suitors with a small smile, happy to see them having a lighthearted conversation, for once. Not wanting to think about those particular ladies too much, he excused himself. Drake watched him talking to the waitress and, to his surprise, felt apprehensive. The way Liam was looking at her... he’d never seen him so engaged with any of the ladies in court.

They were waiting for Liam, again. He came out of the restaurant and, oddly, asked them to wait a bit longer. After about 5 minutes, Riley came out, wearing a plain black shirt and jeans.

“Hang on... The waitress is coming with us?” The words had left him before he’d had a chance to think about how much like a dick he sounded.

Liam shot him a questioning look. He definitely wasn’t the only one who thought he came off as a dick, then. “Actually, we’re going with her. She’s picking our next destination.”

“So she’s our tour guide now?” What are you doing?! Stop it! He knew he was being childish, but this was their last night with Liam before everything changed and it was supposed to be a bachelor party, for God’s sake! Of course, everyone knows it’s not a bachelor party till your waitress shows up and tags along! He rolled his eyes.

“Riley was kind enough to agree to show us around. She’s doing us a favor, so play nice.” Liam chided. Drake felt his cheeks heat up with shame and nodded. Riley, however, seemed completely undaunted by his attitude. He took that as a chance to stop acting like an idiot.

“Fine. So, where are we going, then?” He asked this in the general direction of Riley, without addressing her, still embarrassed.

“A secret cove,” she replied with a wide smile.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw both Maxwell and Tariq’s expressions fall; clearly, there would be no dance floor involved in the night’s activities. He, on the other hand, was pleasantly surprised. A night outdoors, off the beaten paths of New York? Sign me up!

Riley delivered. Drake grudgingly said as much when they arrived.

The cove was intimate, peaceful. A small piece of beach was surrounded by cliffs and bordered by a cave. They all automatically looked skyward in awe at the hundreds of visible stars. Under all the twinkling lights and enveloped by the whoosh-ing of the waves, New York could not feel further away.

Drake knew right away what he wanted to do. “We should build a bonfire.”

“I’m not doing manual labor,” Tariq sounded insulted by the very idea.

“Sorry, I forgot who I was talking to. What I meant was, I’ll go build a bonfire.” He preferred doing this sort of thing alone anyway; other people only slowed you down. He looked around for driftwood.

“This place is awesome! SKINNY DIPPING!”

Tariq gasped and averted his eyes. “Keep your pants on, Maxwell.”

Maxwell ignored him and stripped down to his boxers, keeping his shirt on. What a weirdo. He ran to the water, yelling for Drake to join him.

“Not gonna happen.” He went back to looking for driftwood. He found a big pile near the cave and before long, he had a big bonfire going. Maxwell immediately got out of the water, shivering, and warmed himself up, giving Drake a sheepish smile.

Drake heard splashing and turned just in time to see Liam and Riley running into the ocean. He hoped, not for the first time that night, that Liam knew what he was doing. He’s a grown-ass man, dude, relax. He took off his shoes and socks and headed towards the water. The other two followed; Maxwell with a grin, Tariq with a grimace.

“I thought it was ‘not gonna happen’, Drake?” Maxwell asked smugly.

“Shut up, Maxwell,” he replied, though maybe for the first time in this trip, he didn’t mean it.

He splashed Maxwell, which triggered a fierce splashing battle between them, until Maxwell winked at him and directed his biggest splash yet towards Tariq, who was standing at a careful distance.

“Got ya, Tariq!”

Drake doubled over laughing at Tariq’s outraged face and even clapped Maxwell on the back.

“I told you, these shoes are leather!”

“Aw, lighten up, Tariq. You’ve got, what, a hundred pairs?” he asked, wiping tears from his eyes.

The night wound down to a close and, after putting out the bonfire, they started the long walk home. At a certain point, wordlessly, they separated; it was obvious Liam wanted some time alone with Riley.

That didn’t mean he could dodge his friends’ questions when he got back, though.

“So? Did you kiss her?!” Maxwell could not sound more excited if it had been him kissing a pretty girl.

“Forget about that! Did you make love?” asked Tariq suggestively, swinging his hips.

“Okay, first of all, I think I speak for all of us when I say: ew,” deadpanned Drake. “Second of all, it’s been barely 20 minutes, dude, so unless it was the fastest – and probably most terrible – sex in the history of humankind, I highly doubt it.”

Liam laughed and shook his head. “Drake’s right, we didn’t... you know,” he cleared his throat. “In fact, we didn’t even kiss. To be honest, I’d thought maybe we would but...” he shrugged, “I guess I misread the signals.”

“Well, maybe it’s for the best, you know?” Drake put an arm around his best friend. “You don’t wanna get hung up on some girl you’re never gonna see again.”

#trr #drake walker #drake x mc #prince liam #hana lee #maxwell beaumont #tariq #playchoices #choices #pixelberry #fanfic #ch 1 part 2 #mj's fanfic #the marshmallow chronicles #long post

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