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#also Rainbow does the Goofy yell
crissiebaby · 11 months
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DiapOut: Chapter 30
DISCLAIMER: This series contains diaper usage, public humiliation, masturbation, hypermessing, sissification, WAM, mental regression, and other ABDL themes. If you haven’t read the first chapter and want to catch up, be sure to check out the link in the description. I hope you enjoy!
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“Okay, Lelaya! Since the wetters are currently trailing, your team shall roll first,” said CassiRole, handing off one large, six-sided dice block to the Wetter’s eager first player. 
Raising the bullhorn to her mouth, Keelee interjected before Lelaya could make the inaugural roll, “When you roll the dice, make sure to step back so the camera can get a good shot of it!”
Bouncing up and down like an impatient toddler, Lelaya was thrilled that the wait was finally over. She cupped her hands around the single die and shook it around for a few seconds before blowing on it for good luck.
Unfortunately, the amount of time Lelaya was taking to build up her first dice roll wasn’t sitting well with everyone on her team. “Ugh! Jus woll awweady!” shouted Misa, too annoyed by Lelaya’s usual goofy antics that she forgot about her lisp momentarily. Thankfully, the crowd’s uproarious laughter was more than enough to remind her with her cheeks flaring up in response.
“Hold your horses! You know I have a ritual! Now, I have to start over!” responded Lelaya, causing a chorus of sighs to echo between the audience, crew, and players alike as they waited through another round of Lelaya’s lucky technique, “Mama needs a new pair of booties!” She launched her dice forward, letting it roll out onto the painted studio floor. Her cheerful expression faltered as she caught sight of what she rolled.
Curling her lips in to keep from busting a gut, Cassi spoke into her microphone, her voice a little shaky, “A one…pfffft…g-great start, Lelaya.”
“A one?! Afta aww dat?!” yelled Misa, unable to put a lid on her temper as she felt the compulsion to speak out, her heart fluttering a little as the audience laughed at her expense once again. She cupped her mouth with her hand but the damage was done as she was unaware that the hypnosis she had undergone had not only affected her speech but was also taking its toll on her patience and decorum.
Stepping forward as a team, Lelaya and her team stopped on the first, red square at the start of the game board. “The wetters have landed on a red square! You know what that means?!” said Cassi, her attention turning to her live-studio audience as they chanted in unison with her, “It’s punishment time!”
While Lelaya’s teammates grew immediately anxious over what the first of what was to be many punishments was going to be as this would set the bar for the rest of the round. Funny enough, the only person who was anxious was Lelaya, who was getting exactly what she wanted.
“Please direct your attention to the big screen as we figure out what poor Lelaya’s punishment will be,” said Cassi, drawing everyone’s eyes toward the massive monitor that had once displayed the timer for Round Two. On-screen, an animated, rainbow-colored wheel began to spin, going for about five seconds before slowing to a stop and displaying the result in bold, white letters.
Keep Your Hands To Yourself.
“What the hecky does that mean?” said Lelaya, confused by the cryptically cheeky title that was given to her punishment. Her confusion quickly dissipated, though, as one of the Iris bots rolled itself onto the set with a straight jacket neatly folded in its arms.
Watching as the Iris nanny approached Lelaya without so much as a hint of mercy, Cassi was happy to keep her audience up to date with her color commentary. “It means exactly what it says! And there’s no better way for a Little to keep their hands to themselves than by literally forcing them to hug themselves at all times,” she said with sarcasm baked into every word she spoke, something the crowd of onlookers couldn’t get enough of, “Completion of this punishment will earn your team ten additional points. I assume that you accept your punishment?”
“Oh, you bet your booty, I do!,” stated Lelaya boldly, offering herself up willingly to the Iris bot as she lifted her arms up and allowed for the straight jacket to be slipped over her brown t-shirt. She giggled as her robotic nanny made quick work of the long sleeves and various restraining straps, with Iris giving an extra tug on the belt that ran across the underside of her diaper. “Mhmm, this one’s even cozier than the one I have back at home,” she said, wiggling in her straight jacket to test its restrictive limits.
“Well, so much for this being a punishment,” scoffed Cassi, earning another round of jeers from her fans, “Have no fear, though. Lelaya got off easy with this one. We’ve got a lot more up our sleeves than a straight jacket. A deal’s a deal, though! Everyone give Lelaya a big hand!”
Regrouping with her team, Lelaya soaked up the praise that was heaped onto her. The reception of her fellow teammates, sadly, was nowhere close to as enthusiastic, earning a few odd looks from her closest allies. Not that she minded though, smiling contently as the Messers geared up for their first roll of the dice. 
“Alright, guys, I think I can do better than a one,” said Zeke snarkily, spending less time than Lelaya took to roll his dice. He fist-pumped the air as the die settled into place with five dots pointing toward the ceiling. Knowing that red spaces meant punishment, he looked down the board’s trail, breathing a sigh of relief as the fifth space was bright green. The last thing he needed was to give Cassi more ammo against him. However, while he was happy to avoid punishment, he had no idea what green or any of the other primary colored spaces had in store for him.
“Oh boy! Our first green space! That means it's time for our first betting mini-game!” shouted Cassi, garnering more applause as she pulled Zeke aside to explain what was going to happen. “Unlike other events where you complete tasks for set point totals, betting mini-games are your chance to wager your current point total for the chance to take a huge lead. Be careful, though, or you could lose everything.”
With her eyes going wide as dinner plates, Kyoko’s anxiety lurched upward at the thought of being sent back to zero. She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled over to Zeke, remembering to keep her lisp up for the cameras, “Don bet too mush!”
“Hey now, no advice from the sidelines unless you want a timeout,” said Cassi, her tone both humorous and stern as she pointed a finger Kyoko’s way, “Sorry about that, Zeke. As I was saying, you can bet any of the 151.5 points you have at your disposal. How much will you risk for a sweet reward? Before you decide, though, let’s find out what your challenge will be!” Once again, all eyes fell upon the giant monitor as the same rainbow wheel spun with a flourish of vibrant colors before coming to a stop.
Buggy Baby’s Naptime Ride.
“Oooh! Yes! I was hoping to see this challenge pop up! Please follow me,” said Cassi, guiding Zeke across the studio to a cylindrical, glass chamber with cameras all around it that was built into the side of the CassiLand set. Inside the chamber was something tall and metallic, but the dim lighting kept it shrouded in mystery. As Cassi opened the door, the chamber lights turned on, revealing a CrissBaby Walker Pro at the heart of the cornerless room with an Iris bot parked next to it, “Come on in, Zeke. This is going to be your room until your next turn.”
Entering the round, glass box, Zeke could hear his heart racing as he took in the sound-dampening environment, barely able to hear the choir of murmurs emitting from the audience. The Walker Pro was basically a white whale to any AB or DL struggling with income, with its cost running well into the thousands for such a high-tech piece of equipment. He eyed the device hungrily, knowing that soon enough, he’d get the chance to ride the illusive Walker Pro for himself.
“I can see from that look on your face that you are very excited about your challenge. Trust me, by the way, with over fifty settings to play with, the CrissBaby Walker Pro lives up to the hype,” said Cassi, getting through the mandatory ad read before jumping into the juicy aspects of Zeke’s challenge. Meanwhile, a team of two PAs entered the chamber and began attaching bands with jingle bells on them to Zeke’s wrists and ankles, “The basis of Buggy Baby’s Naptime Ride is simple. From now until your next turn, you are going to be locked inside the Walker Pro with a set of jingle bell cuffs attached to each limb. I will then set the Iris bot to Naptime Mode with her audio sensor turned up to its maximum setting and leave you both within this soundproof chamber. Your challenge? Don’t let Iris catch you playing during naptime, or else there will be big consequences. Think you’re up to the challenge? And if so, how much are you gonna wager?”
Nodding his head rapidly, Zeke was already in love with the conceit of his challenge and it hadn’t even started yet. Taking a moment to think, he made eye contact with Kyoko’s pleading expression, reminding himself not to go overboard. “I am! And I’ll bet 20-no! 25 points!”
“Aww, and here I thought you were gonna go all in,” said Cassi, a hollow reverb backing her voice as it echoed out of the soundproof room through the open door, “25 points are on the line, so let’s not waste any time! Walker Pro! Activate!”
In an instant, the Walker Pro came to life with two large mechanical arms spouting out from the side of the walker. The arms quickly homed in on Zeke, who was standing in front of the machine with open arms, ready to be taken into custody by his new robotic overlords. However, as the arms dropped him into his seat, his expression instantly shifted from excitable to one of pure shock.
*BZZZZZZZZZZ!*
“GAH!” screamed Zeke as his body sunk into the stretchy seat at the heart of the Walker Pro. To his surprise, the seat instantly began to vibrate hard as soon as his body came in contact with it, causing a cacophony of jingling bells to sound off as he scrambled to escape the pleasurable sensations that were attacking his body. He stretched his legs toward the ground, finding it impossible to plant both feet without the hidden buzzy toy going frantic. Eventually, he managed to stop the buzzing as he shifted to standing on one leg with his tippy toes fully flexing. It was a painful position to hold but it offered him some momentary relief so he could figure out what was happening.
Luckily for Zeke, Cassi was standing by to explain every blushy detail, “Oops! I forgot to mention! There’s a pressure-sensitive vibrator tucked away in your seat. Don’t worry, it won’t buzz loud enough for Iris to hear it. Just try to keep those pleasure squeals to a minimum. Nanny Iris, please activate Naptime Mode.” She held a finger up to her lips and let out a long, exaggerated shush as she backed out of the doorway to the chamber and promptly shut it behind her, locking Zeke inside. 
Grunting through the shivers of horniness that traveled up his spine, Zeke should’ve known the challenge wouldn’t be as straightforward as Cassi was making it out to be, especially with Cassi at the helm. And judging by her condescending expression, she still had it out for him. His only saving grace was the fact that he only bet 25 points. It wouldn’t be a fun amount of points to 
“Naptime Mode Activated!” said the Iris bot, responding to Cassi's order dutifully, closing its eyes and powering down into a state of rest.
It was all a facade, though. Zeke knew that the moment he made even the slightest noise that Iris would spring back to life, ready to scold him for being such a naughty baby during naptime. And with seven turns to go until his challenge was over, he knew he was gonna be in for a tough ride. Grunting through the shivers of horniness that traveled up his spine, he figured that he should’ve known the challenge wouldn’t be as straightforward as Cassi was making it out to be, especially with Cassi at the helm. And judging by her condescending expression, she still had it out for him. His only saving grace was the fact that he only bet 25 points. It wouldn’t be a fun amount of points to but at least it could be worse.
“We’re only just getting started, folks! Up next is our Baby New Year, Mia!” said Cassi, hyping the audience back up after the lull that came from the time it took to get Zeke’s challenge set, much to Mia’s dismay, “Don’t change that channel! There’s a lot more blushy fun to come!”
Wetters: 156.1 points Messers: 151.7 (+/-25) points
TO BE CONTINUED…
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Edited by AllySmolShork
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skellebonez · 3 years
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i have been laughing for like an hour at that one post about Macaque with hiccups so. what if like. drabble about that with idk prompts number 9 and 72 i guess???
Anon, you have NO IDEA how much I loved this post by @animemoonprincess , I have been wanting to write something using this idea for so long. I just wanted to write silly goofy "Mac can't control his powers when he has hiccups" fic for a while and this was so much fun!
How long have you been standing there?/Don’t you dare.
"And... how long as this been going on?" Pigsy asked, torn between shaking his head in disbelief and worry and holding back laughter at the sight before him. He honestly felt kinda bad for wanting to laugh, but after all the stunts the immortal monkey had put himself and his friends through... he allowed himself a few chuckles.
"Three-hic-HOURS!" Macaque snapped, laying flat on his chest and gripping the sides of the table in front of him with a scowl. "I can't take i-hic-it anymore, you have to have some-hic-thing to make them STOP!"
Each hiccup made Macaque's tail bristle and fluff up, as if each one startled him, and made his glamor glitch awkwardly. If that was the best way to put it.
"Mac, you look miserable," Mei said, holding back her own laughter as she looked up something on her phone.
"I am," he said, uncharacteristic honest for the moment... but then again, it wasn't like he could hide this fact.
"Don't I know that feeling," MK offered in solidarity, patting the immortal monkey on the back and wincing when another stronger hiccup made Macaque jump.
They had all wondered why he was wearing a cloak and avoiding them for the last hour when he finally showed his face, only hearing the hiccups coming from him and seeing the way he jumped ever so slightly with them. He'd stayed as close to light as much as he could, very unusual for himself, and tried to just go about what his initial mission was (which was apparently getting some ice water in the hopes it would help alleviate his symptoms).
And then he has hiccuped just a little too hard at the wrong moment and managed to fall through Sandy's shadow and into the lower levels of the drone ship.
To say they were all grateful the ship wasn't flying at the moment and that he was on the upper level was an understatement... even if he would have survived the fall. Being immortal the way he was.
Right now he was in the ship's kitchen with the rest of their little group (minus Wukong who had seemingly vanished to... wherever it was he liked to hide), gripping the table as stated before to presumably not fall through a misplaced shadow again in the overly brought room, and looking... well...
He was blue. Literally, his hair had turned blue. Then he hiccuped and it became an odd shade that looked like his own mixed with stripes of Wukong's hair color. His eye that had a glamor over it changed color every other hiccup as well, and so did the color of his outfit (though he didn't normally have a glamor over that he couldn't control what glamors were put up or taken down it seemed).
The next hiccup was followed by a soft whimper of frustration as his two ears became six before their eyes. And that... made Pigsy pause.
"Does this hurt you?" Sandy took the initiative to ask, raising an eyebrow of concern.
Whatever laugher was about to bubble up from the group surrounding Macaque paused instantly once he brought up the possibility. MK in particular paused, a look of realization and slight guilt dawning on his face.
"No..." Macaque started slowly, seeming to think over his next words carefully before he sighed in defeat and face planted into the table. "But -hic-... it is very -hic- uncomfortable," the other admitted after, his ears changing color from completely normal to a rainbow on either side. "Imagine feeling the -hic- chest spasms but in what-hic-ever part of your body changes. And it's -hic- really tiring to have my -hic- powers activate like this."
Well... that was actually moderately concerning. Not dangerous sounding, exactly, but Pigsy could imagine how much this was affecting the other when the last hiccup made whatever glamor over the dark circles under his eyes fade away. They all knew that Macaque was hardly sleeping but this...
"Well," Mei said cheerily, jumping up from her seat and waving her phone. "I have a few idea on how we can get rid of these that are less dangerous than finding a rare flower that blooms under very specific circumstances. What have you tried already?"
~
To say they had been unsuccessful was an understement. They’d tried nearly everything they could think of.
Macaque had tried holding his breathe again, breathing exercises, drinking the ice water he had left his room to get. Sandy had suggested compressing his chest with his knees, but that hadn't worked either. Pigsy had brought him some ice to chew on with much the same result.
Mei's idea of eating a lemon slice or swallowing a spoonful of sugar, while creative, were even less well received when they did not work. There were other methods she found online that she immediately vetoed, no one wanted to anger the immortal by attempting to tickle them away (not after his snarled "Don’t you dare.")
MK's attempt at scaring them away was... laughable. Literally, instead of scaring Macaque the young man just sent him into a fit of laughter that only seemed to make him both even more exhausted and grateful for the short bit of amusement.
"Well now what?" Tang asked, checking off each attempt on a sheet of paper. "We've tried almost everything."
Macaque hiccuped again, groaning in exhaustion and covering one of his eyes with his cloak hood up to hide... whatever was on his face he didn't want anyone to see. No one said anything about it, the sight of the other making them just feel too bad for him to push the issue for the moment.
"Maybe if I pass out from -hic- exhaustion they'll stop," he almost slurred, leaning even harder against the table. He had been dealing with this for 4 hours with little to no relief sight. He looked awful. "Just let me pass -hic- out."
"No way!" Pigsy said firmly, helping Mei look up more cures on her phone. "What if they don't stop? You could fall through the floor again and we are not having-!"
Pigsy never got to finish that sentence because one second Macaque was alone at the table looking miserable.
The next Wukong was standing behind him and jabbed two of his fingers on either side of his neck.
"WHAT THE HELL!?" Macaque snapped after a yell of pain, breathing heavy as he clutched his chest and glowered at the Monkey King. "How long have you been standing there, Wukong!?"
"Only long enough to know that all of you didn't see me," Wukong said with a smirk, gesturing with his hand to the other immortal. "Hmn... sounds... awful quiet now... don't you think?"
Macaque paused, a look of confusion crossing his face before he realized... he wasn't hiccuping anymore. He stayed quiet for a moment, everyone did...
And no sound came aside from everyone's breathing.
"That actually worked!" MK shouted in relief, moving to hug Macaque in his excitement before realizing who he was hugging and letting go with an awkward chuckle.
"I know it's been centuries," Wukong said, face softening with a sad smile as his words continued. "But I remembered that worked for you... back then. You could have asked me for help, Mango."
"... yeah... thanks, Peaches," Macaque said slowly, looking at him with an almost suspicious gaze for a moment before he frowned oddly and stood to wander off. "I'm... going back to bed."
The group watched Macaque make his way to the hallway, movements slow and sluggish from his odd endeavor.
"Sleep well!" Mei suddenly shouted after him. "You deserve some rest after that!"
He paused just long enough to nod before heading on his way.
"You gonna explain any of that, Peaches?" Pigsy asked, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. "The heck did you do anyway?"
"Compressed his wind pipe and scared him half to death," Wukong answered with a shrug. "It was the only thing that worked when we were... friends. And no, I don't want to explain. Not until he wants to."
No one said anything to that, just nodded in silent agreement.
When Macaque woke up the glamors were back up and where they used to be... except, Pigsy noted, whatever had originally been concealing the dark circles under his eyes.
He also noted how when Mei asked how he sleept he sounded more honest than he had since joining them.
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epicspheal · 3 years
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Hi again! Just wanted to know your opinion on the Pokemon villains, especially towards a chance of redemption. I think the only villains that kinda got redeemed was Archie and Maxie, learning that what they did was a mistake ( a little too late tho) and maybe Colress ( being the true neutral he is), through the Alola games. But yeah, what's you're opinion on them?
Hi Ihopethisendswell!
I’ve been sitting on this ask for a bit just trying to gather my thoughts. To be honest, the Pokemon Villains are some of my least favorite aspects of the games, mainly because in my opinion they’re rarely handled well (except for original Team Plasma and Team Skull, those guys are amazing and I except no slander of either)
I’ll start with Team Rocket. They have a very basic but realistic evil goal (especially in a setting as fantastic as the world of Pokemon). I honestly can’t say I dislike them. I would like to see more teams using their concept of just taking advantage of Pokemon for profit and selfish reasons rather than trying to tie in some philosophy (because to be honest in my opinion most of the teams who try to use philosophy to justify their extremism just end up looking really stupid for the most part). I like Kanto Team Rocket better than Johto’s plot and Rainbow Rocket was only good for the “what if” aspect and adding to the new multiverse lore. As far as redemption...I don’t think Giovanni or the grunts really deserve it.
For Team Aqua and Team Magma, I actually like them in a “so bad it’s good” type of way (definitely nostalgia based as even though I got into Pokemon during the original anime, I didn’t get to play a main game until  gen 3). Like the idea of having two separate evil teams competing against each other to see who can enact their plans first is a super cool concept in my opinion but wasted on the idiocy of the “expand the land/expand the sea” goals. I will say I enjoyed their Emerald enhanced plot and ORAS’s expansion on them in the Delta Episode. I think the Emerald clash of Kyogre and Groudon was the most logical conclusion to their schemes. As far as redemption goes, I do think Maxie and Archie should’ve served some jail time like Chairman Rose because their plan was just as catastrophic if not more so.
For Team Galactic, ugh. They’re my second least favorite. They were just boring and made an already painfully slow game even more intolerable. This is where I give the Pokemon Anime credit, they made them more interesting in the games and I actually really loved how it was adapted (proof that when they want to the anime can have some really solid writing). Redemption for them? Nope, you literally tried to rewrite the world. Even with Cyrus’ tragic backstory...still nope.
Now for Team Plasma. This is how you do an evil team. Easily one of my favorite teams to actually go up against in game. I like that they actually tried to tackle an ethical question with Pokemon in Team Plasma.  N was a fantastic antagonist and I’m glad he saw the light at the end and he definitely deserves the redemption. And all of the Team Plasma grunts who actually believed in N’s goal deserve redemption. I really enjoyed what they did in BW2 where they had the Plasma House with the misguided former grunts and the confrontation between the old team plasma and Neo Team Plasma about how ostracized the reformed grunts are. Although I don’t like Neo Team Plasma as much (although the outfits are 100 times cooler), it does make sense that the ones still loyal to Ghetsis would try for another attempt. Also it took me a second runthrough of White 2 to really appreciate Colress and his “this is for science” mantra but you know what, I love him. Him and N are really awesome and deserve the redemption. Ghetsis can go jump in a fucking volcano though, him and his followers (:  As for Team Flare, they suffer a lot from not getting a sequel or third version. But like Team Galactic the anime adaptation did a lot of good for them. Team Flare is like Team Aqua/Magma for me in that I think they’re so bad it’s actually good. They actually had some funny dialogue bits and there was actually a lot of potential for them storywise if we had of gotten another Kalos game. The Great War, and AZ all had a lot of potential. Plus having an Elite 4 member working with them? That was more of a twist than Lysandre being the boss. And the Xerosic post-game plot was heartbreaking. Redemption wise though, it’s kind of hard to do with a group who literally tried to nuke the world. 
Team Skull. I love these guys. I love them so much. This is another example for me personally of an evil team done right. I really liked how they weren’t even evil, just frustrated youth who were failed by Alola’s tradition. Like I could seriously go on about how toxic the Alolan community really is if the fact that a child failing the island challenge (a coming of age journey) somehow makes them feel so down about themselves and feel like rejects to the point they join a literal gang to find some sort of belonging (this is of course not talking about the origins of Team Skull being from a disgraced Kahuna who incurred the wrath of the tapus). Like I feel so sorry for them and I wanted to yell at the Kahunas in game for them not recognizing that their traditions were creating the Team Skull problem. Team Skull definitely deserved their redemption as they reformed in the post game
Aether Foundation though, ugh. Easily my least favorite. I really disliked the Aether Family as a whole as I felt they were invasive to the plot and that the focus should’ve been on team skull and how traditions while important can have harmful consequences. I will say it was nice to have female antagonist and I vastly prefer SM Lusamine to USUM Lusamine. USUM Lusamine was more redeemable but she was less interesting and USUM really screws up Lillie’s development which I dislike (which is saying something because I really can’t stand Lillie). 
Team Yell was a disappointment. Honestly there was so much potential because like Team Skull they are a very grounded team (as you can see, I like the grounded in reality teams more so than the philosphical extremist ones). Like I can totally understand why they would form considering how dilapidated Spikemuth is. The issue is that they aren’t given a chance to do much actual evil. Even though Team Skull wasn’t really all that bad, they still did bad things. Which is realistic given their desperation. As desperate as Team Yell was to get Marnie to become champion I was expecting more sabotage and outright hostility. Which while being bad, would be realistic given their situation. That and the fact that no one really calls out the fact the irony of their sabotage actually delegitimizing Marnie’s strengths as a trainer. Like is Marnie truly one of the strongest trainers from the gym challenge or were their people who could’ve beat her who got targeted by Team Yell and ultimately dropped out? Not to mention the implications of ongoing beef between Team Yell and Chairman Rose. Again so much potential wasted. If they had of just made them just a tad more hostile and had someone point out how they were unintentionally making Marnie look bad, they’d easily be one of my favorites.
Macros Cosmos. I think this was the team most screwed over by the plot, and the controversial anime adaptation did them only a few favors. I’ve said this before, but the royal twins historical manipulation plot was more interesting than Rose’s “I’m going to start the Galarian Apocalypse to save Galar” plot. And the sad part is Rose could’ve been a very compelling antagonist. I’ll say that if they really wanted to make Rose an antagonist, they could’ve taken away the Eternatus plot and just used his poor communication skills to cause problems for the gym leaders and champion. A bad boss with impatience and crappy communication skills is something many people can relate to, and I think would’ve been a more interesting plot than trying to force philosophical extremism on to him because.
And lastly the Royal Twins. Man I hated them, but also they’re some of my favorite antagonists. I think people at times look solely at their goofy hairstyles and entitledness and forget how dangerous these two actually were. They had a whole network of spies loyal to them? Imagine a game with them as the main protagonists where it gets to the point you can’t trust the NPCs because who knows which one supports them. Also their historical revision plot is something so relevant today with textbooks being written in a way to minimize horrible atrocities such as the trans-Atlantic slave trade. Granted their plot in game left a lot to be desired, but they had so much potential and honestly a better reasoning to want to awake Eternatus than Rose did. As you can see I prefer the more grounded teams such as Rocket, Plasma, Skull and Yell (in theory) and the Royal Twins given how their goals relate to the real world. I also think in many ways Gamefreak does better with those plots wiriting wise than the philosophical extremist teams. 
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riverleyk · 3 years
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RECOVERED: Lost Mafia Kids files.
Mafia kids: 12 signatures as been my passion project all the way back since high school... like... 6 or 5 years ago? Oh my god... I'm getting old. This dates back to 2018.
CHAPTER 1
My high school years will be memories that I look over with more and more horror as I get older. At the time, I wasn’t afraid and I was too naive to realize the real danger I was in. However, I will never regret what I did. I was only trying to help.
It started with my dad losing his job. My family depended on him financially, my mom never worked too much, my brother, Kevin, was too young to even work, and even if I was old enough to work at the time, I didn’t want to and I felt as though I was allowed not to. Pretty selfish, right? But the minimum wage I could have gotten wouldn’t have helped in this situation; my family used to be rich, but once my dad was fired, we lost all the money and the benefits that came along with it. I assume it’s because my father liked to show off and so we were living above our means.
We moved to the slums of the big city, it was the most dangerous place in the area, but the cheapest. We stopped buying nice things like we used to, now we lived on bare essentials. Kevin took this hard, but I tried to adapt. I went to a new school too. It was the only school in the ghetto closest to our house, but it was infamous for being filled with child delinquents. Not only that, but it was infamously known as the worst school out there, in the poorest neighborhood.
I was so foolish… I really expected to be accepted there. In my old school, I was a bit bullied but I had a large group of friends, and we all got a long great! I was a really social and friendly person, so I wasn’t worried about going and making new friends in this hostile environment, but I was so, so, SO stupid!
From the second I walked in, I was stunned by how diverse it was there, there were few white people, and most of the kids there were racial minorities. I stuck out like a sore thumb… I went to school wearing my favorite rainbow pastel dress, I had even curled my hair and showered before my first day of school! I smelled of flowers and I was so cute looking. That however… That was my first mistake!
The others kids looked dirty… I don’t want to sound mean but they did! Their shirts were covered with stains. They seemed tired and unkempt. It was really a shocking contrast to the private school I went to before, but I tried not to judge. I acted super friendly and nice to everybody I saw. I introduced myself and I did a curtsy, I was so prim and proper!
“Hello there! My name’s Safara Grace, I’m new to this school. How are you?” Is what I’d say, but people seemed to hate me even more.
But not only that… I was white… Pure white. No, I don’t think you understand just how pale my skin is, it looks like I’ve never been outside before. Why? Because I’m an albino! Yes, my skin is pale, my eyes are purple and my hair is bleach white. Every time people see me, they look stunned and ask if I’m faking it. I’ve been dealing with this my whole life. I was born this way. Albinos are so rare, so the best way I can make you understand what my life is like on a daily basis is to make you imagine something…
So imagine you’re a kid… A black kid...going to school, but everybody there is white. They've never seen a black kid before and you are the only black kid around.
Imagine the bullying or the weird stares… Yeah! That’s my life all the time! Except I have no refuge with other albino people like the black kid does, I just have me! Being such a rare trait, I don’t even know another who looks like me… Oh and also, my skin is very irritable to sun light, so I walk around with a parasol all the time.
But anyways, I made no friends. For the first time ever, I was unable to make friends! I was heart broken and confused. I became very lonely. I hated this school so much… Everybody was so different… They hated me because I looked rich and I was so freakishly white. I told myself that the racism against me for being white was justified. I mean, white people were very racist in the past… But I soon stopped when I realized the few other white kids in the school weren’t getting bullied at all! Well… Except for one… I noticed this boy who always did group projects and sat alone at lunch like I did... He never spoke and nobody ever dared talk about him. I started hanging out with him, and I soon learned why…
CHAPTER 2
Yeah, that boy was creepy. He was tall, bone thin skinny, and he had extremely messy dark brown hair, tipped with gold. He was sort of attractive in the “I look almost dead inside but I’m super hot” kind of way. He wore a blue dress shirt with a grey hoodie on top. He was…strange.
He looked so tired with black bags hung under his eyes. His skin was gray and bruised all over. He had this depressing aura that lingered around him. To any normal person, just staring at him would send off red flags and make you stay away. To me though, a desperate and lonely teenage girl, he was perfect.
I quickly understood why everybody stopped bullying me when I started hanging out with him; they pitied me! They used to call me names and shove me into walls, but they stopped when I met him.
One day, a popular girl told me she would be my friend if I stopped hanging out with him. “Uh… why? I’m sorry but this sounds like a trap.” I replied to her, rolling my eyes.
“I know this looks cheap but I’m not kidding…”, she paused, “that guy is NUTS. He’s too weird for such an innocent li'l girl like you. Look, I promise to be nicer and I’ll tell everybody in school that you’re cool, but seriously…not him…hang out with anybody except him…”
“Why? Why is he so crazy to you?” I was so insulted by her pleas.
“Because he’s…he’s… I don’t know what’s wrong with him!”, she yelled at me. “The guy’s a fucking creeper and he’s unstable! Not only that, but rumors around school say that he’s addicted to the worst kinds of drugs, but nobody is even sure of that. Others say he’s mental, but it doesn’t matter what his problem is, he’s gonna rip you apart, Safari!”
“My name is Safara…”, I said in a dead pan tone. All I could do was walk away.
I think I did the right thing in that moment… That girl was a bitch to me. She spread lies around the school about my father and how he lost his job for cheating on my mom. Everybody believed it only because she was popular. I hated her and I wasn’t going to take her advice.
But, no matter how I spin it… She was absolutely right. Bonding with that guy was harder than I thought… More often than not, I felt uncomfortable around him. Getting him to speak was hard enough, he would ignore me and stay silent but when he did talk, it was…
IT WAS SO HARD TO UNDERSTAND HIM! He spoke like an emotionless robot! His tone of voice was this constant bored and tired tone, yet sometimes he’d say a joke or act sarcastic, but it wouldn’t make any sense because he sounded exactly the same as his normal tone!
It took me a whole month to get him to talk to me. I felt bad for pestering him around… I’d force my way into working with him during group projects in class, I’d eat with him at lunch, and I'd hang out with him in the library.
I remember the first time I got him to talk to me. I had opened up my sketch book and tried showing him my clothing designs. He looked at them blankly. He seemed uninterested at most of the drawings.
"They're pretty good.", he said in an uncaring tone.
"Oh...you...like them? For real?" I couldn't help but smile anyway.
“Yeah.” He replied simply. “You’re good.”
"Oh, thank you..." I pointed to my favorite ones. "You see how my dresses are colorful? Well, I do that just cause these days all the clothes are boring and black. I like making my stuff stand out, but I also like pastel colors too."
I assumed he didn't care because he sounded bored. Also he's was a boy. Boys don't like fashion like girls do.
He tilted his head slightly, "Yeah..I can see that.”. He sounded just as lifeless as ever.
I was surprised by this interaction, but after this he seemed to open up to me. He spoke to me about the things his liked; those being science and history, but he still didn’t talk much.
It was funny, because after a while I got used to him. I was able to read his sarcasm from his honesty even if the tone of his voice didn’t give any clues… I was so used to his weirdness that I stopped questioning him about all the bruises he had on his body. Heck, I even forgot that I didn’t know his name!
But luckily, one day he told me it out of the blue. We were in class working on a english oral presentation and we were both writing our parts and then he suddenly looked at me, straight in the eyes and said:
“Dimitrius Atkins.”
“What?”, I replied, not even bothering to look back at him.
“That’s my name. I know your name.” He replied. “But you don’t know mine… a-and that’s not fair.”
“Oh… You’re right! I sort of forgot about asking you after a while.”, I said, surprised. “Dimitrius… That’s an uncommon name..” “Please call me Dimitri though.” He corrected me with a monotone expression. “I don’t like Dimitrius.”
“Oh… why don’t you?”
“It sounds too serious. I’m a goofy guy. It’s not very fitting.”, he said seriously. How ironic.
I just giggled and went back to work.
From then on, we sort of became friends. The more he spoke, the more concern grew in me. He wasn’t crazy like everybody said he was, but there was something wrong with him.
He showed up to school with blood stains on his sleeves and scars all over him sometimes. I can’t forget the time he showed up to class late… He limped over to his desk, bruises all over his hands and he had a black eye. That was my wake up call. After that, I started noticing more.
I guess the first thing was his sarcasm. I assumed it was sarcasm.
“Hey Dimitri, what’s up!?”, I’d say excitedly.
“No… He’s not here right now.”, he’d reply.
Or other nonsensical replies.
“Hey Dimitri, for the project, do you want me to write the introduction or should I do the conclusion?”
“No, Safara, the world won’t have a conclusion.”, he said blankly.
“Dimitri, I mean the project!”, I exclaimed. “What are you talking about?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.” He said looking away from me.
These sort of situations would come out of nowhere. Like I said, I thought it was him being sarcastic or making jokes, but the more we talked, the more I realized: he wasn’t joking. He was giving me these nonsense answers because he thought they were appropriate but it just made no sense…
I asked my mother, a psychologist, about it. I told her everything about him.
“Oh Safara… Your friend sounds like he’s mentally ill.”, she answered with concern in her eyes.
“You sure? I know he’s weird but…”
“Safara, this sounds serious. Maybe you should invite him over someday… I would love to talk to him.”
“Ok mom, I will.” I told her.
CHAPTER 3
The day after, I went to school with a mission. I was going to invite Dimitri to my house! I was so anxious about it that my legs were fidgeting all day.
I saw him sitting at his usual spot, alone in the library, reading a book about robotics like he always did. His hair was combed that day, he looked good for once! Well, looking good for him is pretty easy. He just has to look like he wasn't beat up 10 minutes ago and had washed his hair in the past 20 years.
I walked over to him, and Dimitri greeted me!
“Hey there, angel girl.”, he quietly said. He sounded tired.
I was caught off guard. Was he complimenting me? I sat down next to him.
“Hey there. So…do you want to go out?”, I said jokingly. I wanted to see him get flustered. I was pretty disappointed when he just nodded and continued reading. I think I may have spotted his cheeks get a little flushed, however.
“No, I mean, do you want to eat dinner with my family this weekend?”
“No.” He said dryly.
“Oh… Do you want to hang out this weekend?” I tried again.
“Sure.”
“At my house?”
“No.”
“Then where do you want to hang out?”, I snapped at him impatiently. I was shushed by the librarian.
“At the park.”, he whispered back.
“Oh. Cool.” I was a bit surprised. I didn’t know there was a park near by. “See ya there then.”
“Bye.” He waved at me and very obviously forced a smile. “Dimitri... I’m not leaving.” I laughed quietly but the librarian heard it. He promptly kicked me out of the library.
I got up and walked out.
“Bye again.”, he said while waving at me. This time his smile seemed more genuine, which hurt me a lot.
I muttered curse words under my breath and walked out embarrassed. My mission was a failure, but I was going to meet him at the park that Friday after school, so I felt proud either way.
Friday night finally came. The wait was unbearable. We met outside of the school. He gave a look, but it was more like a blank stare. He gave me a signal to walk over to him. Once I was close to him, he said carefully,
“Watch out for people who follow us. The park is safe but the path there is dangerous.”
I was unsure of how to reply so I just nodded. He put up his hood and lead the way. I followed him, walking by his side, trying not to get my parasol in the way. I tried to make small talk, but he stayed mostly quiet.
He asked me about my family, so I told him why I moved here.
“That’s too bad.”. He sounded careless, like he didn’t mean it. “This place is a bad place to live in.”
“I… Yeah…”. I agreed with him but I felt bad doing so, knowing that he lived here.
Looking around me, I saw trash all over the streets. People weren’t dressed as well as they used to be back in my previous neighborhood. People looked tired or overworked. There were hobos all over the place. Not to mention the buildings looked old and worn down.
“This place is so different from where I used to live.”, I told him.
“This is what poverty looks like.”, he said bluntly, “everybody here is suffering.”
“I know…”. I was hurt just seeing it all. I felt so sad for these people. “I want to help them.”
“Don’t.”
“W-why not?”. I stammered over my words, shocked by his apathy.
“They just take and take. They will never get out of this.”. He looked at me blankly. “Nobody gets out of poverty once they fall into it.”
“But… what about me?!”, I said, insulted.
“Start getting a job. Save up.”. He looked around behind his shoulder. “You can dream too.”
I stopped talking to him until we reached the park. I didn’t like him being so mean but what he said had truth to it.
The park was surprisingly isolated. It was full of trees and trash littered the ground. It was peaceful and it looked like a forest with hiking trails.
“You like to walk?”, he asked emotionlessly.
“Yes, and I love nature too.”, I said smiling, pleasantly surprised by the beauty of the park. “There’s a lot of trash here but it’s still nice to have a forest in the middle of the city.”
“That’s good.”, he replied, “nobody likes to come here…”
“Oh? Why not? It’s so pretty!”
“Um… well.”, he started, “there was once a big mafia that was running this part of the city. They committed many crimes. This park used to be popular for kids in the summer, but then they realized that the mafia was burying their victims here…. A police investigation was launched and they dug up over 22 bodies…”
“Oh my god…”, I whispered.
“Exactly.” He nodded. “People weren’t allowed in during the investigation…but once it was over, people didn’t want to come back in here. I’ve only ever seen one other guy here.” “They are afraid… and for good reason.”
“And nobody wants to buy this land cause it’s “haunted” apparently.” He forces a small laugh like it’s funny. “I’ve been here a lot and I haven’t seen anything here.”
“Well… heh… I can’t say I’m exactly too thrilled to take a stroll in here now.” I joked even though it was half true.
He didn’t reply. He just started walking. We walked in silence for a bit. It was making me feel really uncomfortable. I started looking around the forest. We could still hear the cars whooshing past us, as the streets were just behind the tree line, but as we walked further and further away, the sound faded.
I felt at peace, listening to the rustle of the wind in the leaves and the birds in the trees.
As a city girl, I don’t go to forest that often. My closest experience to animals are the bird feeders in my back yard and the squirrels. This walk was giving me nostalgic memories of the times I went camping.
I turns to look at what was to my left and I jumped a bit, seeing Dimitri besides me was startling as he was so quiet I forgot he was there. Though now, I was staring at him…. subtly! So he wouldn’t notice… I spotted a couple of bruises on his hands, neck and a faded scar on his cheek. Now that I was up close to him, I could see there was a lot more signs of injuries on him then I had previously thought.
“Hey Dimitri…”, I mumbled to him timidly.
He almost robotically turned to look at me. “Yeah?”
“Sorry for asking this… It might be personal. Why do you have a lot of bruises on your skin?”, I asked him. Instantly regretting the invasive question, I stammered out another sentence. “It’s nosey of me, I know, but it’s a hard detail to miss. It’s concerning…”
He went back to looking in front of him. He didn’t reply for a solid minute. The silence and wait was unbearable.
“I just get into a lot of fights.” He answered simply.
“But how?” My interest was peaked.
“Well you know… it’s a bad neighborhood. Gangs are everywhere.” He turned to look at me. “You better be careful.”
The words lingered in my head, sending a chill down my spine. The way he said it, cold and uncaringly, sent implications that were not spoken. Was he…threatening to attack me? Or was he warning me of other people doing so? He creeped me out.
“T-thanks… I will.”
Finally we reached a small river that ran along through the city and this park. We stopped and Dimitri told me a story about how a kid drowned in it. He’s not a very cheerful guy but I tried to ignore it…
We sat along the edge of the river. There were ducks passing by. Dimitri pulled a whole loaf of bread out of his back pack and handed me a few slices.
“Do you always carry around bread in your bag?” I laughed.
“Yep.” He said throwing a piece of bread into the water.
I laughed even harder. “So you do this often?”
“Yep.”
A pack of ducks were gathered around us now, fighting over the pieces of bread we were tossing into the water. We fed the ducks together while chatting. Eventually the topic of family came up.
“Well… I have a little brother. He’s a little brat. What about you?”, I asked.
“I’m a single child.”, he said, concentrated on the ducks.
“Aw, that must be lonely, isn’t it?”
“It is… But not because of my lack of siblings.”, he answered robotically.
“Oh how so?” I was probing for more information.
“Well I don’t have a father… Um… no. I do have a dad, he’s just not around much at all. And my mom? I avoid her.” He said hesitantly.
“Why is your dad gone? Why do you avoid your mom?”, I asked, concerned for him.
He forced a smile and looked at me. “No. Everything is fine.”
“Dimitri…” I gave him my “I know you’re lying to me” face and his smile faded away back to his neutral expression.
“My mom isn’t a nice woman… And my dad is in prison.”
“Oh… I’m sorry.” I felt bad for pushing him to say it.
But a thought clicked in my head. He came to school everyday with bruises and cuts and he admitted that his mother wasn’t “nice”. Was this abuse?
“D-Dimitri… does your mom hurt?” I questioned.
“No.” He said simply.
“But you-”
“No.” he said a bit louder. “She doesn’t like me. But she doesn’t not like me either.” He said calmly. “Now stop asking me crappy questions.”
“I’m sorry…”
“It’s ok. I forgive you.”
We finished the bread and the ducks looked satisfied. They swam off and we walked off. He chatted a little back to the streets. I offered Dimitri the dinner invitation again and he accepted. We scheduled it, and I went home.
CHAPTER 4
It was the big day! Dimitri was gonna come over, we were going to hang out, eat dinner and somehow I’d persuade him to talk to my mom so she could figure out what was wrong with him.
I know I sound weird, trying to stalk him and get him diagnosed by my mom, but I obsessively want to help people and sometimes I take it too far. This is one of those times.
Dimitri showed up at our door. He was wearing a blue dress shirt and his hair was combed but still messy. He had a black eye and a bloody nose. He didn’t seemed fazed by it at all.
My brother heared the knocking first, unknowing of what our guest would look like. To his surprise, he was met by a disheveled young man at our door, standing like nothing was the matter. All he could do was stare.
Dimitri was so shy he didn’t say anything, just bleeding out of his nose. The blood was dripping down his face and leaking down his neck. He had just been seriously punched in the face, but my brother was too choked up and confused to know what to do.
“What the fuck happened to you!?”, Kevin yelled in disgust.
“I um..” He stammered. “I was mugged before coming here…”
Kevin just gave him a look of astonishment and ran into the kitchen to call for our mother.
Dimitri just let himself in. At that point I had heard the commotion and promptly came down the stairs. I froze up, seeing Dimitri bleeding like that.
“Hi Safara!” He waved cheerfully to me.
My mother came rushing in and bombarded the boy with questions, giving him a towel for his nose and a wet rag for his eye.
Dimitri seemed oddly perky. Usually, he was emotionless, making him come across as bored or slightly annoyed with everything. However, now he seemed to have a hint of happiness in his demeanor. I won’t ever complain about Dimitri being actually happy for once, but it was so different from his normal self that it weirded me out.
My mother, brother and I gave him a lot of attention while trying to help his wounds heal. He just sat there and gave us a small smile. He was giggling randomly from time to time. He seemed to be really enjoying himself even thought nothing much was happening.
“So what happened to you, eh?” Kevin asked.
“Oh... I was walking over here from my house. I was taking the back roads to avoid the traffic.” He started to explain.
“Back roads? Traffic? You were walking! How could there be traffic?” Kevin interrupted.
“I don’t like the big streets with too many cars…” He snarled. “Anyways… I passed by an alley way when a sketchy little girl jumped in front of me. She said something about me needing to go somewhere with her to meet somebody and to learn “about the past.” But I didn’t want to be late so I “kindly explained” to her that I needed to be somewhere and she got “upset” with me. Then, she punched me in the face and walked off.”
“That’s… odd.” I interjected. “Are you ok though?”
“Well I’m here aren’t I?” He smiles brightly.
I was just more unnerved. This was too out of character for him… But I tried to ignore it.
Dimitri was popular with my family. My dad and him made jokes together. My brother and him ran off to play video games. (By the way, he sucks at gaming. I would haven’t guessed he’d be terrible…)
My mother approached me.
“Safara, you said he was off, but he doesn’t seem like it now.”
“I know but he’s never acted like this before. He’s usually cold and apathetic to everything.” I turned to face her. “He’s like emotionless all the time and the other kids at school say he’s crazy and talks to himself. I don’t get it! He’s the complete opposite to how he asks at school.”
My mother just stared at me for a moment. “Have you noticed that he was giggling at nothing earlier?”
“Yes?”
“He’s high.” She said with a really serious tone.
“WHAT?” I gasped.
“QUIET! It’s only a guess… But I’ve seen this behavior before. He doesn’t have any redness in the eyes, though… So I don’t know what it is that he’s on. Oh, but there's also other factors. Maybe at school, he’s just really depressed and outside of school he feels more free to open up?” She hypothesized.
“That can’t be it. When we went to the park, he was acting the same.” I argued.
“Well then.” She rolled her eyes. “We should let him get comfortable and then we can get our improv therapy session, but only if he cooperates.”
The night went on. Dimitri's enthusiasm diminished so much so during the night that he was back to his emotionless self when dinner came around. He was so quiet that my family ignored him for the whole supper. He was extremely shy. I tried to talk to him but he would only nod his head in response to anything.
After dinner, he and I went up to my room. I gave him a “grand tour” which mainly consisted of me showing him my stuff and him just listening. He was barely talking. I felt bad.
“Dimitri… are you ok?”
He just nodded meekly.
“It’s ok if you aren’t. Do you want to go home?” I asked him, sitting down on my bed.
Dimitri sat down next to me. I started getting nervous and my heart was beating fast. He was so close to me I could feel his body heat radiating.
“No… I like it here a lot. Your new house is very lovely, Safara.” He answered quietly.
My heart started pumping faster. I was my shot to convince him to talk to my mother. I had to ask him!
“So Dimitri…”
“Yes!?” He interrupted me suddenly.
“My mom is a psychologist and I know you have some problems… I was wondering if maybe you could talk to her and she could help you, like a therapy session. You wanna try it?”
He just blankly stared at me. His face was draining of blood and he was losing color.
“Yeah… but she won’t talk to you about it, right?”
“Oh no! That would be breaking the confidentiality rules! She won’t tell me anything. Even if I asked her, she’s very serious about her job.”
“Uh… ok. But not now…” He hesitated.
“Oh that's alright.” I leaned over to put my head on his shoulder.
I felt him shutter from the touch but he didn’t move away from it. He posed his head on mine and we sat like this for a while. It was peaceful and warm. I closed my eyes and held his hand. His palms were sweaty and he was trembling a bit.
“Do you mind?” I asked.
“No.” He answered.
“Good.” I held his hand tightly.
“I d-didn’t think this was a date.” He stammered.
“It’s not…”
“Then why are you doi- holdi- uh… UMM-”
“Sorry.” I back away and let go. “I’m just a huggy person. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I’m just…” he shivers a bit. “Not used to getting touched affectionately.”
“Oh Dimitri.” I giggled. “I don’t really consider this affection, I just think of hugs as casual things friends do.”
“Oh ok.” He replied.
We watched a little bit of TV, not saying much. After the episode ended, He got up and walked out. I thought he was going to the bathroom and he’d come back quickly but he never did.
After 20 minutes, I left the room and looked around.
Kevin was in the kitchen, sneaking cookies out of my parents’ secret spot for them.
“Hey bro, where’s Dimi?” I asked him, taking a cookie for myself.
“He’shh- wiff mom.” He said, mouth utterly stuffed with cookies.
“Thanks.” I put the cookies away and I went back to my room to wait for him.
I think Dimitri stayed there for 2 hours. I was watching the TV for a ridiculously long time. When he did come back, he looked drained.
“Sorry about that. I was expecting a little chat but I couldn’t shut myself up so I started ranting for a while.” He explained.
“Oh it’s ok. It is therapy.” I excused him.
He smiled and hugged me. I was taken aback but I held him tightly. I could feel his body. He was so frail and skinny under those clothes. It was calming for that half a second we that were close.
Then he left.
I felt so lonely with him gone.
But then I realized…
“SHIT! WE SHOULD HAVE GIVEN HIM A RIDE HOME!”
CHAPTER 5
Nothing changed much at school. Dimitri was his typical robot self. There is one thing that was very welcomed though… Dimitri seemed to be forcing himself to act more. He would talk with more hand gestures and smiles (but his smiles were very awkward looking because he was forcing them).
Dimitri also became really friendly with my family. He would come over once a week after his first session with my mother. She really liked talking to him.
Neither Dimitri or my mother told me what they would talk about, but I knew it was serious. She would walk around with her note book after the sessions and often times, she’d be the one to invite him over.
One day, I knew something was up. She sat me down to talk about him.
“Safara, what has he told you about his life?” She asked me with a sternness in her voice.
“Not much…” Then I repeated all that he told me.
“I see. He is trying to hide it…” She flipped through her notes. “I can’t tell you much, with out his consent, but Dimitri allowed me to tell you this yesterday.”
“Oh…” I could feel that what she was about to say really important.
She looked me dead in the eyes and straightened her glasses. “He’s been diagnosed with schizophrenia when he was 15 years old.”
A wave of shock zipped through my body. I was speechless.
“He has vivid hallucinations. Safara, that’s why he acts emotionless.” She told me.
“But what about when he comes here and acts all… alive?” I asked, completely baffled.
“That I don’t know.” She sighed. “But Safara, I want you to be extremely careful with him.”
“I am!”
“No… just…” She smiles at me. “Please keep being nice to him. You mean a lot to him.”
I blushed and nodded.
“That’s all I’m allowed to say. You should try to talk to him about his issues. He trusts you to keep these a secret, however. You got that, right?”
“Yes mother, I understand.” I got up to leave.
“Wait! I forgot to mention something.”
I sat back down.
“Would you mind if Dimitri lived with us?” She asked me.
My eyes widened. “You aren’t serious, are you?”
“I am. He has a bad home life, and I know that one of the only ways he can get better is by having a better family, so I asked him if could move in with us. It will be temporary, like maybe a few months or so.” She explained, justifying her decision. “I’ve already spoken to your father about this and he agrees. Dimitri wouldn’t be that huge of an addition to the family, we’d just need more food and that’s it.”
“Oh I don’t mind but don’t adopt him, ok? It would be weird to have a brother that looks so different from us.” I joked.
“Oh but that's what adoption is all about, sweetie! And he isn’t that different from us. I mean you are the most different of us all.” She touched my hair and poked my cheek, giggling the whole time.
This gesture really annoyed me. “...Thanks mom. But also, I just don’t want another brother. Kevin is enough of a brat as it is.”
“Dimitri’s a sweet young man” She said as she was getting up. “Anyways, I’m going to tell Kevin the news.”
I went back up to my room and I could hear my li'l bro wailing down stairs. He cried, “BUT THAT’S TOO MANY PEEEEOPLE!”. I snickered to myself.
CHAPTER 6
Dimitri came up to me at school the next day. He asked me if my mom told me the stuff and about the “news”.
“Oh. I’m so happy to be moving in with you.” He forced a smile but still sounded monotone.
“Me too! We’d get to hang out all the time!” I hugged him from excitement.
Dimitri grabbed me and spun around with me in his arms. He gently put me down. I looked up at him, confused but I saw a genuine smile on his face and my heart melted.
Dimitri being HAPPY is the cutest thing ever.
“Sorry. I’m just so excited.” He shook my hand for some reason. “I’ve just always wanted to leave home.”
“Oh… why?” I asked with concern.
“Well uh… Never mind!” He suddenly laughed awkwardly. “But yeah I’ll tell you in private. By the way, I’m sleeping in your basement.
“I’m really happy for you though.” I held his hand as we walked off to class. I didn’t care if the other students were watching. Dimitri seemingly lost his enthusiasm and got really quiet after that.
CHAPTER 7
Moving Dimitri into our basement wasn’t that hard and it didn’t take long. All he had was trash bags full of his clothes, a box that was full to the brim, labelled “parts”, and a mattress he used as a bed. All we did was put his stuff down and he organized it by himself.
Two hours later, he went up to my room. “Want a room tour, Saf?”
“Sure!” I went down the stairs alongside him.
His bed was just a mattress on the floor with a pillow and blanket. There was a desk that was particularly lacking the normal desk-clutter, and a simple wooden chair. My parents emptied out a shelf and he put his clothes there. There were no doors on the shelf so I could see his shirts, pants, and (Oh my gosh!) boxers! (Is it pervert to stare at a guy’s underpants??? It made me super uncomfortable to see those!)
Dimitri’s box of parts was untouched in the corner. All in all, the room was pretty small but it still had looked like he barely filled it. I walked over to his box and pointed at it.
“Need help unpacking this?” I asked.
“Oh!” He stared. “No. Don’t touch that, it’s fragile.”
“Ok, sorry.” I said. “So how do you like your new crib?”
“Super cool. I never really cared for the decorations, as long as it’s warm and I can eat and sleep, I’ll be fine.”
“Neat. So what now?” I asked.
He scratched his chin and looked up. “I don’t know. Want to watch a movie?”
“Sure! I just got a new horror movie from the store. I think it’s a slasher flick of something. I got it for my brother but he was too scared to watch it. I’m not a fan of those movies but I liked to get scared every once in a while. What do ya' say?”
He just went flush red and became really quiet. “Oh uh…” He scratched the back of his head. “Um… Ok.”
“What? You don’t like horror?” I asked, seeing how uncomfortable he was.
“N- I do like that. Let’s watch it.” His smile was meant to reassure me but it was so obvious it was forced.
So we went to my room to watch the movie. I really embarrassed with how much I yelped at each jump scare. Oh, and how I needed to cover my eyes during the violent scenes! Though, Dimitri barely had reaction. He was blushing from ear to ear and biting his lower lip. He would flinch during the fight scenes but, yeah. That was it. I thought he would be judging me for being a wimp! But half way through he got up and left, so I finished without him.
A hour later, I went downstairs to his room. I knocked on the door and he yelled. “It’s unlocked.” I walked in to see him fiddling around with metallic parts and tools. I approached cautiously.
“What are you doing?” I questioned, tilting my head to the side.
“Tinkering.” He replied expressionlessly.
I watched him open up the box to pull a toy robot he was going to disassemble. He leaned over to take a screw driver and started to remove pieces from the toy.
I leaned over to get a closer look. “Why are you breaking it?”
“I’m not breaking it.” He replied calmly. “I’m taking it apart… and rebuilding it.”
“Oh, why?”
“Well, it helps me understand how it’s made and the techniques they used.”
“Oh that sounds neat. You like making robots?” I asked him, overly interested in what he was doing.
I sat down next to him. He just looked at me and said nothing. I think he was confused but yet again, he had no emotion. Just his regular expressionless glare. His eyes felt like they were piercing deep into my soul… those glass-like, grayish-blue eyes. They creeped me out.
“Tell me about your robots, Dimitrius.” I muttered. “I’m curious…”
He raised an eye brow for a second but then went back to tinkering.
“So I like making stuff with my hands… Though, I have a whole system for it.” he paused and looked at me again. “You don’t mind me rambling?”
“Oh, Dimitri...you barely talk. I like your voice! Go ahead.” I encouraged him to go on.
“So uh…” he forced a smile. It was so cute. “I like making my own custom robots for tournaments and stuff, but I’m not that good at making my own parts, so I take them from other bots that I buy.”
I listened, completely fascinated in it. His voice was monotone and boring but he sounded calm. As he went on, there was a hint of happiness with him being able to talk about his passion.
“I take them apart then I rebuild them.” He continued. “...W-with out instruction manuals. The point is to know the purpose of all the parts, where they go, and how they work. I repeat breaking them down and building them back up again until I know the bots perfectly.”
“Is it time consuming?” I tilted my head and picked up one of his tools.
“It is but it depends on how complex the model is. Though, once I understand the bot perfectly, I can take its pieces and use them to make my own bot… or if I like the robot, I mod them to make them more efficient or stronger. Whatever I feel like doing to it, basically.” He took the piece from my hand. “This is a screw driver….”
“Oh my god! You think I didn’t know what a screw driver was!” I laughed at him but I stopped when I saw that he looked nervous.
“Sorry, Dimitri. I like what you do with the robots. It’s really cool.”
“Thank you…” He replied timidly.
Suddenly the door opened, and someone appeared from the newly escaping light. Dad. He sternly yelled, “SAFARA! IT’S BED TIME.”
I called back to him, "I'M COMING, ONE SECOND!". I gave Dimitri a hug.
“Good night, Dimi!”, I said as I was running up the stairs.
Dimitri just stares at dad, mouth agape. His cheeks were the reddest I've ever seen. “Y-you too, angel…” He stammered and muttered.
SIDE CHAPTER 1
-MONSTERS-
A woman paced around the room and stopped in front of a mirror hung up on the wall, putting on a pearl necklace. She grabbed a comb and brushed over the bangs of her long, silky, brown hair. She was very tall and slim. Like a stick, she adorned barely any curves. As she stared at herself in the mirror, she smiled. She was all dressed up in all of her best clothes.
A man walked into her room. He was smiling. Wearing a suit with a green tie, matching with the color of his eyes. He was giving a piggy back ride to his son, a cute little boy with short blond hair.
The woman walked up to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“Are you two ready to go to church?”, she asked with her sing song voice.
“Of course.”, the man replied with a wink and smile. “How’s his outfit?”
The lady examined her son’s clothing then she nodded.
“Yes, it’s good.” She walked out. “Come along now! We don’t want to be late for our lord.”
Behind her back, the man rolled his eyes and put his son down. Once on the ground, the toddler stumbled toward the front door.
The car ride over to the church was pretty uneventful. The little boy wasn’t listening to his parents bickering in the front, he was fascinated by the trees rolling by, yet the clouds being seemingly suspended and frozen in the sky. He held out his hands and tried to grab the birds, freely flying across the beautiful blue sky.
Once inside the church, the little boy held his mother’s hand and followed her. The outside of the church was colossal and grand. It towered over the little boy. A statue stood over the entrance. It was of winged humans saving Earth's people from certain doom while the rest had already met their demise. They all wore faces filled with utter terror, as they were burning and being eaten by horrifying monsters. Each time the boy saw this statue, he’d start to cry and his parents would scold him for it. This time would be different! He put on his brave face and stared down the statue as he walked in, but he held back the tears. His mother and father didn’t notice.
Once inside, he thought he was going to have an easier time, but he had forgotten that inside there were monsters here too. Big paintings of the monsters were hung on the walls. Luckily, they were much less scary than the statue.
They sat down and listened to a man in a robe speak. The boy was so bored that he fell asleep, lying his head down on his father’s lap. Each time they needed to stand or sing songs, his mother would elbow him really hard in the shoulder to wake him up. It always happened like this. He’s come home with bruise on his shoulder and it didn’t matter where he sat, his parents forced him to sit in the middle of them so that they could watch his behavior better. He was used to it by now, but sometimes he’d cry on the way back home. He wasn’t allowed to cry at church, people would stare.
He was ecstatic it when they sang the songs, though. He loved to sing. He'd yell out the lyrics of the hymns as loud as he could so he could drown out all the other voices. It was the point of the game for him.
Eventually, his mother took his hand and walked up to the display area. He was confused, they only let people walk up there to get the bread and wine. He wasn’t allowed to go up there because he didn’t have his First Holy Communion yet…
She picked up him in her arms. He was heavy since he wasn’t exactly her little baby anymore, but she could still manage. While in her arms, he stared back at the crowd. Everybody was staring at him and her. He felt a pressure build up in his chest and he wanted to run but he couldn’t. She was holding on too tightly.
He stared up at the wall that was behind the crowd, it had a massive painting of a winged human with a shiny circle around their head. They were impaling a red monster with big horns and a tail. It was like the statue but, much more scary and gruesome!
He felt tears welling up in his eyes and he squirmed to get away. Suddenly, his mom lowered him and submerged his head under water. The few seconds he spent under there felt like an hour, but he was soon pulled out.
He coughed violently for a while after. The pastor gave him a speech he could barely hear or focus on.
The car ride home was terrible. He was so scared of the monsters and confused by the water. He sobbed quietly, trying not to bother his parents who were still bickering to each other.
CHAPTER 8
Dimitri became accustomed to living with us after 3 weeks of residing here. However, he was really weird about being seen with me outside of the house. I took the bus to school but he’d still walk there. When he did take the bus, he would avoid me like the plague and get off at completely random stops.
It was obvious that he was paranoid. Constantly looking over his shoulder, keeping a distance from people when he could, and when he had to be around people, he had his hood up and ignored everyone. Being invisible was his goal. I hated it.
He was hiding something from me.
Thursday night, after school. Dimitri went to the basement and I went to my room. I was finishing up my homework when I got stumped by a math problem. I went down to see him, hoping he could help me out.
I slowly crept down the stairs to his room. I caught him at his desk working on robots and wearing glasses. I rarely ever see him wear them, but I really liked them. It made him look so sophisticated and intelligent. He was already really smart, but it made him look the part too.
He looked up at me as I got closer.
“What’s up, angel girl?” He asked.
I giggled. “Oh, why do you keep calling me that?”
“Because you are an angel.” He smiled.
My heart melted. Usually, he was so robotic in his actions and speech but it was so cute to see him smile with out forcing it.
I pulled up a chair and sat next to him. I asked him for help with the homework and he effortlessly solved it, and then taught me the process step-by-step. He was much more help than the teacher was. After we solved that one, we just kept going through all of the other questions I didn't get.
After that was done, I didn’t want to leave him just yet. I liked his company.
“Hey Dimitri… Thank you.” I hugged him.
He didn’t say anything, he just gave me a small smile and nodded. He put his arms around me and I felt his heart beating fast in his chest. I let go of him after a few seconds.
“I was wondering though…” I began to explain to him that I thought weird to be so paranoid out in public and I was wondering why he acted that way.
He was visibly nervous, he started tapping his fingers on the desk and darting his eyes around.
“I can’t tell you… It’s better if people don’t see us hanging out in public… I tried to get you to avoid me at school but you didn’t get the message so I gave up.”
“But why?” I asked, confused as ever.
“You’ll throw me out of the house if you knew- He paused. ...You’d hate me…Oh, Safara.. I’m so sorry.” He was expressionless but hints of remorse were seeping in.
“Dimitri… You can tell me anything. I won’t ever hate you.” I put my hand on his shoulder.
He sighed. “Safara. I’m targeted. I’m dangerous. Being around me might make you targeted too. I don’t want you to be hurt, so I try to avoid you and others in public.”
“I-I'm not following. Can you explain more?"
He bowed his head in shame. “I’m the son of Tony Drey. Remember the story I told you at the park? It was about him.”
I gasped. “You’re father was a mob boss?!”
He nodded. “Yeah… He did terrible things… He’s infamous throughout this entire city. His claim to fame was being elected to office as representative of this district of the city. He was passing laws that corrupt the governmental system. He was a well known anarchist and his plan was to dismantle all government. Though, he did much, much, more before that.
He did pretty much everything. Prostitution, drug dealing, robbery, scamming, and yes… he murdered people. He didn't do it himself, though… At least I don’t think he did.
It’s complicated. Basically, he was the leader of his own gang, but it was well organized, so calling it a gang would be an insult. It was a full blown mafia and criminal organization. Everything was run by him and he had loyal followers.
Then he was caught… Put on trial and sent to jail. That's when a woman came out saying that they were seduced by him and had his kids. My mother was devastated but whatever, fuck her.” He said the last part with hatred staining his words.
“Anyways, he was imprisoned and put on death row. He’s still there. He has to serve his 20 year term before he does.” He continued on. “And you’d think my troubles and there but they don’t. That fucker and I look the same!”
I pulled out my phone and quickly googled Tony Drey and I found his mug shot. What stunned me the most is that Dimitri was completely right. They were very similar, but there were some obvious differences too. Tony had green eyes, opposed to Dimitri’s blue, with dark black hair that was beginning to turn white, Dimitri’s was brown. Their haircuts were different, Dimitri’s was longer and a lot messier. Not to mention his dad had stubble and, well, Dimitri was lacking there.
“Yeah… He sure does look like you. Family resemblance…” ////*********************/////
“Exactly. But yeah my looks cause a lot of problems… You see, his followers want me to take his place because that his “official” son would be the heir to the throne and It pisses me off. I don’t want to be that. I want to be a police officer to put sickos like him
in prison where they belong. But not only do I have weirdos forcing me to give them orders, but I also have other people trying to kidnap me for ransom, and some who just want to kill me. So ya know the bruises and cuts on my body when you see me at school?”
I nodded weakly.
“That’s them starting fights with him and I need to protect myself. I fight back. That’s why I can’t have anybody hand out with me ever. But…” He avoided eye contact with me. “It’s so lonely isolating yourself from every one… I longed for somebody to confide in and you came to me. I wanted you to go but I wanted you there with me. It was a guilty pleasure to have you around.” He blushed a little. “I really appreciated our little chats, but I was so shy I could barely talk to you… and now I’m living with you. It’s a dream come true to have a friend like you with me Safara.”
“Oh Dimitri… That’s so sweet.” I was so touched. I was smiling and blushing hard.
“But yeah… I couldn’t bare to see my angel get hurt. You can’t be with t school or in public. I think people are watching me… And once they find out we’re friends they’ll try to hut you so they can hurt me. People are cruel, Safara, they’d attack you even if you are innocent.”
“But Dimitri, you can’t just let them rule over your life like this. You should call the police and get on the witness protection program!”
“You think I haven’t tried that? The cops in this city don’t care. This district is so corrupt, nobody cares about anything you do. That’s how my dad got into power, that’s why the crime rate is so high here.” He rolled his eyes.
“What if I helped?” I shot up the idea suddenly.
“And how would you do that?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Dimitri, what if I could fight along side you? You can’t fight them alone. They’ll over power you someday.” I held his hand in mine and squeezed it. “You said you didn’t want me to get hurt, well, I don’t want you to get hurt or killed either. I want to protect you…”
He was speechless for a moment. He was touched by it obviously because his whole face turned red and he didn’t look at me in the eyes for the rest of the conversation.
“I can’t let you fight for me… If you get hurt, it’s my fault. But… I like the idea.”
“You could train me how to fight! I took karate classes as a kid and self defense!” I pleaded with him.
“I can’t teach you but I can bring you to the guy who taught me… But Safara, this is serious. You sure about it? It’s painful and it will take a lot of time for you to get good.” He explained with a dead pan tone.
“I want to be there for you Dimitri.”
I sealed myself to him in that moment and from then on, we were stuck together.
I was his and he was mine. I was naive. I saw a troubled young man who’d lived a hard life and I just wanted to save him. He called me his angel, and I felt the burden of living up to that title. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. I wasn’t ready but I didn’t care. I was there to help. That’s what I thought I was doing.
Little did I know then, but the time Dimitrius and I would spend together would be the worst years of my life because from that day forward, I was brought into his suffering and I would not drown and suffocate in it until out mission was over.
That was the day I became an honorary mafia kid.
SIDE CHAPTER 2
-CRYING-
His mother stopped giving him attention. He’d come home to the sound of weeping or sobbing. At first he didn’t understand. He thought that once people reached adulthood, they stopped crying. He was hoping that would the case for him at least.
He knocked on on his mother’s bed room door. She ignored him, the crying just got louder, so he let himself in.
“Mommy, why are sad?” He whined as he walked over to her.
She was hunched over on the bed, pulling out her hair. She turned to look at him. Her face was so ugly when she cried. Tears staining her pillow and her face showing all the pain she feels inside. The little took a few steps back, frightened by his own mother’s appearance. Gestured to him to come closer. He hesitated but he did so. He sat next to her on the bed and he hugged and caressed his dirty blond hair.
“Dimitrius… Sometimes adults get sad too. Everybody has a different way of coping with sadness.” She explained.
“What’s coping?” He asked.
“Everybody is different and everybody needs to take of themselves.” She brushed off his question. “Mommy needs alone time, dearest.” She kisses him on the forehead.
He got off the bed. “So you want me to leave you alone?”
“Yes dear… I’ll come out and tell you when I feel better, ok?”
“Oh… Ok mommy!” He said as left the room, closing the door behind.
He waited for her to get better.
She never did.
CHAPTER 9
Dimitri Brought me to see one of his dad’s followers. The man was a huge muscular black guy named “Mufa” but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t his real name because he greeted Dimitrius by called him “Damien” instead. Also, he told me that I wasn’t allowed my real name on the streets. I had difficulty coming up with a new name for myself but Dimitrius comforted me and said it was ok for me to take time to think it over. I eventually settled with “Sophia”.
The first time was just basic training for fighting. It was pretty fun. On the way home after it, Dimitri was acting all nervous.
“Hey, um, are you sure about this? You really wanna go back to training?” He asked.
“Yes! Let’s go back twice a week, ok?” I set up our routine and Dimitri just nodded.
That’s what we did together from then on. School, hanging out and training with Mufa. It was so difficult for a while. My body ached but Dimitri was so supportive and he cheered me on. He was always there watching me from the side lines.
One day, we were walking to the candy store after the training when suddenly, a man hit Dimitri in the back with an empty bottle of wine. I jumped when I heard the hard “THUD” and Dimitri’s sharp gasp. It was happening! My first fight. Dimitri coughed and turned around. It was the bottle brothers.
Mufa had mentioned that the bottle brothers were two men from the opposing gang. They used bottles of wine as their weapons, they duel wielded them, using them as basic melee weapon.
The man swung at Dimitri again but this time, he took a step back and got out of the way. I was shaking, distancing myself from them. They ganged up on him. I was so helpless, watching them battering Dimitri.
He got a chance to grab the bottle out of one of their hands and he smashed it on the other brother’s head. I screamed as the bottle shattered in half. He fell to the floor, blood pooling all over with shards of glass all over the ground. This brutality shocked the brother and he froze watching his partner fall to the ground: that was his fatal mistake. Dimitri spun around with the broken bottle griped firmly in his hand and stabbed him in the stomach with the sharp broken part of the bottle.
I couldn’t stand it anymore. I ran off and headed towards the park. Once there, I stopped to take a second to breath. Suddenly, my face was in the dirty. It happened so fast I couldn’t even scream.
“OHMYGODSAFARAAREYOUOK?” Dimitri spoke so fast in panic as he grabbed me by the waist and picked me up.
I was violent yanked off the the ground and held tenderly in his arms. He was trembling as he wiped the dirt off of my face.
I was stunned. I opened my eyes and I could see him, but it was blurry. It took me a few seconds for his anxious face to come into focus.
He swallowed some of his anxiety and held me tighter. “Are you ok? I d-didn’t mean to run into you.”
“Uh-huh.” I nodded slowly. The motion of my head bopping like that made me dizzy.
“Y-you started running after I was done with those guys.” He said.
“No. I’m ok.” I tried talking but it came out raspy and quiet. “I was just scared.”
He nodded and lifted me up. He threw me up into the air and I fell on my back into his arms.
He forced a reassuring smile. “I dealt with them. Let’s go home.”
He walks out of the park carrying me around bridal style. I was really confused by this but my head to much for me to question it.
As we walked home, people stared at us. They gave us weird looks. I glared back at them. Dimitri was doing something nice and people were staring at him like he was kidnapping me. I looked up at his face. He had no emotion on his face. I wasn’t sure if he was noticing it too and didn’t care or if he was oblivious.
I put my arm around his shoulders and hugged him for the rest of the walk.
“Dimitrius…”
“Don’t call me that.” He glared down at me.
“Sorry. My mom once told me you have schizophrenia.” I said.
“Oh? What else did she say?”
“You were diagnosed with it when you were 15.” I curled up to him. “That’s all I know.”
“Oh. Well what about it?” He sounded almost offended, but with him, any tone he has in his voice is best to be left ignored. He always sounds like a robot or a chronically annoyed mumbling teen age boy.
“You hallucinate. Mom said that… Do you hear voices?”
“Um.. Not exactly. Sometimes what people say to me gets mixed up, I mean, they’ll say something and I’ll hear the words out of orders.” He explained.
“What’s it like being schizophrenic?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve had it for such a long time that I’ve gotten used to it.” He replied.
“Oh but what do you hallucinate?”
“Well I can’t tell you that.” He forced a small laugh. It was cute. “You’d think I’m crazy.”
“I’m curious though and I won’t judge you.” I reassured him.
He gave me a cautious look, like he was unsure. I gave him puppy dog eyes and that convinced him. He stoped walked and pointed at a group of men.
“Well, right there, there are 3 demons talking to each other.” He said.
“Demons? There 3 guys.”
“They are all black and shadowy. They have arrow shaped tails and big horns. Their eyes and mouths are like light poking through the darkness.” He described as he continued walking.
“So… You seem demons.”
“Yep. Every stranger is a demon to me.”
“Was I a demon when we met?” I asked, kneading my fingers in his hoodie.
“Yes.” He looked down at me. “But you turned into an angel as we got to know each other.”
“Wait what? I’m an angel?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Well aren’t you?” He said with concern.
“I’m a human, Dimitri.”
“B-but you have wings and a halo, you’re so beautiful and shiny… you’re an angel.”
My heart fell into my stomach but I also felt the butterflies fly around in there too. I didn’t know if Dimitri think this about me would be dangerous or if I should be flattered.
“Do you really see me like this?” I asked trying not to sound nervous.
“Yeah. All the time.”
“Hey Dimitri, do you know that your hallucinations aren’t real, right?”
He glared at me. No filter, no held back emotions, he looked actually angry. For real.
“You can walk.” He said and dropped me at on the ground.
I fell down right on my butt. He stepped aside and walked away. It really hurt but seeing him leave me hurt more. I jumped up and I was about to yell at him but I stoped. I lowered my fist.
I remember what my mother said to me. To be careful with him.
Schizophrenics can be really dangerous if you don’t treat them right…
I cocked my head to the side and grinned. Just trying to push it aside. I walked up to him.
“I wonder what it’s like to see how you see the world… It must be interesting.” I said cheerfully, but I was trying not to punch him with all my might.
He looked up. “I could show you, but it’s a little risky.”
I snapped out of my anger and stared at him in confusion. “Wait… How?”
“I did it once before, but if we do it, you need to follow my instructions very carefully.”
“what do we have to do to achieve it?”
“Well, it’s like a ritual… It helped you see inside of the other person’s head. You drink some water in a dark room and the person who want to share their mind has to describe everything to the other person.” He paused for a second and stared at me. “It relies on imagination.”
“Oh… so it’s not actually going into somebody’s mind?” He smirked “No that’s scientifically impossible, but this ritual is as close to it as it gets. Do you want to try it?”
“Sure, why not?” I shrugged.
“Ok! I’m gonna run off to the store and buy some candles. Go home with out me, ok?” He said as he ran off.
“Dimitri! Wait!” I called out to him but he was already gone.
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wowweeharrystyles · 4 years
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Part 4 | Ripped Trousers & Giving In | 8.5K
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‘Sequins & Zippers’ Summary: An internship with Harry Lambert transformed into a job of a lifetime - Aurora Del Gatto finds herself touring the world with the one & only Harry Styles as his ‘Head of Wardrobe.’ Aurora is nothing but nerves & excitement as she packs her bags & almost 100 custom designer suits that belong to an unbelievably kind rockstar. She never thought she’d fall in love on top of it all.
Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Masterlist
A/N: these videos from HSLOT18 inspired me a LOT to write this chapter sooooo x x x x (let me tell you... these videos... whewwww) 
“I didn’t get a chance to bet against you…. so I still get to keep my job yeah?” Aurora asks waving a folded piece of paper as she walks towards Harry. Harry laughs before pulling her into a hug. 
“Only get to keep it cause I need ya to tie to those damn bows on my shirts. Remind me why we chose so many shirts like that?” He gives her a cheeky smile when he leans back to look at her, his hands clasping at her lower back. Her laugh fills the space of the empty coffee shop and Harry’s smile grows bigger. Aurora pushes the lone curl that has fallen onto his forehead back up to fit in with the rest of his curls. 
Harry’s clad in his favourite slim fit black gucci trousers and a worn in white t shirt. All Harry’s note had lead on was that they’d be walking a bit, noting to wear“comfortable shoes” and then the name of the coffee shop he’d meet her at. 
“So what kind of plans do you have up your sleeves?”
“How do you feel about museums?” He laughs when he sees her face light up. “Guess you like them?” 
“Is it that obvious?” She giggles as her hands fly up to cover her face. 
“Yes.” She groans at his eager response. “But it’s kinda cute, if I’m honest.” 
“Come on, you’ve got like a 30 second window before I get so embarrassed about my excitement to go to a museum in Barcelona that I bail on you and spend the rest of the day watching my entire iTunes movie collection.” 
“You will have plenty of time to watch ‘This Is Us’ later.” Aurora rolls her eyes at him as he grabs their coffees from the barista and leads them out of the shop. 
They spend the majority of the afternoon walking through Fundación Joan Miró. Harry’s hand rarely leaves the small of Aurora’s back the entire time through the museum. During those rare times, he’s towing her along with her hand in his. Harry is thankful for the time they get to spend together on a free day, a day neither of them have to work. He tells her this repeatedly as they admire the art. 
| | | | |
They’re tucked away in the corner table on the patio seating at a local restaurant harry picked out as the sun is setting that evening. Aurora can’t help but admire the way the lighter green flecks in Harry’s eyes sparkly from the reflection of the fairy lights that line the trellises of the patio. 
“What’re you thinking about?” Harry asks before sipping his wine. Aurora fiddles with the stem of her wine glass for a moment. 
“Hm?” She shakes her head. “Nothing really.” Harry raises an eyebrow at her. 
“Seems like something,” he says softly, leaning forward. 
Aurora scrunches her nose with a small smirk trying to maneuver her thoughts. “Today was just really nice.” She sips her wine so she doesn’t say more. 
Dinner is full of small glances and sweet smiles. Harry, like the gentleman he is, walks Aurora to her hotel room door and gives her a kiss on the cheek when they finally say goodnight. 
| | | | |
Aurora is sitting on the counter of the sink while Harry finishes getting ready for the show tonight. She’s admiring the way his hair is sitting perfectly and the way that his suit sparkles even in the fluorescent lights of the arena bathroom. 
“Hand me the Tom Ford bottle there, love?” Harry’s question pulls her out of her daze. She hands him the bottle after taking a look at it. 
Helene gives Aurora a look. Aurora spilled everything to her on the flight to Spain and she’s been teasing and shooting her cheeky looks relentlessly all day. While Aurora was steaming Harry’s suit earlier and Harry was going on and on about the museum they went to yesterday as Ayae messed about with his hair Helene couldn’t help but giggle along with the two of them. Harry was exaggerating Aurora’s excitement about the museum and she was  fighting him about it. “Thought she might faint from excitement” he told Ayae like Helene and Aurora weren’t right there with them. The 4 of them were comfortable and carefree together before shows. Harry liked to keep a light mood while he gets ready. Once he starts brushing his teeth though, he gets all serious. Aurora finds it quite entertaining to see the stark difference. 
Harry continuously jokes with the girls and picks fun at Aurora. He just HAS to bring up Aurora’s movie collection too. When he starts listing off the movie titles in her collection Helene and Ayae burst into a fit of laughter. Aurora rolls her eyes, something that has become a normal occurrence in any conversation with Harry. 
Now, here in the bathroom the conversation has settled down and Harry is generally silent. He’s already brushed his teeth and is now just taking the time to focus and calm down his recurring nerves that pop up every night. Besides Harry’s question, the only other sound that echoes in the empty bathroom is the click of Helene’s camera. Harry’s spraying his cologne on his neck when Helene’s shutter goes off again. “I’m gonna go grab a different lens for the show. Good luck tonight, H!” and at that Aurora and Harry are left alone in the echoey bathroom. 
Aurora draws her attention back to Harry who is setting the Tom Ford bottle back on the counter. He runs his hands lightly through his hair, turning his head slightly so the strong line of his jaw is emphasised. Aurora reaches out towards him, tugging on the bottom hem of his jacket. Harry turns towards her and raises his eyebrows at her. A small smirk appears on his face as he sees the smile on Aurora’s face. He takes one step closer to her and fits himself between her legs. Her legs that were once swinging freely off the counter now completely still as his hands land on her thighs near her knees. Harry reaches his head down to her level and a lock of curls fall out of place and catch on his eyelashes. Aurora first reaches for the curls, swiping them away from his eye but they fall right back. Then, she uses her pointer finger on the side of his chin to turn his head back to the angle that showcases his jawline so well. She places a soft kiss at the hinge of his jaw. Harry giggles lowly at the light touch. When Aurora pulls away to get a good look at him Harry opens his mouth to say something but before he can get a single sound out Harry’s named is getting called repeatedly from the hallway. Most likely Jeff looking for him. Harry’s head drops back on his shoulders and a light groan comes from the back of his throat. 
“Always thinks I’m gonna be late,” he comments. “Gonna watch from the audience tonight?” Harry asks. Aurora nods. 
“Absolutely. Gotta see how this suit sparkles under the stage lighting,” she says, pulling the edges of the jacket together. She buttons it closed for him. 
“All you care about is seeing my suits on stage…” 
“Quite like to see the person wearing them too,” she mumbles. That earns a kiss to her cheek and both of his hands squeeze at her knees. Harry’s name is called again but much louder now. “Good luck,” she presses a kiss close to his mouth, only being able to reach her neck up so high. Even with sitting on a high counter, he’s still much taller than she is. 
| | | | |
Aurora finds her favourite spot in the audience, the back of the pit but still close enough to the crowd of fans that she can feed off their energy and hide her dancing if she needs too. From here she also gets an amazing view of the stage but her absolute favourite part of standing here is when the show starts and the screen rises up. Harry’s comment earlier was partially right. She does love seeing how his suits look on stage but what she loves most about it is the crowd’s reaction. She loves hearing their speculations before the show starts, she loves how the screams heighten when they get a little glimpse of him and she really loves seeing friends turn to each other, smiles covering their entire face, yelling some sort of comment to each other. Tonight she makes out a few screaming comments along the lines of sequins, glitter, and sparkly. Someone standing nearby comments about his hair and Aurora nods to herself with a laugh. His hair becomes somewhat of a thing throughout the entire performance. The stray curl she repeatedly pushed away from his face throughout yesterday and today fell into his eyes repeatedly throughout the show. Helene found Aurora once Harry launched into ‘Anna’. Harry’s adorn in a rainbow flower lei and one of the many pride flags draped around his shoulders. Harry’s incredibly carefree on stage and Aurora admires that about him so much. He’s goofy, and playful, and giggly but still puts on the best show he possibly can. Helene and Aurora sing along to ‘Anna’ and laugh at Harry’s dance moves during ‘What Makes You Beautiful’. They see Harry turn to Mitch and say something on stage, all while reaching down to the inside seam of his pants. 
“Did he just rip his trousers?” Helene asks Aurora in disbelief. 
“Oh god. He did, didn’t he?” Aurora rolls her eyes and her head falls back on her neck, a short chuckle leaving her mouth. “Well… guess I gotta go handle that. He’s got one more before he walks off yeah?” 
Helene nods. “Good luck.” 
Aurora shows her pass to the security at the edge of the pit, then again to another guard at the curtain that leads backstage. Aurora can hear Harry finishing the final chorus of ‘Sign Of The Times’ when she gets to the mini makeshift dressing room that’s located underneath the stage. Aurora is sure to stand out of the way of the entrance and gets her needle, thread and scissors ready. Harry’s laugh fills the small room before he’s even there. 
“Ror!” he exclaims when he sees her. 
“Ripped your pants huh?” 
“Don’t need to fix ‘em now, love. Only got 3 more songs, I’ll be fine.” He’s all smiles and still in the midst of his concert high. He’s also not logical when he’s like this. 
“Yeah, 2 of which are Chain and Kiwi. Your pants will not last through 10 seconds of either of those songs.” Aurora laughs at the look on his face then juts her empty hand out. “Come on, just give me your pants, they’ll be fixed in a second.” Harry rolls his eyes but starts to unbutton his pants anyways. 
The sight of Harry running to the bathroom in his suit jacket, boxers, tall black socks and boots was even funnier than the fact that he ripped a damn hole in his insanely expensive pants. She laughs as she starts to stitch up the hole. Harry’s back in less than 30 seconds and he’s chugging down his 2nd water bottle since he left the stage. He leans down and presses a kiss to Aurora’s cheek. Then another. With the 3rd kiss he wraps his arms around her shoulders. 
“Harry, I can’t fix your damn pants with you like this,” she whines. 
“Sorry,” he whispers lowly in her ear before stepping away from her. 
Aurora knots the thread as best as she can so hopefully he doesn’t rip them again in the next 30 
minutes. Harry slides the trousers on carefully and Aurora goes to leave so she can see the rest of the show. 
“Thank you, love,” Harry says grabbing onto her hand. When she turns around he’s much closer than she thought he would be. That one curl has fallen in front of his eyes again. Aurora reaches up to move it back into place. She can feel the weight of his hands at her waist and for a brief moment both of them are able to block out the deafening screams and the chanting of his name coming from a few feet above them. Harry presses his forehead to Aurora’s and she feels slightly dizzy. He smiles at her lightly and she remembers the smile he gave her while he was singing “Ever Since New York.” He’s started to give her the same smile during the exact part every show. That one smile makes her feel like she does right now in this tiny room. Somehow in a room of thousands and thousands of people he can make it feel like it’s just her and Harry. Without a doubt, goosebumps arise on her skin. 
Harry’s name is called by the stage manager and they’re both brought back to the reality in front of them. Harry presses a kiss to Aurora’s forehead before thanking her again and running up the stairs. She peeks through the curtain at the bottom of the stairs. The single spotlight casts a shadow down the stairs as Harry stands at the mic, center stage. Harry’s voice matches the simplicity of the guitar that opens ‘From The Dining Table.’ Aurora’s heart drops every time she listens to him perform this song. The exclusive view she has right now adds to the experience and she catches herself choking back a few tears. His music is the first thing she fell for and she’s constantly reminded why. Before she knows it, the beginning of ‘The Chain’ echoes through the entire arena and Aurora makes her way to the side of the stage to watch the rest of the show.
| | | | |
“Wish you would’ve come out with us last night,” Harry comments as he walks with Aurora down the hall of the arena in Madrid. He has his arm swung around her shoulder and is telling her about how Mitch was telling this outrageous story and even got up and reenacted it all for the group. Aurora laughs along with Harry’s story.
“Maybe next time, Harry,” she offers, hoping one day she’ll actually get the courage to say yes to 
going with. 
“I’ve gotta meet with my trainer, but I’ll find ya later okay?” He offers her a lopsided smile, “could watch a movie or something before we have to get to work.” Aurora nods at him with a smile before he’s off down the hall. 
| | | | |
Helene is going through some of the photos she’s taken the past few days on the couch with Aurora. They’ve been the only ones in their green room all afternoon. A lot of the crew took the chance to sight see or sleep in so the arena isn’t too busy yet. 
“Aurora!” Helene squeals, “Look at this one of you and Harry.” Aurora looks up from her phone to Helene’s computer screen. 
“Of me and Harry?” She questions. and to her disbelief, on the screen is a photo of Harry and Aurora from last night. It’s nearly identical to the photo Helene choose for Harry’s social channels, but instead of seeing Harry’s reflection in the mirror, the photo was taken from a slightly different angle and you can see Aurora’s frame seated on top of the counter. Aurora face is soft and Harry has a slight smile on his face. 
“Imagine if we posted this photo on accident?”
“Helene!” Aurora yells. “That would be an absolute mess and I would have to change my name and leave the country. Hard pass.” Then their both in laughing fits. 
“That would stir some shit up,” Helene comments when she can finally catch her breath. 
“Ror!!!” Harry’s voice booms through the nearly empty room. “What’re you two up to?” He questions when he sees them trying to suppress their giggles
Helene and Aurora look at each other and burst into laughter again, Aurora can’t stop soon enough to stop Helene from showing Harry the photo of the 2 of them. She has the urge to stop him from seeing the photo, from seeing the way she was truly looking at him in awe while he was getting ready. She doesn’t ever remember making eye contact with him in that moment and Helene must have snapped the photo so fast that she caught the perfect moment. 
“Oh,” is all that comes out of Harry’s mouth the second he sees it. Aurora doesn’t know what to do in the moment and she just waits to see how Harry reacts. A smile starts to tear at his lips and within the same second he pulls his lips in by his teeth, doing his best to hide the smile that threatens to cover his entire face. The dimple that still shows up regardless tells all. He huffs after a moment. “Would ya send that one to me, Tiny?” 
‘Tiny’, what Harry’s nicknamed Helene, nods and quickly sends it over, Harry’s phone dinging in his pocket. Harry ignores it but thanks Helene before asking her if she wants to grab snacks and watch a movie with Aurora and him. She kindly declines and when Harry isn’t looking at her she winks at Aurora. Aurora thinks she might get a headache from all the eye rolls she has to do on a day to day basis. 
| | | | |
Aurora is having trouble keeping her eyes open when Reese Witherspoon as Elle Woods pops up on her computer screen dressed in a hot pink suit. She told Harry when they pressed play on the movie that she was pretty tired and honestly didn’t think she would last an entire movie. She suggested they watch an episode of ‘friends’ instead but he insisted on playing Legally Blonde. He pulled Aurora by the waist and situated her in front of him on the couch, pulling her shoulders back so she could lay her head back on his chest. 
“Don’t mind if ya fall asleep on me,” he had whispered into her hair when the opening titles came up. 
Now, Aurora’s eyes are fluttering shut, not able to fight the tiredness off any longer. She lets go of the last bit of her weight she was supporting herself and is limp against Harry’s chest. Harry only tightens his arm around her waist when he smiles, noticing she’s finally given in to the sleep her body needed so badly. Harry can’t pay attention to the rest of the movie and he’s a bit sad that they didn’t get to watch and quote along to both of their favourite part. Instead, as Elle Woods repeatedly makes note that the daughter took a shower, he presses a kiss to her hair, breathing in the so uniquely Aurora scent. He can’t put his finger on it, but it’s something floral and coconutty with a hint of woodsy-ness to it. Harry tries to focus on the ending of the movie, his eyes start to well up at the end, without a doubt, a good distraction from Aurora’s sleeping body on top of him. He focuses on the small huffs of air that she lets out and rubs his thumb into her forearm, leaving behind goosebumps. He slumps down the couch a bit further, still holding her tight against him. He lets the end credits roll and once the room is silent, Aurora starts to stir. She mumbles an apology and he’s shushing her while she rolls her over so she’s facing him. Harry’s lips graze over her exposed ear and he presses light kisses down her jaw. 
Aurora’s still groggy from her mini nap and his lips on her skin is a feeling she can’t describe. Harry takes over all of her senses so quickly. His chest pressed against hers and his lips roaming her face is a bit overwhelming.
“Hey,” Harry says with a short giggle, his nose scrunching up when he meets his eyes with hers. His nose brushes against Aurora’s, earning a short giggle from her as well. 
“Should probably start getting everything ready…” Aurora whispers. She’s peeling her body away from his, as much as she just wants to stay right where she is. Sitting up on the couch is like pulling away 2 magnets, with Harry’s hands pulling on her waist and the added warmth quickly leaving her body, it feels wrong pulling away. She taps her computer, as the screen has gone dark now, it’s much later than she thought. “Harry, I really gotta go get everyone's clothing ready.” Harry’s sitting up beside her now. He lets out a loud sigh, knowing Aurora is right. 
“Jeeze,” he agrees when he sees the time, “but just like 2 more minutes,” he says as he wraps his arms around her waist and wiggles his face into her neck, his breath hot on her collarbone. 
“Harry,” Aurora whines, trying to pull out of his grip. 
“Rory,” he whines back. 
“Seriously Harry, we both have jobs to do…” she reminds him.
“Ugg,” he groans, “why must you be such a hard worker? Never forgetting anything, always 10 steps ahead of everyone…” 
“Hired me for a reason, didn’t ya?” Harry raises his eyebrows up in agreement, loosening his grip around her waist. “Come on, you’ve got sound check.” Aurora offers her hand out to him, pulling him off the couch. 
Later on, after Harry has finished soundcheck and eaten, he finds Aurora back in his dressing room, but instead of being sprawled out on the couch like earlier, she was working on getting his suit ready for the show. Harry pauses in the doorway, not making a noise and simply just watching her, she’s bopping around a bit to the music she’s got playing on her computer. A smile erupts on his face when he really pays attention to the music that’s playing. Aurora whips her head around, after setting the steamer down of course. Harry didn’t realise he let out a loud chuckle, making his presence known. 
“Whatcha listening to there, love?” Aurora’s heart sinks for a moment then a nervous, embarrassed laugh come out of her mouth. She hadn’t noticed that an old One Direction song came on shuffle. 
“Wait,” she starts to defend herself, “I just had my music on shuffle! Didn’t even notice it was playing!” 
“Uh huh, whatever you say, Ror.” He shakes his head at her. “Your dancing proves otherwise.” 
“You’re an absolute menace, ya know that right?” She rolls her eyes and turns back to the suit to finish what she was doing before being interrupted. 
Harry smirks at her before sitting down on the couch. “Quite excited for this suit, if I’m honest,” Harry offers, changing the subject. 
“Me too,” she agrees, smiling to herself. She can recall the first fitting of this specific suit and remember loving it. Not just the style or design but the way it fit Harry perfectly. He’s done frills and glitter, the whole nine yards, but this look was different. High waisted trousers, cropped jacket and his TPWK tank. Aurora remembers it fitting so perfectly she was antsy to see him perform in it. 
Before she knows it, it’s time for him to slip in to the suit. Ayae leaves the room after Claire requested that she needed some help cause she messed up her hair since Ayae had done it earlier. Aurora’s grabbing his boots from the crate and when she turns around she freezes. 
“Uhm,” she stutters out, “Uh, uhm, here-here’s your boots.” 
“Everything alright, Ror?” Harry questions as he finished tucking in the white tank to his pants. 
Aurora shakes her head, “Uh, yeah,” she pauses, “guess I just forgot how good this suit looks.” Harry raises his eyebrows at her, surprised at her confession. 
“Oh,” is all he lets out. She swears she can see a blush colour the tops of his cheeks. 
“I mean, they all-they all look good,” Aurora tries to back track, she’s cursing in her head, but gives up. “But, like, this one…” she trails off. She likes the surprised look on Harry’s face from her confession. “This one is just so… I don’t know,” she trails off shaking her head. “Anyways… put your boots on.” 
Harry makes his way to the large bathroom to brush his teeth and Aurora follows along. She plops on the counter again, her new favourite place to observe him as he finishes getting ready. Aurora is admiring the way the high waisted trousers fit perfectly and then her eyes catch his arm full of tattoos that are still on full display. The black ink in contrast to his light skin is mesmerizing and she doesn’t think she’s really ever paid as much attention to them as she would like to. The ones that scatter his forearms and lower bicep are familiar but the ones at his shoulder and chest are almost brand new to Aurora. She lets herself study them in detail while Harry brushes his teeth. The A and G on either of his shoulders are delicate and she wants, in the worst way to trace over them, all of them, with the pads of her fingers. The swallows that peak out from the top of the white tank top he’s wearing are driving her insane, she thinks. The white tank not only displays his tattoos but also shows of the ridges of his muscles. Harry’s not absurdly muscular or buff, but the definition that is there is obvious. Aurora doesn’t get it, she’s never seen someone’s muscles look so hard and strong but soft at the same time. His bare skin draws her in more and all she can think about is how his bare skin would feel wrapped around her. 
You’re getting ahead of yourself, Aurora. Slow the fuck down. 
She’s starting to lose her mind a bit over the view in front of her. She doesn’t know what’s going on with her. Aurora forces herself to peel her eyes away from him and it’s harder than threading the smallest needle in the world. She takes the time to look down at her hands and reground herself. Her mind is running a mile a minute and if she were to voice anything going on in her head nobody would understand because it would come out as gibberish. Aurora is finally able to focus on something besides Harry standing barely a foot away from her. She notices her nails could really use a fresh manicure and she thinks she’ll have to get a fresh one in the next city she finds herself in. 
Harry’s hand squeezes at her knee and she looks up to him. 
“Y’alright?” he questions. When she meets his eyes she offers him a small smile and his eyes quirk up in a question. 
“Mhm,” she hums, “lost in thought, I guess,” she answers, surprising herself. 
“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” 
“Nothing important enough to bother you with,” she lets out with a laugh. 
“Never a both to me, love.” The nickname rings in her ears and her brain is no longer consumed by anything else. She nods at him silently. 
He sprays his cologne, the last step of his routine. Aurora appreciates his consistency and thoughtfulness when he gets ready for a show. Everything he does is done just so. She shakes herself out of her thoughts and pushes herself off of the counter. Before she can even say her good lucks and make her way out of the door he’s got a strong grip on her hip. 
“Hey,’ he barely whispers. Aurora avoids making eye contact. “Saw ya wandering eyes this entire time,” he teases. His free hand comes in contact with Aurora’s chin and tilts it up so she has no choice but to look at him. Sometimes she hates how forward he is. She’s nothing like him. She shakes her head at him lightly once both hands are on her waist. She lets her hands fall on to his chest in fist and her head hangs low. She voices an apology, quietly, but speaks nonetheless. 
“Don’t be sorry, don’t mind it one bit.” Harry places a soft kiss on the top of her cheekbone. Aurora lets one of her hands reach for the ‘G’ inked on his shoulder and trace over it like she had wanted to minutes ago. 
“Was admiring your tattoos,” she whispers, her eyes trained on the ink. 
Harry doesn’t say anything, he just lets her delicate fingers graze his skin. Aurora can feel her heart beating and it sends electric like shocks through her entire body. Her hands feel like their on fire and she can’t figure out if it’s because of the nerves or the heat radiating from Harry’s skin. Aurora’s brain turns off she thinks because before she knows she’s reaching her neck up and kissing the edge of Harry’s jaw softly. When her lips leave his skin she can actually hear Harry swallow. 
“I know we agreed to take it slow, but I’m having a real hard time trying not to kiss you right now.” Harry’s voice is deep and Aurora can feel his hot breath fan out across her face. She sucks in a breath, her hands reaching to the waistband of Harry’s high waisted pants that she’s been fawning over silently since he put them on a half hour ago. She breathes out his name as she shakes her head. Harry presses her into the wall, his hips square on hers. Aurora busies her hands at the belt loops before she realises what she’s actually doing. Harry’s lips land on her cheek and then again at the soft spot behind her ear. 
“Harry,” she voices again, trying her hardest to stop his movements. It’s not that she doesn’t like it or anything like that. It’s that she likes it too much. That it feels so unbelievably good. That she doesn’t want him to stop. But she has to stop him, she’s still not ready to take whatever this is, further. “You’ve got a show to do,” she whispers. This is a can of worms she cannot tackle right now. 
“They can wait,” he whispers into her neck. 
“Harry, please,” she almost begs, but she doesn’t know what for, “please,” she’s trying her best here, but his hot breath and his soft lips grazing over her skin repeatedly makes it hard and she doesn’t think she’ll be able to say no to his pouty lips and puppy dog eyes when he brings his face into her line of sight. “Slow, we said slow,” she finally says, using her hands to push him away barely an inch. “And-and, and the way these trousers look on you right now are really not helping,” she says quickly. She shakes her head at herself when she realises what she had just said aloud. A half chuckle, half huff leaves his mouth and she can tell he’s fighting a smile without even looking at her. 
“Sorry, sorry, sorry, right,” he says the second he locks eyes with her. “Sorry, don’t know what it is about you,” he shakes his head, “driving me crazy.” He smiles softly at her. A slight feeling of relief washes over her now knowing that they’re on the same page with all of this. He sighs. “Got a show to do, I guess.” 
Aurora laughs at him and he thinks his heart swells to double its size, just as it does every time she laughs. He shakes his head again, trying to get her out of his mind for just a short moment so he can get himself stage ready. Aurora slides herself out of the way of the door to grab his jacket. She instantly feels like she’s missing something now that he’s not consuming all of her senses. When she turns around Harry’s already halfway out the door. 
“Babe,” she’s walking towards him, “need your jacket.” Harry nods and he’s in a trance when she helps him slide it onto his shoulders. “Good luck, even though you never really need it.” 
He thanks her and smiles at her. The entire walk from his dressing room to the last set of doors to the stage, all he can think about is Aurora calling him ‘babe’. Normally before a show he can focus and get his mind in check but his brain is full of Aurora right now and he’s doing nothing to stop it. Using her as a flame to ignite his energy and drive this show he’s about to put on. He’s in deep and he knows it right in this moment. He knows that he’ll do anything she says, anything to put a smile on her face, to hear her breathe his name against his neck just as she had a few minutes ago. Harry’s willing to go as slow as humanly possible if it means that tomorrow, or the next day or 3 months from now or whenever, that he gets to call her his.
| | | | |
The first glimpse Harry gets of Aurora while he’s on stage is only seconds into “Only Angel.” Aurora had taken a moment to collect herself before making her way into the audience to watch the show. Harry sees Aurora walking from the side of the stage into the audience and an instant smile grazes his face as he sways from side to side to his music. The lyrics that come out of his mouth, he thinks, are so perfect for this moment - “She’s an angel” - an angel is what she is to him. He shakes his head, hoping that he could shake Aurora out of his head. 
Everyone in the arena is feeding off the energy that Harry is exuding on stage, like a how a flame thrives on extra oxygen. Harry is nothing but smiles and cheeky smirks, dimples on full display the entire time. Aurora doesn’t stay in her normal spot, nor does she seek out Helene. She finds herself on the outskirts of the pit on stage left. Her mind drifts while Harry moves swiftly across the stage. From the angle she’s looking at the stage from, she’s got a perfect profile view of him. She curses to herself when she realises she’s fawning over how he looks in those high waisted pinstripe trousers. At first she thought she was gushing over the trousers themselves, the construction, the styling, the way the fabric drapes at the hem, but she catches her mind drifting towards how Harry looks in them. His legs look like they go on forever, the white trouser stripe accentuating the fit of the leg. Aurora’s eyes trail up to his torso and all she wants to do is wrap her arms around his waist. She wants to run her hands along the smooth, shiny fabric and the more she thinks about it, the more her mind wanders. Shit. Aurora is overwhelmed by the thoughts traveling through her brain. The thoughts of her hands roaming his torso, sliding lower when they reach his back. She shakes her head, trying to rid herself of the thoughts. He’s technically my boss. But he’s also, just Harry. This is a fight she has in her head about a million times a day now. 
Aurora is surprised when the intro to “The Chain” begins. She enjoyed the show, that’s for sure, but she feels like she blinked, daydreamed about those damn high waisted trousers, and then he was starting his encore. Aurora can’t help but gaze up to him on the stage, she’s in the midst of admiring his confidence and power in his voice as he rocks back onto his heels and his shoulders follow suit, only accenting the way the suit fits. 
Harry hoists his shoulders up to his ears, both hands on the mic as he belts out. He lets his head fall back, eyes closed, a look a pure bliss falls across his face. Aurora sighs to herself and basques in the idea of bliss falling across his face when he’s with her. She’s fucked at this point and she knows it. She’s in too deep to go back now. Curses fill her head as the song ends and “Kiwi” starts. Harry’s jacket is unbuttoned and he’s fiddling with the waistband of his pants on the side closest to where Aurora is standing. One sly look from Harry to Aurora tells it all. She’s in for it. 
Aurora is bewildered by the fact that Harry is able to communicate with her in the audience. It’s escalated as each show has gone on and every single time he’s on stage he can find her in the crowd at any given moment. 
Reckless is the best word to describe Harry performing ‘Kiwi’. He’s let just about all of his guards down, his hair is no longer in the perfect place that Ayae had done earlier, and there’s a light layer of sweat that covers his exposed skin. Harry’s stealing glances at Aurora no matter where he is on stage. When he makes his way closer to where she is standing he lets himself dance a bit in front of her before he regrets doing so. Harry is instantly reminded how tight his pants truly are and that he’s gotten himself in a tight spot now. Anyone paying attention to Harry can see him pull at the crotch of his pants quickly as he walks towards his mic stand. He laughs to himself as he clicks his mic back into its stand. He takes a glance down to his trousers again, reaching down he goes to pull at the fabric that is sitting much too tight against his bits. All while pulling at his trousers, he searches for Aurora quickly and gives her a look that he hopes relays everything that is going through his head. He hasn’t broken eye contact with her and she can feel the heat rise up to her cheeks. Aurora’s thankful that Harry can’t see the colour her face right now. Her jaw drops at his actions. She wasn’t prepared for him to be so bold and obvious up on stage. He seals the moment with a slow motion swipe of his tongue across his lips. Aurora is left dumbfounded. Before she thinks he’s through with the act he’s putting on for her, he runs a hand through his hair. Though he’s not looking at Aurora, she knows every single action he does in the next few minutes is for her and she can feel the tips of her ears heat up now. 
It’s New York baby always jacked up,
Holland tunnel for a nose, it’s always backed up,
When she’s alone she goes home to a cactus, 
In a black dress, she’s such an actress. 
Harry runs his hands from his hips down to his thighs and then brings his hands up to his head, bringing all his focus to his hips moving side to side. Aurora drops her head back on her shoulders with an eye roll. She doesn’t know what to do with herself right now. 
I’m gonna pay for this. 
He looks directly at her and the look on his face is best described as helpless. Aurora is frozen for a moment before she lets all of her guards down and loses herself in the music. 
| | | | |
Harry’s taking a sip from his new bottle of beer when he hears the light chime of the bar door. He thinks it might be his 3rd or 4th but hasn’t been keeping count. He’s out with the Adam and Mitch again and some crew members tagged along as well. Harry’s reaches for his phone for the millionth time in the past 30 minutes to see if Aurora’s texted him back. She hasn’t. He’s been pouting about it all night. After the show, Aurora was quiet, but much more hands on than normal. They both were pretty quiet in Harry’s dressing room. When Aurora hugged Harry once he got back to his dressing room she let her hands wander his torso like she thought about the entire show She also pressed a handful of kisses to the underside of his jaw before giggling and breaking away. She apologized, mumbling about not being sure why she was acting like this. Harry responded with a squeeze at her hip and then mirrored her mumbling and spoke about him hoping she would get like this. Aurora takes a step away whispering “slow” as a reminder but she doesn’t know if it’s just to remind herself what they agreed on or to remind Harry. Probably both. 
Harry’s too busy checking his phone to notice that the bell at the door was the result of Aurora walking into the bar. Harry wishes he could bring himself to enjoy the time with his friends but he can’t stop thinking about her. When he asked Aurora if she wanted to come out with them she kindly declined, again. He texted her once he got to the bar hoping to get her to change her mind or try to convince her to meet up with him later. 
Aurora and Helene walk into the bar, arms linked and smiles on their faces. Once Harry left the arena, Helene found Aurora and after a few glasses of wine, Helene convinced Aurora to go to the bar and surprise Harry.  
“What if he doesn’t care that I’m here?” Aurora whispers to Helene. 
“Doesn’t care?” Helene questions in disbelief. “Was I the only one who saw him on stage tonight or?” 
“Oh stop,” Aurora hushes. They’re both giggling again. They’ve giggled a lot tonight as a result of a bottle of wine shared between them.
Harry recognizes Aurora’s laugh and his head shoots up, hair falling in his face from the quick movement. He can’t help the smile that covers his entire face when he sees her leaning against the bar. Harry slides out of the booth nodding his head towards Aurora at the bar when Mitch questions where he’s going. 
“Add their drinks to my tab, Rob,” Harry tells the bartender. Helene lets out a laugh, shoots Aurora an all knowing look, and thanks Harry before walking away to find Adam and Mitch. “What changed your mind?” Harry asks as he takes a step closer to Aurora. She shrugs her shoulders, suddenly nervous, the confidence from the wine already gone. She reaches for her Whisky Soda the second Rob slides it to her. She takes a hearty sip before she shrugs her shoulders, avoiding meeting his eyes. “Well,” Harry continues, “thanks for coming,” he offers shyly. 
“Show was pretty great tonight, thought I should celebrate with you,” she finally answers. Harry quirks up an eyebrow. She can see the smirk that compliments his raised eyebrows from the corner of her eye. She focuses on the drink in front of her, watching a drop of condensation rolling down the side of the glass and hit the bar counter. Harry steps closer to her, not even close to touching her still but her hair stands on end across her arms and a shiver rolls down her spine. 
Harry dips his head into the crook of Aurora’s shoulder and he pauses before letting his lips fall to the sliver of bareskin between the trim of her tshirt and the base of her neck.  Another shiver runs down her spine and Harry lets a chuckle vibrate against her skin. 
“You know, we should probably take a look at some of my trousers, they seem to fit a bit tighter than before,” he says casually when he pulls away. He takes a swig from Aurora’s drink nonchalantly. His calm demeanor and confidence frustrates Aurora and she shakes her head lightly. “Why’re you shaking your head?” Harry asks through a light laugh, setting the glass back down, now substantially less full.
Aurora sighs and purses her lips in thought. She finishes off what’s left of her drink before speaking, needing all the courage she can get to say what she really wants to say out loud. “I could give you a list of reasons why your pants fit differently, babe.” Making eye contact with Rob she signals she needs another drink. Harry’s mind draws completely blank when Aurora reaches over and hooks her finger in one of his belt loops, her fingers grazing along the fabric and stitches. “But, it seemed like your dancing was the culprit tonight…” Aurora adds, continuing to mindlessly run her fingertips lightly of the stitches on the waistband of his trousers. Harry huffs at her, finally focusing on her face instead of her hands. 
“Think it was more than the dancing,” Aurora’s eyebrow raises at the sound of Harry’s voice. It was deeper than normal, it sunk to her bones and she’s now consumed by the mixture of his voice and the look in his eyes. His pupils have expanded and even in the dark light Aurora could tell that his bright green irises are only a small ring around his dark pupils. One of Harry’s hands lands on her thigh, “I think I have you to blame for tonight.” Aurora’s entire body stills, her hands loosely grip the belt loop and she lets out a shaky breath. She wasn’t expecting him to be so bold but then she remembers the events from earlier that night. Memories of Harry on stage flash across the inside of her eyelids as she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She shakes her head before reaching both of her hands up to Harry’s neck. He complies with her movements and leans down closer to her. 
“Ror.” Harry’s breath fans across Aurora’s face. Aurora voice is stuck at the bottom of her throat and she hopes that she’s relaying what she’s feeling and thinking through her eyes. Before she can think any longer she lets her lips press against Harry’s. They’re both hesitant, relishing in the moment. Aurora grips at the shorter hair at the back of Harry’s neck when his lips press a little harder into hers. She can feel Harry’s shoulders relax as he continues to kiss her. His hands find grip at her waist as his hot breath fans over her face when they break apart for barely a second. Their noses bump slightly before Aurora connects their lips again. The various sounds of the bar are drowned out completely and they don’t know how long they stay kissing at the bar counter. 
Harry pulls away first and Aurora finds herself chasing his lips. Harry chuckles at her actions, endeared by her confidence in the moment. “Hey,” he whispers when she opens her eyes. 
“Hey,” she whispers back, her lips almost close enough to brush against his again. Harry grabs their drinks from the counter after taking a moment between them. 
“Come on,” he says motioning his head towards their group sitting at a large corner booth. Aurora is taken off guard by Harry’s casual transition. When Aurora doesn’t move Harry reaches down and presses a quick kiss to her lips. “Come on, love.” Aurora huffs and jumps off of the stool she was sitting on and reaches for the crook of his elbow. Harry smiles down at her as they walk towards their friends. 
It’s as if nothing had changed. They slide into the booth and fit into the conversations that were already happening. Harry’s complementing a story Adam is telling with a quick witty joke when he moves his beer bottle to his other hand and places his now free arm around Aurora’s shoulder. Harry can feel Aurora’s chest rattle when she gives a good laugh at his jokes. He smiles as he watches her join into the conversation. She even lets a hand rest on Harry’s thigh, squeezing it every so often. Harry presses constant kisses to her hair or behind her ear.
Aurora’s got her 3rd Whiskey Soda in front of her and she turns to look at Harry as he finishes a story. Mitch takes over the story for Harry, going on about one of their crazy times in Jamaica and Harry takes the opportunity that is presented in front of him. With all the attention on Mitch and Aurora still gazing up at him, he connects their lips. They’re both smiling into the kiss. It doesn’t last long, a quick peck, before they’re both engrossed in the story being told. 
The night escalates and somehow Harry gets everyone to stand up and dance around the bar. They’re the only group left and they’ve taken control over the sound system. As “Girls on Film” by Duran Duran blast through the speakers, Harry grabs for Aurora’s hands and is dancing her around, twisting her this way and that, throwing in a few spins, and pressing their lips together whenever he can. Aurora’s cheeks hurt from the wide grin that’s been on show majority of the night. She throws her head back while singing along to the song and Harry can’t think he’s been much happier than he is right now. He thanks the alcohol that’s running through both of their systems but also acknowledges that it’s pushed both of their guards down. 
Harry asks Aurora to come back to his hotel room when they leave the bar. She kindly declines, even after Harry drunkenly clarifies that he just wants to sleep but doesn’t want to say goodnight. He never wants to say goodnight. Harry walks Aurora to her own hotel room instead. He’s said something that neither of them can remember but has put both of them into an absolute laughing mess outside Aurora’s door. 
Harry takes Aurora’s face in his hands, gently once they’ve both taken a breath and stopped laughing. Looking at her eyes then her mouth, then her eyes again, he finally closes the small gap between them. The kiss is kind of messy, but neither mind in that moment. Harry furthers the kiss taking Aurora’s bottom lip in between his and sucks lightly, a small whine coming from Aurora. He likes her reaction and does the same action with her top lip. Another whine. Aurora’s hands roam Harry’s broad shoulders and Harry’s hands move down to her waist, leaning her against the hotel room door. When the door rattles slightly their both reminded that they are standing in the hallway of the hotel. Harry pulls away with regret. 
“I’ve got an early flight to Italy,” he says because he actually cannot think of anything good to say that will compare to this moment. He shakes his head in an apology knowing he broke the moment. “I’ll see you tomorrow evening, okay?” 
Aurora nods, dizzy from the whiskey and Harry’s lips. Before she closes her hotel room door behind her Harry kisses her cheek and gives her an eye wrinkling smile. It’s safe to say that Harry and Aurora both fall asleep with grins etched into their faces. There are no traces of regret or worry in Aurora’s thoughts from the events that happened tonight and she finally feels at ease. 
I hope you enjoyed !!!! Comments & feedback ALWAYS extremely welcome !!!! Share it with your friendsssssss :)))) love you mean it. 
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musicallisto · 4 years
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♉️(1/2) Hello Honey!! 🌸✨ I was wondering if I could please get a Harry Potter ship Drabble? (Prompt #41 from the list please! 😊) My name is Margaret. I'm a straight female, standing at 5’4, ENFP, ♉️, Hufflepuff & I wear glasses. I have fair skin & long brown, curly hair. I radiate big musical theatre kid energy. Because of that, I’m incredibly outgoing & am able to make friends really easily. I also radiate massive mom energy-
♉️(2/2) -(I’m kind-hearted, patient, & I’m really good with children). Though I'm usually all sunshine, rainbows, & smiles, I also enjoy things like true crime. I enjoy artsy things like drawing, singing, dancing, etc... & am a hopeless romantic who gets attached to people very easily. I’m also a self-titled critic of things ranging from video games to movies (though I love both). I dress soley for comfort. Thank you so much and I hope you have a great day/night!! 💕🌸✨
ϟ Footloose (George Weasley x Margaret)
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author notes: first of all, are you my long-lost twin? we have so much in common it’s insane. second, I hope you like your ship! I’m sure you would be perfect with George, as a chaotic but happy, goofy and fun-loving couple. God, I had so much fun writing this and listening to footloose on loop.
prompt: #41. “May I have this dance?”
word count: 1,7k
your song: kenny loggins - footloose (from “footloose” soundtrack)
MUGGLES HAD PROM. You were certain of it, even if you had never set foot in a muggle school, because your muggle friends would rave about the formal dance each time you saw them. Who was the best dressed, what scandal or love triangle the prospect of dates had revealed, and whether the infamous prom King and Queen deserved the title. You listened politely, and although the idea of being asked by a handsome boy and dancing the night away in a fluffy dress under countless stars seemed somewhat appealing to your romantic heart, you still believed it was all a pretty superficial mascarade.
Your opinion of it all completely changed when the Yule Ball came around the corner at Hogwarts.
It turned out that it was extremely fun to see the entire school bubbling with excitement and teenage crushes. Suddenly, the grounds buzzed with excitement everywhere students walked, and from time to time the joyous chatter of the Hufflepuff common room would make way for a shy proposal. The few days preceding the dance, the professors themselves could hardly focus on anything else than the ball - the amusement it would entail for some, the sheer horror of having to watch over hundreds of hormonal students for most.
You barely expected it - some part of your heart did, as always, but it was foolish to entertain those dreams -, and yet, a few days before the fateful night, George asked you to be his date, and you accepted it an heartbeat. To be fair, you would have asked him if he had not, even if it were just as friends; you couldn’t pass up on the opportunity of enjoying a night of dancing and music and free food and laughter with your two best friends. However, when George had made it clear that he was asking you as his date with that self-assured and goofy smile you loved, and not just his best friend like you had been for years, you were thrilled. You barely focused on your classes, anxiously awaiting the ball.
When the famous night finally arrived, you were even more bubbly than usual, and had been laughing all day at any random comment you’d heard. Your friends had largely teased you all evening, bringing up your crush on George with silly voices. Denying it was of no use anymore, you figured... besides, as you got to the Great Hall to meet George there, bouncing up and down in your flowy, gold - comfortable nevertheless! - dress, you promised yourself nothing would undermine your good mood.
Quite the contrary, actually. It soared high up in your chest when you ran down the main staircase, your heels resounding like a joyous firecracker, to where George was waiting for you next to his brother. A little flare rose up in your ribcage at the sight of him in a tuxedo, complete with the bowtie he swore he would never get close to, but you focused on your own smile as to not let your cheeks redden in front of him.
“Madame,” George purred with a grin, extending his arm to you.
Sticking out your tongue at Fred’s mock whistling, you linked your arm to George’s, and with a pang of excitement that you suspected was more due to his warm chest right next to yours than to the actual dance, you marched into a winter wonderland. On your best friend’s arm, shining in gold against his black, you were a blizzard princess entering a realm of magic on the most beautiful night of your life.
You couldn’t keep the grin off your face as you watched the Triwizard Tournament champions open the ball. By the way George held you close on the side of the dancefloor, shoulders relaxed and his cheek brushing the side of your head, you could tell there were no hard feelings on his part for not being able to rig the tournament and compete as well. Still, as you swayed lightly to the music, without even realizing it completely, you couldn’t help wishing you were gliding gracefully with your love in your arms, before everyone’s eyes, like in a fairytale...
As you formulated the thought, and pushed your mindless sulking to the side of your head - this was a ball, after all, and you were there to dance, and you would! -, George pulled away just a little, and offered you a hand in the most (and way too for it to be natural) gallant way, although you could tell by his eyes that he was really enjoying making a spectacle of himself.
“May I have this dance, my lady?”
At that, you giggled. “My lady”. What absurdities had you heard from this mouth in so many years, only to be bested by him trying to be a gentleman! You adored it, though. He was an idiot, but a gentle bolt of love coursed through your veins at how special it made you feel.
“You are my date, George. Of course you can have this dance.”
“I’m just making sure. Nothing tells me that you haven’t started hating me from the moment we stepped inside.”
“I will hate you if we don’t dance.”
No, you wouldn’t hate him. Besides, you can tell he’s eager to waltz with you, just as much as you are with him. As he leads you to the center of the dancefloor among the other couples, and settles his hand on your waist, however, a flash of panic dawns on you.
“George, I... I can’t really dance.”
Yet your hand finds his shoulder like you’ve waltzed a hundred times before. Maybe the practice in your dreams has translated into the certainty of your arms, like a serene haze taking over you.
“Does Harry look like he knows how to dance?” George replies, unfazed.
You huff, remembering his clumsy steps, and Parvati’s excruciatingly obvious efforts not to wince whenever he would dig his heel into her shoes. So much for being the Chosen One, destroyer of Evil, child of prophecy, youngest Gryffindor Seeker and Magnet to Trouble; the boy surely can’t manage his feet and hands doing two different things at the same time.
“Then we’ll make it work. We can’t be worse, right?”
You barely had the time to nod before the music picked up again in a gentle ternary rhythm, and you stepped backwards with as much elegance as you could to conceal the fact that really, you were just instinctively dodging George’s foot. However, as the song progressed, and you grew less stiff, letting the warmth radiating from George’s fingers melt you down, your steps became more fluid, aerial almost, and a wave of contentment surged over you when you noticed that waltzing was not that dreadful after all, that you'd seen it done before hundreds of times on TV and in musicals, and that when George twirled you around, your dress lifted up ever so slightly and blew a ravishing breeze on your ankles. Each time he did, you retained a giggle, and your heart opened more. From the corner of your eye, you noticed other couples, still indecisive, scrutinizing your legs. They were all trying to understand what spell Margaret and George, of all people, had used to float a few inches above the ground.
There was no spell, no trick. Just smiles, frenetically beating hearts behind composed and amused faces, a glimmer of laughter barely contained, and unbreakable trust and guidance.
Just what you would have called love, if someone had asked you...
All too soon, the song came to a halt, letting the last notes sizzle quietly, hovering in the air around you. Just a little breathless, you looked up at George, and saw an infinite devotion in his eyes when they draped over yours.
“Thank you,” you murmured over the sound of your erratic heartbeat and the violins dying down onstage.
“Why, the pleasure’s all mine,” he responded, leaning in slightly.
The same careful fire pulled you toward him, your lips upturned to meet his for the first time... and then an all too familiar beat broke the silence, thunderous and frenetic, and you realized what you were about to do. Suddenly you had pulled back, cheeks crimson and short of breath, not only because you recognized one of your favorite Muggle musical songs to dance to, but also due to the wave of adrenaline that washed over you and painted you red.
“Merlin! I can’t believe they’re playing this!”
“What is this?” he yelled back, beaming as well. A single silver star shone in his eyes. There would many opportunities to pick up where you left off later. But you could only dance to Footloose with George at the Yule Ball once.
“It’s Muggle rock! Dance with me!”
Grabbing his arm, you led him to the centermost point of the dancefloor, where gasping, enthusiastic Muggleborns were already bouncing in a circle. George followed you, not knowing a thing of what was happening, but laughing nonetheless. No use in knowing the details when you’re certain you’re going to have a good time.
“How did that movie go again?” you yell at another student, bouncing excitedly on their feet, but they merely shook their head with unbridled energy and got back to jumping around.
“I have no idea what I’m supposed to do!” George exclaimed, barely containing his laughter anymore. Stars of glitter covered your eyes and every morsel of your skin - you were having none of that.
“Me neither! Just follow the rhythm! If I can learn to do it, then you can learn to do it!”
You couldn’t feel your feet before the chorus even kicked in, but the lyrics came to you like second nature, and soon you were twisting and twirling and jumping under George’s arm, who, judging by the everlasting creases by his eyes, much prefered this kind of party. Your golden skirt, lifted in the air with every movement you made, shone like a thousand suns in this palace of ice. And yet George and your’s laughter was the brightest spot in the entire castle of ardent souls losing themselves to a frenetic Muggle guitar riff.
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1-800-hellraiser · 4 years
Text
Born This Way (Jane the Killer x Female! Lesbian!Reader)
Pages: 5.1 
Words: 1,793
Genre: I have no Idea tbh/kinda fluffy?
Associated song: Born this way - Lady Gaga
!Tw! Swearing and alcohol
(P.s Happy Pride! :))
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
"No matter gay, straight, or bi, lesbian, transgendered life. I'm on the right track baby, I was born to survive."
    You stand nervously at Jane's door, trying to work up the nerve to knock. 'Why is this so fucking difficult for me?' You ask yourself, you don't really know. You want to ask Jane to go to a pride parade with you and Clockwork that's somewhat close to the mansion. But, you can't bring yourself to ask her. You don't want to be a pussy and ask someone else to ask her for you, that's middle school level pussy-ness. You are not going to stoop down to that level. Ever.
   Taking a deep breath, you knock on Jane's door. You immediately regret it as you hear a muffled 'I'll be there in a second' through her door. You are tempted to sprint back to your room. Before you could, Jane's door opens. Your breath hitches in your throat. "Oh hey Y/n." "H-hey Jane." You manage out, Jane looks at you funny. "Are you okay Y/n?" Hearing that, you finally come to your senses. 
   "Oh yeah, I'm fine. I just zoned out a bit. But, I came to ask you if you wanted to maybe go to a pride parade with me and Clockwork?" You squeak out, Jane's eyes widen a bit. "I would love that, Y/n. When are we going?" Jane asks, gently rubbing her left hand over her right. "Tomorrow at noon, its going to be on walnut  street. We're gonna walk." You explain, a hint of relief in your tone.
   "Ok, great!" Jane says, putting her hands together. You smile and nod. "I'm gonna go tell Clockwork that you're coming, I'll see you tomorrow." You say, giving Jane a gentle wave, she waves back and goes back into her  room. You silently celebrate in front of her closed door. Then, you happily walk to Clockwork's room.
    After navigating through a few hallways, you find a door with 'Clockwork' messily etched into the wood. You knock on Clockworks door excitedly, rocking back and forth on your heels. After a few seconds, a disheveled looking Clockwork emerges from her room. "What do you want." She slurs, your face explodes into a giant grin. "She said yes!" You say, bouncing on your feet. Clockwork smiles and wipes some drool off of her chin. 
   "That's great, now leave me alone, I'm trying to sleep." Clockwork insists, closing her door on you. That didn't phase you though, since she's just like that. You go back to your room to find something to do. You arrive back at your room and decide to pick out some clothes for pride tomorrow.
   You decide to take the lesbian flag you have hanging above your bed with you. You search through your wardrobe and find a sleeveless flannel with the lesbian flag colors. You take that and find a pair of black jean shorts. You grab those and look for a pair of socks. You find knee high rainbow socks with white hearts you got last year from Spencer's. You also have some bracelets that are the lesbian flag colors. You set your outfit on top of your dresser and look around for something to do. 
   You glance at the clock on your wall. It reads 10:37 (22:37) pm. You decide to shower and hit the hay. You grab your pjs and walk to the bathroom. You grab some towels from the cabnet next to the sink. You place your pjs on the edge of the sink and strip off your old clothes. You toss your old clothes to the side, and turn on the shower. You step in and let the warm water cascade over you. 
   Stepping out of the shower, you wrap at towel around your figure. After you dry off, you brush through your h/c mess of hair. After that, you brush your teeth and pick up your clothes and put them in with the rest of your dirty clothes. You finally flop onto your bed and slowly slip out of consciousness.
   Tomorrow arrives with a bang, literally. Clockwork got back at you for waking her up by sneaking into your room with a gun and firing it in your room. Thankfully, nothing was damaged. "YOU MOTHERFUCKER." You screech falling off your bed. Clockwork is doubled over crying. "You ass!" You yell, Clockwork only laughs harder.
   You sigh loudly, "I'll deal with you later, I need to shower." You sigh and close the door on the dying Clockwork. You collect your pride apparel and trudge into the bathroom. You peel off your pjs and toss them aside. You test the water before getting in the shower. The water is perfect, so you step in. 
   Stepping out of your nice morning shower, you feel refreshed. You dry yourself off, brush your hair and teeth, then get dressed. You also used body paint and painted the lesbian flag on the bottom of your right eye and the top of your left eye. You look at yourself in the mirror. You smile, you look cute today, you hope Jane thinks the same.
   You blush and shake your head, ridding that thought from your mind. You walk out of the bathroom with your pjs, butting them back to wear tonight. You put in your shoes and gather your things. You leave your room and notice that Clockwork left. You shrug and walk down to the living room. Clockwork is decked out in pride gear, but Jane isn't so much. She does, however, have a medium sized lesbian flag laying on her lap and lesbian flags painted on the cheeks of her mask. 
    "Wow Y/n, you look cute." Jane muses, resting her face in her hand, being careful of her makeup. "O-oh, thanks, Jane." You respond, gliding your fingertips over your flushed cheek. "Well, we better get going, I want to get there early before it get's to rowdy," Jane states. You nod, some pride serve alcohol for the adults, some don't serve alcohol. The pride closest to you, does. You follow Jane and Clockwork out the door and make your way through the forest.
   You finally make it to pride. There are quite a few people there already. About, 50-100 people, with more probably on their way. There are many flags, of course. There are the most common ones, like the gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, transgender, nonbinary, genderqueer, LGBTQ+ ally, and many more flags. But there are also some that are less common, such as intersex, omnisexual, aromantic, asexual, polysexual, and even lithromantic flags. 
   You're so happy to see so many people that are accepting of themselves and others. You feel this fuzziness inside you, and it's not just the beer. You feel at home, safe. You look around at the people, and vendors. The vendors are selling food and apparel for people that want to buy it. There are also a few drag queens and kings walking around, taking pictures with people. There is also music, the song playing right now is 'Born This Way' by Lady Gaga. 
   "Holy shit, is that Trixie Mattel?!" You hear Clockwork shout over the music. You turn and sure enough, it is the infamous Trixie Mattel. "It sure is." You add, Clockwork grabs your and Jane's wrists and proceeds to drag you to ho meet her. You giggle, for as long as you known Clockwork, you've known about her love for the queen. Clockwork watches Trixie's videos religiously. 
   Once you reach the queen, Clockworks freezes. You never seen her do this before, at all. Jane taps Trixie on the shoulder. "Excuse me, Ms. Mattel?" Trixie turns around and smiles at Jane. "Oh honey, no need to be so formal! Please, call me Trixie." The queen declares, Jame nods. "Okay, Trixie, my friend Natalie here wanted to get a picture with you, she's a huge fan." Jane explains, nudging Clockwork closer to Trixie. 
   Clockwork snaps out of her broken-ness and grins ear to ear. She pats around her pockets for her phone, a look of panic sets onto her facial features as she realizes she left her phone at home. You hand her your phone, "I'll send you the picture when we go back home," You affirm. Clockwork smiles and hugs you tightly, "Oh my god thank you Y/n, you're the best!" "You're welcome." You say, patting her back. 
   Clockwork goes up to Trixie, Trixie wraps her harm around Clockwork and Clockwork wraps her arm around Trixie's waist. Clockwork snaps the picture, says a quick 'thank you' and scuffles away. After she walks away, she bounces on her heels, gushing about how nice Trixie is and how cool she is. You giggle at Clockwork fangirling over her favorite queen. 
   You, Jane and Clockwork had fun at pride. You won a dance competition between you and a random person who bet on you losing. You gained twenty dollars from that experience. Jane got hit on by a lot of women and used you as an excuse to get away from it all, while Clockwork made out with a total of twelve single people. Eight female and four male. You bought some more pride apparel at some of the vendors and some fucking amazing food. Clockwork also got drunk and threw up in a trashcan, that's when you and Jane decided to call it a day.
   You and Jane haul a drunken Clockwork up to her room. "Nooooo, I wanna go *hic* backkkkk." She pleads, Jane shakes her head. "Clockwork, you're very drunk, we can't go back, besides, it was getting dark anyways." You try to explain, but it didn't work. You open Clockwork's bedroom door and lay her on her bed. You set her phone in her hand and walk out of the room with Jane. 
   "I had a lot of fun today with you, Jane." You inform, rubbing the back of your neck. "I did too, we should do that again sometime." You nod and look down. "Y/n, look at me, I think you have something on your face." You look up at Jane and she leans forward and plants a sweet peck on your lips. "Goodnight Y/n, see you tomorrow," She says. Jane turns and calmly walks away from you. You brush your fingertips over your lips and break out into a goofy grin.
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nedxwynert · 5 years
Text
All Eyes on You | Bucky Barnes x Reader
Request:  131. "You could have died." Bucky Barnes plz
Summary: Bucky Barnes was a stubborn man and always thought of you as a person who will get hurt easily. When your boss, Nick Fury sends you two on a mission to spy on a rogue agent, it'll change how you see the soldier completely.
Warnings: mentions of blood, protective Bucky, swearing, angst, crying, betrayal, Bucky being an ass, perverts, sexual harassment
Word Count:  3,836 (this is a long boi)
Masterlist
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(Gif not mine)
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Some people in today's world hate their job, some people love it. You were the ones to be in the middle. Why was that you may ask?
Well the best part of your job was that you were working with S.H.I.E.L.D., the best and the top agency in the nation. You get to go to many different parts of the world with your missions, some places you never even heard of and learned to love.
Another was to have this adrenaline rush in your body when you went out to do a mission. None of which you could feel in a boring office cubicle. You were also a specially trained spy, and boy were you awesome at your job.
But the best thing of it all was that when the leader, Nick Fury himself, wanted someone he can trust, he would always pick you. To be able to be his most trusted was one thing that was more than rare and you were proud to have his trust.
But what was the worst part of your job? James Buchanan Barnes. Or how he likes to be called, Bucky.
Sure, he has his amazement of his stunning rugged looks and appealing body muscles that look like god spent his precious time sculpting him, but when you and him go on a mission, you butted heads more than you realise like siblings would do fighting over the last cookie, but it got worse over the time. It was getting to the point where it was moving more to just whenever you're just with him such as in hanging out at the base or whenever you went to do your morning workout in the gym.
When you and Bucky first met, he kept seeing you as someone who will easily 
get hurt. In other words, he was being highly protective with you on the missions. He would make you hide and stay clear of the danger then have himself do all the fighting when you were fully aware how to break someone's nose and dislocate their arm with a simple move. Bucky didn't think that way no matter how much you argue with him that you were trained to get information no matter what the cost was. Even if it costed your life.
The moment you saw how he was getting a bit too far with his protectiveness, seeing how you can't cut apples at the base anymore or go on ladders to grab something or put something up, you had enough of this.
It was early in the morning when you heard your alarm waking you up, the blaring beeping noise making you groan. When you looked at the time, your room still dark, you groaned even more as in why the hell was your alarm waking you up at this time. It was then you saw that it was a request from your boss, Fury.
"5AM? You gotta be fucking kidding me." Grumbling into your pillow, you zombily got out of bed and went to the bathroom to fix your hair and clean your face.
The moment you walked to his office, you didn't realise you were still in your long large rainbow cat shirt, your pink shorts and outrageously bright rainbow coloured fuzzy socks. A dark blush settling into your cheeks when you saw you weren't alone in the room.
"Morning sleeping beauty," chuckled Bucky as he turned around in one of the office chairs in front of Fury's desk, those ocean eyes raking up and down your body and a ridiculously bright smile on his lips you would very much like to slap off of his face. He's lucky that he looks too pretty or else you would've beat the shit out of him.
"Good morning, idiot." Shuffling to the office chair next to his, rolling your eyes to the point they could look into your skull from how he still couldn't stop giggling like a schoolgirl from your nighttime outfit. It only stopped when heavy footsteps were heard that were obviously your boss', both standing up when you saw him walk into the room.
"You two argue more than an old married couple. I'm surprised you two aren't married yet because of it," chuckled Nick as he walked to behind his desk. It was only then when his eyes met....well....eye met your outfit and you could see that goofy smirk on his lips before he motioned you both to sit back down as he picked up a file on his desk and opened it, sliding it to you. "I know it's early, but I need both of you for this mission and I need information fast before things get out of hand."
Your hands found the file and held it, searching through it as Bucky was trying to glance at it as well like a kid trying to look over the counter. It held pictures of two young men who were agents here at S.H.I.E.L.D. that kept a look after the weapons in storage. But your eyes looked over to one of the pictures of the agents. It hit you hard when you saw who it was.
One of them was your friend.
Well, now he wasn't anymore by how the papers are saying that there has been weapons going missing and other agents taking suspicion over the two men. Fury looked at you when you stared at the picture of your friend, clearing his throat to try to get your attention. "Agent Y/N, I know you're in touch with one of these men, and I want you to push these feelings aside. It'll jeopardise the mission. Do you understand?" Eyes looked up from the picture to the bald man who now leaned against the desk in front of you, arms crossed. Bucky took this moment to snatch the folder out of your hands and looked through it. "Yes, sir."
You hated to think that you'll probably kill your friend. The one who helped you during hard nights and made you laugh in the mornings. He made you feel better after the mess with Bucky and you didn't want to lose that feeling of someone there to comfort you
 ___________
Tears dripped down your cheeks as you sat in your bed Your sobs stopped when you gasped when the door to your bedroom opened. You hoped it wasn't Bucky, but luck was with you tonight when you saw a tired blonde poke his head in.
"Y/N?" Once his eyes saw that you were quickly wiping your cheeks with your sleeve, he took that as a sign that you were in a need to be comforted, stepping inside your room and closing the door gently behind him so it didn't alert anyone else nearby. "Why are awake? It's 2AM." A sniffle broke the short silence while he sat on your bed, being careful not to touch you unless you gave him the consent to. You tried your best to hold back your sobs, but that failed horribly as you thought back of what happened that day with Bucky.
You were with him on a mission, sneaking into a base to grab some papers of some incoming threats. It was going well before Bucky saw you getting a few hits from a few guards who saw you. You never saw him so mad, trying his best not to just kill the men who dare lay a hand on you, but when the mission was complete and you were heading back home, he snapped at you. Of course you have been yelled at a lot with your work. When Bucky yelled at you, it was different. It took a lot of strength to not to cry you saw how irritated he was at you for getting hurt. It was so sudden and so hurtful, you didn't have enough time to say something back. So to say, the rest of the ride home was silent while the air was drenched in rage around Bucky.
You told your friend everything that happened, ending up with him wrapping his arms around you while you sobbed the pain out.
"At least give me the right to punch him in the face, Y/N." The crying stopped as it was replaced with giggles. Teary eyes looked up to the male, brown ones looking back as he wiped the tears that rolled down your cheeks with his thumb, happy to see that he could at least make you giggle.
"As much as I want you to, I don't want you to get involved into this mess and then see it escalate even more. At some point it has to be me punching him in the face." A smile curled at your lips before you decided to give your friend one last hug and bidding him to go back to bed once the tears stopped and you were feeling better. But he would always stand in the doorway and look back at you to know if you were really okay, leaving before you got up to shoo him away back to his room.
That night was one of the worst, but it was better after him stopping by and talking to you of what happened between you and Bucky, and making you giggle at how badly he wants to punch the guy who was making his friend this upset. He was all you had to talk to without other people spreading it out like highschool drama when all you want is a one on one conversation where it was only between the two of you. You wouldn't know what to do if you never met him.
___________
"You two will leave in an hour. Other information will be informed when you're on your way." With a quick motion of his hand, the two of you left the room and went to were your gear was. You could feel the super soldier's eyes bore into the back of your head, but you paid no attention to him. The only thought that was going through your mind was your friend who has a high possibility of dying today and another high possibility that it was you to end his life.
It wasn't long until you arrived at a coffee shop in Queens, New York. Sitting outside, you got a perfect view of where the two rogue agents were gonna meet across the street, but deep inside you wished you didn't see your friend show up. You were thinking of all the possibilities of trying to save your friend if he attacked you, but they were interrupted by a voice in your ear piece that made your coffee now bitter to your tongue.
"So who is this guy? Is he like..your boyfriend?" The tone of the soldier sounded like he was trying to hide jealousy behind it, knowing very well how he gets when he is jealous. He just can't stop getting into your business when he does. In a way it was kinda cute but highly annoying. You scoffed and kept your head into the book you were 'reading', sipping the coffee. "Why do you care, Barnes?" Eyes left the book to over to the table in front of you where he sat, looking dorky in his undercover outfit. "Are you jealous of him?" You said in a snarky tone, smirking against the rim of the cup.
"No," he replied quickly. "Was just curious." He paused for a moment and looked into his cup filled with the dark liquid and swished it around. "I see the way he acts around you. Reminds me of the time Steve got a little tipsy at a party when I got to be enlisted into the army. Little punk was flirting with every girl he could see." A deep chuckle left his lips, glancing up to see him smile at the memory before those blue eyes looked over at you and you quickly looked back down to your book in hopes that he didn't notice you were staring at him. "I may be a hundred years old, doll, but I know when a man is lovestruck by a gal." You rolled your eyes. Bucky must've seen you when you did that as his chuckle filled your ear again.
Just as you were taking a drink, he couldn't hold back but say, "but I don't blame the guy. I would've been flirting with you if he didn't take my place so soon." Hot liquid suddenly spilled onto your shirt, feeling it go down the wrong way in your throat and making you cough while people around looked at you, trying to alter yourself on what you just heard Bucky say to you.
Before you could even say anything back, your eyes found the man you dreaded to see, the other agent right beside him as they stopped in one of the alleyways, still getting a perfect view of the two while they talked. You wished you could hear what they were talking about, trying your best to not stare when they looked around for anything or anyone suspicious, like you. Both of you were ready for anything to happen, your hand gracing at the belt around your jeans where your pistol was hidden and knew very well that Bucky was doing the same. The loud thumping in your ear from your heart racing didn't help you when you were trying to focus on their lips on what they were saying. But one thing did and you felt your heart race even more like it was about to explode.
They were talking about a bomb.
"We need to move." Closing your book, you stood and carried your cup to the waste bin before taking a glance at Bucky. "I think one of them has a bomb."
Immediately after you said that, you could see how tense his shoulders got and his head quickly turned to the two men across the street. "Stay here," he said lowly as he also stood up, making his way towards you to toss his cup. Here we go again.
"You aren't one to give me orders, Buck. I'm going whether you like it or not. Fury ask us to do this mission. Not just you." The look he gave you was surprising. He was shocked at you by the way you just talked to him. You spun on your heels and began to walk the sidewalk where you can get to a crosswalk and get closer to your target. Their words came out clearer as you got closer to them and you wished you didn't hear them. The voice of your friend sent chills down your spine. His words were so cruel and nothing like the man who would laugh with you cause of some stupid memes or the friend who had your back and comforted you on hard nights where you could let your emotions out. He betrayed you.
"So what about this girl you have been keeping an eye on? Y/N was her name, right?" You heard the other agent say.
"Don't you mean Fury's little pet?" He laughed coldly and it stung you. "Don't worry. I have her close by my side. Little bitch can give me a headache with all the moping she does in her room." They both chuckled. "And don't get me started on her whorish crush on Barnes. I honestly don't know how she finds that guy attractive."
The flower you were holding from a small flower stand dropped when you heard him talk about your secret. You never actually told him about your little crush on Bucky. How in the hell did he know? You kept all of those feelings locked away in a journal under your bed. Bastard must've stolen it one night he heard you crying.
"But believe me. For being Fury's little pet, she does have a nice body that I wouldn't mind getting my hands all over. You should see her in the shower, man. She has an ass that most men dream of."
This fucking pervert! He even watched you when you were taking a shower?
The rage in your body couldn't contain itself anymore and you stormed your way over to that alleyway, walking straight to them while they still talked. They didn't notice you at first but once you were so close to the ass who dares to talk about you like this, you didn't hold back your fist that rammed into his face as it knocked him back and stumbled his perverted ass onto the hard concrete floor. The other agent swinged at you but you simply blocked and punched him not as hard as you did to the blonde.
"Y/N." he purred in a way it made you sick of how your name left his lips, "You have quite the swing for a whore." He used the back of his hand to wipe the blood that was dripping from his lips, your anger boiling even more inside of you by the names he dared to give you.
"Shut your fucking mouth!" Eyes glared at him as your chest heaved, fists still clenched as you stood there while they got back up for another fight. They laughed at you like as if you were a kid trying to fight them. "Awww. Did I hurt your wittle feelings?" His pouted his lip at you, looking down at you.
"I said to shut your fucking mouth," you growled. They laughed again, but it soon stopped when they looked over your shoulder and were now pale in the face.
"I best suggest to do what she says." Oddly enough, the sound of Bucky's voice was now soothing to you, hearing him walk next to you as you could also hear the metal plates in his arm move from him clenching his fist. The men's eyes went from Bucky to you where you had a dangerous look in your eyes. That dread you once felt for killing your friend earlier today was long gone. He betrayed you and no one gets out alive with that with you.
The two agents charged at you and Bucky, but they were no match to you both. Many punches were thrown, managing to get a few in and a bruising one close to your eye where you know very well that you'll get a black eye later. Bucky on the other hand? He kept to his target and was still holding back the urge to kill them all, blocking punches that were weak against his super soldier strength, taking his time on beating up the agent.
When they fell to the floor with another bone crunching punch, they breathed heavily and looked up to you where anger never failed to stop boiling. The blonde clutched his stomach where you got a few blows in, he started to laugh and spit the blood in his mouth to on your shoes. "What is so funny?" This time it was Bucky to snap at them. The man just kept on laughing and he looked at you with his brown eyes, a smirk coming to his red lips.
"You don't fight good when you're angry, Y/N. You always forget what you had on you when that little blood starts to boil." Before you could even make a move when you went to reach for your pistol and notice that it was gone, you saw him pull your gun out from his pocket and heard him fire a round as it echoed the alley walls of New York, a sudden pain in your body and the feeling of wetness that made your clothes stick to your skin. You went to see where he shot you but your vision narrowed all around and everything was blurry. Next thing you know, all you could see was black.
The only thing that brought you back from the darkness was a noise that constantly beeps in your ears. Then you could see the bright light that was too much for your eyes to quickly adjust to. Once they did had their time to, the room you were in wasn't one you were familiar with and it confused you. That is until you looked down and saw that you were laying in a hospital bed.
When you went to move yourself up, a groan left your parched lips and soon you felt a touch on your arm and a shushing tone to relax.
"Y/N? Thank god. I thought I lost you there for a second." The voice was familiar and when you could see better and your eyes were no longer blurry, Bucky's face came to view.
"It's tough to get rid of me, Buck," you chuckled, instantly regretting it as the pain erupted from your stomach and you groaned. Blue eyes never left you as they held something in them you haven't seen before. That's when you looked down and saw as he would take your hand into his flesh one and lifted it to his lips. "You could have died back there. When I saw what he was doing, I should've stepped in front of you. Seeing you this much in pain is hard to see."
Bucky was always the one to protect you, and now he failed to do that like every other person he tried to protect from both himself and others.
"Don't blame this on yourself. I should've trust the guy anyways." Your cheeks felt hot as you could see how much he cared for you and how he held your hand as if it were touched by the gods. When those ocean eyes met yours again, you couldn't help but gulp and feel the butterflies in your stomach begin to move. Only if you wished to know, but Bucky's stomach was doing the same thing as you gazed at each other.
It felt like forever before one of you broke the awkward silence between you two, still blushing when you saw that he was still holding your hand. It was like two socially awkward teenage kids with how you two were acting, giving glances at one another and smiling softly. Only that Bucky was acting more nervous like he wanted to tell you something.
The brunette cleared his throat and averted his eyes from you and you could hear the nervousness in his voice when he asked you, "W-will you allow me to m-make it up to you for all of this and...um...go out on a d-date with me?" The most deadly assassin in history, sitting here next to your bed, nervous as hell to ask you on a date. How ironic to find that he can get so cute when he's nervous.
"On one condition." He finally looked back at you, his knee bouncing more nervously in what you had to say. "I get to pick where we go to eat."
Thank you for reading! Did you enjoy? If so, please consider to heart and reblog. Many writers today don’t get much credit for the hard work they put into their writing. And with that, have a wonderful day! :)
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dmydfilmreviews · 5 years
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MARVEL MOMENTS
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 So what they really did, as well as making a good load of films, was actually make a vast tapestry of genius interwoven moments like flicking through a big comic book! Ten years! Twenty something movies! A load of rubbish images at the end of the list because the last three films weren’t officially out on Blu Ray! Avengers assssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
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Tony Builds the First Suit
 Really it was a stroke of brilliance to start the whole shebang with Iron Man the self-made superhero. The backbone of the whole universe is that of Tony making himself and that all kicks off here, in a sequence that’s hugely thematically satisfying given what comes later. There’s also the fact that back in the day all this construction stuff was just fucking cool, a Nolan-lite bedrock for a blend of realism and fantasy that comic-book cinema had never quite nailed before. Seeing Tony improve his tech step-by-step is a quiet pleasure of these movies, the suits getting more and more outlandish but staying absolutely believable, just like the films, and that all kicks off here with one guy and a non-magical hammer.
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Pepper Pulls Out Tony’s Heart
 I noted these all down before Endgame, honestly. Sob. It was always his story really. The best example of the foundational relationship of the MCU: They finish each other’s sentences!
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‘Truth is… I am Iron Man.’
 They knew what they’d got from the very first. This ballsy coda sets the tone for the whole MCU, one of backed-up swagger, a willingness to fuck with the source material in the name of story and the general feeling that Robert Downey Jr. was God. All in like two hours. That they flipped the egotistically iconic line into an era-defining declaration of responsibility, growth and heroism a decade later is nothing short of remarkable.
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Hulk and Betty in the Rain
 It’s uh… it’s a nice comic-book visual of a classic comic book romance, I guess? Look, Hulk came a long way later, but his forgotten love for Betty was the closest they ever came to the source material outside of the Hulk generally smashing and being awesome. It was sweet!
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The Bit Where Hulk Suplexes a Giant Zombie Wolf on the Rainbow Bridge of Asgard
 wait was this in the Incredible Hulk
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I’ve Successfully Privatised World Peace!’ ‘Fuck you, Mr Stark.’
 They got Garry Shandling in these movies!
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The Suitcase Suit
 Now that is a cool-ass adaptation.
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Black Widow Kicks Asses
 Yeah, after a whole movie of being reductive eye-candy she was still reductive eye-candy here. But the scene as a whole’s basically a perfect realisation of her moves in the comics, and showed Marvel were capable of doing someone who wasn’t Iron Man. Then they did EVERYYYYOONNNNNNEEE bonus points for Happy taking out that one guy and yelling ‘I got him!’
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Tony and Rhodey in the Japanese Gardens
 Look, they just look cool, OK? No one said this was going to be deep.
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Tony and Pepper as the Stark Expo Explodes
 They haven’t managed a lot of great romance, but this one hella works: Tony’s overblown mess of a movie expo exploding behind the true love of his life is a visual so great that Shane Black nicked it wholesale for the climax of Iron Man Three: Christmas in Croydon.
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The Frost Giant Throwdown
 Wait, what’s happening? I thought these were the movies where Jeff Bridges rode a Segway? Are we in SPAAAAACCCCCEEEE?
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Thor Can’t Pull It Off
 Out of the big three Thor’s arc of mythology to humanity might be the deepest and most satisfying of all. That starts here with his tearful inability to be worthy of his father, his world and, crucially, himself, leading directly into the first great Thor/Loki exchange, then a whole host of movies that eventually put him through the emotional wringer to self-acceptance. Hopefully?
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Thor and Loki Battle on the Rainbow Bridge
 Yeah, it looks kind of goofy, but this is pure sixties Kirby, shorn of the irony the series would develop later. Beautiful.
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Erskine Points To Cap’s Heart
 That’s it. That’s the character.
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The Star Spangled Man!
 Who’ll hang a noose on the goose-stepping goons from Berliiiin?
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That Whole War Montage That Ends With Bucky Falling From The Train
 Just smash after smash after smash of wartime Cap goodness that we’d never see again, ending with the ‘death’ that’d define the rest of his story. Steve lost as much as Thanos in his quest for peace but, y’know, he wasn’t a total fucking intergalactic dick about it.
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‘I gotta put her in the water!’
 Man alive he waited for that date... whether you think the ending of Endgame ruins the moment somewhat (it doesn’t. sort of), this was still the biggest heart-tugger in the MCU at that point, and defined the characters of Cap and Peggy for years to come. Watch Agent Carter! Just bloody watch it!
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'Lemme Put You On Hold’
 The stand out moment of The Avengers is basically all of it, but let’s start with the moment Black Widow finally becomes a character, a sequence of broad-strokes skill from Scarlett Johansson and Joss Whedon that begged for a movie she finally got way too long later. Bonus points for possibly the greatest Coulson reaction shot in a history of great reaction shots.
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The Helicarrier Ascends
 OK, shit – this is series is big now.
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The Whole of Stuttgart
 Whedon’s love of classical posh entertainment is seen in Angel’s superior ballet episode and his fondness for Sondheim, and he even gets a bit of the ol’ jewellery rattling in here in a perfectly pitched Loki-loving sequence that culminates in some fantastic bits for Cap before Iron Man AC/DC’s all over the place. This is where the comic book stuff really kicks off.
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‘YOU COME HOME!’
 This Hemsworth’s fella’s really got something...
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Forest Bro Down
 Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. The first real Avengers mash-up is just wonderful. This is where the wish-fulfilment really begins, in a quiet clearing, where three superheroes nearly beat the shit out of each other in classic comic-book style. The Avengers assembled.
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The Whole Fuckin’ Helicarrier Sequence
 An absolute masterpiece of blockbuster juggling that had never been done before, this could be the third act of any other film. Over what plays out weirdly like a piece of theatre we get terrifying Hulks, mewling quims and awesome heroics, all expertly laced with wonderful character mash-ups and action we’d never seen before. Then Coulson dies. This is what Joss Whedon does.
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‘There was an idea…’
 Fuck shit yeah there was, and it made for a hell of an Infinity War trailer six years later.
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ALL OF NEW YORK
 Yep, all of it, but if we’re being picky it’s Hulk v Loki for the comedy side, the tracking shot for the action. As a sequence it’s never been bettered in the MCU, even in the open-mouthed joy-gush of Infinity War and Endgame. FIGHT ME
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Go Fish
 Iron Man Three is a wonderful movie that works best as the sum of its parts, but there’s one bit that’s up there with the pantheon: the sky-diving rescue above the bay is such a joyous subversion of the usual third-act super-fisticuffs that it’s like something out of a 70’s Superman movie, only with a hilarious capper at the end where Iron Man explodes under a truck. Beep beep!
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Running the Lemurian Star
 The Russo Brother’s action calling-card for their incredible MCU run, this sets up their vision of Cap’s super-subtle-super-serum-super-moves. From the off it’s a game changer in the way action’s shot across the MCU, clean-cut raid-alikes becoming the order of the day. AND THEN HE FIGHTS BATROC ZE LEAPER
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Elevator Throwdown
 Yeah, yeah, we all know the actual bit in the elevator that’s spoofed to tremendous effect come Endgame, but remember this sequence ends with Cap TAKING DOWN A FUCKING QUINJET SINGLE-HANDED. The look on his face at the end says it all.
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The Winter Soldier Street Fight
HE FLICKS A KNIFE MID PUNCH
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Come and Get Your Love
 We’d seen a lot of cool shit from the MCU by this point, but this was something else again. It’s funny! It’s funny as fuck! What the fuck is this movie? And again, they know their own best bits: the return to this in Endgame is top drawer. What a moron.
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The Kyln Sequence
 This whole breakout is the Guardians at their very best; squabbling in space, reluctant teamwork, loads of cool shit and leg theft. The bit where it all goes anti-grav is a treat.
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WE ARE GROOT
 That’s it. That’s the movie.
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…Stark…
 It’s a shame they didn’t delve deeper into Scarlet Witch’s hatred for the man who murdered her parents, but her barely contained rage is the keystone for Age of Ultron: deeper, nastier, more questioning of it’s heroes and their heroism. This one they brought on all by themselves.
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Sun’s Gettin’ Real Low
 Yeah, maybe it’s for the best the slightly bumbled Hulktasha relationship was forgotten about, but this moment was pivotal in the character development of both. Beautifully shot, and leads to a primo Ragnarok gag.
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Lift That Hammer
 You genuinely could have made a whole movie of these characters hanging out at an open bar. The Stan cameo’s great, the War Machine story bit gets an Endgame alien planet boost much later, but it’s the drunken worthiness competition that’s the real highlight, a seemingly fun throwaway that actually almost single-handedly sets up the whole character of Vision and the most fist-pumping moment of Endgame, a movie nearly entirely composed of fist-pumping moments.
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Hulk vs Hulkbuster
 Pure comic-book wish fulfilment again, and how. From Hulk spitting out a tooth to Tony desperately pleading ‘go to sleep go to sleep go to sleep’, this mad clash of science pals knocks every Transformers movie straight through a freshly-bought-building. Veronica!
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Well Done.
 Alright, Vision’s no one’s favourite Avenger, but he’s one who’s the satisfying product of several movie plots, one beloved supporting AI and the combined brains, magic and cool red capes of his team. Whedon performs his own mad-skillz level script trick to make us accept this fucking weirdo, first by giving him Jarvis’ voice, then having him stare out at a world and see his reflection in it, then having him lift an unliftable character-establishment hammer. None of this could be done by any other film series.
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The Geometry of Belief
 Ultron’s climactic church-a-maggedon is short but perfect, a swirling mass of splash-page insanity that culminates in a glorious trinity of Vision, Iron Man and Thor blasting the shit out of their mad son like a magic triangle. The Avengers at their peak.
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Vision and Ultron Have a Chat
 Whedon pops out these gems of detached humanism from time to time, and his sundown final exchange between The Avenger’s success and failure is a doozy. The most poetic little scene in the whole MCU, voiced by two creatures who look like nightmarish dildos. ‘A thing isn’t beautiful because it lasts’ is an all-timer.
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Big Bathtub
 Ant Man’s bedrock might be its family values, but it’s the shrinking that makes it stand out. The first time Scott drops into tiny-town is a Pixar-esque fun-burst akin to Stephen Strange’s nutso jump into infinity later, with deadly bath taps, thunderclap vacuum cleaners and mid-day apartment raves (?) all bringing a new level of threat and adventure to a series already teeming with variety. They should carry these ones on foreverrrrr
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Cassie’s Room
 There’s something about this scene that sums up Scott’s whole character and hopefully sets up his daughter for future ant shenanigans: he is (was) unique as a hero with a family, and no matter how many Pym Particles he stuffs into his suit he’s always looked like a giant to his daughter. Plus, y’know, Thomas the Tank Engine.
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Some Guy Crashes a Car at Night
 The catalyst for the great middle schism. Civil War is a masterclass of twisting, gut-churning reveals, and this is the quiet moment that starts it all.
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QUEENS
 The perfect Marvel character, introduced into the perfect realisation of the Marvel Universe, perfectly.
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Running Into Each Other At The Airport
LITTLE MAN IS BIG NOW I’M CLINT WE HAVEN’T MET YET I DON’T CARE WHERE YOU FROM KID QUEENS BROOKLYN I’M YOUR CONSCIENCE WE HAVEN’T SPOKEN IN A WHILE YOU GUYS KNOW THAT OLD MOVIE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK HOW OLD IS THIS KID ETC ETC OH MY GOD MY BRAIN HAS EXPLODED
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Cap vs Iron Man
 ‘I don’t care. He killed my mom.’  
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The Big Brain Burst
 They keep doing bits to expand themselves, and this is one of the best, with the most potential for the future. Fleeting, but dazzling.
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New York Mirror Fest
 If the next Strange movies delve into this deranged nonsense then they could end up the greatest of all of them. This is the tip of the iceberg, and it’s still unlike anything else being done in mainstream cinema.
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Mr Blue Sky
 In a movie that frequently reaches big and misses, at least it hits the spot at the beginning. This glorious celebration of family, space-craziness and genre subversion is everything Guardians does best. The Gamora / Groot bit is adorable.
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Peter’s Civil War Adventure
 The perfect tone-setter for the story’s most-average joe, this ground-level view of the universe’s biggest clash acts as a whippet quick intro to Peter Parker’s world in the big bad MCU. It’s always a thrill to see him where he belongs.
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The Homage to Getting Buried Under a Tonne of Crap
 Homecoming’s riffs on classic Spidey-lore are generally pretty subtle, but when it comes time to show what Peter’s really made of Watts rips directly from the best, first with the iconic Parker/Spidey face split and then with him holding up a whole fucking building like he’s nerd Hulk or something. The added ‘come on Spider-Mans’ are the adorable icing on the homage-o-cake.
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Anytime That Immigrant Song Plays
Another!
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Thor vs Hulk
 Yeah, it’s not perfect and it’s a little CGIey. But it’s Thor fighting the Hulk in a fucking galactic gladiator arena place run by Jeff Goldblum and it smashes and it’s full of fun callbacks to previous movies. Yes! That’s what it feels like!
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Thor and Loki Do Get Help
 The perfect encapsulation of Waititi’s irreverent-but-with-tonnes-of-heart freshgasm on the story of Thor, this bit of hilarious dumb shit acts as amusing action beat and neat character resolution all in one. They’re friends again! They’re brothers! Thor throws him around like a rolled up carpet!
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What Are You The God of Again?
 Oh right, so he’s the best Avenger now.
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Killmonger in the Afterlife
 The bloody heart of the most emotional Marvel movie, when Erik Killmonger enters the Wakandan afterlife he finds himself in his own tiny Compton apartment, exiled with his father forever with the plains of eternity just out of reach beyond the window. Heartbreaking, and brilliant.
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Thanos Arrives
 The opening of Infinity War is another example of their absolute mastery of tone; after the megaton funblast of Ragnarok we’re thrown into the end of that movie being ripped apart, before Thanos appears, dragging a battered Thor into frame, beats seven shades of green shit out the Hulk and murders two beloved supporting characters, all without breaking a sweat. If you weren’t excited before you were now.
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New York Tussle
 The opening New York section of Infinity War is all very clever, acting as the only grounding Earthy moment in what’s a pretty out-there narrative in terms of existential stakes. You get Tony and Wong helping people off the sidewalk and Strange winking after halting the space-death-machine, but from there on out it’s full-bore comic-book smackdown fun, clashing characters who’ve never met and providing top-drawer banter about wizards and children’s parties. This is the page, up there on screen.
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BRING ME THANOS!
 BRING ME THANOS!
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The Thanos Fight
 Jesus fucking Christ. Up there with the end of Avengers and the Civil War airport battle, this is a perfect realisation of superhero action, with a bigger dose of high-level insanity courtesy of the Infinity Stones and Doctor Strange. Sublimely realised, incredibly satisfying, with real weight and thought put into the spectacle, it’s also fantastic in the narrative of the film, the culmination of its themes of desperation and inevitability. The first time you saw them try to rip off the gauntlet was unbearable.
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The Snap
 Well, yeah. You’ll never get back the first time you saw this. And imagine seeing it as a fucking kid.#
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Just a Girl
 Sure the big level-up CGI fest at the end is good, but it’s the comedy smackdown on the Kree ship that’s the most satisfying part of Captain Marvel, the shit-eating joy on Carol’s face as she discovers she’s way more powerful than the assholes who’ve been holding her back. It’s corny sure, but it’s hella fun.
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Thor Goes For The Head
 Endgame is a shocking, disorientating blur to begin with, all the characters you loved acting in strange, desperate ways in a super-hero version of post-traumatic stress disorder. Tony’s meltdown is bad enough, but it’s when Thor just straight up fucking murders Thanos that you know this is going to get dark and serious. It doesn’t, it remembers it’s a Marvel movie, but the shot of him walking out into the blurred alien sun, cape aflutter, is a fitting goodbye to a more innocent time of heroics.
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Ant Man and Cassie
 A moment that could be worthy of a whole movie itself, a desperate Scott Lang meeting his five-years-older daughter gives a joke character a serious moment in the same way Infinity War did for Guardians. It’s very odd, very sweet and very Marvel.
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Love You 3000
 Morgan H. Stark is almost a little too on the nose as a wrap-up for Tony, but hell, she’s still sweet as all hell and a perfect capper to his story of fatherhood and responsibility. It’s a mark of the work they’ve put in that we’ll almost immediately accept the tired trope of kid-taking-over-mantle when she inevitably puts on the armour in a few years.
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Steve and Peggy / Tony and Howard
 This is the bit in Endgame where I finally started tearing up: a lot of it is too-neat fan-service, but fuck it, they’ve put in so much effort that it works. This is the scene where you realise both of these long arcs are coming to an end, the resolution of Steve quietly making his decision to go back to Peggy and Tony getting the closer of discussing parenthood with his unknowing father. It’s corny sure, but so are comic books, and setting the whole bit at the height of seventies Marvel Comics mania is a loving nod to the imaginations that made all these crazy possibilities possible.
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Widow and Hawkeye
 There’s a theme here. All of these moments are kind of cheesy and rely heavily on callbacks to previous bits… but at the moment it doesn’t matter because ENDGAME WOW. Maybe we’ll look back at it as a corny misstep, but for the moment, Clint and Tasha having one last, ludicrously overblown tussle for who gets to live is a sweet capper that never goes as deep as the others because they’re supporting characters. It still stings, and it’s a neat mirror to Gamora and Thanos in Infinity War. The red’s gone from her ledger! It’s on the rocks! Urrrgh
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Nebula Kills Herself
 Again, they’re so good that they can spend a big chunk of time in what’s ostensibly the last big movie for their most beloved characters on making a lesser character beloved. Endgame spotlights Nebula even more than Infinity War did Gamora, using her self-hatred and fear of her father for compelling, wibbly-wobbly plot and character beats. The resolution of her story and her newfound place with her team should make for a whole different Guardians before we even get to Fortnite-Thor joining up.
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Cap Wields The Hammer
 ‘I KNEW IT!’
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Thanos’ Army
 One last escalation of scale. When Thanos’ army finally arrives it’s like something out of those apocalyptic Turner paintings, where the hordes of a ship-wrecked hell confront eternity under skies ripped from heaven. Only this time they’re facing one guy called Steve, and they’re fucked. Incredible.
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Avengers… Assemble
 It almost lives up to what you always had in your head. The Marvel Universe, somehow done right.
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Tony Hugs Peter Back
Awwww!
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New Avengers Run the Gauntlet
 A surprising amount of Endgame’s grand finale is given over to the future hopes; while Strange gets stuck in with holding back a Biblical flood it’s up to Black Panther to grab the Infinity Gauntlet from Clint in a delightful callback to Civil War, before embarking on an intense relay race across the entire battlefield that begins with Scarlet Witch crushing the shit out of Thanos’ testicles and ends with Captain Marvel engaging the Mad Titan in a bone-crushing show of super-strength. And along the way if finds time to have Peter Parker dragged through the air by Thor’s hammer which was thrown by Captain America before landing on a Pegasus flown by Valkryie across an exploding sky of alien whales. Maybe the most satisfying run of action since the first Avengers.
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I am Iron Man
 It was always going to be him really. Bonus points for Downey Jr. originally telling Thanos to ‘Fuck off’. Did anyone else keep thinking he was going to wake up and quip and everything would be OK? That’s how you make movies.
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The Funeral
 It looks a little weird actually, like they weren’t all on set. But they were! The Marvel Universe again, holy smokes.
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The Kiss
 Now that’s how you end ten years and twenty one movies. They’re movies! It was romantic! It was exciting! It was fun!
For TEN FUCKING YEARS.
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Swing a Ding Ding Sir
 After five movies of fresh shit they've finally starting dumping some classic Spider-Man on us; the Euro stuff's fun and all, but it's Far From Home delirious climax that sees Spidey and MJ thwipping through the canyons of New York before bumping into ugly ol' J. Jonah JJ Jay Jay likes it's a freakin' comic book or something. Delightful, and also serves as a wonderful image of hope and joy post-Endgame.
What a fuckin’ ride. Here’s to the next... seventy six? Seventy seven?
wait did I leave any out
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kiruuuuu · 5 years
Text
Bandit/Jäger oneshot in which Bandit writes a letter. (Rating T, hurt/comfort?, ~2.2k words) - written for @nutbrain​ because you’re entirely too nice and I will not stand for this in my house (that said, ily 💞💞). This turned out a bit more bleak than intended, so I’d like to apologise, but after you said you also like this ship, it basically wrote itself. (The next one will be pure fluff, promise!!)
.
Dear
Hey
Dude
Marius,
when you read this, I’ll be gone already.
I know it’s fucking cliché and I don’t really wanna drop it all into your lap like this, but you know I’m fucking bad with words. With everything really. Like this, I’m at least forced to put my thoughts together so I’ve got something to write down instead of just hearing all the wrong things come out of my mouth as if it wasn’t in my power to make it stop, like smoke after sucking on a cigarette. I can’t talk to you face to face, so I’m writing you a fucking letter because I guess that’s the kinda thing people used to do. My handwriting is probably bad but at least not as atrocious as your chicken scrawl. I’ll try to make it legible. I do want you to read this.
At some point, I heard someone say that ‘I’ is the word we say the most each day which makes sense to me as I’m the only person who has to put up with me 24/7, but I don’t want to resort to talking about myself for the entirety of this letter, so I’ll start with something you did. The reason why you’re holding this stupid piece of paper in your hands right now. The reason why I won’t be around anymore when you read this.
You probably don’t even remember. It was a week ago, maybe two, and I was having a bad time which usually means I find behaviour justifiable which makes sure everyone else has a bad time too (yes, I’m aware I do that even if it might not seem that way), and you must’ve noticed. We talked about the modifications on Morowa’s shield a few days before that, you knew I wouldn’t have destroyed the prototype if I’d been in my right mind. And still, you came over and struck up a conversation. As if nothing had happened. As if I wasn’t glaring at you.
Do you remember? I can never tell which parts fly right over your head and which ones burrow deep enough so you’ll never forget them. You remember the most random shit, like the things I said to you the day we met which I immediately forgot as soon as they’d left my mouth – though I have to admit it’s not too surprising the cocky asshole remained as a memory for you but the lanky dude who laughed at half the things I said didn’t for me. I can’t recall ever seeing you in the GSG9 which is probably for the best.
You don’t care. You never care whenever I throw a tantrum, you just shrug, the show must go on, and then you’re asking me about those fucking jumper cables or god knows what even if I’m in the middle of strangling someone. I’m not special to you. You brag at the worst moments and I’ve snapped at you for it countless times and felt bad for but the next time, you do it anyway and when I yell, you laugh like I’m telling a joke instead of being stressed or tired of it all or pissed. We fucking fought. We had an actual fist fight which you keep bringing up to others as if it was a funny anecdote to share with your family and not a point in my life where I genuinely wanted to hurt you.
And I think this is the moment where I have to spill the beans. I like
I have
I’m in
Look. I can’t bring myself to write it down because it’s pathetic. The whole fucking thing is and I am and you kinda are too which makes it so much worse. You have a goofy laugh and always embarrass yourself when you’re drunk, you eat at the most inappropriate moments and piss off so many people without realising, you’ve been calling Craig by the wrong name ever since he joined us. His first name is Craig, you idiot, not Jenson. You probably didn’t even think twice about all of us calling him something different because that would require a certain awareness which you just don’t possess.
Yes, I’m calling you blind. I’m not gonna list all the obvious signals but the fact that I kissed you after you ran into crossfire like a fucking lunatic could’ve tipped you off. I’m not bitter. I’m just saying. Or when I dragged you into the chopper in Syria and didn’t let go of your hand. Or all those fucking other times I would’ve bashed anyone else’s head in for less but you’re
Okay, I am bloody bitter. This is one way to tell someone you’re not interested, I suppose, but it’s among the worst ones.
Why I feel like this, I don’t even know. You’re a dumbass and the longer I watch you do something other than being brilliant at your work, the more I can feel my IQ dropping, but there’s something about the way you perceive the world and your own purpose in it
I’m making excuses. You always seemed surprised at how easily I stomach injustice towards me, insults, people screaming in my face, and there’s a simple trick: if you call yourself every name in the world, other people doing it doesn’t faze you anymore. I’ve heard it all and worse, much more personal and detailed in most cases, and if I stumble over one I’ve not heard before, I add it to my repertoire. I’m sorry to put it this crassly, but I often struggle to come up with justifications for my own existence. I crunch the numbers on whether the world wouldn’t be better off without me.
So when you come along and tell me a bunch of things I haven’t heard before, NICE things, it catches my attention, as you can imagine. I remember you being all excited when I put the pieces of clothing I stole from all over the base in Elias’ wardrobe, we watched the aftermath together and you called me brilliant and hilarious and witty. And these I wasn’t familiar with. So I mulled them over, and though I ultimately dismissed them, you sparked a need. What if I was brilliant? What if I was witty? I suddenly needed to prove to both of us that there was something which warranted your words. I wanted to earn them.
Not being able to recall our meeting before Rainbow turned out to be a blessing. Had I known from the start we met before, I probably would’ve tried to one-up myself, be extra unlikeable. But like this? You kept exaggerating all the dumb shit I did, calling it impressive and resourceful, and boasted as if it all had been your idea which annoyed me until I realised I kinda liked being part of this team, if I can even call it that. You were my hype man and for most of the time, I loved it. I was trying to become the person you pretended I was and even though it was frustrating as all hell when I didn’t manage it, I liked myself whenever I did. Genuinely liked myself.
.
Okay, I re-read everything I’ve written so far and it’s going nowhere. You’re probably asking yourself ‘what the fuck does he want from me’ if you’ve even come this far, and besides I ended up talking only about me despite wanting not to. I promise you this has a purpose even if it’s an entirely selfish one, namely just having the peace of mind of you finally knowing. I’d rather leave and never come back than say it to your face, so I’m writing it instead and since it’s you, I guess I have to spell it out regardless of how fucking obvious I’ve been.
I like you. I want to fuck you and kiss you and all that other shit, not necessarily in that order, and I know you want to do none of these things with me because the one time I worked up the courage to touch you outside of drunken groping and I really have never been drunk enough to fall asleep on someone’s shoulder four times in a row all you did was wipe your mouth and ask me what the fuck I was doing and I was so ashamed that I never did it again.
But it’s okay. You don’t have to feel the same way. I realised that last week (or maybe the week before) – you don’t care, and why would you? I’m not particularly likeable. I don’t treat you well and I know you’d argue with me on this but you can’t argue against a letter, so suck it. You claim I give you special treatment when all I try is to keep you at arm’s length. Because I know you’d say no. And that’s alright, only it’s not, it’s not at all alright because I blame myself for your lack of interest and the whole thing is really unhealthy to be honest even if I’m not unfamiliar with it.
It’s changed, though. I keep saying you don’t care and I know you’d contradict me on this too because it’s not really true. You do, in your own way. You laugh when I’m upset because you’re right, I get upset over the stupidest things which don’t really deserve my time at all, so you assume I’m being sarcastic instead of furious and it helps in changing my perspective. You don’t care when I’m in a bad mood and act like everything’s fine because usually, it’s a dumb fucking reason why I’m in a bad mood, so you’re right again, everything is actually fine and I just need someone to show me it’s not as big of a deal as I think it is.
When my dad died, you just sat next to me. You didn’t say anything, you didn’t laugh, you just offered your ear because you somehow must’ve realised it was serious that time. I didn’t take your offer. With this letter, you’re now the only person here I’ve voluntarily told that this is what happened, my dad died and you gave me an opportunity to open up. I didn’t take it. And I still regret not doing so.
You care a whole fucking lot. More than we both were aware, probably, and that’s part of the problem. Part of the reason why I have to leave.
Because the only other person I know who does all of this, who cares the same way you do, is my brother. I haven’t seen him in almost ten years. I never realised how much his mocking helped me stay level-headed and I don’t care that we’ve not seen each other for this long, I don’t care about all the guilt I still
Well, that’s where I am now. I’ll be gone for two weeks, trying to fix the unfixable because I owe him this much. And I owe you. You made me understand that he was always there for me, even if I wasn’t aware, always cared about me just like you do
Give me these two weeks. I’ll get over you it all. Don’t contact me, don’t call, don’t do anything, just keep being my friend you when I’m back, that’s all I ask. I won’t kiss bother you again, I promise, I just need this time to fix some of the mistakes I’ve made in my life and I want to thank you
I’m sorry
Fuck I understand now why people don’t write letters anymore. I guess what I’m trying to say is: I’ll be fine and nothing has to change. We can still go drinking and there are all those stupid films we gotta watch, and you wanted to give me a crash course in quantum physics anyway. We can do all this. I’d like to. But give me some space for now.
Take care, alright? Remember not to ask Monika about that bomb. I’ll see you soon.
Dom
.
P.S.: I bet for a second there you thought I was gonna off myself. You’re not getting rid of me anytime soon, bitch.
~*~
A soft rustling of paper, a sheet being set down on the fluffy cushions of a worn sofa. Fingertips fidget, rub over denim in directionless distress; distracted, disoriented. Thoughts almost tangibly fizz in the air around a brown shock of hair, the skin on the usually smooth forehead furrowed. Memories are being recalled, experiences sorted into boxes different from their previous abode, relived and subsequently reassessed.
A decision is made.
Legs unfold, a body rises with urgency, hurries towards its goal and grasps it firmly, navigates the screen with purpose and freezes with a digit hovering over grass green. A last minute contemplation and a determined nod.
It’s the correct thing to do, the action demanded by an insistently beating heart, the press of skin on glass jubilantly met by an increase in force and speed.
Breathing shallowly, he listens to the dial tone and wonders idly what to say once it disappears. It matters not. He’ll find the words.
88 notes · View notes
fanforthefics · 5 years
Note
because fake/pretend relationships are my fucking jam would you do number 34 for sidgeno ?
a kiss… to pretend
“Tell Sid no,” Flower says as soon as Sid opens the door, before Sid even has a chance to say hi to Geno. 
Geno raises his eyebrows, but, “No,” he tells Sid as he comes into his apartment, handing Sid the six-pack of beer that is his perennial contribution to their monthly potluck dinners.
“Thanks,” Sid says to Geno, “It’s just us this month, all the guys are busy, apparently.” Then he turns back to Flower, because he’s wrong. “I didn’t even say I was going to do anything.” 
“You were on your way there,” Flower retorts. 
“I–” 
“Have you told Sid no too?” Tanger asks, wandering into the hallway in his socks. “It is unanimous, if you did.” 
“It is not–” 
“It is!” Cath calls from the living room. 
“I’m not even proposing anything!” Sid repeats, exasperated. “I was just stating an issue.” 
“Is anyone ever going to catch me up?” Geno demands. In the time they’ve been bickering, he’s taken off his boots and his coat and hung it up, and is now standing looking impatient in his warm-looking cardigan. “What is Sid doing now?” 
“What am I doing now?” Sid asks. “Me? Flower is in the room!” 
“And I’m not doing anything,” Flower tells him, smiling beatifically. “I’m enjoying it, too. I never get to yell at you for being stupid.”
“I’m not–” 
“Someone tell me what’s happening,” Geno demands again. He takes the six-pack back from Sid, and pushes past Sid to head to the kitchen. Sid makes a face at Flower, who makes one back, before he follows Geno into the kitchen. 
Geno’s made himself at home in the kitchen, or as at home as he needs to be to know where the bottle opener is and to steal a taste from the sauce simmering on the stove. Sid smacks his hand away, and takes a beer of his own, ignoring Geno’s puppy dog eyes. 
“Come on, sit down, Flower and Vero brought these prosciutto things, they’re great,” Sid tells him. Geno perks up at that, as always. 
Sid barely manages to sit down in the armchair before Flower starts on him again. 
“You can’t do this, Sid,” he says. Sid looks at Vero. 
“Can you please control your husband?” 
“No,” She replies, patting him on the thigh. “Also, you cannot do this.” 
“If no one tell me what Sid doing, I’m going scream,” Geno says, around a mouthful of prosciutto. 
“I’m not doing anything!” 
“He’s going to hire someone to date him so that the people at work like him,” Tanger inserts, smirking. 
Geno freezes, then turns to Sid. “Sid…” he says on a sigh. 
“That’s not what I said!” Sid glares at Tanger. If this was ten years ago, he definitely would be throwing a pillow–or a cracker–at him. But they aren’t in college anymore, and are apparently adults. Though Sid is fairly sure not everyone in this room–cough Flower cough–remembers that. 
“You were going to get there soon,” Vero tells him. She steals a grape from Flower’s plate, then grins at him when he makes an affronted sound. “We’re just getting you there faster.” 
“I honestly never thought of that, because I’m not insane,” Sid points out. “And my first response isn’t to hire someone to have sex with me.” 
“That is true,” Cath agrees, looking at her husband. “Sid’s pretty. He probably wouldn’t have to pay for it. I’m sure he could convince someone to do it just for that ass.” 
“Hmm,” Tanger hums, “I–” 
“Why you need to pay someone for sex?” Geno interrupts. He sounds stern. Sid has never been cowed by Geno being stern. 
“As I was saying before you all started willfully misinterpreting me,” he starts. Tanger snorts very loudly. “I just think work might be easier if I was in a relationship.” 
“Why?” Geno asks. 
Sid shrugs. “They don’t trust me, yet,” he explains. It’s fair–he’s only been there a few weeks, and he knows it caused a stir, bringing in someone from the outside to be director, and someone as comparatively young as him. Sid’s been facing that sort of distrust his whole life–always too young and too good at his job. They’ll get over that once they get some big wins. 
“They trust once you raise them millions of dollars or do big initiative,” Geno says, as on the same page as Sid as always. “Why you worry?” 
“It’s different, this time.” Sid says. “I think I’m not gay enough. Which is why a relationship would help,” he adds, over French-Canadian laughter. 
“Um, think you plenty gay,” Geno says, not bothering not to look like he’s laughing. “What, they want you wear rainbows? Have sex tape?” 
“Don’t,” Sid warns. It’s not not that trivial–he gets it, a little. And anyway, you don’t laugh at people’s feelings, ever. “Their Board of Directors just brought in some guy they don’t know, and they’ve got a healthy non-profit distrust of their Board anyway. They don’t want some straight cis white guy leading a place where the whole mission is inclusion. It makes sense. 
“But you aren’t a straight cis white guy,” Vero points out. “Unless you went back in the closet.” 
“I didn’t, and I’m not quiet about my orientation, but…” Sid waves at himself. “You know how I look.” 
“Sure do,” Geno agrees, leering cheerfully. Sid smacks his knee, the closest part of him. “Hey! Just saying, you look very nice. You know.” 
Sid knows he blushes, but he ignores it. Geno’s never exactly sparing with his compliments, and he’s made it clear for about ten years that he thinks Sid is hot. It’s not new, or anything. 
“I look like a meathead jock,” Sid corrects. He knows that, too. It’s usually something that works for him–people underestimate him at work and like it on Grindr–but it does make certain spaces less immediately welcoming, how non-flamboyant he is. “Which is not a trope they trust. Understandably. So even though they know I’m gay, they don’t, like, feel it. Which is why,” he goes on, with a meaningful look, “I was saying that if I was in a relationship, it would give me more credit. It was these idiots who jumped from there to me hiring someone.” 
Tanger says something in French, too low and fast for Sid to catch, which means it was definitely an insult, given how everyone but Geno smirks. Sid loves the pot lucks when it’s just them, just what he privately thinks of as the original crew–or the ones that haven’t moved away–but at least when all the younger people are here he has some defense against French speakers. And making fun of him–he’ll take the sometimes uncomfortable hero worship for less mockery. 
At least Geno can’t understand them either, and ignores them as easily as Sid. “You could just find boyfriend.” 
Sid snorts. “In all my free time?” he asks. He leaves unsaid what they all know–he’s not an easy boyfriend. Maybe not personally, though some of his previous boyfriends might disagree, especially when he was younger and didn’t really know how to deal with his obsessiveness, but Sid’s busy and he’s generally going to put work first and he’s not rich or romantic enough to make up for that. His friends, who too often have to put up with his single-minded focus and occasional neglect of them for that, understand. 
And also, he doesn’t want to talk about this, like, at all. Ever since Flower’s and Tanger’s weddings, they’ve been not at all subtle about their matchmaking of Sid, because apparently it doesn’t calculate that marrying their high school or college sweetheart is a different deal than post-college dating. 
“Anyway,” Sid adds. “Geno, you went on a second date yesterday, right? How was that?” 
Geno gives him a horrified, betrayed look. Sid smirks and shrugs. He’s willing to play a little dirty to escape the clutches of matchmakers. 
“You did?” Vero demands, like a shark scenting blood. “What was he like? How was it?” 
“What’s his name? How did you meet him?” Flower adds. Geno holds up his hands, and Sid settles in to watch. 
Later, Sid’s clearing the table when Geno wanders in, holding the last remaining beer bottles. “Thanks,” Sid tells him, as he throws them in recycling. 
“No problem,” Geno says, and leans agains the island to watch as Sid rinses the final plates and puts them in the dishwasher. Sid waits. Geno doesn’t usually stick around for clean-up; if he’s still here he wants to talk something over with Sid. And sometimes he needs a little bit to get there–either because he’s finding the words in English, though his English is much better now than it was at the beginning, and sometimes just because Geno has a lot of emotions and figuring out the words for them sometimes takes him a while. 
Sid finishes loading the dishwasher, then turns to lean against the sink, watching Geno back. Geno looks as good as he always does, all long legs and rangy body and that ineffable charm that makes objectively goofy features attractive. Sid’s never really been clear why he’s still single, honestly; Geno’s a catch. And maybe being a grad student isn’t the world’s most lucrative or interesting job, but he hasn’t really had a boyfriend since graduation, and working at Google is definitely both. 
“You really think it help?” Geno asks, suddenly. Sid blinks. “To have boyfriend. You really think would help you get settle, do better?” 
Sid shrugs. “Yeah? I mean, it’ll happen eventually anyway. It’s just bad timing, because we have a big event coming up and I need all hands on deck, but–”
“So it help,” Geno interrupts him. He’s still watching Sid, something thoughtful and searching in his deepset eyes. 
It’s a look Sid’s familiar with. “Geno, what are you going to do?” 
“Nothing.” 
“Geno–” 
“Don’t worry, Sid.” Sid is definitely going to worry. Geno with that look on his face is the sort of Geno who, back in college, ended up leading the whole team into the penalty box in the one game Sid missed. “I take care.” 
“Do not hire me a hooker.” Geno smiles, pats Sid on the head, then heads to the hallway. 
“Evgeni Malkin!” Sid follows him down the hallway. “Do not get me a hooker. Do not work with Flower and Tanger to get me a hooker.” 
“You think I’m do that?” Geno asks, with his most innocent face. Sid is absolutely not fooled. 
“Yes,” He says. “But don’t. It’s fine. I’ll make it work.” 
“Yes, you always do,” Geno agrees. There’s an odd note in his voice. “See you soon, Sid.” 
“See you.” Sid hovers as he gets his boots on, then his jacket. Then he stands up and tugs Sid in for a quick hug, which Sid returns, used to it by now. 
Then Geno goes. Sid closes the door behind him, goes to the kitchen table, and opens up his computer. He has more work to do before he goes to bed. 
Sid’s office phone rings, and Sid jumps and accidentally types in an extra g–it’s still a different enough tone from what Sid’s used to that he’s surprised by it every time. 
He glances at the caller id–the front desk–and then picks it up. “Sidney Crosby.” 
“Hi, Sidney,” Sydney, the receptionist, says. Her voice is still tightly polite. “There’s an Evgeni Malkin, here to see you?” 
“Geno’s here?” Sid pulls up his calendar, but he doesn’t have anything there; there’s no texts on his personal phone, either. 
“If Geno is a tall Russian man, then yes,” she replies. It’s at least a hint of snark–Sid will take it. 
“Oh. Um. Okay, I’ll be right out,” Sid tells her, then hangs up. If he cranes his neck from here, he can see the front desk through the glass walls of his office–and sure enough, there’s a hint of a brightly patterned jacket that Sid has been subjected to looking at plenty of times. He can also see the other people in the office, most of them on their computers but a few with the sort of tension that means that they’re eavesdropping. 
Sid goes to the front desk. Geno’s leaning over it, chatting with Sydney, who looks, inevitably, charmed. 
But he looks up when he sees Sid, and grins. “Sid!” 
“Hey, G.” Sid pauses. “I didn’t forget something, did I?” 
“No, no. I surprise.” Geno holds up a takeout bag. “Think I bring you lunch.” 
“Oh. Thanks?” That’s not really something they do, and Geno is definitely up to something, but Sid’s also not going to turn down a free lunch. Geno works at Google, he can afford that shit. “Um, my office is over here, come on.” 
“I come. Nice to meet, Sydney,” Geno tells Sydney, who smiles at him. 
“What are you doing here, really?” Sid asks, as he walks Geno back to his office. 
Geno’s innocent look is unconvincing. “Can’t just stop in, be nice?” 
“No.” 
Geno snorts. He’s of course loud; much more of the office is looking at Sid now, over the top of their computers. Sid is pretty sure at least some of the typing is them sending slack messages about him. 
“Fine, maybe I’m have ulterior motive,” he admits, as they get to the door of Sid’s office. He pauses in front of it, and Sid can see him look around the office, clock the people watching. 
Then his hand is on the back of Sid’s head, tilting it up, and Sid’s too surprised to react when Geno leans down to kiss him, chaste but lingering. 
Geno’s smiling when he pulls back. “I’m miss, little bit,” he says, sheepish. Probably because he can see the murder in Sid’s eyes. Or how the sound of typing around them has definitely picked up. 
Sid looks at him another moment–then he pushes the door open. “Come in,” he says. It’s an order, and Geno doesn’t push it. 
Sid shuts the door, then crosses his arms and leans back against his desk. It’s not perfect–the glass is soundproofed to a degree, but it’s not perfect, and everyone can see them anyway, so he can’t yell properly. But at least he can say what he wants. 
“What the hell was that?” he snaps. “G–” 
Geno crosses his arms back. “That is solution,” he retorts. “You need boyfriend. You not want to hire boyfriend, don’t have time to find one. So, I find solution.” 
Sid blinks. Thinks about his words, very carefully. “If this is you asking me out, G, I’m very flattered, but I don’t–” 
“No! No, is not–of course not. Not want to actually date you.” Sid’s probably offended by how fast Geno answered that and how horrified he sounds. “Just, pretend. So you get credibility with co-workers.” 
“And what do you get?” 
Geno shrugs. “Not a big deal for me. You can buy me beer.” 
“I’m not going to ask you to do this,” Sid tells him. Then, “Actually, no, I’m not even considering this. There’s no way it’d work. We’d have to pretend to be dating–I have events and things you’d have to come to.” 
“So I come. Eat fancy food, tell everyone how great foundation is. Can do.” 
“And what if someone ran across you on Tinder?” 
“Then we say I not deactivate by accident, or we open. We figure out.” 
Sid looks at Geno. That answer was fast too–fast enough that Geno had thought about it before. “Geno, why are you doing this?” 
Geno shrugs, and looks down at his hands. “Because–Foundation’s work important. I’m know that–it help me, when I come to America. And I’m so excited when you get this job, because I know you do great things with it, help so many people.” He looks up, and it’s the way he always looks at Sid–like he believes in him. Like there’s no question he wouldn’t believe in him. “I want make sure you can.” 
Sid opens his mouth. Closes it. “G, you don’t have to–” 
“Know I don’t. I want to. Want to help.” Geno glares back at him. It’s still an open question, who between them is more stubborn. “And what you do now? Say random person just kiss you?” 
So that was him cornering Sid. Sid should have known. “I’d say that that’s how you say hello, because you’re insane,” Sid answers. Geno makes a face. “Flower or Tanger didn’t put you up to this?” 
“No, they not know. We not have to tell them.” Geno’s still looking at Sid, steady and sure. “This all me. You want to do?” 
Sid–it’ll help, he justifies. It’ll help. And Geno really won’t have to do much, and he’ll pay him in so much beer, and–”We don’t ever tell Flower,” he says. Geno grins. “And this doesn’t mean you get to do your insane plans whenever you want, you or him.” 
“Okay, Sid.” He pats Sid’s thigh, looking very smug now that he’s gotten his way. “Now, we eat lunch?” 
Sid sighs. This is definitely opening a Pandora’s box. “Yes,” he agrees. He can feel a lot of eyes on him. “Let’s eat lunch.” 
They eat lunch, and then Geno leaves, but not before he kisses Sid again, a little less chaste this time. It’s a good kiss–Sid would expect nothing less, he’s heard the reviews from some of Geno’s exes and hook-ups–and Geno’s eyes gleam when he pulls away, like he got away with something. Sid rolls his eyes, but shoos him out of the office with a, “Go away, I’ve got work to do.” 
“Fine. See you tonight?” he asks. Sid raises his eyebrows–they hadn’t had any plans tonight that he knew of, and generally Thursdays are Geno’s nights where he goes out with his Russian friends and has a little taste of home–but Geno gives him a meaningful look, so he nods anyway. 
“Yeah, tonight. Bye. Babe,” he adds, because he feels like he should. Then he makes a little face, because that sounded wrong. 
Geno is definitely laughing at him, but he leaves with a cheerful wave to Sydney. 
Sid turns to go back into his office–then thinks better of it. If they’re going to do this, they’re going to do it. 
“Hey, Sydney,” he says, wandering over to her desk. “Sorry, I should have said earlier–but if Geno comes by, you can just always send him over unless I’m in a meeting.” 
“Okay, I’ll make a note of it.” Sid can see her physically struggling not to ask for gossip. He waits, and sure enough. “So, that was your…” 
In for a penny. “Boyfriend,” Sid confirms. 
“He’s cute,” she observes. “He was singing your praises over here.”
Sid rolls his eyes. “Yeah, he does that,” he agrees. “Feel free to tell him to shut up, he needs that sometimes.” Sydney smiles at him, and Sid knows that he’s smiling too. “Anyway, thanks.”
“No problem,” She says. Her voice is definitely warmer. 
It annoys Sid to no end, but the thing is–it works. 
It’s still slow, but his co-workers definitely are more comfortable with him, as he peppers conversations with casual references to his boyfriend. It’s not much–Sid’s not a sharer by nature, and any more than that would be out of character–but he drops in stories about Geno, that they’ve seen each other. Little things, like he’s noticed Flower and Tanger do with their wives. 
It’s easy, anyway. He and Geno have known each other for years, even did live together for a brief summer that mostly worked, and they see each other plenty as friends. The stories he has of Geno could be adapted. He has to make up a little, on the edges–how they got together (right after graduation), a few things about like, anniversaries and such–but even that’s easy. Sid knows how Geno acts, in a relationship–the big, ridiculous romantic gestures and the quiet, abiding loyalty. He can imagine how that would fit with him. 
And Geno himself helps too–he’s started stopping by for lunch sometimes, and of course he charms everyone in the office. And, Sid knows, both because he can see it on them and because he knows how this works, they like to see how SId is with Geno. Sid, as Geno has informed him, can tend to be too serious, too intense; apparently having his boyfriend come in and try to bully him around and make Sid roll his eyes a lot humanizes him. 
“It’s okay, they figure out you big dork soon,” Geno tells him over lunch one day, when Sid tells him this. Sid rolls his eyes, but lets Geno pat him on the head and grin at him. Sid finds himself smiling back. It’s nice, spending this much time with Geno again. They haven’t hung out this constantly since college, probably, when they were always in and out of each other’s lives. It’s not that Sid ever forgot how much of a constant Geno was to him, how much he steadies him and pushes him, how funny he is, but having it all the time is…nice. 
And so is work–they’re coming together, Sid can feel it, how they’re uniting. The big fundraiser–a combination of science fair and art show for the kids, and a bit of a gala for the adults–is going to be great. Sid can feel it in his bones, and also in the work that’s happening. This is what he took this job for. 
Geno comes to the gala with Sid. He meets him there, because Flower and Vero had been sniffing around Sid’s apartment before he left–Sid suspects they can smell the fact that he’s in some sort of relationship, even if it’s fake–and they still haven’t told Flower or anyone else of their old college crew what they’re doing. At the potlucks, it’s still just them, and no one’s noticed. Apparently. 
But at the gala, it’s the work-them, the pretend them, so Geno finds Sid about half an hour in. Sid might be annoyed at him being late, but it’s Geno so he expected that, and anyway, Sid’s busy. 
Busy enough that he doesn’t notice Geno’s there until a hand lands on his shoulder, and Sid almost jumps out of his skin. 
“Just me,” Geno announces, laughing openly as the two people Sid was giving instructions to pretend not to laugh. “Not mean to scare.” 
“Yes you did,” Sid retorts, then, “Hi.” 
“Hi.” Geno smiles at him. He looks good–Geno’s always cleaned up well. And his eyes are warm as he clearly eyes Sid up back. “Look nice.” 
“Thanks.” Sid resists the urge, long out-grown, to shove his hands in his pockets. “Um, you too.” 
“I know,” Geno agrees easily, which makes Sid snort and nudge him with his shoulder. “Need help?” 
“Not right now, I think we’ve got it. You can go get a drink, I’ll find you–” 
“Take him with you,” Sam interrupts. “Please. We’ve got this, Sid. Go see your success.” 
“But–” 
“No, you hear,” Geno tells him, the hand that was on his shoulder sliding around his waist–an easy, proprietary motion. “Come on, we go see projects, talk people into giving money.” 
“Yeah, Sid. Go away.” Lisa adds, and Sid makes a face, but it’s good, really. That they’re comfortable enough to joke with him. 
“But text–” 
“We’ll keep you updated,” Sam assures him, and Sid lets Geno lead him away. 
It is fun, to see the kid’s projects. More, it’s rewarding, and Sid clocks the different donors wandering around. “G,” he mutters, “We have to go–” 
“Yes, I see,” Geno agrees. “Come, you smile, I be very charming, we get lots of money.” 
“Hey, I can be charming!” 
“Okay, Sid,” Geno agrees, clearly humoring him. “Let’s go.” 
They go. Geno is, as promised, very charming. Sid does smile, but he also talks plenty, which is, in fact, his job. 
“Is good? You satisfy?” Geno asks, after a few hours. Sid’s dragged him away for a second to breathe. “Get lots of donations.” 
“Yeah,” Sid agrees. He smiles as he looks out at the fundraiser. Then, “Thanks,” he says, not looking at Geno. “For–all this. It was ridiculous and risky, but it helped pull this off.” 
Geno nudges at his shoulder, so Sid has to look up at him. Geno’s beaming down at him, the small fond smile that he usually gives Sid bright on his face. It’s the same look he’s given Sid for years. “You and me, best team,” he says,  Always.” 
“Yeah, I know.” Sid’s known that for years. “But still, thanks.” 
Geno’s smiling at him. Then he’s–then something changes, for a fraction of a second, something Sid can’t quite catch. 
“G?” Sid asks. 
Geno shakes his head. “You know I’m always help, Sid. Whatever you need.” 
Sid does know that. Sid’s always known that. But it’s different here, with Geno so close to him, with him smiling that way that’s not the same. 
Sid’s not stupid. He knows himself, even if everyone always accuses him of being emotionally immature. He knows what the flip in his stomach means, even if he’s never felt it in this context before. With Geno. With Geno, of all people. 
But… “Yeah,” Sid says, and looks away again. He can’t–this is not what this was for. Not what creating a whole relationship between them, of conjuring everything he’d maybe want out of a relationship out of thin air, with Geno there to be funny and ridiculous and attractive to top it off. 
He’ll have to cut off the relationship, maybe. Tell Geno it’s over. If only to nip this thing in the bud, before it becomes more. 
“Okay?” Geno asks, and nudges Sid. Sid looks up at him again–at his smile, at his concern, at everything about him. His stomach twinges again. 
No, Sid’s not going to cut this off, he realizes. It’s stupid and reckless and maybe this is all Geno’s fault, because that’s not him, but–he’s going to take this as long as he can have it. 
“Yeah,” Sid says, smiling helplessly back at Geno. Geno is looking at him like he knows he’s lying. “I’m good.” 
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minhoandthebabes · 6 years
Text
Music Core: Fan Account
Okay so... it’s been like 4 hours after the recording and I’ve been trying to revive myself from the whole experience.. I have a lot to post so I’m putting it under a readmore if you don’t mind ;;
I Want You:
So.. to begin, you already know what the stage looked like, but I wrote this down so I’ll share everything in the order I just wrote it.
Everyone got in!! It was amazing how the squeezed shawols and I actually ended up in the standing section!!! so if you see a girl with a big bow in her hair, that’s me!!
the entire stage was so shinee, most things were shinee colour and there were these holographic bits that just reminded me of what shinee said about being a rainbow ;;
I prayed to Taemin before I got in just to hope I could make it ;;
BEFORE I START, SHINEE WAS IN SUCH A GOOD MOOD like when I saw the show, you could tell they were tired and had been overworking a bit, but they were so energetic and happy to see us!! I was so happy!!
When Minho got on stage first he stretched his mouth super big like in shock to see us. Then they started making these “gwak” sounds? like ducks? not sure what that was about..
During the rehearsal, they were super smiley and Taem pointed at the fans in the audience when he said “I want you” 
At the end, Minho gave this little smile smirk look with his hand on his chin and we all freaked out.
Taekey were messing around before the next recording..
I SWEAR Jinki’s smile could create world peace and heal every disease. I know this has been said before, but I’m SERIOUS, he was super good about following the camera too and giving that smiling face..
When they were waiting ontae were doing high squeaky voices.. like why tho and then they started to do a silly dance.
Minho yelled randomly, when was on stage too.. but it was a mood
Then, Key started to just sing this song in another weird voice, I couldn’t recognize the song because of the silly voice, and Taemin would dance along with him.
At the beginning of the second performance, Taemin looked at us waiting with shifty eyes, like looking back and forth in a goofy way.
Taemin’s spin is something ELSE he’s so good at that move
I just wrote “Min dance” and I honestly have no idea what that was about....
Jinki’s headset broke.. again... so he ripped out the headset during the show and then when him and taem stood on the side he tried to remove it, he was making the cutest faces as he got rid of it and he still sang amazingly after it was gone like why does he even wear them anymore lol
Taemin’s high “yeah” note is really unreal, their lives are INCREDIBLE.
There was so much love for Jinki.. honestly, so so much love. Everyone in there must have been ot5 stans.
Also, so much love for Minho’s singing!!! When the fans heard the replay they would go “awww” every time we heard sweet Minho sing ;; I was so happy to hear their support of his singing.
I’m not sure if this is noticeable in the show, but at times you could see key’s belly and belly button and honestly, it was adorable ;; so soft and squishy I love it.
there was a lot of taekey today...
Minho was waving to fans allll the way in the back as usual.. he loves to spread the love.
Taemin kept trying to figure out how many fans were there and pretended to count with key, and then minho was doing a wave thing with his fingers like he was counting too. During this, Jinki was wiping the sweat from his sideburns and forehead ;; poor baby.. it was pretty hot in there for us too so it must have been worse for them.
Also, people saying Minho’s face is small is no joke.. it seriously is..
(oh also.., onguns are so real.. Jinki could chuck someone to the moon)
Before the last performance, Minho was the first out but then walked back a little bit because the others didn’t come and he looked a little confused lol. then someone started going “ah” “ah” in like a weird voice? and then the others started following in true shinee style.
I watched Kibum this time for the dance, and he is a true dancing king. He hits every position so precisely it’s incredible.
While minkey had their moment with ontae on the side for the last one, after jinki left taem, taemin started doing the dances of the backupdancers.
Then at the end they were bowing and saying good bye sweetly and then Taemin saw confetti on the side of key’s face so he took it off for him ;; so sweet ;; OH THE CONFETTI WAS SHINEE COLOURED ON ONE SIDE AND I GOT ONE .
and lastly, as they were leaving, Jinki said “so amazing!” In like.. a muppet voice.. kinda like taemin’s kermit voice from the liev.
OKAY ON TO WHO WAITS FOR LOVE
this one I have less notes for cause it was way shorter. They only performed three times and right after the show started, so they really pushed us through. As I entered (I was in the back) they were just starting the practice.
At the end of the practice, Taemin fell down on purpose into the camera and later the pd’s slowed it for us and we all screamed. 
Jinki made a mistake so on the replay you could see them all being giggly and Jinki smiling cutely when he was supposed to be “sexy.”
Key is SO SEXY ming too. like they were both feeling it.
This time you could tell they were a bit tired tho.. like Taemin’s voice sounded tired to me.
On the first recording, Jinki came out really slowly and we all screamed, and then key followed just as slowly. because the two were wearing those long cape things, they started messing with them, like taking the long ends of the front and throwing them around. then Kibum danced with it like love like oxygen and we all screamed so key started to act sexy, like running his hand along his arm which made us go crazy... then Kibum took it and made himself look like a bat? or something? I dk it was hilarious tho lol.
The onkey part with the hands? hard to explain.. but that part is so intense between them, like the eyecontact is sooo intense.
The mic was too close to jinki’s and taemin’s mouths so you could hear a lot of breath coming through.. they sounded so tired ;;
Minho is legit nothing but legs like... how tho... he’s just legs and a stomach, I don’t understand, oh, and a tiny head..
for the last performance Minho came out first and was like “alright, lets go!” he looked at fans and smiled, waving at them too.
Taemin finally hit that high note! I think he recovered well..
Jinki was bowing like crazy when they left and they all said bye in korean and english ^^ 
OH SOMETHING MY FRIEND @dubuluvr NOTICED Taemin actually initiated the English a lot this today, usually, it’s started by minho or key.. mostly minho, but yeah!
OKAY FINISHED MY WRIST HURTS AND I REALLY GOTTA SHOWER SO I’M GONNA GO NOW BYE 
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Text
My Very Own Doubtful Guest, Chapter 2
"When they answered the bell on that wild winter night,
There was no one expected - and no one in sight."
***The Doubtful Guest, by Edward Gorey.
Tom's brain went into reboot mode as he stared at the bright little face pressed against the window. The new variable of children added another dimension to his hopes and expectations. He thought about all the possibilities waiting for him through that door. Luckily, flexibility and spontaneity were strengths he loved to exercise.
As the child withdrew from his perch he yelled to someone else, "There's a man at the door! He's got flowers! Do you think they're for me?"
Another face appeared in the window looking exactly like the face that had just left. The definitive clue that this was a new face was that now two identical sets of eyes peered out at him. One. Two. Two perfect little copies of each other left multiple smears on the window from their sticky little hands and their wet little noses.
Once the faces retreated again, scuffling and shuffling sounds came directly from the other side of the door before it finally opened.
Suddenly four little round faces stared at him from the other side of the glass security door. They each had curly blonde hair, super fair skin, and bright blue eyes. The three little boys and one little girl all looked far more curious than scared.
The pair of identical matching faces were the shortest and the boldest. Climbing over each other like puppies, the two littlest ones delivered several questions all at once with each question shouted louder than the last.
"Who are you? Who are the flowers for? Are the flowers for mommy? Are you here to play? What's in the bag? Are you Clark who kills the ants?"
The older two children just stared, waiting for answers. Of course the children weren't the only ones wide-eyed and staring. Tom wasn't expecting to see children at the door. It took a few moments before the shock of seeing them wore off and his brain fully re-engaged back into the here and now.
Why wouldn't she have kids by this point? It was ten years ago that she and 'what's-his-name' tied the knot. Lots of things can happen in ten years. To happen four times was just far more than Tom had expected. Honestly, he hadn't even considered that she would probably have children.
Ten years. A lot can change in ten years. This was the first moment that doubt tried to weasel in. Why hadn't he considered that he might not be welcome? What if she won't forgive him? But all things considered, it was most definitely too late to retreat now.
Shedding his momentary look of surprise and doubt, his face morphed into a bright full smile that spread from ear to ear and overflowed out of his eyes. He'd never seen such beautiful children in his life. He wanted nothing more than to sweep each one up in his arms and listen to every word they had to say. But first, he had to convince them to open the door.
"Well, hello! I'm your Uncle Tommy."
The looks on their faces didn't show any recognition to the name Uncle Tom. Maybe she had never mentioned him to them. He buried these new feelings of disappointment and continued to focus on the children.
"I've brought these flowers for your mum. Do you think she'll like them? I know she likes rainbows so I tried to get flowers in every color."
Squatting down to their level, he held the bouquet close to the door for the kids to see better. All four noses pressed against the glass door as Tom gently dug through the bouquet. Identifying each flower with its corresponding color in the rainbow, he paused at all the right moments. The children couldn't resist helping him recite the colors.
"These roses are...." He lifted two roses out of the bouquet, just barely opened. After taking a deep dramatic sniff, he looked expectantly at the children.
"Red!" the two little boys shouted.
Nodding his head in approval, Tom warmly smiled at each child in turn. He set the roses down on the little table next to the door before continuing.
"What color comes next in the rainbow? Does anyone know?"
All the children were easily old enough to know their rainbow colors but none of them dared to answer yet. Instead they waited with baited breath, watching every move he made as though he was about to do a magic trick. He slowly moved his fingers through the top of the bouquet, lightly fingering the petals, appearing to study them closely. Gently digging his hands into the arrangement again he lifted out a huge Gerber daisy the size of a saucer.
"This daisy is your mum's favorite color. I'm sure you all know what her favorite color is."
Everyone's eyes were locked on the daisy as he spun it between his fingers like a pinwheel. As though they were in a trance, no one said a word until he asked again. "What's your mum's favorite color?"
Suddenly pulling their eyes free from the flower, they all shouted out the answer as loud as they could.
"ORANGE!"
The children burst into giggles when Tom dramatically rolled back off his haunches as though a powerful blast had knocked him down, with his feet now kicking in the air.
"Whoa!!!" he yelled. ""I'll surely never doubt your color knowledge again, my friends."
Staying on his back he pretended to have trouble getting back up. A few deep sounding groans and grunts supported his claims of helplessness. He even made another obviously faux attempt to get up, before sighing loudly in defeat.
"Would any of you Good Samaritans please help this old man get up? I seem to be stuck and I would be so ashamed if your mum found me like this. I feel like a turtle stuck on his back, belly up."
Before he even finished his plea the oldest child unlocked a series of locks and the door flung open. All four kids rushed to help him up. Two children took each of his hands and pulled, while the other two children pushed him up, not so gently from behind his neck and head. With a few more goofy grunts and straightening his shirt and jacket with exaggeration, he stayed sitting on the porch with his long legs stretched out in front of him.
The chaos that four happy kids can create was now evident. Tom just sat and chuckled, feeling his heart swell as they all talked at once, each asking a dozen questions without waiting for answers. They tugged on his sleeves, climbed on his back, and endlessly circled around him, both gingerly and clumsily jumping over his outstretched legs. They showed no sign of slowing down.
He finally spread his arms out wide to get their attention, still holding the bouquet in one hand and the daisy in the other.
"OK. OK. OK. Hold up a second before one of us gets dizzy. And that'll probably be me watching how fast you all are. Instead who wants to hold the orange daisy?"
All four overexcited children lunged to grab the flower, but Tom's long arm kept the flower out of everyone's reach far above his head. This did not detour their attempts to climb up onto his shoulders though. Fortunately no one was wearing shoes, since again they tumbled all over each other like a litter of puppies.
"Hold on! We've got tons of flowers. Will anyone want to help me get them ready for your mum?"
Finally slowing down with eyes wide in anticipation, they all nodded their heads emphatically as their hands shot up into the air volunteering to help.
"I will! I'll help! Mommy will love it! Can I help? I want to help! Can I have a flower, too?"
Carefully looking at each child, he asked, "Who's the oldest?"
The little girl immediately piped up, "I am!"
Tom leaned forward and handed her the orange flower. "Would you hold this for us, Miss.... Miss...?" As they both still held the flower stem, he leaned back with a frown and a gasp. "My dear! I apologize! I don't know your name."
"My name is Melody Baker," the little girl stated with a very proper grown up tone, immediately lighting up with pride.
Letting go of the daisy, Tom took her free hand in his and shook it with grandiose formality. His face and voice adopted the same proper tone as he greeted her in return.
"What a pleasure, Miss Melody Baker. I am Mr. Thomas Hiddleston. But since I've been friends with your mum for over 20 years, you are most welcome to call me Uncle Tommy."
Before he had a chance to turn to the three boys, everyone was startled to attention by a loud curt voice coming from just the inside the door.
"Who the hell are you?"
_______________________
This is also posted on AO3.
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taiblogcomics · 6 years
Text
And a Clown Shall Lead Them
Hey there, chips so spicy your eyes water just from opening the bag. Know what? I'm gonna leave you on that little cliffhanger. Let's do at least an issue or two of Suicide Squad while I wait for my next order to come in~
Here's a cover:
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I think this yet another Harley costume. As a time-honoured tradition, let's critique it! Starting from the bottom... is she wearing a second pair of boots over the first? I've never seen laces that stop, make a bow, and then continue up again. It's certainly quirky, I'll give her that. Fishnets are fine, but it's mysterious that goes over her cutie mark, or whatever that diamond is supposed to be. She also has mysteriously tan skin. Next, those are probably the shortest shorts I've ever seen. If it wasn't for the belt, I'd say there were just underpants. Are the rips in her shirt deliberate or not? If yes, they look terrible; if not, why was it necessary to include? Just to flash a bit of cleavage? Come on now. As usual, her neck decoration (neckoration?) is terrible, but I like it more than the bells or Shakespeare ruff. All I'm saying if you're going to go fashion scarf, go long and dramatic. The Sailor Moon hair is all right, though. Does Michael Jackson know she's borrowing his jacket? And the kicker: she doesn't even wear this outfit in the actual comic, so what was even the point~?
The rest of the cover is even weirder, and thus deserves commenting on. A pastel rainbow of the other Squad members all twisting together? I don't know what it's supposed to be symbolic of, and I probably don't want to~
Anyway, where were we? Oh yeah, Rick Flag is dead or lost in another dimension, and thus the Suicide Squad is out a leader. That's where we pick up, with Katana posing in a skintight suit as a full-page splash. It feels kind of gratuitous, but hey, at least points for the suit not hugging every contour of her chest. Apparently, she likes to strike this pose mid-battle, as she is auditioning for the spot of team leader while also sparring with some robots. Her offer is simple: she's the only one left who's not a criminal. Waller says she sees different: since Katana talks to the ghosts in her sword, she feels at home among the crazies. However, she's not out of the running. Waller will review the other candidates, then get back to her.
So, next candidate: Captain Boomerang? Ha. Do I even need to summarise? Waller refuses to give him a raise and also takes one of his beers. He obliges to open her bottle with a boomerang toss, but denies that he killed Hack. Waller moves on to Harley Quinn, who a couple of guards are bringing food. Waller just stands back and watches as she tosses the meal asides and instead beat the shit out of the guards. Waller notes that since Flag's death, Harley's been giving in more to her darker side. And just to keep this nice and not-at-all subtle, the ghostly face of the Joker appears behind Harley as she says this. It's still a stupid direction to take her character~
Meanwhile, in New York City, Killer Croc and June Moone walk down the street, arm in arm. People panic at seeing them, which is not at all how New Yorkers would react, so they must be passing some tourists. Some asshole keeps following them around yelling "Shoot it! Someone please shoot it!", which is obnoxious. How would you feel if someone kept doing that while you were on a date? They go dancing and skating, take photos, Croc accidentally falls through a bench... It's honestly the best fucking scene in the comic. I like when Croc is depicted as more than just some brute. However, June's pretty bummed, because she can't get anyone to look at her portfolio. No one wants to hire an ex-con, and who's going to believe in someone who can become an evil witch at a moment's notice? Croc says he believes in her. Aww. I ship it~
And with that, June takes the confidence Croc has in her, gets dressed, and takes her portfolio to an office. It's basically her last chance to get someone to look at her art, and Croc even sits in the sewer below the building eating rats to support her. However, he worries that, while he wants June to get what she wants, he fears once she does, she won't want him anymore. Alas, though, her portfolio is rejected, and it's not June Moone who storms out, but the Enchantress. If they don't like June's art, let them suffer the works of Enchantress. And Manhattan is plunged into mid-day darkness...
Waller stops by Hack's room, observing how it's covered in Harley merchandise (who the heck is producing this stuff?) and wondering how anyone sane lead these people. Cosmonut, whose cell is along the way, offers his usual "peanut emoji" response,  and she says thanks for the advice, but no. Everything about Cosmonut is deeply confusing. She then passes Deadshot's cell, who tells her not to even bother asking. He already knows what happens to those who work close with Waller, gesturing with his mechanical arm. Waller tosses him the bottle she picked up from Boomerang, and he shoots it. He offers two legit reasons why she doesn't want him: A, he still plans to kill Katana for taking his arms, and 2, he always goes with the most profitable option. Being leader is not that option. Flag was leader, and now he's dead.
So we cut back to Enchantress unleashing her magics, as it were. She continues ranting until she senses a presence approaching. It's Croc carrying a cowering suit guy, who admits that it was his assistant who rejected her portfolio. He's had his own look and thinks she has promise. This is enough to sate the Enchantress and return her to her form as June Moone. Frankly, I believe between Enchantress and being carried by the collar by Croc, he probably would have admitted he was Mother Theresa. And so June dispels her magics and becomes herself again, clinging to Croc and thanking him for his help. The skies around Manhattan return to normal.
And so, the team gathers once more to hear Waller's final decision. And the new leader of the Suicide Squad will be... [drum roll, opening the envelope] Harley Quinn! No, really. She protests, but both Waller and Deadshot agree that Harley's the one that always makes the team pull together and do the job, even when the threat of the brain bombs was gone. Harley finds this to be so much bullshit that she attacks Waller, but Katana blocks the attack, which Waller counted on. That's why Katana didn't become leader: because she's much better at being subservient than leading. And with that, Waller gives the team their next mission: go assassinate Direktor Karla of the People. Man, are we still on this "the People" storyline~?
Everything else dumb and goofy about this episode is worth putting up with for the three pages or so of Croc and June having a cute domestic relationship. Can that be the whole comic from now on? Please? I know it can’t happen, I’ve read the next 18 or so issues, but seriously, I’d use up a genie wish to retroactively change them.
As for the rest of it, I hate to admit, but the choice of Harley as leader is pretty sound. She did get them to get back together and work as a team. I just don’t think it meshes well with this whole “Harley is regressing into being more like the Joker” plot, which is a stupid idea in the first place. Instead of being more like the Joker, who she hates, wouldn’t a much better story have her try to be more like Rick Flag, the guy she’s broken up about? The actually decent person on the team? It would help explain what pushed her to the heel-face turn she eventually makes in her solo series. That would be actually good storytelling~
Anyways, next issue, they’re gonna go kill Director Karla, I guess. What fun~?
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zuchrinata · 6 years
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Photo-poetry project: Fifty Faces of Florence
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Eight friends of mine and I traveled to Florence, Italy, to engage in a self-designed project called ‘Fifty Faces of Florence’. For one week, we explored numerous crowded streets and unwalked corners of Florence in attempt to gain intimate insights about the city. Through days full of creamy ‘Gelattos’ and conversations with heartwarming humans we encountered, we were able to capture the feel of the city through photographs and poetries. At the end of the project, we compiled all our photographs and poetries to publish it as a book - a physical evidence of our memory made in Florence. 
I honestly left the project week feeling very happy with the poetries I worked on; and I want to share some of that to you here.
The pictures that I took during my stay are uploaded on a separate post: “Visual Journal: Florence, Italy”. I also want to share stories from some people who were kind enough to spend their time to tell me their stories - this is also posted on a separate post: here is for Jacklyn, and here is for Gazi.
I hope you enjoy x.
THE MAN WHO MAKES SOULS AND RAINBOWS
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By the shade of the church, the sun nearly rests And Mother Mary already did; she rests A flower, too, rests between her fingers But a man has not rested, yet; he stood unresting
Between the man’s fingers, rests a brush Snugged, just like it was since eighty-eight and before
He dipped the tip of the brush ‘til it kisses the very forehead of Blue And Reds And Yellows By the brush, the colors touch and kiss and caress They fondled, made love; forgetting their names In two dips and a stir, born the other colors To twelve languages and new music, they danced– my Lord, the street was crowded by people, the walkers and the beggars, each burning their hopes into either fire or smoke And so the man does, too
With the brush, he turned what was black and blank into blue and brown On his canvas, he cried violet and turquoise and cream and amaranth and despair and devotion and modesty and wonder– my God,… this man ain’t you but, with his brush, he makes souls and rainbows ones that you could make yourself
For a living, he’s godly, full of colors to feed a wife and a self, he does all that; one picture for all, but one story for each and it made Mother Mary smile, and the people too For they now have a painting to take home
For a living, he’s godly Gazi from Iran, he was.
- FZ.
EYES AND REASONS
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Walking by the station requires a great sentiment In a sickening rhapsody, I fool by the God’s will I sin I reason I deserve  Tell me you can look at the man’s eye and not see pain Tell me you can look at the kid, – with fancied teeth and a half-forced smile– and not see a worn-out soul Tell me you can look at the woman with the red blouse– twelve phone calls by her left ear– and not see guilt, and regret, and an absence of a second chance; Not see a longing of a gentle touch and a praise, Of a motherly smile and, a voice speaking “I am proud of you” “You are good enough” “It’s okay” 
“I love you”
Can you tell me that you can look at them in the eyes, and not see it?
Because I can’t I can’t look at their eyes and not see it I can’t look at their eyes and not see my eyes in it, and I can’t, too, look at my own pair of eyes and not see theirs beneath them
They, too, sin And they reason 
- FZ.
JACKLYN WITH A ‘K’
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“I am black, and I have an autistic son”, Summer rain dripped through her eyes as wind did through her lips “It’s not easy” Talking about Florence required her a light heart and some pinches of goofiness “But aye, I love this place too much!” Her name was Jacklyn, “not with a ‘Q’ – like Jacque – but with a ‘K’” she said Jacklyn wasn’t only the kind of person who could give you some lights to your cloudy days; she was more like a light herself 
She would talk about how she thought ‘abroad’ meant ‘New York and sky-scrappers’ – just like how she saw on the screens She would talk about how she hated changing diapers – not of her sons – but of some white old man she had no choice to work for She would talk about how her mother decided how many pinches of salt went to the boiling water – and how it drove her insane – but she loved her mother for her mother was the only face she could see had one day she trips by the devil and made twelve trips to the toilet; vomiting She would talk about it all: crying on the church, her son yelling on the bus, ‘Madonna’ And I swear I could listen to this woman for hours 
Jacklyn said her favorite thing about Florence was its people; that people were so open and welcoming and that the taxi driver would let her pay quarter, for food was short on her stomach and blessings was short on her heart and so, under the shade of the church where people said words but never prayed; where strangers looked up but never down God heard her prayer, and looked down for her to give her heart a blessing through the man’s steering wheel I am nothing smaller than certain, that if Florence leaned her hand by the pole where the clothes were hung – being asked the same questions; skipping chatters like school friends, sipping cheap wine for the taste – Florence would say that her favorite thing was Jacklyn, and the summer rain in her eyes Not because Florence could see her reflection and her own beauty on those eyes, But because Florence, could see everything Jacklyn loved about Florence, inside her eyes herself Jacklyn was her love for Florence And Florence was her love for Jacklyn 
At five thirty PM, I walked into Jacklyn’s store where I saw twelve shirts hanging behind the glass window On them, were proudly written “I love Florence” At six thirty PM, I walked out of Jacklyn’s store And I didn’t spend no penny on her shirts Though, with twelve smiles and honest words; And a couple of warm shoes and listening ears; I walked out of the store with a loud print on my gut “I love Florence” All because of Jacklyn
- FZ.
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