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glassesandswords · 3 years

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Of Wings And Wheelchairs

Pairing: Levi Ackerman & Onyankopon, Levi Ackerman/Hange Zoe (mentioned)

Summary: Levi and Onyankopon sit in a coffee shop, waiting for Gabi and Falco to return from their small detour during their vacation together. Levi reminisces about the old Survey Corps veterans and their times together as Onyankopon listens. Soon, the conversation makes its way to a person the two knew very well- Hange.

Ao3 Link

“Let’s wait here.”

Levi and Onyankopon stopped at a coffee shop. With so many people bustling about, it was hard to find a place to relax for a while, especially with all the walking they had done. Well, at least all the walking that Onyankopon, Gabi and Falco had done- as Levi had been pushed around on a wheelchair by Falco the whole time. But the kids had spotted an ice cream vendor and left together to buy something to eat, and the older men decided to get a quick drink before continuing on with their journey.

The coffee shop had outdoor seating shaded by giant blue umbrellas that flared briskly over the round tables. A florist sold bouquets nearby. The scent of roses and lavenders wafted through the air, mingling with that of roast coffee.

“Are you sure letting Gabi and Falco go off on their own in a foreign land a good idea?” Levi asked as Onyankopon looked around for an empty table.

“They are fifteen now. They will be alright. Us, old men, shouldn’t be interfering with a pair of love-birds, so let them enjoy this vacation on their own.”

“You might be right about that.”

Onyankopon decided on an empty table on the opposite end of the florist and parked Levi next to him as he pulled a chair for himself. “Fifteen, huh?” Levi muttered, adjusting his wheelchair close to the table. “If they were in Paradis, they would have graduated from the cadet corps. But these two- they have had their fill of the battlefield way before that, being Marley’s warrior candidates and all.”

“Yes. That’s why they deserve to live like the carefree and free-spirited children they are right now.”

“Not that any child needs a reason to live like that. They all are equally deserving of happiness.”

“Of course,” Onyankopon called the waiter over to them. “A black tea and a black coffee, please.”

Levi noted how Onyankopon kept his favorite drink in mind and ordered it for him by default. Over the past three years, the two men had bonded over their shared losses and he had been a constant companion for Levi after the war. Onyankopon had helped him start a new life and set up his own tea shop after he retired in Marley, taking care of all the paperwork and technical details required.

“I heard you spent your childhood in the underground district within Wall Sina,” Onyankopon said as he watched the waiter leave with their order. “I wasn’t allowed there due to the restrictions on the volunteers, but I heard it was a rough place to live in.”

Levi raised an eyebrow. That piece of information was hardly common knowledge.

“I think I might have an idea of who babbled to you about that,” the face of a certain four-eyed abnormal popped up on Levi’s mind. “Yes. I was raised as a thug in order to survive that hellhole.”

“Did you have anyone close to you at that time? Your parents? Any siblings?”

Usually, Levi would have found it annoying if people dug into his past. But with Onyankopon, he did not really mind. “I was an only child,” he replied, leaning back on his wheelchair, “My mother died when I was young and the closest thing I had to a father was an uncle who abandoned me as soon as he realized that I could take care of myself.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s an old story,” he waved his pity off, “I did have two close friends there. Farlan and Isabel. They were as good as a brother and sister to me.” A fond remembrance flitted over his face, as if he could see them in his mind’s eye as he spoke. “The three of us thought life above the ground, in a land touched by the sun would be better. Turns out it is all the same.”

It wasn’t hard for Onyankopon to make out that Farlan and Isabel were probably no more from how Levi’s voice dipped. He changed the topic to something lighter.

“But you finally retired from all your duties and responsibilities. How does it feel to go on vacations to foreign countries?”

“I’m surprised you are dragging me along. Not like I could be of any service anyway, after being permanently bound to this wheelchair,” Levi tapped on the metal armrest.

“You are too humble, Levi,” Onyankopon shook his head, “I’ve seen you offering guidance to Armin and the others whenever they need it.”

“I help them as much as I can, but in the end, it is nothing more than an old man’s advice.” Levi sighed, remembering a certain someone’s soliloquy in a forest. “Times have changed and perspectives are different. After the rumbling ended, Armin offered me retirement and I took it. But even if I were in top shape, I honestly don’t think I would want to do anything with the Alliance anymore.”

Onyankopon watched Levi as he gazed at the busy road. The man looked broken, like he had lost way too much in life. He reminded him of some of the volunteers who had seen their families killed and hometowns destroyed in front of their own eyes. For previously being known as ‘Humanity’s strongest soldier’, Onyankopon had not seen Levi in action a lot. But the way he held himself together during that day- exactly three years ago, after Odiha- was a testament to his immense internal strength. The man in front of him was a fighter, but the fight had taken its toll on him.

The waiter arrived with steaming drinks and served it on the table.

“How do you drink that bitter bean-juice?” Levi asked as Onyankopon took a careful sip, trying not to burn his tongue in the scalding liquid.

“Six years and you still haven’t warmed up to coffee, have you?”

“I prefer tea, usually that of my own shop.” He sipped his tea, holding it by the rim with his left hand. “But I have to admit, the aroma of coffee is quite enticing.” His voice went back to its hazy tone. “Mike would have liked it. That guy had a sharp nose for things like these.”

Though Onyankopon did not know the details, he knew Mike was probably one of Levi’s previous comrades.

Levi had a habit of talking about his fallen comrades now and then. He did not seem to care if the other person knew them personally or not. Onyankopon assumed that it was to remember and acknowledge their existence and stories, being the last living veteran from his original group.

He heard about the battle of Shiganshina that resulted in the complete decimation of the earlier Survey Corps and wondered if Mike was one of the people who died there. Or maybe he had been one of the many unfortunate victims who were killed by the hands of the pure titans long before. Onyankopon felt a small stab of guilt for following Zeke, who had caused nothing but pain for Levi and the rest of the Survey Corps, but he had his own circumstances. Choosing sides had blinded them from appealing to their common humanity, until Yelena had revealed to him the plan to offer assistance to Paradis before their first scouting expedition six years ago. He had almost convinced himself that the Paradis military would crush them with their titan power before they could put forth that proposal, but then, a certain Survey Corps Commander gave them the warmest welcome they could have received in the island of ‘devils’.

“Brings back memories,” he hummed over his coffee, “Remember, the first time we chatted was over a cup of tea in that tent?”

“Ah yes,” Levi nodded grimly, “Another one of that person’s stupidly optimistic ideas. It was a surprise that you volunteers actually agreed to it.”

There was a silence as Onyankopon knew exactly who he was referring to.

Levi sipped his tea. “Honestly, they’d come up with the most reckless ideas, that Four-eyes.”

Onyankopon gave a small, sad smile. It seemed safe to talk about them. “I have to admit,” he said slowly, “I was shocked when they pointed the barrel of that gun over their one good eye, even if it was unloaded.”

“You don’t know half the trouble Hange caused back in the Survey Corps,” Levi shook his head disapprovingly. “Always blabbing about their latest hypotheses. Putting my entire squad in danger for another titan capture mission. They’d have had their head bitten off by a titan long ago if it wasn’t for their trusty assistant, Moblit. Hell, they went days without taking a damned bath just because something more interesting caught their attention. Sometimes, when I couldn’t bear the stink, I had to knock them out and clean them myself.”

Onyankopon chuckled at his ramble. He had observed Levi and Hange’s inseparable relationship from his time at Paradis. Maybe it was because they were the last ones to survive from their generation, or maybe it extended a little deeper than that. Onyankopon was not completely sure. He gazed at the long scar across Levi’s face, crossing through his one blind eye. If Hange were there, the two of them would have made quite the one-eyed pair.

But Hange wasn’t there as they had sacrificed themself so that he and Levi could sit in peace under a blue umbrella, drinking hot beverages on a sunny day without worrying about anything else.

Levi was still rambling on, “...all those stupid naming ceremonies for the captured titans. At least three Garrison guards used to throw up after each of their experiments. The tantrums they’d throw in Erwin’s office whenever he denied their requests. That Four-eyes once talked to me about titans and their planned experiments for two days straight after we first found out about Eren’s abilities. Can you believe it? Two days!”

There was a bitter aftertaste in Levi’s mouth and he knew it had nothing to do with the tea. A memory of Hange floated in his mind, of them carefully dabbing medicated cotton over Eren’s face after he had kicked the hell out of him in the courtroom all those years ago. He remembered Hange chiding him for having gone too far and declaring that they’d never kill Eren.

His stomach twisted at the irony of how everything played out in the end.

Onyankopon’s voice stirred him out of his thoughts. “It must have been hard for them to pursue their scientific research after they became the commander.”

“It did take a huge toll on them,” Levi agreed, “Erwin’s shoes would have been hard for anyone to fill. But he himself chose them as his successor and they did their job well, even if all odds were against them.” He gave a short sigh through his nose. “But over the years, they changed too much.”

Levi had noticed all the times when Hange had faked a smile to cover up their exhaustion. They tried to maintain their cheerful façade through all the uncertainty to keep their subordinates from becoming concerned about their mental well-being, but from his time with the past two commanders, Levi knew the bone-crushing pressure they were under.

He had spotted the missing tea from his shelf during all those late nights when Hange had fallen asleep on their desk after pulling multiple all-nighters. Although they weren’t new to burning the midnight oil, the commander’s work was grueling. Adding to that, the knowledge and responsibility of dealing with an entire world full of potential enemies weighed them down incredibly. Only he knew how tired and defeated Erwin had looked during his last moments with him. In a way, the role demanded much more from Hange than it did from Erwin himself.

“You mean they were more excitable before?” Onyankopon asked, “I really did not think they could look more starry-eyed than while they were being introduced to all the new technology from Marley.” He chuckled, “The way they whooped after the success of the new improved 3DMG test session was unforgettable.”

Levi set down his empty cup. “Hange was always a vocal advocate for technological advancement. Their inventions helped to get rid of all the pure titans in the island without much loss of human life. When they were given the hope that the rest of the world was not as cruel as we thought it was- but a place where they could learn and discover- that was when I saw them truly happy for the last time. They hoped to make peace when we left off for our first Marley visit. But we both know how that ended.”

Ah, yes that Marley trip, Onyankopon thought as a tense silence settled between them, The time when everything spiraled out of control. To ease the heavy pauses, he decided to bring up some good memories from back then.

“Remember the time when Hange bought that lollipop from that clown just so that he’d stop stalking you? And the time when they tried to feed carrots to a car?”

Thankfully, it seemed to work as Levi snorted. “Shitty-Glasses was supposed to be the smartest of us all,” he said, “Yet, that was still better than the way they squealed after the camera flash the first time we took a picture in Azumabito's place. Now that was just plain embarrassing.”

Onyankopon smiled. When Levi's squad was out drinking, he had insisted Levi and Hange to take a photograph with himself and the Azumabitos as a keepsake memory of their first official trip outside Paradis. Hopes were ripe that night, with the peace conference scheduled for the next day. To keep their optimism up, they had a small dance session in which Hange had dragged Levi with them and had successfully managed two rounds around the ballroom before Levi remarked that it was ridiculous and sulked in a corner for the rest of the night with a wine glass on hand. After which Hange teased him and invited Onyankopon to give them company instead.

When the camera was ready, they were all suited up- with hats placed on their heads despite the fact that it was evening- just for the sake of the photograph session. Onyankopon knew that the Paradisians had never taken a picture before, so his eyes were on Levi and Hange instead of the camera.

Their reactions did not disappoint.

Hange squealed as the flash lit up the room and Levi flinched, grimacing at its sudden brightness. The photograph was quite comical when it was developed: Hange with their mouth slightly open, Levi with his eyes half closed and Onyankopon’s lips in an amused half-smile as he gazed at them.

“To be honest, you looked quite shaken at the flash yourself,” he pointed out to Levi.

“Yes, but I did not wake up everyone in a fifty mile radius within the building.”

“It didn’t seem to wake the kids up, though.”

“What do you expect? Not even Hange can wake up a bunch of hungover brats who had drank all night and ended up passed out on each other.”

“The three of us had to carry them back, didn’t we?”

“Only for Sasha to puke all over the new suit I wore for the photoshoot.”

Onyankopon laughed at that memory. The waiter came over with the bill and he paid it before Levi could reach for his own wallet.

“I told you before,” he said to Levi as he handed over the money, “This vacation is entirely on me.”

“Thanks,” Levi kept his wallet back inside his pocket, knowing that arguing about it would not change Onyankopon’s mind.

They sat in silence for a while, gazing at the people walking around, exploring the shops. Levi got a few quick stares now and then because of his heavily scarred face, but he did not care. He was used to people staring at him; the annoying looks of envy and awe when he was considered as humanity’s strongest soldier, glares of anger from the military higher-ups after he had brought back Armin instead of Erwin during the battle of Shiganshina, and gazes of pity after he had been severely injured due to the thunder spear, thanks to that shitty monkey.

“I wonder what happened to that photograph,” he murmured, his mind wandering back to that day in Marley.

“It was left in Paradis,” Onyankopon replied, “The militants probably disposed of it along with the rest of our belongings after we were declared traitors. It’s been three years after all.”

Levi’s heart sank. That was the last piece of Hange he had left, apart from the scars they had stitched across his face. If everything was disposed of, that would mean that the badges he had collected from the uniforms of his former comrades, his letters, Hange’s research notes, Moblit’s sketches from the night they visited a bar after work, all of their personal belongings- everything had been burnt or destroyed. Apart from Erwin’s grave, there was nothing left for him back in Paradis- the place the Survey Corps dedicated their lives and hearts for all those years.

He masked his bitterness, “It was just a piece of paper anyway.”

Onyankopon did not say anything. The cost of freedom had been incredibly heavy for both of them.

“It’s been three years, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Levi remembered that moment when the spirits of his comrades appeared in front of him as he sat battered and broken. The old Survey Corps, with whom he had spent so many years fighting, resting, experimenting and pushing through every loss, every death and every failure together. He had finally finished their job. He had taken all of their dedicated hearts with him and won for them.

His final salute both crushed his soul and set him free.

A part of him wanted to depart with them. His duty was done, Zeke was killed, the rumbling was stopped and the world was finally free of titans. What use would he be to anyone anymore?

But he knew that the others would want him to live the life that they couldn’t. To explore the world and all it had to offer. To make the dream of world-peace come true.

So, he decided that he would go on, and when his time finally comes, he would stand tall among his noble comrades and tell them stories of the world they never got to see.

Levi hesitated for a moment before turning to Onyankopon.

“Do you think they’re still watching over us?”

Onyankopon didn’t miss a beat.

“I’m sure they are.”

Gabi and Falco reappeared from the crowd, with half-eaten ice cream cones in their hands. The brats had grown so much since the first time he had seen them, all beaten up and bruised on that zeppelin three years ago. Now they looked happy and content, their eyes shining with hope, optimism and love.

Hange’s words from all those years ago played in his mind.

I want everyone to feel safe again soon. I want this to be a world where people can live without fighting each other.

There was still a long way to go for that, but with the threat of the titans gone, they only had humans to negotiate with. Though that probably did not make it any easier, peace was still an option. He’d leave that to Armin and Historia.

Erwin and Hange would have loved it here. All the new places and technology, exotic food, new discoveries; it would have blown their minds. Sometimes, he wondered what would have happened if that bastard Floch did not show up to shoot holes in that fuel tank. Hange would have been alive, they would have boarded the plane together, they could have seen the flying titan and the previous titan shifters. It might have probably returned them to their normal, curious self again.

They could have survived together.

What would Hange have done now that the titans, their life’s work, were gone forever? The two of them had never really discussed such situations, for they never imagined such a day would actually come to be. For them, a world without the threat of titans was a distant fantasy. But if Hange were alive, they’d have probably headed the peace talks. They were never the one to stay out of the action anyway.

“Sorry, we were a little late,” Falco said as he approached them, “Shall we go?”

“Sure, no problem.”

Falco popped the rest of the ice cream in his mouth before silently pulling the wheelchair by its handle without being prompted to. He was a sweet kid. Erwin, Hange and the rest of his old squad- Petra, Oulo, Eld, Gunther- would have liked him.

Levi picked up a newspaper from a vendor, to see if there were any mentions of the peace committee who had set sail for Paradis earlier that day. As they made their way through the street, he winced as the wheel stumbled over a small pothole.

“I’m so sorry,” Falco exclaimed.

“No, that’s fine,” he rubbed his back. “Times like these are when I really miss Four-eyes.”

Onyankopon laughed, “They’d have come up with a crazy convenient wheelchair, custom-made for you.”

“Knowing them, they would have probably attached an engine and the 3DMG trigger-anchor system complete with a safety belt into the wheelchair,” he shook his head. “Then again, I think they might have also pushed me down a slope as a test run, so maybe I’m safer this way.”

A distant hum of an engine made all of them look above.

A plane, similar to the one they had taken off from in Odiha, flew past the sky, its shadow falling on them as it streaked by.

For the kids, it was just another ordinary plane they stared fascinated at. But for him, something about it felt reassuring.

It was almost as if…

Levi glanced at Onyankopon, who gave him a knowing look.

So, they were watching us after all.

#levihan #levi ackerman #hange zoë #onyankopon #snk 139 #snk 132 #onyankopon and levi drink coffee and tea together in a vacation #featuring plane-san #retired levi #the sc vets were the best characters tbh #i miss them #fluff #snk fanfiction

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magdaclaire · 5 years

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hiiii mer, can u pls write me a mob winteriron au with mob boss Bucky and daycare center worker tony? preferably with secret identity porn and some angst

It does not have identity porn, but it does have angst!

Hope you enjoy it under the cut, Joanis!

Ao3 Link

Tony clenches his jaw, leaning against the wall stubbornly and jutting his chin up at anyone who makes eye contact, though few are brave enough to even try. Even if people don’t know who he’s attached to, they do know the kid that’s huddled behind his thigh, sucking on her thumb with a cast on her arm. Tony only has to make the right expression to the right person for someone to run off and get who he’s looking for, and that’s a kind of power he never expected to have. He doesn’t even particularly want it, but it’s fine. Everything is fucking fine, after all.

Except the kid. She’s not fine, and if he doesn’t get his ass in front of Tony, begging for her forgiveness on his knees right the fuck now, Tony is going to kill James Buchanan Barnes. A few people offer him a cigarette when he has to wait more than a minute for Steve to run and go get James, but Tony declines. He doesn’t smoke, least of all in front of kids, and maybe Tony will read James that riot act after he’s done reading this one, which he just might read in front of all of his little friends.

Some might say that calling the entire mob “James’s little friends” wasn’t very good for Tony’s self preservation, but see if he gives a flying fuck. James likes him too much to have him killed, and everyone else is too afraid to even piss Tony off, let alone the man himself.

He feels like a fucking mob wife in the ‘30s and nothing pisses him off quite like that.

“Tony! Baby, what are you doin’ here? Becca? What happened to your arm, sweetheart? Are you okay?” James asks, hitting his knees in front of the pair just as he fucking should. Becca tells him the story of her sprained wrist when she lost her balance on the monkey bars, how an attendant had attempted to catch her but she had fallen too fast, how Tony had tried to call him three times before the ambulance even got there, but he never answered. James looks up at Tony with wide eyes and Tony gives him a flat look, the clench of his jaw accented by raised eyebrows. He revels in how James winces.

“Princess, how about we get you layin’ down for a nap at Aunt Peggy’s? I’ll read you a sleepy story after me and Tony have a bit of a talk,” James promises her, grinning awkwardly, but Tony shakes his head, calling Steve over with just a finger.

“How about Uncle Steve reads you a story? Me and Bucky need to talk for a bit longer than you might be able to stay awake, sugar plum, and I don’t want you to miss your whole story,” Tony advises, to which Becca nods.

“Yeah, okay. Uncle Steve, can you pick me up? My feet hurt,” Becca requests, making the gesture for up to her older brother’s best friend. Steve picks her up with a nod and doesn’t even get a confirmation from James before walking her up the stairs, out of the basement and presumably over to the house he shares with his fiance, a fierce brunette woman who holds an even higher rank than Steve himself. Tony turns his sharp eyes on James once he sees her go in the building, drumming his fingertips on his opposite bicep. James grimaces, knowing where things are going.

“Guys? Clear out. Me and Tony need the floor,” James says, to which grumbling begins as various mobsters put down their cards. Dum Dum brushes his knuckles across Tony’s shoulder as he goes out, obviously sorry for something that he couldn’t have controlled, but Tony brushes him off. He doesn’t need apologies from anyone but James, and James hasn’t even begun saying his piece. At this rate, he may never finish. Dernier is the last one to leave, bowing his head at Tony.

“Go soft on ze boss, eh? He has been doing better lately,” Dernier says, to which Tony gives a straight jawed nod. He’s not going to go easy on James, not even close, but it’s fun to think that someone wants him to. Tony sits in a seat across the table from James, one of the most direct ways to call an opponent in James’s world, but he’s okay with that. He’s not exactly looking to reassure James at the moment.

“Tones, I know you’re mad, doll -” James starts, but he knows to stop when Tony tilts his head, already madder than a fucking snake. Anything that starts with I know you’re mad is only gonna make things worse, and James knows it.

“You wanna tell me why you don’t know how to answer a fuckin’ phone, James? You been down here all afternoon? Actually, don’t fucking answer that second one, asshat. I don’t care if you’ve been down here for seventy fucking years, you still get service in this hole. So, back to the first question. How, in all of your infinite knowledge and wisdom, in the fuck did you forget how to answer a phone?” Tony asks, voice sharp as he leans his chin on his hand, carefully keeping his expression cool.

“We were…” James trails off, rubbing the back of his neck, “We were celebratin’ somethin’. Started playin’ about four hours ago. She don’ even get outta school for another hour, Tony, I - I didn’t even think about it, darlin, and I’m sorry.” He sounds almost sincere enough for Tony to want to drop it, but he remembers the fear he’s been holding in the bottom of his stomach for almost three hours, for all of the time that James hadn’t answered the phone, for all of the time that he hadn’t known where James was or what he was doing. He only knew where James was, that James was even okay because Steve answered a text.

“Honey, did you forget what you do for a living? Did you honestly forget?” Tony asks, to which James tilts his head. “You didn’t answer the phone. You didn’t answer a call, didn’t answer texts, satellite GPS on your phone doesn’t work well down here. James, I thought you were fucking dead. You don’t answer the phone, I have to assume the worst don’t I? I take care of Becca during the day. I’m the one who reminds her that it’s okay to have friends at the daycare, that she’s okay, that she’s safe. How am I supposed to tell her that she’s safe when you don’t even answer the phone when she needs you? What if it had been worse?”

He doesn’t mean to go on this rant, on the guilt tripping, awful thing that makes his throat hurt with the fact that he’s about to cry, but it’s easier. He can’t admit that he was terrified that he was about to lose the man he loves before he even got to tell him. He can’t admit to James that he’s caught feelings that feel much more permanent than their relationship. He isn’t proud of how James seems to choke on this argument, how his eyes cloud up with the first bit of tears, but it’s easier.

“Tony,” James says, choking on it, before he closes his eyes, steeling himself to continue. “I’m sorry that I made you deal with that. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there. It will never, never happen again, I promise you that. You’ll never have to deal with us again.” There’s a note of finality there that freezes even the breath in Tony’s lungs, and he feels like he’s dying.

“James, what are you saying?” he asks, freezing in his posture as well as he sits up and stays in some sort of stasis, completely caught off guard. He knows that James has a guilt complex, knows that he can take things to heart better than anyone else, but he doesn’t… he doesn’t know what James is saying.

“The daycare experiment was a bad idea. I’ll get Peggy’s friend to start teachin’ her again, and we’ll keep her within the guard. I’m sorry that I disappointed you, and I’m sorry that I wasn’t better to both you and Becca in this situation,” James says. It sounds just like one of the cuts in one of Tony’s father’s business meetings, just like the way that things end, and Tony can’t have the end, not yet. He stands from his seat and sits down on the table in front of James, just like he always does, just where he belongs. He usually feels safer here, but there is no safety in the way that James does not make eye contact with him, staring straight ahead, nor the way that James keeps his hands firmly on the arms of his chair.

“I don’t want either of you to go. I can’t - I can’t lose her,” Tony says instead of admitting that he can’t lose James, because that’s so much and so new and Tony can’t. He gets flashes of his father in his head, quiet reminders that no one will ever want him when he’s not inventing, no one will ever want him now that he’s a burnout, no one will ever want him now that he’s soft, now that he’s simple. Tony can’t lose either of them.

“Visits can be arranged if you want. I’ll have Steve organise them,” James offers, kinder than he needs to be, but Tony makes a noise that sounds like a wound has been ripped through him. James finally looks at him at about the same time that Tony is sliding into his lap, clinging onto the other man desperately. As confused as he obviously is (stone body structure, just the side of his expression out of the corner of Tony’s eye), he still puts his hands on Tony’s back, holding him with such care that it’s painful.

“I can’t lose you either, dipshit. Half the reason why I’m fucking mad and he misses it,” Tony mutters against the mobster’s throat, but he knows that James hears it for the way that arms tighten around his waist.

“I love you,” James says, just as quiet as Tony’s muttering, but Tony hears it anyway. He feels like he’s about to cry.

“I love you too,” he admits, and it doesn’t feel as much like a weakness as it did just before.

#winteriron #bucky barnes #tony stark #steve rogers #becca barnes #mine #joanis #kimannhart

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londontheatre · 6 years

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Kind of like a “Sex Encounters of the Closet Kind” exploration of straight-on-queer relationships, My Gay Best Friend takes no prisoners when it comes to letting it all hang out. Written and performed by Louise Jameson and Nigel Fairs we have a raunchy, randy, ribald and exceptionally rude drama that makes us squirm and chortle in equal measure.

Jameson plays Rachel (AKA Raquel Rooster) a middle-aged, briefly-married Boots beauty-counter assistant for whom life has pretty much passed her by without so much as a by-your-leave or thanks-for-coming. A chance encounter, via an accidental-nail- polish incident, with cleaner Gavin (AKA Wanker for Wolverhampton) leads to an unlikely and affectionate relationship between these two lost souls swimming aimlessly around an empty fish-bowl.

We start at the end – Gavin has persuaded Rachel to take part in a karaoke event and when he doesn’t turn up to lend moral support she locks herself in the ladies, desperately trying to reach him on the ’phone. Gavin, meantime, having forgotten about the event, is ensconced in the bathroom of his lesbian neighbour, George, and is forlornly engaged in the process that will provide George and her partner the necessary requisites to produce her own baby. Gavin’s mobile is off: Rachel is going apeshit.

Through a series of monologues, some hilarious, some movingly touching, we learn about the pretty mundane existences of these two loners and they also re-enact the greatest hits of their unusual relationship. It’s both funny and sad and the parallel narratives of their disparate lives are cleverly woven together and skilfully performed.

As Rachel, Jameson grabs you by the crotch and embarks on a full-frontal assault on any snowflake tendencies that might be lurking in your emotional make-up. She’s witty and crude, savage and crass, and likably hateful as she angrily deconstructs the men in her life – father, “uncle”, husband – and the scars they have left on her permanently bruised psyche. She ain’t no wallflower but you can’t help feeling that, behind the bravado, under the fragile skin of feminine-machismo, she’d dearly love to be. Gay Gavin, who becomes her best friend, offers her a lifeline, but it’s a tentative, badly-fraying lifeline at best.

Jameson’s is an extraordinarily edgy and visceral performance by an actor at the top of her game, someone who is intent on pushing the barriers to uncover the depths of character that lurk beneath the mask of facial expressions.

For this to come off in all its gory glory Jameson needs a straight man: in this case it’s a gay straight man, Gavin, played with affecting warmth and self-deprecating humour by Fairs. Gavin is a professional apologist – he was late in coming to terms with his sexuality, he lost his partner, he’s not a very good cleaner, for a queer guy he’s got no fashion sense, and he’s very sorry but, basically, porn does nothing for him. He does, though, have a “listening face” and is able to provide unexpected succour for a washed-up, ranty Boots assistant – for a while, anyway. Until, that is – and he’s very sorry about this – he meets lesbian George and her glamorous film-star partner – and Rachel feels she’s lost him – which makes the panic in the ladies before her karaoke debut even more real.

Jameson and Fairs together – who have worked with each other before – are a wonder to behold – a truly evocative tour de force brought to resonant life in the intimate confines of the Hope Theatre stage. Director Veronica Roberts is canny enough to let these two have their head whilst gently reining them in when they start to get too OTT. The direction is thus subtle but positive letting the pair’s intuitive magic speak for itself whilst retaining the necessary grip on the meandering narrative. It works well and is first class entertainment.

Artistic Director, Matthew Parker, who won Best Artistic Director at the Off West End Awards last year, curates a wonderful collection of theatrical artefacts at the Hope and his programming is always high-quality and entertaining. The theatre has a delightful welcoming atmosphere and it’s a lovely intimate space: but you’re not allowed to get too comfortable because the drama is always edgy and vibrant – as demonstrated by My Gay Best Friend. Do get along there if you haven’t experienced it.

Review by Peter Yates

Written and performed by Louise Jameson (Eastenders, Tenko, Dr Who, Bergerac) and Nigel Fairs, MY GAY BEST FRIEND is a heady mixture of high camp, melancholy reflection on friendships and the childhood dramas that haunt us all. Racquell is a 50something would-be diva who’s locked herself in the ladies, furious because her gay best friend Gavin isn’t there to support her; he’s sitting in a walk-in wardrobe about to become a father with a lesbian couple and a turkey baster!

Over 18s only. Due to pub licensing laws no one under the age of 18 is permitted into the building after 7pm.

my gay best friend written & performed by LOUISE JAMESON & NIGEL FAIRS 9 – 27 Jan 7.45pm £15/12 Tues to Sat onlyhttp://www.thehopetheatre.com/

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