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#i know it's not 1930s anymore but i see no need to play down class tensions
janeaustenlover · 1 year
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There’s a little flame between us. It’s always burning. And I’ve come to believe that tending a fire like that is purpose enough for any life.
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ladyambrosia03 · 8 months
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Too Save A King…
Summary: After another fight with your parents you had finally had enough and storm to your room and free drifting to sleep you have a weird dream that you must return 1956 and save the one and only Elvis Presley from his own deadly fate, or was it a dream at all?
A/n: I’m so sorry for being away for like an enite year but I promise I’ll try to write more but this idea has been in my mind for awhile and this is just a pilot, if you like this I will write more and most likely make this a series
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You were a normal girl doing your own thing, a middle class family, lots of friends at school, and a boy you were interested in. But love was complicated for you, your family always wanted what was best for you and that included the men you dated, and tonight was the night you had another dinner with your family and one of there family friends who had a wealthy rich son who was an asshole, but according to your family, he was such a gentlemen, but to you he was no different then the others and like all the other dinners, you had excused yourself from the dinner table and went to your bedroom. When you shut the door you threw yourself in the bed and groaned in annoyance, oh how you wished men today were like then men in the past, showing respect, giving you there coats, bringing flowers! Not a single man your parents tried to match you with brought you flowers let alone ask you what your favorite flower is, no man tried to get to know you and that pissed you off more, you wish you were born in the 1930’s because there’s one man you’d like to meet, Elvis Presley, The King Of Rock and Roll,. When you were younger, your parents left you alone with your grandparents a lot and they would always play Elvis Presleys music and you would giggle every time. You don’t get to see your grandparents much anymore…so every time you miss them or you just need to calm down, you’d grab your headphones and play your favorite Elvis songs and that’s how you made it through your life and would until you’d get enough money to move out.
“HE’S A NICE WEALTHY YOUNG MAN!” Your Father yelled, yet again another fight between you and your parents had broken out, your family are middle class people and keep trying to set you up with a higher class man only for money, but you didn’t want that, you wanted to marry someone for love but your parents had other plans.
“I don’t give a damn about how wealthy he is! He’s a bastard of a man who only thinks with his dick! He doesn’t care about me so why should I care about that scum?! You shot back, the man your talking about is Cain Axton Son of the high class Axton family, his Mother was a wonderful woman but her husband and son only wants one thing.
“(Y/n) enough! It’s about time you stop being so selfish and do what’s right for the family!” Your mother said in a stern tone. “I’m selfish?! IM SELFISH?!, your the ones trying to hook your daughter up with a Rich Asshole who doesn’t value women! So if anything your being selfish! Your the worst kind of parents trying to force your daughter to be with someone awful!” You yelled, and then it happened, the action that finally made you snap, your Father had slapped you right across the face, leaving a stinging sensation on your left cheek. You stood there in shock looking down at your feet as your mother started screaming at your Father for even she knew that was to far. You felt the tears start to gather in your eyes, sure you and your parents would fight but this….this has never happened, you could hear your parents arguing but it was muffled as thousands of thoughts ran through your head, you looked up to see your mother still yelling at your father, he then raised his hand about to slap your mother….But instead you grab your fathers arm pulling it back to protect your mom, he looked at you and he shoved you to the ground glaring at you and turning to your mom before storming out of the kitchen, your mother looked at you concerned basically asking if you were okay, you nodded and so she got up running after your father to calm him down not even thinking twice to check on you properly,so you got up and ran upstairs to your room shutting the door, you were shaking with anxiety, hot tears fell freely down your face, you slid down your door trying to calm the high pitch ringing in your ears, with nothing else to do you through yourself on your bed and played your favorite Elvis song on, and said how you wish you were somewhere else, born in a different Era, Not here! Anywhere but here! And eventually your crying stopped and your breathing slowed as you fell asleep.
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*it feels as if your floating….all your worries are gone….nothing is ruining this inner peace…..”Enjoying the silence?” You open your eyes and your not in your bedroom, your surrounded by stars and clocks, each clock from a different time era, you can see a sundial, Roman numbers and the repeating sound of a clock Ticking. “Where am I?” Your voices echos through the unknown realm, until you see a woman with a Navy Blue cloak with Roman number’s embroidered into it. “Fear not dear, I only wish to help, how would you like to save the king of Rock n Roll” she asked in a gentle spoken voice . You were confused and didn’t believe her at first but after seeing where you were you started too believe . “Wait….you mean Elvis Presley?” She nods and you think your dreaming. “This is a dream right? Right?!” You ask kinda frantic, you think this is some weird dream. “This is no dream, this is all real. Pretty cool right?” She seems so calm while your freaking out. “I don’t believe you!” Time travel isn’t possible, with all the time paradox and travel.
You don’t? Then let me take you to anywhere and when in the world.” She was ready to prove you wrong so if she’s telling the truth then your more than willing to go. “December 3rd 1968!” That was Elvis Christmas Special, if it was true you could see it live. “Done.” She took your hand a bright light flashed as you felt a rush of wind hit your face and when you opened your eyes, you were in the crowd of Elvis’s 1968 Christmas Special, you couldn’t believe your eyes, and you got front row, Elvis walked out in stage in a black leather suit, holding a red guitar. As he walked his eyes met yours and it was mesmerizing, he winked and kept walking, as soon as his back was turned, you were transported back to time dimension. You looked around and found the Silver haired woman with a somewhat smug look. “Believe me now?” You nod. “Now send me back please!” You begged, you wanted to see him again. “Alright alright but take this.” She hands you a pocket watch with silver engravings and small sapphires. “What am I supposed to do with this?” You asked confused, a beautiful pocket you won’t lie but what’s it’s purpose. “You may stop and resume time as you please, and you may also contact me with it.” The mysterious woman said, you stuff the pocket watch in your pocket, and wait for her to continue to explain. “You know I never got your name, do you even have one?” Okay rude, but she smiled. “Estella, but you can call me Stella for short.” She said, And then she pulled out a gem necklace, a teardrop shaped gem hung from the middle. “Take this, I must warn you to use this wisely for it grants you powers.” Cliché, I know, but you hung it around your neck none the less, Estella spoke once more. “I’m sending you back to 1954 when Mr. Presleys career starts to take off, are you sure you want to take on this mission?” She asked, she’s giving you a chance to back out.
Without a second thought. “Hell Yeah I am!” You said optimism running through your veins, and with that said Estella smiled and spoke one final time. “You will have a place to stay and gather companies along your Journey! I believe you can do this! I wish you luck Y/n!” And Estella opened the portal and you walked through feeling like your floating, you were set on saving the Elvis Presley, and just as you felt like you were floating you were falling, and falling fast well isn’t this just grand. You saw a pool underneath you and tried to aim for it and prayed not to die, and just before you landed putting your hands out waiting for waters impact your landed on a platform made from your magic. “Oh Thank God….” You looked up and saw a Red Headed girl with bright green eyes and freckles and looked about your age. “What in the Hell?! I knew Aliens existed!” She screamed with her Brooklyn accent.
After exposing to the girl your not an Alien. “So your a time traveler? It’s a little hard to believe but you did fall from the sky so I guess I have to believe you, Where are my manners! My name is Sophie! Nice to meet ya!” she stuck her hand out and you took it. “I’m Y/n! It’s nice to meet you!” You explained to your new friend everything. “Well you can stay here as long as you like! My daddy is never home so feel free! And as for meeting Elvis I got 2 tickets to go see him! I was gonna take my friend Mitzi but you need it more! As for meeting him I can help you figure it out!” She just met you and she was already willing to help you, you sat up with her trying to make plans and soon went to bed, early the next morning you both got up bright and early, you went out for lunch and full proofed your plan for meeting Elvis. Later that night you were in a crowd of screaming women as Elvis walked on stage, you wanted to scream but couldn’t and you and Sophie were just full on excitement! Jailhouse rock played first and Elvis was moving and swinging his hips and walking along the stage, and just like when Estella sent you back, His eyes met yours and he stopped and smiled before whispering to one of his Men looking at you and continuing with the concert. Afterwards, while the crowd was leaving and you and Sophie were as well until a man with dark hair walked up to you and you recognized him! That’s Elvis best friend Jerry Schilling. “Ma’am? I hate to be a bother but Mr. Presley would like you to join him in his dressing room.” I guess meeting him wouldn’t be so hard, you told Sophie to wait for you in the car and and followed Jerry, you heart pounding, your breathing fast, you felt anxious, walking through the narrow path Jerry opened the door and you saw him, the king sitting right there talking to the Colonel, sweat dripping from his forehead, he turned in his seat and smiled up at you as he spoke with his deep southern accent, mellow and smooth like honey.
“Well ain’t you a sight for sore eyes Doll.”
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YAY!!!! I’m sorry it took me so long to post!! I’ll try to post more! But I put a lot of work into this one and I hope you love it!
Tag list! @elvisalltheway101 if you want to be tagged next let me know!
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dreamescapeswriting · 2 years
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Show You The World ~ MYG [Request]
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⤜WORD COUNT: 7.1K
⤜PAIRING: Yoongi x Fem!Reader
⤜GENRE: Titanic based, time traveller Yoongi, angst, happy ending, non idol au, “fantasy”
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2022
AN: I hope this is okay for you my love! I had the idea when I was up late one night and I couldn’t wait to try it out for you! 
⤜MASTERLIST
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The band played in the background as you began to walk across the deck that morning, taking in a large deep breath as you looked out at the ocean. It was your second day on the ship and you could hardly believe that you had been allowed to be on board, though it was your job to be there. You enjoyed the quiet mornings when hardly any of the passengers seemed to be awake, you and some of the other crew had the ability to walk around and take in every sight you could.
The morning was your favourite, looking at the sun coming up on the horizon as you travelled across the water, staring up at the clouds as they formed shapes.
"You there!" Someone beckoned making you turn your head over your shoulder. There was a man from first class, you'd met him the night before and he was the most pompous arsehole that you had ever had the displeasure of meeting. 
"Yes, Sir?" You did your best to appear as though you were happy to see him as you walked in his direction, brushing down the white apron that you were wearing. 
"Can you fetch me some items? I wish to spend my morning out here," You blinked at him, your job description was to attend to passengers' needs as a waitress and maid but you didn't think that would involve running into their rooms, 
"Well!?" He snapped harshly as you nodded your head, taking the key he had given to you as you listened to him listing off the items that he wanted you to bring with him.
As you turned to leave he made sharp work of harshly gripping onto your wrist and staring at you dead in the eyes, 
"I know everything inside of that room so don't even think of letting your filthy hands touch anything," He spoke with so much anger that you wanted to tell him to get his own items but you bit down on your tongue. This was your job.
This was going to help you get on the right track and was well paying enough that you would soon be able to own your own place when you would return home. 
"Hurry up about it," The same man ordered as you began to walk back toward the door that led inside of the boat, smiling and bowing your head to anyone who would walk close by. 
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"Stupid thing," Yoongi uttered as he, again, tried to figure out where exactly he was but his watch wasn't working. The damn thing had led him somewhere completely different from where he had wished to be and now he was staring around at people walking around a ship speaking to one another. 
Everyone was dressed in older looking clothing so he had guessed he wasn't in the year 2022 anymore but he had no idea what year it was exactly. If he had to guess he would say between the 1920s and 1930s but other than that he had no hints as to where he was and the watch he usually relied on wasn't much help. Smoking on his wrist and breaking down on the spot he knew that it was going to need time before he could even think about using it again.
"Hi, excuse me...Miss?" Yoongi made several attempts to stop passers-by but no one was going to speak to the strange man that was sporting a leather jacket and a pair of dark blue jeans so he needed to change and quickly. Lord forbid he changed whatever kind of timeline he had managed to get himself stuck inside of, at least for a few days. It shouldn't take his watch too long to repair itself it was pretty good at that for the tiny machine that it was. Strong yet powerful. 
All Yoongi had to do was sneak into someone's room and steal some clothes, then he would find out exactly where he was and what everyone seemed to be doing inside of such an exquisite hotel. 
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"Sir?" A voice came out from behind him as he stood up straight, turning to look behind him as he saw you standing there. This wasn't exactly how he wanted to be caught, half-naked while standing inside of an elderly man's room. Yoongi had seen the man and his wife depart and decided it would be easy enough to steal just one suit from him. It wasn't as though he had the means to bring a bag with him every time he travelled. He looked at you once again, taking in your appearance as you stood at the door dressed in a long black gown covered by a long white apron, a victorian maid's outfit. 
"Hello...Erm, I was-"
"Would you like for me to close the door? Or even help you?" You suggested you'd been walking past the door when you noticed the strange man struggling to do up the buttons of his shirt.
"Please help," He breathed out in relief, he was relieved that you hadn't noticed him sneaking in after someone but mostly relieved that you weren't the man and his wife returning. 
Slowly walking inside of the room you placed down the items you'd been sent to collect moments earlier and you began to do up each of the buttons on the shirt he had been struggling with. Doing your best to only look at the buttons before sliding the blazer jacket over his shoulders and bowing your head. 
The man was attractive in all sense of the words, you could hardly believe he was standing there in the room without a group of women watching him closely. You assumed his wife was somewhere around though. There was no way a man such as himself would be alone on such an amazing ship but you allowed yourself to take in his appearance. His black hair was slicked back and he was physically fit from what you had been able to see.
"Goodbye, Sir," You smiled heading back to the door, picking up the items and expecting that to be your last interaction but the man followed you out of the room.
"Where are you heading?" He questioned, taking four of the books you'd been requested to get allowing you to carry a sketch pad and some pencils. 
"The deck, a passenger wanted me to bring him some items from his room." You smiled, you had no idea why such a handsome man would wish to speak with you or even want to willingly walk alongside a maid but you weren't going to complain.
"The deck? So...We're on a boat." You stifled a laugh as you turned your head to look at the man, had he been asleep when he was bought onboard?
"Yes Sir, the biggest boat in the world." You giggled a little and instantly felt your body heating up as the man turned to meet your gaze, his eyes lighting up as he heard the laughter fall from your lips. 
To Yoongi that sound was the most magical sound in the world to him, it was as if angels had sent you down to be beside him today. You'd, so far, had been the only person to stop and speak with him or even glance in his direction. 
"You can call me Yoongi, The biggest ship in the world?" He was intrigued as to what exactly the ship he was on was called and where it appeared to be going. You took another glance at the man as you shook your head, 
"Sir, are you okay? Did you bump your head?" You stopped in your tracks, stepping to the side of the hall so that people could make it out onto the main deck without you being in the way. 
"No, I'm just curious...Where are we?" 
"The Atlantic ocean." You spoke slowly, worry filling you up as you looked at the man. It didn't appear as though he had bumped his head, there were no clear signs that he had hurt himself.
"R-Right...Right, what year is it?" You couldn't help but let out a small laugh, he had to be joking right? 
"You're very funny sir," You smiled, looking over at the door. You knew by now the man would be impatiently waiting for you and if you didn't get back to him soon your head was going to be on a stick.
"Humour me, tell me the date." You sighed a little as you turned your body to face his own. He had to have been drunk when boarding the ship there was no way someone wouldn't have known where they were. If you were a passenger you wouldn't have been squabbling your time away on speaking to the people that were paid to be there.
"April 11th 1912." You smiled at him, shaking your head a little as you nodded your head in the direction of the door. 
"That would make this...The titanic, oh no." He breathed out panicked, looking around for any signs that he was correct but he didn't want to be if he was that would mean more than 1000 people were going to die and he couldn't do a single thing to stop it.
"I have to get back to work, can I take these back?" You motioned to the books in his hands and he slowly slid them down into your arms, smiling at you. Yoongi had to at least know one thing before he disappeared into the ship, he was going to hide out until his watch was ready. The last thing he wanted to do was grow attached to anyone on the voyage though he already could feel himself beginning to like having you around him. 
"Tell me your name?" Yoongi questioned with a bright smile, he had to know if you survived or not and he could easily look that up.
"Yn...Yn Yln, sir." You smiled one last time before making your way out of the door and back in the direction of the man you had been speaking to that morning. 
"Took you long enough, you useless wench!" Yoongi froze as he looked out of the small window at the door, you were bowing your head to the man you gave all of the items to him. But he discarded them down onto the chair beside him, turning red in the face as he stared down at you, 
"Did they not teach you how to be on time?! My god, you're an absolute-" He raised his hand to hit you but Yoongi had been there in an instant, holding his wrist tightly in his grasp. You let out a small gasp as you turned to look at Yoongi, why had he done this? He was going to get you into more trouble with the captain if word ever got out to him. 
"Sir..." You stumbled over your words, attempting to get Yoongi to let go of the passenger but his grip locked as he stared at the man who had attempted to strike you. 
"Don't touch her,"
"And who exactly are you to tell me what to do?" The man spoke through gritted teeth, his eyes darting to you as you flinched from the mere look that he was giving to you. If looks could kill you would have died ten times over. 
"I am Lord Min Yoongi and I would think twice before striking another one of my person maids," A deep frown appeared on both your head and the passenger, Yoongi had never mentioned that he was a lord and no one had mentioned that you were a private maid. If you had been you would have been assigned a room right beside Yoongi's and you had never met him before any of this was taking place.
"L-Lord...Forgive me, I had no idea." The man stuttered, you could barely believe that the once scary man was now stuttering and stumbling as he moved away from you and Yoongi. 
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"You lied to him," You whispered as Yoongi ushered you back inside of the ship, looking at you with a small smile on his face. The fact that he had raced to help you wasn't a good start to what he had planned to do. The second you told him it was the titanic he should have run to a room but there was something about you that drew him in, an unknown feeling he'd never felt before. 
"I'm not a personal maid, if I was I would have been told long before now My lord, maybe you have me confused with somebody else," You breathed out, terrified that if someone found out that you'd taken someone else's job you would be arrested but Yoongi shook his head. It looked as though there was no going back now, the least he could do was make sure you were okay. 
"I didn't want him to strike you, no one will find out. You can return to your usual duties." He promised as he took in your appearance, you were practically sweating at the thought of someone finding out you had agreed with the lie. 
"No one will find out," Yoongi spoke with such confidence it made it hard not to believe him as you smiled a little, glancing around for where you could be. Breakfast would be starting soon and you knew that they were going to want your help inside of the kitchens and dining area so you departed away from Lord Yoongi. 
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For the rest of the day, Yoongi had spent his time inside of a room that appeared to be empty of anyone's belongings. It was first-class which meant he could at least continue pretending to be a lord until his watch had been repaired. Which had been well underway when he had found a room to hide out in.
While hiding out Yoongi had done what he can to discover who you were in the future but there were no mentions of your name except for who you were on board the Titanic. That was until he came across your story on one of the websites he had been searching on all day long.
It was getting dark out which meant he was going to need to venture for some food sooner or later but he was compelled into reading everything he could on you. 
Assigned to the first-class section of the boat Yn was one of the maids that gave her life in aid of a pregnant woman on a lifeboat. Shortly after seeing her heroic act, she was given another space onboard a boat courtesy of Ida Straus who wished to stay behind with her husband Isidor Straus. But upon seeing a maid climb aboard a lifeboat an unknown man had pulled her from the boat, throwing her into the icy water before taking her spot.
Anger boiled inside of Yoongi as he made his way to the dining room, you could have survived if it wasn't for some cowardly way of thinking.
"Good evening Sir, may we seat you?" A man at the door questioned but Yoongi was ignoring him, his eyes darting around the dining area to try and find you. Once he spotted you anger continued to boil in him, you were placing down plates in front of drunken men, all of which were harassing you verbally. 
"Excuse me," His voice came out clear and you almost dropped the glass of wine you were holding as you turned to look at him. All day long you had been looking for him, hoping to get another look at him while you worked but it appeared as though he had vanished. 
"Yn, would you care to join me?" You stood still, mostly because one of the passengers you were serving had his arm around your waist and smirked at the man before him. 
"She's busy, maybe you can have her when we've all finished." He laughed loudly earning the laughter of his friends as you cringed tightening your grip on the wine bottle that you had in your hand. 
"Yn." Yoongi breathed out as he held out his hand for you to take. Your heart raced at the thought of it, you could spend your time here where you would be touched and belittled or go with someone else and become a liar.
"I said she's with us!" A man stood up bringing attention to you all but Yoongi didn't seem all too bothered as he looked back at him. Yoogni had been around long enough to know when little boys were too big for their own boots and he wasn't going to get scared away by some rich aristocrat. 
"You will do well to watch your tone as you speak with a lord," The man who had once been holding you let you go and took the bottle from you.
"Forgive us, we were just fooling around...We had no idea she was your private-"
"Save it," Yoongi snapped angrily as he took your hand in his own, he knew that it was an odd gesture for many to see but he did not care. If you were going to be on board the boat for the final time of your life he wasn't going to allow you to be pushed around by people in first class. He was going to make sure you had the time of your life whilst on board, you deserved to enjoy your time.
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"Sir, you're not really a lord are you?" You questioned as you stood out on the deck that was at the back of the ship, looking out at the water and the moon. It was a beautiful night but it was freezing thanks to where you were, 
"No," He whispered, sliding the blazer from his body and over your shoulders he was going to be as honest as he could with you. Apart from telling you that he was someone who could travel through time thanks to a watch he had invented.
"But I can pay you double of what you earn if you spend the time on the ship with me," You laughed looking up at him, a strange man randomly willing to pay you just for spending time with him? It wasn't possible. 
"I don't know what you've heard but I don't provide those kinds of services," You began to slowly take the blazer away from your body, wanting to go back inside of the boat where you would be safe. 
"Yn...No! No! That's-" He clears his throat as he blushed a deep shade of red, 
"I wasn't insinuating that, I was just willing to pay you to enjoy your time here instead of being with the men." The more he spoke the more he began to realise how much worse it sounded as he shook his head, groaning a little. 
"I don't want to see someone waste their time on such a beautiful boat and be forced to deal with assholes." You stared at Yoongi, slowly stepping back to the railing as you thought about it. It would be a dream come true to get to spend all of your time onboard whilst having fun.
"You would pay me to have fun?" You raised an eyebrow, it almost sounded too good to be true and it was...Not that you would ever know that.
"Of course, we can do whatever you wish. Go swimming in the pool, place some of the on-deck games...Go to parties? We can do whatever you wish," You'd thought back to what you first imagined that titanic was going to be like. 
You'd packed your drawing items in hopes that you would get to draw in some of your spare time on board. At least now you would have a chance to. 
"I would love that...I wanted to draw on board whenever I had a break so I guess we can do that?" You suggested as Yoongi nodded his head, smiling as best as he could. Doing his best to forget that would befall the boat in nights to come.
So much for wanting to stay out of the way while he was on board but there was something about you that made him want to help. The fact that you were going to be heroic and save someone was deserving enough of having a nice time. 
"I'll take you back to your room, tomorrow I'll arrange for you to have some clothes brought to you." He suggested with a smile, he'd be able to find some gowns and suits from somewhere for the two of you. 
"Thank you, Sir," 
"Yoongi. Please call me Yoongi," You nodded your head,
"Thank you...Yoongi," You liked the way his name rolled off your tongue as you both began to head back inside, ignoring the looks you were gaining from other passengers on board. 
It wasn't every day that they saw a man so close with a maid, let alone a "Lord" with his own private mate so close with one another. It was going to take some getting used to if this was how people were going to stare all of the time.
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Throughout your time onboard Yoongi had done what he could to make your time here the best that it could be. You barely spent anytime apart from one another except for when you would sleep. From morning until night you were together, doing whatever you could to pass the time. You'd also gotten lots of drawings done, mostly drawings of Yoongi since you found him to be quite beautiful in your eyes.
It was the 14th which meant it was the final evening for either of you to have some big fun and Yoongi was making sure you were going to enjoy it. Setting you up with a beautiful gown for attending a party with him. 
"This is insane," You whispered as Yoongi walked you around the dance floor of the ballroom. Everyone looked exceptionally beautiful in their gowns and you didn't feel as you belonged, not even close. 
"It is, I thought you might enjoy it." He chuckled as he stood in the middle of the floor, putting one hand on your waist as he held your hand in his other smiling down at you. 
"I don't know how to dance," You admitted as he chuckled once again, over the time he'd spent with you he could feel himself growing attached which was the least of what he wanted. But even though his watch had been ready since the second night he couldn't bring himself to leave you just yet, he was going to do the unthinkable and help you survive. 
"Just follow my led." He whispered as he began to move you around the floor. His every movement was graceful and matched the music that was playing in the background. You stared up at him, doing our best to follow every step you could,
"Why did you decide to work on the ship?" It was a question he had been dying to ask you this whole time and he had the perfect moment right now, 
"I wanted to see the world...and I needed the money, I plan to move house." You admitted as he spun you around the floor, your dress twirled around as people turned to look at you both. Gasping as your dress twinkled a little under the lights, 
"To see the world? How much have you seen?" He questioned as he gave you a flirtatious smile, your stomach flipped a little. 
"Not much, just the ocean and my home." You admitted as he nodded, turning you into his arms as he looked down into your eyes.
"I promise I'll show you the whole world." He whispered as your back was pressed against his chest as he lowered his head toward you kissing your lips softly. 
You stayed still, trying not to move in case this was some kind of weird dream you were having but everything about it felt real. The music around you surged as more people continued to dance but Yoongi had quickly lost interest as he pressed his lips against yours once again. There were still hours before the ship would even become close to the ice burg but all of that was out of Yoongi's mind, all he cared about was kissing you. 
"Do you always kiss the help?" The voice came from beside you and you sprung apart, staring down at the ground. You knew who the voice belonged to, it was the man that attempted to strike you the morning Yoongi saved you. Cardan Black. Yoongi had found out his name not long into your second day together.
"I do whatever I please, I don't believe it's any of your business," Yoongi quipped but Cardan smirked back at him, stepping closer to you as he snaked his cold hand around your wrist. 
"She's a thief and a liar!" This time Cardan spoke loud enough for those around you to hear, dragging you into the centre of the floor and holding your arm up in the air. 
"This dress was stolen from a lady beside my room, the pearls?!" He laughed loudly as he ripped the beads away from your neck, watching and laughing as they all scattered along the dance floor. It didn't take long for people to stand watch and laugh at what Cardan was doing to you, 
"She's nothing but a girl using you for your money My Lord," Cardan's grip tightened as he brought you closer to his body, 
"We should tell the officers onboard exactly what she was doing. I bet she was stealing from you too," Yoongi's whole body heated up as he turned to you, reaching for your other hand but you were pulled roughly away from him by Cardan.
"I will decide what happens to her, not you." Yoongi managed to say as he looked at you, you were crying but silently clearly not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself.
Quickly you were thrown down to the floor on your hands and knees, forced to look up at Yoongi as Cardan pressed his foot into your side. 
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"Yn." Yoongi breathed out as you stood inside of the room he was staying in, practically ripping the dress from your body as you changed back into the dress you had originally bought with you for your free time. 
"No. They're right, it was stupid of me to pretend to fit into this world." You whimpered as you turned back to him, his eyes finding yours as he looked at you sadly. He wanted this night to be magical before what was going to happen happened. It wasn't long, three hours at most until they would hit the ice and everything would turn into a disaster.
"You did fit in this world, you deserve to be happy." He took your hand in his as he sat at the foot of the bed, looking at you as you refused to meet his gaze. None of this was real. 
Yoongi was just someone you had met on a boat and when you docked he would leave you, you knew that better than anyone else and yet you didn't want your time with him to end. You wanted to kiss him again and again until your lips fell off or you could no longer breathe. 
"Kiss me." You whispered, turning your head back to him. It was three days until you were supposed to arrive in New York and you weren't going to waste them being sad, you wanted him and from the kiss, you had shared he wanted you too.
"Yn-"
"Please," You begged, your hands slowly moving to cup his face as you run your thumb along his skin.
"You're sure?" He inched closer to you, both of your hearts racing as you nodded your head finally closing the gap between you and creating another magical kiss like the one you had shared before.
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"There she is!" Cardan's voice boomed as you shot up in the bed, you clutched the sheets around your body. You had no idea how long you had been asleep or where Yoongi had gone but you were alone and naked inside of a room you had no explanation for. 
"Arrest her! She's a thief and a murderer!"
"M-Murderer?!" You called out panicked as four officers entered the room beside Cardan, your eyes darted for any signs that Yoongi was around but he was gone. Had he left right after you'd fallen asleep?
He'd promised you after you were done that he would do anything to keep you safe, that he was going to help you but he was gone. 
"Get dressed ma'am." An officer threw your clothes to you as you nodded, waiting for them all to turn their backs before you could change. There was a devilish smirk plastered across Cardan's lips and you knew that Yoongi being missing had something to do with him.
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It felt as though it had been hours since Yoongi began searching the boat for you, he'd left for almost five minutes to get his watch from storage and come back to you. He'd made his decision to get you on a boat and wait until he knew you were safe before he would even think of leaving but when he got back to the room you were gone. There was nothing but a trashed room and a shoe you had been wearing before you had been intimate with one another. 
The boat was already filling with water and people were panicking, he had no idea if you'd gone to the top of the deck or you were being held somewhere so he'd been searching. All through the lower levels and finally to where he found you chained to a pipe inside of some cell. 
"Yoongi?!" You screamed out as he stared at the handcuff around your wrist, whoever had locked you up left as soon as they heard the news about the ship sinking. 
"They said it's sinking, t-this...This is the unsinkable ship, it can't-"
"It is, I'll get you out of here I promise." He whispered as he began to look around for some kind of key he could use but there was nothing. The guards had taken the keys with them and Yoongi knew he had a lockpick in his pocket, he'd been raiding everything he needed from his jeans.
"Here," He whispered as he began to pick the lock on the cuffs, your eyes staring behind him as you heard water gushing through the halls followed by screaming. 
"Yoongi...I'm scared." You whispered as he continued to work on the lock. He wasn't going to let you die, no way in hell. 
"I promised I would save you, do you trust me?" There were so many different thoughts in your head. Had he known this was going to happen?
"I trust you," You whispered as he broke you free, wasting no time in wrapping his arm around you to run out of the room. It wasn't going to be long until the halls and rooms were quickly filling with the freezing water but for now, it was a small puddle of water.
"We'll get you on a lifeboat and then we'll figure the rest out," Yoongi explained as you made your way up and out of the bottom of the boat. Your heart racing as you thought about leaving him there,
"You'll come too, right?" He said nothing as he burst out onto the main deck, everyone was scrambling around trying to find ways off the boat while others made peace with what was about to happen.
"I'll be fine, I promise." It wasn't exactly a lie, Yoongi would be perfectly fine as soon as he used his machine to get out of there without anyone seeing him. You linked your hand with him, giving it a small squeeze as he looked back at you. Tears welling up in both of your eye's neither of you wanted to be the one to say goodbye. 
"I trust you...I love you," You admitted kissing him deeply as people moved around you both, you didn't care. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck as he kissed you back just as deep, taking in every moment he had with you. Not wanting to say the three words back to you no matter how much they were true.
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The first lifeboat you had attempted to board you'd given the seat up for someone, just as the article Yoongi had read explained and so he rushed you to another one. Taking you to the other side of the boat where everyone was lining up calmly to get into one of the boats, 
"My dear...Take my spot," An elderly woman suggested as she took your hand in her own, smiling at you happily as she embraced her husband. Your eyes locked with Yoongi, there was space for him if he would take it so you nodded, 
"Come with me." You begged, pulling him toward the line. If he went with you there was no way he would be able to randomly leave. At least if he had been left on the boat you would have assumed he died rather than vanishing.
"Women and children only," He reminded you as you pushed yourself against his chest, 
"Then I'm not going to leave without you...Yoongi please," Yoongi said nothing as he gently took you back to the line, telling the guard to let you on board. 
"Yoongi!" You yelled but he was shaking his head at you, once again promising you that he was going to be just fine. He never should have allowed himself to get this close to you, it was a mistake staying with you. Sleeping with you and falling in love with you, all things he promised he would never let himself do if he went to the past. Yoongi began to slowly move away from you once the guards tried to help you onto the boat, he was about to get away when he heard the voice of someone he hated.
"You're letting a thief on board?!" Cardan. His head shot back to you as Cardan had a tight grip on you, the grip was so tight Cardan's knuckles were beginning to turn white.
"Your precious little boyfriend isn't around to save you this time. This is what we do with dirty little whores!" Cardan yelled out and with each word he took a closer step to the edge of the boat, your back pressing against the short wall that was in place. It was where the boats were supposed to sit but this spot was empty.
With one quick push, you were falling, cold air ripping behind you as you squeezed your eyes shut trying to brace yourself for the hit of the water but it never came.
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The cold air stopped and you were wrapped in someone's arms. You kept your eyes shut too afraid to open them but then you heard a car honking. Was it all a dream? Were you still waiting to board the boat?
"Yn, open your eyes for me...Please," You knew the voice and you froze, slowly blinking and looking at Yoongi as he looked down at you. The two of you were standing in the middle of a busy street, people rushing around you as cars sped up and down the road but they weren't like any cars you'd ever seen before.
"I-Is...Am I dead?" You questioned slowly as you glanced around at everything going on around you. People were looking down at the floor or some sort of device that was in their hands, giant buildings had huge moving signs on them.
"No. You're not dead I just-"
"Where? How?!" You had no idea where, to begin with, what you had to ask him but Yoongi took you back into his arms, ushering you toward a building. The doors parted on their own and he ushered you inside,
"Welcome back Mr Yoongi, I trust you had a nice trip." A man smiled as Yoongi helped you into an elevator, nodding at the man who had been speaking to him.
"And you brought a friend back? How lovely," You didn't know what it was but from the tone of the man's voice, it wasn't lovely that you were with Yoongi. 
"Are you in trouble because of me?" You questioned, even if it wasn't the one thing you wanted to be asking. You wanted to ask what the hell had happened and why you were suddenly in a busy street instead of the middle of the ocean.
"I'll explain everything when we get to my room...Come on," He whispered as he began to pull you into him. 
This was the one rule he had that he would never break. Bringing someone from the past to the future or even being involved with someone from the past, was a huge mistake. 
The first thing Yoongi wanted to do was get you to sleep but it wasn't going to happen. He could tell by the look on your face that you had questions and lots of them, rightfully so of course. 
"What happened to us? We were on a boat...I was falling..." You trailed off as you thought back to it all, shaking your head as you tried to remember everything from that night.
Yoongi could lie, he could easily tell you that it had all been a dream or that you must have hit your head and imagined all of it but he knew that would be wrong. More wrong than bringing you back here. 
"You wouldn't believe me." He whispered as you reached for his hand that was holding a glass of scotch.
"I'm sitting inside of a hotel room, with a man who saved me from a sinking ship...Try me," You begged as he looked back at you, taking in a deep breath.
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"Do you believe me?" Yoongi asked as you lay on the bed beside him. For the last four hours, he had been explaining everything to you, his invention, the Titanic and how you would have died if he hadn't been there.
"If that was nearly 110 years ago...Shouldn't I have aged?" Yoongi shook his head as he ran his hand along your cheek, 
"I took you from your time...I bought you to be in mine, I panicked when I dove off the boat after you," You knew what he'd done, he told you that as soon as he had seen Cardan throwing you from the side of the boat that he raced after you. Forgetting for a moment that anyone who was looking would see you both disappear into thin air, it was another thing he was going to need to find out when you were asleep.
"So, will I age here?" You had a right to be curious but Yoongi needed you to get some sleep, it would be much easier for you to process if you had gotten a full night's rest but instead, you wanted to learn the facts...Watch the movie he had told you about.
"You age as you usually would...As will I," He looked at you, pressing his lips against your forehead as your eyes began to slowly flutter shut. You'd been doing everything you could to stay awake but your body was exhausted.
"Don't leave," You whispered as you gripped onto the shirt that he was wearing but he kissed you again,
"I promise." He pulled the covers around your body, keeping himself as close as he could to you. It would be a lie if he said he wasn't terrified of what could come of this, the butterfly effect was real and he never wanted to change the future but that was why he bought you here. 
Instead of letting you stay in 1912 at least here, you would be safe a little and not much would change from the past until now. 
While you slept Yoongi did his research, digging up anything he could find on "Titanic Vanishing Passengers" but there was nothing. No sign that Yoongi and yourself were ever on that boat, to begin with, let alone some story about a passenger vanishing while falling to the water. At least for now you were safe and Yoongi until he could figure out what his next move was going to be.
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The next move had been for you both to stay together, no matter what. When you'd woken up that next morning he'd told you he would take you back to 1912 if that was what you wanted but you didn't. You told him that you didn't want to be anywhere without him by your side and that was how it had been. 
Yoongi took you to see the world, in any timeline that the two of you wanted to see it in, using his little device he had soon perfected not to break every time that he used it. 
"I promised you I would show you the world," Yoongi whispered as you both slow danced in time to the music that was playing, it was your birthday and Yoongi had gone above and beyond to make it special for you. Setting up a small dance room in his home, decorating it with lights and streamers and setting up music for both of you to dance to.
"You could have taken me to a random book shop and given me an atlas." You joked as he brought you closer to him, the two of you had spent the last two years touring every inch of the world together both in different years and his original year. He was going to give you everything he could ever dream of,
"It wouldn't be enough for the woman I love, you deserve the world and more." He pressed his lips to yours again as you continued to sway under the lights together, wrapping your arms around one another to be as close as you could.
"I love you too." You whispered as he smiled against your lips, kissing you once again before spinning you around under his arm.
"Let's go, I'm sure I have questions to answer that you have." He chuckled, Yoongi would never grow tired of the questions you had for him. You wanted to learn everything that you could about the world and so you studied history books together...A lot. It was something he adored doing with you, watching the way your face would light up whenever you would learn something new about the world.
It was you and him forever now...Or at least until you both grew old together but that was what he loved. Having you by his side forever.
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Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @sweeneyblue1 @sw33tnight @taestannie @jin-from-the-block @acciocriativity @mwitsmejk @taeechwitaa  @justbangtanthingz @stillwithlix @kookiekuu @lolalee24 @lensfilm @hopeworldd-2 @totallynoanalien @yubinism @min-yus @etherealinowrites @heyjiminnie​ @aerastus​
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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years
Text
I watched it begin again
Chapter 4 of In Breakable Heaven!
Summary: Reader runs into Spencer again a few weeks later!
Warnings: none
Word Count: ~1800
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It was a few weeks later before you ran into Spencer again, literally. You stopped at the grocery store on your way home to pick up some snacks for the binge-watching you were planning for your evening. As you placed the third dessert item in your cart, you turned the corner and ran straight into something- no, someone. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You exclaimed as you reached for the popcorn you had knocked out of his hands. “Let me get that for you.” As you stood back up, something about the scuff marks on this man’s converse reminded you of someone.
“Hi Y/N.” You finally manage to compose yourself and hand him the popcorn before stuttering out a greeting in return. Spencer glances at your cart before asking, “planning a party?”
  “What? Oh! No, I just had a kind of long day and I wanted to go home and hide from the world while indulging in some sugary treats.” A blush creeps onto your cheeks as you realize you just admitted the multitude of foods in your cart are in fact all for you. “I couldn’t decide what to get, so I figured a little bit of everything would solve the problem.” You laughed awkwardly as you try to explain your cart. It looks as though a three year old had free rein.
  “Trust me, I understand.” Spencer laughed with you. “I always have something sweet nearby. I am definitely known to have a sweet tooth.”
  “Oh, well would you care to join me?” You instantly froze when you realized what you said. You aren’t normally so forward. “I could use a friend.” You add on in hopes of diffusing the growing tension.
  “Um, yeah I’ll, uh, I’ll join you.” Spencer is rubbing the back of his neck as you begin walking through the store.
  “Great! You can pick the ice cream flavor!” You turned and started walking before you could come up with something even more awkward to say.
  You pick out a few more sweet treats before paying for your groceries and heading to your car. Spencer says he will meet you at your place after he helps you load the groceries into the trunk.
15 minutes later, you’ve returned home and put the groceries that need to be kept cold away. You move everything else to the coffee table so you and Spencer can reach whatever you want easily.
  You are reaching up to get some bowls for the ice cream when you hear a knock on your door. You glance through the peephole just to make sure it is Spencer before swinging the door open with a grin. “Welcome to the sweetest apartment in the building!” The two of you laugh as you close and lock the door.
  “Do you want to watch a movie or something?” You aren’t sure what to say now that he’s actually in your apartment. You don’t have the same barriers you had last time. You are both perfectly sober and neither one of you just went through a massive breakup. “Yeah, sure”
  “Got any preference?” You ask as you look through the available movies on Netflix and Hulu. “Oh, uh, no you can pick.” Great, you hate making decisions.
  After a slightly awkward few minutes filled with overanalyzing your movie choices, you finally decide on Mr. and Mrs. Smith because it had a bit of a comedy, action, and romance. “Well, dig in!” You don’t know how else to start the conversation as you rip open a zebra cake, offering Spencer the second one in the bag. He smiles at you as he takes it, easing the tension in the room.
  You fall into a comfortable silence as you both watch the movie. You find yourself sneaking glances at Spencer whenever you really want to see his reaction to a certain scene. You can’t really tell if he’s enjoying it, but he has laughed a few times.
  A half hour into the movie, you decide you want some ice cream. “I’m going to go change and grab some ice cream. Want any?”
  “Oh, yes please” Spencer sounds slightly surprised at your sudden question, but you just walk into your room to find some pajamas. You slip on some shorts and a t-shirt pulling on a pair of fluffy socks as you make your way back into the kitchen to get the ice cream. You decide just to bring the two bowls, whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and sprinkles with you so Spencer can add his own toppings.
  You somehow manage to balance everything as you walk back over to the couch. You are so focused on not dropping the sprinkles that you don’t notice Spencer has been staring at you since you exited your room. He blinks a few times as you set down the toppings exclaiming “it’s a build your own Sunday bar” as you hand him a bowl and a spoon. You sit back down on the couch, closer than before since you need to reach the toppings.
  “Can you pass me the whipped cream?” Butterflies form in your stomach as your hand brushes his.
  “Whipped cream as we know it today was invented by Charles Getz in the 1930s. Of course, hand whipped cream can be dated back to the 16th century. They would use tree or bush branches as a whisk to incorporate air into the cream.” You could listen to Spencer ramble for the rest of your life.
  You smile at him while you squirt enough whipped cream to completely cover the ice cream and then some. You look up to see Spencer staring. Quickly, you look away and hand him the whipped cream. “Sorry, I just really like whipped cream.”
  “No, you don’t need to apologize! I’m just happy.” A confused look forms on your face as you look back, urging him to continue. “I, uh, I’m just glad you feel comfortable enough to be yourself with me. Most people wouldn’t have even admitted this was their plan for the night. I’m happy that you invited me to join you. I absolutely love sugar.”
  “I’m happy that you’re here too. Who else would provide me with unending knowledge about all the sugary treats?” You laugh as you grab the whipped cream, pointing it at him like a weapon. “Now, tell me who invented chocolate or prepare for the consequences!”
  Spencer puts his hands up in mock surrender as he rambles on about chocolate. “Chocolate dates back to 450 B.C.. The Aztecs believed that cacao seeds were the gift of Quetzalcoatl, the god of wisdom, and the seeds once had so much value that they were used as a form of currency. Originally prepared only as a drink, chocolate was served as a bitter liquid, mixed with spices or corn puree. It was believed to be an aphrodisiac and to give the drinker strength. Today, such drinks are also known as "Chilate" and are made by locals in the South of Mexico. After its arrival to Europe in the sixteenth century, sugar was added and it became popular throughout society, first among the ruling classes and then among the common people. In the 20th century, chocolate was considered essential in the rations of United States soldiers during war.” He finished his ramble with a slight smile and a nod.
  You are so taken with his ramblings that you can’t form a response. In a panic, you decide to spray him anyway. Whipped cream goes flying all over the place as he flails in surprise. “Gotcha!” You shriek as he grabs the can and turns it on you. “Not fair, I answered your question! Now you have to answer mine.” He stops to think for a second before asking, “What language is the word dessert derived from?”
  “Now that’s not fair! You are a literal genius. I run a book store.” Spencer laughs at your feeble attempt to protest. “Just answer the question.”
  “Fine, ummmm, Latin?” You are completely guessing and by the smirk growing on his face, you are not correct.
  “Nope.” He says popping the p. “French!” You grins even wider as he sprays the whipped cream, landing some on your face despite you trying to block it with your hands.
  “Damn, I guess this is only fair.” You say rolling your eyes. He just stares at you in response, his mouth falling open just enough to be noticeable. Right as you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, he reaches over and brushes the whipped cream off your face. Before he can reach a napkin, you grab his hand. Pulling it toward you, you wrap your mouth around his fingers, licking all the whipped cream.
You have no idea what possessed you to do that, but instantly you are trying to back track. “Can’t waste any whipped cream!” The two of you had gotten much closer together throughout your whipped cream battle. Close enough that you can look into his warm hazel eyes. 
He leans closer whispering “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Something in his voice spurs you on. You whisper back “you have some on your nose.”
  Leaning impossibly closer, in an uncharacteristic show of bravery he replies “you better take care of that seeing as it’s your fault” in an equally hushed tone. 
You reach up and steady his face with your hands, leaning in to lick the whipped cream off his nose with a slight kiss. Your face flushes as you look into his eyes. You don’t know if you’re moving or he is but you are shifting closer and closer.  
  The sound of explosions break the moment as you both jump back and shift your gaze to the television. “You know, neither one of these two would make a good profiler if they couldn’t tell that their spouse was an assassin.” You laugh at how matter-of-fact that statement was, the moment on the couch drifting to the back of your mind.
  “You’re probably right.” You don’t know what to do with your hands anymore, so you pick up your ice cream. He pulls you back onto the couch and the two of you lean into each other as you eat and finish the movie.
  Two hours later, the two of you are falling asleep on the couch. After the movie ended, you put on random episodes of Parks and Rec. You finished eating and turned off the lights about 45 minutes ago under the ruse that you can see the tv better without the lights. You’ve been talking to each other pretty much nonstop as the episodes play in the background. Nothing too big, just random information about your lives. Your eyes fall shut, yet again, encouraging you to go to bed, but you don’t want the night to end. He seems to feel the same way, and the two of you fall asleep on the couch wrapped up in each other’s arms.
 tag list:
@mac99martin @goldeng1rl8 @eevee0722 @l0ve-0f-my-life @haylaansmi @dinonuggets15 @laurakirsten0502 @green-intervention @burnin-passion @takeyourleap-of-faith @secretpickleprofessordean
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enkelimagnus · 3 years
Text
Pork
Bucky Barnes Gen, 1777 words, rated T for Hydra shit
Jewish Bucky Barnes, pre TFATWS, post Endgame
Coming out of that disastrous therapy session, Bucky comes home and tries to deal with some of his feelings.
TW: mention of torture and death, of family member deaths.
Read on AO3
Part 6 of Making a Home - the Jewish Bucky series
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The door slams behind him as Bucky storms into his house.
He has lunch plans but Raynor’s words and eyes and behavior stick to the corners of his mind, sickening like too-sweet candy he shouldn’t have eaten. Except he didn’t even want to eat it. It was shoved into his forced-open mouth. He tried to spit it out but he couldn’t. It was too late. It was already clinging to his teeth.
He rips the gloves off of his hands, then the jacket off of his back. There is light in the room, the light from the outside streaming in through the one window he keeps unshaded. There is the tv, playing an endless loop of soccer. The green and the gold bounce against the glass protecting the Smithsonian postcard he put up on the wall.
Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, laughing at some stupid joke he can’t remember. He’s looking at Steve like he hung the moon, and in that moment, he knows that’s exactly how he felt about this sun-kissed Brooklyn kid.
It hurts to think about this picture. To see himself smiling like this. To know he was already Hydra’s, even if he thought himself free. To know he’d probably already lost Steve.
He forces himself to take a deep breath. The expanding of his lungs is uncomfortable.
Why is this upsetting to you?
Because I don’t get to have secrets. I don’t get to be a person. My mind is yours to tear apart and put back together and you’re just Hydra wrapped in star-spangled banner paper.
This isn’t the first time he’s come back from seeing Raynor feeling like there’s a vice-like grip on his heart.
She doesn’t care enough to do her job properly. She doesn’t care enough to do the paperwork to get him someone who will be good for him. So he’s stuck, because she can’t be fucked to make life less terrible for him.
No one fucking cares enough. Not Raynor, not the people at the VA, not his superiors in the taskforce. And not Steve.
The Smithsonian postcard is an insult. 4 dollars and change for a snapshot of a memory. 4 dollars and change and you can bring home Captain America and Bucky Barnes, and look at the card and think you know what it was like to be either of them in 1944. Best friends since childhood. Inseparable. Bullshit.
Bucky wants to tear that card from the wall and throw it away with all of his strength. But he doesn’t. He knows he’ll regret it. He knows he’ll hate himself for it. He’s supposed to keep loving Steve even if he’s gone. He’s supposed to think of him as this… beautiful, glorious, perfect man. He’s supposed to be okay with this.
He told him he’d be. He told him he would be fine, that he could go, that he’d manage.
And now it’s been a little over 2 months and he’s not fine. He’s not managing. And he wants to slap himself. He should have told Steve to stay. He should have told him he needed him. But he hadn’t. Because Steve wanted to leave, and Bucky’s always been the one to tell Steve to pursue what he wanted. Because he made sure he could afford those art classes by taking that second job on the docks, because he kissed his cheek and told him he was going to be famous one day. That he was going to be respected, too.
Bucky’s never been an obstacle in Steve’s way. And he wasn’t going to stop now. So he told him to go.
And now he wants to scream for him to come home to him. To come get him. To come rescue him from this horrible fucking life he’s made for himself.
He knows Steve won’t come though. He didn’t come in ‘45, when the Soviets got their hands on him. He didn’t come in ‘50, when Zola bought him from the Soviets, in the same breath he bought a bomb. He didn’t come in the following years, and eventually, Bucky forgot the name Steve.
Some nights, he hears his own begging. Steve, Ma, HaShem. No one came. No one saved him. And no one is going to save him now, in 2024. He’s going to drown in the sorrow of too many lifetimes.
What else can he do? Once his brain stops coming up with names to add to the list, what will he do?
He has no idea. And he doesn’t want to think of it. Once he’s not useful anymore, what will he be? The list is his expiration date. Sometimes, he hopes the names keep coming.
There is pent-up energy in his bones, but he doesn’t know how to get it out. It’s broad daylight, and he can’t go on a proper run right now. People will see. He has no desire to go into the military base’s gyms right now. He can probably go into the guest room and pull out the punching bag and rip it to shreds.
He doesn’t have a lot of time. Lunch is coming up. It’s Wednesday. One of the names on his list is waiting. He needs to do that. To fulfill the promises he made. It’s his purpose now.
He feels like an open wound, standing in his living room, bleeding out everywhere, burning and stinging with every miniscule spasm of muscle, every brush of air.
When he shows up at Izzy’s, Yori will ask what’s wrong with him, and he’ll lie. He can’t tell him. Yori thinks he’s just a sweet, if a little lost, guy. Moved away for a while, only recently came back to Brooklyn. Ex-military. All things that aren’t exactly lies. They aren’t exactly truths either.
Izzy’s a Japanese restaurant. The building it’s in is old, the kind of old that Bucky actually remembers. In his day, it was a butcher shop, a non-kosher one. Before his mother died, Steve would sometimes be sent to get some leftover pork trimmings from there, to thicken the soup. It smelled bad at the end of the day.
Now it’s a clean and chic place, all painted in dark colors. It’s busy at lunch time, every day. It’s also busy at dinner time, when he walks by on his way back to work. Sometimes, he grabs something to go.
He’s starting to know his way around a sushi restaurant’s menu. He’s not an enormous fan of the rice, so he usually orders those thin slices of fish, the sashimi. Izzy’s has this plate, red tuna and salmon with a side of seaweed salad. The red tuna has a meaty quality that surprised him at first, but he really enjoys it. It tastes thick and fat on his tongue. He surprises himself with the diverse arrays of foods his palate accommodates.
Thinking about the food, about Yori, and Leah, the lady that serves them at Izzy’s somewhat feels good. They’re relatively untouched by the horrors of his mind. At least for now. One day, he’ll have to tell Yori he killed his son.
For now, he wants to be a little selfish. Yori’s old. The kind of old that makes Bucky feel comfortable.
He still has to watch himself, make sure he doesn’t talk too much like an old man, that he doesn’t tell stories he shouldn’t know about. When he says things about the old Brooklyn he grew up in, he says they’re his grandfather’s stories. If no one looks too close at the details, it works.
It doesn’t help the weird distant feeling he has sometimes when it comes to his life. It pulls him away from it. As if it wasn’t really his life.
He guesses he has little in common with the James Barnes of the 1930s. A name. Some memories. Nothing else. His family’s gone, his neighborhood’s gone, his friend is gone, his shul is gone.
He eats sashimi now, with that spicy green paste - wasabi. He watches soccer on a tv in color that he can afford. He has a computer - that he doesn’t use - and a mobile phone. He’s a soldier. He never went to college.
He was smart, back when he was James Barnes. He could have gotten into university despite the quotas. That was what his father used to say. And then he died.
He departed years before Bucky lost his mind to Hydra. He was 16 the first time he led the family in Shabbos prayers. He remembers the quivering of his voice as he stood at the head of the table, in his father’s place, and recited kiddush. He remembers the tears in his ma’s eyes.
He remembers his father teaching him how to shave with steady hands. He asked him to shave him when Bucky was barely a man, before even his bar mitzvah. His hands still remember how to use both the safety razors and the straight-edged ones. Even with decades of Hydra, he remembers it. He’s thankful for that, because the clippers and electric razors people use now are out of the question for him.
The clock ticks and tocks, minutes melting away as he stands there lost in feelings and memories.
Suddenly, he’s late to meet with Yori and he almost runs to the restaurant where the old man sits at the counter like he always does, saving a seat for him.
“You’re late,” Yori points out and Bucky finds himself sheepish.
“Didn’t see the time.”
He takes his seat by Yori’s side. They talk about sports and the papers, and the obituaries. Bucky finds himself looking through the names and wondering if he knew any of them, if they were the loud kids from down the streets when he was a teenager.
Leah comes over with a smile. Today’s special is subuta.
“What’s that?” Bucky asks in a hushed voice to Yori as Leah walks away with a smile and lets them think through their options.
Yori leans back towards him. “Sweet and sour pork. Very tasty. Izzy’s the best in town. You should try it.”
“Ah,” Bucky sighs softly. “I don’t eat pork.”
It’s a lie. He’s eaten a lot of pork in his life. Pierce loved his bacon. But it’s also true. He hasn’t touched pork since he’s left Hydra. The smell of it cooking makes him think of Pierce. And there’s something inside of him that avoids it, even if he doesn’t keep kosher in any other way. He hasn’t ever announced it that way.
Yori nods quietly, not realizing what those four words mean.
There’s no way he can know. It’s Bucky’s secret.
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anne-white-star · 3 years
Text
Exchange student modern au jon pertwee x reader: Studying abroad
Notes: reader is a student from the netherlands she's 20 years old (jon is 24) and goes to england to studdy. She goes to frensham heights school and meets there jon pertwee as her asigned student for the year. It may not all be acurate but please enjoy reading jon lives in rowledge (this is an au and probably not completly acurate)
Words : 2488
Warnings : bullying, cursing
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Y/n was working on her degree in (prefred feeld). Her year of studying concidered also of studying one year abroad, she was extremly exited about it
"Do you have everything dear?"
"I think i do don't worry mom everything will be alright"
"Alright just wanted to make sure, here is your ticket for the train"
"Thanks mom" She hugged her " once i arive i'll call alright
"Alright, take care my dear "
"Take care mom" y/n ran to the train while waving "bye!"
"Bye sweetheart!!"
The wissel went off and a few seconds later the train started to move she kept waving at her mom, once she was out sight y/n sat down it was going to be a long ride.
She had to get from the netherlands to belgium to France and then to London england but she had brought some stuff to sketch a bit the ride was about 7 u 47 min.
Y/n drew the landscape around her sketching with difrent kind of colors
Finaly after almost 8 hours the train had finaly arived, packing everything back up y/n grabed all her things and got out
She had to wait for an other train to frensham cause there was the school she had to go to
Once the train had arived to bring her to frensham y/n sat down again it was going to be about an other 2 hours oh wel she thought its better than biking everywhere.
Late that afternoon y/n finaly arived at frensham heights school the princable greated her " Ah you must be y/n y/l/n" he shook her hand
"Yes thats me" she smiled
"I hope the ride went wel here"
"Oh yes it did everything went alright and the trains were on time"
"Good, you will be staying at a room for one night and tomorow you wil go back home with one of the students he has already been informed of your stay"
"Alright great" she picked up her suit case "please show me the way" about 30 minuts later y/n was seteled in the room, she wasn't going to pack out everything also because of tomorow. She grabed her phone and dialed her mothers number
"Hey mom"
"Hey sweetheart have you arived?"
"Yes i got here about 30 minuts ago and im now in my room where i stay for the night"
"Oh for the night? I thought you would stay there for the whole year"
"I do but they informed me that i would stay with a student for the year"
"Do you know who it is?"
"Not yet they will tell me tomorow"
"Alright wel i don't have to worry about you your 20 years old dear"
"I know mom its fine really, Anyway i should be going i have class at 9 tomorow"
"Alright sweetheart sleep wel"
"Night mom" She hang up And placed the phone on the bedsite table "wel Its time to sleep" she grabed her pyjama out her lugage and put it on, then she went under the blankets and went to sleep
*time skip to 8 o'clock next morning*
Y/n got out of bed and started to dress her self breakfast was waiting then she left her room to eat
"Good morning sir"
"Ah good morning y/n did you sleep wel?"
"Oh yes i did "
"Good im glad to hear that, breakfast is waiting for you it might be difrent from what you normaly eat"
"Oh thats alright im not making a big hassle out of it as long as it is bread its fine"
"Alright then once school starts you will be inform who you wil stay with"
"Thank you, see you later sir"
*skip to 9 o'clock*
Everyone had sit down for class and y/n walked in with the teacher
"Good morning everyone we got a new class mate she is an Exchange student from the netherlands please introduce yourself" the teacher stept aside
"Hi im y/n y/l/n and i hope we will have a Nice year with echoter im really looking forward to it"
"Good miss y/l/n do you know yet who you are going to stay with this year?
"not yet im suposed to get the info today"
"Alright the student you wil be paired with is mr pertwee" the teacher pointed at a guy with big grayish blue eyes dark brown wavy hair and he was wearing a school uniform "you can sit right next to him "
"Alright thank you sir" y/n sat next to mr pertwee
"Hi my name is jon its Nice to meet you y/n "
"Like wise"
"Please grab your english books and turn to page 45"
The day went by fast
"Oh now i don't know who im going to stay with this whole year"
"Y/n You are staying with us"
"Oh... we i guese that we should get my stuff then "
"Good idea, please lead the way" jon grined
"Here is everything"
"Three suitcases and a bag i have seen girls who brought more"
"Oh wel that doesn't really mater i only brought things that i would need, and i got my school uniform today"
"Ah i see, we should go i bet my aunt is waiting for us"
"Alright lets go" They grabed everything and went out
Once they arived home they went up the stairs jon opend the door
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"This will be your room for the upcoming year"
"Oh its absolutly wonderfull" she looked around on the otherside of the room stood a desk and a big closet
"The bathroom is down the hall first door on the left, i leave you be so that you can settle your stuff"
"Alright thanks jon i'll be down in an hour"
Finaly an hour later y/n was done with packing out and placing everything in the right place , then there was a knok at the door
"Yes?"
"Hey y/n I just came to tell you that dinner is ready "
"Oh thanks jon im coming with you" she stood up and followed him
Y/n sat next to him at the table "jon i have a question, um where are your parents? "
"They devorced and they don't want anything to do with me anymore so i moved in with my aunt"
"Im so sorry jon i din't know"
"Its fine y/n don't worry" he smiled softly
"Hello everybody!" Came a voice from the front door
"Hi bill, y/n This is bill my cousin"
"Nice to meet you" she shook his hand
"Like whise"
After dinner Everyone went to bed early to get a good night of sleep, the next day was going to be a long day
*time skip to four months later because im to lazy *
"What lessons do we have today ?"
"Um english, biolgy, art , music, history and french
" and Tomorow ?"
Mathematics, science, sport and geography
"Alright noted"
Once they arived at school they went to their class room
"You go in jon i need to check something"
"Alright"
"Well wel wel if it isnt the Exchange student" y/n turned around and looked at a girl and there where two more behind her , y/n knew her of course she had been there already for four months
"what do you want erica" (Im sorry if it is your name you can change it if you want)
"Oh don't try to be all smart and stuff you know what i want and don't think you get a chance with jon, he's one of the best looking boys in the school and he will be mine"
"Honestly i don't mind i only stay at his place, in 6 months i'll be going back home"
"Good because he wil never like a whore like you, now bye" she fliped her long blond hair over her shoulder and walked away while her friends followed while snikering
Y/n signed and looked down "he's just a Friend Anyway" she mumbled while walking back to class
Once she was back in class she sat down next to him "what took you so long" he wispered
"Sorry i could't find my book" it was a lie of course, y/n doesn't want to talk about the struggels she's having with erica, and stuppid enough she's in the same class as her so she always has to look at that dumb face
Y/n Her thought were stoped by what the teacher was saying "as we all know we have a ball at the end of the year and because its you guys last year here you get to decided the theme of the party"
Erica raised her hand "Oh what about a party with lots of alcohol" she grined
"No erica alcohol will not be tolareated" said the teacher
"Whats the fun then if there is no alcohol tsjk" she scold
"Sir what about an all decade event everybody can dress up from the 40s thill now, difrent food will be served and all kinds of music will be played"
"Thats a Nice idea miss y/l/n" People around the room agreed with her idea
"Tsk sounds boring" erica said and her friends agreed
Y/n got angry but calmed her self down "wel if you think its boring please come with a better idea im curious to hear it" she said with a smile, erica went quiet and turned away
"Alright then its setteled this will be the theme of our ball it will be held 6 months from now"
*skip to the end of the day*
*sigh* "im glad this day is over" y/n sat down on the coutch
"Me to" there was a pauze between them "you know y/n Im really proud of you how you handeld yourself in class
"Thanks jon"
"Are you ok?"
"Oh yes i am, im just tired" she stood up
"What Are you going to do? "
"I have to call my mom to sent some of my stuff over for the party"
"Alright im going to make dinner"
Y/n went upstairs and called her mom "hi mom"
"Hi sweetheart Hows everything going ?"
"Everything is fine ..... mom i was wondering if you could sent some stuff over here"
"Sure thing what do you need?"
Could you pack my hair curler some of my make up, my black evening dress with glitters, my 1930s evening coat, the silver high heels i bought with the dress a and the ear rings and necklace i got from grandma ?"
"Sure thing i will sent it in a big box anything ells?"
"Oh yes my trolley i have to take my stuff back home as wel so thats the best idea i guese"
"Alright i noted it i will look everything up And sent it to you"
"Thanks mom love you got to go now"
"Love you to sweetheart speek to you later"
"Bye" she hang up And went back downstairs to eat.
About a month later everything had arived that she would need to dress up
*time skip to 4 months and 20 days later*
The bulying got worse and worse, y/n had been atacked, spit on and called names but never had she imagined that jon would go to the dance with erica.
She had done her hair but stoped with everything els it just wasn't worth it she would rather stay here at home, jon already left a bit sad by the news y/n don't want to atend
*knok knok* the door opend "hey y/n?"
"Oh hi bill"
"Whats wrong"
"Jon has gone out with somone wich i din't expect him to go with"
"Who?"
"That stuppid bitch Erica"
"Really with her? Goodness i expected better from him"
"Me to" she sniffed
"Hey don't give up now there is still a chance come on get dressed chop chop"
"Are you sure I mean..."
"Yes 100% sure you are way more pretty than her come on "
"Alright if you say so.... but how am i going to get there?"
"I have a car"
"Alright give me 30 minuts" y/n started to get dressed put on her necklace, ear rings and shoes she then did her make up, she grabed her long coat and walked out.
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She opend the door and heared a car horn
"Hey y/n over here" it was bill he sat in a old black vintage car "here is your ride my lady"
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"Why thank you kind sir, lets go" she steped in and sat down
Bill started the car up And drove away
"Thank you so mutch for the help i really need that"
"Its nothig everything for a friend, now come on lets go i also have a date"
Everything was nicely decorated and music was playing, people were dressed up in all Difrent kind of dresses and suits, a table stood against the wall where there wer all Difrent kinds of food it looked all So good
"Look there is jon"
"Alright thanks bill" she hugged him and walked to jon who was dancing with erica, people looked at her as she walked acros the dance floor she tapped his shoulder "hey jon"
He turned around " hey y/n I thought you were going to stay home "
"Bill convinced me to go anyway so here i am" the was caught of guard by a cough from behind her
"Im sorry but jon is my date so shove it you whore"
"Excuse me what did you say?"
"You heared me"
"You know what fuck you its a wonder jon would even want to dance with you, do you even know how miserabel you made me feel this past year, you are also 19 years old you really should be more mature" She was caught of guard when erica shoved her " I get it now you are jelouse of me for staying with jon get a grip, come on jon lets dance" she took his hand and walked to a chair and placed her coat on it, then her beautyfull evening gown got revealed
People stared at her "y/n you look absolutly gorgeous"
"Thank you" she blushed
"May i have this dance "
"Of course jon"
Jon leaded y/n to the dance floor and they both started to do the walz
"Y/n i have to tell you something"
"Tell me jon what is it"
"Well i really enjoyed this year with you staying and i wish you could stay longer, but y/n Im really realy in love with you and i wish i had told you ealyer "
"I love you to jon i really do"
"May i give you a kiss?"
"Sure" she smiled softly at him, He leaned in and gave her a kiss
"Perhaps i can stay a little longer but i need to inform my parents first"
"Thats all fine with me"
"Lets hope they don't mind"
"So do i" he said smiling
And both danced the night away
The end
I hope you enjoyed reading 😊
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itsanerdlife · 5 years
Text
Everything You Want 17/18
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Warning: Lies. Fuck ton of lies. So many lies. Lots of secrets. So many fucking secrets. Language. Violence. Slow Burn. Lots of fighting. Heartbreak. Death threats. Kidnapping. Murder.
Someone is coming for you and your son, Anthony. Too many secrets and too many enemies for you to count. You got out, for reasons. Secret reasons, only Clint Barton knows. Or so you think? Clint takes you back to the safest place there is, Avengers Tower. But how are you supposed to face Peter? Keep your secrets in check? Keep your feelings under wraps? It’s been almost two years, can you really keep it together? You just need to put an end to whoever wants you. Than walk away, like everything is the same, right? Or will you be the one surprised? Everything blows up, leaving you holding the shreds of your secrets and fear.
Tag List Is Open!!
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One of them has you by the back of the flannel, shoving you through the door of an abandon building. What looked to be an old bar, perhaps. You plant your feet on the old wood floor, refusing to go any farther. Your hands zip tied in front of you still.
The man shoves a little harder on you. Your elbow slams back, connecting with his nose. He tips forward, your connected hands smash down on his back, dropping him to the floor face down. You stomp down on his back as he cries out, your head tips.
“Ruptured disk? Fractured spine?” You smirk. “You’re going to need a hospital.” You shrug.
“My, my, the girl I’ve heard so much about.” A voice chuckles from somewhere farther in the building, covered in shadows.
“Apparently not enough.” You smirk, turning to face the voice. “You seriously underestimated me.” You shrug.
“See, that is my bad.” His voice humorous as he steps out of the shadows. Harry Osborn, looking a little more like an escaped mental patient than the pretty rich boy you knew from college. The boy Peter Parker had introduced you to as his best friend. “The girl I knew, she was just a pretty girl in a couple of classes, that my best friend and I would drool over.” He shrugs, a slightly psychotic grin on his lips. The hair on the back of your neck stands.
“Well you aren’t the pretty rich boy, who used to stare at my ass.” You shrug. “Guess people change.” This makes him laugh.
“But see you were always this. Secretly running around with Spider-Man,” he spits the word “saving the world. Taking what you fucking wanted and not caring about who died.” He growls, his features shifting into something darker, scarier, more unstable.
“I had nothing to do with your father and Peter.” You lift your chin.
“Ah but see.” He wags his finger with the psychotic grin once more. “You are the woman, Peter Parker loves.” His hands come out, waving looking more like a mentally unstable clown. “Little you, picked Parker. Of course you did. Peter gets everything.” Harry smirks, he begins pacing. 
“He does?” Your head tips.
“The good life, the adoring father figure of Tony Stark.” He points out.
“I’m not sure you know Tony very well.” You shrug.
“The perfect, accident making him Spider-Man!” He cheers loudly. Oh fuck you were trapped in a building, in god knows where, with your own version of the damn Joker. You groan inwardly. “He got the girl. Oh and so much more.” He grins at you. You repress the shiver of fear that licks it’s way down your spine. 
“More?” You ask, some how your voice manages to stay steady.
“That, bouncing, baby, boy.” He perks up, clapping between each word. “Little baby Parker.” He chuckles. “He got everything.” His grin drops, humor gone. Replaced with pure hate and darkness.
“He doesn’t even know about my son.” You lie.
Harry’s head tips, something cold and disturbed in his eyes. You take a repulsed step back, wondering if you could make a run for it. A hand lands on your shoulder, gripping tightly, making you wince. Apparently you weren’t exactly alone with the mental Harry, he had more than the three who grabbed you.
“But does he?” Harry wonders. Your mouth opens, but he cuts you off. “He’s a smart guy. Excels at math, science.” Harry nods, talking more to himself. Your head tips slowly to one side as you watch him slowly unravel. “He would have put it together. Age, birth date, it would all add up. He has to have put it together. You were in love.” He sighs, in a mushy, romantic type of way, before he laughs like a lunatic.
“But we weren’t Harry. I never knew Peter loved me.” You point out. Harry stiffens at this thought.
“He never told you?” He wonders.
“We were sneaking around. Just friends with benefits.” You shrug. “I wasn’t just sleeping with Peter.” You lie.
“But the baby.” He watches you. “He looks like Peter.” He points out. You shrug, but don’t speak. If he’s as unstable as he seems this was going to send him down the rabbit hole. Harry starts pacing again, a little quicker this time. “Ah, but Peter. He would know. He put it together. He had too.” He pauses looking at you, before he continues. “Mmm but she lies, trained to lie. Peter’s weak, his love makes him blind.” Harry nods, grinning. He rambles on, talking with his hands. “He wouldn’t know but he would know.” Harry nods. “He would know, he might not know, know, but he knows.” You were even starting to get lost trying to follow the rant. The guy holding you looks lost as well when you look over at him.
“Harry.” You smirk as he stops rambling looking over at you. “What if Peter isn’t the father?” You ask.
“But he is.” He grins.
“Peter wasn’t the only one I was sleeping with. I had a thing for brown hair and brown eyes.” You shrug one shoulder. “I never did a DNA test, anything is possible.” You point out.
“NO!” He bellows, you smirk. “No, no, no.” He begins pacing, ranting to himself again. “He’s the father. He is. Peter always gets everything. The family, I never got. The girl, I wanted.” Your head tips surprised by this. “The baby. Peter always gets what he wants.” Harry stomps his foot, suddenly bursting with anger. “But not anymore.” Harry turns slowly, that cold, psychotic grin spreads across his lips as his eyes land on you.
“Harry.” You swallow.
“He’s the reason the only one I loved is dead.” He chuckles, it makes your stomach flip. “I’ve waited a long time for payback.” Cold, unstable humor in his eyes. You smirk back, slipping the zip band holding your wrists. Harry looks startled. Your body turns, slamming your knee into the man’s gut, he stoops. You ram your knee into his nose, dropping him to the ground. You turn back to Harry, who’s looking nervous.
“Two can play that game, Harry Osborn.” You grin when Harry looks almost confused. “You’re the reason Peter Parker broke my heart.” You slip the flannel off, stepping over the body. “You’re the reason I had to have my son in secret.” You move slowly towards him. “I gave up my family, the man I love, loved someone else in front of me, I went into hiding. Because of you and your fucked up, crazy father.” You point at his chest. “Payback is a bitch and Harry, I’m a monster. Not some sweet girl from your class.” You grin.
“How did you end up with Peter?” Harry grins, there’s excitement in his face now.
“Do you really not know him? He’s not so sweet. I like the monster in him, the one he doesn’t show often.” A cocky smirk on your lips.
---------------------------
Everything Peaches 2/6/19: @xmtd5 @mo320 @all1e23 @courtmr @avxgers @eliza-kat @izzy--lee @irepeldirt @dumblani @crist1216 @a--1--1--3 @alyssaj23 @allyp1023 @joannie95 @nishanki1 @bugalouie @kolakube9 @rileyloves5 @sarahp879 @sea040561 @sexyvixen7 @pcterpvrker @pigwidgexn @doctoranon @tomhardy41 @abschaffer2 @justrae9903 @tony-stank3 @bookluver01 @teller258316 @callie-bear15 @nickimarie94 @wandressfox @amandab-ftw @carostar2020 @henrietteoaks @nea90sweetie @amberkay284 @circusofchaos @itsagalaxystar @bettercallsabs @miraclesoflove @lucifersnipnips @queenkrissy11 @elite4cekalyma @this-is-mycrisis @sadyoungadult @destiel-artemis @xrosegoldwolfx
@paintballkid711 @isabelcrichards @iwillbeinmynest @sweet-honey15 @chanelmadrid13 @mellxander1993 @killerbumblebee @spookygrantaire @geeksareunique @supernatural508 @sammysgirl1997 @itzmegaaaaaaan @booksbeforebois @optimistic-babes @childishhoebinoo @elizabethaellison @aspiringtranslator @mariekoukie6661 @pure-princess-97 @capsheadquaters @samanthasmileys @nerdypinupcrystal @atlas-of-the-world @youclickedthislink @futuremrsb-r-main @lovemarvelousfics @notyourtypicalrose @petersunderoos96 @loving-life-my-way @buckystolemyheart @booktvmoviefangirl @supernatural-girl97 @thefridgeismybestie @dumbbitchenergytm @abbypalmer14-blog @fanfictionjunkie1112 @meganlikesfandoms @awkwardfangirl2014 @supernaturaldean67 @xqueenofthecraziesx   @queenoftheunderdark @writingaworldofmyown @shann-the-artist-moon @supernaturallover2002 @daughterofthenight117 @mustbeaweasleyginger @mcuwillbethedeathofme @sprinklesandsugarcubes @whothehellisbucky-1930 @verymuchclosetedfangirl @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @ocaptain-mycaptainmorgan @wonderlandfandomkingdom @crazy-little-thing-called-buck @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @stupendoussciencenaturepanda @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @supernatural-strangerthings-1980
Marvel Tag List 2/6/19: @lumelgy   @dottirose   @jcc04220 @rockagurl @mizzzpink   @jade-taillia @coley0823 @widowsfics @bookluver01 @thelostallycat @shield-agent78 @dtftheavengers   @ilovetvshowsblog @iamwarrenspeace @thefridgeismybestie @whenallsaidanddone @deanwinchestersrifle @fandomsstolemylife00   @daughterofthenight117 @lilmissperfectlyimperfect  
Peter ‘Fuck Me I’m Weak’ Parker: @ml7010 @ariminiria @dkpink123 @boltsgirl919 @quokkatrash   @everthenerd @ms-rogers06 @crayonwriting @baebeepeach @bellamouse16 @honey-bee-holly @messofamasterpiece @britkane-shsl-librarian @kiss-the-stars-goodbye
Everything You Want: @gabile18 @kriswu46 @starkbelova @garbage-bitch @bellewithbooks​
@little-dr-cranberry @tom-hollands-blog @simply-sams-things @misswritingintherain @hitoshi-s-stupid-bitch @verymuchclosetedfangirl
150 notes · View notes
Note
"...A date, then?"
[ sms ] Yes. I’ll pick you 1930.
It was a formal business dinner function in one of the most upscale hotels in the country, and although it had been rather last minute, he had managed to obtain an invite, albeit through unlawful means. Since he needed a plus one to blend in, and to fake attempts at being social and amiable, after some consideration, in which he asked himself, who would hate being there as much as he, Law settled on Shikamaru as his ‘date’ for the night—and he wouldn’t have taken no for an answer. He had based his decision on two key factors: a) Shikamaru would suffer as much as he would by being there, and b) Shikamaru wouldn’t piss him off at the same time. Their cover was as potential business partners who were looking to invest in new companies.
It didn’t matter what Shikamaru thought of the ‘date’—it would have been even more entertaining if the contractor had different thoughts about Law’s intentions. Either way, he wasn’t going to give Shikamaru any finer details, unless it was asked of him. There was, however, to be a lot of mingling with the crowd, while he kept an eye on his target. A buffet spread, music, dancing…the dinner party was already sounding like a huge inconvenience.
Who asks for it:
[x] Your muse asks mine
[x] My muse asks yours [ A case? A favor? Tips or intel? Who knows for sure? ]((Definitely, only when he needs Shikamaru’s help or expertise. Or when he wants to kill him, frame him.. [I guess I understand Shikamaru’s paranoia now.] Unless it’s impromptu…a ’stuck in the wrong place together at the wrong time’ kind of situation. Fast forward two years later, if they’re both still alive and on a…’friendly’ as ‘friendly’ can get basis, hey, why not! A date is a date without any ulterior motives except the want for company!!! Or a place to crash while on the run from bad company.))
Type of date:
[x] [‘You want an actual rematch?’ Date] “I don’t know what you mean by ‘actual’, but if you think I’m going to concede to defeat before having tried a hundred times, you’ve got another thing coming, Nara.”
[x] [‘Whose bike goes faster, I know a scenic route’ Date] YES. Cruising through scenic / deserted routes would be cool. “Yours might be bigger, but size isn’t everything.”
[x] [‘There’s an Arms Trade Expo I’m infiltrating and I need a Plus One….’ Date] So is this! “…only if you’re paying for my purchases.”
[x] ‘Things always have a funny way of spiraling out of control when I’m with you’ Date — mishaps involving ending up in the A&E, chased down by wild dogs/animals, on the run from the police, waking up with no knowledge of where they are or what happened just before, ending up as volunteers for some freak circus show/magic show, locked in a room with a bomb, stuck in the elevator, stealing a cop car, stealing a fire truck……. “…how did this happen? I thought I was cursed, but I think this time it’s you who’s bringing about all the bad luck.”
[x] ‘Let’s see how long the peace can last’ Date “Place your bets. I’m giving it an hour, tops.”
[x] A normal, platonic(?) date in your alt!verse, probably a coffee date, which stays pretty chill and all, after having visited the cafe, where Shikamaru works, on a daily basis for a while because they play pretty good music and serve gluten-free snacks, and it’s not overcrowded, the decor is pleasing
Location for the date:
[ ] Movies• [ ] Romantic Comedy• [ ] Adventure Movie• [ ] Animation (Pixar/Disney)• [ ] Horror• [ ] Drama• [ ] Buddy Movie• [ ] ___ (other options)
[x] Restaurant / Clubs / Bars ((mostly for info gathering, I’d presume?))• [x] Expensive/High Class [ I want to see this happen only because it’d be great to have them undercover and eating fancy ] –> ((absolutely..!))• [x] Small and familiar ((after the Jaffal case though…nowhere is safe. probably somewhere with a crowd could be less dangerous. i don’t think they ought to eat at the same place twice.))• [x] Fast Food ((sucks, but can’t be helped, I guess))
[x] Nature ((anywhere in nature would be cool, but I guess they wouldn’t go anywhere like that if it weren’t for a job. then again, what job would take one up to the mountains or to a cottage by the lake, or anywhere scenic? I suppose if they’re both free, somewhere down the road, this could happen, hopefully before they turn 90 and aren’t able to walk well anymore. can’t appreciate nature if you can’t walk on your own two feet—can’t appreciate it as much.))• [x] Beach [ Okay but imagine them running intel in the summer ] –> ((and having to act normal on the beach? being surrounded by the sweltering heat and children screaming and running about. Shikamaru catching beach balls with his head. watching people be happy all around them. getting sand everywhere..))• [x] Park ((tailing someone, attempting to abduct someone, playing Shogi in the park….?))• [x] Forest ((burying dead bodies that need to be hidden, excavating dead bodies that were hidden, following a trail of clues, lost in the forest because…reasons/bad luck, camping to watch/surveil a house in the woods, just taking a jog))   • [x] …and having a picnic
[ ] Visiting a Museum/Galleries/Aquariums/Zoos/Planetariums ((yes to all of these below tbh. wherever the job takes them))
[ ] Visiting an amusement park ((maybe not this…although it’s easy to kidnap people from crowded places))
[ ] Visiting a haunted location ((abandoned places would be cool to discover and explore. abandoned ruins…hospitals, etc.))
[x] Staying at home• [x] Chilling with music• [x] Playing Shogi• [x] Reading
[x] Casinos are great!! ((I think they could make a good deal of money from this.))
[x] Lmao I like the stuck in the hospital idea although they probably can’t do much there
[x] Also, stuck on an island far out with no means of leaving, with several others invited and a murderer on the lose ala ‘And then there were none’ style
[x] Some festival(s)
[x] Just having a drink, somewhere quiet. roof of a deserted building, in a quiet park, past midnight, if they can’t sleep – i think they’d only get the chance to talk then.
[x] Some vacation island, invited to a party, to kill someone there or to find someone. Someone dies. A battle royale between others of similar careers. I’m just rambling now, haha, sorry.
The date might hopefully end with…
[ ] …holding hands [ This would throw Shika off his game, unless that was the intention ] –> ((definitely to throw him off balance. otherwise, it’d only happen if someone falls off the roof, or some high ledge/off a boat/train, and the other saves him on a whim.))
[ ] …a kiss [ ‘Oh look a distraction’ ] –> ((too obvious? well shit. but it worked, didn’t it?))
[ ] …in bed [ without the risk of the other dying? It’s a tricky situation ] –> ((being in each other’s company is a risk on its own. but yeah, too risky. both would only be pretending to be asleep. ‘I promise not to kill you if you’ll give me all the blankets.’))
[x] …knowing each other better ((I’m sure they would have dug up info on each other. Whatever there is to find, at least. I guess this would take a long while, otherwise.))
[x] …trusting each other more would be great! ((it might take amnesia for this to happen though. I guess in their nature of work, trust is easily broken as well. can you imagine, if 2 years later, somehow they’re still alive and keeping in touch, and Law shows up at Shikamaru’s doorstep for no reason, I bet, even if they have established some trust, the first thing to go to Shikamaru’s head might be, ‘Is he here to kill me (again)?’ Similarly, every time they hear from each other, or meet, alarm bells are ringing somewhere, no matter how much trust has been established. I don’t know, though. It could work out.
It would be interesting to see how they could break through that. It might be tough, since both are wary by nature, and the job makes things worse. Unless, it comes to the point where they reach a mutual understanding of— Hey, we can be ‘friends’(?) or buddies, acquaintances. I respect that you do your job well, and I do mine well. However, SO THAT WE BOTH DON’T GO BALD BEFORE 30, if ever we get a job to target the other, we’ll be 100% honest and upfront about it. When that happens, no grudges are to be held. What’s fair is fair. When that happens that one of us is to target the other, we’ll approach the situation like mature adults and professionals. Basically, whoever manages to outmatch and kill the other, “wins”. Until then, let’s drop all this hostility and tip-toeing around each other, having to be so suspicious all the time because that gets tiring.
But I don’t know if that could work! I think they could certainly reach a point one day, one fine day, where they have that mutual understanding and trust. That if there’s a hit ordered on the other, no sneaky biz. Be upfront about it. It’s even more fun that way if both parties know. Because, then, the mind games get more challenging?
This reminds me of Mr & Mrs Smith for some reason))
[ ] …a marriage proposal
[ ] ___ (other options)
With no trouble, annoying clients, or outliers that could otherwise bother their company, how would conversation unfold between them? At what starting point would they begin to talk about themselves? For men married to their work, engrossed with their own inner demons and routines, what would it mean to get involved? It could start with building trust, a simple idea untarnished by bullets, blood, or double cross.  And even then, whose mind holds more mazes? Will it matter?
I think it would take a long while before they opened up to each other about themselves. In the first place, both would have to be receptive to allowing the trust to build. If they close themselves off and bury themselves in work and their daily routines, being similar in that sense, it’s hard to crack through anything. They could likely make it ten years as business contacts without getting to know the other well at all. Will it matter? It would be nice to find the thing that gets them to connect on a more personal level. I would like for them to be able to talk about themselves or their pasts, but I feel like that may not be something they would share with each other. Neither would feel open to sharing, because that would be taken as a sign of weakness. Even if their pasts are similar, I suppose sharing about it would do nothing useful for the present or future, so neither would talk about it in that sense. However, if they found out by some other method, they could end up discussing it in brief.
Talking about present matters…neither would comment on their feelings or their inner demons. The only way either of them would see any glimpse of the other’s would be if somehow, something bad enough happens that they break down. Even then, that would be hard to stumble upon. I don’t think it takes words to understand each other? Maybe after a long while of ‘working’(?) together.
To be honest, this is hard! Thinking about what they would talk about. I would say…nothing really, other than comments about their cases, spur of the moment quips thrown here and there… But I do think it starts with trust, and then being able to relax in each other’s company.
Alternatively, here’s what I think could help them break past the being unable to trust each other part. If they both saw each other in a moment of weakness (in which some emotion from within seeps through the cracks of their masks), I think it could be easier to build that trust. Maybe. Haha. Sorry, this was long.
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chatcolat · 7 years
Text
Ossuary  chatcolat
One shot about Nico and Will going on a not-date trip to an ossuary and coming back boyfriends or something. Solangelo 
Nico wasn’t sure why he was spending so much more time around Camp Half Blood. Though he had been in charge of performing proper funeral rights for all those who died fighting the Earth Mother, Greek or Roman, he ended up back with the Greeks.
At first he spent most of his time with Jason, and then Piper by extension. With a lot of support and encouragement from Jason, he finally told Piper that he was gay. It was not easy, but it no longer made him shake and feel like vomiting. Being a daughter of Aphrodite, the news made Piper ridiculously excited.
“We should find you a boyfriend,” she insisted.
“No, really, let’s not,” he insisted, trying not to glance at the Apollo cabin. Piper was mourning Leo still - they all were - and focusing on Nico seemed to make her a lot happier.
“Play along and I promise to keep her from causing any actual harm,” Jason pleaded under his breath. Nico nodded. He would never say it out loud, but he liked the attention.
“You can’t tell anyone else, though, okay?” He explained.
“Duh,” Piper replied. “Also, I am SO glad you got over Percy. You can do better.”
She scouted around the camp grounds, watching kids play volleyball, canoe across the lake, or pick strawberries in the fields. Her eyes landed on Drew Tanaka, whispering with a few of her friends. She frowned thoughtfully. “Also, if anyone gives you trouble, or tries to push you into anything, you let me know and I’ll bring the full wrath of Aphrodite down on them.”
Nico turned beet red while Jason laughed and said something along the lines of I told you telling Piper would be a good idea.
 There were a lot of things Nico liked about camp. He liked his cabin, even if he was the only one in it. He had been decorating, making it more like a home - it wasn’t perfect, but it was better. He liked the lake and the strawberry fields. Sitting out in the late summer sun stirred far off memories of his childhood in Italy. Those memories used to be painful, a too-bright spot in a world of dark, but with things looking a lot less gloomy lately, lying in the grass on a summer day no longer made his heart ache. He was starting to prefer spending time in the sun to time in the dark of the Hades cabin. Sure, he still liked the shadows – they would always be a part of him, his birthright – but he realized that didn’t mean he couldn’t live in the light too.
When he went to visit Hazel for a weekend in New Rome, she commented, “Nico, you look so healthy! I swear you used to look covered in talcum.” He hadn’t noticed, but his skin had darkened to the deep olive shade it had been in his childhood. He felt better, stronger. His head no longer ached with poisonous thoughts. His chest no longer hurt all the time as it tried to carry the weight of his hopelessness.
“Piper and Jason are going to go look for Leo again, but they’re settling here for school,” Nico told her. It made him a little sad. He would miss having them around all the time. The thought of being known used to terrify him, but now? Now it was comforting. He would miss that comfort.
“Percy and Annabeth’ll be back in New York though!” You won’t be alone. Hazel knew him too, just a different side of him. The dark, lonely thoughts of children of Hades, lost in time, swirled through her head too.
“Plus you can always come visit us!” Frank insisted. Nico smiled. Frank meant it, and that meant the world to him.
“Of course. Jason wanted help with the postmortem aspects of his Pontifex Maximus job,” said Nico. “But I’ve been making friends at Camp Half Blood, too. The kids of Apollo won’t leave me alone.” He said it like he was annoyed, but he didn’t mind. Especially when it was really just one particular son of Apollo that seemed to take pleasure in constantly inserting himself into Nico’s life. He should tell them, but he wasn’t sure he was ready. Hazel was, after all, still adapting to a lot of modern conventions. Having a homosexual brother was perhaps a little too much just yet.
 Will Solace had proved the words he spoke during the battle with Gaea true. Nico was wanted at Camp. People invited him to play volleyball, pick strawberries, and even play capture the flag (as long as he kept his “Underworld magic” out of it). He had been dragged into learning how to row a canoe. More than a few campers got a kick out of seeing the son of Hades struggle at something.
“It’s comforting for them to see you aren’t perfect,” Will explained after fishing Nico out of the lake.
“Of course I’m not perfect,” his face was bright red. He hoped Will thought it was from nearly drowning and not because their hands were touching.
Will laughed. “Yeah, you’re just the strongest demigod of the century or something. No big deal.”
Nico scowled and a few kids around the docks backed up. Will shoved him back in the lake.
“I thought you were my doctor!” He spluttered as he came back up, desperately trying to grab the edge of the dock. He could swim, but just barely. It was more of a dog paddle.
“Yes. Exactly. You need to stop glaring at everyone and lighten up or your face will get stuck like that.” He made a very exaggerated imitation of Nico frowning. “Doctor’s orders.”
Nico grabbed Will’s unguarded ankle and pulled him in as well. When Will resurfaced, the two of them put on quite a show of trying to beat each other to the ladder. A small crowd gathered around and to watch, laughing at their theatrics. Nico could very safely say he had never enjoyed an afternoon more.
 He told Reyna first during one of their Iris messages. After she moved back to New Rome, they had made a regular talking schedule. Nico felt like he now had two sisters in the Roman camp.
“I hope he’s better than a legacy of Apollo,” she muttered. But when Nico reminded her of the boy that had bickered with him through the entire battle with Gaea, she smiled. It wasn’t like Reyna was giving him her blessing, but just being able to talk about it made him feel more confident, less anxious. His heart palpitations no longer scared him after that.
 The night before Piper and Jason left for their cross-country search for Leo, he told them about how his heart sped up and little butterflies fluttered to life in his stomach every time Will smiled.
Piper, who had been anxious the past few days as they prepared for their trip, lit up like it was Christmas. “Perfect choice. Excellent choice.”
“Don’t push him,” Jason chided. Piper shook her head.
“I’m not, am I Nico?” Nico didn’t want to turn this into a thing, he just wanted some advice. He didn’t want this to end the way his slow, painful burn for Percy had been.
“Just tell him,” Piper told him. “Be straightforward and upfront. I wasted so much time trying to get Jason to pay attention – or, well, that’s what Hera made me think – but really, it is a waste of time and energy.”
“And if he’s not into guys and I make a fool of myself?”
The two exchanged a look.
“Nico,” Jason began. “The whole camp knows Will is gay. He even got some people together last year to go to Pride in the City.”
This was news to Nico. Most things about Camp life were, but this was especially new. It made his old anxiety bubble up again. What did people think, then, about how close the two of them had grown? They were just friends after all. But did people think it was more than that?
“Just go for it!” Piper encouraged. “And then Iris message us EVERYTHING. If you need any curses from Aphrodite, I’ll rush back here in a heartbeat. I also think Clarisse will smite anyone who gives you trouble. She can be a brute, but her hearts in the right place.”
“Do what makes you happiest,” Jason smiled at him.  Nico smiled back. It didn’t hurt anymore.
  A few days after Jason and Piper left, Nico was laying on one of the hills that overlooked a strawberry patch. It was a pleasantly warm day and he had drifted off. It wasn’t a true sleep – he could still hear camp life going around him– but peaceful enough anyways. There was a cool breeze coming off the water, rustling the soft grass. The smell of ripe strawberries hung in the air. A shadow passed over his face and the grass beside him rustled. He cracked an eye open and caught a glimpse of Will settling into the grass next to him with the small backpack he carted around sometimes. It was mostly medical textbooks with disturbing images and gruesome descriptions of various ailments.
He was flipping through a notebook, no doubt filled with notes in his meticulous handwriting. How a dyslexic wannabe doctor had that nice of handwriting, Nico would never know.
Jason’s words floated back over him.  Everyone knows Will is gay. Did that mean Will already liked him? Is that why he went out of his way to hang out with him? Were they still friends or had they become something more? Friends. How did you tell when that line was crossed? Could it be crossed without them even speaking a word of it? Nico snuck another peak at Will, opening his eyes just enough to see the boy, but not enough that would give him away.
“I know you’re awake,” Will said after awhile. Nico quickly closed his eyes.  
“I was sleeping,” Nico corrected. “You woke me up.”
Will shrugged but smiled when Nico finally opened his eyes and turned to face him. “You’ve been ‘sleeping’ up here all morning. You missed lunch, which is bad for your health. Time to wake up. I’m still your doctor.”
Nico laughed, and regretted it. Even when he didn’t mean to, his laughs still came out bitter. But Will either didn’t notice or was used to it by now.
“What’re you doing?” Nico asked casually, trying to get a better look at the notebook. It was filled with drawn images of different types of bone breaks, each bone carefully labeled, with detailed instructions on how to set them. Will was good at drawing. He took his studies a lot more seriously than Percy.
School and studying were curious to Nico. He had barely attended a class since the 1930s, so things like college were not open to him. Percy and Annabeth would start school in New Rome next year and here Will was studying for a specialized medical program in New Rome designed for demigods who had a little more medical training than the average mortal college student. Will’s books fascinated him. He had even convinced Percy and Annabeth to let him look over some of the summer homework they brought when they visited on weekends. Annabeth explained a lot of it to him, but be struggled over the words – more from lack of formal education than the typical demigod dyslexia. Part of him wished he could go off to college with everyone else.
“Going over some notes from a few textbooks a son of Apollo in New Rome sent up. Just wanna get ahead, you know?” Will shrugged. Nico didn’t know, but he kept it off his face.
“Is that a thing people do, or just you?”
Will looked at him and grinned. When he smiled there was no denying that he was a son of the sun god. When he smiled, Nico wasn’t sure how long he could go on trying to sort through the endless stream of questions in his head. Friends or friends?
“It’s recommended, but I’ve already skimmed all the books for first year bio students, so…“
“Both?” Nico finished from him with a laugh. He sat up and looked over the book. Cliché as it was, Nico was already something of an expert of skeletons, even if some of the more scientific names escaped him. For example, he knew about the three small bones in the ear, but he didn’t know they were called the ossicles collectively (Will had a small note next to them: how they hell do you break these?). Will’s handwriting was really nice. He smelled nice too. No, stop that.  
“So, I was thinking,” Will smiled in a way more befitting a child of Hermes than Apollo. “There’s only a few days until camp closes for the summer, but a few weeks before school starts again – at least for me.”
Nico nodded. He had been trying to decide what to do with himself during the Camp offseason. He didn’t want to go back to traveling alone again, but he wasn’t sure what other options he had. Staying around Camp Half Blood while everyone else was gone seemed pointless.
“And I was thinking, you know, we could take a trip.”
“What?” Nico was caught off guard, the sentences churning like the Labyrinth down a path he hadn’t expected.
“Right,” Will looked a little embarrassed. “See, I was reading some stuff online, like weird places to go and what not, and I found this awesome church-“
“Full of bones?” Nico knew where this was going. “Because I’m the son of Hades?”
Will had moved from embarrassed to flustered. “Well, yes, but it’s actually really cool. There was this blind monk - no wait, back up – there’s this special kind of church with like some holy dirt, so a lot of people wanted to be buried there, but after awhile there was no space and they were trying to expand. So then they start exhuming bodies and this blind monk starts making cool-,” he cleared his throat, “making art with them, so more people could buy plots to bury their dead, but the bones never leave consecrated ground.” He paused to take a breath then muttered, “I thought it was really cool. And I feel like you are the only one who isn’t going to judge me for that.”
“Oh, I’m judging you, Son of Apollo.” Nico laughed. Will was good at making him laugh. Maybe if he did it enough it would stop sounding so disturbed.
“But, it’s cool right?”
Nico looked around. Generally, he tried to avoid talking about bones and things around other people. It added to the Son of the God of the Dead creep factor. But if a son of Apollo admits it first? And they were friends, right?
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool. Where is it?”
The anxiety in Will’s face melted into another one of those award-winning smiles. Nico felt a little dizzy.
“Just outside of Prague!” Will grinned. Nico opened his mouth to comment but Will beat him to it. “No, wait. See, I know it’s far. But we could fly there in less than a day! I don’t have a passport, and I bet yours expired like what, 70 years ago? But we can borrow the Apollo cabin chariot.”
“That sounds like an abuse of power,” Nico teased.
“Probably. But I haven’t left New York in years. Plus, there’s a bone chandelier.”
“A bone chandelier?” Nico really wanted to go, but there were so many things that could go wrong. Monsters could attack. Mortal police could discover their lack of papers. Nico might do something stupid and kiss him.
“Yes, wait a minute,” Will was on a roll and cut him off before he could voice the first two. “Let me finish dispelling all that negativity flowing out of you. You spent all summer in Europe, I know. But it was running from monsters and being captured and so on. Plus, with the giants and Gaia gone, most monsters tend to avoid you anyways right? So being a tourist is probably better. Plus, did I mention no soul-sucking shadow travel?”
Nico couldn’t argue. He wanted to go and the practical side of his brain seemed to be on holiday. Part of him even wished they could go back to Venice, but that was pushing it. “How are we funding this?”
“I found some very sweet deals for lodgings as long as we can forge some decent passports, and Connor owes me, so that is also easily taken care of. Do you have a bit of mortal money?”
“Funny enough, I have an account that’s been collecting interest since the 1940s.”
 Nico was not really sure how Will had managed to book this trip so fast – the internet sure is amazing – or how they had managed to cross the north Atlantic with only two monster attacks, but three days after their conversation on the hill, Nico found himself wandering through the streets of Prague. Half the roads were cobbled and the buildings all looked like the world had when he was a kid. But it was still undeniably a 21st century city. As he sat at a Starbucks across from a tram stop he thought I should bring Hazel here. This place was timeless, which made it a perfect place for time displaced demigods.
“So,” Will started as he came back out to the table with their drink orders. Nico looked at his espresso suspiciously but said nothing as Will settled into his seat, looking content with whatever was mixed under all the whipped cream on top. “Prague is pretty cool.”
“We have Starbucks in America,” Nico pointed out. He tried not to make a face as he took a sip. It was not espresso. His displeasure did not escape Will’s notice.
“Okay, you are still obviously missing a few points of modernity. No one goes to Starbucks for their quality coffee.”
“They get those?” He pointed to the thing Will was happily drinking.
“Frappuccino,” Will provided.
Nico frowned. “Is that supposed to be Italian?”
Will shrugged and offered the drink to him. “It’s caramel.”
Nico looked at it with skepticism, but accepted it anyways. It was a lot better than his ‘espresso’. He handed it back longingly. “Yeah, okay, it’s good.”
“The trick is to not think of it as coffee,” Will said with a wink and took another big sip.  
Nico realized awhile ago Will made it hard for him to think straight, so he was not too surprised when he saw his hand reach out to pull the drink back for another sip.
“I can get you one,” Will laughed.
Nico shook his head as he handed it back. “Aren’t you still playing doctor? This much sugar’ll probably kill me.”
Will shrugged and pulled the lid off to eat some of the whipped cream. “So tomorrow we take the train out to Sedlec,” he stumbled over the Czech name, but it didn’t seem to bother him. “Should take and hour or so.”
“All this regular travel takes forever,” Nico muttered. Sure, it was easier to cross continents in a plane or a chariot, but the idea of taking a train for an hour when he could have just shadow traveled in a few minutes a few months ago? It hurt. He how long until he could start using his Ghost King powers again?
“Ha. No. Don’t even start. If you disappear into the shadows, this trip will suck. I can’t make excuses for this trip without you.”
“Aha, the real reason you wanted me to come along. I’m being used so you look less creepy for suggesting going on vacation to an ossuary.” Nico was joking, or at least, he said it like he was joking. Part of him worried it was true. The part of him that had no friends until a month was still convinced this was all a dream or some crazy trick concocted by some other campers. But no. They were friends, right? Friends? Maybe?
“Yes, that exactly. I didn’t invite you for your company or anything,” Will said. Nico could appreciate the snarky tone. Will handed the drink back to Nico. “By the way, on a scale of one to umbra, how shadowy are you feeling today?”
“You aren’t actually my doctor,” Nico replied.
“No, but I am your friend. I’m allowed to worry.”
Nico wished making his heart stop fluttering was as easy as shadow travel.  “I’m fine. Probably a two or three – a solid ray of sunshine.” They both glanced down at his black jeans and skull tee-shirt and laughed.
After a moment of silently passing the Frappuccino back and forth, Will said, “I would be sad if you disappeared, though. Not just because it’d be hard to explain back home, but because I would miss you.” Will’s nervous eyes wouldn’t meet his, which only made Nico’s heart beat faster. If he was nervous too, did that mean he was trying to figure it out too? Were they friends or friends?
There was a tension in the air that wasn’t there before, like they both realized that sneaking away for a trip to Prague together was maybe not something normal friends did. Was this, sitting and drinking coffee together, a date?
No, no, no. Nico scolded himself. Thinking like this made his heart beat faster and the tumbling of wings in his stomach almost unbearable.
He reached for the Frappuccino and stood up. “Wanna explore the city?”
Will grinned. “There’s this giant radio tower with giant babies climbing up it.”
 Sedlec Ossuary was tucked out of the way in the little town. They ended up going to another church first before getting directions to the church of bones.
“This is it?” Will asked. They stood in front of a much smaller church than the last one.
“I feel death,” Nico said by way of affirmation.
Will scoffed. “You said that about the last one.” It wasn’t his fault. Churches were haunted places. Funerary rites and graveyards left lots of spirits and bones hanging around. This could be applied to small European towns in general. So many dead over the centuries from war, plague, and hatred. It got overwhelming.
“Yeah, but this one has a skull on the gate.”
Will looked up and nodded. “Right. Here we come, bone chandelier!” He said it with a little too much enthusiasm but the other people milling about were either also tourists who understood the macabre interest or locals who were probably used to it. No one even glanced twice at Nico.
They walked through a tiny and crowded but loved graveyard and into the church. There was a small admittance fee they paid to a very bored looking youth, and then steps down into the crypt. Will hesitated at the top, his eyes fixed on the bones fixed to the walls. Some dangled down over the stairs. Others imitated the architecture, following arches around the ceiling. On a low wall over the stairs was what looked like a crucifix made of bones with femurs making sun rays around the skeletal representation of Christ. Nico thought it was kind of awesome.
“You can’t chicken out now.”
“Why are we here again?” He asked. For a second, Nico genuinely believed him. The doubts that any of this was real or possible swam around in his brain. Then his eyes met Will’s blue ones and Nico realized he wasn’t asking why he was here with him, he was remembering his demigod mortality. Going into basements decorated with bones was definitely a no-no for children of the gods who didn’t want to die. “Nothing is like, gonna kill us down there right?”
Nico relaxed and tried to smile in a way that was comforting, but he wasn’t sure that was possible for a child of Hades in a church of bones. “No angry ghosts. The magic dirt must have been really good. Plus you’re with a son of Hades. This is my element – literally.”
Will nodded, then slipped his hand in Nico’s and started down the stairs. Nico, surprised, came stumbling after, his face growing warmer with each step. There were lots of tourists around them. Plenty of people to notice. What would they think? Would they turn away in disgust?
None of them paid the two teens any attention. Will’s hand was warm and a little sweaty from the summer heat. Nico never wanted to let it go.
“Oh my gods,” Will muttered as their eyes adjusted to the low light at the bottom of the stairs. There were giant mounds of bones all around them, piles taller than the two of them put together. An actual crucifix hung on a dark wall surrounded by skulls. Two smaller crucifixes like the bone one above stared at the body of Christ. Will was transfixed by the year and name on the wall next to them, made entirely out of curving human ivory.
“I like the style. Think I could get that in my cabin?” Nico joked. Will turned to him, a mischievous smile on his face, ready to make a comeback but he froze, his eyes fixed on something over Nico’s shoulder.
“I think you need that,” he gestured with a nod of his head, squeezing Nico’s hand a little tighter. Nico turned. How he had managed to miss it, he would never know, but there in the middle of the room was a giant chandelier made of bone.
“Yes,” he breathed. It was terrifying, but oddly beautiful. Nico didn’t know the names for all these bones, but he recognized jaws, and hips, and legs. Spines made up swooping candle holders topped with skulls. Four pillars of skulls surrounded it on for sides.
“I’m thinking this blind monk was a son of Hades,” Will muttered, leaning gently against him as they admired the sheer number of bones collected in one place.
“Yeah, I gotta say, even Hades palace isn’t quite this intense,” Nico joked. “Maybe Dad should find this guy and have him redecorate.”
Will grinned, squeezing Nico’s hand again as he pulled him along to look at more of the room. They spent a good hour down there, quizzing each other on the names and locations of the bones. They did end up drawing attention, but for their excellent knowledge of skeletal structure, not the fact that they were still holding hands. They got stopped by a few tourists who wanted to ask them questions and at one point even had a small crowd going.
“You two are so smart!” a middle-aged lady complimented them after Nico explained that the large flat bones around the skulls of the chandelier were from the pelvis. “Your parents must be so proud!”
They both glanced at each other, thoughtfully. Would Hades or Apollo care? What about their mothers?
The laughed about it later over ice cream from a shop next to the ossuary.
“I think Apollo’d be creeped out by this place,” Will laughed. “No way he’d go into the crypt.”
“Hades would probably be unimpressed. It’s so… peaceful. I’ve never been to a peaceful cemetery before.” Nico was staring at the impressions of skulls made with mosaic tiles on the wall. Then Will’s hand brushed his on the table and his eyes blinked in time with his suddenly racing heart. Will hesitated, less confident when they weren’t plunging gung-ho into a monk’s morbid art project.
Piper’s words echoed in Nico’s ears. Be straightforward. Without looking away from the mosaics, Nico reached for Will’s hand, lacing their fingers together. He waited until Will’s fingers settled gently over his knuckles before turning to face him.
Will’s eyes were brighter than the sky, silently asking all the same questions that were floating around in Nico’s head.
“I wasn’t sure,” Will said.
“Yeah,” Nico was too nervous to say anything witty.
“You can be really hard to read sometimes.”
“I get that a lot,” Nico tried.
Will smiled a little. It wasn’t his usual, son of the sun god smile, but a smaller, more self conscious one. It felt private and special.
“I like you,” he said. Nico’s heart collided with his ribcage.
“I like you, too.” Will’s smile widened. He looked like a dork. Nico realized he was smiling too and probably looked equally ridiculous. He didn’t care.
“You can’t actually put a bone chandelier in your cabin,” Will told him. “I think using the bones of dead campers would really put a damper on the space.”
Nico laughed and for once it didn’t sound like he was in pain.
 They were sitting in a monastery park in a residential district that evening, eating takeaway from a Czech restaurant across the street. Will had held his hand the rest of the day. There were a couple old folks who looked at them a bit funny but no one said anything. They were leaving tomorrow, but Nico almost wished they weren’t. Something about this whole trip felt magical in a very normal and not god related way. He liked that.
“Just so you know, I’m pretty sure Apollo cabin placed bets,” Will said, taking a swig of his drink.
“What?” Coke came out of Nico’s nose.
“My siblings, they’re placing bets about whether or not we’re getting together.”
“Yeah,” Nico choked, trying to mop up the mess he made with napkins. “I got that, thanks, but why exactly? Isn’t this, I don’t know, private?”
Will shrugged. “What is privacy at Camp Half Blood? Didn’t Percy used to take Annabeth to the bottom of the lake to get private time when they first started dating?”
Nico didn’t know how he could be relaxed about the whole thing. “Last I checked, neither of us can breathe under water!”
“Uh, that’s what Hades’ cabin is for. No one would go near there without your permission. That’s why you can’t get the chandelier,” Will joked. Then, more seriously he asked, “Does it embarrass you that much?”
“Yes! Of course it’s embarrassing! I get embarrassed for Piper and Jason all the time!” There was a lot more to it than that, but Nico wanted to be brave for Will. For himself.
Will smiled a little. “Yeah, that’s true.”
“I was finally falling out of all the gossip,” Nico whined. Flopped dramatically into the grass next to Will. Will still looked a little hurt so he added, “I guess it can’t be helped.”
“It can’t?” Will looked hopeful.
Nico shook his head.
“I’m tired of the shadows.”
Notes: Sedlec Ossuary is cool.  Less than a week after writing the note in Will’s book about breaking ossicles, I ran into a colleague in the city WHO BROKE ONE. It was a very funny situation. 
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oswaldsleeping · 7 years
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Series: Viva Las Vegas Or: How Jack Morrison became Jack Reyes Chapter(s): 1/1 Rating: T Wordcount: 3,174 Warnings: brief mentions of sex Summary: When in Vegas, do as the Vegasans do. Author’s Notes: i just wanted to do r76 week like the cool kids :3c
No one could tell why this year's summit was being held in Las Vegas of all places.
  It's doesn't fit, when you think about it. No one thinks "important, world changing decisions" when they think of the City of Lights and nothing has really cooled Vegas' debauchery - not politics, war, or time.
  But there he was, Strike Commander Morrison of Overwatch, shaking hand with Senator Who-Really-Cares-They're-All-The-Same in Sin City itself.
The Bellagio was as beautiful as they said, the marble halls echoing with voices and the click-clack of overpriced shoes. The wine flows freely, waiters in pressed white shirts offering him bits of this-and-that. The lights make the night seem like daytime, the sounds of the city vibrating in the air.
Vegas was, and is, eternal.
  Knowing what he does about politics, Jack assumes whoever chose the location has a girlfriend in the area. Hell, most of the people here probably have a girlfriend (or two) in the area. It's the nature of politics – get some work done, romance your paramour, get more work done. Two birds with one stone, right?
He feels slimy enough having to shake hands with these people; he can't see the appeal of hopping in bed with them.
  - - -
  You don't have to be a genius to see Jack's not a "Vegas" kind of guy. The loudest Bloomington ever got was the church's summer potluck when the pastor decided to fire up the organ and play Bruce Hornsby (every summer - there's only so much The Way it Is one man can take).
Vegas is pretty. Hell, Vegas is beautiful. But it's too much - the city's too loud, too...fast. It's like the ocean, churning and crashing. The people never seem to stop moving, they just kind of...gyrate everywhere.
He won't be singing Presley anytime soon, let's go with that.
  But it has it's perks, he guess. Five years ago saw the repeal of the “12:00 AM Marriage Limit” and couples were getting hitched all hours of the night once more.
  Admittedly, it's sweet to see young couples running out of gaudy, neon churches, their faces shining with delirious joy. Even from the windows of this too-perfect, too-expensive hotel, he could see them celebrating on the streets (talk about eagle-eye). Sitting another stifling gala, in another smothering suit, Jack can't help but watch these happy couples with a pang of jealousy.
  He's no blushing bride, but...hey a man can dream right? He's never been interested in big weddings or elaborate ceremonies. They just seemed so stressful.
No, Jack leaned more towards the small and the sweet - a handful of friends, a quick ceremony. He feels like such a teenager, sitting in class and daydreaming about flights-of-fancy. He turns his attention back to the woman speaking to him, his face fixed into the best smile he could muster.
  45 minutes to go.
  - - -
  45 minutes feels like three days. When he's finally allowed to leave, he all but drags himself to the elevator. It's exhausting, kissing that much senator ass and he's really ready to sleep off this jaw ache.
And besides – he's not needed until 1930 the following night. Which means a whole 19 hours of sleep.
Christ he hasn't had that in ages.
Morning run be damned, after 2 straight weeks of 18 hour days he's going to get some shut eye if it kills him.
  - - -
  In everything but name, they're together.
  So there's no real surprise when he gets off on the “wrong” floor, goes into the “wrong” hall, and puts his key into the “wrong” door. Jack has his own room but, as with most things, it goes unused.
He never did like sleeping alone.
  Reyes snores lightly, already fast asleep. He's in a similar boat, overworked and with a staggering sleep debt. It's...unnerving – Reyes' is a naturally light sleeper, it says a lot that he doesn't awake the moment Jack opens the door.
  Honestly, Jack's surprised Gabriel hasn't asked for a different room. When he'd stormed out that morning, he was certain Gabriel would want to get as much space between them as possible.
What had the morning's fight even been about? Jack can't even remember - only that there was no goddamned reason for it to turn into a fight at all.
  Putting it lightly, things have become...strained between them. New standards of authority, new ranks, new procedures - politics has wormed it's way into their love life, a death sentence for most. Jack rubs his eyes, trying to shake the stupid fight out of his head.
  Years ago, they didn't fight about this shit. Hell, they barely fought at all.
Sure, they had disagreements, differing opinions. There's no such thing as a couple that won't have that and anyone who says different is a piss-poor liar.
But they never turned into the screaming, name calling, trash-flinging matches they are now. Jack thinks about some of the things he'd said that morning, feeling an embarrassed flush creep down his neck. He knew better – knows better.
  Still...still they sleep together. Considering circumstances, that says a lot.
  During SEP and the war, they slept back to back - both with one eye open, half a mind ready to spring into action. Between them, they made one functioning human being and, at the end of the day, that's all you need.
Do that enough and it becomes a habit. Practice that habit for years and it become a necessity. Jack doesn't sleep well when he can't feel Gabriel's back against his. It makes him fell unprepared.
  He tosses his clothes off, stripping to the skin. Taking off the heavy armor, he's not Strike Commander anymore he's Jack. He feels normal again - a feeling he never thought he'd long for so much.
  It's easy to find Reyes' hoodie (one of many) in the dark. He slips it over his shoulders, nuzzling his face into the soft insides. The musk of cologne and cigarettes surround him, cradle him. His bare skin tingles as he stumbles to the bed.
  “Move it,” he grunts, pushing Reyes to the side
Gabriel grumbles and rolls back. Jack flops onto the bed, heaving a great sigh, the tension leaking from his muscles. The blanket is soft and plush, the pillows cool to the touch and goddamn is he happy the UN is providing the best of the best for their commanders.
  Arms snake around his waist, pulling him into the warmth of Reyes' chest. Jack groans, laying his head back on Gabriel's shoulder, his eyes fluttering shut.
  "Hey." He whispers, fingers interlock with Gabriel's, "Sorry about this morning."
  "'s okay."
  They sleep.
  - - -
  He gets a good two hours of sleep before he feels lips on his neck.
“Jack. Jaacck.”
“Wuzzit.” He slurs, head still tucked into the pillow.
“Jackie wake up.”
“Dunwannah.”
“C'mon Jackie – up, up, up.”
  How Gabriel can go from 0 to 100 is completely beyond Jack. He'll never quite understand this man's bizarre form of energy storage - dead exhausted one minute, running around the room the next - really, it's entirely unfair.
  “Wake up John” Gabriel nuzzles his mouth into Jack's neck, drumming his fingers against his hip, "I've been thinking."
“I'll alert the authorities.” Jack grunts, his words still slurring. It takes everything in him to be semi-coherent.
“Don't play. I'm being serious.” Gabriel snaps, nipping Jack's shoulder. He's sitting up on his elbow now, his fingers still drumming on Jack's hip, “We need to get a new apartment.”
“Gabe we have an apartment,” Jack opens one exhausted eye, searching around for his watch.
In reality, it's not so much an apartment as Gabe's quarters on base that they'd decided to share. And sure, the place is way too small for two full grown men, Jack will admit that whole-heartedly. But it's not like they have time to apartment hunt.
  “No, a bigger apartment. Actually, no, no, a house.”
  Oh lord, Gabriel's thinking big. Jack rolls his eyes, sliding off the bed to crawl along the floor, still searching for his watch. It's one of the things that he both loves (and, at this time of night, loathes) about Gabriel. An idea will pop in his head and suddenly he leaps headlong into it, going through every minute detail, every con and pro. Gabriel's mother had a name for it - "thinkin loco".
  “It's 1:17, Gabe," Jack groans, holding up his (finally found) watch, "Did you really wake me up to tell me we should get a house? Because you could told me that when I woke up."
“Actually, I woke you up to tell you we should get married, but yeah, that too.”
  Oh.
  Well, that woke him up.
  Jack sits up bolt-right, eyes gone wide. Married?
...Married...
  “Have you been drinking?”
“No!” Gabriel guffaws, that wonderful, throaty laugh, “Why do I have to be drinking to ask you to marry me?!”
“Well, you've either been drinking or you're joking, and if you are joking, it's not funny.” Jack climbs back on the bed, irritated.
“I'm not joking either.” Gabriel's smiles, grasping Jack's hand, “We're in Vegas, after all, we could go right now.”
Gabriel seems so serious...Jack looks at their hands, studies them. He can almost convince himself that Gabriel's being entirely sincere. Gabe's smiling at him, that serene, sweet smile that he reserves for the people he cares for. It's so rare to see...
  Why would he want to marry a screw up like you?
  Jack snatches his hand back. He stands, beginning to pace the floor, back and forth, back and forth.
“Why?” Jack starts, his hands on his hips.
“Why not?” Gabriel swings his legs off the side of the bed, leaning back on his elbows, “I love you, you love me. Does it have to be more complicated than that?”
“The press -”
“Doesn't have to know.” Gabriel quirks an eyebrow – Jack hates how he looks so confident in everything.
“...A ceremony...we'll have to tell everyone.”
“No we won't because it's not “everyone's” businesses what we do. Hell, I'm not planning on telling anyone. Are you?”
"You've always got an answer for everything," Jack snaps, still pacing
"That's why you love me." Gabriel smirks
  Jack gradually begins to slow, one hand still on his hip, the other running through his hair (He can hear Gabriel chiding already -“You're going to pull all your hair out like that!”)
  And then he gives a breathless laugh, gingerly sitting besides Gabriel. Adrenaline begins to flood his body, his brain going sixty miles a minute.
  “You want to get married, oh Jesus...”
  His head falls into his hands, his eyes still wide and searching.
  This...it doesn't make sense, not to Jack.
He's not a good person, he's possessive, he's easily jealous, he's petty - this list could go on and on for miles.
His skeleton's don't have a closet, they have a goddamned house and Gabriel wants the fucking keys. No sane person would do this.
  "I...we got into the stupidest fight this morning." Jack spoke into his fingers, "We keep getting into these petty, bitchy arguements over shit that isn't even that important, and you want to get married. I don't understand..."
It keeps repeating in his head Why would he want to marry a screw up like you, why would he want to marry screw up like you, why would he want to marry screw up like you?
  “We don't have to.” Gabriel's soft voice cuts through the fog. A hand rests on the small of his back, rubbing small circles, “We can wait as long as you want to. Hell, we never have to get married, if that's what you want. I didn't mean to scare you.”
  It will always amaze Jack at how...kind Gabriel really is. His gruff exterior hides someone so warm, so unfalteringly selfless. Jack gives another breathless laugh, his eyes beginning to sting.
“No...no, I want to but...oh god, Gabe, you could do so much better.”
  Jack knows his flaws. Knows them well. Knows them very well, knows that Gabriel doesn't deserve to be tied down to someone who can barely function as a human being.
But Gabe laughs. Grabs Jack by the shoulders and pulls him down, guiding his head into a kiss.
  “Don't think I agree with that, mi luna.”
“You're a stupid man Gabriel Reyes.” Jack says into his lips, clutching onto him for dear life.
  They stay like that for what feels like an eternity, holding onto each other while the city thrums beneath them.
“Okay.” Jack says finally, his eyes squeezed shut.
“Okay?”
“Yeah....okay.”
  - - -
  They dress as quickly as possible, as casually as possible – the best kind of hiding is in plain sight, right?
“There's a service elevator,” Jack says breathlessly, his hands playing with the edges of Gabriel's hoodie, “Down the hall. We take that, avoid the media circus outside...”
Gabriel laughs, grabbing his duffle bag – leave it to Jack to think about the “escape plan”
“We need a witness.” Jack's sitting on the edge of the bed, legs shaking, “Ana?”
“Naw, not this late with the kid.” Gabriel's looking in his bag for something, his back turned to Jack, "Now where did I..."
“Who then?” Jack's hands fiddle with one another, finally grabbing onto his knees. He chews his bottom lip - he's too old to be this nervous, but the butterflies in his stomach have turned into fucking hornets and he feels like he's going to be sick, “I guess they'll have somebody there-”
“Stop worrying. C'mon, let's go.” Gabriel tosses the duffle bag away, guiding Jack to his feet, “I know who to get.”
  - - -
    Contrary to popular belief, Jesse does not sleep in his hat. He does, however, sleep in his underwear and like a fucking log.
  Which would explain why he shrieks when Gabriel hollers in his ear “UP AND AT 'EM, MIJO”
Jesse flies off the bed, lading in an ungraceful heap while Gabe wheezes with laughter.
“T-The hell y'all doin here?!” Jesse demands, his eyes darting between a choking Gabriel and a deer-in-the-headlights Jack, “What's goin on?!”
“Nice shorts,” Gabriel snickers at the dancing sheep that dot Jesse's boxers, “Get dressed, you're going to a wedding.”
“...A wedding?” Jesse scrambles to his feet, yanking his clothes off the floor, “Who the fuck's gettin married at 2 in the--”
He pauses, midway through the first jean leg and looks between the two. He knows that smirk Gabe's giving him.
And then he grins, bouncing to get into his jeans quicker.
"Well shit, if ya'll'da told me, I would've brought something fancier."
  - - -
  It's a whirlwind from the hotel, to the marriage license bureau, to a wedding chapel (who knew it would be so tempting to be married by Elvis?)
  Jack stands in the hallway, staring at the empty pews and sleepy receptionist. They're the last couple of the night, it seems, the reverend welcoming them warmly.
"Let me know when you're all ready to get started." He says, getting his cards together and leaning on the pedestal - he's got this speech perfectly, could tell it to you by heart, Dearly Beloved we are gathered here today...
  Jesse's sitting at the front pew, reading over the chapel's brochure ("It costs how much to have Elvis sing?!"), Gabe's adjusting his jacket in the mirror one last time. Jack continues to stare at the empty chairs, running his finger over the well-loved wood.
  "I keep thinking I'm going to wake up," He murmurs, "That this is all a dream and you went back to base after this morning."
That I'm going to wake up alone, is the unspoken fear, And I'll have driven you off for real this time.
"Your dream wedding would have more food," Gabriel chuckles, taking off his beanie. He's freshly shaved, his beard messy, but acceptable.
“Maybe. And you'd have a full head of hair.” Jack grins, turning bright red. God, what he wouldn't do to see Gabe's natural hair right now.
Gabriel snorts, cupping Jack's face in his hands. The world seems to melt away, time standing still – they sway, foreheads pressed together. "Listen to me,” Gabriel murmurs, eyes boring into Jack's, “I know you probably didn't expect, you know...this.
He motions around before looking back at Jack, “I know you probably want a big wedding with the fancy shit. I'll make it up to you – we'll do this right, the moment we can.”
  A lump's starting to form in Jack's throat, “We don't need to. This is right.”
Tears prickle at the corner of his eyes – this is right. This is totally, perfectly, absolutely right.
“C'mon, save the waterworks for the end.” There's a warble in Gabe's voice that he can't hide.
  Dearly Beloved, we're gathered here today...
  - - -
  When the Reverend asks for the rings, Gabriel fishes a tiny box out of his pocket. He slips a silver band onto Jack's finger and that's when the real waterworks begin.
“Did you plan this?!” Jack demands, fighting back sobs. He feels like such a two year old right now and he could care less.
“No,” Gabe's eyes shimmer, “I've been carrying those around for a while.”
“You're a stupid man, Gabriel Reyes.” Jack cries, capturing Gabriel's lips with his own, “I would have said yes a long time ago.”
  - - -
  Jack can't stop looking at the band.
The curtains are open, a shaft of moonlight slinking into the room. The city glows and churns beneath them, feral and alive.
  A trail of clothes marks a path to the bed – his body aches, heat still thrumming in his belly. The all important consummation of the marriage has left him boneless.
  “I can't believe we did this.” Jack whispers. Gabe's eyes are closed, but he's listening, rubbing circles on Jack's lower belly, “Jack Reyes...I like the way that sounds.”
“Think you'll still tell everyone to call you Morrison?” Gabe rumbles.
“Yeah. Until we're ready to tell everyone.”
Gabriel makes a noise of agreement. Jack presses a kiss to Gabriel's jaw, their fingers locked together. There are love-bites all over Gabriel's neck and shoulders...they look good.
“What time do they need you again?”
“1930.”
“Good,” Gabriel bites down on the junction between Jack's neck and his shoulder, “Because you're not getting out of bed until 1929.”
Jack groans in delight, his toes curling into the sheets. They move together, the sheets soaked with sweat, the pillows and blankets tossed away. Skin to skin, heart to heart, it's hard to tell where one ends and the other begins.
They lay still, staring at one another.
  “I...I still don't understand.” He says, squeezing Gabe's hand, “Why me?” The nagging doubt raises his head once again.
There's a pause. Gabe raises their hands up above their bodies, studying the way their fingers twine together.
  “Because I love you. No matter what we fight about, no matter how many times we fight – I love you. Always will.”
Their bands shimmer in the dim light in the room.
“You know, we still have to look for that house.”
Jack laughs.
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frontproofmedia · 4 years
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The Career of Roy Jones Jr.
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By Mike Hills | Contributing Writer
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Published: January 23, 2020
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So the once incredible Roy Jones Jr. (66-9, 47 KOs) has finally retired. I'm not a person that lives in the past and do not believe that anyone from the 1920s or 1930s were the greatest of all time. I'm not of a fixed view that only fighters of those eras can be great. I admit there were some stellar fighters from those days, yet I can also appreciate and celebrate modern fighters from this era.
There's not a great deal of video footage from the 1920s, 30s, 40s, 50s, etc., yet modern-day fighters are held under a microscope of criticism. Look at current fan websites that bring up modern fighters, and the fans will attack each other. Opposing fans will claim their favorite fighter from the 1970s would have destroyed the fan-favorite from 2019. I know because I've been online and have been subjected to written abuse. It's not a pleasant experience to be attacked by passionate boxing fans. Some of the language is repugnant and extremely nasty. The modern-day phrase for these people is "Keyboard Warriors.” This is my premier blog, and I'm hoping that fans will read my blogs with an open mind. It's perfectly ok to have a different opinion to me, and it's fine to speak your opinion without the nastiness that is all too common on display.
Roy Jones' career is a rollercoaster of a career, from incredible highs to sickening lows. Roy was his own man throughout his career. These are my opinions; it doesn't mean I'm correct; my views may clash with your views. Take a journey with me as I dissect Roy’s career.
As an amateur, Roy had a very respectable record. He boxed in the 1988 Olympics in Seoul. Jones advanced to the semi-final, where he met future professional world champion, Richie Woodhall. Roy beat Woodhall on points and progressed to the Olympic final. I remember these games because of Roy's sublime skillset. He looked set for Gold at light-middleweight. Yet, the judges awarded the Gold to Roy's South Korean opponent. The backlash from such a bizarre decision was an extreme low for Roy. Here was probably the best amateur, pound 4 pound, and he was denied his rightful glory. What happened after the decision was announced is for another blog. Jones was awarded the Val Barker trophy for the outstanding boxer of the Games, small compensation for not taking home the Gold Medal he rightly deserved. Not long after this travesty, amateur boxing moved to the computer scoring system. Again, this is for another blog.
Jones turned professional and soon moved through the ranks, he turned professional as a light-middleweight but moved to the Blue-ribboned Middleweight division. Roy beat some solid opponents on the way to fighting for the title. People like Ricky Stackhouse were blown away in a round. Ex-Champ Jorge Vaca also lost in a round.
On May 22, 1993, Roy Jones outsped and out skilled future Hall of Fame champion Bernard Hopkins. From this point, onwards Hopkins and Jones verbally sparred on a regular basis. Roy next moved through the underrated Sugar Boy Malinga (I had seen live Malinga dominate Nigel Benn and be denied the decision in their first bought.), and the excellent Thomas Tate.
Not staying long at middleweight Roy bamboozled James "Light-out" Toney. This is one of Roy's greatest wins at Super-middleweight. To have Hopkins, Toney, Malinga, and Tate on my record would have been enough for me, but then again, I'm not Roy Jones Junior.  Byrd, Pazienza, Thornton, Sosa, Lucas, Brannon, and the incredible Michael McCallum were several of the fighters that caused Roy's contemporaries in the UK problems. People like Nigel Benn, Michael Watson, Chris Eubank, Errol Christie, Stevie Collins, Robin Reid, and Herol Graham had struggled and sometimes lost to these Jones' victims. Yet Roy seemed to be playing with them in the ring as he showcased his unmatched natural talents. Roy, at this point in his career, was special. I'd seen England premier middleweights box a bunch of times, i.e., Benn, Watson, Eubank, Pyatt, Collins, etc. I can speak first hand on how good these middleweights were, yet they still couldn't match Roy Jones. I remember Nigel Benn defended his world title, and the interviewer said that Roy Jones was the No. 1 super middleweight. Benn and I'm paraphrasing, said something to the tune of, "If I have to take second place to Roy Jones, then that's ok in my book." 
Roy next met a roadblock in the form of Montell Griffin. I'd been in LA and seen Montel beat the excellent Ray Lathon. Montell was an awkward and dangerous fighter, and since Roy was now boxing at light-heavy (he beat Michael McCallum for the vacant WBC light heavy title), I thought Montell was going to be naturally bigger and stronger than Roy. Did I think Roy would lose to Montell? No, but after sitting ringside watching Montell in LA, I was becoming a fan. I thought Roy would spoil his way to a points win. Montell proved to be so awkward and strong that Roy became frustrated. He knocked Griffin to the floor and sadly delivered a KO blow while Montel was taking a knee. Roy was disqualified, and now his record was blemished.
How do you rectify such a blemish? You come out in the rematch and blast your opponent away in the very first round, yup Roy Jones was upset, and Montell needed to pay the price. 
Roy stayed at light-heavy and set out decimating an entire division. Next on Jones' shopping list was the Hall of Fame champion Virgil Hill. Hill was an excellent fighter, look up his fight resume, you'll be impressed. Jones hit Hill in the ribs, smashing his ribs and leaving this great champion writhing on the floor in agony. Had Jones stepped away from the sport at this point, we'd be celebrating his talents. Jones decided to continue and beat other talented fighters like Lou Del Valle, Otis Grant, Richard Frazier, Reggie Johnson, David Telesco, Richard Hall, Eric Harding, Derrick Harmon, and Julio Cesar Gonzalez. 
Next came the Glen Kelly fight; I was living in Aspen, Colorado, at this point, so far away from the hubs of boxing. I'd tried following boxing and had been to shows in Denver, but lived 200+ miles away. Getting too and from Denver from Aspen was a long, dangerous drive over snowy passes. I'd been to Colorado Springs to see the USA championships courtesy of Ian Fried and Everlast Boxing. Shawn Porter stood out, yet I felt he needed to drop down from middleweight to welterweight. Thankfully he did this; check out Shawn's amateur wins, very impressive. Smitty from Denver asked me to join the Colorado Boxing Commission, and I considered it, yet I couldn't justify the drive. I now sought my boxing via HBO, ESPN, and Showtime. I believe the Glen Kelly fight was Roy’s last great performance at light-heavy. Roy confused and embarrassed this proud Australian fighter. The fight ended with Roy voluntarily moving to the ropes with his hands behind his back, and in a theatrical moved pounded out this ungainly position to knock Glen out. 
I remember Roy giving an interview before he fought England's teak-tough and future world champion Clinton Woods. To me, he looked old and drained facially. In the ring, Roy was still Roy, yet I felt he had skipped a step. Did I imagine this, or was my fear legit? Roy won in the 6th, my fears disproved.
Next, Roy moved up to heavyweight to take on the awkward heavyweight champion, John "The Quiet Man' Ruiz. I never felt Roy was a fully-fledged true light-heavy, he often seemed undersized. I believed 100% in Roy, yet I couldn't see how he was going to beat Ruiz. We all have our favorites, mine were Mike Tyson, Michael Watson, Pat Barrett, and Paul Hodkinson, yet Roy was something close to being a mythical unicorn for me. I had never seen anything like it. I remember being the guest of HBO and going to see Naseem Hamed a bunch of times and thinking, "There's no person at featherweight that can beat this man." I felt the same for Roy Jones and have only felt this twice before with Jones and Hamed (and maybe Tyson for two years). Yet surely Jones can't last with a heavyweight. Jones did survive and put on a boxing masterclass. It was not the most exciting of fights; those exciting fighters were Gatti, Ward, Benn, Julian Jackson, et al. This was something else. This was one of the most unique moments in boxing. Look back at your mental Rolodex and think of a time where this achievement is trumped? I can't. 
Imagine if Roy Jones had retired after the Ruiz win, where would he rank? He'd be mythical in 2019. We'd be lauding over Roy still today and quite rightly so. He'd reached his peak, and it was a heck of a peak. YET, and in boxing, there's always a YET, he continued. He moved back down to fight the excellent Antonio Tarver and barely sneaked past. Next came the unimaginable Roy lost; not only did he lose, but he was also knocked out by one punch in the second round of a rematch with Tarver. Tarver had taunted Jones during the referee's instructions, that must have been a tough pill to swallow. 
Next up was the solid if unspectacular Glen Johnson. Surely Jones can't lose to this man. Sadly, Jones was lackluster and lost to one of those sickening kos where you wonder if he's ever going to gain consciousness. 
Roy lost on points in his next match to his tormentor Antonio Tarver. He did manage to salvage a few wins, but quite clearly, he wasn't the Roy Jones of old, and he wasn't true world-class anymore.
He moved up to cruiserweight and was again knocked cold by the tough Aussie Danny Green. How can he be losing rounds, never mind matches to these boxers?
Roy signed to fight Bernard Hopkins. I had landed in Denver from New York, having returned from a Lou Dibella Broadway Boxing Show in New York with my friend, Harold Lederman. I decided to see the fight at a local cinema. Thankfully Bernard didn't hurt Roy too much, and Roy survived to hear the final bell.
Roy next took on world-class cruiserweight Denis Lebedev in Russia. Once again, Roy was spectacularly knocked out. After this, I gave up watching Roy, so I missed him being embarrassed by the hard-punching Enzo Maccarinelli.
When he FINALLY said he was hanging up his gloves with a hometown fight against Scott Sigmon, I did consider flying to Florida and witnessing the master exit the ring.  However, I'd sadly supported Roberto Duran's last ever fight against Hector Camacho. I wasn't going to support Roy being in the ring any longer.
To me and in my lifetime Roy Jones is the greatest fighter ever to step foot in the ring. This is not to take away from the two Sugar Rays; they were the greatest of their eras. The original Sugar Ray can't be compared either. Sadly, just like a shot Mike Tyson, Roy tarnished his legacy beyond repair. Missteps from fighters of bygone eras get pushed under the carpet, yet today that's not possible. Every minute of Roy's career is immediately available online for anyone to watch.
Where would you put Roy Jones in the mythical greatest of all time? Do you still rate him highly, or do you consider him a flawed maverick? Can you accept the incredible peak career highs and ignore the scary lows. I hated seeing an elite athlete lying unconscious on the floor for prolonged periods. Most champions box on for way too long, look at Ali, Tyson, Leonard, Robinson, Holyfield, etc. rarely do they escape without embarrassing losses, yet how often do we see them lying unconscious without moving for many disturbing minutes? I am prepared to ignore the late-career losses of Roy Jones. I still rate him the greatest I’ve seen.
(Featured Photo: Getty Images)
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Patterns at large are one particularly useful tool when you want to add some zest to an otherwise dreary day. Temper proudly gives you this “plaided” post by guest author and Blogger Extraordinaire Jenn Su of The JStyle. Either check in or check out!
With so many fashionable men and women roaming the streets of China, there is no need to flip through any fashion-mag checklist to find out what’s trending in Style World. So who and what is that “you” I mentioned in the title of this post?
The answer to that question is “plaid”; one stylish phenomenon that you cannot not see when out and about on your daily dashings. Though we admittedly tend to rake up the myriad of patterns under the generalized “plaid” denominator, fashion exhibits a plethora of patterns to pick and choose from… Each and every one of them representing or delivering an entirely different feel.
Now, let’s go through that checklist!
From clan to safety pin man, Tartan in the 1980s had become a hallmark of the era’s street punk vibes.
Tartan
Tartan
Tartan, aka the most familiar one of them all. The tartan plaid originates from Scotland and throughout signified the wearer’s aristocratic or royal lineage. The clans each bore their own checkered pattern to set themselves apart from one another – style statements avant la lettre. Tartan was also used to differentiate between the various stars and stripes among soldiers. Nevertheless, and perhaps befittingly so, Tartan in the 1980s became a hallmark of the era’s street punk vibes. Either way, when you aim for that “God Save The Queen” look, both in the royal and punk sense, “Tartan” is your clan.
Windowpane
Windowpane
Windowpane. The Windowpane check is a very modern one and, in going by the letter, the look resembles that of … well, a real-life countryside windowpane. This particular type of plaid is very simple, usually made up of two colors and crossing lines. Windowpane plaid best expresses the style of the modern woman: Urban and elegant.
Tattersall
Tattersall
Tattersall often makes its noticeable appearance on men’s shirts. Resembling its windowpane brother, the tattersall’s check is one of slightly more complicated descent, usually formed by lines of two colors creating smaller plaids than they do on its windowpane sibling. This kind of pattern gives off that old-school gentleman feel, sending a formal yet simultaneously casual message. Yes, it’s highly contradictory, but that is what fashion is all about, after all! Things never make sense; nor should they. Anyway, if you want to opt for that cheeky tomboy style, Tattersall is your man!
The Gingham pattern has become a big thing with fashion lovers walking the streets of China’s first- and second-tier cities.
Gingham style
Gingham
Before anything else, when you see this pattern, images of “A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte”, or just a simple table cloth, spring to mind. But bear with us! Gingham has become much more of a style player than a mere table decoration! The pattern has become a big thing with fashion lovers walking the streets of China’s first- and second-tier cities. What’s more, when this medium-weight balanced plain-woven fabric first made its way into Europe several hundred years ago, it wasn’t plaid; in fact, it was one big stripy fash fest. As time went by, the print in the 18th Century evolved into plaids. Because Gingham was a woven one, it was often used as test fabric for fashion designers to physically sculpt their creative notions. Moving on to the 1960s, then, Gingham became a legit trendsetter among the Mod scene. The trend only continued to grow throughout the era, especially after French bombshell icon Brigette Bardot was spotted wearing a Gingham-marked dress at her wedding. So before one snickers at those who wear Gingham… Baby, think twice! It’s history in motion.
Houndstooth — what’s in a name.
Houndstooth
I think lightbulbs are beaming all around with this one! What’s in a name, one might ask. The print does in fact have something to do with its K9-sounding name as it was allegedly inspired by the uneven shape of a hound dog’s teeth. Nevertheless, the patterns in reality consists of broken checks or abstract four-pointed shapes. Houndstooth often comes in black and white, but every now and then appears in different colors and shades as well. This plaid finds its roots in 19th Century Scotland where it was originally worn as an outer garment of woven wool cloth by shepherds. Thank you, WikiFashion. Houndstooth firmly planted its footprint into the fashion field after Christian Dior himself used the print to decorate a pair of shoes back in 1959. Houndstooth exudes a sense of elegance and is often used on coats and their outerwear family members.
One particular Duke of Windsor (aka Edward VIII aka husband to style maven Wallis Simpson) could boast a unique taste of style and was particularly into plaid. Glen plaid, mind you.
Glen Plaid prints in the 1930s received the royal seal of approval.
Glen Plaid
Glen plaid is formed by different sizes of checks and is usually based on muted colors such as grey, white and black — with a bit of red woven in. This plaid was born in the 19th Century, supported by the penchant for plaid hailing from Britain’s upper class. The earliest iconic figure to bring Glen to the top of the fashion charts, was the Duke of Windsor (we’re talking 1930s here). This particular Duke of Windsor (aka Edward VIII aka husband to style maven Wallis Simpson) had a unique taste of style and was particularly into plaids. Subsequently, under his demonstrations, people became drawn to the print which eventually would go down in history as the “Prince of Wales check”. Until this very day, the Glen plaid continues to take a royal stance and is often seen on suits. Oh ye timeless elegance of days long gone… Return to us, we beg of one!
  Feeling a little dizzy and numb after taking in all this new information, are ya? There truly are many different kinds of plaid patterns floating around the textile scene– and then those plaids you assumed to be one and the same upon first gaze turn out to be cousins of different last names. We know, we know… It’s a “WHAT DA?!” fashion universe out there! 
Take your time to digest these freshly printed updates and, in the meantime, take a look at some inspirational street snaps of how China’s fashionistas are putting their plaids to play!
Fashionista plaids roam the streets of China!
  When all is said and done… Whether it’s menswear or womenswear, if you don’t want to be left so far behind that you can’t even see the fading taillights of fashion anymore… Go get yourself “plaided”. Check!
                          Written by Jenn Su of The Jstyle for Temper Magazine 2017. All rights reserved
Edited by Elsbeth van Paridon for Temper Magazine
About Jenn Su and The JStyle:  Jennifer S. is a freelance fashion stylist and wardrobe consultant since 2012. As a fashion stylist, her works spread through TVC, commercial, fashion brands, editorial, still life and celebrities/public figures. As a wardrobe consultant her service includes seasonal wardrobe consulting (personal shopper, wardrobe management, wardrobe album) and occasional wardrobe consulting (head to toe fashion styling for the occasion/event). Jennifer was one of the few selected stylists accepted to attend the ‘Fashion Styling’ program by Conde Nast Center in 2016.
Find out more on Weibo: The_Jstyle; WeChat: @thejstyle and Instagram: @itsjstyle !
All images come courtesy of Haibao/ Gofaner/ That’s It Mag
    Copyright@Temper Magazine, 2017. All rights reserved.
              Guest author Jenn Su of The Jstyle puts plaids to play! Patterns at large are one particularly useful tool when you want to add some zest to an otherwise dreary day.
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ঠিক যেন রূপকথা
                                                           - By Saswata Barman
…And the Winner is “Rupkatha (রূপকথা)”, announces the anchor!! [Applauses all around the BFI theatre]
Sugato’s first Bengali film has won the ‘Best Foreign Film’ award in the British Film Institute [BFI] International Festival! Amongst the rousing applause, Sugato’s mind wanders away to Kolkata, his Grand-parents’ home, the streets of Kolkata, Rabindra Sarobar, the park, lake, that conversation…… He wonders whether that was a dream or this is!!
[Almost a year back]
Sugato is not enjoying his work anymore. He has delivered many projects year-on- year for 10 years now but this is getting monotonous. He has shared this with his manager who has advised him to take a break. Sugato decides to visit his Grandparents in Kolkata, where he spent the first few of his growing years. Sugato’s Grandfather was an Engineer with the Public Works Department and since his retirement has been engaged in multiple activities including running an amateur club on short film making. His Grandmother is a retired School Principal and he remembers how she introduced him to the world of books – fiction, travelogue, puzzles and what not. Sugato’s Grandparents live near Rabindra Sarobar. He still remembers when he used to go to the lakeside for a walk with his Grandfather and spot the migratory birds!
[Day 7 of Sugato’s trip]
Since he came here in Kolkata, Sugato has spent the entire week catching up with his relatives, childhood friends from the school before his father shifted to London. Today, after waking up in the morning, he thought he needs to relax at home only and what better than reading some books from his Grandmother’s mini library in the third floor! After having breakfast, he walked up to the third floor where all the books are stored in a room in huge bookshelves alongside the walls. There is an arm chair in the middle of the room. Sugato picked a couple of books on Bengali Cinema and started reading. “Wow”, he thought to himself, “I should have read more about this as - Cinema is the reflection of the society and its times”. He kept reading and got completely hooked on to the book…….
There was a noise from downstairs; his Grandfather was going to the lakeside for a stroll and was asking if Sugato wants to join as well. Sugato replied back “আসছি … আমিও যাব”. Sugato’s Grandfather was a strict disciplinarian and asked him to get ready and join him in the lake side near the ঠাকুরদের Gallery.
Sugato reaches the lakeside and can not find his Grandfather. He walks up to the lake and sits on a vacant bench by its side. The childhood strolls around the lake started floating in front of his eyes. He was replaying his childhood and deep into his thoughts.
Suddenly, there was a voice “আমি কি এখানে বসতে পারি?”. Sugato turns his head around and sees this elderly man, probably an octogenarian like his Grandfather.
He says “হ্যাঁ অবশ্যই”.
Elderly Man – “Where do you live?”
Sugato – “I live near the Menoka cinema. Well actually it is where my দাদু and ঠাকুরমা lives. I live in London and have come to visit them.”
Elderly Man – “Oh I see. [pauses for a moment] If you do not mind, what is your grandfather’s name?”
Sugato – “His name is Apurbo Chakraborty. He was a Chief Engineer in the P….” [The Elderly man starts speaking]
Elderly Man – “I know Apurbo very well. He runs this Club for Short film making and I am a big fan of his club. He has inspired so many people to get into film making. I wish we had more people like him” [sighs]
Sugato – “Are you a member of that club as well?”
Elderly Man – [Looks at him] “No I am not, but I have visited his workshop once. I, however appreciate his efforts a lot. It is high time that people start nourishing the rich heritage of Bengali film-making and take it to newer heights!”
Sugato – “It’s a coincidence that I was reading the History of Bengali Cinema collected from the Archive of the Centre for Studies in Social Sciences, this afternoon.”
Elderly Man – “Do you want to know about the beginning of the industry – the Tolly industry as they say these days?”
Sugato - [Sounds excited] “Yes sure! That will be my pleasure.”
Elderly Man – “Bengali cinema had its presence in the last decade of the 19th century. The first cinema shows in Bengal date back to 1896-7. This was around the time when Lumiere Brothers’ Cinematographe in Bombay did the first Cinema show in July 1896. Hiralal Sen of Royal Bioscope company in Calcutta started making short films from around 1900. Cinema in Bengal around that time revolved mostly around the silent films and slowly the talkies were evolving. They were very much at par, if not better than the films being made in Bombay. Over the years, the gap increased in favour of the Bombay industry but Bengal has gifted India and the world some of the finest actors and directors.”
Sugato – “Wow, so which was the first Bengali film?”
Elderly Man – “The first Bengali-language film was the silent feature Billwamangal, produced by the Madan Theatre Company of Calcutta. This was based on the play written by Urdu playwright Agha Hashr Kashmiri. The movie released in November 1919, six years after the first full-length Indian feature film, Raja Harish Chandra, was released. The first Bengali talkies Jamai Shashti, however released on 11th April 1931 at Crown Cinema Hall in Calcutta as a short movie. The first Bengali talkies as a full-length feature film was, Dena Paona, which released on 30th December 1931 at Chitra Cinema Hall in Calcutta. Madan Theatre was a giant film corporation in Calcutta. It was the numero-uno in silent film distribution and many cinema theatres across the subcontinent. Then came Birendranath Sircar’s New Theatres Ltd., established in 1930 and went on to make landmark films in Bengal and Indian film industry like Pramatesh Barua’s Debdas in1935 and Mukti in 1937, Nitin Bose’s President in 1937, to name a few. The studio created star singers like Kananbala and K.L. Saigal.
I hope you are not getting bored?” [Asked the man to Sugato]
Sugato – “No, Not at all. Please carry on.”
Elderly Man – “New Theatres also gave us acting stars like Pahari Sanyal who became well known for their character roles upto the 50’s. The New Theatre also started the practice of remakes in those days as they started double versions of its films, in Bengali and Hindi-Urdu. This gave them a Pan-India market and reach. Another well-known director who was a product of New Theatres was Bimal Roy, a renowned Director in the 50’s who made films like Udayer Pathe that went on to be remade into one of the most popular Hindi films – Humrahi. The 1950’s also gave Bengali cinema two if its biggest stars of all times – Uttam Kumar and Suchitra Sen. The golden years of the 50’s also saw an important film being made that was celebrated much later. Satyajit Ray’s Pather Panchali which released in 1955 and won “Best Human Document” at the 1956 Cannes Film Festival. He went onto make a trilogy and Apur Sansar, the third film of Ray’s Apu trilogy, which had a ‘silver jubilee’ in Calcutta. Apur Sansar introduced Soumitra Chatterjee, who along with Uttam Kumar became Bengali cinema’s top male star and continues to inspire through his movies and theatre shows till today.”
Sugato – “I have heard my grandpa speak about Mrinal Sen….”
Elderly Man – “Yes there was him and Ritwick Ghatak, both Satyajit Ray’s contemporary. Ritwick Ghatak introduced a brand new form of Bengali cinema, that made political statements of their times. Mrinal Sen carried forward the picturisation of social unrest and radical politics of his times. Sen’s Akaler Sandhane in which a film crew recreates the 1943 Bengal famine, won the Silver Bear at Berlin in 1981. Satyajit Ray received an Oscar for his lifetime’s work days before his death in 1992, marking the end of an era. The ‘90s also saw the rise of a Director- Rituparno Ghosh. His films resulted in the Bengali middle class returning to movie halls. In the last 10 years or so, film making has become much matured in Bengal. Directors like Srijit Mukherjee, Atanu Ghosh, Kamaleshwar Mukherjee and many others are making their own brand of movies. But still, there is a lot to be done….”
Sugato – “A lot to be done? What do you mean?”
Elderly Man – “Bengali cinema has lot to offer to the world. The language of cinema is universal and its high time good Bengali films reach to the world audience. Bengalis in general like quality cinema with good storylines but at the same time Bengali film makers sometimes underplay their brilliant work. There should be a common endeavour in this industry to take strength from its glorious history and take the next step forward to make Bengali movies a global phenomenon”
[A voice is heard from an elderly woman]
“Sugato wake up now, it’s time for lunch; take your bath and come down, your Grandpa has returned from his stroll as well”
Sugato stares at the door and hears his Grandpa say “Why did not he come to the lake side as he said…..?”. He looks down at the book in his hands. He has almost finished the book and is on a page that says “50’s – 70’s - the era of Satyajit Ray”……
Sugato has made up his mind. He wants to make a Bengali film and take it to the global audience. He will ever remain indebted to the man, who had this inspiring conversation with him. He said to himself – “ঠিক যেন রূপকথা”!
N.B:
The endeavor to take Bengali Cinema to the Global audience is a reality unlike the fiction above. Storyline Movies was created in Dec 2016 by six Bengalis coming from different walks of life. Led by Acclaimed Director Atanu Ghosh of Abby Sen, Angshumaner Chobi’s fame, the aim of the production house is to make Bengali movies with quality storylines and release them in different languages worldwide. Our first venture is 72 Ghanta directed by Atanu Ghosh and includes actors like Soumitra Chatterjee, Abir Chatterjee, Paran Bandopadhyay, Indrani Halder and many more. To know more and help us with this endeavor please connect with us @
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Website – http://www.storylinemovies.com
Source of Reference on History of Bengali Cinema - Bengali Cinema: 'An Other Nation' by Sharmishtha Gooptu; published by Routledge.
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