#she just doesn’t get it like i do (she hates found footage movies) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chocolatemilk139 · 2 years

Text

the do or die part

reader x mingyu

summary: There are only a few things Actor Kim Mingyu really has to worry about: 1. Making sure Soonyoung doesn’t murder the writer with a set prop 2. Making sure his manager doesn’t murder HIM with a set prop 3. Making sure a serial killer doesn’t murder them all. Seungcheol would argue it’s highly unlikely he’ll ever cross a serial killer, ever, but the FBI’s crime stats would beg to differ. He could prove it with the right book research. He’s definitely going to the bookstore every day instead of memorizing lines for research purposes only and NOT because he wants to kiss the owner. Definitely not that.

genre: fluff, barely-there-angst, actor au, non idol au, bookstores, mingyu being great at acting but terrible at flirting

warnings: no actual serial killer, tiny angst?, mingyu probably needs a therapist (but he’s okay guys), fear of heights

word count: 16.2k

a/n: hi! Accidentally found this sitting in my docs half-finished and decided to gift it to my bff for her birthday! Told from Mingyu’s perspective because it was a little too fun to write that way. Anyways I hope you enjoy reading this mess <3

——————

don’t read the last page (i want your midnights)

Of all the places to film a romcom they chose the one seaside town without a consistent weather pattern, right next to the sea but not the beach, and filled with those small town personalities that despise anything that causes a disturbance to their generations of peace and quiet. What else could be more of a disturbance than having a 300 person crew park their lives in your town for a whole month of filming and take up the one usable paved road for 12 hours of filming what would only be about 30 minutes of usable footage. Mingyu would hate himself if the roles were reversed. It’s why he doesn’t do anything but smile and apologize again (in that really small voice he shrinks into frequently) when the barista gives him nothing but a glare of murderous intent after he knocks over the tip jar in an attempt to take his latte. He wonders if she would appreciate him handing her a list of tips to get away with his murder (complete with his hotel room number for easy access). He’s listened to enough CrimeJunkies to be confident he could come up with a pretty foolproof plan. Seungcheol would say something like that is just another side effect of the Self-Sacrificing Kim Mingyu Need to Throw Himself Off a Cliff to Get People to Like Him. What’s wrong with seeking approval, hyung? He’s an actor for a reason, for God’s sake.

“And you probably only became an actor for that reason,” Soonyoung points out. Mingyu throws the straw wrapper (paper straw, because he’s not some monster) at his face because even if it’s mostly true, he doesn’t need his lifelong leech of a best friend to point it out.

“All I want is to be in a movie with some crime and a serial killer,” Mingyu sighs (half of what Soonyoung says doesn’t deign a proper response), “Is that too much to ask?”

“Apparently,” Soonyoung snorts. “Why don’t you plan something useful like how to murder Mr. Jeon?”

“It’s not his fault really,” Mingyu says, immediately on the defensive, “he’s just the writer, he doesn’t have a huge say on who they hire for the movie.” It’s not entirely true, but he knew that sucking up to Wonwoo maybe wasn’t the best shot at getting cast for his new (CRIME!) piece he’s working on. Wonwoo is still nice though, buys Mingyu’s morning coffee to replace the original one he inevitably spills and/or loses, and he’s still working on something he’s written. A Korean-American romcom, of course, painfully devoid of serial killers. He should be thankful to be the second male lead, he can finally add in another donation.

Soonyoung lets out a long, exasperated sigh (as he’s wont to do with any mention of Jeon Wonwoo, Wonwoo Jeon whatsoever). “Fine, fine, if you want to defend that scumbag of a man I won’t stop you. But if he even speaks to me after living off your cooking for two months and still not giving you that role I promise to take a knife–”

Mingyu immediately shoves the bagel into Soonyoung’s mouth. “If you say any more I no longer have deniability in court.”

In between coughing and glaring at Mingyu he rolls his eyes.

. . .

They wind up back at set, inevitably, because there is no such thing as a real break. Unless you are Jeonghan. He finds him sleeping in a foldable chair behind one of the food trucks that Leigh ordered. His female co-star is in the middle of some familial drama scene between her and her mother (he can hear the shouting across the street which he assumes is the goal). If anything this is less a romcom than an exploration of the Korean American woman’s identity from the point of view of an aspiring lawyer in a small town. But it’s easier to say romcom.

Mingyu shoves Jeonghan’s shoulder lightly to wake him and is faced with the groggy glare of his manager.

“Is someone dying?” he asks gruffly. Mingyu merely smiles.

“No, but the director said I have to be ready to go in thirty minutes for the next scene,” he says lightly.

“Did you read your lines?” Jeonghan asks, eyes already fluttering shut. Mingyu hums. “Okay, well, you are a big boy, you can find your way to the makeup and hair trailer,” he replies, patting Mingyu’s knee softly before leaning back further into his chair. Mingyu huffs but leaves him be. Logically he could hire a more…enthusiastic manager, but at this point it would be a waste. And he can’t exactly say he doesn’t mind someone not controlling every aspect of his life. Jeonghan said he used to work for a kpop group in Seoul before they disbanded and it was the worst, most stressful six months of his life. Somehow that translated to him becoming the most lackadaisical manager Mingyu had ever met. Still, he gets the contracts signed and somewhere underneath his disinterested persona, Mingyu knows he genuinely cares. Somehow.

Dokyeom and Minghao are already in the trailer with brushes in their hands when Mingyu knocks. Minghao pulls him into the chair with a “You’re late,” and Dokyeom moves over to the clothes rack, shifting through the shirts.

“Nice to see you guys too,” Mingyu sing-songs.

“Hi,” Minghao scowls. “DK, hand me the one with 43 on the side.”

“What’s this scene, again?” Dokyeom asks even as he hands one of the palettes to Minghao.

“Taking Lee and her grandma out for lunch,” Mingyu offers with a grin.

Minghao snorts. “You’re lucky you are supposed to look like a borderline farmhand half the time. Does your character even have a solid job?”

“Uh, resident handyman?”

“Anything that gives him an excuse to take off his shirt,” Minghao says, then, “Get him the blue flannel.”

Dokyeom holds it up from the rack and Mingyu catches a glimpse in the mirror. “Oo, can I–”

Minghao cuts him off with a brush to his throat. “If you don’t hand that to me within thirty seconds after the director ends scene I will skewer you.”

Mingyu merely grins and nods, compliant as always. Dokyeom laments the great fall of the cashmere sweater of ’21 to Mingyu’s turkey sandwich. When he’s free to go (when they can hear Director Han screaming his name across set) he manages to knock over the bucket of brushes on one of the counters and bends to help them pick it up. Minghao waves him and his apologies off with a reassuring smile and a snide remark about how he can’t let Mingyu get yelled at again, even if Director Han still loves him. He does memorize his lines the best.

. . .

have i known you 20 seconds (or 20 years?)

The next day he is off because, according to Director Han, Leigh wasn’t Tiffany Lee enough in the previous day’s footage and they needed to reshoot most of the family interactions. Needless to say, Leigh looked ready to murder someone over breakfast so Mingyu steered in the opposite direction to let Seungkwan (the actual male lead, the one Tiffany will end up with when the credits roll) handle that. Leigh seemed to like Seungkwan more than him anyways. He finds Soonyoung at the coffee shop again, sans most of the crew at this hour of the day. It didn’t stop the barista from sending death glares again.

Soonyoung already has a latte waiting for him and is ready to pounce before Mingyu manages to properly sit down.

“In the many hours I have had to myself, alone, as a stunt director in a movie that literally doesn’t have any stunts, I have stumbled upon a treasure trove–”

“Please don’t tell me you robbed a bank because you were bored.”

“--That holds all you may ever desire. Mainly books on really randomly specific topics.”

“Please don’t tell me they have a tiger section.”

Soonyoung’s grin turns practically feral. “Oh but they do!” he giggles. Then he pauses for a minute to add, “But they also have a whole section for true crime psychopath stuff you have an unnatural obsession with.”

Mingyu already has his wallet in his hands when he grabs Soonyoung’s arm to drag him out of the cafe. “Let’s go.”

. . .

Soonyoung babbles as he leads them down a few side streets that are too close for anything besides pedestrian traffic, and largely devoid of pedestrians at this time of day. The townspeople seem to really be leaning into this “avoiding outsiders as much as possible” gig. Or maybe they don’t have many errands to run at 10:40 on a Tuesday at a…hardware store…a fish place?...and a bookstore.

He only knows it’s a bookstore because 1. Soonyoung stops abruptly and spreads his arms out proudly declaring “This is the bookstore!” and 2. The small glimpse he gets of the front windows only shows even, carefully stacked and lined colorful book spines. It makes him practically giddy, with this little anticipation tingling the bottom of his feet and he hasn’t even stepped inside yet. The sign above it reads 105 North Tower and he’s sure it’s one of those insignificant literary references that Seungcheol would berate him for not catching. He should take him here sometime.

“It’s so quaint,” he hears himself gush. He means it as the highest compliment.

Soonyoung rolls his eyes and drags him through the front door (it has a goddamned bell!) and Mingyu is so distracted practically swirling around, looking at all the shelves, with their variations in color. There’s a system here, and most shelves have pretty little calligraphy signs of different topics. It’s not chaotic like most small bookstores–there’s a meticulous air to everything–but Mingyu absolutely adores it.

“You’re back,” an unfamiliar voice says and Mingyu startledly swings to see someone behind the counter. They are the only one in the shop–apparently the owner (they are always the owners in this small of a town). They don’t have the customer service smile, in fact, they look pretty unapproachable (like most people in this town) but not entirely unkind. They are pretty, shorter than him (but so is everyone else) and have this baseball cap on and gray cardigan and the same meticulous put-togetherness of the rest of the shop.

“Yeah, I brought my friend here,” Soonyoung says cheerily. If Mingyu knows him he probably spent all of yesterday chatting up the owner-bookkeeper, establishing some sort of friendship even if it was one-sided. The bookkeeper hums, glances at Mingyu (who tried to give his friendliest smile) and returns to the book with some level of disinterest. “Let me know if you need anything,” they say, looking back down. Mingyu mentally runs through the list of things Seungcheol liked to drill into him, like how it probably had nothing to do with them disliking Mingyu personally after seeing him for 2.5 seconds, and you should always read the best possible interpretation of someone’s actions. He swears Seungcheol learned that from some teaching module, but it works so he sticks to it.

“Don’t break anything,” Soonyoung says, already tugging him through the aisles again. (Just who do his friends think he is? Some sort of robot dog on wheels they can drag anywhere they like? A short montage burst of every time he lets them get away with it flashes through his mind as the answer.)

“I’m not gonna break anything,” he protests, trying to read the signs they pass as they go further to the back of the store. The calligraphy is gorgeous, and the font is altered on each one slightly to match the topic. It’s obvious they were done by hand in the “this is too meticulous and careful to have been done by anything but a full, feeling human heart” kind of way. Gardening has flowers blooming between the open spaces of the loops. Mystery’s letters are blockish with empty spaces contrasting with the black background. Caring for Dogs has its own section (“As it should,” Mingyu mutters) and the A and O have been turned into paw prints. Soonyoung drags them to the tiger section first and he admires the stripes the letters turn into with little orange accents. Soonyoung has already started pulling out a book that looks like just a bunch of Bengal tiger photos before he even bothers pointing Mingyu in the direction of those alleged books of interest.

The True Crime placard is stylized like the familiar TOP SECRET font complete with a little magnifying glass by the last E and it makes Mingyu laugh so much he snaps a picture. This section is far enough in the back corner to not have to mind how affronted the owner might seem at something like this. He wasn’t even really sure if the bookkeeper had made them herself or got someone else to. She didn’t seem like the type.

There were the staples of Ted Bundy and the Zodiac Killer (to be expected) but also some on the Hillside Strangler, the Austin Yogurt Shop Killer, and a whole series on the Green River Killer.

But there’s also Last Call by Elon Green and a whole shelf just on missing persons cases. It’s this one he settles on, and thumbs the spines until pulling out a couple to check the blurbs. He accumulates a stack and finally when his knees hurt he sees the bean bag against the wall. He carries his books and finally plops down, opening the first book on Alissa Turney. Distantly, he sets a mental reminder to call Devin and see how he’s doing these days.

Time seems sluggish in the way that in this corner it’s hard to tell if it’s moving or not. The twilight of not having anything to do and about to be called back to set. It passes, somehow, because eventually Soonyoung comes to find him and let him know he has to go back and approve some stunt equipment they are using for a night scene and (in his words) “make sure they don’t impale themselves on something metal.” Mingyu waves goodbye without looking up (they are already discussing possible perpetrators, he should have brought his notebook to trace out connections) before he remembers that he should probably thank his friend. He’s already gone by then.

A text from Jeonghan saying he bought dinner is what finally pulls him from the chair and up to the front desk, still clutching his stack of books. The bookkeeper is still there, except this time they’re busy clacking away at their desk computer. They still don’t look up until Mingyu sets the books down on the counter and clears his throat. Bookkeeper finally looks up with a borderline scowl. This close, Mingyu sees the way their short hair is tucked behind their ears and under the cap and when Bookkeeper raises an eyebrow, clearly disturbed, he can’t help but find them a bit cute. Mingyu must be going insane from the seawater.

“Hi,” he begins, almost squeakily. “I actually wanted to ask you a question. Or a favor really.”

Bookkeeper surveys him once again and lets out a barely imperceptible sigh. “Believe it or not the ‘I forgot my wallet’ excuse has been used before and it won’t work on me.”

Mingyu blinks at them once, twice, before it clicks and he practically guffaws. “Oh no, I have money! I usually forget my wallet but then Soonyoung started stealing it so I had to be more careful about that.” Bookkeeper looks unimpressed but Mingyu feels himself pressing onward. Or at least the words shoveling to the front of his mouth without a filter like basic human interaction protocol. He scrambles to pull out his wallet for proof. “But anyways,” he chuckles, “I was actually just thinking about if it might be possible for you to like, keep these books here? At the store? After I pay for them of course.”

“Like, hold them for you?” Bookkeeper offers skeptically.

“Yeah, you see,” Mingyu begins, “my manager kinda put me on a ban from reading—“

For once it seems to crack something like a smile on Bookkeeper’s face and there’s amusement in her voice when they repeat “A ban on reading?”

Mingyu is already blushing, he can feel it in the heat in his neck, because obviously there isn’t a moment of peace when he’s not embarrassing himself. “He thinks I get distracted easily with my true crime hobbies and I can’t be ‘in the right mindset’ for a romcom if I’m reading too much serial killer stuff, whatever that means.”

The silence falls between them again and it’s easy to slip back into overthinking, watching the way Bookkeeper taps their fingers on the edge of the counter silently thinking. The way they finally pauses and huffs out some air upwards with resignation and it’s so—

“I’ll keep them behind the counter,” they say in an even quieter voice and it makes Mingyu’s heart do weird things like beat irregularly (and he’s not even freaking out at the edge of a second floor balcony!) Bookkeeper is already picking up the first book and scanning it.

“Thank you so much,” Mingyu breathes out, “I honestly don’t know how to repay you. Except by, you know, paying for the books but also if you wanted to charge me for keeping them in your space you probably could and I wouldn’t really mind—“ The look the bookkeeper gives him shuts him up immediately and he grins before blurting out, “I’m Mingyu by the way!“

Bookkeeper (now he swears that’s not the correct title) looks up at him warily (or wearily, the expression was a toss up) and gives the slightest sigh. “Yn,” they say. Finally. Mingyu knows he’s beaming.

“Pretty,” he blurts out before realizing what he said and wanting to die. He has enough experience in this field to know how to cover though and immediately points to the one of the nearest bookshelf placards. “All the calligraphy signs and everything are really pretty, I mean. They look handmade. Did you do them?”

When he turns back there is something close to pink on Bookkeeper’s face and they clear their throat. “My brother did,” they say. Yn opens a drawer and pulls out some twine thread and Mingyu watches in adoration when they use it to tie around the stack of books, crossed on both sides and tied up at the top in a ribbon like a gift box. “It saves plastic bags,” Bookkeeper–Yn—says when they sees Mingyu staring. Mingyu merely nods. He can hear Soonyoung snorting in his head. Wow, is environmental consciousness hot now? Yes, quite frankly, Soonyoung. You wouldn’t know since you practically live off plastic utensils like a heathen.

There’s a beat of silence while Mingyu racks his head for whatever he was supposed to be doing. It’s slipped his mind completely.

“Don’t you have to be on set?” Yn asks, amusement slipping into their voice.

“How’d you know I worked on set?”

Yn laughs then, something loud and honest and God, I thought it couldn’t get worse but it just does. “You’re an idiot,” they say simply, but for some reason it doesn’t sting. It helps that he’s called that all the time. “Are you some random side character or what?”

Mingyu has an initial urge to lie and just go along with that before having a vivid flashforward montage of a series of misunderstandings that would lead to Yn inexplicably hating him. He opts for sheepish, rubbing his neck as he admits. “I’m actually one of the leads. Second lead. Not lead-lead.”

Yn snorts. “Makes sense.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Yn rolls their eyes and then nods to the phone in his hands. “Think you got a call there.”

Indeed, Jeonghan’s caller ID is glaring back up at him and he scrambles to pick it up. He’s already outside the door (the bell rang again!) before he remembers and opens the door again to stick his head through and yell a little unnecessarily, “Thank you so much, Yn!”

The Bookkeeper looks startled for a minute but before Mingyu turns around he catches a glimpse through the glass door of an amused smile even as she shakes her head. Mingyu counts it as a win.

“Yn? Who the heck is Yn?”

“Oh, Jeonghan hyung, I forgot you were there.”

“Why do you sound suspicious? What were you doing that you sound guilty for?”

Mingyu sends silent thanks that Jeonghan can’t see the red in his face now and channels every acting lesson into calming his voice. It’s excellent practice trying to deceive his manager, and nearly impossible. “Guilty?” he laughs, “I was just at a store, lounging around you know.”

“Uh huh, sure sure,” Jeonghan drawls on the other end of the line, “You better get back to this hotel room in less than three minutes. That’s the time limit on my self-restraint for not eating all this food myself. And also the time limit for when your brother will inevitably call and question how terrible I’m doing on a job he volunteered me for.”

“I’ll be right there!” Mingyu replies cheerfully, always heading down the little shortcut between buildings he had discovered in the town that purposefully goes around the current filming site. The one key to keeping a day off a day off was to make sure Director Han never saw your face. The “hotel” is more of an old mansion repurposed into some sort of pseudo hostel and most of the actors and directors from various sections fill up all the available rooms. The rest of the crew has to drive twenty minutes to and from the nearest Hilton each work day.

He greets Joshua and Jun, the owners at the front desk (who are kinder than most, but he assumes since they are also sleeping here every night they want to furnish hospitable relations), and then heads up the wide staircase to find his room. He has to open it with an actual key, not just a card, but he always insists that’s part of the character of the place.

Jeonghan has two pimple patches on his chin and a fork midway to his mouth when Mingyu opens the door. A quick scan assures him his manager has only made a slight dent, and there’s still enough for him to eat without being famished.

“Cheol’s on the line,” he huffs, motioning to the phone on the coffee table before continuing to shove his face with linguini.

“Hyung!” Mingyu greets cheerfully, plopping onto the couch beside Jeonghan. “How are you? How are your kids?”

“Still evil and devious little creatures,” Seungcheol laughs. “But they seem to be liking Hamlet, surprisingly. How is the filming? Is Jeonghan taking care of you?”

Jeonghan, at the mention of his name, grabs a slice of garlic bread and shoves it into Mingyu’s open mouth. Mingyu tries not to choke but assures his brother everything is fine when he catches his breath. “He’s the best manager in the whole world,” Mingyu says through a mouthful of the pasta, “absolutely nothing to worry about.”

“Good,” Seungcheol replies. “I’m going to try to visit one of these weekends since your set is only thirty minutes away. One of the weekends I’m not drowning in grades to submit.”

“Aw, you really don’t have to!”

Jeonghan snorts beside him. “It’s not for you. He found out that his favorite cinematographer is on this project.”

“Hey!”

“I’ll tell her you said hi,” Mingyu snickers.

“Hey! Mingyu!”

He hangs up the phone before his brother can say anything, and it earns a sound of amusement from Jeonghan.

“Ugh, why does filming take so long?” he groans, leaning back further into the couch.

“You’re not even the one doing the acting. All you do is sleep all day.”

Jeonghan ignores him. “Come be a manager for my little brother, he said. It will be fun, he said.”

“You could always quit and become a florist.”

Jeonghan makes a choking noise. “So who’s Yn?” he asks suddenly.

Mingyu brushes him off. “Just someone in town I was talking to.”

“Like ‘talking to’ or talking to?”

“Like they literally own a store and are legally required to speak to me so I can pay them money.”

“Aw. You should get out and date more, go find yourself a nice girl or guy. Let the paparazzi trail you,” Jeonghan says, “Your career is so squeaky clean and devoid of controversies it’s almost sickening.”

“Hyung, are you telling me to like, purposefully go out and have a scandal?” Mingyu sputters, “Aren’t you supposed to be telling me the opposite? As my manager?”

Jeonghan shrugs. “I was promised fun with this job. Nothing is fun right now.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes once more before getting up to throw away the trash. Jeonghan still hands him the script for tomorrow’s scenes (complete with highlights and notes) but is already under the covers of his own bed before Mingyu can get sappy and thank him. Drats, he knows him too well. Mingyu lets it go though, and turns off most of the lights before settling in his twin bed that smells like sea salt (the hotel went the full seaside-beach theme). He uses a small reading light shaped like a leaf that Soonyoung gave him for his birthday and in between memorizing formulates a little schedule of when he can escape the set to go visit the bookstore again. It’s for the actual books, he falls asleep telling himself.

. . .

the only thing we share (is this small town)

When he finally gets a chance to escape (he has to bribe Seungkwan with a bakery smuggle later that night if he swears he never saw him leave behind the trailers), he goes to the bookstore. Logically. He still paid for those books, it’s not too early to go back. There’s a moment he considers getting Soonyoung but he sees him on the verge of yelling in the Director’s face about safety protocol for this one scene where Tiffany climbs a tree. It’s better to abandon him than get caught up in a mess like that again.

The bell over the door is like a soundtrack to the slow motion movie that his life has become when Mingyu makes it to 105 North Tower just to have the breath knocked out of him. It must be the early morning light from the windows framing Yn’s face in just the right way, making them glow even though Yn probably would have still been pretty in a pitch black room (he needs to work on that metaphor). Or maybe it’s the fact that Yn has a large box in hand and they’re standing on a step stool unloading books because they’re too short to reach the top shelves. When Yn turns they throw a twisted type of unsure grin at Mingyu like they weren’t expecting him but are already thinking of a million ways to make fun of him. Or torture him. All of this is a bit convoluted for his heart’s health. The scowl Yn quickly recovers isn’t enough to hide the fact that they were smiling when they first spotted Mingyu. Mingyu should know; he has 20/20 vision.

“Hi Yn,” he finally says, easy publicity smile plastered on his face.

“Hi,” Yn replies. They are stacking the books neatly onto the top shelf of new arrivals. “You came back.”

Mingyu nods. “For the books.”

Yn smirks like they know he’s lying but Mingyu is probably projecting, again. “Give me a sec.”

Mingyu says “Of course” and then tries to seem like he’s interested in the shelf of Western fantasy novels because he’s not sure what he’s really supposed to do with his hands or how to not actively stare at the Bookkeeper (It’s been one day!). He hears when Yn gets off the stepstool and tosses the empty cardboard box to the side, and turns around when he thinks she’s behind the counter. There’s rustling around and then Yn sets the stack of books on the counter and pushes them towards him.

“Is it weird to stay in here and read?”

Yn shrugs. “Customers like to. There’s a reason there are chairs everywhere.”

“Ah,” Mingyu nods, “thank you.” Because he’s not sure what else to add. He makes it back to the True Crime corner and its purple bean bag again. It’s comfortable and every so often he can hear Yn shifting around, arranging shelves and unboxing shipments. It’s still muted, like they’re trying to be more quiet knowing that someone else is here. Mingyu smiles to himself, and tries to actually read. Which is what he came to do.

It’s at least an hour or two later when his back is sore enough that he figures he should get up and leave. A text from Soonyoung comes asking where he is, followed by the assurance that he would meet him there and yes, Mingyu can use his backpack to smuggle the contraband books back onto set without Jeonghan noticing. It’s a deal, so Mingyu picks up two more titles to buy at the counter. Soonyoung needs the workout anyway.

Yn is typing away at their computer, again, and pretends not to notice Mingyu until he sets the books on the counter again, one stack for those already bought (the twine tied into a poor imitation of the bow it was yesterday, he’s not good at tying bows, okay) and one for the new ones. Yn reads the titles and then looks back at him with an eyebrow raised.

“Do you only read about murder and serial killers and missing persons?”

“Well, it’s like a main interest of mine. I like reading about real cases. Cold cases especially. The serial killers and just kinda a part of that.”

“You know it makes you look more and more like a serial killer yourself.”

Mingyu sputters. “What? No, I like, actually like to help on cold cases. You know, like, I’m friends with this detective, okay? And there’s a lot you can do as a regular person just scouring databases and really boring online stuff that’s really helpful to the cases but, once again, very boring to most people.”

“Hm, some killers actually like to associate themselves with law enforcement in order to make them less of a suspect, or maybe just to get the thrill of being close to being caught but never being suspected.”

“Aw come on! Just let me explain how I got into this…topic in the first place, okay?” Mingyu insists, still laughing.

Yn eyes him suspiciously but there’s a playfulness there. “Hm, yes, please tell me exactly how you aren’t a serial killer by sounding exactly like how a serial killer would try to explain himself.”

“Oh my gosh,” Mingyu groans. “I took forensic science in high school, okay? And we had a detective come in and talk to us about his job and he showed us some really gross pictures–”

“And that was when you realized you actually wanted to kill someone.”

“--What? No!”

Yn giggles then but waves him on. “Continue, Mr. Serial Killer.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes but presses forward. “He was a cold case detective and so he talked to us for a while about this one specific case he has been working on for years and they were close to finding the perpetrator, hopefully, through some of that online DNA tracing. You know, like the ancestry.com databases and stuff? Well, I became kinda invested in it and bugged him until he let me help. It’s a lot of volunteer work, actually. Just diving into online archives and tracing matches. I was helping him when they cracked that case actually,” he adds, suddenly feeling shy. He looks anywhere but at Yn who is finally not teasing him anymore, but that only lasts for so long, and when he looks back the bookkeeper has their head tilted and they’re giving Mingyu this unreadable look.

“So when you are not making millions of dollars being a top-billed actor,” Yn finally says, “you are actually a helpless nerd who scours internet databases for DNA matches for cold cases.”

“I’m not famous, I’m like a B-list actor,” Mingyu protests feebly. He doesn’t even make that much. He can feel his own skin on his face heating up to melting point and he’s not sure the color is any less incriminating.

“So how’d you get into reading?”

Yn laughs something a little bitter then, but worn down, like they’re settled in the distaste. “I used to hate it actually, but there’s not much better to do when you are stuck with a full leg cast for nine weeks. I thought I’d go insane with nothing to do so I read. Anything that was in my mom’s library actually, which meant a ton of Austen and Dickens and Dumas. Old dead English people.”

Mingyu laughs along with them, even though it feels like he’s stumbled on something still sore. He doesn’t ask more about the broken leg, it seems like a can of worms he doesn’t even have the right to approach as a perfect stranger.

“Why do you have a whole section for true crime if you think it’s weird then?” True crime is familiar, a safe topic to steer back to.

Yn lets out a deep exhale, their cheeks puffing in thought. They look at Mingyu somberly. “Actually, there’s a reason for that, you know.”

Mingyu immediately lets his teasing topple away into something more serious. “What’s that?” he asks, in a bit of reverent quiet voice.

Yn sighs and looks out the window and then back at Mingyu like they’re debating something. Then they leans forward across the counter. Mingyu has to channel all his thinking off the way Yn’s face is suddenly so close to his and their eyes have this drowning effect if you look directly in them for too long, in favor of how serious Yn says the next words. “There was actually a string of murders about eight years ago,” Yn finally breathes out.

Mingyu pulls back–from shock at the words, not an internal fear that’s he going to suddenly lean forward and kiss her without warning. “Seriously?” he breathes out.

Yn nods. “Everyone said there’s a serial killer but he’s never been caught.”

“Oh my God.”

They sigh again, looking back down at the desk. “It’s really scary actually. I think there was a murder a few years ago the police can’t explain and everyone thinks he’s still out there, looking for his next victim.”

Mingyu inhales a sharp breath. “Is he—oh my God, like, there’s really a killer in this town? And the victims—and the police and—oh my God.”

Then Mingyu sees it: the amusement in Yn’s face that’s not anywhere near their lips but practically glimmering in their eyes. He can feel the scowl coming. “You—” He hears Yn break before he sees them, cackling laughter and chuckles that they can’t hold back.

Mingyu pushes away from the counter to stalk off back to his corner away from Yn’s excessive amusement at how gullible he is. His intention is petty and a bit childish but at least it would prove some point, but he doesn’t get far enough to execute it. Somewhere between walking and turning around his shoulder rams into the end display of one of the shelves where a stack of copies of someone’s self-help book had been arranged neatly in order. Mingyu manages to destroy that in three seconds. Loudly.

There’s silence for the pass of a heartbeat before Mingyu even dares to look up and meet Yn’s eyes, wide and so amused, if not a bit shocked.

“That wasn’t the plan.”

That does it for Yn, and they have to lean against the counter with one hand while the other holds their stomach and they laugh. Directly in Mingyu’s face. So loudly and openly their eyes shut and–is Yn crying?

Mingyu huffs out a few times but the smile is unavoidable, especially when Yn’s laugh sounds like this. Yes he can feel the spines of several books digging into his ankles where they fell but he can’t stop staring and smiling. Like someone stole a sample from a heaven soundtrack and put it on loop and–oh. He might be crushing on someone he’s only known for two days. Soonyoung would lose it over this. You always fall way too easily. He doesn’t care though, not now. Instead, he crosses his arms and tries to appear bitter (it’s not working when all Yn does is continue to laugh at him).

He lets Yn continue to laugh even when he huffs and bends down to start picking up the books. He hears the laughter taper down a little bit when Yn finally comes around the counter to help him.

“You’re extremely talented,” they say (gosh, when did their voice get so close and how much longer can he keep staring at the ground to avoid looking up at them in a daze?) “much more in entertainment than acting.”

Mingyu scoffs at that and stands up straight. “Is that just from my horrible first, second and third impressions or have you actually seen anything I’ve acted in?”

Yn stands up straight and maybe he’s a little obsessed with the way they barely reach his shoulders. Yn navigates around him to set the books on the stool and then to fix the shelf itself. “I haven’t seen anything with you in it yet, but you do attract a certain amount of attention.”

“Haha,” Mingyu says blandly. Except when Yn looks back at him their smile is just so sweet. His mind starts spiraling reflexively. “Wait, you’re not going to ban me from coming to your store ever again for destroying property, right? I can pay compensation for it if you really need me too—“

“Mingyu,” Yn laughs, “It’s fine. No permanent harm done. I feel like if I ban you from here I might be held liable for the deterioration of your mental health.”

He doesn’t know how to explain how happy that makes him. The fact that a cute Bookkeeper in a seaside town is letting him come back again. The fact that he wants to make a million excuses to keep coming back.

. . .

the rest of the world was black and white (we were in screaming color)

Soonyoung insists on coming with him, presumably because he’s physically close to murdering Director Han with his bare hands if he doesn’t get a mental break. Seungkwan handed him a note through one of their side characters (Tiffany’s little brother), asking for a specific book and of course Mingyu cheerfully takes it as a God-given burden [excuse] to talk to Yn again.

“You seem to be frequenting this establishment frequently,” Soonyoung says not-so-slyly.

“Don’t say a word.” Mingyu glares. Because they are like two feet away from 105 North Tower and there are plenty of other, more appropriate times to embarrass him to death. Probably as far away from Yn and their pretty eyes as he can get.

Soonyoung pulls a dramatic shoulder shrug. “I see nothing, say nothing. Nihil agio.”

Mingyu scrunches his nose. “I don’t think that’s the right Latin.” Except even if he’s bickering with his best friend he’s still nice enough to hold the door open for him and let him step in first. He regrets it when he steps in afterwards and almost topples over Soonyoung because he freezes within two steps, unmoving.

“What are you—“

“Jeon,” Soonyoung says lowly.

Mingyu glances over his friend’s shoulder to see Wonwoo sitting at the counter with a cup of coffee, apparently comfortably conversing with Bookkeeper. He ignores murderous Soonyoung and waves. “Hi Wonwoo!”

“Hi Mingyu,” Wonwoo says cheerfully, waving back, “Hi Soonyoung!”

Soonyoung groans. “Jeon,” he says, “I see you are ruining local air quality in my one place of respite as well. Also, hi Yn.”

Wonwoo’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion while Yn pulls an amused face.

“I’ll be with my soulmate,” Soonyoung says, looking pointedly at Mingyu before stalking through the shelves.

“Bye Soonyoung,” Wonwoo says cheerfully. Soonyoung doesn’t have to turn around to throw up his middle finger. Wonwoo’s face turns confused to Mingyu. “Do you get the feeling that Soonyoung doesn’t like me that much?”

Mingyu chokes on a bit of air before composing himself and giving a consoling smile (coupled with a pat on Wonwoo’s shoulder). “I’m sure he doesn’t hate you,” he says, “you should go try to make him like you a bit more though. Maybe try to share some interests to strengthen your friendship?”

Wonwoo nods like he’s just been granted some divine instruction. “Sharing interests,” he repeats quietly. The wheels are visibly grinding inside his head.

“He’s in the tiger section,” Mingyu offers with a smile. Wonwoo immediately thanks him and disappears off to find his future best friend.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Yn snickers from behind the counter.

Mingyu shrugs with a smirk. “If Soonyoung hasn’t murdered him yet, I’m sure Wonwoo can survive.”

“That’s not very reassuring for my carpet.”

He laughs. Then he thinks. Finally, blurts out, (with nothing like nonchalance) “How do you know Wonwoo though?”

When Yn looks up at him over her up cup of coffee he’s only a tad distracted by how lovely their eyelashes are, the way they frame their chocolate eyes. “We grew up together,” Yn says, an amused tilt to their voice, “he used to live here, you know.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Yn laughs, but it doesn’t sound unkind, “did you come here for more serial killer books or with the goal of trying to convince me you are not a serial killer?”

He scrambles for the slip of paper he definitely put in one of these jacket pockets (somehow what makes the jean jacket a designer is how many false and real pockets it can fit). “Aha! I actually came to find this. For a friend.”

Yn takes the slip of paper and reads the title. Then Yn clicks on their computer, chewing their lips in contemplation. “I don’t have it in the store but I can get it in just a couple days, would that be okay?”

“That’d be perfect!” He says. Because that’s another perfectly valid excuse to return again, to strengthen their friendship of course. He desperately wants to be friends with them.

They clack some more on their keyboard, presumably placing the order, and when they blink back up at Mingyu they look hesitant for the first time. Or maybe concerned. “The order is placed,” Yn says carefully, “and it should be here around Thursday or Friday. It might be easier to let you know if I had your number.” Their cheeks are really red too, it must be the heat getting to them. “So you can know as soon as it’s delivered.”

“Oh, yeah sure!” Mingyu says, quickly fumbling for his phone to hold it out for them. Yn takes it and their hands brush. There’s no electric shock but there might as well be from how Mingyu freezes. It’s the onslaught of thoughts about how soft their hands are and how he might want to hold them and never let go. It takes two seconds for Yn to input their contact and call their own phone.

“What are you saving my contact as?” He asks, seeing a glimpse of the screen. The grin YN gives him is a bit mischievous as they tap away and then turn the phone towards him. He only gets a second to read, “Definitely Not a Serial Killer Mingyu.”

He huffs out a frustrated breath of air. “Glad to see you enjoy messing with me just as much as everyone else.”

“It’s fun, you’re easy to mess with.”

Mingyu hums and taps on their simple contact name “Yn” to edit it to “Bookkeeper” before showing it to them.

“That’s definitely not my job title but okay,” Yn laughs.

“I thought you usually sent order information through email,” Wonwoo says, appearing from nowhere. A partial question, a partial way to make Yn turn a shade redder.

“I don’t use my email,” Mingyu blurts. Not a perfect lie, but he really doesn’t. Jeonghan reads and sends all his emails.

Wonwoo shrugs. Soonyoung is calling him from the door, complaining loudly about the decrepit status of their society’s morals. He really needs to stop by the coffee shop and get him one of those special edition smoothies to cool off before they get back on set.

Still, it doesn’t stop him from turning around at the door and giving Yn an unrestrained, beaming smile. “See you later, Yn!”

Their grin is a little crooked, shy, but it’s there and that’s enough for now.

. . .

no body (no crime)

Is it flirting if he texts them every chance he’s free on set? Is it the content or the frequency that matters in these situations? Because Yn’s talking about this neighborhood cat that lives around the business street and everyone takes turns feeding and it’s not exactly flirting but they’ve also been consistently messaging back and forth for a couple days. He kind of wants to pull out his phone and text them now, except that he’s at an actual cast dinner and it’s late enough in the night that it would cross some unsaid line they’ve set up.

He’s drawn out of his thoughts by the sound of someone else yelling drunkenly, another exhortation to drink as much as they can. Mingyu frowns down at the beer in front of his plate. The food is good. The fact that his director is breathing down his neck insisting they all get ridiculously drunk when he would rather do anything else is not.

He would prefer Jeonghan to be here, but unfortunately his manager was stuck with the rest of the crew eating whatever fast food they could order en masse to the hotel. No, this was for the “main cast” and directors. Which basically meant that Director Han was being a hierarchical jerk, which Mingyu did not like at all.

He’s squished in between Seungkwan and Dino, their head cinematographer (super young but he already had a ton of movies on his resume so people worshipped him like a prodigy, in general he was also pleasant to hang out with so Mingyu also worshipped him, mostly for social reasons). Soonyoung is MIA, though from the texts Mingyu had glanced at earlier, he was invited but feigned sickness to stay as far away from the Director and Jeon as much as possible. Wonwoo was all the way on the other end of the table where the director and Leigh were sitting.

“If he gives another toast just to make us all drink together one more time, I swear,” Seungkwan mutters beside him, making a face at the alcohol Director Han is dumping into Leigh’s cup on the other end of the table. Wonwoo gently dissuades him to stop and hands Leigh a cup of water.

Mingyu barely touched his alcohol and he was no longer hungry for anything on the table, but he chews extra slowly on the fries just so he has something keeping him occupied and out of too much attention.

One of the senior actors, Harold, played a kindhearted small business owner who helped Leigh with timely and sage advice in her time of need. In real life, Harold was bitter most of the time and snobbish to most of the actors on set, including Mingyu. Which he didn’t quite understand because they barely had two scenes together and he had avoided him most other times. Still, Mingyu must have been doing something wrong because Harold is sitting directly across from him and the one time he laughs a little too loudly at a joke Dino makes about Minghao, he feels the full force of the old man’s wrath.

“Can’t they get more mature actors to fulfill the parts these days?” He remarks too loudly, overtly scornful. “I swear they just pick anybody with a nice body these days and no talent.”

Maybe Mingyu could have brushed it off and cried about it later if the whole table hadn’t stopped, if Director Han hadn’t heard and laughed like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “You know we appreciate Mingyu for his wonderful appearance on camera, but he also knows his lines, so I have to forgive him for other inadequacies.”

“Anybody can memorize a couple lines,” Harold scoffs. “Talent is what’s missing from the kids these days.”

“Hey,” Seungkwan snaps. He looks about ready to pop and maybe start screaming at a senior actor for something that doesn’t really matter and really shouldn’t be made into a big deal, so Mingyu grabs his arm and shakes his rapidly.

“It’s fine, just leave it,” Mingyu says quietly.

Seungkwan glares at him. “But they—“

“Come on, Mingyu! Lighten up the mood and take a shot!” Director Han yells, reaching over the table. Mingyu tries to hide his grimace, but his cheeks are hot with shame and he wants to be anywhere but here. Leigh is looking at him, overly concerned and Wonwoo looks ready to protest but Mingyu’s already been too much of an inconvenience for everyone. So he reaches for the glass and throws the shot back without hesitation, hating the burn in his throat and eyes and the way he just wants to get out.

Director Han cackles and makes most of the table cheer loudly. Mingyu sits back down, counts to seven, leans over to Seungkwan and tells him he’s gonna slip out back to the hotel.

“Are you okay?” Seungkwan asks at the same time Dino leans to ask the same thing. He’s an actor for goodness sake, no matter how untalented, so of course he throws his best smile and assures them that he’s just a little tired and Jeonghan is picking him up, a pitiful lie.

Thankfully, they let him go after he promises to text Seungkwan when he gets back, and he slips out the restaurant front door trying to ignore old man Harold’s glares. It’s only when he stands out on the empty street that he remembers he left his jacket inside. Well, walking—wandering—is the best option to preserve body heat. Unless there are really serial killers roaming about here. Then again, he thinks he’ll be safe enough with his ridiculous height and unhelpful arms.

He should have expected his feet to betray him in this way and lead him exactly here. Except he barely has time to connect how he ended up at the bookstore before Yn looks up from where they have a key in the lock of the front door. Yn stops, looks up at him, surprised.

“Mingyu?”

He scrambles for some excuse because he barely had enough time to put on his actor smile and he’s sure he looks absolutely miserable right now (since that’s how he feels) and he really doesn’t want Yn to see him miserable for a stupid reason like people saying things at a work dinner and he showed up when they’re already closing and probably doesn’t even want to see him right now. “Oh sorry,” he says eventually. “I thought you were open later.”

Yn stops, their hand still on the door and gives him this look like they’re trying to measure all of Mingyu in teaspoons. Yn pockets the keys and shakes their head. “I’m not closing for the night,” they reply, “I was just stepping out to get a bite from the corner store. Do you want to come with me? I can come back and unlock the doors.”

It’s an olive branch of sorts, probably the most open Yn has ever been to him and all he can find to do is nod and let Yn lead him down the street. He has an internal panic of trying to remember how to walk next to someone he has the tiniest crush on without being weird and settles for trying to hunch his shoulders with his hands in his pockets. Yn doesn’t seem that bothered and walks easily, familiarly down the street.

“My friend owns the shop,” they say eventually, breaking the silence. Awkwardly. Which Mingyu realizes is weird because in their few interactions he’s never been the quiet one and now Yn is here trying to make up for that, talk because they know he doesn’t really want to. It’s melted-candy sweet.

“Oh really?” He manages out.

They nod and point to the one store lit up on the corner. “His family ran it and he took it over and now he’s trying to do something with it because he wants to do music full time.” Yn holds the door open for him once they get there, and maybe he forgets it’s weird to stare at an acquaintance because their smile is small but glowing in this weird convenience store light. He almost stumbles inside but catches himself and ignores how Yn laughs lightly behind him.

“Hey Jihoon,” Yn says. That’s when Mingyu notices the guy behind the counter, with his laptop up and headphones, who barely looks up when Yn greets him but does a double take when he sees Mingyu.

“Who’s this?” He asks, squinting at Mingyu, and maybe now he can see why the two of them are friends. Or maybe that’s the brisk blunt attitude of everyone in this town.

“A friend,” Yn replies, “Mingyu this is Jihoon.”

“You’re working on the movie?” Jihoon asks, but he doesn’t seem antagonistic, maybe a little curious. So Mingyu tries a smile and nods. “Cool,” Jihoon says and apparently that’s all because he goes back to his computer immediately.

“Do you want anything?” Yn asks him, already wandering through the aisles. He spots the top of their head over a shelf of chips.

“I ate just a little bit ago.”

“Pick out something to drink then,” Yn says. “And don’t say no, just say you’ll owe me a favor later.”

For some weird reason that’s the thing that makes him crack a smile, a real one, for the first time in hours. He just heads over to the refrigerated section and pulls out a lemonade before Yn can change their mind. He sets it on the counter with the rest of their scavenging and Jihoon scans all the items before he frowns at Yn. “Aren’t you going home?”

Yn stops for a second, eyes darting to Mingyu and then back at Jihoon. “No,” they say, “I’m going back to open back up the shop. Like usual.”

Jihoon blinks at them for a second, hums and then pushes the card reader towards them as a sign to pay. He waits until he hands back the receipt to say, “Have fun,” so seriously it sounds like a threat. Mingyu doesn’t try to read into it much, childhood friends have weird ways of communication all time. (He should know, Soonyoung has been stuck around him for too long.)

Yn turns on most of the soft yellow lights when they get back, but not all of them, and pulls a high stool from one of the aisles to the front of the counter. Yn goes back around and sits in their usual spot, then gives Mingyu a look until he realizes the first chair was for him and sits down. It’s a bottle of convenience store lemonade and a bag of gummy worms, not a date.

It doesn’t make him any less nervous. It may have to do with the fact that Yn looks really pretty and wears baseball caps all the time. They open a drawer and pull out a deck of cards with a red swirl design.

“Do you know how to play anything?” Yn asks, already shuffling them with a practiced ease. It’s a little mesmerizing seeing them fold the cards together, form a bridge and split the deck to do it again.

“Go fish?”

Yn snorts at him. “Here. I’ll show you how to play butterfingers. It’s fast paced.”

Mingyu just nods while they start to set down the cards. Five down, one up, one up five more down. Then Yn splits the rest of the cards between the two of them. “Okay,” they point to the large deck face down on Mingyu’s side, “these are your cards and you have to get rid of them as quickly as possible.”

“As quickly as possible?”

“Yep. You can only have seven cards in hand at one point though, and you have to put them down in one of these piles in ascending or descending order and…”

He doesn’t quite catch all the rules until they are actually playing, and by then it’s a flurry of fingers, and once Yn starts giggling in between telling him all the things he can’t do, they can’t stop. He doesn’t want them to.

Yn wins the first round, unsurprisingly, and Mingyu still has at least twenty cards in his deck. The second and third time they play, he gets into it enough to get close to them, both of them yelling in frustration when they only have a few cards left. He only wins the fourth time, and with that Yn insists they have had enough and he lets them take the cards back only a little disappointed.

“I used to do boxing,” Yn says apropos of nothing. Mingyu almost chokes on his drink. Now he’s thinking about Yn punching someone and is ashamed to say it’s kind of hot. (Soonyoung would take this moment to scream in Mingyu’s ear that he’s screwed.)

“Oh really?” Mingyu says, wide-eyed (except he doesn’t want to seem too surprised and offend them or not surprised at all and thus not interested—maybe Jeonghan is right when he says he should interact with people more outside of filming scenes.)

They nod though. “I went to college on a scholarship for it and was going to all these championships—you know nothing about boxing do you?”

Mingyu ducks his head, laughing, “I know nothing about sports in general, you know. Forensic science detective nerd.”

Yn clicks their tongue in fake disappointment. “Nerd indeed. For your simpleton mind to understand, I was really good at it, and I really liked to do it. Jihoon used to do it too, but he wasn’t as good as me,” they say, adding a wink.

“Wow, so humble,” Mingyu jokes.

“I was good, and I loved it and I thought that’s all I ever wanted to do. And then…”

And Mingyu waits because he thinks he knows where this story goes, and Yn has the same distant look in their eyes as the other day talking about reading books in lieu of being able to do anything else.

Yn exhales and taps the counter. “And then,” they start again lightly, “I got in a wreck and totally messed up my left leg and my arm and I went through rehab but by then I would hurt myself more if I kept up boxing so I had to give it up.” They flourish jazz hands, “Now I’m here with a tiny bookstore and a dude who probably should be asleep right now.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

They flush. “Because you looked all…sad and I’m not good at cheering up people.”

“So you tried to cheer me up by telling me your tragic life story.”

“Yes,” they deadpan, “so you could see how miserable I am and realize you are fine compared to me.”

Mingyu chokes on his laughter. Yn throws a gummy worm at him.

“But seriously,” they say after a moment, “I was trying to tell you that it’s going to be okay.” Yn waves their hands around for a second, grasping for the words. “Whatever has got you down, you can come back from it.”

Mingyu stares down at his drink, fiddling with the loose label. “Did you ever have people doubt if you were actually talented and then feel like you have to do something to prove yourself but you’ve already been working so hard you don’t know what else you can do to prove you can do it?” Which, objectively is a lot to say to a somewhat-acquaintance, somewhat-friend who you find cute, but for once Mingyu is just glad to have it off his chest. Glad because Yn doesn’t seem weirded out and merely leans back in their chair, thoughtful for a moment.

“I think that…” Yn finally begins, “whoever told you that is an idiot.”

It’s hard not to laugh at that, the way they say it so bluntly and seriously and simply. He can’t stop laughing actually, leaning against the counter to catch his breath because his stomach hurts so much and Yn is laughing with him, all their teeth showing and it’s so cute he doesn’t really know what to do and he’s struck by the fact that it’s been less than a week and—dang. He really likes them.

. . .

i don't wanna think of anything else (now that i thought of you)

Logically, the next step in realizing your crush is turning into something more substantial like liking them, would be to ask them out. Except Mingyu never thinks of things like this simply.

For one, Yn owns a bookstore that they work at all day, and going on a date would probably be really inconvenient for their schedule and thus instead of something nice, Mingyu would just be an obstruction to their daily life. Maybe they’d only go out with him because they seem to be really nice like that (opposed to their cold, disinterested exterior, which—God—is another reason he really likes them.)

For another, he’s Mingyu. He’s broken their bookshelf and intruded in their life and he’s technically a part of the huge obnoxious film crew that has invaded their pleasant hometown. He also almost cried in front of them (he’s pretty sure Yn could tell). Overall, he doesn't have a lot going for him when it comes to someone who has been nothing but cool. And cute. And really a lot more out together than him.

And maybe he’s overthinking too much, staring at his cup of coffee intensely enough to garner concern because someone clears their throat above him and he finds Jun, hotel owner #2 there, looking vaguely concerned. It’s offset by his bright pink apron and pig-shaped oven mitt on one hand. He was obviously the one serving breakfast this morning except it’s 12:32pm and most people have already gone. Except for Mingyu (apparently.)

“Hey, do you want any extra English muffins?” Jun asks, smiling eagerly.

“Um, do I have to pay extra?” He asks hesitantly.

“Nah, I have a lot of brunch leftovers,” Jun says. And then he turns around and disappears into the kitchen before Mingyu can formulate a response. He comes back a few minutes later with a plate of toasted English muffins, carefully topped with butter and raspberry jelly. He sets the plate down and then claims the seat across from Mingyu without asking. Which he doesn’t mind, it was nice enough to give him free toast.

“This is really good,” Mingyu says through a mouthful.

Jun’s eyes sparkle. “Thank you. I made them myself.”

Mingyu hums and takes another bite, trying to figure out if Jun wants to talk to him or just stare at him while he eats.

He’s saved by Jun pulling out his phone and tapping rapidly before turning the screen to him. “Do you want to see my new baby?” He asks, even though he’s already shoving the phone in Mingyu’s face.

There’s a cute close up photo of a calico cat on screen black patch of fur over the left eye and orange over the right. Mingyu coos immediately. Jun practically beams.

“Her name is Bohemian Rhapsody,” Jun says. “Or just Rhapsody. Joshua is fighting me about it.”

“She’s so cute,” Mingyu says still smiling while Jun scrolls through more photos.

“She’s a rescue actually. I drove like two hours to the shelter after I saw a video of her and I just wanted her to like me so bad.”

“But she did, didn’t she?”

Jun’s smile grows impossibly warmer. “She did. I almost didn’t go see her though.”

“Why not?” Mingyu asks. (He’s almost abandoned his toast now.)

Jun shrugs. “I guess I was scared, because what if I drove all that way with all the love in my heart and the cat didn’t even like me enough? Then I wouldn’t even know how to start to adopt her. It was impulsive too. We’d have to figure out how to keep a cat around the hotel and dealing with customers and everything.”

Mingyu hums in understanding. “What made you decide to go in the end?”

“Joshua told me to,” Jun snorts, laughing. “But also I told myself if it’s something real, we can work out everything, but I shouldn’t ever let myself regret letting someone go before I even get to find out.”

Mingyu nods slowly as the words sink it. Ironically, he can’t tell if they are talking about a cat anymore. Jun looks curiously at him before finally getting up from the table.

“You seem happier now,” he decides, “I’ll bring Rhapsody around sometime if you’d like to see her.”

“Thanks, I’d love that,” Mingyu says genuinely.

And maybe he thinks about Jun’s weird words of wisdom for too long, through several scenes he has to shoot and all the way up until he’s back in the hotel room eating take out with Jeonghan and Dino.

“I’m gonna go ask them out,” he declares. Jeonghan barely looks up from his burger.

“Finally,” he mutters.

Dino blinks owlishly. “Who?”

“Yn,” Mingyu grins, “I’m gonna ask them out.”

“Ah,” Dino nods slowly. Then he stops again. “Wait who?”

“His bookstore lover,” Jeonghan says through his mouthful of food.

“I don’t remember telling you that.”

“You didn’t have to,” Jeonghan says, “Soonyoung wouldn’t shut up. He keeps more tabs on you than I have the energy to.”

Dino snorts. “That sounds kind of excessive. Anyways, how are you going to ask them out?”

Mingyu opens his mouth before he realizes that he has no clue. He can’t exactly waltz up to the bookstore and declare his love for them, then Yn might actually be convinced he’s a serial killer/stalker. He has to be smooth but romantic, neither of which come naturally to him. He has to do something they’ll like but he’s not even fully sure what they like besides boxing and books, but isn’t that the point of asking them out in the first place? Hey, I’d like to get dinner with you to get to know you better, with the hopes of knowing you enough to know if you’ll kiss back if I kiss you? When did dating become so complex (he has a non answer for that, except Soonyoung snarkily replying that he’s never even properly dated anyone before.)

Dino pats his shoulder consolingly. Apparently his inner turmoil is outwardly obvious again. “Take your time there, bud.”

. . .

something gave you the nerve (to touch my hand)

“Didn’t you buy this book before?” Yn begins tentatively. When Mingyu twirls around to face them they’re holding up a book on Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women. Crap. There goes his attempt at nonchalance and smoothness.

“I actually don’t need to buy any of those books,” he blurts out.

Yn smirks and looks down at the stack. “Sense and Sensibility, How to Raise Your Pet Turtle, The Ultimate Collection of Ted Bundy Articles, and Crime and Punishment,” they read off, “yeah I think I could tell you picked up some random choices.”

He’s already blushing but this is good. This makes him commit to his choices. “I actually came here for something else…”

Yn raises one eyebrow. “Did you come to just give me more books to put back on the shelves or because I have such an enthralling personality?” They joke.

“I came to see you,” he says. But of course, he’s doing this all wrong, because Yn freezes head-to-toe, staring down at the counter. Like Cheol always says, at this point it’s all or nothing. He takes a deep breath. “Which is weird because it hasn’t been that long since we’ve known each other but I think I really like you and I want to go on a date with you and get to know you more, and I don’t really do that with anyone. I haven’t wanted to as much as I have since I met you.”

There’s this terribly awkward silence in the store for a minute that leaves Mingyu regretting every life choice that ever led him to this point, starting from when he first dropped out of college because of a casting call.

“Will it scare you away if I say I know I like you?”

Yn bites back a smile. “Not exactly. Does that mean you want to go on a date or something?”

“One date at first,” Mingyu says, “and then as many as you’ll agree to go on with me after that.”

Yn spins in their chair back to their computer, tapping away at their keyboard but Mingyu can tell they’re nervous by the way they keep messing up and hitting the backspace like they can’t type anything right. In their defense, he’s pretty sure he can’t even read words properly in this state.

“Okay,” Yn finally says.

Mingyu inhales sharply. “Okay? Like yes? That easily?”

Yn laughs at him. “What’d you think I was going to say?”

“I thought you’d at least make me clean the whole store to earn your affection or something,” Mingyu says. “I kind of have been panicking over this for enough hours that my brain came up with plenty of terrible scenarios.”

Yn rolls their eyes at him, but their smile is so pretty it’s distracting. “Where are you taking me on the first date?”

“I will admit I didn’t think that far ahead. But I have tonight off. Unless you are busy. Then we could do it some other time. Or never if you change your mind.”

“Tonight is good, Mingyu,” Yn says, “I’ll pick the place. You pick me up here at seven.”

It’s perfect, he can feel his excitement betraying him in the way he’s grinning like an idiot. “Seven is good. Seven is great. I’m perfectly free at seven.”

Maybe he has to leave and maybe Yn’s laugh is a soundtrack on repeat in his head for the rest of the afternoon until he sees them again.

He is dangerous close to showing up in a tuxedo before Jeonghan and Soonyoung talk him down from it. Somehow Minghao shows up to their hotel room an hour before he’s supposed to meet Yn with a suitcase and a frown that says he knows all the horrible fashion decisions Mingyu would make on his own.

“I was called for an emergency situation,” he says solemnly.

“It was getting desperate,” Jeonghan says from the couch, “he was trying to put on zebra print.”

Minghao looks physically sick for a moment before gathering himself. “Okay, who are you trying to impress? What are they like?”

“Short,” Mingyu blurts out, before hurriedly adding, “super sweet but acts like they’re mean but also they’re kind of nerdy and they used to do boxing and they wears baseball caps all the time.”

“I can…manage with that,” Minghao says carefully, already unzipping his case and sorting through some of the clothes. It doesn’t take him to wind up with an outfit that looks just the right mix of fancy and casual to not send Yn running. Which, at this point he’s still confused as to why they haven’t run away yet (his brain unhelpfully supplies that there’s still time for that to happen.)

“You should get going,” Jeonghan says, “don’t do anything stupid, but if you do make sure it’s on camera.”

“Always so encouraging and heartwarming,” Mingyu calls back to him. Minghao actually manages a decently comforting smile at the door.

Soonyoung tackles him into a hug and gives him a genuine grin. “Relax and have some fun, Mingyu,” he says, “you deserve it.”

He gives him a tight-lipped smile because he’s starting to get paranoid about time and nonexistent traffic. “I’ll try.” God, he already feels sick from nerves.

The nerves slush around in a toxic mess inside his stomach all the way through his brisk walk (not running because if he shows up to their door sweating like a dog there’s no way this date won’t go wrong). But Yn must have some magic in them, because the moment he sees them, leaning against their storefront in a green cardigan and floral pants, the nerves dissolve away.

(He jogs the rest of the way to them, because they are running late already and not because he’s that excited to see them.)

“Hi Yn,” he breathes out when he stops in front of them. Yn lost the baseball cap for the occasion and their bangs are out across their forehead when they smiles back up at him.

“Hi Mingyu,” Yn says, trying to sound bored. They push off of the glass door and start walking, “you like fish don’t you?”

He’d like to know if Yn knew he actually loved fish or if they were just saying it because of the coastal town setting. Still he follows after them and says he does. Then he can’t help but start to tell Yn how his older brother Seungcheol hates fish and once he pranked him by putting sardines in his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Which, Yn insists sounds terrible, but then they tell him about their brother Vernon and how they once gave him a cup of iced soy sauce instead of an Americano.

Yn takes him to a smaller restaurant down the street where the owner welcomes them familiarly (and throws intrigued glances at Mingyu.) Yn doesn’t pay attention, and tells Mingyu to tell them more about how he started acting while they order some dishes he doesn’t catch the name of.

It’s not a very interesting story, he finds himself saying each time before he starts another long narrative he gets too caught up in the retelling of. But Yn just smiles each time and listens to him. He gets them to talk too (when his cheeks overheat from how much they just…stare at him) and is rewarded with several tales of Wonwoo and Jihoon’s high school antics.

Maybe they sit there for two hours and don’t notice it. Maybe Mingyu wants to kiss them even more.

“Can we do this again?” He blurts out, after the owner comes back with the third refill of their drinks.

Yn immediately glances down and Mingyu is forced to think that he’s done it again—went and ruined a perfectly good thing. But then Yn looks up again, serious, and doesn’t give him a chance to overthink when they look at him like that. Like they see him.

“I’m scared, you know,” Yn says quietly, “because I don’t want to like you this much if you are going to leave in a few weeks and never come back. I don’t want a summer love or anything like that, but I don’t want to be the one who holds you back from your movie star dreams.” They say it with a bit of weak sarcasm but the genuine fear leaks through, Mingyu can tell.

Impulsiveness be damned, he reaches across the table and gently takes Yn’s hand into his own.

“I’m scared too,” he admits, “but I don’t want to give up on something before it starts because of that. If we…if we like each other than we can figure things out. I don’t have to give up on my dreams, but I also don’t have to stay in the same place.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” he begins, “that we should just keep going on dates, and figure it out as we go. Is that too stupid?”

Yn squeezes his hand back once before they smile. “It sounds nice.”

. . .

call my bluff (call you babe)

There’s a fair that comes to the town in the middle of fall, and happens to coincide with their filming schedule perfectly enough that Director Han already decided long ago they need to get some key scenes there. Mingyu is only scheduled for a scene the first half of the first day and the rest are scenes between Seungkwan and Leigh’s characters, finally starting to come to terms with their obvious romantic feelings. So of course he mentions this to Yn, oh-so-inconspicuously, and they take it with a grin and a bored question of “Do you want to hang out there after you are finished filming?” And of course, Mingyu eagerly agrees (it’s a wonderful idea, he should have thought of it himself.) “I haven’t been on the Ferris wheel in forever,” Yn mentions casually, which Mingyu already understands is the closest they’ll get to admitting that they really want to ride the Ferris wheel. Well, Mingyu can figure out how to grant that wish.

If only he weren’t dreadfully scared of heights.

Jeonghan, for the first time in the three years Mingyu has known him, looks furious. Like, borderline about to throw someone out the window furious. It makes Mingyu take a step back even though he’s not even the point of this anger.

“Him going on the Ferris Wheel was never part of the script,” he says sternly, “in fact, from my own recollections, one of the stipulations in the contract was that he not be forced to perform any extensive height stunts. And you want him to film a scene on the top of a 212 foot ferris wheel that you just threw into the script last minute? The answer is no.”

Han is red in the face, puffing out his cheeks as he spits out his next words. “Things change during filming all the time, and right now it is the best opinion to capture the emotion and feeling of the scene. Are we supposed to throw art to the wall because one actor cannot suck it up for a single, essential scene?”

Mingyu’s brain flips to white noise, blocking out whatever Jeonghan starts snapping back, about to bite or attack Director Han with his bare hands. The rest of the crew is standing around, unable to even continue their jobs because Mingyu is deathly terrified of going on one of the most harmless rides in existence. Leigh even looks frustrated with him, standing to the side with her arms crossed and glaring at Director Han. It really is all his fault. He’s once again managed to become the most annoying, bothersome person on set just because he can’t suck it up like the director said.

What’s worse: if he can’t do it now, he won’t be able to do it later for Yn either.

He grabs Jeonghan’s arm to stop him and his manager swings to look at him. “I’ll do it,” he barely manages out. His throat suddenly feels so dry. “I’ll do the scene, it’s fine.”

Jeonghan’s face contorts through several emotions, all of them in the range of unrestrained fury. “No, Mingyu you don’t have to—“

Director Han practically cheers. “He said he could do it! Since your actor agreed we can actually get to work. Everyone get to their places!”

Jeonghan opens his mouth to yell again but Mingyu grips his arm and shakes his head again. “It’s fine.”

He stares down Mingyu for a heartbeat. Two. “Fine,” he says, shaking off Mingyu’s grip and walking away. Somehow, that makes him feel the most empty and desperate.

He has to do it now.

He is instructed to get into one of the carts with Leigh and two cameramen while a kid who probably isn’t more than seventeen operates the whole machine that could snap and crush them to death. Maybe he could still get out if he just—except now Leigh is sitting beside him and the older cameramen was helping the kid close their little gate and lock it shut. A thin metal gate is all that’s standing between him and certain death. At this point he’d take his chances with a serial killer.

He tries to stare at the bottom of their little cart, but that doesn’t do any good when the bottom is grated metal and he can see through it, down to the rapidly distancing ground. And it shakes. Nothing is stable and he’s going to die in less than four minutes. Logically, he knows people ride this everyday and don’t die. Mingyu-ly he can’t think straight when the panic is crawling up his throat with each second they get higher into the air.

“You should just try to channel that fear into nervous jitters for the date,” Leigh offers, with genuinely the best intent, but all Mingyu does is give a tight-lipped smile because that advice genuinely sucks.

They are halfway up in the air (Mingyu assumes) when his idiot brain decides to revolt against him and convinces him it’s a good idea to look over the edge of the cart. In the distance (barely a few inches away from him) Leigh is going over their lines and how to run the scene but Mingyu can’t think. His knuckles are white, gripping the edge of their bench, and the only thing he can consciously feel is the cool metal digging into his palms and his stomach being twisted, chewed up and strung out on repeat.

He looks over the edge and his vision goes blurry. There’s not even enough oxygen up here to breathe and he’s underwater he’s—

Perfectly screwed the moment he has enough sense to comprehend his vision is blurring in, black creeping in from the edges.

He wakes up still in the cart, which immediately scratches off the possibility of him waking up from a dream. It only takes him a few seconds to realize what happened, but by then Jeonghan is beside him, patting his face softly and more than a little panicked, asking if he’s okay.

Mingyu’s throat is a little dry, but he nods. “I’m good.”

“You are so not good, Mingyu, you idiot!” Okay, that voice doesn’t make sense because why would Seungcheol be here? Yet when he turns his head, his brother is there, looking more ticked than usual. Great.

That’s when he hears someone else yelling on set and possibly Director Han freaking out in response (“I didn’t think he’d almost die!”).

“The ambulance is coming,” Jeonghan tells him, “we are taking you to the hospital.”

“Oh my God, Mingyu, are you okay?” Leigh asks. It’s already starting to get annoying the amount of times he’s being asked this.

He sits up, slowly because he feels lightheaded and hot and freezing cold at the same time. “Hospital? I’m fine,” he says quickly. His head is throbbing but honestly if it gets them to stop he doesn’t need to mention it.

“For the love of God shut up and let the EMTs take you to the emergency or so help me I will murder you myself, Kim Mingyu,” Seungcheol threatens.

Mingyu nods quickly and leans back into the cart bench. At least they are on solid ground again.

The EMTs come, someone waves a flashlight in his eyes, and Jeonghan threatens him until he gets on the stretcher to be wheeled into the ambulance. Right before the doors close him in with his fuming older brother and manager, he catches sight of Soonyoung still yelling at Director Han, and just a little bit away, Wonwoo standing next to Yn and—crap, he had to wind up fainting in front of literally everyone in his entire life he cares about, all at once.

“How’d you even get here?” He asks Seungcheol carefully.

“I was coming to give you a surprise visit,” Seungcheol says, “not to have a heart attack seeing you almost die.”

“I didn’t almost die,” Mingyu attempts.

“Not a word, Mingyu,” Jeonghan threatens. “I’m going to sue that idiot Han so far into the ground he won’t even be able to breathe the same air as us humans anymore.” The EMT worker casually taking Mingyu’s blood looked a bit concerned at those words and Mingyu smiles apologetically.

“Yn saw me, didn’t they?” Mingyu asks in a small voice.

Jeonghan sighs. “Hang on.” He pulls out his phone and starts calling someone. “Soonyoung? Get Yn to the hospital no matter what you do…yes he’s still alive, it’s literally five minutes away.”

Mingyu groans and leans back into the stretcher. “This is already in the top three most embarrassing days of my life.”

Seungcheol pats his knee finally, his only sign of comfort.

. . .

when i fold (you see the best in me)

They take his blood, run tests, ask him a dozen questions and finally decide that he’s perfectly fine, except for some slight bruising on the side of his head where he banged it against the cart when passing out. Still not hard enough to give permanent damage, apparently.

Seungcheol takes advantage of the fact that Mingyu is stuck in an emergency room bed for the next few hours to pester him about Yn, since the only news he’s heard is whatever Jeonghan has heard from Soonyoung (which are really inconsistent and hardly accurate exaggerations). So he tells him, a little bit too much, about how Yn has the prettiest smile and eyes and they give him these warm fuzzy feelings inside but the absolute worst part of it is that he thinks he might have ruined it all because he didn’t think.

“You didn’t ruin anything, Mingyu,” Seungcheol says, “you made everyone terrified because you have a bunch of people who care about you. Maybe they need a little time to gather their thoughts, but if they stop seeing you because of something like this then…I would have to think they’re not good enough for you. But don’t jump to conclusions first.”

And he can’t really argue with that logic (which is infuriating because he’s 88% sure Cheol was using his “comforting teacher” voice on him and it worked) so he just says okay.

Soonyoung shows up a little later, already in tears, which isn’t surprising. What is surprising is that Wonwoo also comes into the room showing no signs of physical harm.

“We are friends now,” Wonwoo explains, after Soonyoung is assured for the fifth time that Mingyu is alive and not facing terminal illness.

“I threatened him to call Yn and tell them the hospital room number,” Soonyoung says, “now we are on a truce.”

Wonwoo blinks. “He threatened to let a set prop collapse on me and make it look like an accident if I didn’t call them. But I also drove him here.”

That makes Mingyu laugh for the first time of the day. “Do you still think Wonwoo is evil?” He asks Soonyoung.

He glares at Wonwoo. “He is not supposed to be nice to me, it’s ruining my strong bitter well-established hatred of him and everything he stands for. He won’t even let you get cast in his stupid crime movie when that’s all you want.”

Wonwoo twists his eyebrows together, looking back at Mingyu (who is actively trying to shrink down into invisibility). “You want to be in that movie?”

Mingyu opens his mouth to explain, or maybe make up some fumbling excuse, but Soonyoung swings his head to Wonwoo, mouth gaping open and snapping shut a few times before he manages to get the words out, “Yes? That’s why he’s been sucking up to you? Why he kept baking you stuff and talking about death and crime scenes and everything for months?”

“Oh,” Wonwoo hums, “I didn’t know you wanted to be in the movie. You never said anything. If you had asked I would have put you on. You’re a good actor, I just thought you’d be too busy with your romcom stuff.”

Mingyu bites his cheek at the compliment and tries not to break down because something he really had dreamed about for years was within his reach the whole time.

Soonyoung beats him to it, immediately bursting into tears, gross and snotty. “You’re so stupid, Mingyu!” He says through his sobs. “You are so stupidly nice and don’t know how to say no to people!”

“I’m sorry,” Mingyu mumbles, patting Soonyoung’s back.

“Stop saying sorry! Just stand up for yourself!”

Sure, his brother and best friend have said those words several times before in a few variations. Including, but not limited to: “don’t let people run over you,” “stay kind but don’t let them take advantage of it,” and “say no when you want to.” He’s said he’s listened to them, but if fainting on a Ferris wheel is anything to go by, he really hasn’t. The trouble with Kim Mingyu in one step: being too much of a pushover for his own good.

From what Jeonghan tells him later, Director Han insisted on him being admitted for at least one night, likely to cover up the workman’s comp issues that will inevitably ensue. Seungcheol tries to sleep there with him, but Mingyu pulls several cards to get Jeonghan to drag him back to the hotel, if only to have some time to himself. He definitely use the time alone to slip into paranoid thoughts about how Yn didn’t come at all the first day.

That’s probably why he’s convinced it’s just a dream when he wakes up past eleven and visiting hours have already started because Yn is sitting in the one chair in the room with their knees pulled up to their chest, nose in a book.

They glance over the page and almost drops the book in shock when they meet Mingyu’s eyes, cursing. He can’t stop from laughing at them, just a little bit. (Side effect of the giddy satisfaction of seeing them in person.)

Yn exhales in exasperation. “You drool in your sleep.”

He panics when he wipes his mouth—then glares at them again when they laugh because nothing is there. “You’re here,” he says intelligently.

Yn just sets their book on the bedside table (Northanger Abbey) and pulls a large reusable grocery bag from where it was leaning against their chair. Yn hands him a teddy bear from the top, and then maneuvers a brown box carefully out of the bottom. “I didn’t come yesterday,” they say quietly, “because 1. I kind of freaked out and 2. I went to my brother’s to get his help to bake you a cake and then greatly miscalculated the time it would take me and missed visiting hours.”

When Un opens the box on the table, there’s a small orange icing cake with white lettering saying Get Well Soon, Mingyu! with a cute Ferris wheel drawing on the bottom he wants to laugh at but he’s already getting choked up. Because they came, they wanted to come, and they spent their time actually baking him something silly and sweet. If not morbidly hilarious.

“You made that for me?” He asks quietly.

“No, for the other cute guy who bothers me at my shop for dates and then makes me worried sick about him because he fainted while filming named Mingyu.”

He laughs, finally, a little wetly. “I’m sorry,” he says quickly, “that was really embarrassing. I didn’t mean to worry everyone so much. I knew I was terrified of heights and that it wouldn’t end well but…you said you wanted to go on it for our date and I figured I could try to get over my fear before then but…you saw how that ended up.”

When he looks back up at them, their lips are pressed together and they stare at him for a few uncomfortable minutes before asking. “You wanted to conquer your debilitating fear of heights just because I mentioned in passing that I wanted to ride the Ferris wheel?”

“No?” He tries hesitantly, “Maybe? Yes?”

Yn sighs, exasperated. He shuts his eyes for a minute, but then feels them sitting down on the edge of the bed. His eyes jerk open the moment they tangle their hand with his.

“You’re really sweet, it’s honestly scary,” they admit softly, “and I know I already like you. A lot. Irreparably so. So I’d appreciate it if you want to be my boyfriend, that you try to avoid scaring me to death on our dates from now on.”

His head is swirling from a single, weighty word and he can’t stop his face from making a happy, grinning expression. He still tries to joke to cover up how unbelievably happy he is right now. “So you’re saying I can scare you to death when we are not on a date.”

“I’ll genuinely murder you, Kim Mingyu,” Yn says (threat offset by their soft smile.)

Later, after Yn forces him to try the cake (it’s carrot cake, entirely too delicious just to eat one slice of), Yn pauses and gives him this look that he’s beginning to recognize as a sign they’re about to be dramatically serious. “Mingyu, I want you to know even if you break my heart, I trust you.”

Gut-punch. It’s simple and yet he kind of wants to get on one knee and offer to buy them a house or at least as many books as they want but none of that is as immediate as the blood-burning urge to lean forward that he finally gives into. Slow, so that she can back away if she wants to, but Yn has the prettiest eyes and they just get closer and she’s the one who puts a hand on the back of his neck to pull him closer for that final, universe-shattering collision.

Simply: it’s sweet. Not just because of the cake, but because he’s never felt this happy being kissed by someone in his life.

He’s embarrassingly breathless when he speaks again. “Yn,” he says, “I promise you that I can’t promise not to break your heart, but I will stay with you. I’ll be there for you as much as I can and I’ll love you with everything I have. I’ll trust you and you’ll trust me and we will talk about things and most of all, I’ll do everything I can so we can be happy. Together.”

Yn smirks. “Good. If you promised not to break my heart I was gonna just break up with you right here.”

. . .

my time, my wine, my spirit, my trust (trying to find a part of me you didn’t take up)

“Are you…nervous right now?”

Mingyu stops momentarily rocking back and forth on his feet to grin back at Yn, frozen with their key in the door handle. “Meeting the fish is the most important step in a relationship, you know?”

Yn scoffs at him, loudly. “You literally meet up with my brother every weekend.”

“Vernon is a better best friend than my actual best friend,” he says, “but you’ll break up with me if your fish don’t like me, won’t you?”

Yn punches his arm for that but they open the door and let him inside, shoes off by the door. With the lights on, the apartment looks pretty much the same as their bookstore, if not with more photos stuck to every open vertical surface. Yn tells him to make himself at home and he can’t help but smile when he spots the jacket he bought them laying on the back of her couch, a picture of their pizza dinner taped above a light switch, and it’s weird how he feels welcomed in a place because there are some pieces of familiarity slipping into it already.

“They are here,” Yn says, standing over by a small table on the other side of the room. The fish tank takes up the whole table and glows green from the back light. They wait until he has his face practically pressed to the glass to point to the two black moor goldfish. “That’s Blue and that’s Red. You forget which one is which and—“

“And I kiss you to make up for it because that’s an impossible challenge,” he supplies. Yn laughs (a win for now).

He invites himself into their kitchen to cook dinner, and it’s sweet until Mingyu trips on thin air and pulls Yn down with him.

“I was breaking your fall,” he manages out.

Yn looks thoroughly unimpressed from where they’re lying on top of his chest, but they don’t make a move to push off his arms wrapped securely around them. They just…stay there and cross their arms so their chin is resting on them, looking down at Mingyu with this ridiculous grin on their face.

“You going to move?” Mingyu asks, amused.

“Nah,” Yn huffs, “I’m settled here.”

Two fish, three more free months until he’s supposed to start filming for Wonwoo’s crime movie as a detective no one believes, four thousand ways he can think about Yn in one single day. It’s simple because they are still figuring things out but the constant is that they like spending time with one another (the kissing is just a mutual benefit, Yn insists). All Mingyu knows is that they read too many books and like to make jokes about his height, and maybe…

Maybe this is a dream he can get used to letting himself live.

#reader x mingyu #seventeen #svt x reader #seventeen x y/n #mingyu #kim mingyu #seventeen fluff

75 notes · View notes

adamwatchesmovies · 11 months

Text

The Rage: Carrie 2 (1999)

While I didn't enjoy this film, that doesn't mean you won't. No matter what I say, the people involved in this project did it: they actually made a movie. That's something to be applauded. With that established...

Why someone would make a sequel to 1976’s Carrie 23 years after the original, I don't know. Even if this had been released at the right time (if such a thing as a right time existed) this is a lazily-conceived, badly made film. The climax is more likely to leave you in hysterics than shivering in terror.

In 1999, outcast Rachel (Emily Bergl) hates life at home thanks to her unloving foster parents. After her best friend Lisa (Mena Suvari) commits suicide, Rachel learns a popular football jock, Eric (Zachery Ty Bryan), feigned love for the dead girl so he could sleep with and then dump her to impress his friends. All the football players are partaking in this game, even the seemingly sweet Jesse (Jason London), on whom Rachel has a crush.

I've omitted two details about this plot to show you how much of a sequel to Carrie it isn’t. The entire film could easily play out without these, leading me to believe (though I can’t prove it) it was written as some other movie and then reworked to tie into the 1976 Brian De Palma film. Technically, The Rage is a follow-up. Amy Irving returns as Sue Snell, now an adult guidance counsellor for Rachel's school. That’s a detail. The real reason this is “a sequel”? Rachel. The young woman has the the same telekinetic powers as Carrie did. With that said, I bet you can predict the entire movie now. The film’s villains are essentially the Spur Posse. Rachel’s going to fall in love with one of them, they’ll have sex, his buddies will ruin everything by telling Rachel it was all a facade, unleashing her titular rage upon them. Cue the blood bath until TRAGEDY! Turns out the love was real. Too bad loads of people are now dead. Too bad for Rachel, I mean. We couldn’t care less about the teens who bit the dust.

While it would’ve left you feeling like you just took a bath in a bucket of grease, this picture might’ve sucessfully told its revenge plot if it had played things smartly. You instantly hate the bad guys so you’re somewhat endeared to Rachel. Unfortunately, writer Rafael Moreau and director Katt Shea fumble this project. Over and over, we're shown clips of the 1976 film. What do they mean? Rachel wasn’t there. These aren’t her memories. Sue wasn’t there either - she left the deadly party before the carnage began. They're included to assure us that there will be blood later and because this film knows otherwise, everyone would leave. While we wait, the picture goes into needless details about Rachel’s powers, explaining their origin in a way that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.

Picture this. Rachel is going to the jock’s post-graduation party. They’re getting ready to dump this film’s equivalent of a bucket of blood on her when they broadcast the secret footage of her and Jesse having sex for everyone to see. Counsellor Sue has been picking away at this nagging feeling that something’s not right with the teenager. She’s found the girl’s insane mother, broken her out of Arkham Asylum and is bringing her to the party so Rachel can understand why she has mutant powers. As they approach the door, Rachel hurls a fire poker at a schoolmate, impaling him through the head. In the process, she kills Sue. The woman’s death is accidental so it doesn’t tell us anything about how intensely Rachel’s rage burns. Left to her own devices, mom barges into the chaotic house to explain to her daughter what’s happening. Too bad the characters haven’t spoken in 13 years. They're lucky they knew who was who! The exchange that follows means NOTHING because their connection isn't emotional, it's technical.

No fan of the original Carrie could watch The Rage and be satisfied with it. No one who hasn’t seen the original should watch this movie instead. The Rage: Carrie 2 is a picture without an audience. It’s got some unintentionally funny moments towards the end when the gore and violence are supposed to appall us but you’ll have checked out long before then. (On VHS, March 5, 2020)

#The Rage: Carrie 2 #movies #films #movie reviews #film reviews #carrie #Katt Shea #Rafael Moreu #Emily Bergl #Jason London #Dylan Bruno #J. Smith-Cameron #Amy Irving #1999 movies #1999 films #horror movies #horror films

3 notes · View notes

fancoloredglasses · 1 year

Text

[RERUN] The Star Wars Holiday Special (May the Farce Be With You)

[All images are owned by Lucasfilm Disney, whether they want them or not. Please don’t sue me]

Much like with Attack of the Killer Tomatoes, this review was one that I feel truly suffered due to not finding many images to work with before I knew how to screencap. It’s also the other of my reviews that one of my followers (who is one of my best friends) thought was too painful to slog through (whether it was due to the walls of text or the subject itself is anyone’s guess)

Therefore, in honor of the holiday season Life Day, I present a RERUN version of my original review (which can be found here)

You’re welcome! Now, on with the review!

Every Christmas season (yes, I know there are other holidays in December, and I would happily acknowledge them if the networks would, but I have only heard of one Hanukkah special and not one Kwanzaa special), the airwaves are flooded with holiday specials dating as far back as the mid 60s. Many are classics, others...not so much (I’m looking at you, He-Man and Pac Man!) However, there is one holiday special that lives on in infamy.

The year was 1978, A New Hope Star Wars was released a year prior and fans worldwide were looking for anything to get their fix until the promised sequel would be released in 1980. What they got was...well...this.

The major characters returned: Luke, Leia, Han, Chewie, R2-D2, C-3P0, Vader (well, clips of Vader from Star Wars, though James Earl Jones did phone in a few new lines of dialogue over the old footage), although they were all regulated to cameo appearances.

[Quick note: Harrison Ford wanted nothing to do with this. Mark Hamill agreed as long as he didn’t have to sing. Carrie Fisher agreed as long as she could sing.]

No, sitting center stage were characters that were sure to at least be supporting characters in the promised sequel (...well, one on the periphery made good on that promise)

You see, someone in their infinite wisdom decided that veteran comedy actors Art Carney (Ed Norton from The Honeymooners), Bea Arthur (the star of the sitcom Maude and future Golden Girl), and Harvey Korman (regular cast member of The Carol Burnett Show, playing three roles in this production) would entice the fans of Star Wars and they would line up to get toys featuring their characters.

The show was never seen on TV again after its initial airing. Fans hated it. George Lucas disavowed its existence, stating he wanted to round up every bootleg copy so he could burn them in effigy.

I remembered enjoying it (but then, my age at this point had not reached double digits), and wondered why it didn’t return the following year. A number of years ago, one of my favorite websites, in their annual celebration of the worst holiday fare (which includes Christmas Comes to Pac-Land, Santa With Muscles, and Santa Claus Conquers the Martians) wrote a review of this program (I admit I may have stolen been inspired by a few of the jokes for this review. I regret nothing!), and I decided it couldn’t be as bad as the site claimed.

It was. Hoo-boy it was! It wasn’t 100% devoid of entertainment, though it certainly doesn’t fall into “so bad it’s good” territory.

While, as of this writing, Disney+ ain’t touching this with a ten-foot lightsaber, you can find it online via several sources. I’m using this one on YouTube.

We open to footage ripped from the movie (we will see that a lot. These guys obviously had very little budget) of the Millennium Falcon being chased by two star destroyers near a planet that looks suspiciously like Tatooine.

Han (who looks like a man who is contractually obligated to be there and just wants to get this over with) is desperately trying to get out of this production Chewie home to his family in time for something called “Life Day” (what, you thought they celebrated Christmas in a galaxy far, far away?), which is an important day in Wookie culture. In fact, it’s so important that it’s never mentioned again in any of the films or television series! Han eventually engages the hyperdrive and the Falcon speeds away and the opening credits roll.

Speaking of the opening credits, we are introduced to Chewbacca’s family for the first (and only) time...

First we have Chewie’s wife, Malla. We know she’s a female Wookie because she’s wearing lipstick.

Next up we have Chewie’s son Lumpy (dear gods I hope that’s short for something or this kid is gonna get the shit kicked out of him in Wookie school) Lumpy has the sort of voice that’s nails-on-the-chalkboard irritating. It doesn’t help that he looks like an overweight Ewok in desperate need of a haircut.

Finally, we have Chewie’s father Itchy, (I swear I’m not making that up!) an ancient Wookie with a serious underbite and an unhealthy love of porn (I wish I was making that up!)

These three are the central characters of this production, and get the majority of screen time. Anyone who has seen any Star Wars film featuring Chewbacca knows how Wookies communicate. Picture repeated conversations over 10 minutes of Wookies talking to one another...with no subtitles.

Anyway, the credits end and we open on a matte painting of a bunch of tree houses that I’m assuming is supposed to be a village on the Wookie planet of Kashyyyk.

We then switch to the inside of one (Chewie’s home...not that he’s ever there with his free-wheeling life as a smuggler keeping him away) where Malla is fixing dinner (wearing an apron. OK, I’ll give that a pass. I wouldn’t want...whatever that is she’s making getting all over my fur either)...

...while Itchy is showing infinite patience by not smacking the hell out of Lumpy (hey, it was the 70s. That kind of stuff still happened) because the kid won’t leave him alone (or shut up) Finally, (I’m assuming...remember, no subtitles) Itchy tells Lumpy to shut the fuck up and leave him alone. Malla tells Lumpy to help her fix dinner...or maybe to take out the trash (again, I’m assuming) Lumpy whines a bit (then again, he always sounds like that) before Itchy yells at him some more and he sulks off to the kitchen.

He doesn’t sulk for long because he spies...cookies? crackers?...some kind of snack and tries to sneak one, but Malla catches him and makes him take the trash out. I’m guessing Chewie must love Lumpy, because he has to be the only reason the rest of the family hasn’t thrown Lumpy over a railing to the forest below yet.

Lumpy them takes (what I’m assuming is) the trash outside and we’re treated to a horrible green-screen effect as Lumpy walks along the matte-painted rail outside his house. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll fall...

Inside (where unfortunately we don’t hear the whiny scream of Lumpy falling to his death), Malla realizes Chewie isn’t home yet, so Itchy consoles her (at least I think that’s what all those growls mean...) Then Lumpy (definitely not a lot flatter) wanders in and bugs Itchy until he manages to shut Lumpy up by letting him watch a holo (even in a galaxy far, far away adults use TV to shut the kids up)

youtube

(Thanks to Robert Angelli)

Finally, Malla has enough of whatever the hell that was and (I’m assuming) tells Lumpy to do the dishes, which causes another whiny tirade from Lumpy...

...while she goes to a computer that looks outdated even by 1970s standards her highly advanced computer system to scan the area for the Millennium Falcon, but to no avail.

She and Itchy then go to another outdated computer a video communicator behind a hidden panel to contact Luke Skywalker (so Luke knows Chewie’s family too? Amazing that we don’t hear more about this in the movies...)

Luke and R2 are fixing an engine from his X-Wing (wouldn’t the Alliance base he was stationed at have a maintenance crew to do that?) They all growl at Luke, wondering where Chewie is. Luke has no clue, but tells Malla to smile (Jesus The Force, Luke! You NEVER tell a female to smile, especially one who could rip your arms off!)

Malla tries another channel, this time to a Kashyyyk trading post manned by Saun Dann (played by Art Carney), who is dealing with an Imperial guard (who obviously got issued a helmet two sizes too large) Since there’s an Imperial, Dann can’t speak plainly, but sorta-kinda tells Malla that Chewie is delayed, but is on his way. Having gotten Malla off the line, Dann offers to sell the Imperial some tiny fish, but he’s not interested. He then shows the Imperial an all-purpose comb and stain-remover. The Imperial is interested, and asks for the give-it-to-me-for-free-or-I'll-call-in-a-raid-and-summary-execution-on-you-and-your-shop discount. Dann “happily” obliges.

Meanwhile, inside the stock footage of an Imperial Star Destroyer, stock footage of Darth Vader tells his aide to go to Kashyyyk and (this is a direct quote) “search every household” for any sign of the Rebellion (I’m assuming that includes Han and Chewbacca) I don’t know about you, but I can’t see Vader saying the word “household”.

Back on Kashyyyk, (what, you thought you’d be able to get away from more Wookie dialogue with no subtitles?) Lumpy has finally finished the dishes (this sure is riveting TV!) and wanders off, leaving Malla to fix the family’s Life Day dinner, so she turns on the TV to watch a cooking show starring...

...a four-armed Harvey Korman doing his less-than-best Julia Child impersonation.

Korman Gormaanda instructs her viewers on how to make Bantha Surprise (the surprise is how much it costs to import a Bantha from Tatooine) I’m sure the writers thought this would be comedy gold, but it’s just painful to watch. And to think, just four years prior, Korman was risking an almost certain Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actor. (sadly, he didn’t get the nomination)

We then switch to stock footage of the Millennium Falcon being attacked by TIE fighters (only this time without Luke manning the guns) Han hopes the fighters will shoot down the Falcon so he can go home, but unfortunately they fare about as well as you’d expect Imperial forces to fare (how the hell did the Empire stay in power as long as they did when this was what typical troops were like?)

Back on Kashyyyk, The Empire has declared martial law and Imperial forces have raided Chewie’s home!

No, wait. It’s only Saun Dann, who offers hope to the family that Han and Chewie will get past the blockade (after all, he could do it...wait, wasn’t he already on Kashyyyk?) He has Life Day gifts for the family.

Malla gets a...sewing machine, I think?

Lumpy gets a...Lego set?

And Itchy gets a video with a bit of “wow! If you know what I mean” (i.e. He brought the dirty old man the family-friendly version of porn). The part of the hologram Mermeia (or, as IMDb dubbed the role “Holographic Wow”) was played by legendary singer/actress Diahann Carroll (who would go on to play Dominique Deveraux of the ABC series Dynasty, but those who watched the USA Network series White Collar will know her as Neil’s landlady June) Say what you will about the shitty writing and production values, but the bit players had star power. The Holographic Wow Mermeia sings a song before doing...whatever it is she does that makes Itchy bounce in his seat like he’s getting his hairballs off.

youtube

(Thanks to Commander FemShep)

Meanwhile, at an undisclosed Alliance...accounting office? (Well, it sure looks like Leia is working on an adding machine...) Leia and 3P0 contact Malla and asks where Chewbacca is. Needless to say, this upsets Malla (you know, I kind of get the feeling that if Chewie doesn’t die at the hands of the Empire, Malla’s gonna kill him!) Leia staggers over to the screen (you know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say Leia was either drunk off her ass or tripping balls...hopefully not Itchy’s) Leia is tired of not having subtitles to find out what Malla is saying and asks to speak to anyone who doesn’t growl. Dann comes to the screen and IDs himself as Alliance deep cover (over an open channel? Good thing the Imperial forces in this sector of the galaxy are fucking idiots) and promises to keep an eye on things until Chewie arrives.

Once again we’re treated to more stock footage as the Falcon approaches Yavin with a heavy green filter Kashyyyk, but Han realizes the Empire has the planet blockaded, so tries to phone in come up with a plan. Han manages to find a lightly-guarded section of the planet and lands, though some distance from Chewie’s village.

The Falcon’s approach is loud enough to alert the family, so they rush to greet...

(what, you thought this would be over that quickly? There’s still almost an hour to go!)

The troopers’ commander (who apparently got his helmet from the same outfitter as the last one) informs the officer in charge (who has way too much swagger for someone roped into being in this production) that there should be one more Wookie than is currently home. Dann thinks quickly and fast talks the officer a hell of a lot better than anything Han could do.

The Imperials try interrogating Lumpy, who’s having none of it, which almost starts an armed confrontation! (like Stormtroopers could hit them. I mean, they’re at point-blank range! There’s no way they’d make that shot!) Fortunately, Dann sorta-kinda defuses the situation and tries to run interference on the troops by turning on the video player he gave Malla (you mean that wasn’t a sewing machine?)

...and we’re “treated” to a very forgettable performance by Jefferson Starship (well, their band name is kinds sci-fi-ish, but who knew the band traced its roots back a long time ago?)

Eventually, the troops decide they’ve paid Carney enough grow tired of Dann’s rambling and shoo him away so they can actually do their job. Lumpy doesn’t want the troops in his room (why not? If he’s a typical kid, it’s not like the Empire tossing his room would make it look any worse) and tries to stop them, but gets thrown aside (those guys must work out!) Itchy’s family bonds win out over common sense (I mean, if the troops blast Lumpy then no one has to hear his whining again) and he tries to protect Lumpy, but gets the same treatment. The officer warns Malla to calm her family down or Bad Things will happen (like what? They’ll force the family to watch this production?)

Malla has Lumpy sit at a video player (how many of those things does this house have? Counting the communicator and computer, I’ve counted 6 so far!) and watch...

youtube

(Thanks to SWarchives)

Yes, it’s the first ever appearance of Boba Fett!

Once the troopers are done tossing Lumpy’s room, he goes up to assess the damage. Seeing it’s no worse than before, he goes to his Lego set, which is actually a do-it-yourself transmitter kit (so 7 video screens...or 8 if you count the screen explaining how to assemble the kit)

Speaking of the assembly instructions, they are given by Harvey Korman, playing a very glitchy robot.

Meanwhile, the troopers downstairs watch a program (don’t they have other “households” to search?) showing the cantina at Mos Eisley for some reason.

...where we see yet another character player my Harvey Korman (apparently he works cheap. And to think, three years prior he won his fourth straight Golden Globe for Best Supporting Actor in a TV Series) as Krelman, a being that looks like a volcano with hair.

...who apparently drinks through the hole in the top of his head. He has apparently decided today is the day he will woo the girl of his dreams...

...the bartender Ackmena, played by Bea Arthur. However, Ackmena is having none of it and is trying to politely brush him off (while still getting him to buy drinks...I mean, she is a businesswoman)

Eventually, the night is cut short as the Imperial official (who is the same official who announced the blockade on Kashyyyk...guess all those celebrities don’t come cheap), so Ackmena has to close the cantina...in to the tune of the Cantina Theme

youtube

(Thanks again to Robert Angelli)

I will say, I would not want a steady diet of Bea Arthur’s not-quite-melodious singing, but this somehow works for me, and is probably the second most entertaining thing in this program so far (the first being the cartoon)

Back on Kashyyyk, the Imperials get orders to return, but the officer has one of the troopers remain to catch Chewie when he comes home. After the Imperials leave, the recall order is still being heard.

It turns out Lumpy is transmitting the order from his new computer (that he somehow managed to build despite Harvey Korman’s instructions) The trooper stationed doesn’t think forging Imperial orders is that funny and smashes the computer (great, so now we have to hear Lumpy whine some more) and chases after Lumpy to either blast him or beat the shit out of him (I’d be OK with either, but given the accuracy of the average Stormtrooper, the latter might be more effective)

Fortunately(?) Han and Chewbacca show up and do to the trooper what the rest of us have been wanting anyone to do to Lumpy (throw him over the rail to the forest far below)

Han and Chewie then go inside for a completely phoned-in and emotionless heart-felt reunion with Chewie’s family. All too soon (or not soon enough, if you’re Harrison Ford) Han needs to get back to where he stashed the Falcon, leaving Chewie to have a touching (if fairly awkward-looking...almost like Malla and Chewie had no clue how Wookies would express affection) family moment before there’s a knock on the door.

Expecting the worst, Chewie readies his bowcaster and opens the door, but it’s just Saun Dann looking to pad his paycheck a bit clean up Han’s mess by fabricating a story to the Imperial official about the trooper going rogue and giving the Empire a worse name than they already have. Somehow, the official buys this story (maybe Luke and Ben should have hired Dann instead of Han to rescue the Leia from the Death Star)

We are then...treated? to a scene that is sure be treasured annually on television for years to come: the Wookie Life Day ritual.

...which apparently involved dressing in red robes (sure, why not?) and walking through space into a white hole. I’m sure this is supposed to be symbolic of something, but I don’t speak Wookie so I have no clue.

On the other side of the white hole, the Wookies are hanging out in some sort of bog, where they are joined by Han, Luke, Leia, 3P0, and R2 (of the group, Han makes the most sense as Chewie’s family treats him as one of theirs, but the droids? They’re not even alive! How can they celebrate Life Day?) Leia still looks drugged to the gills as she sings a song to the tune of the Star Wars theme.

youtube

(Thanks to The Movie Dump)

I personally would rather hear Bea Arthur’s singing than Carrie Fisher’s.

We then are treated to a bunch of clips from Star Wars featuring Chewie, (to remind us of when these guys were awesome instead of what we’re seeing here)

...followed by the traditional Life Day meal of Bantha Surprise (imported from Tatooine) as we fade out.

Happy Life Day everyone!

#star wars #art carney #Bea Arthur #Harvey Korman #Diahann Carroll #boba fett #life day #i hate reruns #Fan Colored Glasses

0 notes

cipheress-to-k-pop · 3 years

Text

A Sister's Love

Pairing: Platonic Damian Wayne x Al Ghul!Reader

Warnings: Injuries and blood. Drugging, Trafficking and sexual assult but these are not the main themes.

Word Count: 4.9K

Summary: You realize you have a lot to learn about yourself outside of your little brother, Damian's, shadow.

A/N: Was originally gonna make this a Dick Grayson x Reader but realized it would be weird cuz of mixed families and stuff. And I don't wanna be pushing the boundaries of incest.

Growing up in the League of Assassins meant a lot of things for you. It meant that you were raised to be powerful and commanding. It meant you knew how to kill a man in 47 different ways and counting. It meant that you were raised to rightfully think that you were the best.

Although for every good thing there was always cons. Your schedule was rigid and your peers were unfeeling. Your mother most of all, but that didn't stop you from trying to win her affection. It was the reason why when your little brother was born you felt threatened.

That was until you met little Damian. Your mother had handed him to you with a smile of pride that she never showed you and you hated him. But then you saw his precious little face, a nose tinier than a button and adorable lips that were curled into a pout. He was so beautiful.

Since then, you put any differences you might have had with your mother behind you. According to Ra’s it would have been a mistake to show Damian such tenderness, to teach him about loyalty to your heart, instead of without it.

But Talia couldn't ignore the tug she felt in her heart seeing you and Damian together. You still worked hard, harder than she had ever seen before, now determined not to show that you were weak and have them take your brother from you. Damian followed your example, training to her approval, however taxing it was for him.

And more importantly, Damian loved you. You were the first woman he had ever loved and he was smart enough to know that would never be a mistake. You were his shelter in a storm, his fire in the cold. You were the best sibling that anyone could ever even dream of.

But then you had to part. At age 10, Damian went to live with his father, Bruce Wayne. You had never met the man when he was with your mother and you assumed you wouldn't need to, he wasn't your father.

Both you and Damian didn't want to leave each other. You'd miss your little brother and you'd miss the feeling in your chest whenever you'd look at him. Damian would miss home; he would miss your presence and he would miss the familiarity. But he couldn't stay.

That's something you learnt at the League. Damian couldn't stay, with you. He was meant for bigger things than you.

Another thing you learnt was that you didn't have to stay either. You wanted to see the world, see what everything else had in store for you. And your mother, bless her, gave you her blessing.

Of all the things the league taught you, there were things they missed out on. And a part of you was thankful for that. Because you enjoyed the feeling of wide-eyed wonderment when you stepped into a train station for the first time ever.

You had never tasted a chocolate muffin before, you realized as you stuffed your face at a local bakery. Coffee and chocolate muffins went well together. You liked sweet things better than spicy things, you noted when you didn't enjoy the tteokbokki you bought at a Korean food stall.

People were kind, not foolish. They smiled at you when you came in and genuinely asked you where you were headed. Like the woman you met on the tram who was heading to Washington DC. Even through the short ride, the two of you had bonded and she had left you with her phone number and a promise that if you were ever in DC, you would ring her up. Diana was trusting, too trusting. You could have assumed it was because she was stupid, but you wanted to believe it was because she was smarter than even you.

Some people were kind like her but of course, some were impolite and pig-headed. You of course didn't waste any time putting them in their place. Maybe that was why you shouldn't have any faith in humanity.

But isn't humanity just the thing you should be putting faith in?

It was fun at first, discovering new things, seeing how people really lived outside of books and things taught to you back at the League. You knew everything, you weren't naive enough to be oblivious but reading about something was miles apart from actually experiencing it.

After a while however, you got lonely, it was a huge world with people constantly moving and you've come to realize that unless you're with somebody, you can't really move from your place. Instead, you'd be stuck watching all of them. So, you sought after your brother.

It was easy enough to track Bruce Wayne, he lived in a house large enough to be seen from outer space. Getting to Gotham took longer than you expected. Time passed so easily when you didn't have a purpose but now that you had somewhere you needed to be, the train couldn't go any slower.

Gotham City was less gloomy than people made it out to be. The sun was shining and the city was bustling. In some ways, it seemed a little homey. Maybe that was because you didn't have to worry about someone hurting you. If anything, they should pray that they don't choose you as their next victim.

Of course, you could've gone to Wayne Manor and introduced yourself civilly but you wanted to see Damian more than anything and didn't want to delay it any longer. And more than that, you wanted to see Damian is his cute little school uniform.

That's what led you to wait outside of the well-reputed Gotham University, waiting patiently for the bell to ring and students to file out of it. You already knew that they wouldn't come out singing like in the movies but a very small fraction of you still hoped.

Your heartrate increased with every passing minute, excited to meet your brother after nearly a year of being apart. Eventually, the bell did ring and students began trickling out of the doors, looking like bumble bees, excitedly zipping around and talking to their friends.

'Would this have been my life if I was never born in the League?' You wondered, looking at a girl who was animatedly chatting with her friend, arms interlocked as they moved towards the parking lot where their parents were waiting.

When you finally saw Damian, you suddenly felt out of place. Like an outsider watching someone else's brother when you saw his eyes lock onto someone in the commons. Even though you weren't on the school campus, you could still recognize who it was.

Richard Grayson, oldest son of Bruce Wayne, waiting to pick up your little brother on a motor cycle.

And for the first time in your life, you experienced insecurity, watching them greet each other like brothers. The feeling was sour and you wondered if it was a mistake coming here, thinking that you still had a place here.

It was true, people didn't move from their place unless they had someone to go with. You hadn't felt fulfilled like that since your brother stopped being at your side. He was everything you knew. It was just your mistake for thinking that in the year apart your brother wouldn't have found anyone either.

***

"Drake, pull up the security cameras from today at my school parking lot." Damian ordered, stepping into the Batcave.

"No 'Hello', no 'How you doing?', it's always 'Tim, do this' 'Drake, do that'," Tim commented sarcastically but still pulled up whatever he needed, "And then as soon as I give you what I want, you're going to forget me again. And not even visit the kids."

Dick spared him a laugh at his dramatic scene, ruffling his hair as greeting and then turned his attention to the screen. The footage was played at double the speed until Damian's eyes locked onto just what he wanted to find.

It was just for a second, when Dick's motorcycle had zoomed past but that was all he needed. Damian had seen your face and it wasn't any mistake, he'd know you even if he was blind. Even though he was so sure it had been you, he still couldn't hide the way his body froze, eyes wide when he saw your face.

It was the same face he'd see every night before he went to bed and the very first person he wanted to see every time he woke up. Your image was what came into his mind when he thought of being nurtured, when he thought of being safe.

There was a time when he was younger, too young, there was a thunder storm. He doesn't remember much from the night, just hiding his face against your chest and you wrapping a blanket around him. His mother trained him even harder the next day, until he almost dropped but he'd never forget curling up to your warmth. Not even now, when he knew that thunder storms were the least of his fears.

It was as simple as that. With his father and brothers, he didn't have to worry about looking weak, he didn't think of love as a weakness, rather he considered it as the fuel behind strength. Yes, his father taught him well. And now he would show you just how much he's grown. So, you can be proud of him.

"We need to find her."

"Why? Who is she?"

"My sister."

***

Of all the things you wanted to experience, visiting a bar was one of them. Was the air really enough to intoxicate you? Were you really going to lose all sense when you stepped into it? Would be able to drink your troubles away?

You were sorely disappointed. The alcohol didn't taste good, it burned when you swallowed it and made your tongue feel fuzzy. The music was so loud that your brain began throbbing against your skull to the beat of the song.

Men were picking fights and women were having fun but even then, you couldn't find it in yourself to get up and actually have fun. I mean, how were you supposed to? How was cosying up against a drunk man supposed to make you feel better? How was getting lost in throngs of sweaty people who didn't know what personal space was meant to improve your mood?

If anything, it just reminded you of just how pathetic your life was.

You were realizing you had no purpose. Damian was all you had known for years now, knowing only to protect him with your life and love him with your heart. Who were you without him? What did you like? What made you happy outside from your duty at the league?

A man knocking into you brought you out of your thoughts, which had been happening all night. Except this man stopped in front of you and gave you a smile that turned your stomach upside down.

"Sorry about that pretty lady, let me buy you a drink to make up for it." He spoke with a voice that was trying to be smooth but instead sounded like metal scraping over each other.

"No, thank you." You said sharply, not yet done with your Manhattan anyway. You were barely enjoying your time here as it was and you were sure another drink wouldn't change your mind.

"Not a fan?"

You shook your head at him, choosing to humour the man.

"Then let me buy you another one, if you don't like it then you have nothing to lose."

You pretended to giggle at him and he swelled with pride. Did he think he was winning?

"One Boulevardier." He told the bartender who nodded and began preparing the drink. Until it was ready, you indulged the man in front of you who reeked of cigarettes and alcohol.

He placed the drink in front of you and if you hadn't known that it would burn going down and turn you into a shell of yourself, you might have been curious to what it tasted like.

"You see that dude over there?" He nodded to a man standing in the other corner of the bar and you turned to look at him. Another man, covered in tattoos who didn't look any different than the one standing behind you.

"He's my pal, owns the bar. Ask him and he'll hook you up with free drinks tonight. For a price, of course."

You turned back around to face the man and out of the corner of your eye saw something dissolve into your drink. It was only for a second but you saw the last remaining grains turn invisible and you definitely noticed the way the once steady drink was now swirling into a vortex in the middle.

"Drink up, princess."

You smirked. Tonight, might be fun after all.

***

This was boring.

You had been pretending to be unconscious for about 40 minutes while these men drove you to some undisclosed location. Their conversations were unbelievably dry and it's not like you had anyone else to talk to. Everyone else who might have been even mildly interesting were knocked unconscious.

Eventually they pulled up to some sort of holding facility and if your assumptions were correct then this would be a midpoint before they sold all the girls here to some sort of pimp.

Once they lugged you off the truck and threw you into a room with so many other people, you could hear their breathing did you open your eyes. It seemed like this was some sort of abandoned butcher or meat factory, judging by the ominous hooks hanging above your head and the metal walls. The door had been bolted shut, the only way to look through it was a small glass window.

Only after you finished taking in your surroundings did you even look at the other women who had been trapped in the room along with you. Your stomach turned.

There were so many unsuspecting faces who looked like they didn't sign up for this. Half of them looked under the influence of something, sweating profusely even in their sleep, faces scrunched up in pain. The other looked like they were forcibly taken, bruises covering their skin, hair and clothes in disarray and more than half of them had either a black eye or a swollen lip.

Maybe it was their fault for not being trained, that's what someone at the league would've said. But isn't it their captors’ fault for misusing their training, their strength, for something as vile as this?

You decided to wait, you couldn't assume that this small group of girls was the only one in the confines of the building. How many more were here?

You weren't feeling overwhelmed, not at all, not with the weapons that were littering you. A kunai hidden is either of your boots, throwing stars in your pockets hidden underneath your vest and a war fan in your pocket. You could handle these clowns without even looking up.

But it wasn't your life you were concerned about. It was the lives of these underaged, vulnerable girls who had fallen prey to these monsters.

While you were waiting a couple of the girls started to wake up. Some were still heavily drugged, still groggy when their eyes fluttered open and unable to focus onto anything. Others shot up straight as an arrow and began crying, screaming, begging for them to let them out.

They were ignored, by both their captors and you. Why try and reassure then when you weren't sure what was going to happen. More importantly, why throw off the monsters lurking outside the door that there was one woman who hadn't been phased.

Instead, you just stared blankly, trying to get comfortable and hear anything through the walls. Eventually, you heard the sound of footsteps coming towards the room. You covered the lower half of your face with a scarf, making sure that anyone who left here alive today, wouldn't be able to remember your face. Whether it be as a saviour or their punisher.

The girls whimpered and curled into one another, crying quietly and you felt sympathy. There was no way they'd be able to move forward from this without having fear stab at their heart with every step they took. You could only hope they had something in their life that would make them feel safe.

For tonight, you'd be that for them.

A few men opened the door with a cruel smile, stepping inside for a second before bolting it shut. They flaunted guns and other weapons to the girls, finding pleasure where there should be compassion and worry. You were disgusted watching their smirks twist maniacally when the girls cried harder seeing them brandish their weapons.

One of the men stepped forward and grabbed the girl closest to him who begged and cried to spare her. His disgusting hand might as well be made of acid because you almost felt the sick burn when it snaked between her legs and copped a feel while she sobbed and screamed, trying to fight him off.

You grabbed one of your weapons and returned their sick grins with one of your own.

It was going to be hard to cop a feel when he can't feel anything.

You were going to break each and every bone in his hand to ensure that.

***

"Can I borrow your phone please?" You asked the bloody and broken man by your feet. He glared at you and spat blood on your boots, unable to do anything else. You sighed and faked a pout.

"Is it here?" You wondered, holding the dirtied boot over his ribs and his eyes widened, catching drift of what you were about to do. You rammed your foot into his broken ribs, courtesy of yourself, and he screamed bloody murder. Music to your ears.

"Apparently not. Want me to check your pants?" You asked, raising a brow and he frantically shook his head, using whatever strength left to pull out his phone from his pocket and you smiled, thanking him quietly.

"Now, let's hope that one blow is enough to put you out of my misery." You sang, punching him right in the face and he passed out. Lightweight.

You took a look around the place, seeing bodies littered over the place like confetti. Blood was scattered on the ground and you're sure if people looked hard enough, they'd find someone's teeth. You on the other hand looked fine.

You sat on the floor, crossing your legs comfortably, tired after the fight and dialled a number onto the phone.

"Hello, police?"

"Yes, how can we help you?"

"Well, there's a sex trafficking scam going on at my location. Quite shoddy but they have a number of women trapped here and it would be nice if you could send backup to have them escorted home safely."

"A sex trafficking scam?"

"Well, it could be just a regular trafficking scam but I'm not too sure."

"All right, I'll have someone check it out."

"Good, and I realize you might get a lot of calls like this but please don't talk to me like I'm an idiot. Tell your people to send a couple of ambulances as well, you'll need them."

"Of course."

You could only hope the person on the other end of the line would eat their words when it was on the front of the newspaper. For now, your work was done.

In the meantime, how were you going to get anywhere from here? Where even were you? Was there anyone even conscious here who could give you directions? Or would you have to call the police again to find out where to go?

Not that you'd wait long enough for them actually arrive here. You'd return to the bar way before that for another drink. Maybe now you'd actually be able to enjoy one.

Just as you were about to leave, you heard a creak coming from the other end of the warehouse. It echoed through the halls and you leapt to your feet, soundless moving to hide in the shadows and pulling out a kunai.

The footsteps that followed it were light and airy, barely even touching the ground. They were trained, whoever they were. You kept your ears open in order to hear something.

"Whoever was here was trained." You heard someone comment.

"Are you really that stupid, Nightwing? It's obvious that my sister was the one who took out this ring and reported it." Came the snappy reply back and your breath caught in your chest. Make no mistake, that was your brother's voice.

"We must find her."

He was actually looking for you? He knows you're here? You're not entirely surprised, you haven't exactly been careful or stealthy when it came to concealing your face around Gotham. A mistake on your part but you couldn't have been more relieved.

You still remained quiet, not wanting to disturb the flow, not wanting to interrupt. You had the mind of a soldier but when there was no one to follow you seemed more like a sheep. It made you feel slight shame, that you were unable to stick up for yourself despite being so many things.

Maybe, the league wasn't the best thing for you.

Immediately you scraped the thought from your mind, berating yourself for even thinking that. The league had given you everything, everything you were today was because of them. You were strong and calculating, the leagues proud soldier.

You were proud of your roots, thankful that you grew up to be the person you were. They had given you everything, and your brother was just one of the gifts that you had been blessed with in your life.

"Damian." You spoke softly, stepping out of the shadows. His head snapped towards you, eyes widening when he took in your form. It really was you. His sister.

Damian wasted no time in bounding towards you and you knelt down to meet his eye level, catching him with open arms. A part of your heart sang when you realized he was still small enough to fit in your arms. He still held you close. He still loved you.

"I've missed you, Ya Amar." You spoke softly, cradling his head that was buried in the junction of your neck.

"I as well, Okhti."

***

Damian was ecstatic that you were in Gotham. Of course, it didn't look like it to anyone but everyone who knew him well could tell that he was happy that his sister was home with him. He didn't wait for even two seconds when you got to the Batcave (much to Bruce's surprise) to show you all his pets.

The next few days would be considered the best of his life.

Damian wanted to be as close to you as possible, sitting near you during meals, training with you, talking with you, even going as far to sneak into your temporary bedroom at night for cuddles. He certainly got more comfortable showing affection since the last time you were around.

He showed you his hobbies like painting and sketching and you were impressed. He had the skills to be doing something like this? Damian had picked up many new talents and many new stories since you last saw him and he was eager to share them all with you.

The next few days would be considered the worst of your life.

You had found Damian now, so why didn't you still feel fulfilled? Why did you feel like something was missing? Like this wasn't meant for you? Why weren't you satisfied?

Why did you feel envious that Damian got to experience so many things? Why did you feel resentment against him when you realized you never got the same things he has?

Your life felt like it amounted to nothing.

You loved your brother but so far you had just been living for him. And now that you realized there were parts of the world that you wanted to see. There were thoughts in your mind that were of your own and desires that you didn't have to explain to anyone. As long as it made sense to yourself.

And you realize one thing with an aching heart.

You couldn't stay here in Gotham.

"Does Damian know?" Bruce asked you one day when you had asked him a favour. Bruce so far had been a little cold and unfeeling ever since you had met him in the Batcave uninvited. His feelings towards you got more negative when you gave an offhanded comment about how you thought he was taller. But he was the only one you could ask for a favour. He was the father to your beloved brother and you could only hope he would offer you the same consideration.

You had asked him for a flight to Washington, to see if Diana really meant what she said. To take a leap of faith for the first time in your life.

You shook your head no, "Not yet. I'm hoping he will take the news well. It's not like I'm leaving forever. I just—I need to—" You trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Bruce nodded, "I understand. Just tell him before you go. I don't think I've ever seen him this happy before."

"It makes me feel worse." You admitted, feeling a little guilty. How could you not feel happy at your brother’s happiness?

"You need some time to figure out that your world is yours. No one else should determine how you feel about yourself."

"You are very wise," You said softly, "Thank you."

***

"I love you dearly, Damian." You tried to coerce him from his room where he had locked himself in only 5 minutes ago. No doubt he was sulking since he found out that you would be leaving for DC in two days’ time.

"If you did, you wouldn't be leaving!" His voice was muffled, as if his face was buried in his pillow or even Titus. You had been trying to coax him into open the door for 20 minutes now and had multiple offers from Grayson, which you turned down.

"Oh, for the love of—Damian Wayne, you open this door right now!" It was silent for a moment before you heard the lock click open and took that as the indication from him to step into his room.

It was large and from the moment you stepped in, it was easy to tell the space was his. There were swords mounted on the wall, paintings on the wall adjacent to it. His desk was tidy and in the corner of his room, there were multiple easels and sketch pads.

Damian was sulking on his bed and you sighed, feeling guilty. You sat beside him and ran your fingers through his hair. Even though he was upset with you, he still sank into your touch, feeling comforted by mere contact.

"It's not forever, Damian. Wherever I'm going, I'm going to come back. I just need some time to myself." You tried to explain.

"But why!"

"The league taught me well, Damian. But it taught me to live like a soldier, but not as a person. There are so many things that I don't know about myself. What do I like? What do I want to do with my life? And I need to figure it out for myself."

"Why can't you do that here?"

You gave him a pained look and realization dawned on him, "Because of me."

"Damian, in the time we spent apart you learnt so many things about yourself. That you like animals, that you like art. There are so many blanks in my life and I need the distance to figure it out. I need to understand myself." You explained wistfully.

It was true, there were so many blanks in your life. You didn't even know what food you liked better, what hobbies you enjoyed. You wanted to experience new things, without the influence of Damian, without relying on him. And more importantly, you were scared you would put Damian above yourself time and time again.

It was all you knew. Damian was worth more than your life, worth more than your heart. But if that was true, you wanted to know at least what your heart was worth to you. If you didn't hold any value to yourself, it would be foolish to think you would to anyone else.

You needed the distance. You needed something new. You wanted to dive into uncharted waters and figure out the magic for yourself, without anyone to help you.

"It's not forever," You reminded gently, "I'm going to come back, I can promise you that."

Damian began leaning until his head was settled in your lap and you chuckled, gently scratching his scalp and he nestled into your belly. Hard to believe this was the same boy who left only a year ago. You wondered if you would change as much as he did or if you were stuck in your ways now.

"Okay," He said, voice muffled and you smiled, "I hope you find what you're looking for."

"Thank you for your blessing, Ya Amar. It means the world to me. I love you; you know that."

"I do." He said, now wrapping his arms around your waist, "I love you too."

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

2K notes · View notes

intercoursefluids · 3 years

Text

The Impromptu Sleepover Part 1

“Alright! The adults are asleep what do you guys want to do?”

Alya being Alya, decided to take over the sleepover to celebrate Marinette’s friends finally realizing (or in most cases finally speaking up) about Lila’s lies.

“Swordfight!”

“Movie Marathon!”

“Let’s play truth or dare!”

Different ideas all resound from the girls currently huddled in Marinette’s room, all the boys trying to pretend they didn’t exist.

Only nine people were there, Adrien had wanted to come to the sleepover, but his dad wouldn’t let him.

These 10 were the only ones from her class to come back to her and apologize once they realized who the real victim was.

Marinette almost couldn’t believe her eyes when Alix, Alya, Kagami, Chloe, Nino, Kim, Max, Nathaniel, and Marc came up to her asking for her back.

The only ones who had actually believed Lila’s lies were Alya, Max, and Nathaniel but the others still apologized for not speaking out for her.

This group apology and cry session that immediately followed ended up with them holding a sleepover to celebrate their reconnection.

One thing Marinette forgot about though. Was the fact that Chat Noir would come to hang out with her on Fridays.

Which is why, when pebbles started hitting her window. She damn near had a heart attack when everyone else noticed immediately stopping their conversations.

“Mari, Love, Darling dearest. Who, might I ask, is throwing pebbles at your window?”

Every single one of her friends look at her with shit-eating grins as Kim blinks up innocently at her like he didn't just confirm for everyone there was in fact someone outside throwing a rock at her window.

Persistently.

With a deep sigh, Marinette grabs a lightsaber and spray bottle from the back of her closet.

"Alya, I am giving you permission to film this. I am NOT, however, to post this to any social media, and no one except for those in this room are to ever see the footage unless I give explicit permission otherwise. Understand?"

Alya nods frantically pulling out her phone as she and Marinette climb up to the balcony.

"Oh, Romeo Oh Romeo. Where art tho Romeo?"

Chat Noirs sarcastic call sounds from below with a bouquet of Alstroemeria, Amaryllis, and Blue Irises.

Alya hides behind the railing, just out of Chat Noir's sight as she films the interaction.

With a deep sigh, Marinette turns to Chat with regret and sorrow written all across her face, making Chat pause.

"Princess? What's the matter-"

"I'm sorry Chat Noir. But it's over."

The stricken look on his face almost makes Marinette feel sorry for him.

Almost.

"I don't understand? Did I do something wrong?"

With another deep sigh, Marinette runs a hand over her face.

"It's over Chat."

Faking tears, Marinette ever so slowly pulls the lightsaber from behind her back turning it on making the red illuminate half her face.

"I have the high ground."

Marinette sniffles for good measure as Alya finally catches on. Turning her phone back to Chat to see him looking like he was about to cry before it finally clicks.

His face goes blank as he stares up at one of his best friends.

"I hate you so much."

Marinette cackles as he pulls out his baton, stretching up to her balcony to be face to face with her.

"I can't believe that guy calls you 'Angel'. Your halo hides your horns too well and- Ladyblogger? What are you doi- Eep!"

He cuts off abruptly as Marinette squirts him in the face with the spray bottle making him reel back with a yowl.

In his haste to get away, he knocks himself off balance starting to fall over backward until Marinette grabs his bell yanking him forward.

"Okay, that is it! I'm going home and I'm telling Ladybug you're picking on me."

Marinette wheezes, trying to get her breath back and just giving up. Climbing down her skylight to collapse in a pile of giggles.

Chat and Alya both follow her down. Alya pushing her off her bed so Kim has to catch her before she hits the floor.

"Please Alya. PLEASE, tell me you got his reaction on film."

Alya smirks showing the video currently saving to her phone.

"Of course I did. Now we have a new guest here now assuming that Chat wants to stay for the sleepover."

Chat's eyes widen, looking every part the excited kitten.

"Can I?! I've never been to a sleepover before!"

All of the girls gasp in horror, surrounding Chat as they search through drawers and Marinette's closet.

Marinette, always one step ahead, runs to chat.

"Go in the bathroom, detransform put these on, and come back out. I'm assuming your Kwami eats camembert cheese since you constantly smell like it. I swear no one here is going to find out your identity or even try if they don't want me to put them on blast with all of the dirt I have on them. Now go!"

Chat is shoved into the bathroom, the door slamming shut behind him. Doing as he is told in fear of Marinette, Chat detransforms catching Plagg as he cackles in the air.

"Oh, I like her! She'd make a great kitten, with how easy it is for her to cause chaos, just how I like it!."

Shaking his head at his cackling Kwami as he got dressed. Putting the mask Marinette made him on trying it securely around his head. Stepping out to find Marinette coming back with a LARGE tray of food and everyone else huddled around Alya's phone.

Chat can't help the startled yelp he lets out when Alix pulls him down to her, gently petting his hair as she glares at Marinette.

"You're a monster Marinette. How could you do that to him?! Look at his face! His little baby face! He looked heartbroken!"

Marinette snorts at the playful scolding.

"Let him go, Alix. Go find your own stray."

Alix snorts as Marinette pulls a blushing Chat to her hugging him close. Marinette sits down dragging him with her as he buries his face in her hair. Too embarrassed to speak.

He doesn't have a babyface. Does he?

"Awe come on Mari, you found the cutest one the least you could do is share him!"

Everyone laughs as Kim makes a grab for Chat just for Marinette to pull him closer to her.

"Noooooo, this is MY alley cat! Go find your own!"

Chat Noir would never admit how hard he had to fight down his purr when Marinette started petting his hair.

You know. Before he lost that battle and a purr sounded loudly through his chest.

"Please stop. It's not fair and you're embarrassing me. Mariiiiii! Stooooooop."

Everyone laughs when Chat complains for Marinette to stop, even as he starts to melt into a puddle on her lap.

"One of these days I'm going to tell M'lady on you and she's gonna dangle you from the Eiffel Tower."

Now, under normal circumstances, everyone would be worried, but it's hard to be serious when one of Paris's superheroes is melted in a puddle in your friend's lap with a purr so loud it's hard to understand him.

"I'm pretty sure Ladybug would dangle YOU from the Eiffel Tower for being in a girls room this late, without letting her parents know. Even more, so that you detransformed in front of us. Still want to tell Ladybug on Marinette?"

Everyone turns to Marc, Nathaniel's adorable spouse as they radiate badassery.

Chat's purr stutters before starting up just as loudly again.

"I will no longer be telling M'lady."

Marinette snorts leaning back on her chaise as Chat adjusts himself so he's laying between her legs with his head on her stomach. Facing the rest of the class as Marinette plays with his hair.

"Are you guys dating?"

"Of course they are Cesaire. Ridiculous-!"

"Utterly ridiculous!" "Ew! No!"

Are the two different responses that cut Chloe off. The group finishing Chloe's catchphrase as Marinette and Chat Noir look at the rest of the class in disgust.

"Okay, first of all. Chat what the HELL do you mean 'ew'? Marinette is a babe, and everyone in this room has had a crush on her at least once before. How dare you say 'ew' like you would never date her you would be incredibly lucky if she even considered you."

Alya states with a finger in Chat's face.

Alix, Alya, Kagami, Chloe, Max, Kim, Nathaniel, Marc, and Nino all looking incredibly offended for Marinette even as she blushes and tries to hide her face.

"Guys, stop! And what do you mean all of you? Half of you are dating each other!"

Chat snickers at her distress, pulling out his burner phone and snapping a picture of her face.

"Okay, there may or may not be a literal 'Queen Marinette Club" or 'QMC' for short. We even have several social media accounts dedicated to giving you the credit you deserve. Before you ask this started that one time we went to Gotham and you answered all of the Riddler's riddles and yelled at Nightwing and Robin for their poor fashion choices and called Batman a furry when he tried to stop you."

Surprisingly Nathaniel is the one who answers instead of Alya as she pulls out her phone.

"We didn't even start the club! It was some people in Gotham who did. Max is the one who found out about it."

Sweet Marc, sweet sweet Marc never knowing when to stop before Marinette popped a blood vessel from blushing so hard.

"Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, Cat Woman, The Riddler, the entire Batfamily (Batman included), and even some of the Waynes follow the accounts. Not to mention the other celebrities you've befriended like Mr. Stone and Ms. Nightingale."

Max reads off of his phone, seemingly proud of Marinette's followers.

"Even my mom follows you, Mari. That says something."

Chat looks up cackling as Marinette tries to suffocate herself with a pillow, Plagg rolling around on her hair as he clutches his stomach.

"Dang! Pigtails has some, what's it called? Clout! You're famous, kitten!"

Marinette whimpers from behind the pillow, her face practically radiating heat.

Chat snorts before turning back to the group.

"Number one I am well aware that Marinette is awesome and that I would be the luckiest man in the world to have her as my girlfriend. However, she's basically my little sister, same as Ladybug. Sorry to burst your bubble, Alya. Number two, she already has a boyfriend, has for a little over a year now, and he scares me. I am not testing if I really have nine lives cause he would take all of them. Number three, can you show me the 'QMC' accounts I want to follow them."

The room is silent as Marinette glares at Chat.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that? Princess? It's not like this is new informa-! They didn't know did they?"

Marinette reaches under her, pulling out a very nice-looking dagger from under the cushions of her chaise.

"Say goodbye to eight of your lives Chat. I need a new black fur hat."

Chat yelps scampering away from Marinette on all fours as she lunges for him with Plagg chasing after them laughing.

They keep running around the room until they pass Kim and he reaches out and grabs Marinette, trapping her in his arms.

"Okay, nice knife. Not sure where you got it nor do I want to know. Second of all, what's this about a boyfriend?"

Everyone surrounds her as Alix pulls the dagger from her hands putting it back under the cushions.

"Why haven't we heard of any boyfriend? Are you out of your mind?"

Alya's calm tone is very misleading as Chat hides behind her.

"He didn't want anyone to know just in case people claim for me to be a gold digger. Scratch that, I didn't want anyone to know so he didn't get sued for assault if anyone called me a gold digger and he found out."

Chat snorts.

"Yeah, you, definitely a gold digger. You know, since you didn't even realize who he was for the first 5 or 6 months of your relationship."

Marinette's glare does nothing as a blush covers her face.

"We don't speak of it Chat. I can and will still skin you."

Everyone looks at Marinette in shock.

"Okay, so all we know is that they are a he. He is rich enough to make people assume Marinette, Marinette of all people, is a gold digger and they are in a secret relationship. Who is it?"

Max looks up from his phone, where he is no doubt taking notes.

Marinette looks at the ground mumbling something that no one but Chat can make out thanks to his super hearing. He laughs and walks over to her phone unlocking it as Marinette finally answers.

"Damian Wayne."

Everyone looks at Marinette in a mix of shock and confusion before Chloe bursts out laughing.

"Only you Marinette. Only you would get over your crush on a millionaire heir to fall for a literal billionaire heir without even realizing it."

She breaks off into hysterical laughter as everyone turns to chat who is now on Marinette's computer connected to her phone as a facetime call takes place.

It answers on the second ring to someone who is most definitely NOT Damian Wayne.

"Hey Pixie Pop! Sorry, but I had to steal the phone from demon spawn. He was trying to kill me and Dick with a spoon and lunged for his phone as soon as it started ringing. Me and Dick were closer so we grabbed it and are now trying to find somewhere to hide so he doesn't actually kill us. Dick wanna say 'Hi'?"

Everyone hears a shout of 'sure' from someone out of the frame before the phone is passed over to someone who looks much like the first, except they are older and have no white streak in their hair.

"Hey, nettie! How's school?"

Chat smirks, covering Marinette's mouth as she tries to reply. A door slams shut as the two guys hunker in the near darkness, a lock clicking into place.

"School is great thanks for asking. Could be better but we are all getting by."

Two faces appear on screen looking a mix between worried and angry.

"I swear to god if you are holding Pixie Pop for ransom you will have the rage of all of Gotham fall upon you."

Chat just looks confused before remembering that he's wearing a mask and is holding Marinette's mouth shut.

"Oh! No, I'm not holding her hostage, we're friends. Chat Noir, Parisian superhero at your service. I just wanted to prank her boyfriend, she's having a sleepover and I was invited."

Their expressions immediately relax.

"Oh good. I was worried about what would happen when everyone else found out. Especially Damian."

Both boys shudder and smile as everyone else in the room comes into the frame.

One of them opens their mouth to speak before a loud bang comes from the door. Two equal looks of fear take over their faces.

A second later a loud bang fills the air as the door basically explodes open, high-pitched screams of terror fill the air before all is silent a new face filling to screen.

"Sorry Habibti, my brothers are imbeciles with death wishes. What do you need?"

"Wow, Habibti? I didn't know you felt that way about me Damian, or should I give you a pet name too?"

Chat's grin SCREAMS mischief, as Damian looks down an ice-cold glare in place.

"Let go of my girlfriend before I fly down there and skin you alive regardless of her wishes."

Everyone shivers at the pure venom in Damian's voice as Chat lets go holding his hands up in the air as he grins.

"Sorry, sorry. Letting go."

Marinette and Damian both glare at him before turning to each other, both looks immediately softening.

"Sorry, Shaytan. I'm having a sleepover and Chat outed our relationship and decided it would be funny to call you."

His smile is so gentle it shocks the rest of Marinette's friends.

"Don't worry, it's not your fault the Cat is a moron. I miss you. When do you think you can come back?"

Both of them choose to ignore Chats highly offended 'Hey!' as well as everyone else in the room with Marinette.

"That depends on when you want me there and when I can catch a flight."

Damian sits down at a table pulling a laptop to him as he sets up his phone so she can still see him.

"Well I want you here now, and I can have you a flight soon enough if I ask Father to get the family jet ready. If I work fast I can have you here by tomorrow morning, if not sooner."

Marinette looks shocked.

"You can't just ask your Father to get a plane ready just for me Damian!"

He glances back at the phone before going back to his computer.

"Why not? Everyone here loves you and if you're worried about the cost of it I can assure you a single minute of your time is worth far more than a measly plane ride."

Kim and Alya make cooing noises at the two from the sweetness of it all as Kagami steps up wrapping her arms protectively around her.

"Before you make any more trip plans you are going to tell me what you plan to do with Marinette in the future. I will not allow her to be some temporary girlfriend if you aren't serious about her."

Damian turns back to the phone looking past Marinette to acknowledge the others for the first time since the call started.

"I can assure you I don't want Marinette to be temporary. I plan to marry her and I truly couldn't care less if any of you have a problem with it."

Marinette's face invents a new shade of red as everyone coos over how cute that is. After getting over their initial shock of course.

"Habibti, do you want them to be able to come with you next time you come over? I can have father speak to their parents if they don't agree right away."

"Are you sure that would be okay?"

Marinette's timid voice makes Damian look away from his computer.

"Why wouldn't it be? If you don't want them to come with you then they don't have to, I know that you have some trouble with a few of your classmates. Seeing how late it is there I would have thought these were the ones who didn't turn on you or came back once they realized how idiotic they were to leave in the first place."

"Rude, but true."

Damian chooses to ignore Alya.

"No I would like for them to come, it could be fun! I'm just worried about space and where everyone would sleep."

Damian snorts.

"You have nothing to worry about, if you don't want them to stay in a hotel they can stay with us in the manor, there's plenty of space. And if there isn't enough space you can just sleep with me in my room."

He finishes off with a cheeky grin as Marinette sputters.

"You can't just say stuff like that Damian! It was bad enough that you said you planned to marry me, you don't need to add sharing a bed to the pile!"

Damian has the audacity to look confused.

"What do you mean? I never hid my plans to marry you nor my feelings, I don't get what the big deal is about sharing a bed anyway. It's not like Alfred would let us do anything and we wouldn't even have the chance with the circus monkeys I call brothers."

Several offended voices with 'I heard that!' 'Excuse me?' and 'You love us and you know it!'s all sound from his end.

Alix and Kim are basically collapsed onto each other as they wheeze at his bluntness.

Marinette sighs resting her head on her hands with a 'why do I even bother?' before looking up again.

"Fine, how is next weekend for everyone. I know Adrien will want to be included and I don't think he has anything going then. It will give me enough time to convince everyone's parents if need be and pack."

Everyone agrees and they end the call. Damian and Marinette saying their respective I love yous and Goodnight/Good mornings.

"I'm going to duel him."

"Kagami NO!"

Kagami looks Marinette dead in the eyes before smiling.

"Kagami yes."

#maridami #daminette #marinette x batfam #dc x mlb #Fluff interactions

126 notes · View notes

shelobussy · 3 years

Note

I'm here from that civil war analysis. I absolutely agree with everything you said. I would also like to know what you think of wanda.

Posting under the cut because a lot of my mutuals are WandaVision fans and I respect that.

Wanda Maximoff gives me hives. I don't know if it's poor casting or just how badly her character is written. I know that she's supposed to be better in the comics and in some animated series, but I haven't encountered either.

Starting off in Age of Ultron, you have Wanda as an unsympathetic nazi. You could argue that she joined up with Hydra to avenge her parents, but I still think it was a dumbass move that gets glossed over pretty quickly in the same movie. I was mostly neutral toward her in this movie (I didn't know at the time that she was going to be a permanent main character), but I found her annoying and about as interesting as a slab of concrete.

Then we get Captain America: Civil War. A trash dumpster fire of a film. Everything starts out pretty good, she's part of the team, she botches the mission, and here I thought things were going to get interesting, we were actually going to get some good character moments with her. Except then we don't. All we get is Steve giving vague father-ly advice to excuse away a mistake that cost people their lives.

Mind you, if Wanda was part of any military branch or police force, she'd have been benched, maybe permanently. I'm not saying I'm pro-cop or pro-military, btw, I'm just saying that official organizations that have literally no accountability are doing better than the Avengers at taking responsibility. But hey, you can't save everyone amiright?

Then you have her being visibly distressed over footage of the damage she caused one film ago. And the narrative treats her as justified for wanting it turned off. Y'all, I'm sure her destroying several buildings (via the Hulk) and manipulating Tony Stark into building an AI that backfires and kills half a city is totally more traumatic than...I don't know, the people who died maybe??? The Avengers who were put under mind control, facing their worst fears? Why is the narrative treating Wanda like the victim here?

Then you have the whole "you locked me in my room" comment and that's where I really start to see red. Because Tony Stark is allowed to be put forcibly on house arrest "for his own good" a few movies ago, but the minute we try to protect an illegal immigrant without a visa (edit for clarity: I'm not bashing immigrants, legal or otherwise, the team was right to protect her) who blew up a street (accidentally, but if we aren't letting cops or vets get away with it being just an "accident," then I'm not letting Wanda either) and killed a couple of people by keeping her in a safe, comfortable, building that literally has every modern convenience she could ask for. She sounds really entitled for someone who's supposedly a victim of oppression in this film.

Her whole attitude in this movie really irks me. The whole "you were holding back" (she's his best friend ffs of course he was holding back), "i can only control my own fear" (we've literally established one movie ago that that's not true)...why does she have such bad dialogue guys. I'm trying so hard to like the hot witch with the rad superpowers, why are you making it so hard Russo brothers.

Then we have Wanda/Vision which feels so so forced and so so hetero I go insane watching it. It's a bit better in WandaVision (mainly because they actually took the time to flesh their relationship out), but the ship comes almost out of nowhere. On the MCU canon pairings scale, starting at the top with Pepperony and ending on the bottom with Bruce/Natasha...I put it somewhere around Bruce/Natasha. It's that bad.

She's was pretty cool in Infinity War, powers-wise. There were a couple of sequences I actually enjoyed. Was a little annoyed that she and Steve kept taking away Vision's choice, and ultimately Vision was right, but whatever. She had some good moments in this film so it's probably the film I rate her the highest in character-wise.

I hate Endgame for many reasons that are not Wanda related, but her "you took everything from me line" is kind of confusing because A) a wayward, stollen bomb took away her parents and B) her and brother's actions killed her brother. Unless she's categorizing Vision as her "everything" then this statement doesn't hold up. (Also the forced girlboss moment in Endgame gave me a mental illness.)

WandaVision is pretty good. The premise is interesting, the creepy moments are really creepy, and the acting is great. There are some wonky plot moments, I don't really like the meta-joke with them recasting Pietro (THEY CAN ASK THE SAME ACTOR BACK HE'S NOT DEAD OR ANYTHING???). I have no huge complaints beyond the fact that, again, this is about the most forced, hetero relationship on the planet and I'm tired.

There is the whole Wanda being white-washed and Elizabeth Olsen using slurs, but as a white person, I feel unqualified to make a comment on that. I would rather defer to someone with more knowledge on that to make an informed statement on it.

Oh shit, I forgot about the Tony Stark thing. Yeah, let's talk about Wanda's motivations in Age of Ultron. So she and her brother join the MCU's sanitized version of nazism because a bomb dropped on their house, killing their parents. The bomb had Stark Industries on it, so they think "hey we gotta get back at the guy who made the bomb" which???

Okay, so let's say a bomb dropped on my house killing my parents and let's use a real nuclear weapons company let's say it's Babcock and Wilcox. IT'S A BRAND NAME BABCOCK AND WILCOX DID NOT PERSONALLY SHOW UP IN AN AIRPLANE AND DROP A BOMB ON ME. If I really was up for revenge wouldn't I go after the people who illegally purchased the bomb and attacked my country? Tony Stark is not responsible for the death of her parents and I'm so mad that they never resolve this point of contention. They just never bring it up again?? Make it make sense.

Anyway, I'm mostly neutral, if not annoyed by Wanda. She's a badly written character in a long line of badly written characters in the MCU.

#wanda maximoff #wandavision #putting in the anti tag but i'm not anti #anti wanda #anti wandavision #anti wanda maximoff #mcu critical #mcu criticism #ash does fandom

93 notes · View notes

peterparker-pickedapepper · 3 years

Text

Always You

(Peter Parker/Spider-Man x Stark!Reader)

Chapter 01

A/N: this is set during Homecoming (and eventually FFH) in a universe where Tony isn’t ☠️ bc we don’t acknowledge that trauma here 🙂 also, there are elements from the comics and the older movies, but it’s still in the MCU

———————————————————————

I never meant to find it.

And I wasn’t being nosy either. It was my dads fault, really. Okay so yes, I wasn’t supposed to be in his workshop. But is it my fault he just leaves important things lying around? Mom’s told him to keep it tidy enough times you think it’d be engrained in his brain.

Anyway, the how isn’t important. Not even the why matters. It’s everything that came after.

It was the day my world began falling apart.

The moment I lost all trust—all respect—for the two men closest to my heart.

Now that I know their secret, I don’t see how I’ll be able to look them in the eye. But I’m going to do it. I’m going to keep my head up, act as normal as possible...

And see how long it takes for them to tell me themselves.

———————————————————————

Three Months Earlier

“I’m here on the corner of fifth and main, just a street away from the reported sighting of a flying man causing panic among the locals.”

Y/N adjusted her fingers around the smooth base of the microphone, her skin slipping against the hard plastic. It wasn’t nerves causing the dampness on her palms, but excitement. Her eyes flickered from the camera lens pointed in her direction to her best friend standing behind it before easily finding their mark again.

“The large, mechanically winged man has been wrecking havoc in New York’s beloved neighborhood of Queens for the last—”

The ground suddenly shifted beneath her feet with a loud boom, jolting her forward and stopping her report mid-sentence. She twirled around, eyes instantly landing on the sandwich shop across the street.

Or, rather, on the man looming ominously from its roof.

She could only assume it was a man. She’d never seen his face—or any part of his body for that matter—not that his skintight suit left anything to the imagination. But the media affectionately called him “Spider-Man”, so they pretty much filled in the blanks on that one.

She watched as he seemingly surveyed the area. It was always so hard to tell what was going on behind that mask, but every time she saw him she liked to imagine a picture perfect heroic expression etched into handsome features.

It made her disdain for the local superstar a little easier to swallow down.

His head swiveled back and forth a few times, fists clenching at his sides, before he shot one of his webs and disappeared on the other side of the building. She immediately turned back toward her camerawoman, lips pulled into an excited grin.

“This is perfect. Come on.” She wasted no time in scooping up some of the equipment laying at her feet, but stopped short when she noticed the apprehensive expression staring back at her.

“I don’t think I’m really in the mood to run toward danger today.” Her best friend’s bored voice didn’t match the concern she knew was brewing just below the surface.

“MJ,” Y/N all but whined. “We need this story.”

“We need to get ready for next week’s debate.” She muttered, mild annoyance seeping through. “We need to be home in twenty minutes so your dad doesn’t kill us. We need—”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Y/N huffed, tossing the last of the camera supplies into her bag before slinging it over her shoulder.

She turned on her heel, pulling her phone from her back pocket as she moved toward the last crash that sounded a few blocks away. She was getting this story, whether she had to go alone or not. Screw her father’s arbitrary curfew. He was in India for the next few days, anyway.

“You’re serious?” MJ’s incredulous voice echoed from behind her. “What about Liz’s party?”

Y/N’s attention only wavered from the small screen in her hands once she was finished temporarily disabling the tracking feature her dad had not so subtly installed before giving it to her. He didn’t need to know she almost immediately figured out it was there, just like she didn’t need to know that he got a notification every time she hacked into the system.

Her eyes found MJ’s, wide with shock and following something in the sky above. Y/N’s head snapped upward, gaze locking on the flying man who was twisting and turning aggressively in an attempt to kick Spider-Man off his right wing.

“Yes. Very serious.” She huffed, pulse jumping with excitement. “If FRIDAY calls just, please, try to be convincing.”

With that, she spun around one last time before jogging toward the action. She knew MJ’s hesitation was coming from a good place. They’d been inseparable since middle school because they were on opposing ends of the same strong-willed base.

Where MJ was methodical and calculated, Y/N was rash and unpredictable. They were both the type to end up involved in sketchy situations, just at varying speeds and levels of grandeur. Y/N had her father to thank for that.

The iconic Tony Stark was not a pretender. He was who he was, loud and proud. He’d never apologized for it before—not even when he should’ve—and he probably never would. Y/N, on the other hand, had been pretending to be something she wasn’t for more than a decade.

He’d given her a choice when she was old enough for kindergarten. They talked about it, mapped out the pros and cons, and she made a decision. Soon after, she entered the outside world as Y/N Smith. It was the best thing her five year old brain could think of. Plus, she didn’t want her place on the alphabetical rosters to change.

She went to public schools—something Tony never missed an opportunity to mention he hated—and started paving her own way. Right now, that meant she was chasing a super-powered fight through the streets of Queens.

Since landing a highly sought after internship at The Daily Bugle, Y/N’s main priority had been impressing her overbearing bosses. That came with varying levels of complexity, depending on the superhero shenanigans of the month.

She rounded a corner into an alleyway, instantly ducking down when a blindingly bright object whizzed by her head. Her arms shot up in a protective motion as she leaned against the cool brick wall at her side. She remained there, frozen in place with a racing heart, for several seconds.

Something thumped to the concrete only a foot away from her crumpled frame, nearly making her jump out of her skin. She peeked through her arms, still crossed over her head, eyes widening as they landed on a pile of red and black fabric.

The lump groaned and slowly unraveled to reveal Queens’ favorite masked hero. He shook his head, the mechanical eyes of his suit twitching as if malfunctioning. Y/N was stuck in her spot, wide eyes hungrily drinking in every detail they could. Despite following his activity for months now, she’d never gotten this close to the mystery man.

His suit was tighter than she thought possible. It hugged his body in a way that left nothing to the imagination. The rippling muscles lining his torso were clearly visible beneath the thick material. She watched as he sat back on his heels and rubbed the side of his head, shoulders tensing as he seemed to finally realize that she was there.

“Whoa, hey.” Came his breathy, surprisingly high-pitched greeting. He cleared his throat before continuing, a steady hand extending her way. “Are you okay, miss?”

Y/N’s brow furrowed in curiosity, not missing the way his demeanor changed the moment he noticed her. It was like a flip switched. He’d turned on his superhero persona, a process she was unfortunately all too familiar with.

“I’m fine.” The words came out more forcefully than she’d intended, but she was all business now, too.

There was no way she was letting him out of her sight without getting some information. She wasn’t even worried about all the ways her bosses would kill her, she’d beat herself up enough for the missed opportunity. She ignored his hand, dusting her jeans off and hobbling to her feet before reaching for her phone to launch the recording app.

“Can I ask you a few questions, Spider-Man?” She jutted the phone out in front of her, and he took a step back as if the device would somehow hurt him.

The eyes on his mask widened, something she didn’t know was possible. “Oh. I...uh—”

Just then, the ground shook with a massive impact that couldn’t have been more than a block away. It would’ve knocked Y/N right off her feet if it weren’t for the gloved hand that shot out to stabilize her.

“Gotta go!”

By the time his hasty goodbye met her ears, he was gone. It took about ten seconds for Y/N to process what just happened before she took off running in the same direction he’d swung in. She was too far in to give up now. At this point, she’d settle for some shaky footage of the fight. It’d be enough to satisfy her editors for a few days.

She ran out in the street, stopping abruptly as a stampede of people swarmed her. Elbows and shoulders rammed into her sides as she tried fighting her way through the panic.

“Oh, come on people! Chill the fuck out!” She found herself shouting to deaf ears.

Maybe it was because she grew up immersed in the superhero way of life, or her bordering on unhealthy need to get some kind of story tonight, but either way she was aggravated by the public reaction more than anything.

She was rarely scared anymore, even when faced with imminent danger. Admittedly, she didn’t have a good gauge for when she might be getting herself into trouble. Another thing she blamed her father for.

Her eyes remained trained on the sky, watching the fight unfold in mid-air. She cringed as Spider-Man nearly fell off the homemade-looking flying suit. He quickly regained his balance, shooting a web into one of the back engines. It immediately started sputtering as the metal clanked and caught in the sticky substance.

They were going down, and fast. She knew this was probably her last chance to get any kind of discernable footage of the event, so she reached into her back pocket for her phone. It was at this moment that someone decided to shove into her so hard that she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground.

A rush of air left her lungs as she hit the asphalt, hard. She couldn’t help but wince as pain shot up both of her arms. There would definitely be bruises she’d need to hide later. Thankfully, at least she ended up near the curb so she wasn’t instantly trampled to death by the screaming crowd.

She pushed herself up into a sitting position and huffed, wiping away the tiny rocks that were now embedded into her palms. She was about to hobble to her feet and call tonight a wash when her eyes landed on a blueish-purple glow coming from a nearby alley.

Maybe she wouldn’t get any useable footage tonight, but a souvenir would lift her spirits and, hopefully, her credibility in the office. Without wasting anymore time, she stumbled to her feet and ducked into the darkness of the cramped space.

She followed the pulsating light, stopping only when her eyes landed on a small, metallic object. It had a thin silver cage protecting what looked like a gem or rock of some kind. Nothing too crazy, aside from the whole glowing thing. Her brows furrowed with curiosity as she crouched down to get a better view.

She had absolutely no idea what it was, and she’d seen a lot of weird things in her dads workshop. The only thing she could compare it to was some of the alien technology that’d been leftover from the Battle of New York. She’d run a few stories about that herself, plus saw her dad tinkering with some things since Thor took Loki back to Asgard.

Figuring she could show it to him at the very least, she pulled the end of her sleeve over her hand and grabbed it. She let her bag slip off of her shoulder and quickly unzipped it before sliding the object inside.

Just then, the sound of screeching metal filled her ears at a deafening volume. She managed to close her bag before covering her ears and ducking against the brick alley wall. The crowd still surrounding the area screamed in horror.

She watched with wide eyes as the huge bird-man landed on the rooftop just a few feet away from her crouched form. It was the closest she’d been to the masked—villain? She wasn’t sure—and he was far more intimidating than she’d first assumed.

His glowing beady green eyes didn’t so much as glance in her direction as he slung Spider-Man over the edge of the building, the tip of one of his wings wrapped around his throat.

An involuntary gasp tore through her chest.

It wasn’t that she was worried about the hero. For one, she knew he was more than capable of fending for himself. It wasn’t even that she cared if he got hurt. He was mostly an annoyance to her, his illusive nature making her job way harder than usual.

But if she knew one thing in this moment, it was that the bird-man was the bad guy, and she couldn’t let him win.

So, she did something really stupid.

She found the closest thing that she thought might actually do any kind of damage—which was, unfortunately, an old bike helmet next to the dumpster—and chucked it at the pair.

It hit one of the metal wings with a pathetic clink and all three of them froze.

Y/N held her breath as the man’s head turned in her direction slowly. Way too slowly. Like ‘I’m going to really enjoy killing you’ slowly.

After that, everything happened impossibly fast.

“Hey! Watch out!”

She barely had time to recognize the panicked voice before she was flying. Her stomach flipped and she couldn’t even scream, overcome with sudden vertigo. She pinched her eyes shut the second she saw the top of a building and clutched onto whatever was carrying her away.

If it was the weird bird guy, she accepted whatever evil plan he had. But, if it was Spider-Man, she was going to kill him.

It must’ve only been seconds before her feet touched solid ground, but it felt like an eternity to her. The moment she felt the stability beneath her, she began fighting against her captor.

“Let me go! Oh my god. If you don’t put me down right now—”

“What the hell—ow!”

Once she was free, she staggered away from him with a huff. She cleared the hair out of her eyes and bent over, resting her hands on her knees as she attempted to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding wildly and her stomach was still doing summer-salts.

She raised her eyes to send a withering glare toward the masked man. “Never do that shit again.”

He stared at her—at least she assumed—for a long moment before taking a step forward.

“What the hell was that? You could’ve gotten yourself hurt.” He gestured wildly with his hands, clearly agitated.

“That’s one way to thank me for saving your life.” Y/N ground out, sounding way more bitter than she would’ve liked.

“Saving my—” The eyes on his mask narrowed incredulously. “You did not save my life. All you did was distract me and put like ten other people in danger.”

She couldn’t help but scoff. “Please. Spare me the morality speech, Spider-Man. We both know you don’t bother worrying about people like me.”

Y/N was all too familiar with how superheroes think. When they’re in the middle of a fight, all they care about is winning. They usually have a bigger mission to accomplish. One that doesn’t concern itself with the lives left behind.

“People like you are all I worry about, trust me.”

With that harsh declaration, a heavy silence fell between them. Y/N clenched her jaw tightly, biting her tongue to prevent the floodgates from opening. Spider-Man wasn’t the only one who deserved her hostility toward superheroes, he just happened to be the one in front of her now.

Instead of speaking her mind, she turned on her heel and stalked away from him. At this point, it was late. The sun had set and her dad surely knew she wasn’t home when she promised. She had to accept that today just wasn’t her day and head back for some damage control.

Peter, feeling his chest tighten with regret for the way he’d snapped, followed closely behind her quick steps.

“Wait!” She actually stopped, something he wasn’t expecting, so he rammed right into her back. His hands quickly wrapped around her biceps as she spun around. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I, uh...”

He didn’t know what to say. This was the second time in one night he’d run into her, but he was still dumbstruck. The circumstances weren’t ideal. He thought he’d lost her earlier, but then she had to go and put herself in danger.

He took a step away from her, dropping his hands and rubbing at the back of his neck nervously. He had to remind himself that she had no idea who he was. Even if he did embarrass himself—like he usually did around her—she wouldn’t know it was him when they saw each other in the halls come Monday.

“At least let me get you home.” He insisted, feeling bad that he’d indirectly kept her out so late.

Y/N pursed her lips, immediately wanting to accept his offer but trying not to give too much away. Truthfully, she was exhausted. She just wanted to get home and deal with the fallout disobeying her curfew would bring so she could get some sleep.

“Alright.” She sighed, pulling anxiously at the straps of her bag. She knew this meant she’d have to swing through the streets again, something she wasn’t nearly ready to do.

Nevertheless, she allowed Spider-Man to walk toward her. She averted her eyes as he wrapped an arm around her back and tried not to let her breath catch when his gloved fingers skimmed the exposed skin of her lower back where her shirt had ridden up.

Warmth enveloped her as his proximity settled in. Under his mask, Peter’s face was burning. This was by far the closest he’d been to his classmate. Or any girl, actually. Not wanting to think about it for a second longer, he shot a web toward a nearby building and followed the directions Y/N yelled out.

Within minutes, they landed on the helipad outside her front door.

Peter felt his stomach drop with realization once he let his eyes wander around the outside of the huge building.

“Oh my god. Is this seriously where you live?” He cleared his throat after squeaking out the question, not necessarily wanting to give away his shock.

“What?” Y/N scoffed teasingly. “Don’t I look like a spoiled rich girl?”

“That’s not—I wasn’t—” He didn’t know what he was trying to say, honestly. There were endless questions flitting through us mind at warp speed.

If she lived here, at the Avengers Tower, did that mean she was one of them? And he just hadn’t met her yet? Or did she work for Mr. Stark? But she was so young. He guessed she could be an assistant or something. Maybe she worked for Pepper? Or Happy? Or, she could—

Y/N rolled her eyes, deciding to spare him the embarrassment of sputtering any more. “My dad is famous...like helped form the Avengers famous.”

Peter’s mind went blank. He wasn’t expecting that.

“Cap?” It was the first name to spill out of his mouth. “Wait, can he even have kids?”

Y/N couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her at his assumption. “He totally can, but no.”

“Oh.” The gears of his brain started turning again and realization slowly dawned on him. He felt his throat run dry as his eyes widened behind his mask. “Oh.”

Shit. This was way worse. He couldn’t believe he had no idea who she really was. Sure, she used a different last name at school, but he should’ve seen the resemblance sooner.

“Look, I know you two have worked together.” Y/N sighed, thinking back to all those weeks her dad was gone fighting Steve and the rest of his friends for no real reason. “Can you just...not tell him about this?”

Peter’s brows furrowed in confusion. Why wouldn’t she want Mr. Stark knowing that she’d been with him?

Either way, he agreed, since he had a favor to ask of his own. “Only if you won’t.”

She gave him this dumbfounded look, and he knew he had to elaborate.

“He made me this suit before the whole thing with Captain America, so I thought he would keep giving me missions, but now it’s been months and he won’t return my calls. I’m lucky if I get through to Happy. He doesn’t want me getting involved in this stuff, so...”

It struck Y/N then how weird it was to hear a superhero talk about her family so casually. It didn’t seem possible that the two of them were in the same circles. Sure, she’d practically grown up with a few of the world’s most famous heroes, but somehow Spider-Man was different.

He was local. And elusive. A pure mystery to her.

“What exactly is this stuff?” She thought back to the weird glowing object in her bag, having almost forgotten it was there.

“I don’t know.” Peter shook his head, seemingly defeated. “I thought it was just neighborhood stuff, but those guns...I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Alien tech.” Y/N said without hesitation, although she wasn’t actually positive that’s what it was. “My dad has some in his workshop. It was leftover from the Battle of New York.”

“How does it work?” Peter found himself asking excitedly, easily pushing all the other revelations from this conversation to the back of his mind.

“I don’t know.” She admitted, looking away from him as her chest tightened with emotion. “I’ve never gotten close enough to any of it to see. He likes to keep me out of things too...”

It was at that moment, as a breath of silence settled between them, that they realized she was still in his arms. Y/N’s face erupted with heat and she quickly pushed herself away from him. Once her feet were back on the ground, they both stepped backward to create some much needed distance.

“I, ah...better get back...”

“Yeah, yeah. I have to go too...”

They looked at each other for a few long moments. It was at if neither of them truly wanted to separate, but knew they had to. It was clear, though, that they’d just formed some kind of connection.

Y/N felt something strange—and wildly inappropriate—brewing in her chest. A certain kind of attraction toward the masked hero she’d never considered before. It appalled her, honestly. It wasn’t like she hated the guy, but she certainly didn’t like him. And she had no idea who he was. He could be eight years old, for all she knew.

With that realization, she turned on her heel and stalked down the narrow entrance to the Avengers Tower, her face still burning. She heard the thwip of Spider-Man’s webbing and knew he’d be gone if she looked back. So she didn’t.

She pressed her hand against the touchpad outside the front door and quickly slipped inside once it recognized her prints. She sighed heavily and let herself fall back against the door, the comfort of home enveloping her.

The peace was short lived, however, as she caught sight of her mother waiting expectantly behind the bar to her left. With a glass of red wine in hand, her knowing gaze shifted from the helipad outside to Y/N’s stiff frame.

She took a slow sip, eyes narrowing over the rim of the glass.

“You’re so grounded.”

———————————————————————

let me know what you think!! should I continue this series??

#peter parker imagine #peter parker smut #peter parker #tony stark #mcufam #original character #marvel #the avengers #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #peter parker series #mcu series #tom holland series #stark reader

47 notes · View notes

masterthespianduchovny · 3 years

Text

At the beginning of age of avengers, someone assumes that Tony is the leader and he corrects them and say that it’s Steve.

And that surprised me because I assumed that Steve and Tony were co-leaders, but no, Steve was CHOSEN as the leader of the avengers. I was about to say that Tony was second in command, but I’m assuming that’s Nat.

But, as surprised as I was about this revelation (I literally hadn’t seen the movie in 8 years until 3 days ago), it instantly made sense.

As much as the anti Steve crowd hates on Steve, on several occasions we’ve seen Steve not only inspire people, but also get them to follow him. After someone commits to following Steve, they’re typically loyal to him.

We do not see this with Tony.

The issue with Tony isn’t that he’s flawed and has trauma, it’s how he treats others and how he processes trauma. When you lash out at others, ignore them, insult them (for your own amusement); don’t consider anyone else, etc, you more times than not will alienate people who are ok your side or, at least, want to be. A person having trauma doesn’t excuse how they treat others. And there is only so long most will people up with that behavior before leaving, which is their right.

I believe the only person who stayed by Tony’s side no matter what was Happy. Tony and Rhodey commonly fought and Rhodey even sided against Tony as well. Pepper had to take a break from Tony due to his own actions.

People can forgive flaws, but often struggle to forgive habitual poor behavior and various transgressions that comes with it.

We cannot except people to respect Tony or want to follow when he makes a joke about the PTSD (Capsickle), their traditional clothes (Thor), job endangerment (Rhodey; Tony made a transphobic joke about an event that didn’t happen), as well as sexual remarks (Natasha). And that’s not all that he did. This goes beyond being flaws, especially when you’re supposed to work with these people and they’re allegedly your friends.

He also doesn’t tell anyone about his trauma and OFTEN deflects, which may include insults or cracking inappropriate jokes. No one should have to deal with that all because someone is traumatized, especially as ALL OF THEM are dealing with their own and equally valid trauma.

Comparatively, Steve does not do that.

The people who work with Steve and are friends with him take him seriously. They support him and he supports them.

We see this going back to the 1940s. Peggy believed in Steve based off of his resilience and faith of convictions. She challenges him when he accepts his current circumstances.

After Steve saves literally over 400 men by himself, he earns the respect of not only colonel Phillips, but the men he saved as well. When he says he wants to pick his own team, in addition to the wish being respected, the chosen men flat out say that they’d follow Cap anywhere.

This must be stressed: these men were held prisoner and knew they’d encounter the most dangerous weapon and men in the entire war and readily agreed because Captain America asked.

In winter soldier, Steve is declared a criminal and is on the run. When he breaks into the shield headquarters, he gives his speech and EVERYONE minus hydra agents refuse to launch the coded because Captain America explain to them that some dangerous shit was going down. They believed his word because his actions and his character is THAT respected.

See the trend here: people listening and following Steve because they believe he’s genuine and wants to do what’s right.

In age of ultron, we hear a reference that he was chosen as leader. The events in this movie proves why Steve was chosen and Tony wasn’t.

Whether or not you believe Tony was right to crested ultron, he still should’ve told his team what Wanda made him see AND explained why he wanted to create this tech/weapon. Instead, he deliberately kept it a secret and pressured Bruce into helping him. Ironically, despite the claims that Steve feels like he knows that’s best, this is exactly what Tony assumes.

Let’s be clear: not only are Steve, nat, Bruce, hawk eye, and Thor adults, they are also avengers as well. They don’t need Tony to protect them and they all of the capabilities of deciding if they want to do something dangerous and risk their lives. And it’s ego centric as hell for him to actually believe that Steve, of all people, would guilt him by saying he should’ve saved them. Steve wouldn’t have done such a thing both saying that or even making Tony feel bad if he did all he could do.

Despite creating his murder bot due to not consulting his team because he knew they’d say no, Tony did it AGAIN.

Again, where’s the leadership? Where’s the accountability? Where’s the understanding that he may not like the answer, but he does owe it to his team to talk to them? And, again, he thinks he knows what’s best.

What does Steve do in this same movie? The twins start fighting besides him, which he doesn’t interfere with because ultron is the bigger threat. But, rather than fight them like his instinct tells them, he stop and listens to what they have to say.

I want to note that people like to say (and some are thinking), it’s good that Tony built what eventually became ultron, well, it’s good that Steve extended a hand to the twins. They also played a huge role in why the world didn’t lose half its popular, which was a consequence of Steve’s decision making.

Once Steve heard them out and was willing to let them into the fold, he defended them when other avengers tried to attack them. He didn’t leave them out to dry.

Then, when the actual fight happens Tony reveals a few minutes in that they have no other options but to abandon civilians and let them die.

Steve flat out refuses that as an option and makes the PERSONAL decision to stay until every civilian is safe. Not one person will be left to die.

I don’t know about anyone else, but Steve comes off as the clear leader and Tony doesn’t.

What happens next is that literally every current avenger and the twins stay to help. Nat literally tells Steve that this would be a beautiful place to die and explicitly says she’s fighting alongside him.

Whether or not Steve spoke to people, he inspired them to follow him by his actions.

Who is inspired to follow Tony?

Tony flirts with retirement, which no criticism against that.

But, alongside nat, Steve personally trains Sam, Rhodey, and Wanda for team avengers. After accepting Wanda into the fold, he treats her life everyone else.

In civil war, Steve was hands on with wandas training so she could control her power and made sure was protected. He accepted responsibility for not accounting for unforeseen threats, such as the explosives and explained to Wanda the realities of their job. He was realistic with her, but used that as motivation as to why they should strive to be better. Steve was outraged when he found out that she was locked up and freed her from Tony’s unlawful imprisonment.

Even if someone argues she should be locked up, Tony did not talk to her. Wanda didn’t consent to being confined to the house. This is another example of believing he knew what was best for people rather than talking to them and seeing how they feel. He isn’t giving others the right to make informed decisions for themselves and in general.

Steve, on the other hand, consistently considers what people feel because he TALKS to people. He has meaningful conversations with people, such as nat and Sam. Steve formed connections to people, which made them feel close to him.

But, let’s circle back to Tony, he takes a MINOR without the explicit consent of his guardian. Not only does he take Peter without May’s permission, he takes Peter OVERSEAS and to fight at that.

To make matters worse, Peter doesn’t know WHY he’s fighting or what for.

Where’s the oversight or accountability in any of that?

During the fight, someone flat out asks how old Peter is. Tony follows up after the fight, during homecoming, with almost inviting Peter to stay at the avengers compound. As a reminder, Peter was still a literal teenager and Tony still DID NOT ask peter’s guardian if this was okay.

Where as Steve explicitly tells people what they are getting into. He lays out what to expect and that you have a choice in it. Steve never pressures people into helping him and they usually volunteer. And, whatever happens afterwards, he’s there for them.

How was Tony’s mentorship with Peter?

He’s not actively involved with Peter after taking him in as a mentee, pawns him off in Happy, thinks at status reports are sufficient, and ignored Peter’s concerns. Peter was a minor who just had the most surreal experience of his life and Tony doesn’t think this kid would be amped and itching to do more?

Tony doesn’t think Peter might need some hands on mentorship? Tony thought he could mentor from afar with updates and camera footage, but it actually engage.

Them damned accords!

Tony signed the document due to guilt and tried to get others to sign it despite him being mostly responsible for why the accord even exist or, at least, did a lot of shit that is now being penalized. I’m not sure if he actually read it OR if someone summarized the point.

Whereas Steve DID read the accords and his stance wasn’t one of guilt, but concern and ethical issues with what’s in the accords. Steve was prepared to retire because his beliefs didn’t align with what was being asked of him and others. He didn’t ask anyone to back or follow him.

But, people do eventually back him and follow his lead. They know exactly what they’re getting into. And, despite knowing the risks and eventually getting arrested, they stick to their convictions.

When Tony finds out that Bucky killed his parents, despite knowing that Bucky was brainwashed for LITERALLY decades, he tries to kill him. When cap realizes this, he constantly tries to neutralize Tony.

Let’s go back. Steve knowing that Bucky needs to be arrested, decides to save Bucky both for Bucky’s protection AND so those trying to bring him in doesn’t get hurt/killed. Once Bucky is safely arrested, Steve lets the situation go.

Oh, before I really get into infinity wars, there is no mention of Wanda harming other people even accidentally. :)

Tony, as usual, ignores what others wanted, like strange, and think he knows what’s best. He plans to fight thanos henchman by himself as well as thanos completely ignoring the concept of teamwork. (He also jumps to insulting others for his own shits and giggles—keep in mind, these are people he doesn’t know).

What does Steve do?

He was successfully on the run with nat and Sam and they worked together as a TEAM to save vision. They then meet up with rhodey and formulate a plan as to how to stop thanos. Steve coordinates with various people to have the battle in Wakanda. He doesn’t assume he can fight thanos by himself or should.

Steve refuses to trade lives because every life is valuable.

When the Snap happens, Tony fucks up into his cabin in the woods and lives his life.

And what does Steve do?

Run a support group to keep hope alive for people who are trying to see the best in a shitty situation.

He stays an avenger and does whatever needs to be done because he’s there to serve the people regardless of the despair he feels.

Don’t get it twisted, Steve is not perfect, but he constantly led by example, put the wants and needs of others before himself, was a hands on mentor, listened and supported others, and refused to leave anyone behind and/or die. He was always willing to be the only man fighting the battle and even to die for his beliefs.

And this man is called selfish by some.

Where as Tony consistently believed he knew what was best for others, was willing to let people die, was a shit mentor, mocked and ridiculed others, put his own feelings first, etc.

And this is seen as a leader???

Let’s not forget that dangerous tech he left to a MINOR after he died. Peter was so overwhelmed by the responsibility, he gave it to the first person who listened to him and who he believed to be responsible. This isn’t a condemnation of people. Again, his a literal minor—15 or 16. Who is overwhelmed about the shit stark left on his shoulders.

When old cap spoke to Sam, he gave AN ADULT, his shield. One with loved experiences and who knew how to handle complicated feelings. He knew what Sam was willing to handle and could handle.

And another thing: the fact that people were willing to go on the run with Steve says a lot. This is the second time Steve has been on the run and people, Sam and nat, were willing to follow him and assist (both times).

Tony couldn’t even get people to stay faithful to the legal accords. Rhodey said peace out as soon as cap returned. Nat abandoned Tony to join Steve. Vision questioned his life choices, and then went black to be with Wanda. And Peter didn’t know what the fuck was going on.

And Tony stans think he should’ve been leader based off of using his money for the avengers and giving them a place to crash.

LOL!

People want Wanda to apologize to Tony for invading his mind when he should apologize for her parents dying. If you’re a weapons manufacturer, there’s no such thing as believing only the “good guys” will use your weapons. You know your weapons could and will get into the wrong hands. And you also know that without war, you’d be out of a job. But, also the “good guys” are usually imperialist who fuck over other countries as they undermined these government structures to steal resources from them and other shit.

Just because starks stopped manufacturing weapons doesn’t mean he can escape accountability for what his weapons did to others.

Tony also ratted out that Clint had a family and was fine with them being jailed because they took the “wrong” side. Did he apologize to any of these people? The ones he had jailed and the ones who were forced to go on the run for a bill he supported, and then admitted was fucked up? (The same law he later broke twice.)

But, he’s a leader???

#pro captain america #pro steve rogers #steve rogers defence club #Steve rogers #Captain America #pro tony stark #pro iron man #anti tony stark #anti tony stans #anti iron man #for every post I see mistagged I’m mistagging my own #if I can’t peruse the Steve tags without anti mess you can’t do that with the Tony tag #:)#childish but I don’t care

216 notes · View notes

olivemac · 3 years

Text

1300 miles | chapter one | b.b.

Summary | Bucky Barnes is adjusting to civilian life, living in Brooklyn, visiting Sam in Delacroix when he can, and trying to figure out what he wants. When he meets Jo Landry, the tattooed lead singer of a New Orleans-based band, he thinks he might have found the answer. Too bad they live 1300 miles apart.

Time Frame | post-TFATWS

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x fem!oc

Rating | explicit

Warnings | mentions of combat-related injuries, alcohol use, tattoos/body piercings, coarse language, gay male character, bisexual female character, recreational/medicinal drug use (weed), pet names (doll, Sarge), smut (f/m, mutual masturbation, fingering, slight dom!Bucky, praise kink), angst if you squint but not really, and all the romance tropes/fluff because I'm a sucker for it; more warnings to come; 18+ ONLY, minors DNI

A/N | It’s my birthday, so to celebrate I’m sharing chapter one of my new WIP. This started its life as a one-shot but then my enneagram 4 brain took over and now it’s looking like it’ll be a multi-chapter short. Enjoy!

Also, feedback – comments, likes, etc. – is always appreciated, my loves.

AO3 link | 1300 miles playlist

_____

The sun is just starting to sink in the sky as Sam and Bucky finish the latest repairs on the boat. Sam has spent the last hour pestering Bucky about things he’s missed over the last 80 years — things he needs to do, shows and movies he needs to watch, music to listen to, places to go. Bucky is considering the consequences of putting his vibranium fist through the new Captain America’s face.

“You’re telling me you’ve never been to New Orleans?” Sam half-shouts at Bucky in amusement.

“Sam, besides the airport, when would I have been to New Orleans?” Bucky sighs.

“We’re going. Tonight.” He stands up. “But none of that Bourbon Street bullshit. I know a place,” he says.

_____

The bar is crowded on a Saturday night, but they manage to find a table near the small stage where a band is setting up.

“I’ll get drinks,” Sam says, heading to the bar.

“Sam said he knows the owners?” Bucky asks Sarah.

“Jo and Danny. Yeah,” Sarah says. “Danny served with Sam on his last tour. Real young kid when he served. Took some shrapnel to the chest and face in an RPG explosion and got out early. He and Sam kept in touch.”

Bucky watches Sam talk to a man with a mop of curly, brown hair and an auburn beard behind the bar. From where he sits, Bucky can see a jagged scar peeking out from the top of the man’s beard over his cheek, stopping just below his right eye.

Sam returns with three beers. "Danny says hi," he tells Sarah. "Says he'll come over when he has a free minute."

"Jo around?" Sarah asks.

Sam nods toward the stage. "She's playing tonight. Danny says she's in the office rewriting the set list."

Bucky sips his beer and looks around. When they entered, there was a wave of enthusiasm as people recognized Sam as Captain America, but it seems to have died down and now no one is paying them much attention. Bucky prefers it that way, though he’s happy that people are excited for Sam.

“Speak of the devil,” Sam says, smiling and nodding toward a woman emerging from a door beside the bar marked ‘Employees Only.’ She’s wearing a loose-fitting white tank tucked into light-wash jeans cuffed just above a pair of black combat boots. Her wavy, dark hair fans out behind her as she rushes towards the stage. She's clutching a piece of paper in one hand, and the smile on her face makes Bucky's heart stutter for a moment.

Sam catches the way Bucky is watching Jo as she jumps onto the stage. He elbows Sarah and nods at the lovestruck look on Bucky's face, and they share a smirk. Bucky doesn't notice the exchange. He's too busy studying Jo. Her arms are covered in tattoos, from shoulders to fingers. When she tucks a strand of hair behind her left ear, Bucky can see the row of piercings adorning the curve of her ear. There's a gold ring between her nostrils. Bucky's seen some of the kids in Brooklyn with that piercing, but he doesn't know what it's called. He's seen plenty of women like her since moving back to New York — with tattoos and piercings and dark hair — but there's something about the combination with her green eyes and soft smile that makes his mouth go dry and his palm sweat.

He takes another sip of his beer to ground himself.

Jo picks up an acoustic-electric guitar from its stand, swings the strap over her shoulder, and plugs the guitar into a small amp at her feet. She raises her right hand in the air and sets a count with her fingers — one, two, three, four. The band starts, and Jo strums the guitar, smiling at the crowd. When she steps up to the microphone and opens her mouth, Bucky is surprised at how sweet her voice sounds. He was expecting it to be rougher, but it's gentle and warm, and he likes the way her mouth looks as it forms the words to the song.

Next to him, Sam taps his foot along to the music. Bucky can't remember the last time he saw a band play live. God, he thinks, it was before the war, before everything. He takes another sip of his beer before Sarah hands him a fresh bottle. He hadn't even noticed that she'd left the table and gone to the bar. He smiles and nods his thanks.

Sarah leans over and whispers to Bucky just loud enough for Sam to hear, as well, "You should ask her out after the show."

Bucky grimaces and shakes his head. As he told Yori once, there's a dance to these things, and he's eighty years out of practice. Plus, his last date didn't exactly go as planned.

But he can't stop staring at Jo's painted black nails and tattooed fingers as they move across the guitar strings. LOVE is written across the top knuckles of her right hand, HATE on the left. A series of lines and dots decorate her lower knuckles. There’s a snake curling around her left wrist, its inked head resting on her hand, and several large peonies cover the back of her right hand and up her forearm. Bucky wonders what her tattooed hands would look like wrapped around his cock. He also wonders where else on her body she has tattoos and what that voice would sound like when he's between her thighs. Fuck.

The band transitions into another song, and Jo's eyes land on Bucky. She's used to people staring at her, especially when she's on stage, but she's caught by the way his eyes never leave her, never wander to look at the band's female bassist or to Sarah sitting next to him. She's certain his stare could burn a hole right through her, and she wouldn't even complain. He’s fucking gorgeous.

She knows who he is, of course. She’s seen the recent footage of him with Sam in New York and read the Times article detailing his move from assassin to almost Avenger. Plus, her twin brother, Danny, was a bit of a history nerd as a kid so she’s definitely seen a Captain America documentary that mentioned the Howling Commandos. And they may or may not have hidden a fugitive Captain America and Falcon following the Accords.

Jo tears her eyes away from the super soldier and focuses on the rest of the audience. She can see Danny behind the bar, flirting with the man he's been trying to sleep with for the past two weeks. She catches his eye and smiles her encouragement between lyrics. Get his number! she tries to say with her eyes. Danny's usually pretty good at reading her mind. She doesn't know if it's a brother thing or a twin thing or just a Danny thing, but when he holds up his phone in surrender and smiles back at her, she knows he got the message.

The first half of their set ends with a crash of drums and a long guitar riff. Jo takes a swig from the mason jar full of water she keeps on stage. Her eyes meet Bucky's again as she swallows, and he licks his bottom lip. Heat curls in the pit of her stomach at the thought of what else that tongue could do.

Willow, the band's bassist, steps over and whispers in Jo's ear, “If you don’t fuck him after the show, I’m going to."

When Jo looks at her, she can see the amusement dancing in Willow's eyes. She rolls her own eyes and avoids looking directly at Bucky for the rest of the set.

_____

After the last song, Jo thanks the crowd and helps the rest of the band tidy up the stage, unplugging amps and turning off the mics. She's still trying not to look at Bucky, even though she can feel his eyes on her.

"You have to stop staring, man," Sam whispers to Bucky.

"I'm not staring," Bucky grumbles.

Sarah laughs, "You're definitely staring."

“Here," Sam says, "I'll introduce you." And before Bucky can protest, Sam is waving Jo over. "Josephine," Sam says, hugging her.

"Samuel," she returns, smiling. "Congrats on the new gig." She punches his shoulder lightly. "Better you than that John Walker douchebag," she says. Bucky snorts, and she catches his eye and smirks before turning to Sarah. "Hey, Sarah." They exchange pleasantries while Bucky tries to get his tongue to turn back from lead.

Sam points at Bucky, "This is—"

Bucky stands. "Bucky. Barnes."

Jo smiles and shakes his gloved hand. "Jo. Landry," she says, matching his cadence.

Sam was right. Bucky can't stop staring at her. This close, he can see there's a bit of gold in the green of her eyes and a slight gap between her two front teeth. She smells like sandalwood and citrus and just a little bit like pot.

Jo returns his stare. His five o’clock shadow doesn’t hide the dimple in his chin, and she briefly imagines pressing her lips against it. She’s trying to name the exact shade of blue of his eyes when Sam clears his throat.

She’s not usually so easily flustered by attractive people, but Bucky's blue eyes and chiseled jaw have done a number on her self-control. “Let me grab a drink,” Jo says, turning quickly.

“No need,” Danny says, appearing in front of her and handing her a glass. He leans in and whispers in her ear, “He’s cute.”

“Please fuck off,” Jo hisses in return, widening her eyes at him. She’s only half-serious, and Danny knows it. It’s a twin thing.

When she looks at Bucky again, he’s smirking, and she wonders if enhanced hearing is a super soldier trait. Bucky pulls out the fourth chair at the small table for her to sit, and Jo can't remember the last time someone did that for her.

"The show was great," Sarah says, grabbing Jo's attention.

"Thanks," Jo replies. "Took a while to get back to it after…” she snaps her fingers but doesn’t finish her sentence.

"You were snapped?" Bucky asks.

Jo nods. "Yeah. You?"

"Yeah."

"Cheers," she says sarcastically, raising her glass in a toast. She shakes her head again and pushes her hair behind her ear. "Five years just," she holds her hands open, "gone. Danny was still here, holding all this together by himself."

She tucks one leg under the other, and her knee bumps Bucky’s beneath the table. When she moves to pull her knee away from his, he places a gloved hand on her thigh, holding her leg in place.

Bucky surprises even himself with this move. He hasn’t been this forward with a woman since an auburn-haired nurse in Italy during the war. With her, it was all hands and mouths and skin on skin because he was certain he was going to die any day. Now he supposedly has all the time in the world. He just isn’t sure what he wants to do with it.

But in this moment, he's comfortable here, in this tiny bar, with a beer in his hand and Jo's knee pressed against his. He's confident that Sam would never introduce him to someone he couldn't trust.

Bucky's flirted with Sarah, sure, but that was mostly to irritate to Sam. And as much as he doesn't want to admit it, the thought of something happening between himself and Sarah and then ending badly and ruining his relationship with Sam makes his stomach hurt. Pursuing Jo seems safer in that regard. She and Sam are friends, but if — when, he thinks — he ruins things, he can just go back to New York instead of losing his only friend.

Jo asks Sarah about AJ and Cass to distract herself from the butterflies forming in her stomach at Bucky’s touch, and Sam starts a story about the boys' latest interests. Bucky is content to listen to the three of them talk, his eyes barely leaving Jo. When she flicks her gaze over to him every now and then, she doesn't seem phased by his staring, and she hasn't pulled her knee away from where it's softly touching his. After a while, Danny emerges from behind the bar and joins their table, introducing himself to Bucky with a firm handshake.

While Danny and Sam trade updates about people they know, Jo leans towards Bucky and asks, “You want another drink?”

“Sure,” Bucky replies.

Jo doesn’t say anything else, just nods her head toward the bar, stands, and offers Bucky her hand. He takes it, the leather glove of his right hand warm against her palm. He wishes he could feel her skin without the gloves between them. He doesn’t usually wear them around Sam and Sarah and everyone in Delacroix, but he wasn’t sure how the metal arm would be perceived at this bar he’s never been to. Sam told him not to worry about it, but Bucky doesn’t like to draw unnecessary attention to himself.

Jo leads him through the sea of tables to a barstool, then moves behind the bar and grabs him a fresh bottle of the beer he's been drinking all night. "Unless you want something stronger," she says, pausing before she hands it to him.

"This is good," Bucky replies.

She pops the top and hands him the bottle. He takes a sip as he watches her maneuver around the bartender on duty to fix herself another whiskey sour before taking a seat on the barstool next to him.

"Full disclosure; because it's only fair," she says, taking a sip of her drink. "I know who you are, Sergeant Barnes. Not the whole story, but bits and pieces."

Bucky pauses. He searches her eyes for the fear he's expecting but finds none. "And you're okay with that?" he asks.

Jo quirks the corner of her mouth up in a half-smile and says, “If Sam trusts you, I trust you."

“I’m not great with meeting new people, and I was telling myself the same thing about you," Bucky admits, almost sheepishly.

“You know we can never tell Sam about this, right?" Jo says, conspiratorially. "We’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Never,” Bucky agrees, and knocks his beer bottle lightly against her glass in understanding.

They talk for a while, just the two of them alone at the end of the bar. Jo asks him how he likes Louisiana ("Hot, but the people are friendly"); where he's staying ("Sarah's"); when he's heading back to New York ("A week from tomorrow"); what he likes to do for fun ("Still figuring that out"); his favorite place ("Wakanda") and favorite book ("The Hobbit"); and a myriad of other questions — some of which Bucky answers easily and some that make him pause. He makes her give her own answers to each one in turn.

Jo leans close to Bucky so she can hear him over the noise of the room, and he takes the opportunity to study her features more closely. He's practically mapped all of her face when her eyes leave his for a brief second and land on Sam, Sarah, and Danny staring at them from the table across the room.

"Don't look now," she whispers, leaning even closer, "But we seem to have an audience."

Bucky makes a big show of looking over his shoulder at the group.

"I said 'don't look!'" Jo laughs and swats casually at his arm.

Bucky takes the opportunity to pin her hand with his own, holding it tightly and licking his bottom lip before smiling at her. He can see the blush paint her cheeks and creep down her neck and chest.

He likes Jo, likes how easy it feels to be around her. He isn't used to that. He isn't used to feeling comfortable with people. Hell, he thinks, I barely feel comfortable with myself. But there's something about Jo that makes him feel safe and calm. Of course, there's attraction there — plenty of it — but he's sure it's more than that.

For her part, Jo is enamored with Bucky. She likes his hard edges and his snark, but she also likes the small glimpses he's given her of the man beneath all of that. She doesn't usually fall for people so easily, but she's found herself drowning in the sea of blues that make up Bucky's eyes, and she doesn't want to be rescued. How fucking cliche, she tells herself.

"We should probably go back over there," Bucky says, squeezing her hand once before releasing it.

They both stand and make their way back to the table. Bucky pulls Jo's chair out for her again, but this time, he makes sure to pull it a little closer to his chair in the process. This doesn't go unnoticed by Sam who smirks at him. Bucky returns the smirk with a thin-lipped smile of his own before scooting even closer to Jo.

Jo finds it hard to focus on the conversation in front of her with Bucky's warm body so close to her own, and she realizes she misses the pleasant feeling of his gloved hand around hers. She places her own hand on his thigh and hopes he gets the hint.

Bucky’s fascinated by even the slightest movements of Jo's tattooed fingers, and when her hand rests on his denim-clad thigh, he thinks the sight alone might kill him. Before he can second-guess himself, he pulls the glove off his right hand and links his own flesh and bone fingers with hers.

Jo doesn't look at Bucky — she's trying not to draw attention to her hand in his lap — but Bucky watches the corner of her mouth quirk upwards into a smile, and he squeezes her hand in response.

The conversation continues a bit longer before Danny leaves the table to check in with his bartender. Jo excuses herself to get another drink, and Bucky watches her pop behind the bar to fill a glass for herself.

"I need to get home, relieve the babysitter," Sarah says when she finishes her beer.

"We're heading out then," Sam says, then turns to Bucky, "You coming?"

Bucky looks toward Jo and says, "No, I'm gonna stick around. I'll get a cab back or get a hotel room in the city."

Sam smirks. "I don't think you're gonna need a hotel room, man."

Bucky rolls his eyes.

"Just promise me you'll use protection," Sam laughs. "We don't need any little super soldiers running around just yet."

Bucky gives him a sarcastic smile, but realizes Sam's probably right, and he definitely doesn't have any condoms in his wallet. He's not planning on sleeping with Jo tonight — he just met her, and he's not sure he's ready for that yet — but if the army taught him anything, it's to be prepared. As if reading his mind, Sam pulls out his wallet and places a condom in Bucky's palm before pulling him in for a hug and clapping him on the back.

"Have fun, man," Sam says.

Sam and Sarah say their goodbyes to Danny and Jo on their way out, and Bucky joins Jo at the bar, sitting on the barstool next to her where they sat earlier.

"Sticking around, soldier?" she asks. She reaches for his dog tags and tugs them gently. The drinks have been strong, and she's feeling more flirtatious than she would otherwise.

"If you don't mind," Bucky replies.

Jo smiles and reaches for his hand this time. "Not at all."

"Are you gonna finish your interrogation of me?" Bucky asks, amusement apparent in his voice.

Jo laughs in return. “I thought I'd read your palm instead," she says, turning his hand over in her own.

Bucky snorts but doesn't pull his hand away. "Is this a trick you use on all the guys?"

"And girls," Jo says, meeting his eyes. Then she studies his hand carefully, running her index finger across the lines that crisscross his palm.

"Your dominant hand," she continues, "determines your future, while your non-dominant hand is tied to your past."

Bucky snorts again at the truth of it all.

"I'm not making this up!" Jo laughs. "I mean, someone did, but I'm not!" She can see the laughter shining in Bucky's eyes, so she goes on, "Your head line is deep, meaning your thinking is clear and focused, but it's also curved downward which indicates a creative spirit and an appetite for literature and fantasy." She looks up at him, "Explains the love for Tolkien."

"I'm not sure I'm buying this," Bucky says.

"You've literally fought aliens, and you're gonna give me a hard time over palm reading," Jo laughs.

"The aliens were real," Bucky deadpans.

"And in New Orleans, palm reading and psychics and crystal balls and voodoo are real," Jo says, still laughing. "But I promise not to read your palm again or read your aura or get out the tarot cards."

Bucky likes the way her slight accent makes New Orleans sound more like Nawlins. He also likes the sound of her laughter and the way her face lights up when she smiles. She's still holding his hand in her own, so he turns his palm over in hers and brings her tattooed knuckles to his lips.

_____

Meanwhile, the bar closes, and Danny and the bartender clean glasses and close up for the night.

Danny points at Jo as he comes around the bar. "I’m locking up then heading upstairs," he says.

"Thanks, love," Jo replies.

Danny walks the bartender out and locks the front door, then retraces his steps to the back of the bar. On his way past Jo, he stops and kisses her on the cheek, saying, "Be good. And set the alarm."

He turns to Bucky. "And you, Sergeant Barnes," he says, pointing at him now, "I know you're an Avenger or whatever, but if you hurt her, I'll kill you."

"Bye, Danny," Jo says, rolling her eyes as he disappears through the door marked 'Employees Only.' "Don't worry about him," Jo says, turning back to Bucky.

“Older brother, right?” Bucky says. He understands; he was an older brother once.

“Twins, actually,” Jo smiles.

Bucky takes a sip of his beer. "Sarah said Danny served with Sam," he says.

"Yeah. Afghanistan. A lifetime ago," Jo says. “He only had one more mission before he could come home so he switched with someone. An RPG barely missed the helicopter he was in, and he was pretty badly injured in the explosion and the resulting crash. Almost lost an eye. He came home, got out of the Air Force, went to business school. Now we own the bar..." She pauses to take the last sip of her drink. "...and the building. Sam's really helped Danny get past everything."

"He's good at that," Bucky says.

"Another thing we can never tell him," Jo laughs.

"Agreed. So, when do I get to ask about your tattoos?" he questions.

"What do you want to know?" she asks.

Bucky licks his bottom lip. "Anything."

He likes her dagger tattoo the best. It’s inked on the inside of her right forearm, nestled amongst the peonies, the hilt facing the crook of her elbow and the knife’s tip pointed toward her wrist. It’s feminine and dangerous and incredibly sexy. She blushes when he tells her how much he likes it. He doesn't tell her it reminds him of one of his favorite knives, currently tucked at the bottom of his backpack back in Sarah's living room.

"In some ways, they're my armor," she explains. "When I'm on stage, people look at the tattoos, not me, and I kind of like that. It lets me be whoever I want to up there."

Bucky understands the desire to hide better than anyone. But she knows who he is so there's really no point in hiding from her any longer. Plus, he feels like his arm is something she would understand, something she could accept — not just because of her brother's military record but because of her own unique body modifications.

He pulls his left glove off and shrugs out of his leather jacket, revealing the vibranium arm beneath his black t-shirt.

Jo takes in the black metal and gold details. "That," she says, pointing to his arm, "is lovely."

"It's lethal," Bucky warns.

She cocks her head to the side and says, "If you're trying to scare me, it won't work, Sergeant Barnes."

Bucky can't stop the corner of his lip from pulling up in the slightest hint of a smile.

"Okay,” she says, placing her palms flat on the bar top. “You want another beer?" she asks.

Jo stands and turns to move behind the bar, but Bucky's vibranium hand on her arm stops her. She looks at him curiously, and he slides his arm behind her back and pulls her flush against his chest. She settles between his open thighs, her palms resting gently on top of his legs. He's staring at her so intensely she's convinced he willburn that hole right through her, but she can't bring herself to look away.

He leans in, his lips only a breath away from hers.

"Can I kiss you?" Bucky finally asks, his flesh hand moving up to cup her cheek.

"Please," Jo whispers, desperately.

Bucky closes the distance between them, and his lips meet hers. He's hesitant at first, but when he feels Jo respond, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing even closer, he runs his tongue along the seam of her lips until she opens them for him. She tastes like bourbon and lemon from the whiskey sours she's been drinking, and Bucky loves it. His tongue sweeps along the roof of her mouth, and Jo moans. Bucky is determined to hear that sound again.

He kisses across the corner of her mouth and over her jaw. The hand that was cupping her cheek moves to her hair to angle her head backwards and give him better access to the bare skin of her neck. He laves his tongue over the corded muscles there, then nips at the skin with his teeth. She moans again, and Bucky is on fire.

Jo's right hand weaves into his short hair and tugs until his mouth comes away from her neck. He catches his breath while Jo nuzzles his nose with her own and places a soft kiss against the Cupid's bow of his upper lip. His eyes meet hers, and her pupils are blown wide with lust.

The need to kiss her again is overwhelming. Bucky’s lips find hers, and Jo somehow leans even closer into his body, her hands tracing down his chest to his waist. Bucky lets his own hands move to Jo’s ribs, resting just beneath her chest, his thumbs teasing the underside of each breast. Jo gasps when Bucky’s right thumb moves across her taut nipple.

Fuck, he thinks, I need to slow down. While he’s shared kisses with the handful of women he’s met on dating apps, he hasn’t done anything this intimate in a lifetime.

Bucky pulls away, panting. He rests his forehead against Jo's and stares into her green eyes.

"I should leave," he says. “I’m getting carried away. I…I want to do this right.”

And he does. Desperately. He wants to buy her flowers and take her out and learn what makes her swoon. But he also wants to map every tattoo on her body with his fingers and tongue and then fuck her until she can’t walk straight.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

Jo laughs breathily. “We don’t have to do anything, but it’s almost three o'clock in the morning and your ride already left. You can sleep on my couch if you want to be a gentleman.”

Bucky groans. “I should be a gentleman."

She kisses him again, lightly, then moves away to set the alarm and turn the rest of the lights out. She leads him through the 'Employees Only' door and up a set of stairs to her apartment.

"You're not allergic to cats, are you?" Jo asks, as she unlocks the door.

"No," Bucky says. As far as he knows, he's not allergic to anything thanks to the knock-off serum, but he doesn't say that.

Inside her apartment, Jo kicks off her combat boots at the door, and Bucky does the same, leaving them both in their socked feet. There's a fluffy black cat sitting on the back of the green velvet sofa.

"That's Toulouse," Jo says. "Or Louie. He doesn't answer to either, so it really doesn't matter what I call him."

The cat regards Bucky with indifference before standing up, stretching, and leaving the room.

"Guest bathroom’s just there,” she nods. “Let me get you some blankets and pillows for the couch," Jo continues. "Unless you've changed your mind about being a gentleman." She smirks at him.

Bucky laughs through his nose. “Don’t tempt me.”

Jo leaves the room for a moment, which gives Bucky a chance to look around. He's standing in her living room; one wall features a set of French doors that lead to a balcony overlooking the street, and the opposite wall holds bookcases stuffed from floor to ceiling with books, framed photographs, and various knick-knacks. From where he stands, he can see a small room with an upright piano and guitars hanging on the walls. The exterior walls of Jo's apartment are brick, and everything else is set in jewel tones. He likes it. It's dark and cozy, and from what he knows of Jo so far, her living space matches her well.

When she returns, Jo is holding a stack of blankets and pillows. She sets them on the ottoman and moves across the room to close the curtains.

"There are some sweats and a t-shirt there that should fit you" she says, turning to Bucky.

"Thanks," Bucky says, smiling softly.

Now that they're here, in her apartment, Bucky isn't sure what he's supposed to do or say. He can still feel the heat of Jo's lips on his, and he's painfully aware that the condom Sam gave him is still in his pocket.

Jo must sense the hesitation rolling off him because she crosses the room to stand in front of him and takes his hands in hers.

"Get some sleep, Sarge," she says, squeezing his hands in tandem before dropping them.

"Goodnight, Jo," Bucky returns.

_____

Bucky lays on Jo's couch in the dark beneath blankets that smell like laundry detergent. He wishes they smelled like her. He unlocks his phone and looks up the distance between New Orleans and Brooklyn. Just over thirteen hundred miles. He sighs and drops his phone onto the coffee table before closing his eyes and reliving each kiss as he falls asleep.

On the other side of the wall, Jo falls across her bed, deflated. She likes this guy. She wants him — painfully so. But leave it to her to fall for the one guy in her bar who lives half-way across the country.

_____

next chapter

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #sergeant barnes #bucky barnes x oc #bucky x oc #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky x ofc #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes romance #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff

30 notes · View notes

katnissmellarkkk · 3 years

Text

Alrightttt, I’m on a roll so we’re going onto chappy five 🥳🥳🥳😎😎

I know the movies made the Capitol — re: basically only Effie and maybe Caesar — have those ridiculous made up accents but .... I actually feel like the description of the Capitol accent in the book is supposed to be like the Kardashians or Paris Hilton’s voice. 🤷🏼‍♀️

“Why do these people speak in such a high pitch? Why do their jaws barely open when they talk? Why do the ends of their sentences go up as if they're asking a question? Odd vowels, clipped words, and always a hiss on the letter s. no wonder it's impossible not to mimic them.” Like this is a pretty good description of how Kim Kardashian and her sisters talk. And Suzzy C did say she was inspired by the juxtaposition between war news footage and ridiculous reality television shows so... I think my theory of the Capitol all talking like they’re on the Real Housewives of LA is pretty valid.

Just imagine Paris Hilton as Effie and Nicole Richie as one of her preps

Lolololol this whole section of waxing is reminding me to go get my legs waxed 😭😭😭 straight up calling me out here, Suzanne

I like how Katniss says her stylist “apparently has no interest in seeing her until the prep team has addressed obvious problems.” Like you can tell from her narration she was expecting to feel the same was about Cinna that she does about Effie and her prep team.

The “gritty loam that takes off dirt and three layers of skin” is probably just a strong exfoliator 😭😭😭 my girl knows nothing about quality skincare 🤧🤧 someone build a Panem Sephora

She mentioned them waxing her underarms.... girl, did you have hairy armpits before this? Idk why this revelation is new to me

“Grease her down!” Just sounds wrong 😅😅😅😅 I need to stop being annoying omg I’m like a twelve year old

Hmm it’s funny to me that Katniss refers to Octavia as plump. You’d think in a place like the Capitol body image and weight would be very important. Unless it’s like back in the old, old days when being overweight was a sign of wealth. Which would make more sense so this was an unnecessary thought process curtesy of Samantha

Katniss faking a smile and thanking her prep team shows she does know how to play the game and fake it better than she says.

So ... okay, hear me out, I’m not trying to get over the top or make this into something it’s not but ... the whole stylists / Cinna coming into the room and staring at her naked is a little weird. Especially considering Cinna isn’t Lenny Kravitz who’s like a bit older than her but actually like a twenty-something year old dude.

But okay, here’s the thing I was getting at ... Cinna’s one of the best people in this series and you can’t deny that. Even if you find him boring, he’s still one of Katniss’ closest people. Also he’s probably gay. But like ... what about the other stylists? I don’t wanna be that person who makes everything more than it is, but like, this scene just sounds like a perfect opportunity for some Capitol creep to assault a teenager idk I’m probably making a mountain out of a molehill just ignore Samantha okay.

That’s nice that he complimented her mama though 🥰🥰🥰

So Katniss calls District Twelve the least desirable district but ... doesn’t District Eleven suck too? Like she also later says District Twelve is the smallest and the poorest but doesn’t she also say Rue is worse off than her and Prim? Make up your mind, Suz.

Cinna claims he asked for District Twelve but did he really get an option? 😅 If it’s his first year and Katniss claims the newbies get them anyway 🤷🏼‍♀️ Samantha is once again, reading too much into this.

Awww, Katniss is thinking about how long it would take for her to assemble this fancy meal at home 🤧🤧🤧 it would take her days and the Capitol just has the necessary resources at their disposal and they just takes it for granted. And yes, I’m aware this is supposed to be calling all us readers out who take so much for granted I know. We’re the Capitol.

“How would I spend the hours I now commit to combing the woods for sustenance if it were so easy to come by?” It’s honestly so sad but so vital to her character that Katniss has zero hobbies or real free time. Her life is about surviving. She doesn’t get to live or enjoy very much of her time. She dedicates everything to keeping Prim — and her mother — alive, sacrificing everything a teenage girl should be doing. Sacrificing even the things the other girls in her world get to do. She mentions the merchant girls and the Seam girls who are more experienced romantically and sexually and socially than her. Because she doesn’t get to be a kid or innocent or even happy, in order to focus on her and her family’s survival. And the things she does enjoy, like spending time with Gale or dancing with Prim (mentioned in Mockingjay) she downplays in case they’re taken away, because nothing good is secure in her eyes. 🥺🥺🥺

Okay but what did Katniss’ facial expression give away that Cinna knew exactly what she was thinking? Or is she just less emotionless than she and Haymitch both claim? Ironically I think they’re the only people who call her emotionless which can easily be chalked up to their self-hate and terrible self-esteems.

Katniss is so afraid they’re gonna make her be naked for the parade 😭. Honestly though they’re children that’s so creepy that they’re even allowed to make 15/16/17 year olds be naked in a parade. I mean I know they kill kids every year but isn’t there like child pornography laws in Panem? 😭

“You’re not afraid of fire, are you, Katniss?” Is so foreshadowing 😭😂😅😎 Caesar Flickerman’s voice “Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire!”

Honestly though Cinna is smart to make Katniss recognizable in the arena by leaving her with simple makeup. I know and the sky is blue we all know this already beating the dead horses until the farmer comes home.

“It crosses my mind that Cinna's calm and normal demeanor masks a complete madman.” It’s true though 😅😅😅😭😭 he was always a rebel. I actually think he may have asked for District Twelve after Katniss volunteered, because he saw the potential in her. Poor Peeta. Baby, I’m rooting you for even if no one else is.

Also I always found it a bit .... curious? That Peeta had a female stylist and Katniss had a male one? Not just because of the required nudity, you’d just think men would do better as a boy’s stylist and a woman would make a better girl’s stylist. So yes, my whole Cinna was interested in District Twelve because Katniss seemed like a good symbol for a rebellion idea seems very plausible.

I know I know I know I read wayyy too much into this stuff sometimes a cigarette 🚬 is just a cigarette 🚬

Katniss being relieved when Peeta shows up 😭😭😭 because even if she won’t admit it and even if she won’t let herself trust him, she still sees him unconsciously and completely against her will as a comfort because they’re in this thing together in a way, even if they’re supposed to try and kill each other

And honestly, it’s such a like... relatable feeling? To feel alone and nervous and uptight and then someone who you recognize — even if you maybe aren’t even friends with but you at least know — shows up and you just instantly feel less alone. I’m totally looking at this through shipper goggles and I’m not even ashamed you all knew who’s blogging you were reading ight? 😂🤣🤷🏼‍♀️

“He should know about fire, being a baker's son and all.” And he’s gonna learn a lot more about it when he falls in love — for real, falls in love, not a childhood infatuation — with the girl on fire. 🥰🥰🥰

But also, I love this particular line on a reread because it totally is an indicator towards their future. Like Peeta knows about fire, he’s experienced with how to handle it, and later on, he becomes the only person who truly comes to understand Katniss, who represents fire, in a way that no one else could ever imagine.

Hmmm, Katniss’ point of view here, talking about how Portia and Peeta’s team seem all giddy and air-headed and it’s only Cinna who seems reserved makes me rethink my previous imaginings of Peeta’s stylist. Maybe she’s just a Capitolite idiot and nothing like Cinna. And my baby got a raw deal here then too. Good thing Haymitch loves him more. Just kidding 😅😅😅

But also I wanna know why Cinna is hesitant to accept congratulations for his and Portia’s idea? Wasn’t he at least lowkey excited about it when he pitched it a page ago?

Their horses are coal black 🐴 😅. I like that they went the whole nine yards with the theme. Nothing but the best for the kids on Death Row.

Aww Katniss asking Peeta what he thinks about being set on fire is so sweet and pure for some reason. I just find their commodore here cute ok

“I'll rip off your cape if you'll rip off mine” this is literally their first friend type of interaction and it’s so pure y’all leave me be I’m emotional for them

🙃 Also lowkey reminds me of “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Everyone look away ok I’m sorry

Peeta’s shady/annoyed Haymitch comment and Katniss’ joke at his expense 🤣🤣😂🤣😂😂🥲🥲☺️🥲🥲 they’re bonding it’s so presh

“And suddenly we're both laughing.” I hope they laugh a lot together post-canon 🥲🥲🥲. If they can make the other laugh during their terrible circumstances, then they can make the other laugh anywhere. 🤧 Except in Thirteen because he’s hijacked and she’s certifiable and they’re both so used and abused and 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Okay I have to say, Suzanne Collins really builds up a lot for certain events and then just like grazes over the actual action of said event? Like she builds towards the tribute parade but then kind of rushes through off the actual event itself? It’s a common theme in her writing. And I don’t like it at all ngl.

Oh wait she doesn’t actually rush the parade events the paragraph before just looked like she was about to I jumped the gun 🤣😂🤭 but what I said is still completely true for many events in these books sorry not sorry

I’m definitely reading too much into it but the fact that District One — the favorite of the Capitol — gets snow white horses and District Twelve gets coal black horsies kind of ... seems to imply something .... 🤭

Cinna just lets out a sigh of relief “it worked” like ... way to fill your tributes with hope, dude. “Yeah, you’re totally safe, don’t be scared-OH THANK GOD THAT WORKED I wasn’t actually sure you wouldn’t blow up.” But actually this answers my previous inquiry about why he seemed hesitant I guess he wasn’t even sure this wouldn’t burn them up that’s nice 🤭🙃

It’s a literal trial by fire *cue drum hit* 🥁 aww, I just cracked myself up 😭

“Then he gently tucks a hand under my chin. "Remember, heads high. Smiles. They're going to love you!" This is caught halfway between being very Capitol-y and very father-brotherly and idk which way to take it but it’s kind of cute 🤭

“For the first time, I look at him and realize that ablaze with the fake flames, he is dazzling.” This is such a significant line because Katniss isn’t saying Peeta is technically good looking (like when Haymitch said they were decently attractive) or someone else thinks he’s good looking (i.e Gale, her mother and lowkey Finnick) but she’s saying she herself thinks he’s attractive. Girl, your crush is showing.

"I think he said for us to hold hands," says Peeta.” I’m sure Cinna actually did say that but this just seems like a very good opportunity for Peeta to hold the hand of the girl he has a massive crush on. 😭😭😭

Okay Cinna gave a thumbs up so he actually was saying that but can you imagine Peeta’s excitement right now?

I mean, yeahhhh, there’s the certain death looming over him too but like live in the moment, babe. 🥰😘🤗👌🏻

I like that Katniss says the crowd is at first like 😳😳😳 before they start cheering like they’re thinking “what are these backwoods, hillbilly kids doing this year?”

“At first, I'm frozen, but then I catch sight of us on a large television screen and am floored by how breathtaking we look. In the deepening twilight, the firelight illuminates our faces” okay they both have to be pretty naturally attractive people objectively, because you illuminate my face without much makeup and no one is gonna be cheering.

“Remember, heads high. Smiles. They're going to love you! I hear Cinna's voice in my head. I lift my chin a bit higher, put on my most winning smile, and wave with my free hand.” I wonder what the true difference is for Katniss between Cinna and Effie saying this to her? Maybe it’s that Effie is just outright mean to her sometimes whereas Cinna shows her nothing but kindness from the start and expresses sympathy and understanding? It’s probably that he’s already earning her trust versus Effie who’s just cruel I’m not over her comments on the train ok

“I'm glad now I have Peeta to clutch for balance, he is so steady, solid as a rock.” Right from the start, Katniss refers to Peeta as solid and steady. Idk, I feel like this is something that the movies really misses along the way. Katniss wasn’t always strong or confident at all and Peeta, at least publicly, exuded those qualities pretty well. Samantha’s complaining again ™️ 💁🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️

Also this is just outright foreshadowing how Peeta will eventually become her rock. Or that he will be soon painted a rock ... pick and choose which way you wanna go with this. 🤷🏼‍♀️💁🏼‍♀️😅🤣

“As I gain confidence, I actually blow a few kisses to the crowd.” Okay, see I feel like Peeta really gives Katniss confidence in herself. If he’d been there in District Thirteen and they’d done propos together, she probably would have been a thousand times better.

But also this makes me think Katniss actually has it in her to be a charismatic, confident, alluring celebrity. She just chooses not to. 🤗🤗🤗

But this also reminds me of “She has no idea the effect she can have” okay imma move on and stop focusing on every little detail

I say that every chapter 🤧😅

“The pounding music, the cheers, the admiration work their way into my blood, and I can't suppress my excitement.” Say whatever you want, Katniss is still such a girl underneath it all. She gets excited over people liking her and cheering her on. And I know it’s because it increases her chances of getting sponsors but still

Honestly Peeta trying to showcase Katniss and let her take the spotlight is so selfless and indicative of his ultimate plan to help her win but also ... I can see how Katniss would believe it’s too good to be true and he’s messing with her. That he’s just playing the game to earn her trust, get her guard down and manipulate her later.

See, Peeta is actually framed at the start like the typical, standard YA love interest turned villain. In majority of YA books, at this point the boy is kind and sweet and helpful to the girl until she trusts him completely and then he turns on her and uses everything she gave him to destroy her. But the difference is, Katniss refuses to truly trust him and she is guessing his game incorrectly at every step. And then it’s revealed that it was never a game and he truly isn’t messing with her and everything he’s done that’s seem too good to be true and not even remotely plausible has actually been genuine and heartfelt and that, my friends, is why Peeta is above all other YA love interests. Because Everlark is actually the foil to many of the cliches. That was a long speech over some incoherent thoughts I’m so sorry if you suffered through that.

“It's not until we enter the City Circle that I realize I must have completely stopped the circulation in Peeta's hand. That's how tightly I've been holding it.” Awww he is her rock 😭🤧🥺

"No, don't let go of me," he says. The firelight flickers off his blue eyes. "Please. I might fall out of this thing." Okay this part is so cute and so blatantly setting Peeta up as her main love interest omg 😅 this isn’t the least bit subtle or disguised. But first off, the fact that Katniss is also Peeta’s stability here too 😭😭😭 and second of all, she takes time to notice his blue eyes against the firelight? She was attracted to him from the very start, y’all. That’s indisputable. 👌🏻😎🤧

“It's not really fair to present us as a team and then lock us into the arena to kill each other.” I agree with you, baby, it’s not fair at all. But you two take care of that situation nicely. Or not. Y’all do start a dang war. 🤭🤭🙃🙃

It’s rather ... ironic that it’s District Twelve’s chariot of them all that is pulled up and stopped directly in front of President Snow’s mansion. I know it’s a book, certain details like this are definitively contrived, I know get over it. 🤦🏼‍♀️💁🏼‍♀️

So uh. Snow is a small thin man? Why do I suddenly imagine Danny Devito as Snow 😅😅😅😅🤣🤣🤣🤣 y’all know he’d kill the role

“The darker it becomes, the more difficult it is to take your eyes off our flickering.” Okay, this is such a great line and it’s so significant to the rest of the series? The fact that Katniss — and Peeta, let’s not forget our boy — became symbols of the revolution. Like this line is deep if you think about it. The worse things in Panem got, the more the civilians looked towards Katniss and Peeta for hope 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥰🥰🥰🥰

Omg now after Songbirds and Snakes, we know the national anthem. I’m sorry, babies, that you have to endure that I’ll get you out of there 🙉🙉🙉

I feel like in part, the Capitol camera crew — Cressida, Pollux .... Pollux’s brother... is that you here???? — put so much attention on District Twelve because it would create some resentment and competition between them and the careers 🤭🤗

“I notice a lot of the other tributes are shooting us dirty looks, which confirms what I've suspected, we've literally outshone them all.” Insert Gretchen Wieners “I can’t help that I’m popular!” 😅😅😅😅😅

“I realize I'm still glued to Peeta and force my stiff fingers to open. We both massage our hands.” — they were hanging on so tight 😭😭😭😭

“Thanks for keeping hold of me.” He’s so sweet ☺️☺️☺️ I love him even if he’s kind of an idiot sometimes but so is Katniss so let’s not point fingers

“I'm sure they didn't notice anything but you. [...] And then he gives me a smile that seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness” Omg I know Katniss views this as him trying to manipulate her but the fact that he’s actually just admitting the way he’s felt for years is so 😭😭😭😭 if only you’d spit it out sooner, Bready

“he gives me a smile that seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushes through me.” She literally has a crush on her fellow tribute and her first line of defense is to decide he out to get her for making her feel this way 🤣😭🙃

“The more likable he is, the more deadly he is.” The more my crush grows, the more deadly he becomes. I know I’m reading this with shipper goggles but guess what? I’m unashamed. 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️ who feels guilty for reading this book with an Everlark bias not this girl right here 🙋🏼‍♀️🙋🏼‍♀️🙋🏼‍♀️

“I stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek. Right on his bruise.” Okay first off, she says cheek here but according to a chapter ago, she claimed the mark was on his jaw... so in other words, she’s incredibly short. If a medium height guy has a bruise on his jaw and she has to stand on her tip toe to reach it... well... hashtag LittleKatniss

And second off.... can you even imagine how Peeta must feel. He genuinely complimented her here, the girl he has had a crush on forever, and she responds by kissing his cheek. He was probably really happy at this moment. And also this probably played further into his buying into her false display in the arena. That here we have her clutching his hand, smiling and laughing with him and kissing his cheek. Idk what I was trying to say necessarily but I made myself sad wow way to go me 🥺🥺🥺🥺🤧🤧🤧

Anyways! Those are my very over the top and too detailed thoughts! Hope you enjoyed if you read this! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳😎😎😎😎😎😎😎🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

#thgagain #once again the Jen gifs are still headlining these posts 🥳🥳🥳#this isn’t as funny as my others so I’m sorry y’all #but I like nice commentary on these posts makes me feel less alone so feel free

38 notes · View notes