#so one of them suggested we could go on a trip to berlin over a weekend in october and 'get drunk and party'

[shqvambacu]

The Edge Of A Beg | 2 | Jamie Cook

warning: some cursing and that’s it

──────────────────

I hate how selfish Connor is. I hate that he is always late, and how it always discredits our presentations. I hate that he's not here today and every other day, and how upset it makes me.

Today, the meeting is terrible. I suggest some ideas about the promotion of albums soon to be released, and I earn a few weak smiles. Not only can I lose my job, but the artists we work for could turn against us too. Where have all my bright ideas gone?

It's been a few days since the incident with Jamie, and I haven't seen him since. Usually, I notice him in the hallways, but nothing. Not even a sticky note on my computer screen saying how ugly my dress looks. I can't even slap him for the ugly bruise on my hip. It looked alright on Tuesday night, but there's a gross shade of blue forming on my flesh.

But I'm not focused on him—he's a side detail. I need to call Connor again and beg him to come with me one last time. He will get upset, obviously, but he was the one telling me this crazy idea could work. He won't leave me on my own, not after every effort we've made the past few months. I'll just tell him—

"Take this upstairs."

I stop my temporary mental breakdown to glance up at John, the man harassing me with administrative papers from nine to five. He is standing there with the stack of papers outstretched in my direction, a look that says don't mess with me in his eyes. He still hasn't understood that I'm not his intern anymore and that my job is more valuable than his. I could easily get him fired if I wanted to.

Plus, there are a few colleagues near enough who could do the job, so why is he targeting me again? He could ask anyone in the office.

"What a shame, I was about to leave," I instantly lie, flashing my best fake-disappointed pout.

His voice is throaty and cold. "C'mon, don't tell me you have someone waiting for you out there. They need to sign the papers right now. It's for the committee."

I sigh, ignoring the undertone of his words. Since the announcement of Connor's departure two days ago—some kind of professional trip to Berlin he has been vague about—everyone has seen how it affects me. I spend more time wandering through the cubicles with a vanilla coffee in hand than calling radio stations to promote Bad Girl, the band we've both been assigned to deal with. We haven't even met them anyway, and Connor doesn't seem to realise they could become a big deal. I can easily picture them singing in front of thousands of people. Planning a fictional future is easier than contemplating the present.

It's been ten months since I begged Dad to take me in. I'm not dumb; advertising has always been my thing and I knew I'd do just great, despite what some might say. Presenting projects before crowded rooms don't worry me that much. The only thing that truly worries me is people saying I'm not worth this job. That I don't need it.

Now, if I can't go to the New Year's dinner and all these sacrifices become useless, I'll lose it. I'll probably lose Connor too, but some part of my mind tells me it's fine. After all, working here have some advantages. I just have to find them.

It's fine. Everything is just fine.

That's what I keep repeating to myself as I eventually gather the files and start towards the door, my feet dragging heavily. Somehow, for the stupidest reasons, I'm always checking that a car isn't going to crash into me. I do it even inside the office; that's how much it startled me.

I walk over to the lift just as it is opening to let a handful of people out. I stand inside for less than a minute and the metallic doors slide open again, revealing a long hallway with see-through cubicles, clearly classier than the ones downstairs. Classier than mine for sure. I know nobody could compete with the dead plant and the one picture of my dog on the side of the old computer's screen.

I make my way towards the office at the end of the hallway, the one with a silver inscription on the door. Most of the time, my boss is on the phone. I learnt to do what I need to do and not care about him anymore.

So, I practically collapse into the door as I push it with my shoulder, only realising it was already half-opened when my body stumble awkwardly inside, nearly crashing into somebody's back.

"Shit, sorry," I mutter, getting a hold of myself as the victim swivels around, his blue eyes meeting mine. Falling over him would be a nightmare.

"Already pissed? It's not even ten."

Ignoring him and my boss' look, I set the papers on the desk and step aside.

I should have waited a few more minutes before going. Why didn't I fucking wait?

Jamie sends me a few glances but I focus my attention on the strips on my boss' suit. Another body is standing next to him, but I don't have the guts to look up.

I didn't know he was here today.

"...and promoting them would benefit us more. That's what I care about. Not how it is done. Alright?"

Mumbles of "yeah, yeah" echo in the room, and the grey-haired man repeats a small, "Alright." My eyes snap back up when he calls for my name, as if remembering why I'm here in the first place.

"What's this?"

"Oh," I finally speak up, "something for the committee. I don't know."

Narrowing his eyes at me for a second, my boss finally gives up. "Tour the office yourself. Get it signed by everyone and come back when you're done."

Okay. I'm still an intern to him too.

"Sir, I'm sorry but I'm busy with these—"

"Thank you," he emphasises without even sparing me a glance, shutting me up for good.

I swallow an insult and turn towards the two men waiting there. Alexander shoots me a friendly smile as Jamie wears his usual 'I'm going to ruin your life for fun' look. I want to punch him where it hurts until he stops.

The others in their small group are nice. Polite, even. They always say hello and sometimes one of them stays with me while they wait for the others upstairs. Alexander even paid for my lunch once. Matthew and Nicholas are usually lazing around on their desk chair, their suit jacket open or lacking, cracking a joke when they notice me in their surroundings. We're not close enough to be considered mates, but chatting with them is always nice.

All of that is fun until it's about him.

The teasing was fun at first. I met Jamie when I started working here and he was kind. Funny sometimes. It wasn't rare to find ourselves in the break room at the same time. It was almost as if he did it on purpose, just to get a coffee first and annoy me. He joked about himself and I caught myself laughing with him a few times. I think he got me under some kind of fucked up spell.

Everyone loves him here. I'm not so sure about me. They used to be a little warmer when they ignored my father is their boss.

Back when Connor and I presented our first social media idea in the conference room, I was properly introduced to everyone. It was simple: boosting the band's media until their new album, making them famous on every platform and organising live videos. We'd prepared a few slides to explain the process, all clean and professional. That day, the room was full and completely silent. I saw the welcoming smiles as soon as I stopped talking, cheeks flushing with my heart leaping in my chest. It wasn't stress, perhaps just pride.

I got embarrassed when I felt Connor's protective hand lowering on my back, and that was when I met Jamie's gaze for the first time. He was still a stranger at that time, but I'd seen in his eyes that he was different.

Not like in fairy tales.

More like 'pissing-off-everyone' kind of different, and I was his next target.

I still offered him a small and awkward smile, letting out a long sigh of relief when the door separated me from these people again.

Everything is different now. Some teams have moved upstairs, including the four guys, and they all quite physically changed. I guess I changed too.

Jamie's the one who told the two floors about my supposed kiss with my colleague Evan. Just 'for the joke'. It was so dumb that I called the band he was dealing with during lunch and cancelled all their interviews for the following weeks. One thing I'd learnt pretty early was revenge.

That day, I almost got fired. The next day, it was somehow settled, and I just had some kind of professional warning from my boss who couldn't care less.

Jamie had a look that could have killed me the next few days, and it was reciprocated. Two could play a game, and I wouldn't be the one to let a man get in my way.

Now trudging to the desks on the right, I glance at the dark sky through the window. It's raining again, and I can barely make out the soft golden light of the street lights as the darkness come earlier and earlier each day.

The endless sounds of the phones ringing are stressful.

"You've got summat in your hair."

My head snaps towards the intruder's voice with a stupid accent. I groan internally when I find Jamie coming over beside me, my hand going up in my hair only to find it smooth like usual.

"My bad, it's just a big knot," he adds in a whisper, following me to the first desk.

I roll my eyes, ignoring the sudden urge to throw something, anything at his face. He could at least apologise for what happened in the parking lot. Of course, he won't.

"You cut yours," I simply say, opening the first door of the private offices.

"You like it?"

"No."

I do. To be honest, I liked his old hair too. They were long, almost wavy. Now they are cut short and he shaved, and he looks like a model for some shampoo ad. He doesn't really need my compliments though, so I keep my mouth shut.

"Shame," I hear him mutter.

"Hi," I smile over at the brunette looking up from her computer screen, "can you sign this?"

It's so silent in here. I can't tell if it's relaxing or creepy.

"Hi," she beams, and her smile widens when she notices Jamie, absently twisting her pen between her fingers. "Hi, Jamie. You alright?"

"Yeah. I am," the idiot smiles back, taking in the lack of decoration.

"Me too. All good."

God. "Okay, everyone's good. Can you just sign?" I press, standing closer.

Almost snatching the sheet from her when she's done scribbling what looks like her name above a wave, I thank her quickly and ask the same to the man sitting next to her. I've never seen him before, and he looks old for the team. He doesn't look like he purposefully listens to the music they have to promote.

Luckily he executes without a question. When I turn around, I stumble into Jamie's chest again.

"Can you not stand there?" I hiss, my grip on the papers tightening. They could melt under my fingers, and I wouldn't even notice.

With a closed-lips smile, he shifts to the side and I get out of the space. I do this ridiculous tour of the offices for about an hour, taking my time. When I get to Matthew and the others—the most animated room—I feel a bit lighter.

If someone told me they were only here to play games on their computers or criticise the music, I would totally believe them.

And if I was that mean woman Jamie thinks I am, I would have told someone about it. It's proof that I'm a good human being.

They all look up at me, even Jamie who is back behind his desk. "I need autographs," I joke, wiggling the papers in my hand and handing them to Nicholas first.

The curly-haired man huffs a laugh and grabs a pen on Matthew's desk. "Need a selfie too?"

I shake my head, letting out a small laugh. "I'm fine, thanks."

Nicholas slides the paper over to Matthew and settles further in his rolling chair, looking up at me while his friend reads it.

"How's your band doing?"

"Bad Girls?" I ask, and he nods. "Well, they're trying hard in the punk side of things. But they have a great media presence, so I think we'll manage to get them a wider audience soon. I just wish they would call me themselves. It's a bit lonely from my side, y'know."

Connor's help would be much appreciated.

"No Pity is the best band we've promoted, right Al?" Nicholas' eyes shift to his other mate, typing on his keyboard.

When he hears his surname, Alexander looks up at us, pushing away a strand of hair covering his eyes. "They're amazing. Nice sound and all. It's a shame they've considered taking a break."

"How many followers?" I smile back at him, ready for the challenge. He knows I always ask that, since my bands always have more followers than his.

"What does it matter?" Jamie cuts in, and I want to throw him out of the window the second he speaks. "It's not reality, is it?"

Alexander leans forward to grab the sheet of paper and signs up. An opportunity to stay out of the drama, maybe.

"But you can't deny it helps the bands develop their audience," I reply instantly, annoyed that he interrupted my weekly banter with the people I enjoy the most in here.

"At what cost? We don't need the pointless scandals or whatever happens."

Sensing the debate coming, the three other men resume their work and chat between themselves. Without realising, I've edged closer to Jamie's workspace. His cup of tea is half empty, and there's still his Black Sabbath notebook on the left side of his keyboard. I'm sure it's covered in dust.

"It doesn't happen when you do your job correctly."

Someone whistles behind me. Our gazes lock across the desk, and his expression remains the same. When I think it hardens, I notice his eyes softening almost curiously.

And finally noticing he has taken the sheet and is not doing anything, my eyes narrow at him.

"Can you sign?" I ask, talking to him like a moron.

His luminous eyes widen just a smidge and he lets out a scoff, visibly amused. "Can I?"

"Oh fucking hell, just do it," I sigh in despair, taking another step closer.

Jamie reaches for his pen, looking up at me like he's only waiting for one thing.

"I wanna dropkick you in shark-infested waters and laugh at your face."

I didn't mean to say it out loud, but then I hear Nicholas cackling behind me, followed by Matthew. Alexander's laughter is the loudest.

I bite my tongue to prevent myself from insulting him further. After all, I have no right to disrespect him. I just need to ignore him like all the other flirty singers who try to get something out of me.

He will get bored of it eventually.

With a glance behind me—probably to his friends—Jamie laughs to himself and scribbles down his name and signature. He doesn't even bother to read the whole thing.

He has other things to do, like taking five breaks a day and plaguing the whole building with his presence. Idiot.

After he's done I take the papers again and check that nothing is missing.

Nicholas Edward O'Malley, Jamie Robe- Robert?

I hold back a laugh, and I end up snorting a not so lady-like laugh. I need to write that down somewhere.

Jamie cocks an eyebrow, confused by my sudden amusement. I don't give him the satisfaction of acknowledging him again. I've done the mistakes too many times already.

"All good for me, thanks," I smile up at the lads, making my way outside the room and its weird smell, a mix of ink and beer. I'm almost certain they're hiding alcohol in their drawers. It's even surprising they're always assigned the most famous bands.

My amusement doesn't last long though. As soon as I'm back behind my computer screen, my eyes are staring into the void, humming some song stuck in my mind and rocking my rolling chair from side to side.

I see Tommy at his desk, his eyes set on Keira. I know I have to set them up.

Peeling a pink post-it note from the stack—pink is the colour for my romantic projects—I scribble their names down and think about what could bring them together.

When I'm done brainstorming for the first time today, the big event comes back to my mind.

My Dad used to say I was destined for something bigger than an office job, but I still want to prove to him that I'm working here because I can, and I deserve it. I actually like this job and I can picture myself managing a team very well. Last but not least, I could fire Jamie myself. Look deep into his pretty blue eyes and say 'it's over'.

I truly need to find someone who's willing to go and will accept me as their date. I can only think of a few men who don't scare me that much, and who won't get on my nerves.

At 4:58 on Friday, I make my decision.

[natache]

Ita Rina

First and Forgotten Yugoslav Film Star who provocated Gestapo

Ita Rina was born on 7 July 1907 in the small town of Divača (then Austro-Hungarian Empire, later Yugoslavia, now Slovenia) as Italina Lida Kravanja. She was called Ida Kravanja for short. She was named after a journalist Finzi Haydée, Jewish family friend from Trieste. The first daughter of Jožef a railroad worker and Marija Kravanja, Rina had a younger sister Danica. Shortly after the outbreak of the World War I, the family moved to Ljubljana, where Rina matriculated in 1923. She was not a good student; she repeated the third grade of elementary school. However, her dream was to be an actress.

In October 1926, Slovenski narod (Slovenian People) magazine organized a beauty pageant, and Rina entered the competition. She was crowned Miss Slovenia and was to travel to the final event for Miss Yugoslavia, which was supposed to be held on 20 December 1926 in Zagreb. However, her mother did not want to let her go to Zagreb. After a group visit from the Slovenian delegation, Marija Kravanja relented. Unfortunately, when Rina arrived in Zagreb, the jury was already choosing the most beautiful of three finalists. She was, however, noticed by Adolf Müller, the owner of Balkan Palace cinema in Zagreb. He immediately sent her photographs to German film producer Peter Ostermayer. As her mother did not want to let her go to Berlin, Rina ran away from home.

Her escape was enabled by a family friend, a painter Alojz Malota and his wife Hedvig Šarc. They invited her to come with them on a trip to Austria, and instead she went to Berlin. She has said that she felt very lonely and scared during the train ride and thought about returning home.

“That was my longest and hardest journey. I huddled myself in a corner of a coupe and looked around myself in fear. I only knew few words in German...”

Rina arrived in Berlin in 1927. Shortly after she had her first audition, following which she had classes in acting, diction, dancing.

"They would shine a spotlight on me" she later said "cameras would buzz. There were cables everywhere. Some complete strangers would stare at me, whispering amongst themselves. They told me to scream, to laugh, wave and cry. I think I looked most natural in scenes where I was crying. All I had to do was remember how far away from home I've gone and how I've deceived my mother."

"You don't know how to walk!" a director was yelling. I've dedicated all my strength on walking as gracefully as possible, and I thought to myself "how's it possible that I, who have climbed Triglav thrice, all of sudden am incapable of walking." I must admit, first few steps on film were harder than any danger definitely mountaineering.

After several small film roles in 1927 and 1928, the critics finally noticed her in the 1928 film The Last Supper. The same year, Rina met at a Yugoslav embassy party, her future husband Miodrag Đorđević, a shy engineering student from Belgrade, son of a general director of the Royal Post Office.

He asked her out to dinner in a little more upscale restaurant. What he would find out later is that his students account was not enough to pay for the meal. He went to the phone in an attempted to call a friend who could lend him money. Ita figured out what was going on, and since she was already rich, secretly passed him a few bank notes, to spare him the embarrassment. She always liked him, and they understood each other well.

 

Around that time newspapers in Yugoslavia started to sensationalize her love life, as a counter she published an open letter.

Cenjeni g. urednik!

Vsikdar sem bila ljubeznjiva napram g. dopisniku Vašega lista. Želela sem na ta način izražati simpatije, ki sem jih gojila do “Vremena”. Toda nežentlementski dopis Vašega dopisnika od 15. t. m. je zlorabil to mojo ljubeznivost in me prisilil, da Vas naprošam zaradi istine za uvrstitev naslednjih vrstic: Prišla sem domov na oddih, da se pripravim za bodoče delo, ne pa da se zaljubljam kakor goska. Zaradi tega ne potrebujem nikakih senzacij, zlasti pa ne senzacij, ki gredo preko meja dopustnega. Čudim se prostosti, ki si jo jemlje g. Ambrož, da izmišlja kar imena mojih idealov. Prava senzacija bi bila šele, ko bi g. Ambrož nekoliko srečneje uganil moje ideale. Kar pa piše g. Ambrož, je bilo doslej meni in vsem mojim znancem docela neznano. Odpotovala bom tedaj, ko me pokliče novo delo. Senzacijonalni odhod avtomobilov itd. je prosta glupost. 

Da končam. Žal mi je, da se je edini g. O. Ambrož smatral za najpametnejšega od vseh tukajšnjih novinarjev in da je segel po tako nehvaležnem poslu. Naši javnosti je treba servirati resnico o mojem delu in moji osebi, ne pa glupih izmišljotin. Prejmite g. urednik izraze itd.

Ita Rina.

Her breakthrough into European stardom came after taking a role in a controversial film Erotikon by a Czechoslovakian director Gustav Mahaty. As soon as she read the script about a seduced and then abandoned daughter of a guard of a railroad station, she understood it as her big chance, and she was right.

Erotikon premiered in Prague. Czechoslovakian censors cut out the scene of her giving birth to a child, but the movie garnered great success with film critics and audiences across Europe. At the premiere in Paris in Moulin Rouge and the film goers carried her out of the theatre on their hands.

The films success angered the puritans. Especially the french catholic theologian, abbot Betteleme who wrote: "... First, they lie next to each other, and then one to another ... It is true that the cover hides their figures, but it certainly does not hide their movements... The protagonists are shown in particularly long shots, especially Ita... A viewer can recognize her excitement, then her expression of anxiety mixed with longing, then the pain and at the end... I blush while describing the scenes". He went though streets of Paris tearing down the posters that were plastered all over. That only raised the popularity of the film.

In 1930, Rina acted in three films, most notable being the first talking Czechoslovakian film Tonka of the Gallows, which is often named her best role. Meanwhile, she married Miodrag Đorđević in 1931. Although she had announced her retirement from her film career, but she actually continued her acting until the outbreak of World War II. Her last prewar film was crime drama Zentrale Rio.

The situation in Germany was getting tense, especially for anybody who was considered undesirable which included actors who were foreign. She left Germany on the insistence of the then ambassador of Yugoslavia Ivo Andrić. In 1939, very close to the start of WW2 every time she went to work or went home, there was a man who sat in the car. In the beginning he was very quiet and she thought he was an assistant of the producer and that he might represent some new custume, a way of saying thanks to the actors. And then he spoke. At first there were talks of the superiority of the German race, but later his changes because more apparent. "I argued with him in that car" she told to the operator in the studio and retold him the whole conversation. "How could you have dared, that man is from Gestapo." said the operator. The story was retold to Ivo Andrić, and he ordered her and her husband to urgently leave Germany. The taping of the film was mostly done. That night they packed all of their belongs. In the morning she taped a few leftover scenes and absconded for Belgrade that same day.

"Only on the road I understood what's going on. Tanks everywhere, soldiers."

They went to live in Belgrade. She didn't act as the war was starting to rage and had her first child Milan in 1940 and thee years later a daughter Tijana. Her in-laws disagreed with the marriage to a controversial actress at first. And they had a permanent table for themselves and their friends at the local tavern.

After the bombing of Belgrade they moved to Vrnjačka Banja. Life during wartime was hard and she laboured and sold all of her possessions to keep family fed. She even rescued her husband from jail where he landed after he, in a tavern proclaimed that Hitler will have the same fate Napoleon did in Russia.

They moved back to Belgrade after the end of World War II in 1945. Although she was promised several roles in Yugoslav films, all projects were cancelled and she was treated unfavorably. After receipt of a letter she had written to President Tito, Rina began working as a co–production advisor in Avala Film. But she soon left Avala Film and moved to Lovćen Film.

She returned to the silver screen once, in the 1960 film War, about nuclear war fallout, directed by Veljko Bulajić. This was her last role. She got her role not though a studio, but through her husband asking nicely.

“Before the shooting of the film War began, I was approached by a very likable gentleman, that was the husband of Mrs. Ita Rine Miodrag, and in a very discreet, shy way, asked if we can talk and during that conversation, suggested to cast Ita. Honestly speaking, I have already completely forgotten about her. There was war, and they she didn't work for a very long time. She wasn't listed anywhere in cinematography as an active actress. I remembered her from her films. I suggested we meet. So we met, I don't know where in Zagreb or Belgrade, I cannot remember, but she impressed me. She made a strong impression, of a smart woman, an actress who didn't want to be in a film for no other reason, but to be filmed. She wanted to know about her role. I really liked that, so we made a deal.” 

As she suffered from asthma, Rina and her husband moved to Budva (then Yugoslavia, now Montenegro) in 1967. There, she took care of her husband, who was ill with sclerosis. Rina died on 10 May 1979 from an asthmatic attack during the great earthquake that leveled the capital of Montenegro. She was buried a few days later in Belgrade, in the presence of numerous film artists, admirers, friends and family. Her husband died next year.

Best source is in Slovene here:

#ita rina #slovenia #german cinema #european cinema #20s #fritz lang #german expressionism #1920s #1930 #Yugoslavia #natache

[natromanxoff]

12 - Nicknames...

Hello Playmates. Firstly a slap on the wrist for me. In the last thingy that I wrote I said that we were at Madison Square Gardens when John Bonham died. Well, according to someone in the good ol' U.S. of A. we were in Boston that night, so I was a day out. Also this very kind person, who "didn't want to burst my bubble," informed me that David Lee Roth said the same thing every night. I'm sure he did, I just said that I liked his onstage patter. There has to be some sort of joke about bursting bubbles and pricks, anybody know any?

Did we all get our Spring magazines? Credit to young Jacky and Val, they still do a great mag. In it were the answers to the last competition, and I have to be honest, I didn't have a clue about most of the questions. But here is a little bit of trivia. Q.8 (who, according to Roger, first suggested Another One Bites The Dust be released as a single) The actual very first people to suggest AOBTD be released as a single was The Royal Road Crew. We were lurking around at Musicland Studios while the fab ones were mixing, and I think it was Jobby who said it would be a huge hit. When we told the band they just glared at us and told us to mix some more cocktails. I suppose Mr Jackson saying it sounds more impressive than "Our pissed road crew said ..."

Q.10 (where did the "young man" who was stung on the knee by a wasp come from?) I had completely forgotten about "Two Sharp Pencils." The verses in that song, The young man from Dundee and The lady from Bude, were two stupid rhymes that I used to recite, and RT liked them and made a song out of it. I really hate to take to much credit (lying bastard) but 'Two Sharp Pencils' is also one of mine. It's very hard to explain, but the pencils are placed in a good looking girls ears, and whilst holding the pencils you can pull her head to .......... Enough said. Don't go all sexist on me, it was only a joke.

Q.20 (it was a question about who's nickname was who's) Nicknames. I did not know that Deaky's nickname of Birdman was common knowledge. Here's a little competition from your's truly. Does anyone out there know how he got it and when he got it, and anything else that goes with the story?????? Still on the subject of nicknames, some of you smarter people might have guessed that most of us had them, and that Crystal isn't my real name. It's actually Susan. When I started to travel with the band the first person to inherit my drum keys was a young guy, compared to the rest of us, who had worked with bands like the Thompson Twins. He wore stupid clothes like bondage pants, so Trip gave him the name - Mr. Modern, and it stuck. Whilst on tour in Japan, Mr M met a charming lady who we named Madam Butterfly, and this charming lady gave him his very first dose of the clap. By the end of the day Modern was getting very pissed off with us all, because every time he saw anyone, we would all clap him. I wrote on the gong flight case "Mr Modern has the Crap," and the last time I saw the case it was still on it. The last drum monkey we had, on his first day of rehearsals plugged a 110v keyboard into the 240v power supply and blew it up. British people here might remember a TV program called Auf Wiedesein(!), Pet. Ratty remembered the name of the arsonist in it, and so we had - Moxie. In-between these two wonderful people we did have someone else. We had a European tour coming up and Modern had moved on, so I interviewed a few people at Pembridge Road. I told one guy he had the job and asked him if he had anymore questions, and his first was "Who does Freddies gear?" He only knew me as Crystal, so I replied that Ratty did it. "Who looks after Brian?" Jobby. "Sound?" Trip. "Lights?" Idiot Boy. By this time he's looking a bit bewildered, and I said, "Obviously these are all nicknames and here's a little tip, you're gonna get one, and if you don't like it don't say anything otherwise it'll stick." Sound advice. A few weeks later we all turn up in good old Munich to start rehearsals. I'm in Rogers suite and said, "I suppose you should meet your new roadie at sometime." So I get on the phone and call his room, and when he answers the phone I said, "Hello Shag Nasty," and the dickhead said "I DON'T LIKE THAT." Welcome Shag.

We had to start how we meant to carry on, so we all headed to the Sugar Shack that evening. This could have been Spike's first day as well. Us old timers know how to pace ourselves, but dear old Shag has to drink himself into oblivion in the first hour, and proceed to pass out. A red rag to a bull. We pile him up with glasses, bottles, ashtrays and anything else we can find, and after a few hours Brian decides to head off, and being a nice guy said he would get Shag back to the hotel. We get him down to the limo and throw him in the back while Brian gets in the front, and on the way to the hotel he decides to decorate the limo with, amongst other things, diced carrots. So far this is not good job security. During sound checks Roger would spend forever tuning his kit, and during the show, with the heat of the lights and his pounding, would continue tuning during the show. On one occasion, sound check over and kit perfect, we head off until showtime. During the first number of the set RT is looking a bit put out, and after the first song starts frantically re-tuning the drums. This continues for quite a few songs until he starts to look relaxed. After the show Shag is summoned to the dressing room, and RT said, "Er Shag, after the soundcheck did you re-tune my kit? And the reply was, "Oh no Rog, I wouldn't do that, I just tightened up the loose ones." Back in Berlin and it's five minutes before show time, and Gerry comes up to me and says, "Look's like you've got your old job back for tonight." Why? I look round and Shag is being carted off on a stretcher, with an oxygen mask, drip and everything. What else can this clown get up to? For the last two million years Queen have finished the show with Rock You, then Champions, when the lights would come down, FM running around like a madman, RT standing up and hitting all his cymbals and playing just the bass drum with his right foot, BM playing the never ending power chord whilst keeping an eye on the drummer and JD wondering where we're going clubbing. As the lighting rig came to a standstill, Rog would sit down, and cue the rest of the band for the finish with two smacks on the snare drum and then an almighty crash of the cymbals, and it's over for another night. Play the tape. Shag had done this a couple of dozen times already, so you would think he knew. Wrong. On one night, Rogers doing his standing up bit and our beloved Shag thinks, "The stool is in the way." so he removes the offending stool. When Roger goes to sit down, there's nothing to sit on and he goes arse over tit off the back of the riser, and he's lying there winded. I tell Shag Nasty to hide for a while and try and get the drummer to his feet, and needless to say he's very pissed off. The lights have stopped and Brian has played the longest chord in the history of the universe. Roger finally gets back behind the kit, does the two hits and cymbal crash to finally finish the show, and then completely trashes his kit. I'm glad I didn't have to rebuild it. Needless to say, Shag did not last to long. Until next time.

Crystal

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #brian may #john deacon #crystal taylor #crystal's tales

[trekkie-in-space]

Request : Berlin flirt with OC/Reader and Marsella/Marseille is jealous - La Casa de Papel / Money Heist

Title : To envy the sun

Author :JackB

Resume : Berlin flirt with OC/Reader and Marsella is displeased/hates it.

Requested by : @ahsxual

Warning : Some violence against women (mild), slur

Word : 4929

____

For how perceptive and clever Andrès is, he can be terribly oblivious to some things which can make it very frustrating. It’s not intentional on his part, Marsella knows, it’s just how Andrès is. He is one to take a lot of places in a room, to take the center like a sun, and he does that with such a natural that few people can compete with him. His confidence radiates around and sometimes it feels like you can exist only because he has more than proper manners or because he wants something from you. Most of the time at least. He never knew Andrès to be beyond or shy to go dirty if he feels it’s required in one way or another. But it’s not the case here.

“How are things going with Tatiana ?” He asks as Andrès serve him coffee.

The morning is warm with a gentle sunbeam that promise to become something to endure later that day. If their meeting around breakfast today is supposed to be to talk about some details for their current ‘business’ partnership, Marsella know Andrès likes to initiate the matter himself. So, in the meantime, it’s just friendly conversation or debate.

“Fabulous !” He answers with a warm smile. “She is amazing, things are going above and beyond. Why ?” His question is asked with this peculiar tone Marsella know to be careful around.

“Just thought, you’ve been flirting quite obviously with Athena last night, I believe Tatiana is not one to appreciate such gesture.” Andrès breaks into a laugh.

“I was hardly flirting.”

“Would you ask anybody at that party, they would say you were flirting.”

“Okay, maybe I was flirting.” He admits he bit too proud of himself. Marsella is thankful to takes a sip of his coffee at this moment, hiding any expression he could be making hearing that. “But it’s all in good friendliness. Tatiana knows I’m all for her, she has nothing to be afraid of. Plus, there is nothing more ugly and weak than a man who cheats. Unsatisfied bastard who don’t deserve what they are given. And women love when we give their friends’ attention. Athena was extraordinary last night, my compliments were genuine and I thought she could relax a bit too.”

Marsella nod.

“Why ? Does it bother you ?” Andrès has this peculiar smile on his face which let Marsella know just how much he is screwed.

_____

“May I present you Athena Clementelli, La Prima of the Ballet de La Scala, in Milan.” Tatiana says, the woman at her side smile shyly and bow to him. He return the gesture with a nod. She seems intimidated, and he guesses he is pretty tall and broad compared to her small size, without necessarily looking overly worrying, he knows he is not very inviting at first glance.

The presentations are cut short as Tatiana takes the arm of her friend and they walk away, immediately launching in what seems an interesting conversation. Andrès give him a tap on the shoulder and gently push to invite him to walk behind the two women with him. Even if the private jet will wait for them, passing too much time in a busy and loud airport is never pleasurable.

“She is amazing on a scene, a brilliant dancer and a very good friend of my love.”

“And since you said we were going to Milan, I suppose Tatiana gives a representation there.”

“Exactly, it’s a partnership. Tatiana will play, and Athena will dance. And us, we will steal. But first, Venice, we have ten days before the representation, we want to make the most of it.”

That’s one of the advantages to work with Andrès, beautiful city, fancy places and good times are always of the party at some point or another.

This private plane is quite nicely sized. There’s a lot of room and the two women quickly take up the front side, close to the cabin and continue their chatting.

“It’s been a long time, they have a lot to tell each other.” Andrès says as he sits closer to the back, leaving the girls some privacy.

He sat near him, the crew that will take care of them during the trip prevent them from talking about the heist they are planning, so after a bit of small talk Andrés decide to take a nap.

Marsella find himself dragged to the jovial conversation ahead the plane, the current article he found to occupy his time is too uninteresting to keep his attention. And at this point ear dropping anything and everything has become a habit, an instinct he doesn’t even intentionally think about.

The conversation contains nothing capital in itself. Athena just explain to an overly please Tatiana how she ousted her competitors for the place of Prima and secured her position. She might not look like it, but if what he hears is true, she is ferocious when she wants something or when someone pissed her off. Her tale is brutal and for a second he wonder how he expected less of a friend of Tatiana and Andrès.

Times passes and Tatiana joins them in the back. Or rather join Andrès. He knows it’s time to head out and leave the couple be extravagant together as only them know how and dare to be. So he joins Athena in the front, he smiles at her as he sits on the other side of the corridor to her, and she answer with a small smile, quickly returning to her occupation.

He notices her without observing, if he is to work with her, potentially, he is not sure of all the details yet, he needs to know more about her.

For what he can see, she keeps to herself, she is kind and polite with the staff and tends to be more reserved with the man than with the woman that she easily chats up with.

When he gets up to relax his legs and take a few steps he accidentally let the magazine he had hardly been reading fall, as he bends to pick it up he is outpaced by Athena, picking it up for him.

“Oh, let me.” She says in Italian. She hands him the magazine quickly.

“Thank you.” He answers back in her tongue.

She is pleasantly surprised.

“You speak Italian ?”

“I do.”

“Is it just a few words every tourist knows or.. ”

“Or am I able to hold a specific conversation ? Feel free to try me.” He continues while stretching a bit. “But apologize my regionalism, it is a bit poor.”

She smiles and invites him to sit in front of her.

“Where did you learn Italian ?”

“I’ve studied over in Naples, I was terrible, but I couldn’t afford to be in the army.”

“You’re a soldier ?”

“Was.”

“Did you ever kill someone ?” He gives a nervous laugh.

“Going straight for the delicate question I see.”

“Just curious I suppose.”

“Be careful, next she will ask you miliary secret.” Tatiana says as she passes beside them to go talk to the pilot.

Athena blush slightly, her eyes lower. Tatiana is not long to come back, and in the back Andrès call for her loudly with loving and erotic suggestions that she answer positively to, which only make Athena blush further.

“Don’t worry, there is noise canceling headphone if they can’t wait to arrive at the hotel.”

“We don’t have that luxury in our training studio, but maybe I should require it.”

“As a prima I’m sure you could.”

“Definitely.”

“How did you meet Tatiana ?”

“In a gala representation in Moscow, it was one of the most terrible and chaotic nights I ever had, ask Tatiana she tells the tale better than me. And let’s says it didn’t go well at all with her at first, but that night or rather morning, we found ourselves outside, drinking vodka to keep us warm and we made friends over the chaos of that night.”

“Found you had more in common ?”

“Absolutely. I wasn’t a Prima at that time, took me a lot of work to achieve it, that world is harsh and unforgiving. I found the same determination in Tatiana.”

They can hear the couple get more excited in the back.

“I think I’m going to take those noise canceling headphone and takes a nap.”

Marsella open the drawer on the side for her. She thanks him in a tone that seems too grateful for such a small and inconsequential gesture. He regains the other side of the plane, giving her space and privacy.

____

Upon arriving in the Marco Polo airport they are approached by a small group, Athena walk slightly faster to meet with the older woman that seems to be the one in charge. It just strikes him upon seeing them smiling, that they must be dancers too. Their stance and physics similar to how he saw Athena be.

Tatiana and Andrès present themselves easily and himself feel a bit clumsy around, though it goes unnoticed.

“Thank you so much Madame Bartolotti for letting me train.. ”

“Nonsense, you know you’re always welcome here. Though I do have a favor to ask of you.” She asks as she takes Athena arm in hers and start walking, leaning the way for their little group.

“Of course, anything.”

“The city receives conservators from all around the country for a conference on the Italian renaissance, I would like you to give a representation for them at the opening party.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

“Of course your friends are invited.”

“It’s more than appreciated Madame Bartolotti, if I may, my cherished wife is an extraordinary pianist.” Andrès says, holding his hand in the air for Tatiana to take, he brings her so naturally on the scene, letting her use her charm.

“It would be my pleasure to offer you my service for this party.” She says. “As a way to thank you for your hospitality.”

“Tatiana and I have been working several times together, she is talented.” Athena adds. “More so than Regazzi.”

“I see no reason not to accept, I will speak with the orchestra of your participation. I’m very curious to discover your performance, not many people can compete with Regazzi, but I know Athena never hand out such compliment on a whim.”

“Oh I know she is never one to brush an ego just to be kind.” Tatiana confirms.

“Exactly. It will take place in the Palazzo Ducale in four days, I hope it’s enough time for you to rest and prepare.”

“Of course. More than enough.” Athena affirms.

“Good, may I present you to Nicolo, Manfredi and Cirillo, you will work with them, they are at your disposition and you will be the one to choose who come with you for the duet at the party.”

She nods at the three men, slightly in retreat, careful as they all present themselves to her once more.

“It would be to pleasure to work with you. The trip has been long it will have to wait tomorrow morning for repetition, but I would like to see how you dance today. If you don’t mind.”

That being set, they all embark in a boat to join the main city. Athena and Tatiana head for the theater La Fenice with Bartolotti and the dancers, while him and Andrès head for their hotel. They have a lot of things to discuss for the Heist in Milan and details to sort out. He is not even surprised to see how luxurious the Monaco & Grand Canal hotel is, nor to be paid a room for the time of his stay. Andrès love luxe and always treat his trusted collaborators well.

____

Athena is quick to leave in the morning, the sun is only peaking in the horizon and the air is fresh from the breeze. She does not notice him as she passes beside the terrace, her brilliant brown hair flow with her movement and she tie them in a near perfect chignon without thinking. The way from the hotel to the theater is not long but her pace is dynamic. Though, she is stopped when a woman comes toward her with an even quicker pace and a palpable determination.

He focus back on his coffee and the news in the journal. But his ears are sharp as he listens to what he can.

“ … mistake, you can perform to that party only because I don’t have time for it. You are no more than a convenience for Madame Bartolotti.”

“Not my fault if you can’t assume multiple project at the same time Olivia.”

“Keep low, I lend you my theater by respect but don’t come strutting on my field.”

“Madame Bartolotti is the one to lend me La Fenice.. ”

Marsella can feel the tension between the two women, it wouldn’t take much for it to escalate.

“..But thank you for lending me your dancers, they are talented.” Athena softens, calming the electric heat between Olivia and her.

“That conference is important, the representation need to be perfect, I wouldn’t risk it with a low tier dancer, now it’s up to you not to screw it up.”

“I never do and you know that. Personally even. I will make sure to address how generous you were though.” Olivia nod.

“If we’re clear.”

“We are.”

The woman leaves promptly, not without a dry glare that Athena return with more restrain. Once out of sight she relaxes and breath out before storming back toward the hotel. It’s at this moment she notices him. He salutes her and invite her to his table.

She takes on the offers and sit carefully in front of him, nervous.

“You seems pissed off.” He comments.

“One coffee please, and add a bit of whiskey in it please.” She asks a passing waiter who nods to her request. “Yah.” She answers him, untying her hair who fall back on her shoulder.

“Whiskey right in the morning ?”

“Just to take the edge off. She’s.. ” She starts but stops herself to calm a bit. “She’s the Prima of La Fenice, and in my world a Prima hates other Prima. We are in constant concurrence. And it’s without counting ex-Prima who are bitter to be on the bench and those who wish to take our place.”

“Coexistence is hard I see.”

“It is. She is even more bitter because I was supposed to be the Prima of La Fenice, she was the backup option in case I didn’t take the position.”

The waiter arrives with her coffee and she takes a sip or two of it.

“I’m not here to take her place, she doesn’t need to freak out and put pressure on me.”

“If she does it’s because you still represent a threat to her. You’re the one putting pressure on her just by being here.”

“True.” She smiles and gets up. “I’m sorry, I have to leave if I don’t want to be late. Thank you for the talk, I needed to calm down.”

“My pleasure. Any good place I wouldn’t dare to miss while I’m here ?” He asks.

“Try the Castello District and try to find the garden. It’s beautiful.” She says after a bit of reflexion.

“I will. Thank you.”

She quickly leaves. He knows he has a few hours to kill before he meets Andrès again, plenty of time to visit some places, the last time he came in Venice was for a contract and he didn’t have the leisure to enjoy the city. So be the Castello District then.

____

That evening, as he is about to leave the hotel Marsella see Athena in the lounge, a nearly empty drink in hand and a bored expression on her face. He goes to salute her and she smile at him.

He quickly learn the reason for her poor mood. Tatiana and her were supposed to go out tonight, but she canceled their plan in favor of her husband, which in itself is understandable.

“I’m going out to eat, care to join me ?” He offers. He is used to being alone but wouldn’t say no to the bright company of Athena.

She hesitates an instant but accept.

“The garden was indeed beautiful.” He says.

“I’m glad you found it, it’s a sight to see. Especially since green space are rare and private most of the time in Venice.”

On their way for a restaurant they cross paths with a dog, Athena is quick to go to pet it, forgetting what is around her and Marsella himself. Only remembering his company when he lower down to pet the animal too.

“Dogs are the best.” He comments, memories coming back to him.

“Do you have one ?”

“Had.” She nods, he can see in her eyes that she is curious but restrain from asking. “Do you ?” He asks back.

“I wish I had, but I’m traveling too much, I would never see it and my heart would break.”

“You always have time later.”

“When someone takes my place, sure. I may have more time then, but I don’t want to think of it. The sooner you think it will end the sooner it end.” She refocus on the dog who is more than happy to be getting attention. “I don’t know much about you, so tell me a bit about your dog.” She finally asks. He laughs,

“Alright, she was called.. ”

The evening goes well, their dinner is passed to talk about their past animals for the most part and in those tales are woven some details about their life.

Back at the hotel, they are about to split back in their respecting room when she proposes :

“If you like, come to see me rehearse tomorrow. La Fenice is a sight to see from inside and I like to have a public.”

“I will come.”

“Good. Only if you want, of course, and you don’t have to stay for long if you do come.” She adds quickly.

“It’s fine.” He reassures. “I’m curious.”

“Good then. Just says your name when you arrive, I will warn them to let you enter.”

“Noted. Good night.”

“Good night.”

____

As he enters the theater, he is humbled by the beauty of the place. He is not really used to that kind of environment, it’s not his primary point of gravitation, though he learned how to blend in most places.

He is guided in a few corridors then shown directions to the backstage by an obviously bored receptionist. He apparently arrived at the moment where they took a break as nobody had been on the scene when he was guided there at first.

It’s not a problem for him, he makes his ways in a few steps and follow the sound of voices.

It’s unclear at first, but he quickly recognizes the tone of a conflict. If he speed up, he does so as quietly he can. Listening carefully.

He easily recognize Athena voice and what must be one of the dancers that were at the airport.

“.. Picked Manfredi, my decision is final, stop arguing.”

“I’m a better dancer.”

“You can keep repeating that it’s not going to make me change.”

“You’re just an entitled bitch, Manfredi will drop you tomorrow.. ”

“You’re the one who nearly dropped me yesterday.” She snaps back.

“I need that position, what don’t you get about that ?”

“I don’t car.. ”

“I need the money, I need the publicity for my career, some recognition, it’s simple. What you don’t get about that ?”

Something is thrown on the wall and break loudly on the floor. Marsella is getting closer, but still out of sight, and can pick up Athena fearful gasp.

“Leave. I didn’t pick you. Give it up.” She tries again with force yet her tone is full of anguish.

“I’m a good dancer, I was Olivia’s main.. ”

“Yeah ? Well, I get why she dropped you.”

“You.. ”

Athena back up to find herself cornered on a table as he raises his hand against her. He finds himself firmly stopped right in the air. She raise her eyes toward Marsella and let out a relieved breath. The man tries to free himself, but he is firmly held and any attempts drop flat.

“I believe she told you to leave !” He says firmly.

“Who the fuck are you ?” He tries to free himself again, in vain. Marsella place himself between him and Athena. Making him back up.

“You can think of me I some sort of guard dog if you want.” The other man snort.

“Who the fuck he is ?” He asks Athena directly.

Marsella snap his fingers near his ears, his grip tighten on his arm.

“It’s with me you’re dealing now boy. Better calm down, it would be unfortunate for you to get injured, don’t you think ?”

“What ? You’re a psycho.”

“You can’t dance with a damaged knee I believe, or I’m thinking, maybe an ankle.”

“What do you want ?”

“For you to leave just like Athena asked.”

“Fine.” He tries to free himself but Marsella still don’t let go. “I’m leaving.”

“And if something were to happen to Athena or hm.. Manfr.. ” He turns toward Athena.

“Manfredi.” She answers.

“Manfredi.” He repeats. “I will hold you personally responsible, and well, let’s says you don’t want that. Are we clear ?”

“Clear.” The man has a smaller voice now as he takes in the threat.

Marsella let go of him and the man leave promptly, cursing lowly.

“You’re alright ?” He asks Athena.

“Ye.. ”

“Where is this bastard ?” Andrès exclaimed as he enters the backstage, Tatiana following him closely. Marsella point out a direction he immediately follows.

“You’re okay ?” Tatiana asks her.

“Yes, it’s fine, it just got a bit heated.”

“More than heated, he was getting violent.” Marsella correct.

“Did he touch you ?” Tatiana asks.

“Was about. Thank you for your help. I’m glad you came.” She directs at Marsella.

“He’s always there when you need him, that is true.” Andrès says as he comes back.

They all, but Athena, exchange a knowing glare, that man will get some repercussion.

“Do you want to go out, relax ?”

“No, I’m waiting for Manfredi.”

“We can leave a note and he can join us when he arrives.” Athena thinks an instant.

“Okay, yeah, taking some air will do me good.”

On their way out Athena turn to Marsella. He is already way bigger and taller than her but at this moment, she seems so small as she looks up.

“You wouldn’t have hurt him do you ?”

“Only if necessary.” He answers and his tone comes out a bit too coldly.

In a second he had passed from a helpful friend to a scary stranger. Feeling her sudden unease Tatiana grabs her arm and they take the front.

“Don’t worry.. ” He hears her says.

“It’s good you were here to help her.” Andrès tell him.

“You want to do something about the boy ?”

“Nicolo Virona, and yes, I believe he deserves a bit more than a threat.”

They end up taking a small walk on the street, before having a coffee on a terrace. The mood lightens up and earlier worries are forgotten. Manfredi do join them and conversation come to turn around dance and the many interesting stories that come with working within a ballet of worldwide fame.

“We should go back and rehearse.” Manfredi says after a bit of time. “You can both come to watch us if you want.” He directs at him and Andrès.

“I would like that.” Athena says, any worries she had, had disappeared from her sharp brown eyes which reassure him in accepting the proposition.

____

The party is grandiose. The Doge’s Palace is extraordinary, beautiful painting recovers the walls and ceiling, ornated with golden moldings and wood, it’s a masterpiece like you rarely see one. A superb white piano awaits for Tatiana to start playing. Place has been made in the center of the room for the arrivals of the dancers and a grounding choir of whisper can be heard, all eager and curious to see what will follow. It calm down as light focus on the scene, plunging everyone in a gentle darkness.

“Look at her.” Andrès tell him, watching Tatiana as she starts playing. Full of admiration and love.

Everybody goes quiet as notes rise in the room.

Manfredi come, his steps are fluid and elegant and give an impression of languor and sadness. Slow and yearning. They’ve seen him do those steps in training but it hit different tonight. The note of the piano follow the mood, and when it accelerates they know Athena will make her entry soon.

She doesn’t come from where Manfredi emerged but from the crowd around where she squeezes her way with smooth movements.

She jumps and her partner catch her easily, like it’s nothing. He holds her high and turn and when she goes down he embraces her as if they were lovers finding each other again. Lowering her down nearly to the floor. In a quiet and peaceful move. There’s a reverence to it.

Then she finds herself on her feet and they separate for a few moves to find each other again. Every movement is fluid, elegant, and with a natural and a sensuality that is mesmerizing.

It’s beautiful.

The room goes dark when they finish and all light lighten up back for the final salute, applause raise high in the room and many are coming to congrats them on their performance and exchange a few words. He stays in retreat until he can himself go and present his admiration.

“Athena, you were.. ”

“MAGNIFICENT.” Andrès cuts him and pass in front of him catching all of Athena attention. She can barely glance at him before Andrès catch her attention by a flow of beautifully worded compliments. His would be pale in comparison. Not that his feeling and intention would be less, but the form would be poor compared to Andrès.

Sublime, grandiose, opulent, splendid, elegant, sumptuous, majestic.. Andrès spare no compliment. He makes her laugh and manages to eclipse everything around them.

“Do you want a drink ?”

“A flute of champagne would be perfect.” Andrès turn toward him and he knows the task to go pick one fall on him.

“You were resplendent, I’m humbled by such beauty.” He tells her as he hand her the flute when he comes back.

“Thank you.”

“I agree, nobody could look away from you.” Andrès takes her hand and kiss the top of it which make Athena giggle.

In a second, Marsella is forgotten again. He looks at Andrès in disbelief, annoyed by his lack of tact.

“I hope you will grant me the pleasure of a dance tonight.” Andrès asks.

“It would be my pleasure. But I need to change first.”

“Of course.”

Marsella doesn’t manage to offers more than a few words to Athena, her attention caught by the effervescence of the party. After a time he doesn’t really try anymore. It’s not his place, not his world. He doesn’t have Andrès talent and charm and he can’t help but feel a bit bitter about it. Andrès know how to stand out while he is an expert in blending in the crowd to never be seen. A bit too much to his tastes. It doesn’t really matter, Athena seems like she enjoys herself, his presence or not wouldn’t change anything.

____

“Why ? Does it bother you ?” Andrès has this peculiar smile on his face which let Marsella know just how much he is screwed.

“No.” Andrès laugh gently.

“Yes, it does.” He seems very pleased with himself. “It does. You like her.”

He doesn’t answer, this is escalating to a way he doesn’t like.

“Difficult not to, she is brilliant, intelligent, beautiful. Everybody had her eyes on her last night.” Marsella raise his cup to this. “But you could have stood out. Invite her, catch her attention for yourself.”

Difficult when you’re already on the scene. He thinks.

Andrès catch the hint in his eyes. “Oh, because of me ?” He laughs, and Marsella hates it, he feels like being mocked.

“I’m hardly going to compete with you, it’s your field.” He answers calmly.

“I’m taking your envy as a compliment, but you need to be more outstanding, a bit more.. ” He searches his words, a hand on his shoulder. “A bit more.. A bit less proper and a bit more confident.”

Andrès touch bother him and he moves slightly, thankfully his working partner take the hint and removes his hand.

“You’re giving me advice now ?” He can’t help but feel bitter and slightly humiliated.

“Look at me, I get everything I want, I take everything I want. I can help you.” Marsella snort. Andrès come to sit at his side. “No, it’s true. Athena appreciates you. You, the one who came to her rescue. Make a grand gesture, she will appreciate it.”

“She’s not like Tatiana.”

“Exactly, I’m a bit too much for her, she needs someone a bit more subtle. Here what I think.. ”

The preparation for the heist in Milan is forgotten as Andrès expose his idea.. Marsella previous bitterness fade in favor of amusement. Alright, maybe he can learn a thing or two.

End.

#LA CASA DE PAPEL #LCDP #MONEY HEIST #MARSELLA #MARSEILLE #BERLIN #ANDRES DE FONOLLOSA #OC #my writing #pre-canon

[thran-duils]

Doll Me Up (P.9)

Title: Doll Me Up (Part Nine) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark. On good days, you and Tony were a power couple. You, a perfect trophy wife with your hands in local charities to promote a wholesome image. Tony, business man but sullied with organized crime. He indulged in his illegal gambling, extortion, and political corruption. And he indulged in his escort business. Hell, that is where he had found you. You were a brat, and he loved a challenge. Words: 2,991 Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, smut, daddy kink, dom/sub, manipulation, death, violence, possessive behavior, drug use

Author’s Note: I apologize if the tags haven’t been working. I was using the new beta editor but I’ve switched back to traditional! BTW, I think I am coming up to the close on the fic soon! Just a head’s up.

Part Eight || Part Ten || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

~A month ago…

You heard someone walk into the living room and you peeked out from your cocoon of blankets you had set up for yourself, curled up on the couch, watching tv. Happy cocked an eyebrow seeing you, his eyes running over the seltzer water and all the blankets.

“Are you okay?” he questioned.

“I don’t feel great,” you said, taking another sip of your water. You wished Tony was home, but he had gone on a business trip. Happy had stayed behind to keep an eye on you. Tony trusted him more than any of his other men to make sure you were kept safe in his absence.

“Do you need to go to the doctor?” Happy asked concerned.

You shrugged, “I’m just nauseous. I don’t think it’s anything serious. I might have eaten something bad.”

Happy did not look convinced. “Tell me if it gets worse. And I’ll get you an appointment.”

Nodding, you picked your water back up and took another drink, hoping the carbonation would help settle your stomach. You did not even bother to tell Tony later around dinner time when he called to check in, brushing it off.

It subsided later in the day and you thought you were in the clear until the next morning – very early, 4:00am – it hit again. Groaning, you could not ignore the swirling and you got out of bed, rubbing at your eyes.

FRIDAY set on the baseboard lights as you walked downstairs to guide your way.

You opened the bag of bread and took a slice out, stuffing it into your mouth as you closed the bag back up. Taking a large bite, you chewed slowly. Maybe you were having acid reflux and the bread would help soak it up.

You meandered, swallowing the first bite, as you approached the door to the patio. You laid your hand on it and it unlocked for you. Stepping outside, you inhaled the fresh air deeply. That made you feel slightly better.

<><><>

In Berlin, Tony’s watch beeped. He looked away from the table where he was having a late lunch with a fellow boss and their crew that was helping him secure capital in the city. FRIDAY was alerting him that Y/N had activated the system to go outside. His face screwed up in confusion, calculating quickly what time it was back home in Malibu. It would be a little after 4:25am.

“Excuse me, would you?” Tony asked and the other boss nodded, taking a drink of their beer. Tony slipped his tablet out of his bag as he left the table.

Walking away from the table, he moved towards the balcony overlooking the city. Holding the tablet up, he accessed the cameras at home, pulling up the outside cameras since she had left to the patio. He was on edge, wondering what the hell she was doing outside so early.

She was just sitting in one of the chairs, eating a piece of bread, which only served to confuse him more. But at least she was there; she had not run off.

He watched her for a few moments before movement by the door caught his eye and he saw Happy step outside.

“Good man,” Tony said under his breath, knowing FRIDAY would have alerted Happy too in the guest room he was in per Tony’s programming. He would have been severely disappointed if Happy had not come outside to check on her.

The two of them were speaking and Tony did not miss the concerned look on Happy’s face.

Suddenly, Y/N jerked forward, vomiting all over the cement, barely missing Happy’s slippers much to Tony’s shock. Was she hung over? That would explain the bread.

Happy came closer and his hand came to her back, steadying her as she leaned over the side of the chair. He was speaking quickly to her and she shook her head, and he shook his right back at her. Tony watched Happy settle her back and hold up a hand to her, before he went back towards the door, leaving her out there.

When he came back out, he had some napkins and some water. She shook her head at the water and he forced it towards her.

“Looks like someone had a little too much fun last night,” Tony said to himself before closing the camera. He had no further reason to be concerned about it; it looked like Happy had it perfectly under control.

Which is why when he had just got sat back down at the table, his cell phone started to ring. The other boss laughed at his expense, making a comment about him being a busy man. Tony apologized and checked his watch, seeing it was Happy. He excused himself again quickly and got up.

“What?” Tony asked. “I just got sat down at the table.”

“I’m gonna make an appointment for Y/N. Where do you want her to go?” Happy cut in immediately.

“What? What for?”

“She doesn’t feel good.”

“Yeah, I saw. Got a good view of that vomit. How much did she have to drink last night?”

“Nothing. She didn’t drink anything,” Happy told him, surprising Tony. “She didn’t feel well yesterday either and I told her to tell me if it got worse. Did she tell you when she spoke to you on the phone last night?”

“No. What do you mean she’s not feeling well?”

“Nausea she said. Maybe she has a stomach bug, I don’t know. But food poisoning doesn’t generally last two days.”

Tony rubbed his forehead and sighed. “Um, just take her to my guy. She’s on my insurance plan. She’s been to him before.”

“Not the ER?”

“You think it’s an ER type of situation?”

“I’m not sure. I mean, throwing up usually isn’t an ER thing but I don’t know.”

“Did she throw up yesterday?”

“No, not that I know of.”

“No other symptoms?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” Tony said to himself more than anything. He pondered on it and tapped the railing as he weighed the options. Something came to him then and he straightened up. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he thought more about it.

“Boss?”

Shaking his head, Tony cleared his throat, “You know, no. On second thought, no. No doctor or ER.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’m heading back tonight. You know, if she starts showing other symptoms, take her to the doctor. My guy. But I think she’ll be fine.”

Happy said slowly, “Um, alright…”

“Morning sickness, Hap. Not to get too excited about it yet but… fits the bill.”

“Oh,” Happy said and Tony could hear the realization peaking in his voice. “Right.”

“So, just keep an eye on her. I’ll be on the plane soon and then I’ll just stop on the way home at the pharmacy. Get a test,” Tony said, feeling lighter about the situation. “Order her some 7-Up or something, soups. Just keep her comfortable for me, yeah?”

“You got it,” Happy confirmed.

<><><>

“We have lunch plans, but Tony is taking forever,” you told Steve as the two of you boarded the elevator to go down further into the building.

Anticipation was nipping at your heels; you had not explored this part of the building yet. Steve had come to speak to Tony but when he was told by Angelica that Tony was busy, he was quick to brush off needing to see him. He just needed to go downstairs to pick something up. You had practically thrown down the magazine you were pretending to read, asking if you could come with. He had been polite and courteous, telling you he would love the company. Angelica looked like she wanted to say something, but you purposely ignored her, walking by and following Steve.

“Oh? Where are you going for lunch?” Steve asked interested.

“This place Pepper suggested. Mario’s. Up in the Bronx.”

“Never been.”

“I trust her opinion. She seems to know what she’s talking about.”

“That she does,” Steve smiled back.

“What are you doing here though?” you inquired, switching gears.

“I need another set of batteries for one of my weapons.”

“You couldn’t go to the store?” you asked confused.

Steve chuckled, throwing you an amused look. “No, they’re special batteries.”

“Oh…”

Steve immediately noticed your embarrassment and he quickly said, “Not like you would know that. That’s something I would think too. But the batteries are special. What you said was logical.”

Logical. Not an adjective you heard attributed to you often. Maybe never.

The elevator door opened, and you hesitated seeing the men standing guard outside it but Steve strode out, unperturbed by them. You followed him, catching up to his long strides.

“Why did you want to come down here though besides Tony taking too long?” Steve asked, eyeing you curiously as the pair of you walked.

“One, I was bored as you can imagine, waiting for him to finish whatever he was doing. And two, Tony didn’t let me see anything except his office or the boardroom since I’ve been here. Said it wasn’t important for me to see it. But I want to.”

“Hmm,” Steve said shooting you a look. “You think you should be down here then?”

“I don’t see why not. I can keep secrets well enough if that’s what everyone is worried about.”

Steve’s lips curled into a soft smile at that, his eyes running over you.

You were taking in all the people working, the technology they were using. It was like the garage back home where Tony worked but far, far more busy. It was a little overwhelming.

Steve was nodding at random people who greeted him in awe. He came to a stop in front of someone though standing behind a desk.

She looked up and smiled, recognizing him on sight. “That was quick, Cap.” He eyes turned to you and she faltered, “And…”

“Y/N. Tony’s wife,” Steve introduced you.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize you,” she apologized immediately. You took note that her bade said her name was Eva.

“How could you have? I’ve never been down here before,” you said, giving her a small reassuring smile.

She relaxed at your calm demeanor and turned to grab something off the desk behind her. Handing it to Steve, she told him, “So, there’s backups in there too so you don’t need to make another trip so soon.”

“Nice, that’s thoughtful. Thank you,” Steve commented.

“You’re going to want to update your system though. I’ll send you a link to do so on the secure network,” Eva went on explaining.

“Alright, I’ll figure it out.” Steve looked at you and said sheepishly, “Tech isn’t my strong point. I have gotten better though, so there’s hope.”

“I can’t keep up with Tony sometimes and I’ve been around technology my whole life. I mean, my whole house is a giant computer essentially,” you responded. “Could not even begin to explain to you how it works.”

“It’s complicated but it’s helpful right?” Eva asked lightheartedly. You nodded and she said, “I’ll be the first to admit I wouldn’t be able to keep up with how Mr. Stark talks about tech either. Could not even begin to fathom how his brain works. I swear he’s not speaking English sometimes when he’s giving presentations.”

You snorted, as did Steve. “I can attest to that,” Steve agreed. “I just let him lead when it comes to this type of stuff.”

You could relate to that. You let Tony lead in pretty much every facet.

“Same. It’s just easier to stand behind him,” you said. Steve’s brow creased at your comment and you suddenly felt uncomfortable. Trying to draw attention away from it, you gestured at the box. “May I?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve said, handing it over to you.

You opened the box and touched the odd shaped metal. “Definitely doesn’t look like normal batteries.”

“Nope,” Eva agreed.

Steve was looking at you with purpose when you handed the box back to him. His gaze slid to Eva and he asked, “Do you have some time?”

“For what, Mr. Rogers?”

“A small tour. Mrs. Stark hasn’t been able to see around the building because Tony has been busy, and a little explanation of some things down here might scratch her itch?” Steve looked at you for approval. “I mean, if you want that, of course.”

Excitement flared up and you nodded, “Yeah. I probably have time. Especially if there’s things to look at that won’t put me in a ‘we can show you but then we will have to kill you’ type of spot.”

Eva laughed at that. “There’s some of that available, yes.” She gestured past the desk behind her. “Shall we?”

Steve held out his arm to you and you took it appreciatively.

Eva started at a microchip, explaining it had the startings of being able to upload a personality to a robot to mimic a sentient being.

“So, like Vision?” you asked.

“Yes. Like Vision. But definitely nowhere near as advanced or powerful as he is. This is… it would be like a bodyguard for example?”

“A nanny for the baby when you need a break?” Steve joked quietly into your ear. You looked at him perplexed at the admission he knew and his smile fell. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—Tony told the team. I’m sorry if it was still supposed to be a secret?”

You waved it off quickly. “It’s fine. It’s you guys he told. You’re not nobodies.”

Though you did dislike that Tony was being so free with the information. You were only about two months along. He was getting too excited about it too soon whereas you were worried, your pessimism getting the better of you.

“And I’m sure I’ll need a break,” you joked back to Steve and he relaxed as the two of you followed Eva, her pointing things out that she could share.

You were so engrossed in what she was saying you only saw Tony’s reflection in the glass wall behind her at the last second.

You turned your head quickly and said innocently, “You’re done upstairs, then?”

“Rogers,” Tony said tightly, his eyes shooting to your arms intertwined before snapping back to Steve’s face. He looked very suspicious; you knew that look. Jealousy.

“Tony,” Steve returned, and he gracefully let your arm fall. He held up the box, “Thanks for the battery replacement. And the reminder to come grab it. I definitely would have forgotten without it.”

Tony by stepped his last comments. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Sure,” Steve said, tossing Eva a look. He held up the box to her now and said, “Thanks for being so prompt with this. It was helpful. And thanks for the walk.”

<><><>

When they were out of earshot, Tony told him firmly in hushed tones, “I’m not sure why you thought it was appropriate but don’t bring Y/N down here in the future.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know she wasn’t allowed until we were already down here,” Steve said and he saw Tony frown deeply. “She did say you didn’t wanna show her around the building after we came down here and I did ask if she thought she should be down here at all. Figured to just keep her close until we went back upstairs.”

“No, she shouldn’t be down here. I don’t want her knowing anything. Puts her at risk, knowledge. Kidnappings and whatnot.”

“I think being married to you, Tony, is what puts her at risk for that.”

Tony’s closed lipped smile did not reach his eyes; he was not amused with Steve’s quip.

“Regardless, for the future, don’t let the curiosity kill the cat. She’s better off naïve about it. Even if she’s learning on the arm of America’s golden boy.”

Silence ate away at the two of them for a few moments before Steve shrugged, relenting. He said stoically, “Understood.”

“Good,” Tony clipped. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my wife and I have lunch plans and I fear I’ve kept her waiting for far too long.”

Steve shook his head as soon as Tony brushed past him, leaving him by the elevator.

<><><>

You had thanked Eva before telling her she should probably go back to work now that the boss was in the room. She picked up on your joke but did it all the same. You paced slowly, watching carefully as Tony spoke with Steve. They were both tense and you sighed, knowing he was likely cursing Steve for assisting you down here. He really did not want you to know anything about most of his work whether it be here or out on the streets or in the political arena.

He came back to you and you gave him a smile, that he did not return.

“What were you doing down here?” he asked tightly, his hand coming to the small of your back and directing you back towards the elevator where he had left Steve who had already gone back up.

“Looking around,” you told him. “I was bored.”

“Do you not remember me telling you to not go poking around?”

“Yes, but I was curious.”

“It would make me happy if you would listen to me,” Tony said, nodding at one of his workers as he passed. “Don’t you wanna make me happy, kitten?”

“85 percent of the time,” you quipped, trying to get him to smile. But he still did not and your own slowly melted away as he responded.

“I think that sounds about right.”

There was something off about him, but you could not figure out what. You elected to stay quiet the rest of the stride to the elevator. He pressed the button to the elevator to come back down, his fingers on his other hand drawing lazy circles on the small of your back. Every so often though, his fingers dug in slightly and you did your best to not flinch away.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21, @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @kvzctam @farihafangirls, @teenageregression @mrsnegan25 @lilacs-lavender @agustdowney @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @emmariexx

#tony stark x reader #dark!tony stark #dark tony stark #mob tony stark #darl marvel fic #dark marvel #my shit

[words-for-holland]

Apple Tree Kisses | T.H.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: The boys take Y/N out for apple picking on their day off. Much fun. Much cuteness. And lots and lots of apples.

A/N: So maybe another mini installment of fall adventures with Tom? Well see how it goes. Hoenstly dont even know I feel about this one lol.

“We’re going apple picking this fall right?” Y/N asked the boys as they all sat down, scrolling through their phone in their cozy Berlin suite. Neither letting out an answer, as they all sighed in unison.

“Right?” Y/N asked again. “Tom, right?” She playfully shoved his shoulder hoping to grab her boyfriend’s attention. Y/N could easily see the slight smirk that grew on his face. Of course, Tom was never one to ignore his girlfriend, but he loved to tease her when it came to doing things she really wanted to do. In all the years they’ve been together, he knew Y/N was the most indecisive person in the world but when she knew what she wanted...she knew exactly what she wanted and would go the distance to get it.

“Mmm I dont know Y/N. We might be busy.” He chuckled, his pink sleeves engulfing Y/N in a cozy bear hug.

“Cmonnn. It’ll be fun. We cant miss it this year. It’s tradition.” She reasoned.

“I know Darling. Soon. I promise.” Tom gave her a chaste kiss on her slightly chapped frown, which slowly turned into the smile he always loved to see.

Needless to say, soon came a lot faster than Y/N anticipated. As she wrapped up a few emails from work, Tom, Harry, and Sam stood before her, leaning over the table, giving the Goofy Holland smile. “Whats up with you three?” Y/N giggled.

“We’re going on a trip. So you better get ready.” Sam answered as he walked away.

“Better hurry up before we leave you.” Harry joked around as he made his way out as well.

“I do suggest you wear something cute. I mean, you always look cute. You’re perfect, but Im just saying that red plaid shirt you got in the closet...just does things to me.” He groans, making his way to their room to get ready as well.

Y/N playfully rolls her eyes and scoffs out a chuckle. Of course all the boys finished up before her as they head to the car waiting for Y/N. She appears, wearing Tom’s suggestion with a white top undeneath the plaid shirt and black leggings, opening the door and sitting beside her giddy boyfriend, who was smiling from ear to ear. He sported a denim jacket and pants with a white shirt underneath and navy blue baseball hat, much like his character Arvin from Devil All the Time. Of course Tom very well knew, this look did things to Y/N after the first time she saw the film with him, making comments about how hot he looked as a southern bad boy. “Well you’re looking mighty fine there miss.” Tom flirts, displaying his southern accent for Y/N.

“Why thank you kind sir. You’re not too bad yourself.” She responds back, smirking at his comment. Tom leans in quickly to give her a small peck...only to go back in for another. And another..and another...

“Ugh, can we save the flirting and snogging till after the car ride. Please. Im trying to keep my lunch down for the next hour.” Harry groaned in the front seat.

“Sorry Harry.” The love birds mumble as they sit in their respective seats.

For those wondering, Harry did indeed survive the hour drive while keeping his lunch in tact. The group arrived at the German apple orchard called Alstead farms where they were dropped off at front.

Y/N took in her surroundings. Seeing the fall foliage, with autumn colored leaves sprinking the walkways, the sounds of the busy stands of food and fresh produce, the smell of freshly fried apple cider donuts it reminded her exactly why fall was her favorite season.

“Cmon darling, you’re supposed to be day dreaming about me not those apple cider donuts.” Tom teases as he grabs her hand in his.

“Trust me mate, I wouldnt blame Y/N if she was. Those donuts were absolutely amazing..” Sam muffled as he shoved another donut in his mouth.

“Oi, you already got yours?! And didnt even bother to share?” Harry questioned as he tried to grab the crumbled bag of sugary goodness.

Sam rolled his eyes at he reluctantly lent his last donut to his brother. The four grabbed their wagon, maps, and bags, ready to gather as much apples as they could. They went row by row, picking up macintosh, fuji, honey crisps, and empires. They tasted each one closing their eyes in delight, and scrunching their faces with ones that werent so sweet.

Harry took pictures of the surrounding and as he turned around he was given the perfect angle to capture a sweet moment between Tom and Y/N.

The two had their hands interlaced as they admired one tree with golden hues on the apple. Tom leaned in towards Y/N’s ear as he told her a funny apple pun, kissing the top of her head. When Y/N turned around to hear the clicks of the camera, she proceeded to cross her eyes and stick her tongue out.

“Thats attractive.” Harry comments with a hint of sarcasm as he looks through his camera. They all knew how camera shy Y/N got when she was aware of her picture being taken. In her words, posing for the camera while acting natural, made her feel like an awkward deer that’s about to get run over over....Dont ask, its a long story. “Okay, wait the lighting and this tree is perfect though. I want you and Tom up on that tree.” He commanded as he pointed at the sturdy tree with curly branches.

“Uhh...you sure about this?” Y/N asked, in an apprehensive tone. “What if I fall?”

“Oh c’mon darling you know I wont let you.” Tom said as he grabbed her hand to reassure you. “I’m not gonna let you fall. Ill hold on to you the entire time.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Sam, hold the apples for them and I’m begging you to please not eat my share.” Harry groaned at the thought.

Tom and Y/N had situated themselves on the tree not as high up from the ground as they had anticipated. At first they took a photostanding up. Tom towering over her as he stepped onto the higher branch, one arm hanging on the branch above him and another holding onto Y/N’s hand. They smiled and looked into each others eyes completely forgetting that they were on a tree and Harry was taking their pictures. Y/N took his navy hat and placed it on her own as they laughed. Tom licked his lips at the sight and couldnt help but to lean in, “You look so hot right now.”

“Oh god, stop you know thats not true.” Y/N giggles as her cheeks are tinted with a light pink blush. Tom continued to look at her smiling, and buting his lips. He really couldnt contain himself when she was acting this adorable. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to eat me.”

Tom laughs out loud at her comment. “But I kinda do...like everyday.”

“TOM WERE IN PUBLIC!” She squeals covering face.

“Okay love birds, stop the flirting and give me one more pose. If you can manage just kiss each other without falling, I think it’d be perfect.” Harry instructs.

“Dont have to tell me twice, brother.” Tom replies as he looks down at Y/N, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Tom he said kiss not snogg, dont get any ideas. We’re in public!” Sam yelled out.

“You three are such debbie downers, I swear.” Tom pouts.

“Yeah yeah, come on lover boy.” Y/N says curling her index finger to gesture him to lean forward. Tom happily accepts, as he leans down pressin his lips against her soft glossed ones. They stayed like this for sometime, feeling the slight tingles that came with it. Slowly...so very slowly did they pull away, but only for Tom to come in for two small pecks...three...well maybe four...Okay five but that was it.

“Wow...these actually came out good.” Harry said atonished by how well he captured the sweet moment between his brother and Y/N. Tom who was very excited to see how their came out, jumped down from the tree as he made his way towards Harry. Meanwhile Y/N took her time trying to make sure she didnt completely fall off the tree. Sam was watching Y/N as he had his phone recording her. He didnt think there would be much but knowing how clumsy she was anything was game.

She was barely 2 feet off the ground, but for some reason it felt like the empire state building. “Wha-Okay.” She speaks out as she takes a leap of faith. Y/N sticks the landing, she walks toward Sam, Tom, and Harry with confidence that only lasted 0.5 seconds.

Thump

“WHAAA.” Y/N sqeuals, as the branch hits her straight on the face.

While all three boy were heavily concerned, they couldnt help but laugh so hard at what happened to poor Y/N.

“IM SO GLAD I GOT THAT ON VIDEO.” Sam yells out, tears of laughter streaming down his face.

“My god that was priceless. Please send that to me.” Harry says emoting the same expression as his twin brother.

“Darling, are you okay?” Tom says stifling a laugh, as he checks her precious face. “How did you manage to hit the tree?”

“Honestly I dont know.” She cries laughing. “These things just happen.”

“It’s okay.” Tom places feather light kisses on the corner of her eye. “C’mon lets get you an apple cider donut.”

“This is going on instagram I hope you know that.” Harry yells out as the couple walks away.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader

[pochiperpe90]

Beware of the thief

How do you become the longest-lived criminal in the history of Italian comics? For LUCA MARINELLI it all started as a child, at the zoo. Before the eyes of a panther

«The cold determination of a panther that silently approaches its prey: this is the expression I tried to instill in our Diabolik's gaze». When Luca Marinelli frowns and lights up the panther's eyes - the writer has had the opportunity to get a taste of it during the interview - the first instinct is to flee that look: too intense. It will be him, armed with a dagger and dressed in the famous tight black jumpsuit, with a hood that leaves only the icy eyes uncovered, to interpret the anti-hero born from the imagination of Angela and Luciana Giussani - the two sisters of Milan well known in history as the Queens of Terror - in the awaited cinematic adaptation of the comic directed by the Manetti Bros. (Ammore e malavita), in cinemas from December 31st.

«Fifty years in the homes of Italians. 150 million copies sold. Impressive numbers. Diabolik is an icon, it belongs to the IMAGINARY of hundreds of thousands of people"

During a walk along the Kreuzberg canal in Berlin, his adopted city since 2012, the Roman actor explains that the choice to be inspired by the feline for the interpretation of the character is not accidental. «Fans will know that Diabolik takes his name from a panther. Their meeting, which lasts a few moments, is significant: after a high-tension face-to-face, the feline decides to spare the boy, almost as if he had smelled a fellow in him. The panther was one of my favorite animals as a child. I remember like it was yesterday the day my parents took me to see it at the zoo, and my amazement in front of that creature, that night-black mantle, shiny and iridescent, with bluish reflections, and that deep, rhythmic breathing. Finally, particularly indelible in my mind is the feeling of sovereign calm that emanated from the animal». “From the beginning, I had a good feeling about this film,” continues the actor. «The first meeting with the Manettis, which I have been following with interest since the time of Zora the Vampire, took place in Rome, in the neighborhood where both Antonio and Marco and I grew up. They explained to me that they had a very specific vision of the character's personality, but that they would like to see what I could offer them. We auditioned together, which was very useful in igniting the spark of collaboration. I have a clear memory of that day and the subsequent exchange of emotions and thoughts. When I later found out that I was chosen for the part, I was very happy».

Luca Marinelli is certainly not new to acting challenges. From the dazed Mattia in ‘The solitude of prime numbers’ (2010), the character with whom he conquers notoriety, over the years he engages in roles that are not very easy, very different from each other ("The only thing they have in common is my nose", ironically, pointing to his face), showing great versatility and an extraordinary capacity for psychological identification. Among his most convincing interpretations, that of the Zingaro in ‘They call me Jeeg’ and that of Martin Eden in the homonymous film by Pietro Marcello, with which he won, respectively, the Silver Ribbon and a David di Donatello as best supporting actor and the Coppa Volpi as best actor. But dealing with a myth like Diabolik, the object of an almost sacred cult, is a new challenge.

«Fifty years in the homes of Italians. 150 million copies sold. Impressive numbers. Diabolik is an icon, and for this reason it belongs to the imagination of hundreds of thousands of people. If you think you can satisfy them all, you start off on the wrong foot: you risk that the final result is not what you really want to stage, but I'm sure the public will not be disappointed, or at least I hope. You will see how much love and respect there was in implementing this transposition", explains the actor, who speaks with full knowledge of the challenge of interpreting an icon: in 2018 he plays a true sacred monster, Fabrizio De André, in ‘Principe Libero’ by Luca Facchini. A friend told him: you're crazy to take this part. But he, careless, immerses himself in the biography of the singer-songwriter, ventures like a shrink into the maze of his psyche, and he returns to the man of that icon, receiving critical acclaim for that insidious role. The only flaw, some malevolent purists observe, is his Roman accent.

Despite being a comic book hero, to face Diabolik, the actor «decided to avoid any comic characterization of the character, trying to give a convincing representation from a human, psychological point of view. Who is this mysterious man, who with his criminal findings terrorizes the rich city of Clerville? What vicissitudes lead him to become a king of crime? Questions that have become the starting point of my research. For months and months, my flat was flooded with comics, scattered all over the place. And for every hundred I read, the Manettis - who I suspect know all the 800 and more numbers in the series - were ready to lend me as many». Day after day, Marinelli has thus sneaked into the lair of the King of Terror: he spied on his objects, opened his wardrobe, rummaged in his drawers. “I fell in love with him, unconditionally, without giving in to the temptation to express a condemnation or an acquittal. It is a precious lesson, which was passed on to me in the Academy: never judge your character. You risk that a distance will form between you and him which, I play hard, is negatively reflected in the quality of the interpretation».

The result is a film that is radically different from the first film adaptation, directed by Mario Bava, in 1968. "Among its strengths, there is a fascinating 1960s aesthetic, made up of machines, costumes, places and a thousand technological inventions of our Diabolik», he says. “To my great pleasure, I was involved in the discussion of the character's look right from the start. Particularly difficult was the development of the mask and the legendary black suit, designed by Diabolik himself and equipped with fantastic characteristics, not repeatable in reality. An almost impossible mission, but after weeks of attempts, thanks to the collaboration of all departments, we arrived at a result that was very satisfied: we did it by working together. I want to emphasize the all together. When you work with the Manetti Bros., this aspect is deeply tangible: everything takes place in an atmosphere of great exchange and collaboration. Many have known each other within the crew for years, and one almost has the impression of having been adopted by a large family, rather than working on a normal set ».

“Who is this mysterious man who terrorizes the rich city of Clerville? What led him to become what he is? For months these questions have been my RESEARCH"

The film - which the Manettis defined as "darkly romantic" - will also tell, to the delight of fans, the prodromes of the love story between Diabolik and his partner in crime, Eva Kant (Miriam Leone). "Two special, different people who first sniff each other with suspicion, only to recognize each other as soul mates," he explains. “I really like their level of complicity. Diabolik, however, is a very tough and reserved character, who rarely shows a feeling: this is certainly one of the differences, perhaps the clearest, between him and me. I am his opposite: as a good romantic and empathetic, I confess, I often cry. I think that doing so can be an important moment of openness, growth and awareness, which we should learn to actively seek. Are you feeling down? Play the saddest song you know and give yourself a treat: enjoy your tears, a friend once told me. Holy words: woe to keep everything inside. You run the risk of walling yourself up alive behind a senseless wall of hardness».

Although "very interesting", the actor prefers to gloss over future film projects out of luck. "At the moment my wife and I (the German actress Alissa Jung) are very busy with our association: we are about to open the headquarters of PenPaper-Peace in Italy, the association founded by Alissa in Germany, with which we built two schools in Haiti after the disastrous earthquake of 2010». As the actor launches into the memories of his first trip to the Caribbean island, the weeping willows of the Kreuzberg canal that framed the interview mentally give way, for a moment, to the lush vegetation of the Caribbean. «Indelible memories. Two years after the disastrous earthquake, I found a country on its knees, surrounded by rubble, pain and despair, but also many smiles and a contagious desire to live", he says. As the name of our association suggests, all you need is a sheet of paper and a pen, and you can give a child education, and with it a possibility, a future. And this not only in Haiti, but all over the world. At the moment we are focusing on a project in Italy that will support the boys and girls who are going through this difficult period of the pandemic».

GQ Italia

Just wanted to translate this interview for the non-italian’s fans ^^ (sorry for my English)  

#Luca Marinelli #interview #diabolik #english #translation #magazine #GQ Italia

[hermannsthumb]

If you’re still doing summer prompts, could you do graduation for newmann?

15. Graduation

from (the very old) summer prompts meme here

enjoy some awkward pre-canon jaeger academy ~ROOMMATES~!! also I am pretty sure this message/prompt is from at least a year ago (if not TWO) but it was only today that I really thought about what I wanted to write for it and wrote in like a FRENZY. content warning for alcohol (no like intoxication tho)

--------

It was hardly to be expected that Newton would be mature over the whole thing, but Hermann finds himself in a perpetual state of agitation the final weeks of their enrollment at the Jaeger Academy anyway. Newton was very young, Hermann knows, when he graduated from university (at least he was young the first time he graduated), and he can only assume the man took it rather hard that he didn’t get to have the proper send-off he thought he deserved—all-night parties with kegerators and beer pong, one-dollar shots at dive bars, trips to the seaside with classmates. One wasn’t likely to invite someone who’d barely breached his teens and still had braces to those sorts of things, after all. It’s the only reason Hermann can think of as to why Newton has spent the month—the whole month—popping open champagne at all hours and organizing spin-the-bottle in the base rec room and generally being a great bloody nuisance to everyone they have the misfortune of sharing their graduating class with. Over-compensation is what it is.

Having Newton as his bunkmate adds a special level of unbearableness to it all. At least—and Hermann does thank the stars above for this—tomorrow marks the end of a very miserable month. A very miserable two years.

“Everyone is going to be there,” Newton says. He’s wearing an oversized pair of neon sunglasses over his regular glasses, for some reason, those abhorrently dated kind with the slatted lenses, and dangling from his left hand are two bottles of pink champagne. A bag of plastic cups dangles in the other. “Everyone. Not even just the k-scientists—the techs, the ranger trainees, the—”

“That all sounds very thrilling,” Hermann says, hefting a stack of button-ups into a cardboard box he’s labeled Clothing – Gottlieb. “You’re aware, I assume, that we’re meant to be moving out tomorrow, and you’ve not touched anything on your side of the room?”

“Dude, I have sooo much time,” Newton says. Hermann realizes now the seal on one of the champagne bottles is broken—which might explain some of Newton’s suspiciously carefree mood. “Besides, I barely even have that much shit here.”

This is patently untrue. Newton’s clothing is overflowing from his dresser; manga and monster action figures and vinyl records clutter up every inch of its top surface; there’s laundry under his bed, on his bed, his guitar picks on Hermann’s bedside table, dirty mugs on his own, half-finished reports and articles scattered over his desk… “Fine,” Hermann says. “But I haven’t finished, at any rate, so I won’t be joining you.”

Newton flops down next to him on his bed; the stopper on the opened champagne bottle wobbles dangerously, and Hermann moves quickly to push it in more firmly so he doesn’t have to add a load of bed linens to his To-Do list. “I think you need to unwind, roomie,” Newton says, grinning up at him. Both pairs of his glasses have slipped off his nose and onto Hermann’s bedspread. “We’ll have all day tomorrow after the dumb ceremony to pack, and you haven’t taken a break in, like, seven years. You’ve earned one.”

Hermann doesn’t want to take a break, or at least not in the way Newton is suggesting. Hermann wants to finish packing up his half of the room, then his designated workspace in the large k-science laboratory, and then take a shower to wash himself of the experience of being Newton Geiszler’s roommate and labmate for two years too many. Noticing his reticence, Newton adds, pleadingly, “Come for one hour? Just to do two shots with me? One shot?” He blinks, half-blind without his glasses, as if trying to discern whether or not Hermann looks likely to give in. “No shots? C’mon, Hermann, you owe me.”

“Owe you?” Hermann says, frowning.

Newton nudges him with the stack of plastic cups. “Y’know—for the sake of your ol’ penpal,” he says.

The reference to their letter-writing days jars Hermann, and despite his best efforts not to show it to Newton, his hand trembles as he deposits an unopened pack of white socks into his laundry box. He thinks it may be the first time either of them have brought it up in the entirety of their time at the Academy. It’s certainly the first time either of them have admitted to even the slightest notion of a shared history since—a week into their first year here, at an ice-breaking event for their kaiju-science peers—Newton had rolled his eyes exaggeratedly when someone attempted to introduce him to Hermann and said “Yeah, Dr. Gottlieb and I go wayyyy back.” Hermann did not admit so at the time, but the use of the honorific in place of his first name had been unexpectedly wounding—ridiculous of him, considering he made a point of referring to Newton in precisely the same way. Perhaps that little slip of the tongue had been why they were assigned as roommates scarcely a week later. An assumed friendship.

Hermann picks up Newton’s thick eyeglasses and carefully slips them back onto Newton’s upside-down face. Newton wrinkles his nose when Hermann’s thumb accidentally brushes against its tip. “I just don’t like parties very much, Newton,” he says. He’s not sure when Dr. Geiszler became Newton to him, or rather, became Newton to him again.

“Then we can do something together here,” Newton says.

He sits up and pushes the sealed champagne bottle at Hermann’s chest. “This is for you, anyway. Graduation present. Bury the hatchet, you know—odds are pretty fucking high we’re never gonna see each other again, so there’s no use hating each other forever.”

In spite of his better judgement, Hermann takes the champagne bottle. One drink won’t hurt him. And anyway, it might be a little relaxing—so long as it’s one drink only, because he still has an entire two years’ worth of research to pack away in his laboratory desk. “Do you know where you’re being assigned already, then?” he says. He was under the impression they wouldn’t find out until after the ceremony tomorrow—bit last minute, he supposes, but it’s not as if they’re making their own travel arrangements, and nearly all of their colleagues have already brought their families along with them to the Academy base.

“Nah,” Newton says, “but I wrote down a lot on my request form.” He motions for Hermann to hand him back the bottle, and he begins unscrewing the wire holding down the cork. “Tokyo—Peru—" He moves the bottle away from the bed as he pops it open with a grunt of effort, and a small bit of foam spills to the cement floor. Hermann grits his teeth and tries not to worry about cleaning it up later. “—Los Angeles. I worked on one of my PhDs in California, you know, a few weeks one July. Sea sponges. I learned how to scuba dive, I loved it—I think that’s one of the first things I’m gonna do if—once this is all over.”

He looks strangely maudlin as Hermann pours himself some champagne into one of the plastic cups and suffers through a sip. Too sweet. Hermann’s never liked sweet wines—bloody awful hangovers the next day, if one isn’t careful.

“Their entire ecosystem would be destroyed now, I guess,” Newton says. “Kaiju blue poisoning.”

“Whose?” Hermann says.

“The sea sponges’,” Newton says.

Hermann sips more of the champagne so he won’t have to respond. “I requested Anchorage,” he offers. Among plenty others, but he knows Newton will get a kick out of ribbing him for the dreary Alaskan climate. It seems to work—Newton lights up at once with a loud snort.

“Of course you did, ya weirdo,” he says. “Have fun freezing your ass off.” He takes a sip right from his bottle, then holds it out to Hermann. “Well, Hermann—you were an annoying lab partner, an even more annoying roommate, but a decent penpal, and I’m—well, I’m not gonna miss you, but I guess I can’t say I hate everything about you. Good luck with the jaegers. Good luck to whoever gets stuck with you next, actually, yikes, don’t envy them! Here’s to never seeing each other again.”

Hermann rolls his eyes, but knocks his plastic cup against Newton’s bottle. “Best of luck to you, as well,” he says. “And here’s to—well, surviving.”

“That’s cheerful,” Newton says.

They drink to their toast. Down the hall, someone puts on loud music to a chorus of equally loud cheers. Hermann reckons that’ll be Newton’s party. “You ought to head over there,” he says, turning briefly to glance at their door, which Newton has left cracked open. “Otherwise, they’ll miss—”

Newton kisses him.

Hermann doesn’t necessarily kiss back, but he doesn’t push Newton away, either. He’s more bewildered than anything. He might’ve expected this sort of thing to happen years ago—years, and years ago, before that dreadful first meeting in some dingy little Berlin coffee shop, back when a new letter from Dr. Geiszler slipped through his mail slot could make his heart thud like nothing else—but they’ve hardly been anything to each other but colleagues these past two years. Not even quite colleagues—that implies a civility they don’t possess. Professional academic rivals. He was under the impression that the man hated him, that the data when they underwent standard tests for drift compatibility was merely a fluke.

His empty cup falls from his hand and clatters to the floor. Newton slides a hand up Hermann’s jaw and keeps kissing him; he makes a small, needy noise into Hermann’s mouth.

“Newton,” Hermann finally mumbles. “What are you doing?”

Newton pulls back. A brilliant red flush is creeping steadily across his face, and he opens and closes his mouth a few times before anything comes out. “Oh, shit,” he says. “I didn’t mean—”

He stumbles to his feet. “Shit, dude, I’m sorry, I like—”

“Newton?” Hermann repeats. He feels about as dazed as Newton looks; he’s not quite sure what he’s meant to say. His lips are tingling from the kiss. “I—?”

“I’m gonna go to the party,” Newton stammers. “Sorry, dude, I—misread signals? I guess? Um—” He steps on Hermann’s forgotten cup and skids slightly, catching and righting himself on one of Hermann’s bed posts. The movement knocks Hermann’s cane (hooked there) to the floor, and Newton must bend down twice before he succeeds in picking it up. “Just—um—okay, bye.”

Hermann stares at the door for a long time after Newton leaves. Tomorrow marks the end of their two years cohabitating and working together—as Newton said, odds are high their paths will never cross again. Hermann had been counting down the days to their graduation in a little calendar he keeps pinned neatly to his wall, daydreaming endlessly of the first thing he would do once he was free from the suffocating cloud of Newton Geiszler’s presence—daydreaming of the like-minded non-Geiszlerian colleagues he would meet at his Shatterdome assignment, of a neat and orderly laboratory devoid of kaiju residue over every communal surface, of his own living quarters. He should be excited. He should be ecstatic.

Hermann touches his mouth and feels nothing but strange sort of hollowness in his chest—a black hole enveloping all else.

---

He doesn’t see Newton until their graduation ceremony the next day, an affair made all the more awkward by the seating chart’s alphabetical arrangement ensuring Drs. Geiszler and Gottlieb will be knocking elbows for the full two hours. Newton is late by nearly twenty minutes, and rushes in with badly unkempt hair and a backwards tie: Hermann has a feeling he’d been lurking outside their quarters and waiting for Hermann to leave before he dared dart in to get himself ready. He wonders where Newton spent the night. He wonders why he even cares. Likely passed out on the rec room floor after the party, judging from the confetti stuck to his left cheek—or perhaps he’d finally made a move on the fellow kaiju-biologist Hermann recalls him extolling the physicality of on more than one occasion, and spent the night with him—or perhaps he did neither, and merely wandered the base for hours, sleep evading him as it’d so entirely evaded Hermann. They don’t acknowledge each other for the whole of the ceremony.

Hermann is summoned to the office of the jaeger science program head (a severe woman with short hair) later that evening, shortly after he finishes taping up his very last box of papers in the vacant laboratory. He’s handed a small manila folder containing the details of his Shatterdome assignment: Hong Kong, as it turns out. One of his requests. “Since you and Dr. Newton Geiszler have displayed a strong work ethic when partnered together,” the woman begins, “as well as a very high level of drift compatibility—”

Hermann’s eyes snap up from his folder to her face.

“—we’ll be assigning him to Hong Kong’s kaiju science division along with you, under the assumption that together you will only continue to produce positive results.”

“Pardon?” Hermann says, weakly.

Newton has finished boxing up a majority of his belongings when Hermann drags himself through the door to their quarters an hour later. He glances at Hermann briefly, embarrassedly, and says, in a small voice, “Hey, Hermann.”

“Newton,” Hermann says.

He walks over and sits down heavily atop the pile of sheets on his stripped bed. Something pokes at his thigh, and he sets aside his cane to fumble through the sheet bundle to discover what: Newton’s forgotten neon shuttered shades. The sight of them sends his stomach twisting up in knots. “Oh, hey,” Newton says, as he wraps a Godzilla action figure with bubble wrap. He nods at the manila envelope clenched between Hermann’s fingers. “Where are they shipping you off to? I’m going to Hong Kong—should be cool. I’ve never been before.” He places the little Godzilla in a carboard box. Newt - Junk! the side says in purple Sharpie. “My flight leaves tomorrow afternoon—you’re right, I definitely should’ve started packing earlier, I have no idea how I’m gonna get this all done by then.”

Hermann stares at Newton in poorly-concealed amazement as he continues to ramble on about how to pack up his instruments and whether or not they’ll let him bring his first-ever kaiju sample with him (he’s attached to it, even though he knows it’s technically the academy’s property, but maybe he can find a way to smuggle it out in his checked bags or something). Does he not know? Did they not tell him? How could they let this fall on Hermann? “Newton,” he says, slowly. “I’ve been assigned to Hong Kong, too.”

Newton freezes. “No fucking way,” he says.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

[onf-headcanons]

ONF and their high maintenance S/O (mostly about makeups and manicures)

dislcaimer : I dont support the mentality of aegyoing/manipulating/sabotaging your partner to buy you stuffs. Gifts are gifts but its not their are not full responsibility. It is also not a duty/obligation for your partner to recognize delicate makeup product when they can't and buy you your makeup product as well.

What i am saying even though here is that bf gifting lipsticks it does not mean guys should do it and also does not mean that if your own bf could not do it then they dont love you. ok let go to hcs.

Hyojin

I think he will ask you to drop the heavy makeup after you two are comfortable with each other. To him it was not your makeup that impressed him to date you.

He is the type that "I don't get make up but ok you look good" type of person, I mean have you watched how he get ready to go out in the Berlin trip? He just do basic stuffs not even a delicate touch XD

I think because he has a sister back at home? But if you think he will at least know a bit of stuffs because he has a sister then you are wrong lol

But he does understand if you wanna doll up a bit. I think he personally appreciates those times when he caught himself felt that you are dazzling.

I think its cute that maybe you only do basic light make up when going out with him but then when you join him with his friends, you wanna look good so you will put on proper make up (not over heavy ones). But Hyojin be like , " oh, come on... Its just my friends XD"

He is the type that waits for you, unless you have really bad time management, he will come over to rush you. "Hey hey hey, we are gonna be late"

Does not interested at make up or beauty stuffs so he would always questions with curiosity when he saw stuffs like.. " Glue? for what? Eyelashes? Won't it be dangerous?" (Especially you are the type that watches make up vids)

Bonus, you are in charge of his skin care, most of the time.

another bonus, the type that laughs at you if you are the type that opens your mouth when you are drawing eyeline

Changyoon

Very similar to Hyojin so I will skip make up and focus on the nail polish

(Also expanding the Changyoon who loves your hand hcs)

He knows of nail polish and the basic stuffs like base, polish and top, but did not pay full attention on manicure and pedicure stuffs

So when the first time you brought out mini UV light to cure your nails, he goes " Woah they got stuffs like that? why no one told me? I spend minutes blowing at my nails to dry during BB era"

Bonus if you work in nail salon or pick up manicure as hobby, i think you might share a bit of design you found online and ask him his opinions. His will comment a bit.

Also you might grasp his hands and try out newly thought designs on his hands

Bonus if he blushes and burst into laughter until you jokingly snap at him, "Ya, its not the first time I do design test out using your hands? Why are you beet red?"

To go deep into his mentality, he does not hate make up, he gets it. But for manicure he acknowledges it as art expression of oneself as well.

I think he prefer short nail manicure, once you get a longer sharper designs and you cant do your task like how you did normally, Changyoon nags you.

Also Changyoon thoughts on fake nail stickers, "Super convenient!"

He would love to try do your manicures if he got the chance. Not just painting plain color, he might also try following designs that your show him.

Seungjun

He is a delicate boy hahahah (watch leaders Berlin trip then you will get it)

Not the type that can recognize different shades of lipstick or foundation, but he still have basic knowledge. I do see is the type that will keep in mind what color you uses and will present you your favorite lipstick color. Or even randomly choose 1 color that he thinks it might look good on you.

I think you two will stand side by side in front of mirror and do make up and help each other check a bit. Especially eye shadow color, and hairstyles (if it is outdoor date day)

The type that notices changes on you but will tease you by keep saying the wrong answers. "Hey you look different? Is it the eyeshadow? Or was it a new earring? eh I was wrong?*devilsh smile"

He has two sisters so he is used and knows that girls and high maintenance people wears makeup. BB cream at least.

Fascinated when he first time sees you do your own manicure, he saw Changyoon paint nails during BB era, but if it is his first time seeing you painting quite complicated nail design from scratch, he goes "OOOOOOH so thats is how it done? 0A0"

I think he might introduce his sisters to you if you are a makeup artist or if you work at nail salon

Bonus if you are the type that do really minimum skin care, because of his (idk if i am using the right word) eagerness of doing facial mask, you might pick that up too lol

Both of you having facial mask on and chilling on the couch watching TV

another bonus, you two bickering because either one of you made the other one laugh too much making the mask cracked if it is dried up cream type.

Jaeyoung

He is like a combination of Hyojin and Seungjun?

Not sure on his skin care stuff but he will do basic stuff and I think he focus on stylizing his hair more? (but unlike Seungjun, Jaeyoung is more on styling using wax and hairspray)

the type who cant tell difference in lipstick shade lol

He thinks light makeup with less procedure/product look good on you. Especially if you are the one who is super insecure and wakes up super early to do heavy but natural looking makeup before work

Owh special mention, natural shade/nude shade themed makeup is his favourite

He has high respect on people who are high maintenance, but if you are too over enthusiastic he will tell you to slow down and go light heart on it, "Its to boost confidence/feel good about yourself right? Its not to impress others by overdoing it right?"

If you are a tiktok-er. I think you might ask Jaeyoung to do the my boyfriend did my make up challenge (To add, you cant trust Hyojin and Seungjun on this cos high chance if their prank mode kick in, rip. Changyoon will do it tho but you need to persuade him. Jaeyoung and Minkyun are the easiest to ask)

If sometimes Jaeyoung caught seeing you watching manicure design vids or you happened to try out a new manicure design from tutorial you saw online, he will sit beside, try hard to not disturb you. But while watching he will goes "Uwa, Shingi hada/ this is intriguing/amazing." (Try watch Mini game heaven season 2 0316, when he is the one holding the word board, the face he make as he is watching the leaders appeared in my head when writing this lol)

bonus, if you are doing really intricate work like placing a small sticker or draw a small design or sticking a small trinket? on your nails, Jaeyoung will also focus with you by holding his breath as he watches you doing your tasks

Minkyun

You trusted this boy to do BF do my makeup challenge and you regret it soon after, but the view results are amazing lol

but i think their S/O might lowkey get trauma lol and always decline Minkyun offer to help do makeup hahah

But again, when he do try to do it properly, he is ok

bonus, you two had to get another mirror because Minkyun is standing in front yours to check himself out every time he styles his hair a single bit, and it delays your pace of doing your make up.

Appreciate effort of you wanna look good, also he is the type who sits behind S/O while waiting them to finish up makeup (others will wait outside, But Minkyun is the type I want see whole process of how their S/O "transform")

Also the one who will sit beside you as you do your own manicure, or, the bf who will sit beside their S/O at nail salon watching the whole process.

But his hands are busy as he is also curious, so he will reach out to check the nail polish bottle or even the UV cure machine

So, he is also the type that will follow you into Sephora or makeup selling shops (is not that the others wont follow, but I want to highlight specifically for Minkyun). Hands busy, checking out stuffs.

Unlike Seungjun, the type that really cant tell if you change new lipstick or switched new eyeshadow.

BUT I THINK THIS PERSON, HE WILL SUDDENLY DROP A NEON EYESHAOW OUT OF BLUE IN FRONT OF YOU WHEN YOU ARE PAYING. You are gonna fluster if you are not the type who do daring colors. Minkyun only giggles and say " You wont know if you don't like it if you try?"

the funny bit, its not even him paying when he wants you to try lol

He is more of skincare type person. Similar to Seungjun, both of you cuddling with sheet masks on.

Yuto

The one who sticks to basic stuffs, skincare mostly

Also the type who will try to do makeup challenge diligently, asking you how should he do it rather than making a mess on your face.

The type that gives you thumbs up and affirming nods when you ask him how do you look.

He won't comment too much or nags/persuade you to stop doing heavy makeup eventually because he respects effort and confidence boost behind your makeup/high maintenance mentality

But he is flustered when you suddenly did a "I did a instagram summer gal makeup and show my bf" (for example) as it was way different and you look different. The moment you suggest to make this makeup theme as your usual, YUTO PANICKED, "Stop, stop, Mon sori yo? / What did you just say?"

IF you are office worker, he will nag at you if you are thinking straight to wear that makeup to office lol

The type that just quietly follows behind you when you are doing your shopping tour at Sephora or makeup shop.

But he will stop you if he sees your eyes gleaming as you stand at lipsticks corner lol (If you are the type who loves to collect and have too much lipsticks)

Occasionally surprise you with your fave lipstick color as well. Especially on early days of the relationship, you think he is the type that does not care. But turns out he is observant (because it is you so he is observant at your favorite stuffs)

Owh... i think he will be the perfume sensitive type person? He will mention what type of fragrance that he think you will go along well with.

Also I think the type who will recognizes if you changed perfume. Also the type who recognizes if you used his.

He might ask you to try on a sample and then you two might get a couple lover perfume/fragrance.

A/n : finally T^T this draft is in draft for like what... 6 months??? T^T

#onf #onf headcanons #onf imagines #onf scenarios #onf hyojin #onf j-us #onf e-tion #onf wyatt #onf mk #onf u #hyojin #j-us #lee seungjoon #lee seungjun #kim hyojin #lee changyoon #park minkyun #shim jaeyoung #mizuguchi yuto

[softyhyunjin]

ldr ⊵ bang chan

Description: Distance definitely makes the heart grow fonder.

இ genre: friends to lovers, ldr, college au, angst?, def fluff             

இ pairing: chan x reader                                                                              

இ word count: 12.5k

warnings?: there’s alc, and a pretty mf hot chan

a/n: @changbeanie it’s been a while ´･ᴗ･` wow, just wow 

↫ i ↬

“Chan, I need to spill the tea!”

He came to a halt, setting aside his unopened One Piece mystery figures. When he looked into the camera lens, his brows knit together in a little frown. 

“No Y/N, you can’t spill the tea! The tea is hot, and if you spill it, you are gonna get burned,” Chan playfully scolded you and laughed shortly after. 

“I’m serious Chan,” you whined, covering your face to hide your warm cheeks. Chan laughed even more. You didn’t know whether he was laughing at you or his joke. Maybe it was both. 

He calmed down and leaned back into his gaming chair. Sighing in content, he looked at you from his monitor, smiling softly. “Go ahead, tell me,” Chan said. 

“Can I really?” You removed your hands from your face and rolled your eyes. 

“Yes, now go!” He chuckled. 

“I caught Changbin on a date with someone!” 

Chan faked a gasp, “Ahhh, no way.”

“Oh, so you knew?”

“Yes, but I’d like you to finish spilling the tea.”

“That’s all I wanted to spill,” you scoffed. Of course, Chan would know about Changbin’s love life, he was close to all his friends after all. Now, your reasoning for calling him went down the drain. Useless. 

Chan shrugged, “He already told me his plan to confess to his crush a while back, so I’m not surprised. Ruby, I think that’s her name? Yeah.” 

“Okay, goodnight then. I’ll call you later this week if I can,” you sighed in defeat, swiping your mouse pad to hang up. 

“Wait, wait, wait. Y/N, you didn’t even let me finish opening the package you sent me. Don’t you want to see who I got?” His eyes lit up at his unopened One Piece figures. 

“Not really, it cost me a fortune to ship it out to you,” you spun around in your chair, faking disinterest to the birthday boy, but in reality, you wanted to stretch the call as long as you could. You really missed him. 

Chan had been studying abroad in Berlin for two months. You remember him speaking to you about it and listing his options in order: Berlin, Dublin, and Paris. When you asked why he placed Berlin as his first choice, he said its nightlife attracted him the most, which isn’t surprising, considering the night owl he is. And bonus, it was cheaper than his other options. 

“Should I call Woojin to watch me unbox instead, then?” He cocked his brow. 

“Do you really want him to watch you unbox it?” You pouted.

“Noo, I want you to watch me. But… I guess you don’t wanna,” Bang Chan shrugged.

“Ugh, you already know I do.”

“Then why didn’t you say so in the first place?” He teased further, enjoying his ability to easily earn a reaction from you. 

“Are you coming back to Sydney for Thanksgiving?” You responded with a question. 

“No, it would be pointless because I have to immediately fly back to Berlin for finals. Maybe I should stay here until the 22nd of December. Besides, I’m gonna miss it here. Oh-“ He excitedly tore off the wrap of his gift, “Tony Tony Chopper. I had a feeling I would get him,” he laughed. 

“Oh,” you said in a small voice but quickly hid your disappointment and smiled. “I was hoping you’d get him.”

Inside, you were pretty bummed out. Not seeing Chan for over a month was torture. Whatever you wanted to try would have to wait until he got back: the new restaurant by the mall, going on a fishing trip, and using the remaining benefits of your favorite amusement park’s season pass. Most importantly, you chose to wait for him to come home so that the two of you could binge-watch the latest season of Stranger Things. 

Chan had already caught the disappointment in your voice and put down the Tony Tony Chopper figure. Propping his elbow onto the desk, he used his palm to cup his chin, leaning into the monitor. Although he was ten thousand miles away, the gesture made him feel closer to you and Sydney. “You know that’s not what I meant. I miss home, my mum’s cooking, hanging with the guys, and cuddling with Berry. I get homesick at times, but I love it here.”

“I know, I’m just bored without you. I want to go bar hopping in Sydney again,” you groaned, feeling bad for making Chan explain himself when he didn’t even need to. 

“Tch, you just want to see the guys drunk call their girlfriends again.”

“Not even! I only want to see Hyunjin drunk call his girlfriend, it’s so cute when he whines to her about wanting to be the little spoon. He gets so embarrassed whenever Jisung and I show him the recordings,” you cackled like a witch. 

Chan shook his head in disapproval, chuckling at your words, “Y/N, You’re so evil. Just wait until you’re the one to drunk call somebody.”

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll have somebody by the time you come back,” you shrugged. 

“Oooh, well, do you?” 

“We’ll just have to wait until the next time we go bar hopping.”

“Then, you’re gonna have to wait for another two months,” he sang through the screen, his hand reaching for the mouse to select a song on one of his Spotify playlists. 

SLANDER & Said the Sky - Potions (ft. JT Roach)

“It’s going to be a long wait,” you sighed, drumming your fingers against your desk. 

“Every time you said a word, I was starin' at your lips. I don't think I've ever been so close to a love like this,” he sang along before taking a pause to say, “I’ll be home before you know it.”

Shooting him with a finger gun, you suggested, “Ahah! Are drinks gonna be on you?” 

“Shouldn’t you be buying? I’m the one coming home.”

You scowled. “Ask the boys because you miss them.”

“Don’t worry, I miss you too,” Chan easily confessed, bobbing his head to the drop of the bass. 

↫ ii ↬

“Gobble gobble gobble!” 

“Shut up, we don’t even have a turkey,” Minho said, slapping Jisung’s ass when he took up the entire couch. 

Jisung scooted enough for Minho to sit and used his lap as a pillow, “Hey, I told everyone to pitch in for our lovely Friendsgiving, but nooo! So, it ain’t my problem.”

“We pitched in for beef, that’s even better,” Hyunjin said, jumping back when the meat hit the electric grill, abruptly sizzling and splattering oil onto his hand. 

“Gimme that, you’re going to end up burning the meat and your hand,” Jeongin took the metal tongs from Hyunjin, increasing the temperature of the grill and adding more slices of brisket. 

“Haha, who are you trying to impress? Y/N?” Woojin joked.

Seungmin killed Woojin’s joke in an instant, “No, he’s trying to practice for his crush. They went out the other day and she cooked for him the whole time.”

Changbin stole the first slice of meat from the serving tray, saying with a mouthful, “Big fat rip, dude.”

 “Hello?” Felix said after picking up an incoming call from his phone. He rolled his eyes at the person speaking on the other line, “Liv, I told you to always have your wallet on you. No, I am not going to drive over to drop it off. Just stop by the house on your way to the movies.”

“Your sister left her wallet at home again?” Jisung asked. 

Felix shrugged, “Yeah, she always does that. I’m not gonna drop it off to her this time. Whatever, she said she’ll be here in ten.” 

You wedged yourself between Felix and Seungmin on the couch, making yourself comfortable while Felix challenged Minho on Super Smash Bros. Jisung had just finished setting up his Nintendo Switch on Felix’s TV and tossed both controllers to the first round competitors. Felix selected Dark Pit whereas Minho did the random selection and got Ness. 

“Nooooo! FUCK.” Felix screeched after Minho sent his character flying off the platform. You covered your ears but laughed at Felix’s loss. 

Minho smirked, nodding to his opponent, wiggling his eyebrows. “Do you want to change your fighter?” 

Rolling his tongue in his mouth, Felix shook his head, “No, rematch.”

The doorbell rang. Without a glance, too absorbed into his rematch with Minho, Felix asked you to open the front gate for Olivia. You left the couch and went outside to open it for her. When you opened the wooden gate, you found Bang Chan waiting outside instead of Felix’s sister. Your mouth went agape. 

“You’re back...” You said, stepping aside to let him in. 

Shock was still written across your face. He gently patted his carry on before leaning in to take a look at your face. Jokingly, he said, “I take it that you’re not thrilled to see me, should I leave then?”

Seeing him in person made your heart swell. You suddenly remembered how much you missed him. Overwhelmed by his presence, your eyes began to pool with tears and just could not stop. Without blinking, a big, fat tear escaped. Wiping the stray tear with the sleeve of your hoodie, you wanted to stop crying but wound up sniffling. 

Chan reached for your other arm, gently drawing small circles with his thumb. He couldn’t help but laugh as he attempted to soothe you. “Hey, hey, why are you crying?” He cooed, throwing another joke, “Maybe I should just leave…”

“No, don't.” 

Although tears kept on falling, you laughed back and patted your cheeks dry with your sleeve. Chan let go of the carry-on, spreading his arms wide for only one reason. You accepted his invitation, leaning forward to wrap your arms around his torso. “Don’t worry, I missed you too. But I didn’t expect you to cry so much,” he teased. 

The vibration his laughter gave off, made your insides feel warm and fuzzy. Chan smelled like fresh laundry mixed with the familiar cologne he only wore for special occasions. He rocked you side to side, and you could feel the smile spread across his face from his chuckling. You wanted to hug him even longer but a notification went off, causing both of you to pull away from each other. 

It was coming from the Apple Watch gifted to him from everyone for his 21st birthday. Chan checked the notification, disregarding it when it began to spam. “Let’s go inside,” he said, patting your shoulders to make you head in first. 

“Finally! What took you so long?” Felix jumped from the couch to give Chan a hug. 

Chan gave a nonchalant shrug, “My mum wouldn’t stop talking. If it weren’t for Hannah and Olivia needing a ride to the mall, I would’ve gotten here much later.”

“Christopher Bang, I have been waiting for you,” Jisung swooped in, giving Chan a bear hug. Then, weakly whispered into his dear friend’s ear, “If it was any longer, I would’ve died from starvation.”

You frowned all of a sudden. “Wait, all of you guys knew he was coming back for Thanksgiving?” 

“Surprise!” Felix awkwardly laughed because he knew you were going to strangle him later.

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t he come back? It’s Thanksgiving,” Hyunjin walked out of the kitchen with the rest of the guys to hug Chan. 

“You said you weren’t though,” you said, narrowing your eyes at Chan. He removed the black cap from his head, sheepishly running a hand through his... dark brown hair? There was no longer a strand of dirty blonde. “Oh my god, and you dyed your hair back to your natural hair color,” you gasped. 

“Boy, I am starving,” he whistled, purposely ignoring your stare. 

Jisung wrapped his arms around yours and Chan’s shoulders, inhaling the aroma of Seungmin’s freshly baked pies coming from the oven. “I’m so fucking stoked to eat. Let’s eat.”

↫ iii ↬ bh.pt.i ↫

Famous Dex - Japan

“Baby girl, what you doing, where your mans? I just popped a xan, fifty thousand in Japan.”

Chan sang Japan by Famous Dex, pointing to Felix once they both made eye contact. Felix quickly caught on, finishing the chorus with a strong dab, “I ain't doin' no playin', these red bottoms, not no Vans. And she tellin' all her friends, I might put 'em on the Gram, aye!” 

“I don’t know you two anymore,” you cringed at the pair. Once the song was over, they started singing to Lil Uzi Vert’s ‘XO TOUR Llif3.’ 

“Should've saw the way she looked me in my eyes. She said baby I am not afraid to, die. Push me to the edge, all my friends are dead, push me to the edge, all my friends are dead,” they both sang, clasping each other’s hands and bobbing their heads. 

“Ah shit, the Uber driver is gonna be outside in two minutes,” Felix cursed and ran upstairs to his room to grab his bomber. 

“Hurry, or else we’re going to leave you!” Chan shouted towards the stairs, then, lowering his voice to tell you, “Let’s leave him.”

You rolled your eyes, and he cracked a smile. 

After Thanksgiving, Chan had two and a half days left before heading back to Berlin. You wanted to spend as much time as you can with him. Not only you, but everyone else wanted to. And the perfect way to do it: 

Bar hopping. (bh)

Jisung brought up the idea because he wanted to buy his friend a drink. It was a treat for Chan since he’s been away for nearly three months. But also, Jisung was anticipating to record any of Hyunjin’s embarrassing moments. For him, it was killing two birds with one stone. 

“Thank you, sir, have a good one,” Chan said to the Uber driver, waving goodbye as he was the last to exit the backseat of the car. 

Felix scanned the area, squinting whenever he saw anyone coming out of a shop. “Uh, we just arrived. Where are you- Oh! I see Woojin waiting in the front,” he hung up. 

“I’m so hungry.” Your stomach grumbled. 

“Yoooooo! Broski, over here,” Felix waved both hands in the air. The three of you approached Woojin, giving him a hug before entering the bar. 

Everyone was already seated inside munching on some salted peanuts. Changbin tossed a peanut into the air, and Jisung caught it in his mouth, extending his arms in the air to gloat his victory. “Now buy me a drink,” he demanded. 

“Fine,” Changbin scoffed but agreed. 

Once the three of you settled down in the large booth, Woojin ordered a beer and a shot of tequila for each person. You were excited to drink but hated tequila. It was the first alcohol to ever give you a massive hangover. The taste was disgusting and a measly whiff could still trigger your gag reflexes. 

“Alright, whoever finishes last needs to take another shot of tequila,” Felix snickered. 

“Ugh, no,” Hyunjin groaned.  

Chan leaned in to whisper into your ear, “Will you be able to handle it?” 

You bumped your left shoulder against his right, “Of course, who do you think I am?” 

Changbin knocked on the table, grabbing everyone’s attention. “3! 2! 1! Go!” 

You chugged the beer while keeping your eyes open for the rest of the guys. Most of them started off with their shot of tequila to get it over with while you, Jisung, and Jeongin started off with beer. By the time you were halfway done with your beer, the tequila starters were beginning to touch their beers. Some were still making faces from sucking the complementary lime wedges that came with the tequila. 

Finishing the last of your beer, Jisung slapped the table with his shot glass. Still sucking his like wedge, he pointed at you to hurry so you can come in second place. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, grabbing the lime wedge in one hand and the tequila shot in the other, downing it in one go. “That’s so fucking nasty,” you whined and chewed into the lime wedge. 

“Done,” Changbin said, sliding his empty drinks into the center of the table. 

Next, Chan burped out loud, saying, “I’m done. Excuse me.”

When everyone finished, the order came out to be: Jisung, Y/N, Changbin, Chan, Woojin, Minho, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin, Hyunjin. 

“FUck, this shit. I hate bar hop… ping,” Hyunjin complained, burping in defeat. 

“Bottoms up, loser,” Jisung laughed. 

“Drink! Drink! Drink!” Everyone chanted, cheering when Hyunjin finished the last of the devil’s juice. Already, his face was getting red as he lazily brushed his messy bangs away from his eyes. 

Even though Jeongin was second to the last place, he was eager to move on to the next round. Rubbing his hands in excitement, he asked, “So what’s next?” 

↫ iii ↬ barhopping pt.ii ↫

“We are just going to take it chill this round,” Seungmin cutely laughed. 

The lightweight slurred, jabbing his index finger onto Seungmin’s chest, “No, you wanted to take it chill this round.”

“He’s trying to save you,” you slapped Hyunjin’s back, “But I don’t mind taking it chill this round.”

Already tipsy and spouting out nonsense like always, Jisung called you out, “Y/N, what’s with the getup today?” 

He really emphasized the makeup and your fitted black off-shoulder top with dramatic John Cena hand movements. You grew embarrassed by the sudden attention. Now, everyone’s eyes were on you, especially Bang Chan’s. Your cheeks grew warm as you blushed, but that honestly did not matter because the lighting of the second bar was dark enough to hide them. 

“Jisung, they’re just falsies,” you rolled your eyes. 

Hyunjin cocked an eyebrow into your direction, “My girlfriend likes to wear them when she’s going out. Are you going out with anybody?” He put his head down and burped. “Keeping seCrets huh? uGH, I miss my girlfriend.”

“Nooo, definitely not…” You sighed, “I just felt like doing something different today.” 

“Is it because Chan is back?” Seungmin felt like he cracked the Da Vinci Code. Ridiculous. 

“You’re ridiculous, Kim Seungmin.”

Felix intervened, lazily karate-chopping his arm into the table. Thanks to him, he saved you from making a fool of yourself. “What about me? Didn’t you know anything different about me today?” He slurred. 

“You’re drunk,” Seungmin pointed out the obvious. 

“No, not yet. I got a new bomber, duh. Go ahead, touch it,” Felix suggested. He grabbed Seungmin’s hand, hovering it over his jacket. Then, Felix made him caress the smooth material. 

Both you and Chan burst out laughing. Then, you both turned to look at each other. When your laughter died down, you glanced at his plump lips and looked away with a sigh on yours. 

Why did you go out of your own way to put on makeup and wear your silver drop earrings? The top was a gift from one of your girlfriends. It’s been sitting in your closet for ages, but still, it was something different. 

The guys began to plan for the winter break agenda and Chan joined in on the conversation. He remembered the video call between you and him. It was around the time of his birthday when he unboxed the mystery One Piece figures you sent to him... Did you ever find somebody? 

For a moment, there was this unsettling feeling growing inside of his chest. Yeah, why did she look differently today, is what he thought. You were never ‘ugly’ in his opinion, you were just Y/N. Whatever you choose to do shouldn't matter, so Chan did what anyone would do: He brushed it off. 

Chan glanced over, feeling a little taken aback when you laughed at something Minho said about Hyunjin. Whenever he was surprised, his eyebrows did this thing where they would cutely knot upwards and his eyes would light up. But this time, it was different. Yes, he was surprised but the expression on his face grew soft immediately after you made eye contact with him. 

You raised the glass of your favorite cocktail to your lips, nodding in excitement when Jisung ‘secretly’ whipped out his phone and began recording Hyunjin. Then, you broke into a playful grin while biting into the black stirring straw before sipping your drink. Yeah, he thought you were really attractive right now. 

For some reason, Bang Chan felt like his body was engulfed by flames. 

You raised a brow, offering him to try your drink with a smile. Chan blinked back, totally aware he was staring at you. Luckily, you weren’t and thought he was curious about your drink. 

Turning down your offer, he decided to lay off on the drinking for the rest of this round. It was the alcohol causing him to feel this way, or that’s what he thought. 

If not, this was going to be a big problem. 

↫ iii ↬ barhopping pt.iii ↫

“Last but not least, we are going to get hammered with soju and meat,” Jisung cupped Changbin’s cheeks, then, patting them like how Asian grandmothers would select the perfect watermelons. 

Before Changbin could place him into a chokehold, Jisung clumsily ran into the restaurant to request for seats. He almost ran into one of the patio heaters in the process. “Come back, you fucking squirrel!” Changbin waved his fist in the air like an old man. 

He adopts a sailors’ mouth when he drinks lol. 

Hyunjin had an arm draped over Woojin’s shoulders. He’s already sobered up by now. “Let’s make sure he gets hammered tonight,” he said, then, pointed a finger at you, “And Y/N.”

“I say we should go for it,” Woojin supported his friend.

Your eyes widened. “What did I do?”

“He’s still salty you sent recordings to his girlfriend,” Jeongin teased Hyunjin, his eyes effortlessly creasing into the cutest eye smile. He reminded you of a baby fox. 

“I didn’t, it was Jisung. Recordings were sent from his phone,” You shrugged and stuck your tongue out when Hyunjin mimicked you. 

Jisung peeked at everyone from the restaurant door and caught Seungmin’s attention first, signaling him to bring everyone inside. Seungmin said, “Let’s go, seats are ready.” 

“I already picked out the meats. Now, the hardest part is choosing the soju flavor,” Jisung looked at the drinks menu with heart eyes. 

Changbin took the menu from Jisung’s hands, cockily skimming through it. “Leave it to me, I know what we should stay away from.”

When the waiter came by, Changbin ended up ordering two large yogurts, two fruit-flavored, and two original soju. Seven drinks. Everyone looked at him with their jaws dropped. “You’re actually insane,” Felix said even though he was at a loss of words. 

“The frat boy mentality has sprung onto him. It’s too late, we can’t save him,” Chan cried, covering his warm face, dramatically tugging it downwards with both hands. 

You sighed and lay your head onto Chan’s shoulder. You were still buzzed, but it was going to be a long night. Earlier, he put his jean jacket over your shoulders when some guy walked by and gave you a whistle. You were very uncomfortable from receiving the unwanted attention coming from a sleazebag and hid behind Chan’s broad frame. 

You were getting tired but still wanted to have fun. Chan’s shoulder was a muscular pillow. Your eyes glanced at the sleeve of his black T-shirt. Then, your eyes trailed down to his arm veins, his hand, and the ring on his pinky finger. It was your gift to him for his birthday this year. There was this strong urge to place your hand on top of his and flip it over so that the palm of his hand would be open for you to entwine your fingers in. 

Fuck, why is he so hot?

You didn’t actually do it though, you could not bring yourself to. When you tilted your head upwards, Chan was laughing at Woojin’s disaster story about his most recent blind date. He must’ve felt your gaze on him so he stopped paying attention to the story. Chan laid his eyes on you while you blinked back in surprise with a tinge of pink on your cheeks. His eyes held your gaze momentarily before trailing down to your lips, and so did you. 

You were both waiting for something to happen. The tension-

“Drinks and meat are here,” Minho excitedly cleared the table for the waiter. 

Both you and Chan looked away from each other at the same time. You instantly removed your head from his shoulder, and he cleared his throat. You were both left feeling embarrassed, however, Chan also felt nervous. You, on the other hand, felt a heavyweight on top of your chest. 

For this last round of bar hopping, you both avoided any sort of eye contact or slight skinship with one another. It was too risky, making a nervous wreck out of both you and Chan. 

“Let’s play Truth or Drink mixed with Never Have I Ever,” Changbin said, pouring a drink into everybody’s shot glass, filling it to the brim. 

Minho scoffed but enjoyed the idea, “You’re just asking for everyone to drink.”

“That’s the point.”

“Never have I ever almost joined a cult back in high school,” Jisung tsked over to his friend, snickering when Hyunjin and Jeongin downed the shot in one go. 

Hyunjin went next and glared at Jisung, “Never have I ever lived in Malaysia during my childhood.”

Jisung narrowed his eyes at Hyunjin, chewing on a piece of meat after drinking his shot. “Playing like that, I see.”

“Well, you started it.”

“No, you.”

“You.”

“You.”

Chan interrupted their bickering, and said, “Moving on, never have I ever… Cheated on an exam.” Everyone groaned, drinking except for him, Seungmin, and Hyunjin. Then, it was your turn. 

“Er… Never have I ever blacked out from drinking,” you peeked around, raising your glass to everyone. Changbin, Woojin, Chan, Jisung, Hyunjin, and Felix all clinked their glasses together. 

“Alcoholics,” Minho shook his head, eyeing each person with false disappointment written on his face. 

“Shut the fuck up, you have no right. You’re the goddamn instigator,” Jisung kicked Minho’s foot under the table. 

“Stop playing footsies with me.”

“Oh, I can stop whenever I want to.”

“Can I go now?” Seungmin stuck a piece of rib finger into Jisung’s mouth. Everyone gave him the go, so he suggested, “Let’s do Truth or Drink this round, and the question applies to everyone. If you were a serial killer in a movie, who would you kill first? On the count of three, point your finger to the person. 3! 2! 1!”

“Wow.” And it wasn’t hard to guess who it was. 

The rest of the night went by like that, playing more rounds of Never Have I Ever and Truth or Drink. More than half of the group was drunk and Hyunjin had his head down. He already knocked out and was drooling. You were drunk too but waited for Felix to take his turn. 

Propping your chin in the palm of your right hand, you felt your eyelids become heavier the longer Felix took to ask his question. Finally, he asked everyone, “What are you the most grateful for?”

“I’m the most grateful for my cats,” Minho brought up his fingers and began to list each cat, “Soonie, Doongie, and Dori. Sometimes, I get hissed at but I still love them all.”

It was Chan’s turn. “Mmm,” he thought, “I’d say, my parents, because if they never gifted me with music, I wouldn’t be CB97 right now.”

“And there wouldn’t be SPEARmint and your one and only,” Jisung sluggishly pointed to himself, groaning, “J.One.”

“It’s SPEARB,” Changbin whined, hugging Jisung. 

Chan was beginning to sober up and sipped on his half-full glass of water. Getting sentimental and smiling over to his rap unit members, his ears perked up when it was your turn. You had your head and arms sprawled across the table, earning a laugh from Minho when you palmed your forehead with a disgruntled look on your face. Your head hurt, but you continued, “I am grateful for a lot of things. My dog, meeting my ultimate bias, and having you guys in my life.”

“That’s so generic, be more specific,” Minho teased. 

“Lix, I’m grateful for Felix. If my dad never met his dad in their twenties, I would’ve never grown up with Lix. My dad wouldn’t have almost accidentally run over him that one time when he was running away from Rachel.”

“Huh, I remembered that day. Rachel got so mad at me for reading her diary. I mean, she did leave it on the couch,” Felix reminisced, chuckling at the memory from long ago. 

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, a little confused with what you shared. “Shouldn’t you be grateful for your dad meeting Felix’s dad? And not Felix?”

“Sure, but it’s Felix I am most grateful for. Because without him, I would’ve never met everyone else… and Chan,” you patted Felix’s bomber with your eyes closed and expected him to feel touched by your words. 

“Why say it like that? What differentiates Chan from everyone else?” Jeongin asked with a small pout on his lips. Chan wanted to know as well. He didn’t know why you paused a little before saying his name. Was he special to you in any way? 

Yeah. What differentiates Chan from everyone else? 

“Stop asking me, and let’s move on to Felix. It hurts to think,” you complained.

↫ iv ↬

“Oi bro, today was fun. But I’m fucking wasted,” Felix burped. He leaned his head against the door frame while intensely staring at the door handle. Concentration was key, literally. Felix needed to press the correct keys or else you, him, and Chan would be sleeping in the front yard tonight. Nobody was home. 

“You good there, buddy?” Chan asked with a concerned tone. 

Felix entered the correct code and the numbers on the keypad lit up blue, making him internally jumping with happiness. “Ohh hell yeah. Uh-”

Then, he pushed through the door, startling Chan as he ran through the living room and into the kitchen to hurl into the nearest trash can. Chan quickly went after Felix while still carrying you on his back. “Bro,” he cringed at the loose chunks in the trash can and rubbed Felix’s back, “Keep throwing up, it’ll definitely make you feel better. I’m gonna get you some water. Just let me take Y/N upstairs.”

Felix waved Chan off and said he’d be fine. He was going to go straight to his room afterward, change into his pajamas, and chug the huge hydro flask by his bed. It seems like Felix planned for this to happen, so Chan didn’t have to worry much. 

Chan carried you upstairs to the guest room and carefully unwrapped your arms from his neck when he sat on the bed. When he let go, you hit the back of your head against the headboard and whined in pain. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry,” he whispered. 

“Ugh, how long have I been out for,” you said, clutching onto the back of your head. 

Chan shrugged, turning around to look at you. “Just the ride back home.”

“I’m not looking forward to a hangover tomorrow.”

You expected Chan to respond but there was no reply. When you peeked one eye open, he was gone. You sighed, rolling to your side to face the window. Why did you feel so puzzled all of a sudden? 

“Are you asleep?” A voice whispered from the end of the bed. 

It was Chan and he had a tall glass of water in his hands. You sat up, thanking him as you took the glass and greedily drank from it. When you finished, you placed it onto the nightstand before laying on your back again. 

“Am I different?” Chan suddenly asked. 

“What do you mean?”

“Like, am I different from the others?” 

You lightly shoved his arm with your foot. “Other guys? Yeah, you’re CB97.”

He shook his head. It wasn’t the answer he wanted. “No, actually, never mind,” he said, changing his mind. 

You frowned and sat up. Then, you nudged his arm, bugging him to tell you, “What is it? Tell me, Bang Chan.”

When you whined, even more, he softly chuckled, facing you with a smile. The only source of light came from outside’s yard lamp through the window slits. You held in a breath when he leaned in. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

↫ v ↬

“Y/N, why are we doing this? You know I can’t bake.”

Felix frowned at the baking instructions displayed on his phone. He was having a hard time converting grams to ounces because the mixer was too disruptive. It was annoyingly loud. For the love of god, he spilled some powdered sugar onto the counter. 

“I need help, Lix. It’s hard to make macarons by myself,” you huffed, blowing a strand of your bangs out of the way. 

“What’s in it for me? I could be sleeping in right now,” Felix scoffed but went to the cupboard to grab sugar, salt, and almond flour. 

“You get to spend quality time with me for free. Also, you can eat delicious strawberry macarons. They’re your favorite.”

He shook his head, “No, they’re Chan’s favorite. I already knew your intentions the moment you asked to come over. And, I like banana flavored.”

“What’s with you and banana?”

“Don’t you just love the way it’s pronounced? Banana,” he smiled, thinking about bananas. 

Handing Felix the electric mixer, you bossed him around, enjoying every moment of it, “No, now beat the eggs with the mixer until it becomes stiff peaks,” 

“Y/N, If you like Chan, it’s okay to admit it. I won’t judge you,” he said, cracking a couple eggs into a large bowl, then scooped the yolks into a smaller bowl, “But I’ll make fun of you.”

You paused whatever you were doing to ask, “Why’d you say that out of the blue? That’s odd.” 

“Look,” he paused, “When have you ever went out of your way to gift homemade cookies for someone? This is cute child’s play Y/N.” 

“Never. But everyone is getting a share of this batch, so I don’t know why you’re quick to assume,” you nervously shrugged. Why were you nervous? There was no reason. 

“But who were you thinking of surprising when you bought the ingredients?” 

You eyed the egg whites sliding off the cracked eggshells in his hand as they slowly dripped into the mixing bowl. Cringing at his sloppiness, you told him to start mixing and less talking. “Why would I like him, it’d never work out between us,” you muttered under your breath. 

“Just don’t complain to me when he comes back with a girlfriend from his study abroad program,” Felix annoyingly sang, hitting the power button on the electric mixer. You felt something inside of you sort of snap.

“What?” You asked. 

“You’re not the only girl he’s friends with. You know that right?” 

“Yeah, of course,” you said, trying to hide your disappointment. You were no special exception and it somehow made you feel more hopeless. Felix knew his words must’ve triggered something so he decided to tone it down.

“As your best friend, I know when you’re into someone. This time, it’s different. You may not think you’ve liked Chan for a long time, but trust me, I know,” Felix turned down the mixer to add some sugar with the whipped egg whites, “No matter how many guys you’ve liked in the past, you’d always set them aside for Chan. You don’t do things like having late-night phone calls, binge-watching One Piece, or bake fancy cookies for anyone else. Only Chan. Admit it before I knock some sense into you, idiot. You have a soft spot for him.”

“I do not…” You said in denial, but who were you trying to convince?

“Whatever,” Felix gave up and rolled his eyes. He adjusted the speed of the electric mixer, adding the rest of the sugar into the whipped egg whites. 

When Felix finished whipping the egg whites, they became stiff peaks. He removed the mixer from the bowl, distracted by the mixture’s consistency and unwillingness to budge. “Hey, Y/N,” he tapped your shoulder before holding the bowl of stiff peaks upside down above his head, “Check this out.”

“YONGBOK WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” You screamed his Korean name, hoping the mix wouldn’t fall onto his head and get on the floor. 

“Look, it’s not falling hehehe,” Felix laughed, remembering how he saw something like this in a Tasty video. 

You grabbed Felix’s shoulders in hopes of him putting the bowl down but then he placed it over your head and laughed. “Oh my god, if it gets in my hair, I’m gonna kill you,” you vigorously shook him. 

Felix laughed and put you in a headlock, threatening to coat your face in stiff peaks. “You started it by calling me Yongbok.”

“Yongbok, Yongbokie, LEE YONGBOK,” you giggled when he locked you in tighter. His soft hoodie tickled your neck and you were scared of getting smeared with the cookie mixture. 

“What are you guys doing?” 

Felix dropped his arm to his side and placed the mixing bowl onto the counter. You stood up, fixing your now messy ponytail and awkwardly coughed. 

Chan stood by the kitchen entrance with his arms crossed, looking somewhat displeased. You looked anywhere else but him. When you finally made eye contact with Chan, he quickly avoided it and cleared his throat. “I just came to say goodbye,” he said. 

“But isn’t your flight at 5?” Felix glanced at his oven’s built-in clock, “It’s not even noon yet and you’re already leaving?” 

“My parents want to have lunch with me before dropping me off at the airport. They invited my grandparents and other relatives, so it’s going to take a while.”

“Do the rest know?” 

Chan nodded, “Yeah, I’m going to head back to grab my luggage after lunch, but I messaged them earlier and came to say goodbye just in case.”

Felix walked over to Chan and gave him the tightest bear hug, “Take care and stay safe. I’ll see you in a few weeks?”

“Yeah, and take care as well,” Chan smiled. 

“For sure.”

When their hug was over, Felix said he needed to grab a charger from upstairs because his phone was about to die. You didn’t want to be alone with Chan because you were afraid of acting weird around him, then no one could save you. “What are you two making?” Chan nodded at the mess in the kitchen. 

You shyly smiled, “Uh… Cookies? Hey Chan, are you going to stop by here again after your family lunch?”

“Maybe not, I’m not sure. I’ll call you if I do.”

“Hmmm, okay,” you nodded awkwardly, “I guess I’ll see you in a few weeks too.”

“Yeah, I’ll be back before you know it,” Chan smiled and began teasing, “Better not be a crybaby once I leave.” 

You slapped his arm, “It won’t happen again, just let it gooo.”

“Hmm, nooo,” he laughed. 

When Chan’s laughter died down, he stared at you with a small sigh. You were acting a little different today and he kind of had an idea as to why. He thought you sensed something unusual about his behavior, making you feel awkward towards him. He just wanted to board the plane right now and get his thoughts settled. 

Chan wanted you to give him a hug like always but you refrained from doing so. By the time Felix came back down with his charger, he sensed the weird atmosphere and mouthed to you, ‘What did you do?’

You narrowed your eyes at him and Chan’s phone rang at the same time. It was Lucas on the other line, asking when his brother would be home since their grandparents would be arriving soon. Chan took that as a cue to be on his way, leaving you in the kitchen as Felix walked him out of the front door. 

Felix came into the kitchen confused, “What happened when I was gone?” 

“Nothing, we were just talking.” 

“Do you think we’re going to finish baking these macarons by the time he leaves to the airport?” Felix scratched his head. 

“I hope so,” you sighed. If you worked efficiently enough, it’s possible to finish on time. 

Chan quietly sat in the back seat of the minivan with his younger siblings on the way back from the restaurant. He’d usually bug Hannah about her recent boy crushes or watch Lucas play Monster Hunter on his 3DS. This time, he stared out the window with his EarPods in. A lot was on his mind. 

Chan felt sort of jealous, then stupid, then fine again. It was a cycle on his way back to the house. He knew Felix didn’t have any romantic feelings for you, but the tinge of jealousy would not leave his system. Chan let himself into the house when Felix had just finished mixing whatever. He was curious as to why Felix was up so early since his best friend tends to sleep in till noon during breaks. 

When Chan heard your voice, his ears perked up like a dog. He felt excited to see you and walked into the kitchen, hoping to surprise you. Instead, Chan himself was surprised when he found Felix holding you in a headlock. You were laughing and squirming in Felix’s hold, making Chan wish he didn’t see that. 

Not once have you laughed like that with Chan since he came back to visit. Chan thought you developed a crush on Felix but haven’t told him. But how could you not? You always tell Chan everything. He didn’t care if you liked someone… So what?

When they arrived home, Chan’s father pulled into the driveway. Everyone went inside to rest for a little while before sending him off to the airport. Chan still needed to go upstairs, so he could grab his things and load them into the trunk. After carrying his luggage downstairs and to the minivan, Chan popped open the trunk, halfway loading his things but stopped when his phone went off. 

He picked up the call with his earphones, unaware of the person calling, “Hello?” 

“H-have you left to the airport yet? Or are you still at home?” You said, heavily panting on the other line of the call. 

“Y/N?” Chan asked surprised, “I’m still at home. I just got back.” He waited for you to answer but you had already hung up. “Hello? Y/N?”

“Chan!” You ran up to him, exhausted and a little sweaty. Then, you placed a hand on your waist to keep yourself up as you slowly regain your breath. 

“Did you run here?” 

“Yes.”

“What? Why?”

You stuck your hand into the inside of your denim jacket and fished out a decent packaged goodie bag. “I didn’t want you to leave empty-handed, so I made you these.”

You never fail to catch Chan off guard these days. He slowly unraveled the bag as if it were a delicate rose, and peeked inside to see a couple of pink macarons. Although several of them were cracked because Felix opened the oven midway into baking, causing them to deflate, there were some good ones. 

“Is this what you were baking with Lix?” Chan asked. When you nodded, a smile couldn’t help but form on his lips. 

“Yeah, sorry if I didn’t ask you to stay or say much. I wanted it to be a surprise,” you shyly glanced around him, hoping he’d try one of the cracked cookie sandwiches. 

“Huh, I would’ve never guessed,” Chan laughed. As dumb as it sounds, he felt better knowing you were thinking of him. 

You peeked into his goodie bag, “Are you going to try one?”

“Yeah, here,” he handed you one before taking a bite of his own. 

You thought it was cute when Chan slowly chewed on the cookie. His eyes formed into crescents once he recognized the flavor. After finishing one macaron, he wrapped the bag, closing it and stuffed it into his pocket, “I’m saving these for when I wait to board the plane.”

“Here, eat mine,” you offered the uneaten macaron in your hand. 

“You don’t like strawberries?” 

“No, I do. But I know you like them more, so here,” you brought the miniature sandwich to his lips, smiling when he opened his mouth. 

“Fanks, tho good,” Chan said with a mouthful. 

“Ew, chew with your mouth closed.”

“Hmmm,” he swallowed the last of the macaron, “I said they’re really good, and thank you.”

Sighing in relief, you said, “Of course, I’m glad they come out burnt.”

“They came out kinda ugly though.”

You hit Chan’s bicep. “Then don’t eat them,” you held your hand out, “Return them.”

Chan laughed but reached into his pocket. Instead of handing the cookies back, he grabbed your hand and pulled you in for a hug. As his arms wrapped around your shoulders, he hugged tighter. You uncontrollably smiled, returning his hug and laughed at his sly move. Chan notices how he loves it when he’s this close to you. It makes him feel good to be around you. 

He likes to do this thing where he rocks you back and forth in his arms. You remembered the first time he did it was when you were juniors in high school. You embarrassed yourself in front of a guy you liked at the time and felt down for the whole day. It wasn’t until after school where you were forced to tag along with Felix and Chan to eat pizza which made you feel better. Although you weren’t by the time you met up with them, both caught the sight of your glossy eyes. 

Felix said he had to head back early because he needed to study for a bio test, but you and Chan both knew he would end up playing video games instead. Chan bought you a smoothie and walked you home since it was on the way to his. Before he let you go, he gave you a bear crushing hug, rocking you back and forth while telling you to cheer up and stop being a crybaby. His way of cheering you up always made you laugh and feel warm inside. 

Chan was your big, swol teddy bear. 

Fuck it, you liked him... It didn’t matter. You will deal with it later. 

“Did you really think I’d give them back?” He playfully teased. 

“If you did, I will never make you anything ever again. Ungrateful jerk,” you huffed, pretending to be angry. 

“Nah, I’d never,” he said softly. 

“When are you leaving?” You said, your voice a little muffled from being too close against his jacket. 

“Pretty soon. We’re just waiting for my dad to get off his food coma.”

“Ohh okay.”

Still hugging you, Chan felt like he really needed to say it. You already know though and it wouldn’t change anything, but a strange feeling of realization hit him. As cheesy as it sounds, he wanted to give you a light kiss on your forehead. Wow, he likes you and he is finally sure of his feelings. 

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna miss you,” Chan took a deep breath, “I always do, so don’t be a crybaby when I leave.”

↫ vi ↬

Chan rushed back to his dorm, feeling a surge of inspiration out of nowhere. It was a pain to sit through the last half of class when he was so eager to leave. He was excited to hop on his keyboard to work on a mix. 

Once he stepped into his room, he dumped his backpack onto the floor and stripped off his hoodie, tossing it onto the bed. Then, he pulled out the keyboard pad from his desk and began to set up his laptop and headphones. 

It was perfect. 

Chan was afraid he’d lose the beat or lyrics that came to his mind earlier, but he got it down pretty quick. Now, the hard part. He had to find a way for it to flow smoothly together. He hummed, his head bobbing to the new beat, but something was still lacking. 

“Maybe if I move this here, the transitioning would be a lot better,” Chan clicked on his mouse and dragged one of the clips, inserting it into the mix. When he replayed the sound, he smiled in content. 

CB97’s back, baby.

Just when he felt like he could add in another element, an incoming call interrupted his train of thought. It was from you. 

He picked up the call and swiped into the clock app to check the time zone in Sydney. His eyes widened, why were you calling him 12:30 in the morning? Did something happen?

“Hello? Y/N?” Chan said to the other line. 

“I’m bored,” you said. 

He laughed. “Why are you calling me? Are you by yourself?”

“No,” you replied, shaking your head, “I’m with Lix, Hyunjin, Jisung, and Changbin. Eww, Lix just threw up in the bushes.”

Chan cringed at the sound of his best friend hurling on the other line. It reminded him of the last time he went bar hopping with you and everyone. Now that Chan knew you were drinking, it was obvious you were drunk too. 

“Why’d you call?”

“I don’t know.”

He raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I don’t know… Hyunjin started calling his girlfriend midway through finishing his drink. Then Changbin called his to confess how much he likes her. And don’t get me started on Jisung,” you tiredly watched Jisung rub soothing circles on Felix’s back. 

“What about Jisung?” Chan chuckled, urging you to continue. 

“He FaceTimed his girlfriend and said he loves her and misses her even though he knows she’s going to kick his ass for getting drunk,” you sighed. 

“Then what?”

“Felix didn’t have anyone to call. He only searched up Momo on google images and angrily pointed at Heechul to treat her right or else he would fly to Korea to square up,” you laughed, starting to feel a little sick too. 

“What about you? Did you have anyone to call?” Chan removed himself from his desk and plopped onto his bed. 

“No, only you. There’s no one else to call, I don’t like anyone else,” you said truthfully. 

“Wow, so I was your last resort,” he joked. 

You felt liquid courage giving you a booster. Shaking your head, you sighed deeply as you watched Felix cough up the last of his partially digested pizza. “Never, I like you too much. I didn’t call anyone else because you’re the only one I want to talk to. So, no. Not my last resort, more like my automatic first choice,” you confessed. 

“Sure.”

“No, I mean it. I love you so much. I just want to hug you all day long. You have no idea how much I miss you,” you whined. 

Chan’s smile faltered and his heart began to race. There’s no way you meant that, did you? 

“How much did you drink?”

“Enough to feel like throwing up but not enough to actually throw up,” you groaned at the unsettling feeling in your stomach.

“Will you remember what you just said to me when you wake up tomorrow?”

“Of course. I always remember! Remember, you said I would someday drunk call somebody. Well, you were right,” you giggled.

Boy, he hoped so. Chan was shaken but couldn’t do much because you were intoxicated. If you did like him, he wanted you to confess when you’re actually sober. That way, Chan would know you were being serious. 

“Who’s not wasted? Can you hand them your phone?” Chan rolled in his bed while anxiously waiting. 

“Hello?” A familiar raspy voice asked. 

“Hey Bin, is everyone sleeping over at someone’s house tonight?”

“Oh, hey,” Changbin said tiredly, “Yeah, we’re going to head back to Felix’s soon. Just haven’t called an Uber yet because Y/N’s been on the phone. Everyone’s phones pretty much died.”

“That’s good,” Chan mumbled to himself, “Can you do me a favor and take care of Y/N for me? Just make sure she gets into a bed and drinks a glass of water before she sleeps. She’ll be fine by the time you guys get to the house since she sobers pretty fast.”

“Honestly, you should be here. She’s been talking about you all night long, but it’s Gucci. I’m gonna take care of everyone,” Changbin nonchalantly shrugged. It was no biggie to him. 

“Just keep an eye out for her and everyone else,” Chan sighed. 

Changbin nodded, “Yessir. I am going to order an Uber now, I’ll talk to you later. Oh shit, Y/N just threw up.”

“What? Wait-“

Although Chan’s heart was still pounding, he figured to leave it until tomorrow when you sobered up. He couldn’t stop rolling in his bed and suddenly felt more homesick. He didn’t know whether or not he should call you first thing tomorrow after his brunch with a classmate. Or maybe he should wait for you to say something? 

Either way, you drove him nuts. Both good and bad. 

The next morning, you stormed downstairs to look for the person who made you go out last night. He slept on the couch, snoring lightly and draped an arm over his eyes. 

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,” you angrily tossed one of the couch pillows at a hungover Felix. 

Felix tiredly rubbed his eyes. You woke him up and he palmed every spot on the couch for his phone. “What now?” He asked. 

“I should’ve never gone with you guys. I’m screwed,” you said in distress. 

“You’re so LOUD, I’m TRYNA SLEEP Y/N,” Jisung crankily got up from the couch and walked into Felix’s room to join Changbin under the covers. 

“What did I do?” Felix asked again. 

“I should have never gone drinking last night. I fucked up everything, I can’t bear to see Chan or even talk to him again,” you said, pacing back and forth in front of the TV. 

Felix laughed, “Did you drunk call him and confess?”

“I think so, something along the lines of that,” you tried to remember your exact words but brain fart. 

“Oh shit,” he chuckled. 

“It’s not funny,” you began tearing up, “I messed up everything. It won’t be the same anymore. I don’t want Chan to avoid and stop talking to me because of these stupid feelings.”

Alarmed with your glossy eyes, Felix jumped from the couch even though he still felt nauseous from last night. He patted your back, holding in a laugh when you blinked away some tears. You reminded him of Jeongin. “Y/N, you’re worrying over nothing. Chan’s not going to do that to you, trust me. You know, confessions don’t mean much when you’re drunk.”

Sniffling, you asked him, “What do you mean they don’t mean much when you’re drunk? There’s truth to those words.” 

“Being intoxicated makes you say a lot of things you would not choose to say if you were sober. One time, I even said Changbin’s arms were hot. Can you believe that?” He scoffed. 

“Yeah, I mean, they’re pretty thick.”

Felix rolled his eyes, “The point is, confessions are meaningful when you’re sober. There’s something about being fully aware of your words and having the courage to say it without having to rely on liquid courage. Your confession was most likely taken lightly. You were just letting a friend know you miss him, like a lot, but that’s it.”

“So everything will be okay?”

“Yes, so stop worrying.”

↫ vii ↬

But everything wasn’t okay. 

Chan kicked off his shoes and fell into bed right after his last final. It’s been almost two weeks since he last talked to you (you drunk calling him in the middle of the day), and he felt stuck. When he sent you messages and memes, you wouldn’t respond or would leave him on read. Sometimes, it’d be a miracle if you gave him short responses. Even then, the atmosphere was off and he didn’t know how to keep initiating without the conversation being cut short. 

On days like this, it’d be perfect to compose something, anything. However, Chan kept deleting newly recorded beats, dissatisfied with its quality and flow. He gave up and quit all his open programs. 

Without thinking about the different time zones, Chan went on Discord. His cursor hovered over your icon before he clicked on it. It��s now or never, he thought. Chan felt his heart pounding over a simple video call. He didn’t even know if you were going to answer. It’s better to not get his hopes up. 

When the server rang, he anxiously clicked open some tabs to respond to Felix and check Facebook. 

“Hello?” You asked, dreading the moment he called you. 

“Y/N?” Chan asked, surprised you answered. He stared at the monitor, taking in the image of you working on something in your notebook.  

“Hey,” you sighed. 

Chan’s brows furrowed. He grew concerned at the time of your voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m just tired. You know, the same thing always happening at school and work,” you lied, avoiding his stare. His gaze was still piercing through a screen. 

“Doesn’t seem like it. You usually talk about school and work, but you haven’t been doing so lately. Let alone at all,” Chan sadly stared at the screen as you pretended to be writing something important down. 

“Sorry, I’ve been pretty stressed lately. I haven’t had the time to talk or call,” you apologized, feeding him another lie. Oh, but he knew you were avoiding him. 

“You should’ve sent me a message or called me at least. It’s better to talk about it, Y/N. Keeping worries to yourself only make matters worse.”

“I’ll try to.”

Fed up with the tension, Chan frustratedly combed his hair with his fingers, “Cut the bullshit Y/N. I know you’ve been ignoring me. If it’s about that night you drunk called me, I’ll drop it. I know you don’t do homework at this time, especially on a Friday night.”

You dropped your pencil and stayed silent. Chan could only do so much on a screen. He stared at you, waiting for you to respond. It was dead silent because you could hear his hallmates talking in a foreign language as they passed by his door.

“Are you really not going to say anything?”

Finally looking up, you wiped off the tears that fell down to your cheeks, sighing. Chan sat up in his chair, worried he messed up. He thought you were going to end the call but held in a breath when you said, “What am I supposed to say? That, I’m sorry for having feelings for you? You say you can easily drop it, but I can’t.”

Chan let his hand cover his mouth, trying to hide his troubled expression. “Who said it was easy to drop it?”

“It’s not, but I screwed up… You’re aware of my feelings towards you. I can still remember that night’s conversation, and I know you do as well,” you covered your face, you didn’t want him to see you crying and looking like Rudolph, “It’s just going to be awkward for us the next time we’ll see each other. Everyone will sense it too. You’ll end up avoiding me.”

“Why do you say that? How can I avoid you? I’ve known you for years. That’s the least of your worries,” Chan said, frowning at your reasoning. He was utterly baffled. 

You slammed your palms onto the desk. “How is that the least of my worries? I like you more than a friend would, Chan. I have feelings for you, but I feel like I’m on the verge of losing one of the closest people in my life, you.”

You were both practically raising your voices on each other. 

He frustratedly started off strong, “What if you said those words to me when you were drunk but don’t actually mean it when you’re sober,” but finished in a small voice, “Then what?” 

“But that didn’t happen, so there’s no point in bringing up another possibility,” you softly said. 

“So what? Are you going to take back what you said? Because you can’t.”

Your heart dropped, and you wanted to bawl. “W-what?”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized and ended the call. 

You shut off your laptop and sat in your chair crying. When you got into bed, you curled into a ball with a tissue box beside you. You felt horrible. Everything was a mess. After going through twenty-something tissues, the mini trash can by your desk was filled with snot balls and evaporated tears. Exhausted and too tired to cry anymore, your eyelids slowly dropped until a notification popped up on the screen of your phone. 

It was a Surprise LIVE! from Monsta X. 

You chucked your phone away and it fell off the bed and onto the wooden floor. As if you cared about watching them live right now. If your ultimate bias couldn’t cheer you up with his smile, nothing could. 

You retrieved your phone to find a message from Chan. He only sent you a link directing you to Spotify playlist titled: 

↫ viii ↬ “I’m back and you didn’t even come with Lix to the airport to come to get me? I’m so hurt,” Chan pretended to be offended. He placed a hand over his chest, feigning hurt as you laughed at his attempt to be petty. Afterward, he excused himself to change into a more comfortable outfit and muted you on Discord.

When Chan finally unmuted the call, you blew a raspberry and stuck your tongue out at the camera. “I couldn’t, I was out of town. I just got back an hour ago,” you yawned, stretching your arms into the air. Then you spun around in your chair, coming to a complete stop when you saw him wearing a new sweatshirt.

“I knowww,” Chan dragged, taking a seat in front of his monitor again, “I’m surprised I’m not that jet lag.”

“It’ll catch up to you, trust me,” you rolled your eyes at the memory of your own jet lag experience. It was horrible. “Is that new? The quality looks expensive, what’s it made of?” You asked about his sweatshirt.

Chan touched the black fabric, pinching it between his fingers to emphasize his next words, “You can say it’s… boyfriend material…” He shyly laughed when you palmed your face at his cheesy joke, but you were laughing too. “I’M JOKING, ENOUGH,” he smiled.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be wearing that, Chan,” you teased.

He looked down at his sweatshirt, searching for any flaws. “Why? Does it look ugly on me?”

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head, “You’re a fraud.”

“For what?”

“As much as you’re wearing something that’s boyfriend material, are you boyfriend material?” You teased him again as he could only smile back at you. He took your hint pretty well.

Chan pretended to shrug and spun in his chair. He briefly stared at the ceiling, thinking of what to say next. When Chan looked into the lens, he chuckled softly, “Can I? Or shall I?”

“Can you what?” You didn’t get it.

“Be your boyfriend.”

You blushed and fell silent. Chan wiggled his eyebrows, feeling like he won this time. It was your turn to get teased by him. He was about to say something but you beat him to it.

“Ask me again in person,” you looked away from the screen of your laptop to hide your warm cheeks.

“Can I? Or shall I?”

“What?”

“Come over now,” Chan eagerly suggested.

It was obvious that he was super excited and wanted to see you in person. He was like a kid on a sugar high.

“Can I? Or shall I?”

When his joke was being repeated by someone else other than him, you, he tilted his head in confusion. “What?” He asked.

“Can I? Or shall I? Be your girlfriend.”

Bang Chan didn’t even have to think twice. “Yes.”

“Well, come on and get over here then,” you laughed.

“Be there in fifteen.”

↫ ix ↬

“Wow, that movie is so good. It’s the best one I’ve seen all year long,” Chan gushed as you searched for places to grab a quick drink before going home.

You both had just finished watching Parasite, a movie about a lower class family benefiting from a wealthy family. From the trailers you’ve watched with Chan, you both thought it was going to be some kind of horror movie. However, the plot was totally unexpected and kept you on your toes. 

Chan paid attention to the road but felt your eyes land on him. You smiled, adding on to what he was probably going to say next, “I’d say it deserves a ten out of ten from me.”

You navigated him to the nearest boba shop. To Chan’s luck, he found an open parking spot a few shops away from the place. When you got out of the car, the strong breeze hit your face, causing you to scrunch your nose. Chan noticed, so he put your hood on and tightly pulled onto the strings of your hoodie. You squealed, leaning away as he laughed. 

As you kept walking, you were tired of having your hand brush against his. So, you took his hand into yours, slowly entwining your fingers with his while holding them up to show him. Chan covered his face because he found you so cute. He wanted to give you a hug. 

“Can I see your wallet?” Chan asked. 

You didn’t know why but you gave it to him anyway. You were fine with it since he’s already seen your cringy IDs since high school. “Why, what are you going to do with it?” 

He ignored your question and approached the cashier, leaving you in the booth by yourself, asking, “Hi, can I get two roasted rice milk teas? Yeah, and with boba too.”

Then, Chan brought his phone out of his pocket, using  Apple Pay as you stood there in disbelief. He walked back to the booth, taking your hand in his and returned your wallet. “Wow, you’re sly,” you slapped his hand away. 

Chan chuckled, playing with the order number at his fingertips, “You can pay next time.”

“Oh, I will,” you stuck your tongue out. 

Once your drinks were out, Chan drove you back to your place. You sat in the car with him, getting nervous when he turned off the engine. “Do you wanna… “ He threw in a suggestion. 

You didn’t even let him finish. “W-wanna what?” 

Chan held back a small laugh, “I was wondering,” and he paused, “If you wanted to take a stroll around the neighborhood before we call it a night.”

You wanted to repeatedly slap your forehead for having inappropriate thoughts in the first place. When you didn’t give Chan an answer, he threw in another suggestion. “Unless it’s too cold outside, we can go back to my place and hang out with Berry,” he shrugged. 

Your eyes lit up at the mention of Berry. Your love for dogs was the same as it was for boba, and you excitedly nodded. Chan shook his head and rolled eyes his at your childlike reaction. He started his car again, reversing to give him some leeway and drove into the streets. His place wasn’t far from yours, it was only a five-minute drive and a fifteen-minute walk. 

After parking his car into the driveway, you bolted out of your seat and waited for him to catch up to you at the door. Chan teased you for being more excited to see Berry instead of him. When you said, ‘Of course,’ he stopped in the middle of unlocking the door and raised an eyebrow. 

Chan leaned in to whisper into your ear, “You can find your own ride back home, then.”

He bit his lip to prevent a smile from forming on his lips when you linked your arms with his, saying ‘sorry’ while begging him to drive you back home later. Of course, Chan was going to take you back. He wanted to make sure you were heading into your house safe and sound. When he finally unlocked the door, Berry woke up and shook herself before approaching the familiar scent of her owner. You heard small footsteps and the bell of her collar tinkling as she walked up to you and Chan. 

He petted her head, giving it a quick scratch before kicking his shoes off. You crouched down to pet Berry while she heavily sniffed your ankles and socks. There was a dog scent coming from you because you have a dog back at home too. 

Chan flipped on the lights and went to the kitchen to dump his empty drink into the motion sensor trash bin. When he walked into the living room, you had Berry laying flat on your chest and stomach. Her head pointed towards you and she cutely blinked, slowly beginning to fall asleep until Chan sat next to you. 

She got up, edging herself between you two and laid on her stomach, waiting for Chan to give her a belly rub. As he rubbed her belly, you looked around the living room and noticed the house was quiet. “Where’s everybody?” You asked. 

“Hannah’s at a sleepover and Lucas went with my parents to see a show. So I guess it’s just you and me.”

“Oh.”

“Wanna see what I’ve been working on?”

“Sure,” you nodded, feeling nervous again. Chan carried Berry back to her doggie bed by the fireplace, giving her one last pet before heading upstairs with you. When you walked into his room, you rolled your eyes at the giant monitors on his desk. Chan turned on his computer, satisfied with its smooth powering up, and typed in his password when the login appeared onto the screen.

Distracted by his light-up keyboard and mouse, you weren’t aware of him asking you to have a seat on his bed. Chan shook his head, handing you the mouse. “Go for it,” he offered you to change the color of his setup. 

When you handed back the mouse, Chan searched for a folder titled: CB97 and clicked on a file that opened into an audio clip. He played it for you, a soft smile appearing on his lips when you bobbed to the beat. “Do you have a name for this song in the making?”

“I’m thinking of… Hoodie Season?”

“I like that title,” you fell onto the bed as he played more clips for you to hear. When your eyelids were slowly beginning to droop, both yours and Chan’s phone buzzed. It was a Snapchat notification from Hyunjin. 

You reached into your butt pocket, whipping out your phone to take a look at whatever irrelevant thing Hyunjin would send to you at this time. When you opened his message, it was a recorded memory from a couple weeks back. 

“Yo, I’m sick as fuuu-“ Felix hyped himself until he threw up into the nearest bush outside of the local bar. Thank god the snap ended before you could see anything coming out, but it was still fun to watch. 

You giggled and pressed onto the next video.

“I miss you, I love you, and I know you’re going to kick my ass when you see me tomorrow,” Jisung whined to his girlfriend on the phone, “If you kick my ass, you will regret it. Then, you won’t have a nice ass to look at and touch anymore.”

Then the camera pointed at you. “You’re so gross,” you fake gagged and took out your own phone to dial your crush, “God, I miss Chan.”

Before you could finish watching the whole thing, you internally screamed inside your head and quickly skipped that part. “What was that?” Chan asked, plopping onto the bed to watch the video when he heard his name being said out loud. 

You immediately chucked the screen away, facing it down onto the bed, “Nothing.”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” Chan said, trying to peer over your shoulder.

Shaking your head, you tried to roll away, but he wrapped an arm around your waist, reaching for your phone with his free hand. You pleaded for him to not look, and he did exactly the opposite. 

Chan watched your drunk self confessing to him on the phone from that night. No matter how hard you’d try to wriggle out of his grasp and steal your phone back, he was too strong for you to do so. When the part where you handed your phone to Changbin came up, Hyunjin flipped the camera back to selfie mode to display his face. 

Hyunjin drunkenly pointed his index finger at the camera, trying to prove a point. “And that’s how you get back at Jisung and Y/N.” Several moments later, his eyes widened, “OH My GOD, Y/N.” 

You guessed the recording ended when you threw up. Not a good memory.

Your mouth went agape. Hyunjin did both you and Jisung dirty. 

“I’m going to kill him,” you said, clenching your fist. 

“And I’m going to screen record that from my phone,” Chan laughed, extending his arm to the desk for his phone until you pushed his shoulders back down. He landed onto the bed with a light thud, wrapping his arms around your waist again. Chan stared at your flushed cheeks, softly chuckling at your persistence to prevent him from watching your most embarrassing moment in life once more.

You glanced down to his lips, admiring his prominent cupid’s bow and held in a breath. Chan stared into your eyes, his eyes trailing down your nose, and then to your lips lovingly. Grinning like a fool, he was happy to have you as his and in his arms. Chan bit his lip, stopping the softest smile from spreading across his lips. He knew he failed to keep his cool. While his grip on your waist loosened, he brought a hand to your cheek, gently cupping it with his smooth palm. 

Chan leaned in, a small smirk quirking at the corner of his lips when you nervously gulped. You didn’t even have time to think because his lips were suddenly on yours. Chan pressed on slowly, grabbing your thigh to hitch you closer to him. You fluttered your eyes shut, savoring the taste of his lips as he took control. Chan loved the feeling of having your hands run down from his shoulders and to his chest. He’s honestly the master of the teasing game, lightly nipping at your bottom lip and flicking his tongue at the entrance of your mouth. Before he could deepen the kiss, he flipped you over, so that you’d be lying under him instead. Chan didn’t know where the night would take him and you didn’t either. 

But it is what it is, so he made sure to lock the door, just in case.

#stray kids #stray kids scenario #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids oneshot #stray kids chan #stray kids bang chan #bang chan #chan #chris bang #chan scenarios #bang chan scenarios #chan imagines #bang chan imagines #chan one shot #bang chang one shot #stray kids fluff #chan fluff #bang chan fluff #stray kids chan scenarios #stray kids chan one shot #kpop #kpop one shots #kpop fluff #kpop scenarios

[riversofmars]

And just thought of!! What if 13 and river bump into her previous self melody....and melody is hitting on 13. (Are her parents there as well)

Right, this got a little bit out of control, it turned out much longer than expected but I had a brilliant time writing this, I really hope you like it!!

Word Count: 2800

Genre: Comedy

Rating: G (but some swearing and innuendo lol)

AO3

Girls Night

“River we can’t do this…“ The Doctor protested as her wife was working the TARDIS’s controls. 

“Why not? You said you missed them and so do I.“ River retorted setting coordinates. 

“It’s too complicated, you know I can’t get to Manhattan anymore and…“ The Doctor tried to reason with her but to no avail.

“Who’s talking about Manhattan? We just pop in during one of your many absences, months at a time to pick from, we’ll be fine…“ River set the TARDIS going. 

“But the time stream, it would be their past, it could get very complicated if…“ The Doctor argued. 

“Hush, I do it all the time. We just don’t tell them it’s you, no biggie.“ River shrugged and grinned at her when the TARDIS landed.

“River, I really don’t think…“ The Doctor started again but her wife wouldn’t hear of it. She went to grab her hand and pulled her to the door. 

“Come along!“

They stepped outside and found themselves in the backyard of the Pond’s family home. It looked exactly as it had on so many of the Doctor’s previous trips here and she felt a wave of nostalgia gripping her. Maybe River was right, maybe it would be just fine. There were plenty of gaps in her travels with the Ponds, no reason why they couldn’t pop in if they were being careful about what they revealed. They just had to get their stories straight.

“River, what are we going to tell…“ The Doctor held her back. They couldn't just barge in unannounced, she hadn’t even bothered to check yet where in the Ponds’ timeline they were.

“River?“ Amy’s voice came across the yard. She must have heard the TARDIS landing to have come out to check.

“Amy!“ River waved at her mother and pulled the Doctor along.

“What are you…“ Amy eyed the TARDIS behind them curiously.

“Oh, just wanted to pop in for a visit.“ River grinned.

“Where’s the Doctor?“ Amy frowned a little confused.

“Busy. I borrowed the TARDIS, don’t worry, I’ll pop it right back, he’ll never know.“ River explained it away with a chuckle and a wave of her hand. Amy accepted the explanation, it wasn’t like it was the first time.

“And who’s this?“ Amy looked to the Doctor, surprised her daughter had brought company. The Doctor stared back at her in shocked. It had been so long since she had last seen her. She wanted nothing more than to pull her into a hug but she knew she shouldn’t. The lack of recognition in her eyes hurt more than she wanted to admit. It was like she was looking right through her.

“Spoilers.“ River answered.

“Spoilers?“ Amy repeated rolling her eyes. “Does spoilers have a name?“

“I brought wine.“ River changed the subject quickly and pulled two bottles of wine from her coat pocket. Dimensional engineering.

“When did you get those?“ The Doctor couldn’t help but ask but she knew she probably wouldn’t get an answer. Her wife had her ways…

“Well, that’s good, we are having girls night so that is perfect. It’s the Strictly finale.“ Amy grinned and took the wine off her as she ushered them inside. They followed her into the lounge and froze in the doorway when they realised there was someone else lounging on the sofa already.

“Who’s this Amy?“ Mels raised her eyebrows, eying the two of them curiously.

“This is River and her friend who hasn’t got a name.“ Amy explained gesturing to both of them in turn.  

“Friend or Girlfriend?“ Mels asked with a flirty grin as she looked the Doctor up and down who blushed.

“This is going to get very complicated.“ She mumbled to River who nodded slowly.

“Amy, I just need to talk to my wi… friend a minute, we’ll be right back.“ River announced to Amy who looked back at her confused but before she could protest, River was already dragging the Doctor down the hallway.

“Right, I’ll open the wine.“ Amy called after them. “No making out in my bedroom!“ She gave a shrug to Mels and then went to busy herself in the kitchen.

“Okay, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.“ River admitted, closing the bedroom door behind them.

“You think?!“ The Doctor exclaimed.

“That’s me…“ River gestured back towards the door.

“Yes, before Amy knows that! Her memories will blur, she’s not the problem but if Amy realises, that could be bad!“ The Doctor groaned in frustration. This was exactly the sort of thing she had been trying to avoid.

“Should we tell her who you are and just make her promise not to tell you?“ River suggested, trying to think of a way to make this easier for them.

“We should just go.“ The Doctor shook her head. “Because if you realise who I am, you’re going to try and kill me! This is you before we met!“ She had to remind her. “We should just get out of here, make you apologies to your mother and let’s go.“

“I’m sorry, Doctor, I really thought this would be fun…“ River ran her hand through her hair.

“Doctor? Well, I’ll say, this is going to be fun.“ They jumped when the door opened to reveal Mels.

“Mels…“ The Doctor said carefully taking a step towards her. She held her hands out, almost as if approaching a wild animal.

“How do you know me?“ Mels raised her eyebrows in amusement.

“How much of that did you hear?“ River asked the question she knew was on the tip of the Doctor’s tongue.

“Enough.“ Mels retorted with a wicked grin. “Love the hair, by the way, my, I look great, don’t I.“ She looked her future self up and down making clear she knew exactly what was going on here. “And you’re the Doctor? Certainly not who Amy described but I’ll take it.“ She turned her attention to the Doctor.

“It’s a tiny bit complicated timeline wise…“ The Doctor winced. At least Mels would forget about all this. They just needed to get out of this situation as soon as possible and preferable in one piece.

“I’m sure it’ll all straighten out just fine.“ Mels grinned and grabbed a letter opener from Amy’s desk.

“Okay, none of that.“ The Doctor was quick to sonic and disarm her as she had done in Berlin. “You will forget about this anyway and the timeline will stay intact.“

“OI! What are you all doing down there? I’m not drinking all this wine to myself.“ Amy’s voice called down the hall, interrupting the tense stand off.

“Amy can’t know, we’re in her future, you will be damaging your own timeline if you tell her.“ River gave Mels a stern warning. “I am you and I know that for a fact!“

Mels rolled her eyes at her but couldn’t respond as Amy stuck her head it.

“Come on then!“

They obliged and followed her, none of them wanted to ruin the fun for her.

“Sit down.“ Amy pointed to the sofa and handed out wine glasses.

Mels patted the sofa next to her indicating for the doctor to sit but River was quick to pull her along and sit her down the opposite end. She put her arm around the Doctor protectively and Amy dropped onto the sofa between River and Mels, eying their silent exchange curiously. She felt like she was missing something.

“It’s starting.“ The telly drew her attention as the Strictly Come Dancing theme tune came on and Amy leaned forward in excitement. “You’ve got to drink for every 10 scored and down your glass if anyone scores a perfect 40!“ She explained the rules of the drinking game.

“We are so going to regret this…“ The Doctor eyed the glass in her hand suspiciously and had a sniff of the wine. She disliked alcohol at the best of times but when she was trying to keep a level head from getting herself killed by her wife’s past self, it seemed even less appealing. The TV show, however, was actually quite fun to watch and they all got into it.

After a while, the doorbell went.

“That’ll be the pizza.“ Amy exclaimed full of excitement.

“I’ll go.“ Mels offered as Amy appeared to be enjoying the show a lot more than the rest of them. She got to her feet and left the room. Amy, took advantage of her momentary absence and turned to River and the Doctor. Apparently, they were more interesting than the dancing show after all.

“Okay, okay, seriously now, joke’s over, who are you?“ She glared at the Doctor, trying to work her out. Something was going on, she knew it, River would hold on to just anyone like that, even when she was getting increasingly tipsy.

“I uh…“ The Doctor blushed and looked to River for help who just took a gulp of her wine.

“Oh look Amy, another 10!“ River pointed to the telly. “I’ll say, this drinking game is dangerous.“

“Here we go.“ Mels returned with the pizza forcing Amy to stop her interrogation. As far as Amy knew at this point, Mels had no knowledge of her travels with the Doctor - apart from what she had told her during her childhood - and who River even was. Mels passed Amy one of the boxes and opened the other, holding a piece out to the Doctor. “Try this one.“

“Yay pizza.“ The Doctor leaned forward in excitement but River was quick to take the box off Mels.

“Yeah, intercepting that…“ She popped the box behind herself onto a shelf. “Poisoned.“ She mouthed to the Doctor. She knew herself well enough. The Doctor’s face fell in disappointed.

“Hm.“ Mels pursed her lips and sat down again.

“Okay, here we go, perfect 40!“ Amy exclaimed taking a huge bite of her pizza, she hadn’t even noticed the exchange between the others.

“Stop drinking so much, we need to keep an eye on her.“ The Doctor whispered to River who was downing her glass alongside Amy.

“I need this to cope with the situation.“ River smirked to her and pulled her closer.

“Also makes you more handsy.“ The Doctor gave a little, undignified squeak when River gave her arse a squeeze.

“You don’t usually complain about that.“ River hummed in a sultry voice as she leaned closer.

“River, how’s that boyfriend of yours?“ Amy exclaimed elbowing her daughter. She knew her relationship with the Doctor was rather complicated but she was sure he would not be best pleased to witness this. So she got offended on his behalf.

“Oh you know, he’s about…“ River gave a dismissive wave.

“You have a boyfriend, River?“ Mels pipped up from the other side.

“Yeah, he’s a Doctor.“ River retorted hoping to make her see that she really should stop trying to kill her future wife.

“Isn’t she a Doctor, too? Do you have a type?“ Mels smirked pointing towards the Doctor who went very pale.

“You’re a doctor?“ Amy looked back to the Doctor who could already see the whole thing crashing down around them.

“Doctor of archeology, we met at uni!“ She exclaimed quickly.

“Oh right.“ Amy nodded, that made sense.

“You’re an archeologist?“ Mels looked to River thoroughly confused.

“Got a problem with that?“ River shot back.

“I don’t know, do I? Just wondering what went wrong in between.“ Mels shook her head to herself.

“More wine?“ Amy suggested feeling tensions rising. She had no idea what was going on but this was not how she had envisaged girls night to go. She jumped to her feet to get more wine from the kitchen.

When Amy came back, she found the lounge in disarray. The sofa had been knocked over. The pizza had gone everywhere. The telly was broken, sizzling in the corner and Mels and River were fighting on the floor.

“Stop it right now!“ The Doctor called, stumbling over her own feet a little as the alcohol was starting to effect her.

“Okay, what the HELL is going on here?!!“ Amy barked and River jumped to her feet, letting Mels up as well. “WELL??!“ Amy scolded her daughter.

“This might be a little bit complicated to explain.“ River grimaced.

“Try me.“ Amy put her hands on her hips. “This better not be a late toddler tantrum!“ She glared at her. “But what I really want to know is who youare.“ She turned and tabbed her finger at the Doctor who immediately went very pale.

“Come on Amy, you can stop pretending now.“ Mels huffed in annoyance.

“Pretending?“ Amy frowned.

“About the Doctor.“ Mels exclaimed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You used to tell me about him all the time, but you have mentioned he’s gonna turn into a pretty girl, you know I like blondes.“ She gestured to the Doctor.

“Oh my God, you actually are the Doctor?“ Amy looked back around, confirming the sneaking suspicion she had had for a while.

“Who else would wear braces like that…“ River shrugged, surprised it had taken her mother this long.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was you?“ Amy yelled at the Doctor who wanted to take cover behind the sofa but was too slow. She punched her arm. “You idiot!“

“Ouch! It wasn’t my idea to come here looking like this…“ The Doctor exclaimed rubbing her arm.

“Okay, yes, enough talking, can we just get to the point.“ Mels interrupted by pulling a large kitchen knife at the Doctor.

“Mels, what are you doing?“ Amy exclaimed staring at the knife in her hand.

“Doing what she’s been trained to do, try and kill the Doctor…“ River explained stepping protectively in front of her wife.

“Wait…“ Amy’s head was spinning.

“My own bespoke psychopath.“ The Doctor sighed. This was just too much, this was going terribly, terribly wrong.

“It’s just a phase, you’ll grow out of it.“ River couldn’t help but point out.

“I am not following.“ Amy shook her head.

“Come on mum, everyone has got there except you.“ Mels sighed.

“Hang on, you’re not…“ Amy’s head whipped back around to Mels.

“Penny in the air…“ Mels grinned.

“You’re Mels, my childhood friend.“ Amy exclaimed.

“Short for…“ River prompted.

“Melody.“ Amy answered. “Yeah, I named you after her.“ She looked from River to Mels and back again.

“You named your daughter after your daughter… I feel like we’ve done this before.“ The Doctor said half heartedly.

“Maybe have a drink so you don’t freak out… and so the timeline doesn’t change too much, we arrived a bit early…“ River pointed to the wine glass in her mother’s hand who promptly took a big gulp. This was evening was getting worse by the second.

“The timeline is about to change alright.“ Mels smirked dangerously and lunged forward with the knife. River met her half-way and grabbed her arm. She tripped her up and knocked her to the floor. The knife flung out of her hand and slid away as River twisted her arm onto her back.

“I’m lifetimes ahead of you, dear.“ She smirked as she held her down.

“So you are both from my very distant future, just popped in for a visit. Mels is actually River but young and my daughter but she’s trying to kill the Doctor because that’s what the Silence trained her to do.“ Amy started rambling. “But the Doctor is a hot blonde now, who, apparently, my verybisexual daughter is shagging, again, or rather still? But I’m not supposed to know any of that cause it’s all already happened for you and the timeline would be fucked if I found out so you were all pretending like nothing was going on and we got drunk because…“

“Aaaaand I think that’s enough of that.“ The Doctor pressed her fingertips to Amy’s face and she collapsed to the floor unconscious.

“Mind wipe? Probably for the best.“ River nodded.

“She’ll have one hell of a hangover anyway.“ The Doctor shrugged and lifted her up and onto the sofa even though it was still at an odd angle.

“And I suppose I’m just gonna forget about this, am I?“ Mels struggled against River’s grip.

“Yes, won’t remember a thing once we’re out of here. And don’t worry, you will never kill the Doctor, you’ll get close but you will save him because you’ll fall in love with him, so you have that to look forward to.“ River huffed as she let go of her.

“Well, I have that to look forward to.“ Mels couldn’t help but smirk as she looked the Doctor up and down with very blatant admiration.

“When you’re a bit older.“ River was quick to retort. “I’m taking her home tonight.“ She gave the Doctor her best cheshire cat smile, making her blush deeply.

“Time to get back to the TARDIS…“ The Doctor said, trying not to sound too eager.

#river x thirteen #thirteen/river #space wives #doctor who #river song #thirteen #thirteenth doctor #Mels #melody pond #amy pond #fanfiction #humour #comedy #fluff #femslash #yowzah #the ponds

[koolkat9]

First Valentine’s Day

Paring: GerEng, implied PruIta

Rating: Teen (Just to be safe)

Word Count: 1949 

Summary: Germany and England are celebrating their first Valentine's day together. Germany who has little experience in the romance department and the haunting memory of their first date littered with mishaps is nervous, but vows to give his lover the best Valentine's Day he can.

---

"Germany you need to stop," Italy said, his usually cheery tone was replaced by one of seriousness. Germany had been pacing back and forth for the past fifteen minutes and the sight was making Italy's neck hurt. "I know it's your first Valentine's day, but you have nothing to worry about."

"What about our first-"

"That was only once. And still, he loved you regardless."

"Ja but...b-but..."

He grabbed his friend's forearms with a strength Germany never saw before. "No buts. Take a deep breath. In...Out...good."

Despite Italy's best attempt, Germany's stress was way past the point of deep breathing. He tried to smile at his friend, but even he could tell it was strained. For a week now he had been thinking of all kinds of plans for England's and his first Valentine's day together. Sure they had spent it as single friends over the past decade, but now they were lovers and that changed everything. England deserved only the best, and Germany had little to no experience with romance. While Germany began pacing again, Italy just rolled his eyes and headed to the living room to phone one of the best restaurants in Berlin and get the two love birds a reservation.

When he returned to Germany, said nation was still pacing around the room, mumbling to himself. "Dios Mio. You can relax a bit. I set up your dinner plans.

Germany halted his pacing. "Really.”

"Si, si. For six. Now come on, you still need to get him a gift."

Germany opened his mouth to protest, but he couldn't really argue. Also, one important thing was out of the way, which made him feel lighter. Before he could say anything, the beaming Italian was pulling him out the door.

---

"So you have the reservation?" Italy asked as the two sat in the car just outside of a glitzy restaurant. The only light was that from the street lamps and the restaurant itself.

"Ja...Ludwig for two at six."

"Perfect! And the gift?"

"Yes." Germany looked down at the nicely wrapped box he held in his hand.

They had spent the whole afternoon looking for something and regardless of how many little trinkets they found, none of them were fitting enough (at least according to Germany). Eventually, they came across a store that sold all sorts of glass items. He hadn't thought much of it at first, but he was desperate. He definitely hadn't expected to find a small glass figure of a bunny with eyes as green as England's and would walk away with such a gift. It seemed perfect at the time, but now he was starting to doubt that England would like it.

Italy gave him a slight pout as if he knew what Germany was thinking. "Don't start that," he warned, "just get in there and show him how much he means to you!" Germany swallowed hard. He appreciated his friend's advice and support, but no words were able to calm his beating heart or racing mind.

A knock on the window took Germany out of his thoughts as he came face to face with England. His emerald eyes sparkled under the lights and there was a small and endearing smile on his lips. Germany always found his smile beautiful and the image in front of him made him a bit calmer.

"Good evening love," he greeted, placing a kiss on Germany's cheek.

"Guten Abend." They stood awkwardly for a few moments, looking over each other shyly. England wore a nice a-line suit in dark green that complemented his eyes perfectly and his hair was more kept than usual. "Y-You look lovely," Germany eventually spoke.

The Brit's cheeks went pink at the compliment. "Thank you...so do you." He took the German's hand and began guiding him towards the entrance. "You know, you didn't have to go out like this."

"I-I know...I...I just...you deserve it."

"Oh...w-well.." for once England was at a loss for words, "l-l-let's just head in."

---

"What do you mean the reservation was for five?" Germany took in a deep breath, trying not to raise his voice at the hostess. That proved difficult however as she told them that their table had been given to another couple due to their "tardiness."

He was about to lose it until he felt a light tug on his arm. "Come on Ludwig...it's fine." England muttered. He began pulling Germany towards the door, despite his protests.

"B-But..."

"We don't need their fancy, overpriced meal," he said a bit louder this time to make sure he was heard by the staff.

"Arthur!"

"Just come on."

England didn't stop pulling until they were back outside and even then he didn't let go of Germany's arm. The cool night air against Germany's skin and a deep breath managed to cool him down and let go of his frustration. With a clear mind, he began thinking of what to do next. Italy was the one to drop him off so he didn't have a car and England flew here so he didn't have one either. He looked up and down the street trying to think of restaurants nearby that wouldn't be busy.

"I saw a bar on my way here and it didn't seem too busy, maybe we should try there," England stated, leaning into his boyfriend.

"We might as well check. I don't have any other ideas."

---

At least there was some luck on their side. The bar England had mentioned was practically empty and they got a table right in the front window. Their suits were a bit much for the venue, but they distracted themselves with conversation and their meals. Despite how awkward and frustrating the night started, everything fell into place once they were seated and catching up with each other.

As they ate and England went on about the disastrous meeting with the Commonwealth, Germany noticed that some crumbs had made their way across the Englishman's cheek. "Y-You got some..." he gestured to his own cheek. England lifted his napkin to the side of his face, just missing the spot. He tried a few more times before Germany had had enough and reached over with his napkin to wipe them away. The Brits cheeks went warm at the contact, but a small smile graced his lips as well. Germany was not so lucky however as his whole face and even his neck went bright red and his heart leapt into his throat.

"Thank you...now how has your week been?"

"W-Well..." Germany debated whether he wanted to admit he had been worrying and panicking over today, but considering how good things were going, he figured that it was best left forgotten. "Pretty good. Nothing too special though other than helping Feliciano pick out a gift Gil."

"I see. Tonight is at least eventful."

Germany gave a small chuckle, "I suppose. But anything with you is a highlight in my week."

"I-Is that so?" England's cheeks were flushed again as he reached for what to say next, "God you are too much sometimes...but I feel the same way."

     After finishing their meal, England suggested exchanging gifts. Due to Germany's nerves, England offered to go first, handing him a heart-shaped box with a lovely white ribbon. He looked away as Germany took the box. "I-I got Emma to help me get the chocolates. I-I-I hope it's to your liking."

"I'm sure they'll be wonderful." He looked down at his own gift box starting to think that maybe he should have just gotten flowers or chocolates.

"Love?" England called after a few minutes of staring at the gift.

"Uh...sorry. Here you go. Fröhlichen Valentinstag."

Germany was unsure what exactly caused him to drop the box, but somehow, while handing it over to England, it ended up on the floor and a loud crack was heard. Things became deathly silent as the two stared wide-eyed at the fallen gift.

"Lud-" before England could finish, Germany was already up and heading to the door, his fist clenched and a deep frown on his face. England quickly paid, gathered the boxes, and rushed after him. He shouted out Germany's name as he wandered the streets looking for him.

Eventually, England caught sight of the slicked-back hair of Germany across the street much to his relief. It did not last for long as he tripped while coming down off the curb and landed on his foot wrong in an attempt to stop himself. At least he got Germany's attention who was at his side in no time. He propped the Brit up into a sitting position and ran his fingers over the small scrapes on the other's face.

"Arthur. Mein Gott. Th-This is...I'm so sorry."

"It's...ah...it's fine love. I'll be good as new in a couple of hours."

"No, it's not fine. None of this night has been fine. I...I'm ruining it all. I'm sor-" he couldn't finish his sentence as a pair of lips crashed into his. The kiss made his mind blank and he found himself eagerly kissing back.

As they pulled back and Germany's brain began working again he asked softly, "can you walk?"

"I don't think so."

"I'll carry you."

"W-Wait Ger-" Ignoring the Brit's sputtering, Germany hoisted the other man onto his back. All England could do was grab onto his partner's shoulders and bury his burning face into the crook of Germany's neck.

"I'm sorry for a mess of the night," Germany apologized again.

"No, no, no. You have nothing to apologize for. Lady luck just isn't on our side. Plus...I still had a good time at the bar."

"M-Me too. And I'll replace your gift. It's probably even more broken from that fall."

"Yeah...you don't have to though."

"I can't just not get you a gift for Valentine's day. And don't you start arguing with me over such matter." England sighed and buried his face once more into Germany's neck in compliance.

---

As soon as they returned to Germany's home, England was laid on the couch with his injured foot and Germany went into the kitchen for ice.

"Can I get you anything else?" Germany asked after he situated the ice just right. Before getting up, he pecked the other's ankle for good measure.

"Well, there is one thing." England gave him a smirk as he gestured for the German to come over to which Germany did with a cocked eyebrow. Before he could say anything, he was pulled down into a long, slow kiss. He hummed into it as he moved his lips to match England's. They eventually (and reluctantly) had to break for air, but England's hold on Germany kept them close.

"Anything else?" Germany murmured, placing a light kiss on England's ear.

"Can I see the gift you were going to get me?"

"Nein, you will have to wait for tomorrow."

"Bu-" In a similar way that England did this evening, Germany pressed his lips against England to silence him.

"I'll get the same thing, I just have to run to the store again tomorrow."

"Fine. Chocolate?"

"I'd love that."

And so, the two lovers shared the chocolates as they sat back and watched some cheesy romance film that was playing on the T.V. Eventually, England snuggled into Germany's side and closed his eyes, content to fall asleep right there. Usually, Germany would protest such actions, but it was Valentine's Day and England's sleeping face looked so soft and peaceful so he let it happen. Soon enough Germany also dozed off, leaning his head Against England's.  

Translations:

Guten Abend= Good evening

Fröhlichen Valentinstag= Happy Valentine's Day

#hetalia #hws #fanfiction #hetalia fanfiction #gereng #geruk #germany x england #aph germany #hws germany #aph england #hws england #hws gereng #hws geruk #fluff #awkwardness #terrible date #valentine's day #valentine's day 2021 #i know i'm late #I didn't know if I wanted to start posting some fanfics on here #since I have ao3 and wattpad too #I think I'll post some occasionally #implied pruita #hws italy #aph italy

[underthewingsofthblackeagle]

“Berliner Fernsehturm” * Foto: BernardoUPloud

After her marriage with Frank Randall has failed and Claire Beauchamp flees from her violent husband, she finds refuge in the house of the Fraser/Murray family in Berlin-Wilhelmshorst. But then tensions arise between Britain (which has since left the EU) and some EU member states. All holders of an English passport are required to leave EU territory within six weeks … and suddenly Claire’s fate looks more uncertain than ever.

This story was written for the #14DaysofOutlander event, hosted by @scotsmanandsassenach​

Chapter 10: 14 Men (6)

         "Now you will tell me that this is all publicly available information and I would agree with you. But I was not aware of it before. In a way, it woke me up. It took some time but when I had the opportunity to take over another week of night shifts I immediately agreed. In this time I developed a kind of plan. I was eager to find out if Frank's statement was true. At first I tried to track when he was going to conferences or work meetings. Not all of them, but several of them took him to England and Scotland. I can't prove it, but I had the impression that his travels became more frequent at times when 'the Scottish theme' was boiling over. Later, after 2015, and particularly after the Brexit, his travel intensified."

        To Jamie's surprise, Claire reached into her handbag, which she had hung on the back of her chair, and pulled out a piece of paper she handed over to Ferdinand Groide.

        "This is a list of all the trips my husband has taken since 2013, supposedly for reasons of his work as a historian."

        Groide skimmed the list, then put it aside.

        "Thank you very much. We will try to verify the data."

        "In the weeks that followed, I voluntarily took several weeks of night duty, because there was another advantage to this. I was at home while my husband was at university and could look through his records almost undisturbed."

        "Will you share the knowledge you have gained from this?"

        "Yes. But perhaps we could have some tea?" Claire replied as she looked at Jamie.

        "Certainly."

        He got up and left the room for a moment. Ferdinand Groide pressed the 'stop' button on the recorder. Then he got up and stretched a bit. Claire did the same.

"Tea” by Pexels

        "It's good to take a little break," Groide said as he slowly walked across the room and then paused at one of the windows. Claire, too, had stood up and stretched. Her steps led her to one of the dark oak bookcases. Slowly she let her eyes slide over the old leather-bound volumes. Then her gaze wandered over to Groide.         Ferdinand Groide was, at least as far as she could judge right now, an impressive person, even on the outside. Claire estimated him to be in his mid-60s and should be almost right. The 66 year old, tall man stood bolt upright in front of the window and had his arms crossed behind his back. He was moderately slim and not muscular, but his movements suggested that he had kept himself physically fit for his age. His black, short cut hair showed grey patches only at the temples. From the first moment they met, Claire had been attracted to the unusual shape of his face - you could almost call it rectangular. The way he appeared and behaved radiated calm and a kind of positive authority. He was wearing a black three-piece suit of virgin wool, whose jacket he had taken off before dinner. The timelessly elegant waistcoat that appeared beneath it, from whose small side pocket a golden watch chain protruded, and the discreet tie of dark Italian silk jacquard that matched the pocketkerchief of his jacket contrasted with the visitor's simple but flawless white shirt. Groide wore gold-framed, thick glasses that suggested myopia, a simple gold wedding ring on the right hand and a signet ring with a dark blue stone on the left hand. At dinner, Claire had also noticed the rectangular gold cufflinks bearing Groide's monogram. Everything about this man underscored Claire's impression that she was dealing with a person who not only knew exactly who he was, but also what he was doing.

        Moments later, the door opened and Jamie entered.

        "Tea will be here in just a few minutes. Would you like something else to drink?"

        Claire shook her head, Groide turned to Jamie and said:

        "Thank you. Not yet."

        A little later, a knock caught their attention.

        After Helene Ballin served tea and everyone had a cup, Groide asked:

        "Can we continue?"

        Claire nodded.

        Groide pressed the record button on the recorder, and Claire went on to talk:

        "My husband has always had a certain reluctance towards the new media. Of course we had a PC in the house that was connected to the Internet. But my husband used it very rarely. An yes, he also has a notebook. But it was never allowed to be connected to the Internet. Frank was always afraid of viruses or that hackers would steal his work. Before 2015, when he used the term 'work', I was thinking only of his research and the manuscripts of his books. But since that conversation in November 2015, I wondered if it could be about something else entirely. My husband always took his notebook with him to the university. But that was not a problem. Because Frank was obsessed with the thought that his notebook might get lost or - even worse - be stolen. So..."

        “.... were there disks, USB flash drives?" Groide asked interested.

        "No," Claire replied smiling, "papers.”

        The expression of highest astonishment was to be heard in the older man's voice.

         “Papers?”

        "Yes, papers. Frank believes that only what is written by hand will remain in ones memory. That's why everything he later typed into his notebook was first written down by hand."

        "And you had access to these handwritten documents?" asked Groide, who had now put his arms on the table and moved his whole body forward a little.

        "No," Claire replied smiling.

        "Too bad."

        An unmistakable disappointment spread over the face of the German.

        "Why?" Claire asked, adding: “One can get access."

        She laid her head to one side coquettishly, smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

        Once again, astonishment spread over Groide's face. Meanwhile, Jamie had to pull himself together because he almost laughed out loud. This woman was not only intelligent and strong, she also had a sense of humor. It was delicious to watch the rapidly changing emotions she was able to conjure upon Ferdinand Groide's face.

        "So you have ... gained ... access ..." he said, trying to remain objective.

        "Yes," Claire, in turn, noted objectively and took another sip from her teacup.

        "One Friday evening, it was in early February 2016, my husband came home from university in a rage. He said that he had had a dispute with the university management about his research funds. Later I was to learn that this dispute never existed. In fact, it was that one of his affairs had dumped him. But that's another story. As always, when he was angry or did not know how to handle a situation, he became aggressive and drank. And that's what happened that weekend. "

        Claire paused for a moment, looked at the table and took a deep breath.

        "Then on Sunday ... he started drinking whisky after lunch. He drank until he was laying snoring on the sofa. I used this opportunity to make a copy of the key to his filing cabinet and the key to his desk."

        "How did you know how to do that?" Jamie asked, looking at Claire in amazement.

        "As I said, I was raised and educated in a very ... nonconformist way. In port areas you can ... come into contact with ... people ... who ... help you with ... such questions ... I had used the pre-Christmas period to, well, let's say, make contacts there. Frank hates to go shopping and so I knew that on these days I did not have to expect that he wanted to accompany me. In a bar I inquired and the waitress behind the counter told me that she could make a contact for me for the payment of $100. I gave her $50 and the number of my department at the hospital as well as the dates on which I was on night shift. Two days later, a man calling himself 'Joe' called. We set up a meeting the night of the next day. He promised to give me two small boxes with a mass to make prints with. He asked me $600 for them. The next night, just before the night shift started, I met ‘Joe’ in the parking lot of the hospital. He gave me a brown bag, the kind you get in burger and fast-food restaurants. Inside were the little boxes. I gave him an envelope with the money in it. We agreed that if I got the prints, I would get back to Brenda at the bar. It took some time, but at the beginning of February, as I said, I finally had the opportunity to carry out my plan. When Frank fell asleep drunk on the sofa that Sunday afternoon, I took the bunch of keys from his jacket pocket. Then I locked myself in the bathroom and made the prints. When I returned to the living room, Frank was still asleep and it was easy to slip the bunch of keys back into his jacket pocket. I had taken the boxes with the prints, wrapped in a towel, into the bedroom. There I stashed them among other things in my doctor's bag.”

“Medical Bag” by Raimundo Pastor

        Claire held out her cup to Jamie, who poured tea for her again.

        "A few days later I went back to the bar, gave 'Brenda' another $50, the boxes and a note with the details of my next night's duty. It took about 10 days, then 'Joe' called during my night shift and announced that he would bring me the keys the next evening. And that's exactly what happened. He gave me the keys and I gave him another $600. The next day I went back to the bar and gave 'Brenda' another $100, as I had promised her. That was the end of the deal. In total I paid 1400 dollars. I thought, this investment will certainly pay off."

        Now Claire took a big sip from the cup that Jamie had left for her.

        "Investment?" Jamie asked.

        "Well, I was curious if Frank was really working for the Secret Service. To be honest, I still thought his story was just bragging and I didn't expect to find anything real to do with MI5. But I was hoping to get hold of evidence of his affairs. Evidence that, in the event of a divorce..."

        Claire paused for a moment.

        "Our marriage had gone downhill in the years leading up to it ... I had heard rumors, I had suspicions. "But my studies and work didn't give me time ..."

        "And then you put the keys to use?" asked Groide, who was very keen to make sure the conversation didn't drift into secondary topics.

        "Yes, in mid-March the opportunity arose. Frank flew to Edinburgh for a weekend, supposedly for a conference, and I took the opportunity to look around in his filing cabinet. I was frankly amazed at how well the keys worked. When I opened his cabinet I found, among other things, 14 files relating to the 'New Jacobite' leaders. They contained detailed information about each of these men. CVs, family trees, family relationships, friendship and business relationships, relationships abroad and more. In each of these files there was also a folder with pictures. I didn't recognize Jamie, I mean Mr. Fraser, in Boston. Because in the pictures in the file that Frank keeps on him, he has red hair and no beard..."

        Claire looked over at Jamie, whose hair and beard were black. He smiled and stroked his hair, slightly theatrical, and said:

        "There's nothing like a good make-up."

        All three of them smiled. Claire picked up her cup again and drank. Then she continued in a rather nonchalant tone:

        "It was very interesting to read about the lives of these men. "

        "After all these years, do you think you can still remember what you read in these files?" Groiede asked.

        "Anything?" she asked with a smile.

        "I can remember everything as if I had a photographic memory."

        Again she reached into her handbag. To the surprise of the two men, Claire's delicate hand produced three silver USB flash drives, which she slid over to Ferdinand Groide.

        "Each of these sticks contains one terabyte of data. I photographed all the pages of the files and placed them in folders with the appropriate names."

        The men looked at her first, then at each other in silence for a moment. Ferdinand Groide took the sticks and looked at them.

        "You ... said ... that ... you ... did this ... research ... in 2016, so seven years ago ... does that mean the files are up to 2016?"

        Her answer came quickly and came as no surprise to Ferdinand Groide or James Fraser:

        "No, I made the last additions three weeks ago. At that time Frank was - supposedly - at a meeting of historians in Canberra. So all the files should be almost up to date."

        Groide was struck dumb. Jamie had no recollection of ever seeing the old man like that. He had sunk slightly into himself and his face had lost the rosy colour that was so characteristic of him. He was obviously aware of the heavy responsibility that came with owning these sticks. Claire's information could change the fate of at least three or more nations. Groide knew it and Jamie knew it, too. But was Claire aware of it? Jamie could not answer this question.

        His friend took off his glasses with the angular golden rims and wiped his eyes. A long breath of air escaped the old man's lungs. Then he looked at Claire:

        "And you want to give me, I mean us, this information freely?"

        Claire nodded:

        "Yes."

        "May I ask you, are you doing this to get back at your husband?"

        "No, I mean yes, you may ask me. But the answer is no. I was thinking of using it against him in case of divorce. But having read so much about the history of Scotland, I think that something like this ... must never happen again. And..."

        "And?"

        Now ist was Claire who took a deep breath.

        "And having learned by chance this afternoon what a member of my husband's family had done to Mr. Fraser, I don't want anything like that to happen to anybody else."

        Groide looked over at Jamie, but kept silent.

        "All I ask is that you use the information you receive from me in a way that will prevent harm."

China-usb / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)

        Groide had his eyes on the tabletop and the USB sticks in front of him. Claire and Jamie heard the hands on the big wall clock that hung behind them ticking. A few moments passed, during which they all remained silent.

        "Mrs. Beauchamp, I want you to know that I have great respect for your decision. I'm just one small weel in a much larger machine. But I promise you that I will use all my influence to see that this information is handled as you wish. I also want you to know that we have no hostile feelings towards your country here. On the contrary. The Brexit and its consequences are much regretted in our country by most people. And not just for economic reasons. We miss the voice and political weight of your country. The oldest democracy in the modern Western world has always had an important, a great weight in this Union - also to establish a political balance. You know, there are member states that have not been familiar with the democratic system for so long. So far, things have gone reasonably well, but the loss of the British vote in the Europan Parliament could lead to dangerous imbalances ... And then we must not forget the human relations. I myself grew up many decades before the reunification of our country in a West German state where British troops were stationed. The British were neighbours for us. A friend of mine, who has since passed away, married an English woman, joined the Anglican Church and became military chaplain for these troops in his city. Friends of mine had planned to buy a small cottage in the southwest of England and spend their retirement there. Many of the cities where I lived had partnerships with English cities. We all very much regret the developments of the last ten years ... and we can only hope that a future generation may be able to reverse them. I hope you know that you are very welcome, not just because you are giving us this information or as a health professional, but as a person. And I hope you'll be able to settle in."

        Claire nodded. Then she reached out her hand and put it on the old man's right hand.

        "Thank you, Mr. Groide. I appreciate it."

        "You can call me Ferdinand, if you like."

        "Sure, Ferdinand, I'm Claire."

        "Thanks, Claire."

        "Well, after that eventful work meeting, let's have a nice drink, shall we? How about a whisky?"

        Jamie looked at her expectantly.

        Claire nodded.

        "I'd love one."

        Groide shook his head.

        "Jamie, you know I don't drink that stuff. I'll have a vodka, please."

        "You see Claire," Jamie said with an ironic undertone, "you might as well learn something about the Germans here. When it comes to alcohol, they have no taste."

        He handed her a glass of whisky.

        "He's right, Claire. And remember one more thing. We have absolutely no sense of humor either."

        The men began to giggle and Jamie had to stop for a moment before he handed the glass of vodka to Groide.

        "You may say what you usually say about my taste in alcohol, Jamie," Groide then said jokingly.

        Jamie looked at Claire with a grin.

        "He spent too much time with Russians, they spoiled his taste."

  Wodka / Vodka Rene1905

        "Sa sdarovje!" was all Groide would answer. Then he turned to Claire again:

        "You said earlier that you intend to ask for a divorce from your husband?"

        "Yes, I do. I hope it's also possible from here."

        Groide looked at her thoughtfully.

        "Do you object to Claire's request, Ferdinand?"

        "No, I understand the request very well. I'm just worried it might put MI5 on to you, Jamie."

        A mild shock drove Claire through and she nearly choked on the whisky she'd just taken.

#14DaysofOutlander #Outlander #Outlander Fan Fiction #From Boston to Berlin in 14 Hours #Boston #Berlin #Claire Beauchamp #jamie fraser #Ian Murray #Jenny Murray #Frank Randall #Germany #Modern AU

[the-mighty-jellybean]

Till The Final Bullet

Series Summary: “In a place where they won't let us feel, In a place where nothing seems real. I will hold you. In a world that’s moving too fast. In a world where nothing can last. I will hold you.”-Last Night of The World- Miss Saigon

From the age of twelve, Y/N Y/L/N, has been trained by Hydra, and used as an assailant for a number of years. She’s been taught not to feel, but when she’s put in a kill squad with the Winter Solider, their partnership is deadly, as their motivation becomes more than just keeping themselves alive.  

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Series Warning: Angst, Fluff, Strong Language, Eventual Smut, Dark!Bucky (I think??) (18+ Only)

Part One// Part Two// Part Three// Part Four// Part Five Part Six// Part Seven// Part Eight// Part Nine//

Part Ten:Always You

Chapter Warnings: Violence

Word Count: 3.5k

Steve turned the corner into the parking lot of the Berlin Airport, the car by now, on it’s last legs, coughed and spluttered. Waiting in the lot, was a white van; your heart pounding a little, as memories from a few nights previous, flooded your mind. You looked down, when you felt James stroking his thumb over the back of your hand. Meeting his eyes, he mustered up the most reassuring smile he could.

Steve and Sam got out first, as they did, another man and a woman, stepped out of the white van. You and James clambered out, James holding the seat back, before you stood next to him. You both stayed behind the car, for some kind of protection.

“Cap.” The man acknowledged Steve, walking towards him.

“You know I wouldn’t have called if I had any other choice.” Steve said, shaking the man’s hand.

“Hey man, you’re doing me a favour.” The man reassures Steve, “Besides, I owe a debt.”

“Thanks for having my back.” Steve nodded to the woman, who walked towards the tow of them.

“It was time to get off my ass.” The woman shrugged.

“How about our other recruit?” Steve looked towards the back of the van.

“He’s rarin’ to go,” the man turned away from Steve, reaching for the handle of the sliding door, pulling it back and opening up the back, “might need to put a little coffee in him, but he should be good.”

Once the door clicked loudly into place, it revealed a previously sleeping man, who was abruptly awoken, by the sound of the door opening.

“What time zone is this?” the guy from the backseat asked, as he climbed out.

“Come on.” The man, who had opened the door, pushed the guy towards Steve. The guy looked completely dazed by Steve’s appearance, approaching him with an open mouth, and childlike eyes.

“Captain America!” The guy announced, shaking Steve’s hand.

“Mr Lang.” Steve nodded, his body language was tense, and he seemed uncomfortable with how vigorously Mr Lang, was shaking his hand.

“It’s an honour.” Lang stated, his hand still in Steve’s, “I’m shaking your hand too long.” He finally realises, quickly detaching himself, “wow, this is awesome.” He states, looking around the parking lot, “Captain America. I know you, too. You’re great!” he says to the woman.

“Jeez.” Lang grasped Steve’s shoulders, feeling around his muscles, you and James looked to each, doubt was circling your mind, “ah, look, I wanna say, I know you know a lot of super people, so thanks for thinking of me. Hey, man!” Lang points at Sam, who’s arms had been tightly folded over his chest, for the duration of this interaction.

“What’s up, Tic Tac?” Sam greeted.

“Uh, good to see you,” Lang said a little nervous, “Look what happened last time when I…”

“It was a great audition, but it’ll never happen again.” Sam interrupted, Lang looked slightly beaten down, but nodded.

“They tell you what we’re up against?” Steve interjected, before this awkward exchange could continue.  

“Something about some psycho-assassins?” Lang shrugged, and you looked to James once again, raising your eyebrows, James just shook his head, so you leant your elbows onto the roof of the car.

“We’re outside the law on this one. So,if you come with us, you’re a wanted man.” Steve announced all doom and gloom.

“Yeah, well, what else is new?” Lang responded a little darkly.

“We should get moving.” James suggested.

“We got a chopper lined up.” The man with the van, said.

“DAS IST EIN NOTFALL. ALLE PASSAGIERE MÜSSEN DEN FLUGHAFEN SOFORT EVAKUIEREN.” The sound of the speakers from inside the airport, flooded the car lot also.

“They’re evacuating the airport.” You translated, when you noticed some of the bemused faces.

“Stark.” Sam spoke, turning towards the other teammates.

“Suit up.” Steve instructed everyone.

You grabbed your combat gear from the trunk, James doing the same. You’d picked a few things up on your 17hr road trip here.

“Ready?” James asked you, shielding you from the view of the others, as you changed into your suit.

“Not really, you?” you looked at James, and he had a sad smile on his face, as he shook his head.

“No, but we’re gonna be okay. Whatever happens, we look out for each other.” James confirmed, once you had secured your final knife.

“What about Steve?” you whispered, nodding your head in the direction of the blonde supersoldier. James surprised you when he shook his head.

“If I have to choose between you or him, I will always pick you.” Your heart flutters at James words; to hear him say that he’d pick you, without a second thought, makes you fall in love with him, a little bit more.

~~~

“Wait here, I’ll approach first, then on my signal, initiate the plan.” Steve instructed you all.

You all took to your positions: you, James and Sam went to the airport, Wanda and Clint to another carpark complex.  Scott turned small, which freaked all of you out a little at first; especially Sam, who seemed to be slightly shifty.  The now miniscule man took his position on Steve’s shield.

All of you waited in your positions waiting for Steve to give the signal to advance.

Sam and James were on the other side of the airport, using Red-Wing to scout the hangers for your getaway aircraft. You were opposite them, facing the tarmac, that was slowly gaining a crowd. You turned briefly to check on James; Sam appeared to be shifting slightly uncomfortably, away from James.

“What’s your problem, birdy?” you sighed, fixing your knives.

“Nothing, just not overly keen on being around two highly unstable people.” He huffed, moving further away from James. You looked at James, and rolled your eyes, and then looked back to the tarmac, where Steve was talking to the metal man from Romania, and the another one who had fought with James when you were escaping. That one was Stark, the other one was called Rhodey, Steve had given you and James the rundown on who everyone was, before dispatching the team.

“You know Sam, there’s one thing you should probably never say to, two highly unstable people…” you mutter.

“And what’s that?” he sassed.

“That they’re highly unstable. It tends to hurt our feelings.” You shot back at Sam.

“Aww did I hurt your feelings, want me to say sorry?” Sam fake pouted at you, and you just narrowed your eyes.

“No what I would like, is you to be…” you trialled off when the black cat from Romania, flipped into the tarmac, he was Prince T’Challa, his father had been killed in the bombing by the doctor, that was why he was so angry with James, as he still believed it was him that was behind the explosion.

“Can you two just knock it off.” James spoke, looking between you two. You just sighed heavily once again, and looked back at the group of men, Sam looking down at his little screen, which was connected to Red-Wing’s camera.  

The group of men, had grown, but now it wasn’t just men, a one woman, the redhead, stood facing Steve. Natasha Romanoff.

Apparently, you and James had, had some dealing with her in the past, but you couldn’t recall. If you were honest, you and James had tried hard to repress your memories of HYDRA, some of them physically hurt, when you thought too hard about them.

Suddenly there was a flash of blue and red, as something summersaulted it’s way into view, landing on the roof of a abandoned truck. This one hadn’t been expected, you weren’t sure of a name for this one, but he took Steve’s shield, using some kind of plasm.

“We found it. The quinjets in hanger five. North runway” Sam confirmed to Steve through coms.

Steve lifted his arms into the air, and whatever had secured his wrists shut, was ripped off, by one of Clint’s arrows.

“Alright, Lang.” Steve signalled to the Antman. Suddenly the thing that was holding Steve’s shield was knocked over backwards. Lang passed Steve his shield back.

“We need to go.” You shouted, and both the men and yourself, jumped up and began sprinting towards the hangar.

Whilst you were running, the sound of a soft thud on the windows of the airport, had all three of you looking up towards the sky.

“What the hell is that?” James asked.

“Everyone’s got a gimmick now.” Sam mumbled, speeding his pace up.

There was a brief moment, when there was a sound of shattering glass, before Sam is knocked sideways, and goes tumbling to the floor. You dive behind a large notice board, taking cover, waiting for the right time to attack.

James and the foreign alien looking thing, engage fists. He stops one of James’ punches holding it in his grip.

“You have a metal arm, that is awesome.” A youthful voice, spoke from under the mask. James seemed slightly confused by this comment, and momentarily froze. You took this as an opportunity, with the boy distracted by James’ arm, you tackle him, throwing him upwards into the air, Sam catching him mid-flight, and dragging him with him. He wriggled free of Sam’s grip, and shot another weird plasma string from his wrists flinging himself through the air.

The boy swung from beam to beam, Sam weaving out of his way.

“Jay, throw this.” You kicked the board you had been hiding behind previously, knocking it over, and snapping it from its support system underneath. James used his metal arm, to grab hold of it, and flinging it towards the boy.

He ducks just in time, you and James growling in frustration. James grabbed you by the waist, pulling you behind another pillar.

“Hey buddy, I think you lost this.” James leans out, but you pull him to the floor, just as the noticeboard comes flying back towards you.

A loud crash in front of you, has you looking back towards Sam, he was grounded, wobbling onto his feet. He didn’t have time to engage, with the boy, before he was stuck to the railing.

“Those wings, carbon-fibre?” The boy asked, once he had stopped on one of the walls.

“This stuff coming out of you?” Sam questioned, his face disgusted as he looked between his hands.

“I would explain the rigid flexibility ratio, which gotta say, that’s awesome.” The boy rambles, Sam growing increasingly bored.

���I don’t know if you’re been in a fight before, but there usually isn’t this much talking.” Sam spat.

“Alright sorry my bad.” He launched himself from the wall, but before his feet could engage into Sam, James leapt in front of Sam. James and Sam go crashing through the railings, landing hard on the floor below.

The boy shoots another white net, and it traps Sam and James to the floor.

“Look I’d love to keep this up, but I’ve only got one job here today and I got to impress Mr Stark, so I’m really sorry.” Before he can speak, you shoot your grapping hook around the boy’s wrist attaching it to Red-Wing, as he zoomed passed you, clearing being controlled by Sam.

The boy goes hurtling out the window screaming and yelling, as he is flung around, you go to where the two of them had smashed through the railing, looking over the side, you fold your arms, and jut your hip out.

“You couldn’t have done that earlier?” you chided Sam, jumping down to meet them.

“I hate you.” Sam huffed.

You began cutting James’ arm loose, the weird material strapping his arm to the floor, was like spider web. Cutting him loose, you toyed with the idea of not letting Sam free, as you twiddle your knife in your fingers, while you stood over him.

“Yo let me out.” He yelled, fighting harder against the webbing.

“Let him out, doll.” James told you, picking himself up from the floor, brushing himself off.

“Do I have to?” you sighed, giving James puppy dog eyes.

“Yes, now come on, Steve needs us.” You grumble to yourself at James’ words, but bend down and start cutting the web off of Sam.

Running through the airport, squinting slightly once you move through the doors, the sun shining in your eyes, blinding you shortly.

“Come on!” Steve waves at the three of you, sprinting you join him on the tarmac. You’re heading towards the other group, but halt when a beam of light appears in front of you, scorching the ground below.

“Captain Rogers.” A voice from the sky boomed down, you peek up at the bright sky to see a man hovering in the air. This must be the Vision, “I know you believe what you are doing is right, but for the collective good, you must surrender now.”

Emerging into a line, other side copy your stance, all of you squaring off.

“What do we do, Cap?” Sam whispered, down the line.

“We fight.”

Steve begins to stride towards them, everyone else following his lead. Steve picks up the pace, everyone else jogging behind him, before it turns into a full sprint.

Eventually you meet in a collision of noise.

You and James take on T’Challa. James gets kicked to the ground, so you take that as an opportunity to strike him in the chest, sending him flying across the lot. Claws digging into the concrete to slow him down.

Both of you re-engage, James back on his feet, moves to help you. Soon you are working together throwing punches and kicks in every direction, you pull your knife out, swinging it, in every direction.

T’Challa knocks it from your hand, it skids across the concrete, you watch it skim along the surface, but you should have been watching your opponent, as he strikes you in the temple. You back flip onto the ground, pushing yourself up and growling, James taking your place, and punches T’Challa to the ground, but he uses his arms to break his fall, levering himself up.

You look over to Clint and Natasha, who are fighting one another, you notice Clint is holding back whenever he moves to strike. You run over, and just before she can land a kick to his head, you tackle her to the ground, raining down a few punches. Pushing you off you both stand, she makes a run at you, but you catch the punch she tries to throw, using it as leeway, you swing her around and volt her into the air, sending her crashing into a nearby cargo hold.

You turn to Clint, who is panting and staring wide eyed at you.

“You were pulling your punches.” You shrug before running back to James and T’Challa.

“I didn’t kill your father.” James chocked out, when T’Challa had his grip around his throat.

“Then why did you run?” T’Challa rasped.

James doesn’t have time to answer, before the two are engaging in another one of one combat, rolling each other onto the floor. T’Challa kicks James into a van, leaving him slightly dazed. You see T’Challa flex his claws, and use this as your time to act, before he can plunge his sharpened metal into James’ chest, you grip hold of T’Challa’s hands.

Using your supersoldier strength, you pick T’Challa up, and throw him away, like he’s as light as a baseball, he crashes through one of the boarding tunnels.

Turning back to James, you crouch in front of him.

“You okay?” you caress his cheek, and he nods, still a little puffed.

“I’m good.” He takes the hand that you hold out to him, and you pull him up, before heading towards cover. It just so happens the place you use to cover is the same as Steve’s.

“We’ve got to go.” James says to Steve, “That guy is probably in Siberia by now.”

“We’ve got to draw out the flyers.” Steve said, following Rhodey and Stark with his gaze, “I’ll take Vision, you two get to the jet.”

“No, you get to the jet,” Sam’s voice breaks through of the coms, “the three of you. The rest of us aren’t getting out of here.”

“As much as I hate to admit it,” Clint’s voice jumps on the coms, “if we’re gonna win this one, some of us might have to lose it.”

“This isn’t the real fight, Steve.” Sam spurs on.

“Alright Sam, what’s the plan?” Steve asked, looking to you and James. You looked at each other, and you felt James squeeze your hand.

“We need a diversion, something big.” Sam told you.

“I got something kind of big, but I can’t hold it very long.” Scot tells you all, “On my signal, run like hell and if I tear myself in half, don’t come back for me.

You look at James, “he’s going to tear himself in half?” you look at Steve, who also has a face of disbelief.

“You sure about this Scot?” Steve asked through coms.

“I do it all the time…I mean once…in a lab…then I passed out.” You weren’t reassured by Scot’s plan.

However, you have no time to question it, soon Antman is no longer…well…Antman, he’s big man…very big man. Using his size, he easily plucks Rhodey out of the air, and throws him through the air, like a ragdoll.

“I guess that’s the signal.” Steve says, three of you, breaking into a sprint, heading straight for hangar five. You nearly make it, before one of the air-control towers, begins to collapse, it was heading towards blocking your way.

A red entity stretched across the bottom of it, you look over your shoulder to see Wanda holding the building together. For her sake, the three of you speed up.

Just before you reach it, Wanda’s control has gone, and the tower begins to crash down, you and the boys leap onto the floor, diving underneath it, just in time.

You stop once inside the hangar, as you come face to face, with Natasha.

“You’re not going to stop.” She says.

“You know I can’t.” Steve shakes his head.

“Move out of our way.” You yell, you step forward, shortening the gap between you and her.

“Don’t make me do this?” she says to you, holding her wrists up, but you scoff.

“Do what, I’m going to enjoy this.” You sprint towards her, she does the same, the two of you meeting in the middle, hurling your fists at each other. You land a punch, but so does she.

You catch the next one she tries, flipping her over your back, so she lands heavily on the floor, groaning. Once she laid on the floor, you were able to climb on top of her, but she rolls you, so she is on top. She tries to strike you in the face, but once again you hold her fist, watching her right in the eye, you slowly crush her fist in your grasp, the sound of bones grinding and cracking filling the air.

Natasha screams in displeasure and uses her head to knock you square in the forehead, it doesn’t have the desired effect that she wanted, instead it makes her a little dizzier, giving you time to flip your position. This time she is kneeling, and you have her in a tight headlock, she gasps and pulls at you. Using her wrists, she sends an electric shock up your arms, and it radiates around your skull, crying out, you let her go. Only to grab around her waist, and lift her over your head, so she goes sprawling onto the floor. Laying on her stomach, you grasp her hair, and slam her head into the concrete, knocking her clean out.

Breathing heavily, you look up to the proud smile of James and the look of deep disapproval from Steve. You look at Steve and shrug.

“What, you wanted the jet, I got you the jet.” You roll your eyes, but they snap back to normal mid-roll, when you noticed something black, moving amongst the rubble.

“Look out!” you shout, the men run towards you, glancing over their shoulder at the sight of T’Challa pulling his way through the debris, advancing towards you, “get to the jet!”

You throw your other knife at T’Challa, and he catches it mid-air, deciding that you aren’t going to try and fight this guy, you run after the two men. You jump into the jet, but almost slip from the hold, when a hand grabs your foot.

“Jay!” you yell, as you claw at the deck of the jet. James comes running over to you, kicking T’Challa in the face, and he lets go of your leg, James pulls you in, falling onto the floor in the process, pulling you into his lap, and holding you close.

The sound of the engines whirring into action, floods your body with relief, and you hold James tighter, as you climbed into the air.

A/N: Nearly finished Civil War; I’m debating whether to continue the series into Infinity War and Endgame, and instead, do the final chapter of Bucky and the Reader in Wakanda. That could leave me with some viable options, possibly a mini-pregnancy-series???? What do  you guys think?

Taglist:

@amanda-the-fangirl​ @winchester-wifey​ @lemonadygirl​ @lunagrangerweasley​ @omfgforthelordalmighty​ @hhxppyyy​ @furioustrashprofessorneck​ @sznri​ @mugscraps @colourforanamee​​ @grav3dollie-666 @purneetk​​ @buckystories-3​​​ @foxybisexual​​​ @sadbaby02 @sebastianstansqueen​​​

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky angst #darkbucky #dark bucky x reader #winter solider x y/n #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier fic #civil war #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #marvel movies #james bucky barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #james barnes x reader #reader insert

[stories-sometimes]

I’ve Made A Huge Mistake {9/?}

Peter Parker x Reader, Quentin Beck x Reader

Summary: Peter just wanted to enjoy his trip to Europe, maybe even confess his feelings to his best friends.But along came a mysterious new hero to ruin those plans. Peter and his class are aged up and in college.

Warnings: Violence in later chapters, manipulation, age gap, smut

Word Count: 1565

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Beck was fuming, he’d actually liked Peter, but he was too focused on his plan. Nothing was going to get in his way. He stormed back into the hotel room. She’d be heartbroken when she found out, he hadn’t anticipated that and now had to rewrite much of his meticulous plan. 

“Hey, what’s happened?” She asked as he slammed the door behind him. He froze, trying to think of a plausible excuse outside of ‘I just killed your best friend’.

“There’s another.” He lied.

“What?”

“There’s another elemental, in London”

“I thought the one in Prague was the final one, you said that was the last one.”

“It was the last one on my planet, it was the one that destroyed my home. I didn’t get a chance to see it.” Beck replied, fuelling all his current anger into this bullshit story. 

“We should call Peter, you’ll need his help.” He clenched his jaw at the mention of the younger man. “I can’t get through to him, but you should try.”

“We don’t need to call him, he’s going back to New York.”

“He’ll come back straight away.” She tried to reason.

“Just forget about him.” Beck snapped, grabbing her upper arm and pushing her against the wall. She gasped in shock. This pushed Beck out of his head, switching back into the persona he’d so carefully formed. “I’m sorry, I’m just stressed about another elemental.” He whispered, trailing his hands down from her arm to her waist. “I can’t lose you again.” Beck faked a sob. And just as he’d hoped, her sympathetic side came out, reaching her hand out to the top of his neck, soothingly stroking over the base of his scalp.

“Don’t worry, I understand. I’m not going anywhere.” He cupped her face.

“Promise me.” He pleaded convincingly. Part of him was being honest, as much as she was another part of his plan, but he was growing accustomed to having her around. He looked forward to seeing her, she brought a certain sense of comfort with her. Gently, Beck ran his finger along her bottom lip.

“I promise, relax.” She reassured him. Still, he looked worried. “I can help you relax.” She suggested.

“Oh really, how are you gonna do that?” Gently, Beck ran his thumb along her bottom lip, dragging it down. She took it in her mouth, sucking on it gently, maintaining eye contact with Beck. “That all you gonna do?” He teased, she playfully hit him in the chest in response.

“Give me a second.” She said before dropping to her knees, slowly unbuckling his belt, unzipping his jeans and dragging them down. His dick, already hard, slapped against his stomach. She darted her tongue, tracing it over his head. She took his dick in her mouth, slowly moving forward. Instantly, he weaved his hands into her hair, guiding her further down. He groaned as he heard her gag. When she pushed her hands on his thighs he let her off. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” She nodded, catching her breathe, “Sorry, I don’t really know what to do.”

“Hey, don’t apologise. You have done this before.”

“Kinda, he came as soon as I put my mouth on him, so I don’t really think it counts.”

“You want me to guide you through it?”

“Yes sir.” She looked up at him pleadingly, her face far too innocent for what she was about to do. Just how Beck liked it.

“Open your mouth,” She obeyed immediately, “Relax your throat, and let me do the work.” He pushed back into her mouth, letting out a loud moan. “That’s good baby.” He felt her moan around him at the praise. “You like that, hearing me tell you how good you feel. How fucking gorgeous you look wrapped around my cock.” He relished in the control he had over her. Quickly, he began to thrust harder, getting deeper. He kept his hands on her head, moving her as he wished. The pressure built up as he made her gag again, watching the tears threaten to spill from her eyes. “Breathe through your nose, relax baby.” Soon, he came with a groan, holding her in place. 

“How was that?” She said once she had swallowed, her voice slightly hoarse.

“Jesus Christ, you so fucking amazing.” He helped her back up to her feet. “You look so beautiful right now.” He took in her now dishevelled appearance, messy hair, swollen lips and a tear in her eye, all because of him. He could definitely get used to it.

“Did it help sir?” She asked.

“Absolutely, and as much as I’d love to carry this on, we need to get to London.”

A few hours later they pulled up to a hotel in London. Their bags were taken up to the room.

“What’s wrong?” Beck asked when he heard her groan.

“Nothing, it’s just none of my texts are going through to any of my friends.” She complained.

“It’s probably just no signal in a new country."

“You go unpack,” He instructed, “I need to scope out the area for when the elemental attacks. I’ll be back in a couple hours.”

“Good luck.” She replied, leaning up to give him a quick kiss. The room was just as upscale as the others, Beck was clearly getting used to the high-life, booking another five-star hotel. Everything went smoothly as she pulled out their possessions, moving them to wardrobes and draws. That was until she picked up his suit. Curiosity got the better of her and she inspected it, admiring it up close. She traced her finger over the scale-like design of the sleeve. When she got to the wrist, she felt a metal object under the fabric. She flipped the sleeve inside out to get a closer look. There was a thin piece of technology, sending a flash of recognition through her brain. She examined it further, praying it wasn’t what she thought it was. An overwhelming sick feeling rose through her. 

“I’ve made a huge mistake.”

She rushed to her phone, calling Peter urgently. When it went to voicemail she tried MJ, then Ned, then anyone who might have any contact with Peter. No call went through. She ran out of the hotel room, down to the payphones in the lobby. Once again she called Peter, who once again, didn’t pick up. So she tried MJ again.

“Hello.” She heard MJ, the other girl’s voice soothing her panic slightly.

“MJ, are you with Peter?”

“Oh god, are you okay? Please tell me you’re safe.”

“I need to talk to Peter.” She repeated.

“He went to Berlin, he went to find you. Look, I know Peter is Spiderman, and Beck’s lying, I need to know if you are safe.”

“I don’t know, he’s out. But I found this illusion tech in his suit.”

“Yeah, he’s been using that to create the elementals, and drones to destroy the cities.” MJ explained.

“I think he used to work for Stark Industries.”

“What?”

“I’ve seen this tech before, I’ve used it. I’d tag along with Peter to Tony’s lab a few times, and there was one time I was running tests on how a prosthetic I designed would work. Tony let me use the illusion tech. And I remember him ranting about the unstable guy who made it, wasted potential, all that. It was the exact same technology in the suit, being used by some probably unstable liar.

“Holy shit.”

“I don’t know what to do.” She said between heavy, panicked breaths.

“Okay, okay,” MJ tried to think of a plan as rapidly as she could, “You gotta stay calm, pretend everything’s fine. Don’t let Beck know that you know. Don’t make him angry until you’re safe and away from him.”

“I can’t get ahold of Peter.”

“Me neither. But I’ll, I’ll tell Ned, he’ll know who to call. Breath, be careful.”

“Thank you.” She whispered.

“We’re gonna get help.” As soon as the call was over, she went back up to the hotel room, putting the suit away to seem as though she’d never touched it. She took deep breaths, trying to calm herself back down. When Beck returned she’d managed to relax herself. While her heart was racing 100 miles a minute, and her mind felt as though it was about to implode, she managed to remain calm on the outside.

“Hey, how’d it go?” She asked, accepting him when he leaned down to kiss her.

“As well as it could’ve gone. I know London more, so I should be able to fight off the elemental better.” She watched him lie so effortlessly, angry at herself for falling for it. “But I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“So what do you wanna do?”

“I just wanna spend time with my girl.” He gently caressed her face. She leaned into his touch, just like she would’ve done before, and smiled shyly, just like she would’ve done before. His hand moved to cup her face fully. “So the real question is what do you wanna do?”

“We can just cuddle, watch a film.” She suggested. Beck nodded, leading her to the plush bed. Once they got comfortable, Beck moved her legs over his, draping his arm over her, pulling her into him. She tried to relax into his touch, act as though everything was completely fine. And it scared the absolute shit out of her.

Taglist Open:

@cool-ontherun-world 

@eleventhdoctorsangel 

@chubby-tink

@eridanuswave

@squishychar1ie

@sincerely-cronch

@charmed-asylum

@lukesbabylon

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #peter parker x original character #quentin beck #quentin beck x you #quentin beck smut #quentin beck x reader #quentin beck imagine #marvel #ive made a huge mistake #spiderman #spiderman far from home #mysterio x reader #mysterio imagine #mysterio smut

[stoicanalyst]

The Darkest Philosopher in History - Arthur Schopenhauer

Being one of the first philosophers to ever 

really question the value of existence,  

to systematically combine eastern 

and western modes of thinking,  

and to introduce the arts as a serious 

philosophical focus, Arthur Schopenhauer  

is perhaps one of the darkest and most 

comprehensive philosophers in western history. 

Schopenhauer was born in 1788 in what is 

now Gdansk, Poland, but spent the majority  

of his childhood in Hamburg, Germany after 

his family moved there when he was five.  

He was born to a wealthy family, his father 

being a highly successful international merchant.  

As a result of this, young Schopenhauer would 

be expected to follow in his father’s footsteps.  

However, from an early age, he had no interest 

in business, and instead, found himself compelled  

towards academics. And after going on a trip 

around Europe with his parents to prepare him  

for his merchant career, the greater exposure 

he would receive to the pervasive suffering  

and poverty of the world would cause him to 

become all the more interested in pursuing  

the path of scholarship and intellectually 

examining, down to its very core, how the  

world worked and why—or perhaps more accurately, 

how and why it appeared to work so negatively. 

After eventually going against his family’s 

readymade path of international business,  

Schopenhauer would attend the University of 

Göttingen in 1809, where, in his third semester,  

he would become more introduced and 

focused on philosophy. The following year,  

he would transfer to the University of Berlin 

to study under a better philosophy program led  

by distinguished philosophy lecturers of the 

time.

However, Schopenhauer would soon find  

academic philosophy to be unnecessarily obscure, 

detached from real concerns of life, and often  

tethered to theological agendas; all of which, 

he despised. Eventually, he left the academic,  

intellectual circuit, and spent the following 

decade philosophizing and writing on his own. 

By age thirty, Schopenhauer had published 

the two works that would go on to define  

his entire career, contain his complete, 

unified philosophical system from which  

he would never deviate, and eventually influence 

the entire course of western thinking with.  

The first groundwork of his philosophy 

was established in his dissertation,  

On the Fourfold Root of the Principle 

of Sufficient Reason, published in 1813,  

and his entire unified philosophical system, 

including his metaphysics, epistemology, ethics,  

aesthetics, value judgments, and so forth, 

was laid out in his subsequent masterwork,  

The World as Will and Representation, published 

in 1819. Despite these impressive works going on  

to hold major stake in western philosophy, 

influencing some of the greatest thinkers  

and schools of thought thereafter, during 

this time, they would go mostly unnoticed. 

Over the decades following his early 

work, throughout his thirties and forties,  

Schopenhauer would spend his time working to be a 

lecturer at university, as well as a translator of  

French to English prose, while continuing to write 

on-and-off along the side. He found very little  

success in all of it. His lectures were unpopular, 

his translations received very little interest,  

and his philosophical work remained mostly 

overlooked. Only by around his fifties,  

did Schopenhauer finally start to receive 

any notable recognition, at all.

And only  

after publishing a book of essays and aphorisms 

in 1851, would he achieve the status of fame,  

which he would remain in for the rest of his life 

until he died in 1860 at the age of seventy-two. 

In terms of Schopenhauer’s philosophical system 

established within his work, it is relevant to  

note that it leaned heavily on the work of his 

predecessor, Immanuel Kant. In Schopenhauer’s  

mind, he was completing Kant’s system of 

transcendental idealism. Building off his  

interpretation of Kant, Schopenhauer essentially 

suggested that the world as we know and experience  

it, is exclusively a representation created by our 

mind through our senses and forms of cognition.  

Consequently, we cannot access the true 

nature of external objects outside our mental,  

phenomenological experience of them. Deviating 

from Kant, however, Schopenhauer would go onto to  

argue that not only can we not know nor access the 

varying objects of the world as they really are  

outside of our conscious experience, but 

there is, in fact, no plurality of objects  

beyond our experience, at all. Rather, beyond 

our experience is, according to Schopenhauer,  

a singular, unified oneness of reality—a sort 

of essence or force that drives existence  

that is beyond time, beyond space, and beyond all 

objectivation. Schopenhauer would go on to explore  

and define this force by referencing and probing 

into the experience of living within the body,  

suggesting that this is the only thing 

in the world that we have access to  

that is not solely a mental representation of 

an object but is also a firsthand, subjective  

experience from within it. From here, Schopenhauer 

would suggest that what is found from within,  

at the core of our being, is an unconscious, 

restless, striving force towards survival,  

nourishment, and reproduction. He would term this 

force the Will to live.

Essentially, this would  

lead him to the conclusion that reality is made 

up of two sides; one side being the plurality  

of things as they are represented to a conscious 

apparatus, and the other side being the singular,  

unified force of the Will—hence the name of his 

master work, The World as Will and Representation. 

It is worth noting that the term Will can 

perhaps be misleading in that it might seem  

to imply an intention or human-like conscious 

motivation, but the Will, for Schopenhauer,  

is a blind, unconscious striving with no goal 

or purpose other than to keep itself going  

for the sake of keeping itself going. All of the 

material world operates by and through this Will,  

moving, striving, consuming, and violently 

expressing itself in order to sustain itself. 

Schopenhauer’s work was largely a response to 

Kant and the western philosophical tradition,  

but his work also contains distinct notes of 

Hinduism and Buddhism. His conclusion of the  

nature of reality is strikingly similar to that of 

both. And his qualitative assessment of reality’s  

negative relationship with the conscious self 

mirrors ideas central to Buddhism. This made  

Schopenhauer one of the first philosophers to 

ever really combine eastern and western thinking  

in such a systematically comprehensive way.

Especially similar to Buddhism, Schopenhauer  

would top off his philosophical medley with a 

layer of dark, unwavering pessimism. “Unless  

suffering is the direct and immediate object of 

life, our existence must entirely fail of its aim.  

It is absurd to look upon the enormous amount 

of pain that abounds everywhere in the world,  

and originates in needs and necessities 

inseparable from life itself, as serving no  

purpose at all and the result of mere chance. Each 

separate misfortune, as it comes, seems, no doubt,  

to be something exceptional; but misfortune in 

general is the rule.” Schopenhauer wrote. As a  

qualitative assessment of the nature of reality, 

he would describe the Will to live as a sort of  

malevolent force that we, as individual selves, 

become victims of in its process of continuation,  

deceived by our own mind and body to go against 

our fundamental interests and yearnings in order  

to carry it out. Since the Will has no aim or 

purpose other than its perpetual continuation,  

then the will can never be satisfied. And 

since we are expressions of it, neither can we.  

Thus, we are driven to consume beings, things, 

ideas, goals, circumstances, and all the rest,  

constantly hoping we will feel a satisfaction or 

happiness as result, while constantly being left  

in the wake of each achievement unsatisfied. 

"Human life must be some kind of mistake.  

The truth of this will be sufficiently obvious if 

we only remember that man is a compound of needs  

and necessities hard to satisfy; and that even 

when they are satisfied, all he obtains is a state  

of painlessness, where nothing remains to him 

but abandonment to boredom.” Schopenhauer wrote. 

As the best possible ways of sort 

of escaping and dealing with this,  

Schopenhauer would put forth two primary methods: 

one, engaging in arts and philosophy, and two, the  

practicing of asceticism, traditionally being the 

deprivation of nearly all desire, self-indulgence,  

and everything past the bare minimum. In this 

later method, Schopenhauer felt that by denying  

the Will from being fed, so-to-speak, one would 

turn the Will against itself and overcome it.  

However, he also recognized the sheer 

difficulty of this for the majority of people  

and suggested the average person should 

simply make their best efforts towards  

letting go of ideals of happiness and pleasure, 

and rather, focus on the minimization of pain.  

Happiness in life, for Schopenhauer, is not 

a matter of joys and pleasures, but rather,  

the reduction and freedom from pain 

as much as possible. “The safest way  

of not being very miserable is not to 

expect to be very happy.” he wrote. 

Alternatively, engaging in arts and philosophy, 

in Schopenhauer’s mind, served as another, more  

accessible method. He felt that good art could 

provide a source of clarity into the nature and  

problems of being, without any of the illusion or 

drapery. And while engaging in this sort of art,  

one would have a transcendent-like experience 

that provides a relief and comfort from existence.  

As a result of this concept, 

Schopenhauer would end up being one  

of first thinkers to ever really introduce 

philosophical significance to the arts,  

and would eventually become known by 

many as the ‘artist’s philosopher.’ 

Of course, throughout his work in general, 

Schopenhauer makes large, often unprovable,  

and unknowable claims about the nature of reality 

and the value of existing within it. Some of which  

is validly constructed and worth considering, 

but some of which is likely not. Ultimately,  

any attempt to define and assess the side of 

reality beyond logic and reason through systematic  

logic and reason is perhaps paradoxical in way 

that is beyond repair. What precisely is the Will,  

where does it come from, where does it 

end, and how can we know or prove it?  

And in terms of Schopenhauer’s suggestion 

that one should turn against the Will  

through an ascetic process of self-denial, 

if all of life operates through the Will,  

to turn against it, would seem to merely be the 

Will turning against the Will for reasons that  

favor it. And there can be no turning against 

the Will if the Will is doing the turning.  

Alternatively, considering the view of Friedrich 

Nietzsche, a philosopher who notably followed in  

Schopenhauer’s footsteps, the endless cycle of 

desire and dissatisfaction caused by the Will  

is actually a good thing that we can use as fuel 

towards the process of self-overcoming and growth,  

which we can then obtain life’s meaning 

from. Of course, this is the more pleasant  

of the two interpretations, but it isn’t clear 

which is more apt and/or accurate, if either. 

Ultimately, Schopenhauer is another surprising, 

yet seemingly common story where a highly  

important thinker, artist, or writer, barely 

caught any recognition in their life, if at all,  

only to die and end up with their name in 

nearly every history book on the subject.  

One trait these stories do all 

seem to have in common, though,  

is a refusal to stop, a refusal to budge from 

pursuing and defending the world as one sees it.  

Schopenhauer never deviated from the 

philosophical system he created in his twenties  

and never stopped confidently working to build 

upon it and reinforce it throughout his life,  

despite the world seeming to suggest to 

him he should do otherwise. And yet, now,  

it is hugely significant to the world that he did 

exactly what he did. For some, his work might be  

bleak and disconcerting, but for others, his work, 

like all great works of dark, melancholic honesty,  

is comforting, relieving, and legitimizing. It 

reminds us that are not crazy, and our sadness  

and suffering are not unfounded, even when they 

may feel like it. We are merely put in a crazy,  

sad, violent reality with a mind and body 

that are often all in conspiracy against us.  

Because of this and many other reasons 

unmentioned, his work would go on to  

influence artists like Richard Wagner and Gustav 

Mahler; writers like Marcel Proust, Leo Tolstoy,  

and Samuel Beckett; and thinkers like Friedrich 

Nietzsche, Sigmund Freud, and Ludwig Wittgenstein,  

as well as many others, ultimately influencing 

the course of modern thinking, forever. 

Having been one of the first to properly 

and philosophically bring the value of life  

and the possibility of meaning into question, 

Schopenhauer helped locate the early budding  

problem of the growing agnostic world 

that philosophy would need to address.  

With humanity seemingly suspending 

further out into a void of meaning,  

his unyielding and fearless confrontation with 

the nature of existence, including all its  

horrors and miseries, revealed an opening of new 

possibilities towards finding answers from within.

#philosophy #arthur schopenhauer #SoundCloud