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chicksung · 3 years

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The Firsts With My Last || Park Jisung

Genre: fluff, lil bit of angst, best friends to lover au

Pairing: childhood best friend!jisung x reader

Word Count: 6.3k

Warning/s: small argument, food

Synopsis: a collection of firsts with Park Jisung

A/N: Aaaaaahhhhh!!! it’s finally here! I cannot express how happy and excited I am for this! I worked so so so hard on this and I hope that you enjoy it! Feedback is welcome! Thank you to the lovely Elle @joh--pping for making the header!

Networks: @nctnetwrite @nct-writers @kpopscape @neoturtles @neoswitchnet

Taglist: @moonbeamsung @lebrookestore @jaeminpeachy @joh--pping @kyuwoyo @nksideblog @ncvltrtchnlgy @vera-liscious @ncteaxhoe @neojaems @ethaeriyeol

First meeting

First grade, a time where your biggest worry was if you would be home in time to watch your favourite cartoon. That was also the age you met Park Jisung. Your teacher had handed out a simple colouring-in to keep the students entertained for the few minutes before the lunch bell rang. You had been peacefully drawing when one of your classmates, Chenle, had tried to grab the blue coloured pencil that was in your grasp. It was part of a pencil set your grandmother had given to you and you held it very dear to your heart, so the fact that one of troublemakers was trying to take it from you, made you severally upset. Despite the discouragements from his friends to leave you alone, you and Chenle continued your intense game of tug-o-war on the pencil until you heard a heart stopping snap. The pencil splintered down the middle, unable to take the pressure anymore. You could only eyeball it in shock, reality finally settling in that Chenle had broken your favourite pencil. The bell rang and you stared at Chenle, scooping up the two halves of the broken pencil into your chubby hands. You were the first one out of the classroom, tears streaming down your face as you grabbed your lunchbox and disappeared into the playground.

You hid behind a tree, attempting to summon your much needed magical abilities to somehow stick the two halves back together. No matter how hard you pressed them into each other, they wouldn’t bond together with an invisible force. At this realisation, you began to sob again, hiding your face into your knees, quiet wails escaping your lips. You continued to cry until you saw a pair of red and blue shoes come into your tear blurred vision from beneath your legs. You looked up and were met with a chubby cheeked child, a child you recognised as one of your classmates and one of Chenle’s friends who had tried to convince him to stop roughhousing with you.

“I’m sorry about your pencil. Chenle can be a bit of a butthead,” The boy gave you an awkward smile before shifting the wood chips and dirt around with the toe of his shoe. “Do you mind if I sit with you?” He asked politely, his eyes big and friendly. As much as you wanted to be alone and definitely did not want to be accompanied by someone who was on friendly terms with the culprit of the state your pencil was in, you couldn't find it in your heart to say no to his friendly gesture. You nodded sadly and he immediately occupied the space next to you. He looked at the broken pieces in your hand and a smile crept to his face.

“There is one good thing about your broken pencil,” He stated, making you snap your head towards him.

“What is there good about this? My favourite pencil is broken because of your dumb friend,” You didn’t mean to snap at him, but you were so overcome with emotions and anger for what had happened, it slipped out. The boy looked at you, a little shocked at the fact you had called his friend dumb, but at the same time, he had called him dumb on multiple occasions.

“Think about it! If you sharpen this side of this one,” He pointed to the more splintered of the two pieces, “you could have two blue pencils,” He said with such innocence and optimism that it was infectious. You looked at the half and smiled. You had never thought about it like that. You were too caught up in the fact that it was broken to focus on anything else.

“You’re right!” You squeaked, a small laugh erupting from you. You turned to the boy once again, an unanswered question lingering in your mind.

“What’s your name?”

The boy smiled again, but this time it wasn’t awkward. “Park Jisung. What’s yours?”

“Y/N.”

First Realisation of Feelings

The 7th grade school dance, where the room is cramped and hot, full of hormonal preteens to early teenagers. Not exactly the place Jisung expected to see you. You had often expressed your dislike for the majority of the grade and you never liked being in overcrowded places, the perfect word to describe the gymnasium that was decorated for the occasion. Yet here you were, standing in the corner, hands behind your back, looking down at your shoes and playing with the hem of your dress. Jisung quickly ditched the conversation he was having with Sungchan and Chenle and made a b-line towards you. You were glad he saw you. You didn’t want to be here, only here by force from both your friends and your parents, your parents saying that you should socialise more outside of school hours and your friends saying it would be fun. However, your friends had made a b-line to the boys they liked from the grade, leaving you to stand there awkwardly until you could no longer stand watching your friend drooling over quite arguably the biggest jerk in the grade. As for your parents’ word, the only thing you could think to tell them is ‘why socialise when I’m most comfortable around the clumsiest boy in the class?’

“Hi,” Jisung said, the same awkward smile on his lips.

“Hi,” You replied. You didn’t need to be a psychic to know that Jisung wasn’t exactly here on his own terms, most likely only here for Chenle (who you had since reconciled with after the incident in first grade)

“You told me you weren’t coming,” He pointed out, trying to get rid of the slight awkwardness in the air. Why was it so awkward? It wasn’t normally like this.

“I wasn’t until I was made to by my friends and my parents,” You explained, shooting a glance to your friends, who were practically at each of their respective male attention giver’s beck and call. Why were they your friends again? “Is it just me or is it getting hot in here?” You brought attention to the sudden rise in the temperature, fanning your neck as you looked around for a possible air source, more so, a possible way out. Jisung nodded. He didn’t feel hot, but the gymnasium was cramped, and there were a lot of warm bodies inside of it, so he didn’t blame you.

“Yeah, let’s go outside. The breeze is really nice out there.”

After checking that the coast was clear of any members of faculty that might force you and Jisung to go back inside the gym, you ran to the gardens, a place that was quite pretty. Right next to the school flowed a river, which connected to the parent pick up area, accessible by bridge. You and Jisung stood side by side, watching your reflections ripple with the current of the water. The moonlight danced prettily with the water, creating a type of reflection that Jisung had only ever seen in movies. The cool summer breeze brushed against his skin, diminishing the sweat on his forehead.

Then he looked at you.

Your hair was lifted off your shoulders by the wind, the moon casting a silvery shadow across your face, fitting neatly across your facial features like a glove, but his breaking point was when you looked at him. It was as if someone had taken all of the stars in the galaxy and placed them one by one in your eyes. You looked so...beautiful. His heart rate increased dramatically and he was sure there was an intense blush that spread from his cheeks to his ears. Did he always feel like this when he saw you? Surely not. His heart had never raced like this before, and he definitely had never felt so speechless. What could this all mean? Could he...like you? “Hello? Earth to Park Jisung?” Your voice cleared the clouds of doubt from his mind as he finally closed his gaping mouth. “Are you okay? Do I need to tell a teacher?” You asked, a slight furrow in your brow appearing out of concern.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Just spaced out for a second.” He looked away in embarrassment, his eyes drifting over his reflection. Oh God, he was blushing. “The view was pretty and I guess started daydreaming.”

“Were you daydreaming about someone?” You asked simply, before a smile broke across your face. “Were you daydreaming about me?” Jisung almost choked on his spit at your words.

“Was not!” Your laughter only picked up in volume, Jisung having to shush you and remind you that you were not supposed to leave the gym.

“I’m only teasing you, I know you wouldn’t daydream about people. You just like to think about video games and food.”

“Hey, I do not! What’s with the Jisung slander?” You laughed. Something about your laugh was addicting, like a song he had just discovered and was unable to stop the lyrics from playing in your head.

It’s been three weeks since the dance and you and Jisung were in the library, studying. Well, if you were to classify copying your science homework as homework because he had completely forgotten about it. You were currently working on your analysis for your Literature class, reading over the assessment outline to make sure you could get the best grade possible. You looked over and Jisung and he looked so relaxed. His round glasses perched comfortably on the bridge of his nose, his eyes scanning your answers before jotting them down onto his own page, his fingers wrapped firmly around his pen, and his lips pushed into a little pout as he concentrated. He looked so laid back, so relaxed despite the fact he had nearly had a heart attack when you told him that the homework was due by your next class, which didn’t give him enough time to do it at home. With your thoughts swimming through your head and so far into your daydream, you hadn’t noticed that his head had picked up and you were now staring (quite awkwardly) at each other.

“Is there something on my face?” Jisung asked, trying desperately to break the awkwardness between you two. You shook your head rapidly, assuring him that his appearance was fine and you had just spaced out. Well, you hadn’t completely lied. His appearance did look fine, and you had spaced out, you had just decided to leave out the reasoning as to why you had spaced out.

Your cheeks burned harshly, like you were sitting in direct sunlight at the beach without any sunscreen. Is this what a developing crush felt like? Surely not. There’s no way you could have a crush on your best friend. That was weird, according to your friends, but then again, these were the same friends that said that you and Jisung were perfect for each other, so you don’t think they are a very credible source.

Was this how crushes develop? Yes. Yes it was

First Confession

Sophomore year of high school. People are calming down from exam week, finally getting the recommended hours of sleep after the countless number of all nighters that were pulled to cram, drinking water instead of the copious amounts of caffeine. The autumn air was starting to set in and the leaves were starting to fall, catching the wind and creating a train for oranges and browns. You and Jisung were walking home from school, your head pounding after the amount of brain power wasted on several test packages that weighed too heavily on your overall grade in your opinion.

“How about we go get ice cream and go to the park? My treat to the both of us working so hard?” You suggested, turning to the equally emotionally drained best friend beside you. At the mention of a delicious sweet treat, his head perked up and he nodded.

“Yes! Anything to stop my head from hurting,” His lips formed the most relieved smile, your pulse increasing at the sight. In an attempt to calm your racing heartbeat, you watched the leaves, long fallen from the huge oak trees that towered over you, crunch underneath your feet, a little bit of stress releasing each time you stepped in them. Jisung seemed to pick up on this, his smile taking on a playfully mischievous role. He raced ahead of you and jumped, his feet landing firmly in a pile of leaves. The dead leaves flew up around him, creating a skirt of sorts around his waist. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing, a stupidly large smile shared between the two of you.

“Come on, let’s get this ice cream before the store closes. We’ll never get there if you keep acting like you’ve never seen leaves before,” You rolled your eyes, continuing down the path, your back now facing Jisung. He jogged to your side, bumping your hip with his when he did.

“You don’t know that.”

“We have literally been friends since we were 5, I think I would know,” Jisung cursed inwardly after taking a second to process what you had said.

“T-That’s not fair and I- hey! Hey! Wait up!”

Walking down a simple path in the park, the bumpy texture of the wafer cone in your hand, and the occasional playful cheers of children and dog passing by was simply relaxing. The simplicity of the noises of everyday life, the perfect natural remedy for an exam induced headache.

You and Jisung came across a beautiful area that overlooked the huge lake in the middle of the park, a popular skating attraction during the winter. There were a few ducks waddling around the water’s edge, a few gliding gracefully along the water and few attempting to ruin a couple’s picnic by stealing their sandwiches. As you sat down on the ground, the crisp breeze whipped lightly across your face, you were relaxed, almost completely forgetting about the exams you had taken only hours earlier.

Jisung was staring at you, he was sure of it. In fact, he’s pretty sure that the elderly couple sitting metres away from the both of you would see it. He followed your gaze when your eyes fell on the most adorable mother duck, being followed by her clumsy ducklings. You liked the one at the back the most, always the most clumsy. You turned to Jisung, a teasing smirk dripping from your lips.

“You see the one at the end?” You pointed to the duckling, whose little webbed foot had caught on a twig, sending it rolling onto its side. Jisung nodded. “That would be you as a duck. The overly clumsy baby of the family,” Jisung’s eyes widened in slight offense at your comment.

“What do you mean? I’m not clumsy!” He tried to defend himself, only gaining a snort from you.

“Right, and I’m the Queen of England,” You said sarcastically, looking back towards the ducks. Between the time you had turned away to tease Jisung and right now, another duck had come back in search of it’s sibling. The duckling looked curiously at the fallen duck, before turning its head and let out high pitched quacks to its mother and signalling her to come back. Jisung watched as the mother duck picked the duckling up by the scruff of the neck and put it back on its feet.

“And if you were a duck, that would be you. Always looking out for the clumsy one,” He commented, watching the family waddle off to a different area of the park. Taking another spoonful of his ice cream (you refused to let him get a cone. With how accident-prone he was, there was only fate for that poor ice cream cone, and it involved Jisung dropping ice cream down his crisp white shirt) before sighing.

“Ducks are cute like you too,” He thought out loud, forgetting that the you in question was sitting right next to him.

“Did you say something?” You asked.

“I-I said ducks are cute, and then I stopped talking!” Real smooth, Park.

“Right…” You said, knowing damn well that isn’t what he said, but you didn’t wish to press further. “My legs are asleep, let’s walk a little more.” You suggested, almost leaping from your spot on the ground. Jisung scrambled to stand up too, his ice cream almost slipping through his fingers.

You walked for what felt like miles, talking about everything under the sun. You hadn’t realised how far you had walked until you were facing the street, with the name of your street written in printed letters on the sign.

“Guess my legs knew it was getting late before I did. I should probably get home before my mom yells at me. See you at school tomorrow, right?” Before you could walk away, you felt a hand on your wrist. Jisung’s hand.

“Wait, I need to tell you something,” Jisung’s voice sounded desperate, like if he didn;t say this now, it would kill him.

“What? Did you leave your jacket at the park again?” You tried to joke, but Jisung’s eyes just pleaded with you.

“Please just listen,” Jisung said, his tone coming out a lot sterner than he had meant to. He exhaled deeply before placing both of his hands in yours, his head swimming with thoughts.

“I like you.” His eyes, his tone, the slight smile on his lips. They all were dripping with sincerity.

“What-”

“I like you. I don’t expect you to accept my feelings but I just really needed to get this off my chest because I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while and-”

“I like you too,” You interjected with a smile, squeezing Jisung’s hand.

“Y-You do?” He repeated your words in his head like a broken record, watching as you gave him a confident nod.

“Yes. Now, can I go home now?” Jisung flustered himself and nodded, letting go of your hand and waving as you disappeared down your street. His cheeks were glowing red, surely resembling a firefly. You liked him too? He felt like a giddy schoolboy, a smile plastered on his face. This was quite possibly the best day of his life.

First Date

“No, no. Absolutely not, I refuse,” Jisung screeched as you swung into an empty parking space in the car park of the ice skating rink. You giggled evilly to yourself.

“You said I get to pick the location of our date, and I choose the ice rink,” You reminded him smugly, giving him a sickly sweet smile. You sunk down in his seat, grumbling unheard profanities as he knew you were right. He had given you the power to choose where you two would have a date together, a power he was now regretting giving you.

“Lighten up, will you? One ice skating session isn’t going to kill you,” You rolled your eyes, making your way towards the entrance to the building.

“I seriously doubt it,” He grumbled, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

There weren’t many others on the rink, some small children with their parents, the odd couple or two, but it was quiet. Well, quiet customer wise.

“Don’t let go of me! I’m too young to die!” Jisung squeaked, your arm wrapped in a death grip from the boy.

“Jisung, you’re not gonna die, not on my watch,” You assured him, helping him up as his knees shook like a newborn giraffe. You were able to shake the grip he had on your arm and hold both of his hands before skating backwards very slowly. “You trust me, right?” “More than anything,” He affirmed. You smiled and tugged him along, giving him perfect momentum to stay on his two feet. You swung yourself around so you were now skating besides him, intertwining your fingers together like puzzle pieces. Gliding together, you felt like you were skating in the middle of a snowy escape, a winter wonderland. You felt as if you were skating with the Snow Kingdom’s prince (except if the Snow Prince didn’t know how to skate) and the snow was falling gently around you delicately.

This fantasy ended when your hand was jerked backwards. Your skates hit an oddly slipping part of the ice, causing you to slip over and fall promptly on the ground, finding yourself face to face with the culprit, your clumsy boyfriend.

“Heh, sorry,” He apologised, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. You couldn’t find it in yourself to feel any kind of unamused emotion towards the boy, only bursting into a fit of giggles.

“You’re too darn cute,” you admitted, knees knocking as you got back onto your feet. You extended your hand, offering it to Jisung as assistance to get him back on his feet.

“Do you wanna try again?” It was more of a suggestion than a question, but you still hesitated, afraid of him saying no.

“What are my chances of getting a concussion?” The boy joked, a bright and gummy smile breaking across his face. You stifled a laugh.

“Pretty high when you assess the situation,” You answered in an amused tone. Jisung suddenly pulled you closer and placed his hands on your cheeks. His slender fingers were freezing cold against the rosy tint of your cheeks, but you didn’t seem to mind all that much. You could see him having an inner battle with himself before grinning in victory. He leaned closer to you, placing a peck to the numbed tip of your nose. Your heart fluttered like it had been caught up in a whirlwind of butterfly wings, delicately carrying them to a higher level than before. You swore you were giving Jisung really obvious heart eyes, but from the way he was looking at you, the exchange must’ve been mutual.

Jisung finally pulled himself together, slow realisation sinking in of what he had just done. “S-Sorry,” he apologised softly, his fingers slipping away from your cheek. You caught it, bringing it down to the height of your shoulder and intertwining your fingers with his.

“Don’t be,” you said cooly, cautiously skating towards the exit to the rink. “I’m starving. Let’s go find lunch. You can pick this time,” you smiled cheerily at him. He snuck a glance to you as he untied the laces of his ice skates. There was something about your smile that was so enchanting, sort of subtle, and perfect, and real. He couldn’t help but wonder if you even knew how wonderful your smile could make someone feel. Especially a someone like Jisung, someone who would find elegance and serenity in the tiniest things you do. He cursed his heart for fluttering stupidly fast, not that it heeded his thoughts, only beating harder the more he stared at you.

“Let’s go,” You announced, extending your hand to him. He grabbed it without a second thought. This felt like home to him, with someone who meant the world to him.

First Kiss

“Jisung, this is crazy! My parents will find out about this!” You whisper-yelled at Jisung, reluctantly throwing on your coat and shoes. Jisung smiled like a fool, feeling like a modern day Romeo as he waited on your front porch. You threw the front door open, seeing your boyfriend, absolutely drenched from head to toe with rain. The rain had been falling heavily for half an hour, so you couldn’t help but wonder what inside his mind decided that he would walk to your neighbourhood in the pouring rain just to see you?

“Jisung, it’s two in the morning. Why are you here?” You interrogated once you shut the door.

“I wanted to see you. Is that such a crime?” He countered, a sly smile resting on his pretty lips. You scoffed, playfully pushing him away. Jisung took a few paces back, extending his long fingers to you.

“Huh?” You vocalised your confusion.

“Come dance with me,” He said, waiting patiently. You hesitated for a moment. You feared the fact that your parents would definitely ground you if they found out that you were escapading at ridiculous hours of the night just to be with a boy, but on the other hand, this was Jisung you were talking about. The night, or morning if you were to be technical, wasn’t getting any younger and nor were you. In that moment, you didn’t care if your parents found out about your late night adventures. You grabbed Jisung’s hand and smiled.

“Show me to the dance floor,” You announced confidently.

To the rest of the world, the two of you probably looked like idiots. Running and shoving each other in the rain, willingly. However to the both of you, you were the only two people in the world. The only light to remind that the world was still there were the dim streetlights, illuminating only within its reach before fading back into darkness.

You danced under the streetlamp, your very own spotlight. You risked the chances of a cold, for the feeling of freedom, to be two dumb kids, fooling around at forsaken hours of the night. You had a smile to your ears and your laughter rang out loudly throughout the slumbering neighbourhood. You squealed when he pulled you closer to him by your hips. Your hands instinctively rested on his shoulders, eyes focusing on him, the water droplets that fell from his soaking wet hair and the goofy smile on his lips.

The laughter that the two of you died down, both of you completely infatuated by the other. How pretty they looked with raindrops kissing their skin, how their eyes sparkled when the light hit them at this angle. Jisung bit the inside of his cheek in hesitation. What if he was reading the signs wrong? What if you didn’t want to? He cautiously leaned forward, and you followed suit. Your lips met briefly before Jisung pulled away, scanning your face for any sign of discomfort or disgust. Instead, he was met with your eyes sparkling brightly, a huge smile breaking across your face.

“You kissed me,” You said, slightly astonished at Jisung’s bravery.

“Yeah, I did,” He mumbled, trying to come to terms with the event that just played out in front of him.

“Do it again,” You egged.

“Excuse me?” His eyes blew wide at your comment.

“Kiss me again.”

To the rest of the world, the two of you probably looked like idiots. However to the both of you, you were the only two people in the world. The only two people in your world.

First Time Falling in Love

The stars twinkled brightly in the dark sky above, like silver glitter that had been thrown into the depths of space. You admired the stars, wishing you could fly up there for a second just to dance among them. It was your calming activity before bed, talking to the stars about your day, especially if it wasn’t particularly a good day. The best part about today however, was that you weren’t gazing up into space in your bedroom, instead lying in the grass with the cool breeze on top of a hill that overlooked the city lights, and you weren’t gazing up into space alone, instead in company of your boyfriend, Jisung.

The two of you had spent the last hour and a half stargazing, talking about everything and anything, the big things like school systems, and the little things like the ladybird that had crawled it’s way up a blade of grass before taking flight above you. You were sleepy and ready to go home. You and Jisung were standing, facing each other, giving the sky one more quick glance before you left. When your vision came back down, you met Jisung’s eyes. They were pretty, a dark chocolate brown, the type of brown that when light hits them at just the right angle, they turn into pools of honey. They were entrancing, glittering, beautiful. It seems like he was just as entranced by your gaze as you were his, as the both of you stood in silence. Finally, Jisung mustered up enough courage like the day he asked you out, and cupped your face. His hands pressed flush against your cheeks, feeling the warmth from your blush underneath them. His lips parted and closed again, like he was trying to tell you something but was second guessing himself.

“I think,” Jisung started, trying to collect his thoughts before speaking. “I think I’m in love with you.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one,” You laughed softly, your eyes flickering from his eyes down to his lips, so full and kissable. Without a second to think, he pulled you closer, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, a kiss full of sweetness and amateur love, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The two of you broke away and smiled. “Shall we go home now?” You asked with lovestruck eyes. He noticed. He smiled.

“Yes, we better,”

You were maybe just a little bit in love with Park Jisung.

First Argument

You can only recount one argument with Jisung.

You sat there at the cafe, looking around nervously for him. The constant checks of your phone and the cafe door every time the bell rang to signify a new customer, you silently hoped it wasn’t true. He wouldn’t do this to you. You refused to believe it. There was no way, right? There was no way Park Jisung had forgotten your date, right?

Wrong.

“Jeno, has anyone ever told you, you suck at MarioKart?” Chenle asked teasingly, pillow colliding with his head, which caused Toad to fly off the edge of the course. Jisung laughed hysterically, tears forming in his eyes as he drove Yoshi to victory. Amongst the commotion going on inside, the doorbell rang. Renjun, who was not participating in his friends’ antics, decided to answer it. Upon seeing you, he was a bit shocked to see you there. You barely showed up there, so to see you standing outside the door, with your coat folded between your arms and a displeased look on your face, took him by surprise.

“Jisung, it’s for you,” Renjun called into the door, abandoning you at the threshold to take over Jisung’s controller.

When your boyfriend saw you, he smiled with a twinkle of confusion in his eye.

“Hey, what are you doing here? We were just playing MarioKart if you-”

“You forgot, didn’t you?” You interrupted bitterly, boring holes in his soul from your gaze alone. Jisung looked at you for a second, trying to comprehend the words that had left your lips moments ago.

“Is it your birthday?” Jisung asked stupidly. Anger flashed in your eyes before you grabbed him by the shoulder of his t-shirt and tugged him out of the dorm. With the door now acting as a barrier between the argument and the fun his friends were having, you could now speak freely.

“3pm, Culture Cafe. Does this mean anything to you?” You interrogated, your tone bitter and upset, a lethal combination. Jisung’s eyebrows furrowed in thought, wracking his brains to try and make connections between the two.

“Our date, Jisung! Our fucking date!” You yelled at him, growing bored of watching him try and remember. “We planned this three days ago, how can you not remember?” Your voice softened in disbelief. “It was just this one thing, but instead I come here and find you playing video games with your friends.” The more you spoke, the more tears blurred your vision.

Jisung swore he heard his heart break when he saw a fat tear roll down your cheek. He had caused those tears, over just how forgetful he really is.

“If there was a more sincere way of saying sorry, I would say it. I can’t think of the words to-” Jisung was cut off by your sobs. He immediately panicked, grasping your shoulders, feeling like a kicked puppy. “No, no, no, baby don’t cry. I promise I’ll-”

“I can’t be here any longer. Just give me a few days,” you used those words as your salutations of farewell, turning on your heel and walking away from him. You silently screamed at yourself for getting so upset over a stupid date, but this wasn’t like Jisung. He was so adamant about not forgetting the important things, so why would he forget this?

It had been five days since the confrontation with Jisung, and you had not spoken to him since. You left him on read with every text message, and deleted every voicemail he left you. You acknowledged you may be acting a bit brashly, but you wanted him to feel the same forgotten feeling that sat in the bottom of your stomach when he left alone at that cafe.

You wanted Jisung to apologise. You just didn’t expect him to apologise the way he did.

Your doorbell rang repetitively, clearly trying to divide your attention from your comfort show. You reluctantly stood up from your comfy spot on the couch, and walked towards the door. Upon opening it, you saw a boy with dark dishevelled hair with a cake in hand. The cake was messily decorated and seemed a bit squashed, but you could still tell it was supposed to be a heart shape.

“Is this your way of apologising?” You asked him monotonously, your eyes still on the cake. Jisung nodded. His eyes seemed puffy.

“I don’t mean to ruin the apology, but why does the cake look a bit…”

“Squished?” Jisung finished, a sad smile playing at his lips. “Chenle, the stupid ass, sat on the box before I left. All my hard work, now flattened,” He gave a half hearted chuckle before silencing himself.

“Look, I am really, really sorry. I was stressing, and the boys thought it would be a good idea if I spent time out of my room and play some games with them to stop moping around, and I didn’t realise how fast the time went and I forgot about our date and then I felt horrible and I-” He rambled on, an embarrassed blush colouring his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He stopped when he heard you giggle, a soft, almost whimsical sound. You took the cake box from him and smiled.

“You put all of this work in, just for an apology?” You asked, a soft smile subconsciously creeping across your face.

“You weren’t answering your phone, so I got desperate,” Jisung admitted, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck at your reaction. You stepped forward to kiss his cheek, his skin warm against your lips.

“So, am I forgiven?” He asked nervously, feeling cold sweat dribble down the back of his neck.

“Depends. Are you gonna share this cake with me?” You countered, stepping aside to invite him in.

“Who did you bribe to allow you in the kitchen by yourself?”

“Hey!”

First Dance

“Hurry up, we’re going to miss the sunset,” Jisung tugged you up the hill, sunlight casting over his face the higher he hiked up the mountain. You let out a tired laugh as you allowed him to drag you up the mountain. Once you reached the top, you finally understood why he wanted to show you this place. The view was spectacular. The sunset gave the landscape an orange hue to it, even the ocean sparkled like magnificent glitter. The orange specks glowed like millions of fireflies, creating a picture perfect landscape, one that belonged within the walls of a world famous museum.

“This is stunning,” You sighed in awe, the dusk lighting flicking its rays into your irises. Jisung nodded firmly, pride bubbling in his chest at knowing he picked the perfect place.

“Baby?” He asked, hiding his shyness as best he could.

“Yeah?” You answered, eyes breaking away from the beautiful atmosphere to him. He held his hand out, suggesting something.

“Dance with me?” He asked politely, a pink tint colouring the tips of his ears. You giggled lightly.

“Dancing is meaningless without music,” You informed, warm breeze whipping past the exposed parts of your skin. Jisung whipped out his phone, briefly tapped on the screen and waited before a soft and calming song played from the speakers. He slipped it into his back pocket, quickly taking your left hand in his right, his left hand coming down to rest on your waist and steadily rocking you to the melody. Your head rested against his chest, inhaling his warm scent. He smelt of fresh cotton sheets and something else that can only be described as the sweetest fruit of the summer.

The moment felt like a scene out of a fairytale, a nonsensical world that only manifested in the creative young minds of children, however the way the gentle breeze kissed your cheek and ruffled your hair, the last of the sun’s rays pressed a warm glow to your skin, it felt too real to be make believe.

Jisung twirled you around on the spot, a giggle escaping your lips as you fell gracefully against his chest. As you spun around to face him again, the look in his eyes could only be truly explained with one word; ‘Lovestruck’, like his whole world revolved around you. You were his moon, his stars, his world. You might as well have been his whole solar system, dammit. He pressed a soft chaste kiss your lips, pulling away and leaving only centimeters between the both of you.

“I love you,” Jisung’s face lit up like the fireflies that played in the valley beneath you. You cracked a giddy smile, lacing your fingers with him.

“I love you too,” You requited, realising that the song you were originally dancing to had faded out some time ago, only dancing along to the beat of each other’s heart. He laughed at this discovery, holding you closer and hearing the faint drum of your thumping heart. He hummed to himself as thoughts of you swam through his head, but only one stuck out to him. It was less of a thought and more like an idea, a wish, a dream, a promise.

You are my first love, and I intend for you to be my last

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symphonyofthewrite · 4 years

Text

If These Walls Could Talk (Ch2)

Fandom: Castlevania Netflix

Summary: Vampires do not have reflections, and castles do not have hearts. But Dracula is no ordinary vampire, and Castlevania is no ordinary castle. If castles can fight, maybe they can think too.

The series, and Adrian’s childhood, told from the perspective of the castle.

Chapter Summary: “I had entirely different books under my childhood bed. My father was a polymath, my mother was a doctor, and I grew up very fast.”

Chapter 2: “Happy”

The castle doesn’t like the crying.

This new being is here, alive, and apparently ‘alive’ means ‘up at all hours bawling.’ The castle is used to a general tone of sorrow, of people screaming, and wolves howling, but this incessant wailing, for no reason, certainly not a good reason—(are there any ‘good’ reasons here?)—is not something that it enjoys echoing within its halls all the time. The room is not empty, isn’t cold, or dark, but ‘warm’ and ‘light’ and ‘full’ would be pushing its luck. Letting the woman and her new life in, setting this room aside, changing that reflection, building this little universe, may just have been a mistake. Life is far more foul than death, the castle concludes; at least death is quiet.

But then there’s another sound: sometimes, if they are very lucky, the child laughs.

…and the room fills with the sound, like air in its lungs.

It isn’t just the room anymore. It belongs to someone. It has a master. It’s his room. It’s Adrian’s room.

Centuries went by when there was no laughter in these rooms. Not a single word, nor note of song, how could their ever be laughter? Dracula’s castle was not a place for it, Dracula was not the creature to give it—(unless you count the maniacal kind). It was something neither castle nor master lamented the absence of—(aside from that of his victims, there was little lament here. The place was hollow, and that means there was no emotion here; no joy, nor real sorrow. Happiness is only real when sadness is too). But now that Castlevania knows the sound, a little of ‘happy’…it may just melt all its gears to fill every hall with that tiny, shimmering sound.

And when Vlad smiles, laughs in return, bouncing this little golden boy on his knee—(so unlike how he treated the sons and daughters of others before)…the castle thinks it might just be able to handle the crying.

There’s a painting here too, now. The walls in this room are not stagnant and bare. The three of them left one day, and when they came back—smiles on their faces, laughs in their throats—there was a painting in their hands, which they gave to the room.

A reflection of the family. Of ‘family.’ Of ‘happy.’

There was no need for paintings before. The only master of this castle was here, in the blood—why depict him why you could just meet him? The castle didn’t need brushstrokes on canvas to remember what Dracula’s face looked like.

The castle may not have watched kings and queens reign and wither, may not pay homage to them with its walls, but it has three inhabitants now—the boy has two ancestors, one a king, one an ordinary woman—and well, they may as well reside on the walls too, just in case they’re not always here; God knows it’s too easy to lose anything living here.

Just to make sure the boy remembers their faces. What ‘happy’ looked like.

Soon the castle will understand that living things grow, and that perhaps the painting is not there for remembrance after death, but to remember when he was a tiny, smiling, crying ball of giggles…because he won’t be like this forever.

The painting isn’t the only thing on the walls either; the mirror. As they predicted, it is not empty here, though not magical, it isn’t purposeless. It sits, watching all that goes on, and it holds the boy in its silver grasp, as well as his mother. They are real. They are alive. Two drops of sunlight.

Sunlight.

That’s the other thing; the windows in the room are open now.

Humans seem to hunt, to find joy in, the sun. Vampires cannot even live in the sunlight, much less enjoy it, so Dracula has no choice but to keep his castle dark.

But Adrian has a mother too, and is not all vampire. The point of the room was never to be pitch black anyways.

And when he opens the windows… it’s as if the castle is a cat, and the little boy pulled its tail. It hurts, in a way; too much, too fast, without permission, thinking a part of its body is something to play with. The castle would like to scold, hiss, or at least glare at the boy, and wonders if the laughter’s worth the sting.

But he doesn’t let up. And somewhere in this too-exciting production, the castle grows to anticipate the sunlight’s bite. This isn’t like the ever-ache the emptiness wrought. It’s a pang like medicine; not pleasant, but something you need to take every day.

And Castlevania does need it.

The castle thought its fashion was black, but when the child opens the curtains; when he plays with those toys his mother made in the golden afternoon; when he holds the prisms his father gave him to the rays, and they split into spectrums; when he lays as a teenager on the floor, surrounded by his own drawings, and crumpled attempts, draped in golden light, staring up at the day-stricken stars…it thinks gold doesn’t look too bad on it.

Life stirs. Adrian opens the door to the room, and it starts to seep out into the halls.

The gold tiptoes along the walls, hides under beds, and behind couches. It sits quietly on cushions and floors and windowsills. It scurries through all the rooms, and toys with all the things under the motto ‘don’t play with that!’ It dances to the rhythm inherent within it.

The boy and his mother, two rays of sunlight, chase each other through the halls. Their footsteps, the soft, chirpy patter, is music against the castle’s stones—always so different from its master’s unrelenting score. They run by Vlad’s study laughing, and call its master, his father, to come out of the dark.

The castle is used to the unkind tones of its master, even towards children; it more than half expects him to scold them for the noise, to shut the door, or say nothing.

And sometimes he does.

But there are other times when he picks up the boy, puts him on his shoulders, and rushes through the halls himself, that death-knell of a walk becoming another spirited harmony in the song. Sometimes they even take this music outside; Vlad and his son become those running, howling things in the forest.

The castle has never seen its master like this. Just like when he worked with his hands to build the room. It isn’t sure it likes. But then…it isn’t sure it dislikes it either…

That isn’t to say he never scolds the boy. In fact, one of the times he did was simply for opening a window somewhere outside his room. It may seem a small thing to raise one’s voice over, but it’s understandable when spontaneous combustion is on the other line. Its master is not ready to end the night. Castlevania is unsure, but it will not die in the light; in fact, against its better judgment…it thinks it’s starting to live in it.

He made Adrian cry when he reacted this way. Crying never meant a thing here; Dracula has caused many children to weep in his presence. But these tears—instead of making him raise himself up, look scornfully on, as he always did before—make Vlad pause, blink, soften his tone, kneel in front of him, try to stop them from flowing. So the castle pauses too.

Adrian is a bit of a sensitive child. At least, the castle draws that conclusion. Dracula’s job doesn’t call for wonton emotion, and he’d never fall for someone with a penchant for sentimentality. But the boy, though much of the time he takes after his parents, continues to shed tears even when he is older. Even if it is just him, alone in the room, and a secret only the castle knows. The castle no stranger to crying, especially since the boy spent much of its early life doing nothing but that. But now that the crying has meaning, now that the castle is beginning to understand what sorrow is—(and it doesn’t like to think what it must have meant when Dracula’s victims sobbed at his feet, that they were someone’s parents, someone’s children, and their castle’s probably wanted to protect them too)—it is not sure it wants to be familiar with Adrian crying. But it cannot wrap its walls around him, hold him tight, and keep him warm like his parents can. It can only sit and wait for it to be over, and try to urge the fire to reach out to him.

Adrian is smart; he ages fast (that is, Lisa seemed surprised at how fast this transition occurred), and he learns faster, agile in his pursuits and eager at the knee of his learned parents. The castle is glad of this, as it was getting sick of all the easy words and games. Though it does miss the tiny smiles and laughter sometimes. Crying was more common when he was a tiny, wordless life, but so was laughter. The castle learns as children grow up, though sadness isn’t so frequent, ‘happy’ becomes a rare gem too. Because they are only noise to a baby, only it testing out its new mouth. As they grow, as they learn of words, and both ‘happy’ and ‘sad,’ both crying and laughter, have far too much meaning.

All those things his parents built and brought—the charts, and books and stars—start to become useful. Vlad walks a curious, more mature Adrian through the libraries, and to the rooms where the shards of not-quite-normal mirrors reflect places other than this one, transporting him to new worlds, both literally and figuratively. He may not be able to open the windows outside his room, (at least not when his father is around), but all those things that for so long sat dormant and unread on their shelves now come alive, much like the things in the room; little toy soldiers at the beck and call of the child’s imagination.

Imagination. The castle didn’t know what that was until now. It is the essence of that life-creating attribute Lisa brought here. The stuffed cloth becomes growling wolves in the child’s hands. Toy figures become humans, vampires, locked in a duel. Empty words become stories, become worlds. Empty pages become landscapes and portraits. The child’s mind gives life to inanimate things, like some sort of wandless, effortless, magic.

And, seeing its master take the boy through the halls, showing him all the magic, the mystery, the meaning of things, the castle realizes it’s watching its master come to life as well.

Lifelessness was a fact of life here, it never seemed wrong or lacking, but the castle wonders if only children have the power to imagine things to life, or if this exists in adults too. It’s never seen Vlad play with toys, but now it knows that toys aren’t just silly objects; they are living things, animals, and people, and worlds, to a child. The castle wonders if reflections can be toys too. Castlevania wonders if this thing, this need for something more than lifeless stone, this need for life, this simple, complex magic, might be why lonely people talk to walls.

There are books in that room. But they do not sit still on their shelves. There are toys and in that room, but they are not worthless trinkets on the floor. There is a mirror in that room, but it is not empty. There are windows in that room, but they do not stay dark. There is a fire in that room, but it is not cold. There is a boy in that room, and he is alive.

Adrian laughs, and he cries. He reads and he learns. He casts spells and he casts his pen to the page. He plays, and he draws, and he imagines, and he brings to life everything around him.

And that warmth, that light, that life, is spreading through Castlevania like medicine in its veins. It never minded the cold, the dark, the death, and the lonely, but the warmth…the light…the life…

Adrian opens the windows, opens the door.

And, in the center of life-strewn universe they built, the room sighs.

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merakiaes · 5 years

Text

All Is Well - Avengers

Pairing: Avengers x Stark!reader (platonic)

Requested: No.

Warnings/notes: !ENDGAME SPOILERS! Just wanted to write a short and fluffy alternate ending for Endgame, it sucks and doesn’t have much interaction in it but I haven’t written in two months so I’m a bit rusty.

Wordcount: 2661

Summary: Just a simple alternate ending to Endgame where you’re Tony Stark’s adoptive daughter.

(Y/N) Stark. How does one describe (Y/N) Stark?

Various psychiatrists had tried and failed. Big time.

You were, to put it the nicest way possible, a plague. You were the biggest pain the Avengers had ever had the misfortune to meet, you were like a rash they couldn't reach and that never went away.

It was a given, wasn’t it? You were your father’s daughter at heart and in soul. It was pretty much in your job description to be annoying those around you, despite the fact that you weren’t related by blood. But it was pretty clear by now that family didn’t end in blood.

But still, they all loved you.

Tony Stark had taken you in when you were merely seven of age. It was a mission gone wrong at a HYDRA base. Tony and Steve had ran through the halls towards the exit, very much in a hurry to avoid the fate of being blown to pieces, which was sure to come if they wasted another minute in the facility.

But they had stopped, as a muffled crying sound entered their ears when passing a door. Tony tried to convince Steve that it was nothing, that it was probably a trick to lure them in long enough to get them killed, but Steve insisted they checked it out.

It took a good minute and a half of banging his shield against the lock to get the door open, and during the whole time he was mentally apologizing for whoever it was that was stuck on the inside, himself flinching at the loud sounds that echoed through the hallway.

That’s where they found you; in a heavily secured cell built in vibranium, each wall 4 inches thick. You had shielded your eyes as the door opened, the red flashing lights that entered hurting your eyes form being in the dark for so long.

Steve had given Tony a ‘I told you so’-look, before proceeding to squat down, inching closer to you with his hand stretched out in front of him to show you that he meant no harm. But in the state you were in, you only backed further into your corner.

It was only then the two men noticed the heavy metal bracelets clasped to your wrists. It was only then they realized, you were one of the experiments. And to be locked up the way you were, you had to be powerful.

They had exchanged a glance, noticing and realizing the same thing at the same time, and Tony had taken the same stance as Steve, crouching down and trying to beck you to him. The flashing lights outside the cell reflected on the strange man’s equally as strange metal armor, catching your attention, and to both his and Steve’s surprise, you flung yourself into his arms.

Tony had to push the shock to the back of his head as you buried your face in his exposed neck and wrapped your tiny arms around his shoulder, standing up in a hurry and running out of there just in time to avoid being blown up, Steve not far behind.

He had carried you all the way to the helicarrier, the rest of the team being more than surprised as Tony brought a little girl onto the ship, said girl’s hands squeezing onto her stuffed lynx with all her might.

That’s how you got your nickname; Lynx. They didn’t know your real name at first. They had managed to hack into the, now fallen, HYDRA base’s data system and pull out your file, but parts of it was damaged. Neither your origins or backstory was in it, only your name, age and medical and experimental history from your stay at the HYDRA base.

You were seven years old, named (Y/N). They couldn’t find a last name, or any information of who your family might have been.

You didn’t let go of Tony once during your trip back to Stark Tower, and upon your arrival when Tony tried handing you over to a female with red hair, you clung to him even harder. He had been annoyed to say the least, but it was clear by then that you weren’t going to let go anytime soon.

The rest of the Avengers could only stare as Pepper instructed the clueless man on how to handle you as he, although begrudgingly, gave you a bath, cleaned you up and tried to get you to eat.

Several hours passed before you let him go, falling asleep in his arms and finally allowing him to put you down into his bed, the Lynx plushie hugged to your chest as you snored lightly. This gave the team the time they needed to read through your HYDRA file.

The Germans had called you dangerous, lethal; death itself. In the file, the importance of the metal bracelets was mentioned more than once. Without it, your powers would be uncontrollable, and you could cause death to anyone who came close enough.

Tony was the only one who didn’t think it would be safe to keep you around, pointing out several times that you actually had the power to manipulate any lifeform and kill them in an instant. But Nick Fury wouldn’t have it, pretty much ordering the whole team to take you in.

So, they did. And as time passed by, you grew to be comfortable with the rest of the team, as well. But you never left Tony’s side. And he grew to like it, not that he would admit it. But everyone knew, seeing as come your tenth birthday, he officially adopted you and gave you his name.

He had used the power source of your bracelets to build a chamber where you could practice your powers without anyone coming to harm, and also adjusted the original bracelets into slightly more discrete and practical ones as you had been complaining practically since day one that they were heavy.

But despite having a place of your own where you could practice your powers, you didn’t. The memories of HYDRA using you as some kind of executioner to suck the life out of their enemies were still fresh in your mind, even as you entered your teenage years.

Still at the age of nineteen, the tormented screams and the feeling of their energy entering you and clawing at you from the inside was not something you wanted to feel again. Because of this, you kept your bracelets on and more often than not stayed at home while the others went on missions.

But then you met Loki, and even though he was supposed to be the bad guy, you couldn’t help but like him. Surprisingly, he took a liking to you, too. It was a short and brief relationship, entirely platonic.

But even during that short time he managed to help you a great deal with your powers, with only one advice: “The key to controlling your power is to stop trying to control it and deny its existence in the first place.”

It was thanks to this that you were able to, for the first time yet, fight side by side with the rest of the team when Thanos entered the picture. You found yourself in space with Tony, Dr. Strange and Spider-Man when the snap happened, and Tony had to watch both you and Peter fade away to dust.

You were gone. His only true source of happiness and probably one of the most powerful people on the planet, had you only learnt to control your powers, gone with just a snap, along with the kid he had taken under his wing and sworn to protect.

It was all he could think about when he was stuck in space, and once he had been brought back home, everyone that was left could see how badly the snap had affected him. He barely spoke, hid himself away, until the day he left and settled down with Pepper.

When he arrived at the Avengers’ warehouse to help with the time heist, he had your stuffed Lynx stuck into the pocket of his jacket. No one said a word as he passed them and walked into the building, wasting no time in getting to work.

They managed to pull it off, with some struggle, and they won. But for some reason, you hadn’t come back with the others during the fight against Thanos. None of the victims of the snap had seen you in the quantum realm. Dr. Strange’s explanation was that you, somehow, must have hid away.

It wasn’t until Tony was taking his final breath that he finally felt you. A cold breeze swayed by them as they were all kneeling in front of their dying savior, causing Pepper to draw her hand back from Tony’s cheek and stumble back.

They watched as the sand under their feet started swirling about, a barely noticeable, dark shadow rising along with it. Tears pricked Tony’s eyes at the sight, closing his eyes at the feeling of a light caress against his cheek.

Everyone around him were quiet as they watched the scene unfold before them. They watched as the shadow stroked its hand against Tony’s cheek, they watched as he took his last breath, and then they watched the shadow push into the front of his body.

It was quiet for a moment, before Tony’s eyes suddenly shot open, his body launching itself forward, Pepper and Strange hurrying to catch him before he fell on his face.

They hadn’t seen your physical body at the time, but they all knew who it was that had brought Tony back. Not a word was spoken as everyone reunited with their loved ones and made their way back to their world through Strange’s portals.

Not a word was said as the team made their way into the Avengers warehouse. That is, until the smell hit them.

They all seemed to think the same thing, stopping abruptly in the doorway. They all knew that smell, the smell of your favourite food that seemed to be the only thing you could cook without burning the entire kitchen down.

“I hope you guys are hungry.” A voice suddenly came from further into the room, causing everyone to jump in shock.

They all turned to look in the direction of the voice, eyes widening as they watched Natasha casually stroll into the room, hands wiping down on a towel she had stuck into her jean pocket.

Everyone stood frozen, both mesmerized and terrified that she was there, smiling like it was just any other day in their lives.

The Black Widow chuckled at the sight of her friends and colleagues, finally stopping in front of them. “Come on.” She spoke again, hands propping on her hips. “Cat got your tongues?”

Clint was the first to react, shooting forward like one of his own arrows and crashing her into a bone crushing hug. They stood there for a good minute, just crying into each other’s necks, before the rest of the team went around getting their own reunions with the female assassin.

“But how?” Clint asked as they had all gone around hugging her, still not believing his eyes.

Natasha only smiled, turning to look at Tony. “Your daughter really is something, Stark.” Her smile widened. “While you were all running around in space, saving the world, she went on a mission of her own.”

Tony couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His knees suddenly got weak, causing him to stumble lightly. Luckily, Thor was right as his side to catch him before he hit the floor.

“She-“ He found himself unable to form words. Swallowing, he took a deep breath. “She’s here? She’s okay?”

Natasha nodded, the smile never leaving her lips. “She’s okay. She’s right in here, in the kitchen. We-“

Natasha wasn’t able to finish her sentence, Tony not wasting another second before shooting forward in the direction of the kitchen, the others close behind.

“Tony.” Natasha tried to run after him, grabbing his arm to get him to slow down. But he wouldn’t have it.

Natasha tugged on his arm. “Tony. Before you go in there, I need to tell you, (Y/N) had a little-“

She stopped herself again as Tony came to an abrupt halt in the kitchen doorway. “-help.” She finished with a sigh, rubbing the bridge of her nose in a way to prepare herself for the yelling that was sure to come.

However, before Tony could speak, Thor barged past them and into the kitchen. “Brother!” He yelled at the top of his lungs, the walls seeming to shake at the intense volume.

Loki didn’t get a second to react before he was crushed into his brother’s embrace, the God of Thunder crying and rambling as he hugged him hard. “You’re here.”

“There, there.” Loki awkwardly patted his brother’s shoulder, sparing a glance to the wooden spoon he had dropped to the floor with the force of the attack.

Tony and the rest of the team stared long and hard at the God of Mischief, and you scoffed, as they seemingly hadn’t even acknowledged you at the other side of the room yet. “I’m here, too.” You spoke then, crossing your arms over your chest.

The sound of your voice instantly woke Tony up from his hateful thought-bubble and he whipped his head around to look at you.

“(Y/N).” He stated, eyes widening and mouth falling open at the sight of you. There you were, wearing your usual sports shorts and one of his t-shirts, hair up in a lazy ponytail and a purple apron wrapped around your neck and back.

“In the flesh.” You grinned at him, and a second later you were wrapped in his warm embrace.

Tears pricked your eyes as you breathed in the familiar smell of his cologne, arms coming to wrap around his neck.

“I thought I lost you.” He mumbled into your neck, eyes still wide open and staring into the wall behind you all while silent tears rolled down his cheeks.

You chuckled gently, squeezing your eyes shut. “I thought I lost you.”

He didn’t say anything else. He just held you. And you held him. During your reunion and sweet father-daughter moment, Loki was shaking hands and making amends with the rest of the team after Natasha had explained how you had gone on a time heist yourself to be able to get him back, and that Loki in turn, had helped you discover that you were also able to use your powers to do good and assisted you in getting Natasha and Tony back.

They were all in shock, each of them taking their time to dwell on the news while keeping on their side of the kitchen to give you and Tony privacy.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help.” You mumbled into Tony’s chest, drowning out the sound coming from the rest of the group behind you.

You felt his arms squeeze you tighter. “But you were.” He whispered. “I felt it. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

“I was just repaying you for all of the times you’ve been there for me. I wouldn’t be here without you, either.”

Tony couldn’t do anything other than let out a relieved and happy chuckle as he brought his hand up to smooth your hair. “I love you, kid.”

“I love you, too, dad.” You smiled to yourself, happy tears escaping your eyes as you glanced behind Tony to watch the others start to lay the table and put out the food you, Natasha and Loki had made together before the others’ arrival.

The screaming and fighting both you and Natasha had expected to without a doubt happen when the Avengers first realized that Loki was there, never happened. For the first time in what seemed to be forever, everyone was happy and getting along.

And all was well.

#avengers #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark daughter #tony stark x daughter!reader #loki x thor #natasha x clint #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #loki x reader #endgame spoilers #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel one shot #avengers one shot

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broadwayandnetflix · 4 years

Text

It’s Always Been You - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Language

Theme: Fluff, Pining, Semi-Angst

Summary: Being the youngest princess in a wealthy kingdom definitely has its ups and downs, especially when your father is trying to court you away to some wealthy prince.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: This was made for @bucky-smiles Secret Santa Writing Challenge, and I wrote this for the lovely @delicatelyherdreams. I really do hope that you enjoy this, even with its late arrival. I feel as though this story went in a million different ways, but I tried to do you justice. I also hope you enjoy my very creative way of coming up with kingdoms. (no sarcasm here)

You sat upright on your mattress, eyes closed, and knees tucked underneath you, a faint smile gracing your lips. The air of your bedroom peaceful, quiet minus the soft sound of your record player playing in the background, calm and serene.

Rarely if ever, you had moments like these to yourself. Periods where you can just relax and not have to help your family tend the Kingdom.

Where you could simply pop open a book, wear more comfortable clothes, do nothing, go out, and not have Barnes check up on your every move. Well, you could let that last one slide.

For the last 19 years, your existence has been claimed by your family’s royal history. From the first day of your life, you were titled as one thing and one thing only.

Y/N Y/L/N, Princess of Starkonia.

You were to be polite, flexible, and accepting of those around you, you had to be presentable and prepared at your father’s beck and call. You needed to be present during ceremonies, and get prepared for what seemed to be your most significant task, marriage.

Even the mention of the word tasted bitter on your tongue, the prospect of being wedded to a man you barely knew was revolting. Yet, just like your sisters did before you, you too would have to get married at some point.

Savannah was first, marrying some big wig from a neighboring country. Juliet was next, getting married at only nineteen to one of the richest princes from Rogeria. Shortly after followed Hannah, who conveniently married Juliet’s husband’s brother.

Growing up, marriage was all your sisters could talk about. Often dreaming of what they would wear on their wedding day, or how they would soon one day become queen, conjuring up the royal subjects that they would lead and inspire over.

You would listen, of course, with an eager grin, but whenever they would ask for your input, you’d often draw a blank. Even during your early teenage years, you couldn’t really imagine your future starting off with marriage. Which, of course, was unusual regarding your sister’s childhood, so you often became alienated from discussions.

So you found refuge in the likes of one of your father’s young knights, James Buchanan Barnes. Or Bucky to you and you only. Despite his dedication and serious attitude to his job, you’d often find time to sweep him away.

The two of you frequently met in secret within the palace’s gigantic library, reading side by side, eating stolen pastries from the boisterous and clattering kitchen.

Underneath the full bookshelves of the library was where the two of you let your guard’s down. Both of you share secrets that you’d tell no one else, read books from the tallest shelves, and chatter on about the latest palace gossip.

The library was where you learned that Bucky was an aspiring writer, but became a knight to make a living and impress his father. He was thoughtful, quiet, but also quite humorous, always seeming to tickle you with his quips and comments.

In response, you shared your distaste of marriage and how you desired a more straightforward career that didn’t require so much attention. Instead of being judgmental and critical of your complaints, Bucky, to your delight, welcomed them with considerate eyes, and a listening ear.

Bucky made your days meaningful, always giving you something to look forward to, an escape if you will. So when your father, unbeknownst to your growing duo, made Bucky be your personal guard, the two of you were ecstatic.

Of course, you knew the reasoning behind this, your father valued your safety, being the youngest of your family meant that you were the last to be scooped up. Given your family’s rich lineage, courting, you would be a satisfying compromise for growing countries and their princes.

Bucky would often find himself falling subject to your long, and constant complaints about your potential suitors.

Nobody ever seemed to meet your fancy. Thor of Asgard was too self-absorbed, Bruce of Bannaria was too quirky, or worst of all, Samuel of Willaria was way to forthcoming.

Oh, how they all gave you quite a headache!

You could tell that your father was becoming quite frustrated with your lack of progress. Day by day would pass with to no avail, you’d always find some way to shoot each of them down.

Dinner’s would be filled with short tempers and argumentative quips that’d send you to sleep angry and exhausted. Unless you found a suitor that satisfied your father over yourself, then you could make him proud.

Yet through thick and thin, Bucky remained a constant in your life, even if he technically had to be. The two of you would often explore the little village outside of the palace. Complete with bustling vendors within the local farmer’s market that sold ripened fruit, pastries, linens, and fresh honey from the town’s apiaries.

You always found joy in seeing the many vendors that always greet you with a smile. Or seeing the kids that would run around trying not to trip over themselves to see the royal horses. Days like these were your escape as they were Bucky’s who could always be found in the town’s small bookstore.

Days where you don't have to prove yourself to anyone or focus on whomever you were going to marry. These days were your favorite, like this one, in particular, your mother and father out for a gathering with a neighboring kingdom.

Despite the flurry of servants and staff that resided in the palace, you were technically by yourself for the day. That was until you hear a knock on your door, open your eyes, and swing your legs forward to stand up from your bed.

“Come in!” you called out before rushing over to lower the sound on your record player.

The door opened with a swing and in stormed Bucky with a sour disposition, a scowl planted firmly on his lips. You gaped wide-eyed at the sight in front of you, never had you seen Bucky so angry.

“What’s wrong?” you asked quickly, watching as he simply paced your room, ignoring you.

That is until he stopped abruptly before focusing his gaze onto you, his shoulders sagging almost immediately. He stood in his uniform minus the exception of his gloves, his metal fingers reflecting in the light that streamed through your window.

“My father,” he huffed, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes tightly, “My father found my novel and went fucking ballistic.” he seethed.

Concern flooding your senses, you move forward to comfort him but ultimately decided against it, taking a step back to give him some space. Bucky’s father had always been tough on him, especially after the loss of Bucky’s mother.

Bucky, more often than not, had to take control of the house to protect himself and his little sisters while his father went out and got drunk at the local taverns. Hence why he had this job in the first place, ultimately crushing any dreams that Bucky had for writing.

“How could I be so stupid? I shouldn’t have left it in plain sight! Or, more specifically, a place where I should’ve known that Rebecca would’ve found it!” he exclaimed, cursing himself quietly, eyes widened like saucers.

“Bucky, you aren’t stupid, and there was no way you could’ve known that she would’ve found it,” you replied quietly, catching his gaze just for a second before he focused it elsewhere.

He exhaled heavily clamping his eyes shut, despite the way he held himself up, you could still see the slight tremble between his legs.

“I’m sorry that your father reacted the way he did. Buck, you don’t deserve that kind of treatment from your father.” you continued on before sitting down on the bed, his eyes opening warily at the sound of you falling against the cushions.

He watched you sit momentarily before joining you without a second thought, his much taller figure slumping onto the bed, before resting his head against yours.

You grew rigid at his touch, trying to fight the pounding in your heart that seemed to echo painstakingly loud in your chest. His arms snaking their way around to your side before he let out a shaking sigh, his metal armor cool to the touch on your skin.

Why do you feel so sweaty all of a sudden? You two had never been this close before, so why does this feel oddly comfortable? Is that cologne? Bucky smells..nice.

“Thank you.” he murmured ever so quietly so only you could hear.

“Anytime Buck, anytime.” you exhale promising yourself that you’d hold him as long as he deemed necessary.

One Week Later

“Come on, sister! Is there really nobody that you fancy nowadays?” Savannah, your oldest sister, exclaimed one evening as the two of you caught up as of your monthly tradition. Her eyes all giddy, hands on her hips in a way too over dramatic manner.

You frowned at the comment presented in front of you, of course, you did not ‘fancy’ any of the young princes offered to you. Yet, there did appear to be someone who did cross your mind more than often nowadays.

Bucky.

No, that didn’t mean you fancied him. Of course not, Bucky was … well, Bucky. He was your best friend, best friends don’t date. Princesses most certainly don’t marry knights either that was just fairy tale nonsense. Father would never approve either.

“Well?” Savannah quipped, her body tilting as she shifted all of her weight onto one foot.

You swallowed sheepishly, glancing down at your feet, flinching at the excited squeal that your sister let out as the realization sunk in.

“Oh my gosh! Y/N! Tell me everything? Who is he? Is he cute? Oh, tell me he’s cute!?” Savannah cried out, nearly tripping over her dress to pull you into a bone-crushing hug.

“Savannah!” you gasped, squirming your way out of her hold, looking at her all bewildered.

“Sorry, It’s just, my baby sister finally found someone,” she replied before taking a seat on your bed, looking at you expectantly.

“Okay, well, for starters, I don’t even know if I like him. I’m friends with him, but he’s just been very touchy lately,” you admit before plopping down beside her lying down on your bed.

“Define touchy,” she questioned while following your actions, her hair now brushing up against yours.

You glanced at her perplexed, the two-year history between you and Bucky swirling around in your mind. Why now? Why were you questioning it now?

“I don’t know, he’s just been a lot closer than he used to be.” you murmur as you rub your face in frustration.

“Don’t tell me this is that young knight that always follows you around like a lovesick puppy?” Savannah exclaimed as she sat upright, looking at you wide-eyed.

“He does not!” you retort back.

“Oh, it so is! You have to tell him!” her voice reaching a pitch that you didn’t think was possible.

“I don’t think I could even stomach that, what if he rejects me?” you sigh, sitting upright only to notice your bedroom cracked open slightly ajar.

“I’m sorry, is this a wrong time?” a voice calls out as the door pushes forward to reveal Bucky.

You have the hold back the gasp that threatened to escape your lips. Bucky catches your gaze, noting the tension in the air between you three before adjusting it onto your sister, who was just as surprised as you.

“I’m guessing this is the wrong time,” Bucky stammers awkwardly before turning around to go.

“Wait!” you cry out, causing him to turn back around, eyeing you curiously.

“I, I need to talk to you about something,” you stammer anxiety pricking at your skin. You felt hot and heavy, the bed dipping as Savannah slipped out the door.

Bucky letting the door close behind him, before walking over to sit beside you on the bed, just as you did for him not so very long ago. He looked at you with an expression that you couldn’t quite decipher, his eyes searching yours for what you were saying.

“You know I don’t know why it hasn’t hit me sooner,” you start trying to hide the shakiness of your words.

“No one ever seemed right, or just worth my time, not even if my parent’s approval was on the line.” he nods to himself slightly at that, chuckling softly.

“I’d be so disappointed with myself, and then I would turn around, and you would be there. Bucky, you have always been there for me,” you admit swallowing before mustering up the courage to meet his eyes.

“It’s been you, Buck, it’s always been you. You are the one I want, I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.” the words fall from your lips, and just like that, it’s as if time stops for just a second.

The room that felt heavy and thick with hesitation or the anxiety that clung to your skin evaporated. All you could see was Bucky and the soft smile that complimented his features. The way his hand slipped into yours, the way he didn’t look away from you as he inched closer.

The way his hand caressed your check sending shivers down your spine, or the way he kissed you with a longing that had never felt so good. Who knew someone could taste so good, or smell so good.

It was perfect, it was long overdue, and it was brand new all at once. And you couldn’t wait to see where it takes you next.

#cmmsecretsanta #@broadwayandnetflix #2019 #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #fluff #pining #fanfiction #@delicatelyherdreams #marvel x reader #royal au

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spidercakes · 4 years

Text

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Tag List: @prettieststarker @readysetstarker @lover-starker@starkerprince @starker-flame @i-am-irondaddy @blush-reincarnated@c6h12o6-work @von–gelmini @caseysroses@darkobsidianquill @starkerhowlter

Warnings: bondage, light (but explicit) BDSM, smut.

Also, this chapter is hella long lmao its like 6K.

He’s looking in the mirror, admiring the shoes. He’d already sent a few pictures to Tony since he’d responded well to it the last time and they look cute with the black skinny jeans he happens to be wearing too. He hadn’t anticipated that, which is dumb because he knows black goes with everything and he’s seen Liz wear skinny jeans and heels but still. He turns a little, shifting the angle of the shoes in the mirror and smiling when someone walks into his room and he lets out a surprised squeak, turning too fast considering he’s not used to the shoes and he slips, falling on his ass.

Liz frowns at him for a moment, noticing the shoes right away. “If you want to wear those you need to learn how to walk in them and as much as I love MJ and Ned they are not qualified to teach you. I don’t think Ned is aware that things that aren’t fandom shirts even exist and MJ dresses like a homeless hobgoblin so I’m all you’ve got,” she says, arms crossed over her chest.

Peter picks himself up, which takes work in heels but he manages mostly. “I think I can manage on my own,” he says.

“Uh huh. Do you know how to walk down stairs in those?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

He frowns, “just like… go down the stairs?”

“Mmhm, see how well that works for you,” she tells him, gesturing out the door to his room. He sighs because now he has to prove her wrong so he walks with pretty good success to the stairs and goes down a few, clinging to the railing as he goes. Liz watches him judgmentally and he gives her a look.

“What? Am I doing it wrong?” he asks. How does someone even go down stairs wrong, heels or no?

“Yeah, you are. Give me a second,” she tells him, disappearing into her room for a moment before she reappears with a pair of heels on and walks down a couple stairs. “Go down them at a forty five degree angle, makes your life a whole lot easier,” she says.

He gives it a try and he frowns when it helps. “That’s so dumb why are they like that?” he asks, giving the shoes an annoyed look.

“No clue, some shoe expert probably figured it out but that’s how to do it the easiest. And you need to learn how to walk in those things, watching you makes me sad. Come here,” she says, walking back up the stairs easy. It takes Peter longer, unused to balancing the way he has to in these shoes. “What’s with the sudden interest anyway?” she asks and Peter shrugs.

“They’re cute.”

“And you decided this… yesterday?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

No, he decided that a long time ago. “Okay, this is going to sound really stupid but like… it didn’t occur to me that I could like… wear heels.”

Liz squints, “yeah, that is really stupid. You don’t even have the big man feet problem, you have baby feet,” she tells him and he wrinkles his nose at her.

“I don’t have baby feet, me feet are normal!”

“You have baby feet, Peter, accept it. So you decided out of nowhere you can wear heels, any other new discoveries? Because if you’ve suddenly decided you like women’s clothing in general I’m banning you from my closet,” she tells him.

He figures he’ll keep the skirt thing to himself, its not like she’d notice anyway. “Why not like… double your wardrobe?” he says. “We’re the same size.”

For a moment Liz frowns, “I didn’t consider that, and since MJ dresses you know… like that I’ve been stuck with one wardrobe this whole time. You have any other galaxy brain takes in there?” she asks. “And I’m borrowing those skinny jeans you’re wearing later.”

He looks down at them, eyebrows drawing together. “Liz, you have like twelve pairs of black skinny jeans why would you need mine?”

“Yours have pockets, strip them off Parker,” Liz tells him.

“Teach me how to walk in these things first and then I’ll consider it,” he tells her. Liz throws a pillow at him and he squeaks, smacking at it to deflect it, sending it flying into a wall while he loses his balance and falls on his ass. Liz walks over, looking down at him from her vantage point, “you’re at my mercy now, Peter,” she tells him.

He sighs, “fine, you can have my pants when we’re done with the heels lesson, I don’t feel like taking them off right now,” he mumbles.

Peter is trying and failing to not want to die in Beck’s class when finally, mercifully, his phone goes off. Its a text and he kind of feels bad for answering it but also if he has to concentrate on Beck for one more minute he might die. MJ gives him a look and she can stop that, she doesn’t even need this class. He does, which is probably why she’s looking at him like that, but still. He’ll pass, if only barely and that’s total crap because Beck only marks him down because of a personal vendetta against Peter over something he doesn’t know he did but still. A pass is a pass.

The text is from Tony, which is probably better than the alternatives. If it was Ned he’d definitely have to look at some horrible meme that he never wanted to see, same if it was MJ especially because she’s sitting right beside him, and if it was Liz there’d probably be a house emergency. She’s weird and prefers phone calls because apparently she grew up in the wrong generation.

Get something pretty and red.

He shakes his head, Tony and his damn obsession with red.

Any specific requests?

Might as well gather what it is Tony is looking for before he gets stuck shopping. Tony gives him a mostly non committal response so he huffs out a sigh, figuring he’ll get something similar to Liz’s skirt seems how he knows Tony liked that. And he liked the skirt too, might as well build something of a work wardrobe. MJ raises an eyebrow at him but he shrugs a little, unsure how he’s supposed to like… explain any of this.

He’s perched on Tony’s couch trying to figure out what the fuck was up with Ned’s computer when he typed all this stuff when Tony walks in. Peter looks over his shoulder and he can tell right away that Tony isn’t in a good mood. He looks more disheveled than normal and he’s frowning like its his job so Peter reaches out to him. “Come here,” he says, smiling when Tony walks over. “You look like you had a rough day,” he says, shifting in his spot so he can set his computer aside and pull Tony in for a kiss. Its a risk, he has no idea if he’ll react well but he figures Tony can pull away if he’s not interested. He doesn’t though, he leans into it and kisses Peter softly back.

“I’ve had a fucking terrible day,” he murmurs. “That’s a pretty skirt,” he adds, looking down at Peter.

“You said red. The boots don’t quite match but I still think they look okay,” he says. He doesn’t mention the little surprise under the skirt, figures if they get to that they’ll get to it. Its a surprise for a reason.

Tony leans in and kisses him again, fingers curling around his jaw, “those boots are pretty attractive too. You’re good at this.”

“I have friends that have an interest in fashion,” he says like he’s never paid attention to fashion in his life. Which, to be fair, he has but not in a meaningful way. Nice men’s stuff is either ridiculously expensive or too nice to wear out to like… normal places so he tends to wear a lot of jeans and graphic T’s. It works for him, even if he thinks women have prettier fashion. But it does come with the downside of being a lot flimsier and no pockets, he’s heard Liz and MJ complain enough to know not to take advantage of his pocket space.

Tony grins, “and you’ve never considered women’s fashion yourself? Because your ability to pick things out suggests you’ve done more than pay attention.”

“I pay attention to things sometimes,” Peter says, pouting a little.

It earns a small laugh out of Tony anyway. “Okay then, keep your secrets. And follow me, I have real plans for tonight,” he says and Peter all but jumps up.

“Really?” he asks, not meaning to sound as excited as he is.

Tony nods and holds out his hand, “really.” Peter takes it and lets Tony lead him to the bedroom he’d gone to the first time he came here. “Remember what I taught you about the stop light system?” Tony asks and Peter nods.

“Green is go, yellow is slow down, red is stop,” he says, knowing from their small training session that Tony will have him repeat it to be sure.

He nods, “good. Now this wasn’t planned in advance, so don’t feel like you have to do anything you don’t want to. Sure, you’re getting paid for this but everyone has the right to refuse work if you’re going from that angle, and from a basic not being a piece of shit angle I don’t want to do anything to you that you’re uncomfortable with. Okay?” he asks.

Peter sits on the edge of the bed and leans back on his palms. “Is it sad that I feel like I have more right to refuse work here than I did when I worked at McDonalds? Because that job sucked and people threw things at me.”

Tony frowns, maybe thrown off by the subject change or the fact that he used to work at McDonalds. “People… actually thought that their McDonalds order was so high stakes they threw shit at you?”

“Yup. I’ve had muffins, cookies, nuggets, coffee, and on one memorable occasion a bird thrown at me. That job taught me that any asshole who thinks McDonalds workers shouldn’t get fifteen dollars an hour for ‘burger flipping’ or whatever has a- never dealt with the general public and b- is probably the type of person to flip shit over a muffin and have a twenty minute long full blown meltdown. Seriously, three year olds have nothing on middle aged white women looking for a coffee. They’re the worst.” Which makes him sad because he knows middle aged white women who don’t suck, his aunt is the best, but after McDonalds he now secretly wonders which ones are the type to scream at teenagers over things that don’t, in the grand scheme of it, matter.

For his part Tony looks completely baffled. “A bird?” he asks and Peter sighs.

“Okay, Bird Man gets a pass because he was homeless, and he definitely had some mental health problems so when he grabbed that pigeon and just like… yote it at me I figured he was already having a worse day than me. But the next hour trying to catch the bird and get it out of the store wasn’t fun.” It ended up being him that finally caught the scared pigeon and he had to go throw it back outside. His boss at least wasn’t a total dildo that day and let him go home early on account of he was distraught but still. The job was the worst.

Tony shakes his head, “should have got a job at SI. You’d get benefits and an actual wage,” he says and Peter frowns.

“Like actually or do you not know the cost of stuff because rich people don’t know the cost of anything,” he says.

“We don’t,” Tony agrees, “which makes taking financial advice from us absolutely stupid but yes, SI employees get that fifteen an hour you mentioned earlier.”

Peter is sure he’s making some kind of face because Tony laughs, “what the hell? I worked at McDonalds for two years when I could have like… sold computers? Ugh.”

“You probably don’t get birds thrown at you often, at least. There was that one time the poop man attacked Toronto though and an SI store got hit. Shockingly all of the employees didn’t quit immediately because I would have.”

Now he knows how Tony felt when he mentioned the bird. “The… the what attacked Toronto?”

Tony shakes his head, “its normal for them and we live in New York, we don’t get to judge. You had a bird thrown at you, like an entire pigeon. Cities are weird- too many people in one spot and you get a bunch of squirrely ones i the mix.”

“Well, I’d rather a whole pigeon than a piece of one, in Bird Man’s defense,” he says and Tony wrinkles his nose.

“That’s a point.”

Peter lets out a soft huff, “so now that we’ve established that Toronto has poop men running around apparently and pigeons get thrown at underpaid minimum wage employees are you going to tell me what you’ve got planned?” he asks, grinning.

Tony smiles down at him, “you ever been tied up before?” he asks.

He shakes his head, “tried handcuffs once and they kind of sucked.” They look deceptively tame but they kind of hurt if they’re too tight or if you move around too much.

“Yeah, its weird that they’re considered next to vanilla considering restraint cuffs might look more intense but they’re a hell of a lot more comfortable. I don’t like cuffs though, never got the aesthetic of them and I’ve been arrested too many times to think they’re any fun. I was going to use rope- red to match your outfit,” he says.

Peter raises an eyebrow, “they make red rope? What hardware store are you going to?” Do rich people have special hardware stores where they can get rope in cool colors? Is there like… a Whole Foods equivalent to Home Depot?

“I didn’t go to a hardware store, baby. Is that where you think people get this stuff? No, I go to a specialty store that makes kink gear. The rope is silk.”

“Oh. I guess that makes a lot more sense than what I was thinking,” he says. “Silk is probably more comfortable than the scratchy stuff you’d get at a hardware store anyway.”

“It is. Here,” Tony says, turning and leaving the room for a few moments before he comes back with a bundle of dark red rope that he throws to Peter.

Well, yeah, its immediately way more soft than what he’d imagined. “Well now I feel dumb,” he says because this should have been like… common sense.

Tony shakes his head, “its fine, I made the same mistake when I was younger too and I’ve been reliably informed that I’m pretty smart,” he says like that’s not the understatement of the year. It does make him feel better though.

“Okay. So what are we doing with this? Aside from like, the obvious,” he says, wrinkling his nose at how dumb his question sounded.

“Restraining your arms- most of it is complicated knot work. It… eases my mind, I guess, is a good way to put it.”

Peter considers it for a moment and shrugs, “okay. Do you want me to take anything off?” he asks. He’s wearing a long sleeved black sweater that might be designed to look nice rather than keep him warm but its really cute with the skirt. And just a little baggy to make up for the fact that he’s got nothing going on up top.

Tony shakes his head, “no, the rope will look nice over the- did you get your nails done?” he asks, spotting them a little late.

“Um. No. Well, kind of. My roommate decided since I liked heels she now has free reign to do my nails because she likes doing it and our other roommates won’t let her practice on them. The red is kind of a coincidence, she likes red too.” The gold was her experimenting and Peter has to admit they came out really nice. Liz said its easier to do his nails than hers and he figures that makes sense.

He doesn’t really anticipate Tony walking over and picking up one of his hands, thumb moving over his nails but its kind of sweet, the way he does it. “They look nice,” Tony murmurs. “So, you ready?” he asks.

Peter perks up a little, unsure where his excitement is even coming from not, he supposes, that he’s about to question it. With a job that pays this well its best if he enjoys it. “Yeah, where do you want me?” he asks.

Tony smiles down at him, eyes crinkled a little at the corners and its a good look on him. “Middle of the bed, make yourself comfortable.”

This isn’t exactly Tony’s first time doing something like this but it is the first time he’s dealt with someone with such… natural submissive leanings. He’s heard plenty of stories but most of them seem either too good to be true, definitively made up, or weirdly misogynistic given that its never men who have a natural gift of submission. He suspects there’s still an element of truth to that but he’ll admit he might have been too quick to judge the stories as blatantly untrue all things considered.

Peter is spread out under him on his stomach, Tony perched on his thighs and Peter has already put his arms behind him, wrists crossed at his butt. He hadn’t needed the instruction at all, just went ahead and positioned himself exactly the way Tony was going to. It would be easy to write it off as a logical position to take but in Tony’s experience even subs who do this often need a little guidance. No one is a mind reader and sometimes they’ll wait for instructions on what to do. Peter, apparently, just happens to be good at doing everything he wants right away.

He places his hand in the middle of Peter’s back, just above where his skirt is sitting and he looks good like this, spread out underneath Tony with his hand on his back. His soft brown curls are brushes away from his face and his eyes are a little hooded, like he’s lost on the idea of being tied up alone. Tony does his best to keep his mouth from watering over the thought of it. He goes to sit back, grab the rope when Peter wiggles a little and Tony raises an eyebrow. “You okay down there?” he asks. Peter’s cheeks turn a little red and Tony sighs, “use your words, baby,” he tells Peter.

It results in another slightly uncomfortable wiggle but Peter speaks before Tony can react. “You can like… use your tie as a gag, right?” he asks, voice low like he’s having a hard time voicing his thoughts. Maybe he is, its not like he’s well versed in this and maybe to him there’s a level of embarrassment. Tony finds it common not that he ever dealt with it. Confusion better fit where he sat when he first got into this stuff. He likes the control, but he has no desire to control anyone in the way he’s experienced it. Made him wonder if his desire for control in this kind of situation was some sort of slippery slope that would lead to him being like Howard. So far it hasn’t happened yet so he figures he’s safe.

“I could, yeah. Is that something you want?” he asks, trying to suss out Peter’s feelings.

His cheeks turn more red, “obviously, or I wouldn’t have asked,” he says, nose wrinkling just a little.

He could have assumed that’s what he wants, but Tony doesn’t tell him that. “Relax baby, of all the things I’ve had people ask of me in situations like this that’s probably one of the tamest options. Give me a minute.” He drags himself off of Peter and then off the bed, feeling the weight of Peter’s eyes on him as he goes.

“What’s the weirdest, then?” he asks.

Never fails to be the next question out of every subs mouth if he says something like that. “You know what sounding is?” he asks, turning to catch a glimpse of Peter shaking his head. “A rod down your pee hole,” he says, laughing as Peter breaks position just to sit up and give him a what the fuck look.

“Why?” he asks, looking horrified.

“Lay back down,” Tony tells him and Peter huffs, returning to his previous position while Tony snatches his tie off the ground. “And I’ve been reliably informed that it feels like a blowjob on the inside, but not my thing.”

Peter doesn’t look like he believes him whatsoever and Tony can’t say he blames him for that. “That’s like… not cool at all,” Peter mumbles while Tony climbs back onto the bed.

“Different strokes for different folks and apparently its painless, not that I’ve ever tried it on account of no thanks.” Not that he should judge, he’s tried some weird things that he’s also discovered are not his thing but still. There’s always a thing or two that will freak a person out and that happens to be one of his, that and any kind of bathroom stuff he does not get the appeal but hey, he’s sure plenty of people don’t get shibari either. Its not like there’s a sexual element for it in the bondage itself either, even if he likes the look of it when its finished. But the act itself has more to do with aesthetics and concentration than sex.

Gags though, that’s more of a sexual thing for him and he’s looking forward to seeing Peter wear one. Especially since he chose to go with his tie. Its an intimate choice, one of Tony’s preferred though it has the downside of leaving the dry cleaning people to clean slobbery ties. He makes a knot in the middle though, turning it into a makeshift cleave gag before setting it aside. Peter gives him a quizzical look and Tony settles a hand in the middle of his back again. “I’m going to tie your hands and see if you can still snap so you can give me some indication that you want out of the ropes,” he says.

A small frown appears on Peter’s features as he considers that. “Huh. I didn’t even think of that,” he says.

“I know baby, but I’ve been doing this long enough to not over look basic stuff like that. Not that I would have expected you to come up with something anyway, that’s more my job.” He’s the one who has to pay attention to Peter’s safety and he’s the one with more experience- its Peter’s job to let him know he’s uncomfortable and that’s mostly it aside from not being outright stupid but Tony told him ahead of time not to be stupid enough to tie himself to a bed with knots that get tighter every time you struggle. Peter had immediately wrote the idea off but Tony has heard of people doing that so its not like it hasn’t been done.

He grabs the rope and eyeballs the length he’ll need to restrain Peter’s wrists the way he wants to before setting to work. Its not difficult, at least not now, to get the knot right and pull it as tight as he wants it. “Snap your fingers,” Tony tells him. Peter does so without difficulty and he nods. “Good. If you’re in any kind of trouble, snap your fingers,” he tells him.

“What if I like… have to pee,” Peter says.

Tony snorts at the practicality of the question. “Then snap your fingers, I’ll take the gag off, and then you can pee. This is not complicated,” he says, grinning down at him.

“I’m just saying, that’s hardly trouble,” Peter tells him, nose wrinkled.

“Don’t be a brat,” Tony says, “and open your mouth.” He does, without complaint and isn’t that just fucking precious. He misses this, someone who’s so pliant and willing to do what he wants when he wants. Within reason, obviously. He sticks the knot in Peter’s mouth and ties it behind his head. “You good?” he asks. He already knows the answer from the look on Peter’s face but the nod is good confirmation. “Good,” he murmurs, settling a hand on Peter’s back again. “I’m going to tie your arms up to about here, okay?” he asks, touching the spot just above Peter’s elbow. Peter gives him a soft mood of affirmation and Tony nods before he starts to work.

Its quick work, but its methodical- requires a level of talent with the rope to make it do what he wants. He can do fancier work than what he’s doing now but his goal is only partly aesthetically driven. He wants to see Peter look nice, but he also likes the busywork of it, the way it can distract his brain a little as he winds down for the day. His job is stressful, mostly because he makes a point to be more involved with his company than a lot of other CEO’s he knows probably because he’s a bit of a control freak. He hasn’t taken a vacation in over two years and he probably needs one all things considered but he has this and this helps. Especially when Peter looks like that, yes half lidded as he makes small noises of contentment while Tony ties the knots.

The red rope stands out against the black of Peter’s sweater, bright against it and conveniently a perfect match to his skirt. He’d wonder, if not for the obvious honesty, if Peter had dabbled in women’s clothing before given his ability to match things and gauge his size right. Its been a long time since someone so immediately good at this, someone so obviously compatible with his wants, has come into his life and he’s fully prepared to milk it for all its worth. He likes the time he gets with his subs, the way the dynamic works between them as they give and take what they need for each other. He likes Peter specifically.

“You look so pretty for me like this,” he murmurs to Peter as he loops the last bit of rope around his upper arms. Peter makes a small hum of affirmation and Tony smiles down at him, “you handled this better than I thought you would,” he murmurs. Peter raises an eyebrow at him looking almost offended. “Relax, I thought you’d do fine. Didn’t anticipate you liking it as much as you did. Maybe next time I’ll tie up your legs too, have you sit pretty for me for awhile,” he murmurs. Peter lets out a soft whine, hips tilting into the bed and Tony raises an eyebrow. “Are you getting off on this?” he asks. He gets an irritated huff out of Peter, like he’s annoyed to have been found out but its useful information actually. “Don’t be shy now, baby, its not like I mind. Makes taking care of you easier if I know what you like,” he points out.

After a quiet, tense moment Peter finally nods and hmm. “I’m going to sit you up on your knees, okay?” Peter nods and Tony moves off the back of his legs so Peter can shift, tucking his legs underneath himself with some minor difficulty. Tony places a hand on his shoulder and grips the knots tying Peter’s arms together and pulls him up, earning a soft gasp out of Peter when he pulls on the rope. His hands clench a little and so does his jaw as Tony shifts him into a more comfortable position. He reaches up and unties his tie, pulling it from Peter’s mouth and earning a dirty look for it.

“Put that back!” he says, almost offended about it.

Tony grins as he sets it aside, “I will in a minute, gorgeous, but I’d like to explore this apparently newfound love of bondage first,” he murmurs as he settles a hand on Peter’s thigh. Peter leans back into him, fully relaxed and that’s curious but not in a bad way. “You sure this is the first time you’ve done this?” he asks.

“Pretty sure I’d have known if I got into this before. Probably would have, if I knew how much I liked it,” he murmurs.

He nods, “and there’s another thing. What do you like about this, hmm?”

Peter gives him another dirty look but its a fair question. When he raises an eyebrow Peter gets the point that he’s supposed to respond. He gives Peter a moment while he shifts a little uncomfortably, perhaps uncomfortable with someone telling him to verbalize his desire. He’s been there, he gets it, but he needs to know what Peter likes so he can better tailor their scenes to both of their tastes. “I like the restriction,” he says eventually. “And I like the lack of control.”

That’s interesting, liking the lack of control given that Peter seemed to have been a little put off by that when they went over the stuff Tony liked. But sometimes people feel differently when they try something than when they read about it. “Flesh that out for me, the lack of control you like. What is it exactly that you like about it?”

“Kind of what’s on the tin,” Peter tells him and Tony pulls the ropes attached to his arms back a little, jostling him. Peter lets out a sharp gasp, biting his lip as his breathing picks up. Well, there’s a reaction.

“Don’t give me attitude, Peter,” he murmurs.

“Sorry,” Peter mumbles back and Tony raises an eyebrow. It takes a second for Peter to pick up what he’s trying to convey but he gets it after a moment and lets out a huff, “sorry, Mr. Stark.”

He decides to let the bit of attitude in that go because he’s always loved that, being called Mr. Stark in bed. No idea why, it should probably remind him of work the way ‘sir’ does, which is why he doesn’t use the popular honorific in scenes, but for whatever reason he can make the separation between work and something else with that particular title. “Good,” Tony murmurs, giving the underside of Peter’s jaw a kiss. “Now lets try that again. What is it about the lack of control that you like?”

Peter sits there for a moment, frowning. “I… don’t get what you’re asking, where’s the nuance in that that you see?” he’s asks.

Tony gives him another soft kiss, “thank you for asking. The headphones you wore when we first met, they’re a loss of control too but you didn’t like not being able to hear. What about this is different to you?”

That at least seems to help Peter out in regards to what he’s looking for. “I didn’t mind not being able to hear, it was just that I was stuck in total silence. It felt cold, isolated. This is like… the opposite of that. I like feeling restricted, like feeling the way you tie the knots. I like…” Peter trails off for a moment and Tony gives him time. “I like that I have no control, that you could do whatever you want to me.”

“Do you want that? Me to do whatever I want to you?” he asks. That had been something he seemed disinterested in too when they’d talked things over but Peter nods.

“Yes,” he breathes out softly, head tipped back a little as his eyes shut like imagining it is enough to get him going.

He presses a soft kiss to Peter’s jaw, “something to keep in mind for next time,” he murmurs.

“You can do it now, if you want,” Peter says, looking over his shoulder and fuck he looks gorgeous like that, half wrecked and Tony hasn’t even done much yet.

“Not right now baby, I want to ease you into this.” Peter pouts at him about it and Tony is sure he has no fucking clue what sub frenzy is so he’ll send him information on it later. For the moment he thinks he can swing Peter’s desire in his favor anyway. “You want me to put that gag back on?” he asks and Peter nods almost frantically.

“Yes,” he breathes out, squirming a little with desire and Tony smiles as he grabs the tie. He slips the knot back into Peter’s mouth and reties it behind his head before settling his hands on Peter’s thighs. He presses back into Tony, trying his best to look at him over his shoulder and only partially succeeding given that Tony is almost right behind him.

“So you like being tied up, hmm?” he murmurs as he moves his hands slowly up Peter’s thighs. Peter lets out a small whine and nods. “How about next time I tie your hands to your ankles wearing those pretty little boots of yours?” Peter’s head tips back and moans and Tony has to admit his reaction is probably almost as attractive as the real thing even if he won’t be sure of that until he sees it. “I’ll tie your legs too, just like this,” he says, fingers trailing softly up his folded legs, “make you sit there and beg for it until I think you’ve earned it.”

He doesn’t totally expect Peter to react but he’s more than happy when Peter’s eyes roll back and he lets out another moan though the tie. Begging seemed to be more his thing than Peter’s but he’s happy to trade off tying him up if it’ll get him what he wants. Shit, there’s a lot of things he’d trade off to see Peter like this. “Then,” he murmurs in Peter’s ear, “I’ll bend you over.” He tips Peter forward, hand on his neck as he presses him into the mattress and fuck the loud, extended moan Peter lets out is hot. “And touch you,” he says as he trails his fingers up the back of Peter’s thighs, toying with the edge of his skirt. Peter’s breathing has picked up and he shifts a little under Tony’s hand, making small noises of pleasure as his hand slips under his skirt.

He doesn’t anticipate the panties Peter is wearing under it and he moans, pressing his forehead to Peter’s back as he leans into his further. “God, you are so fucking perfect,” he tells Peter, “always managing to do some other little thing for me, hmm?” Peter lets out a small laugh, trying his best to wiggle his ass a little. “How do you feel about me teasing you like this, hmm? Seeing how far I can take you,” he murmurs as he cups Peter through the satin. He makes a high keening noise as he shifts his hips into Tony’s hand. “Yeah, I thought you’d like that. Could probably tease you for hours, bring you to the edge and back again until you’re so damn hungry for it you can’t even beg anymore.” Peter takes in a sharp inhale of breath and shifts his hips into Tony’s hand again. He massages Peter gently, feeling him through the soft material and smiling when Peter’s eyes flutter shut again.

“Next time I’ll use a proper gag, see what your pretty lips look like stretched over a ball gag for me. Wanna hear the way you sound when I fuck into you soft and slow, forced to move at my pace,” he murmurs. Peter whines, hips tilting into his hand as he tries desperately to draw in enough breath through his nose. “Bet you I could get you to cum like this, barely even touching you.” Peter nods frantically, whining again as he shivers. Tony smiles, “I’ll let you this one time, but after this you cum whenever the hell I tell you to, got that?” he asks and Peter lets out a loud moan, face curling into the mattress as he spills over those pretty panties of his, eyes rolling back in his head. “Good,” Tony murmurs, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Glad to see we understand each other.”

Peter is on cloud fucking nine and he didn’t even expect to like any of that except now he wants to do like all of it yesterday. Tony sent him more reading material but he’s neglected it in favor os savoring the feeling of Tony’s hand on the back of his neck pressing him into the mattress and fuck it’s going to be a long time before he can think of anything else jerking off. He’s excited for the next time Tony calls him over and he’s going to complain if Tony doesn’t do what he promised because he has needs, okay, and its cruel to neglect them. That’s like… workplace negligence or some shit, he’ll look it up later.

He’s so absorbed in his thoughts that the poke to his side results in him letting out a sharp yelp and tossing the plate he forgot was in his hand across the room. Liz, MJ, and Ned snort and start laughing. “Oh my god, its like those cat versus cucumber videos and Peter’s the cat!” Ned says, clutching his stomach as he laughs. He looks down and sure shit Liz is holding a fucking cucumber.

“Can you guys like… not?” he asks, hand on his hip.

“You’re cleaning that up,” MJ tells him, gesturing to his dinner, which is now on the floor. He sighs because that’s only fair but still, its rude to scare a guy when he’s daydreaming about hot men holding him down and fucking him silly. He feels he should be left in peace with his thoughts.

“This is like… treason and I’m calling the president,” Peter tells them.

Liz rolls her eyes, “jokes on you, the president hates gays so we’re all going to jail.”

#tony stark x peter parker #starker #alternate universe #fanfiction

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crackspinewornpages · 3 years

Text

Romeo and Juliet -William Shakespeare

Prologue

“Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona, were we lay our scene, from ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.”p.882 Then it completely spoils the play. (thanks assholes maybe some of us wanted to be surprised by a five hundred year old play that’s been adapted and referenced a million times)

A1S1

In Verona, Sampson and Gregory, servants of Capulet House, are walking with their swords and shit talking Montague House. How they will conquer the men in a fight and for the women, “The heads of the maids?” “Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads;”-“Me thy shall feel while I am able to stand; and ‘tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh.”p.882 (seriously Shakespeare makes so many dick and sex jokes how could anyone think his stuff is high brow) They draw their swords as Abraham and Balthazar of Montague House enter and Sampson goads them into fighting by biting his thumb at them. (like flipping the bird) “Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?” “I do bite my thumb sir.”p.883 A fight breaks out, Benvolio tries to break it up and Tybalt of Capulet House fights him, then it’s a full on street brawl and the wives of Capulet and Montague have to hold back their husbands.

The Prince and his train arrive, and he commands them to stop on pain of torture and declares the Capulet and Montagues fighting has disturbed the peace too many times. “If ever you disturb our streets again your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.”p.883 He says he’ll speak to the heads of the houses later and everyone but the Montagues and Benvolio leave as he explains to them how the fight started. Lady Montague asks where her son Romeo is, he saw him earlier walking sadly through the sycamore trees, their son has been wallowing in misery and locking himself in his room all day, isn’t new to them. (well he is a teenager) They don’t know why their son is acting like this and Benvolio will talk to him and find out.

Benvolio meets his cousin Romeo asking him what’s wrong, he’s miserable because of love and Benvolio follows to get the story. He loves a woman, Benvolio isn’t surprised, Rosaline has other ideas. “Well, in that hit you miss: she’ll not be hit with Cupid’s arrow; she hath Dian’s wit; and, in strong proof of chastity well arm’d, from love’s weak childish bow she lives unharm’d.”p.885 (girl swears a vow of chastity to avoid a creep total mood) Romeo says she’s too pretty, too wise, to refuse love, Benvolio tells him to forget her and move on. Romeo doubts Benvolio can get him to forget her and Benvolio takes it as a challenge.

A1S2

In the street Capulet is talking to Paris and a servant about how they have to keep the peace and Paris asks about his offer, but Capulet isn’t sure. “my child is yet a stranger in the world, she hath not seen the change of fourteen years;”p.885 (Juliet is thirteen) Wait until she’s fifteen (that’s not better) Paris argues that there’s already happy mothers younger than her. (11, 12 these girls aren’t mothers they’re dead) Capulet says she’s his only surviving child but Paris can start to woo her at a masque he’s having. As they leave Capulet gives the servant, Peter an invitation list, unfortunately he can’t read. Romeo and Benvolio come by still arguing about Romeo forgetting Rosaline when Peter asks him to read the letter. Then Peter invites Romeo to the party and Benvolio thinks it’s a good idea since Rosaline will be there. “Compare her face with some that shall show, and I will make thee think thy swan a crow.”p.886 Romeo will go just to see Rosaline.

A1S3

In a room in the Capulet House Lady Capulet and a Nurse wonder where Juliet is, she comes and Lady Capulet wants to talk to her. The Nurse starts a story on how Juliet was the butt of a sex joke (Juliet is thirteen) and Juliet has to tell her to stop. “Thou wast the prettiest babe that e’er I nursed: and I might live to see thee married once, I have my wish.”p.887 Lady Capulet says that’s the point and asks Juliet what she thinks, Juliet never really thought of it. (because she’s thirteen) Lady Capulet tells her she gave birth to her at her age (you got pregnant and gave birth at thirteen the damage it can do it doesn’t surprise me Juliet is your only surviving child) and Paris has shown interest. (because he’s a creep) He’ll be at the party tonight and Juliet says she’ll see if she loves him and a servant comes to tell them it’s starting, and the Nurse tells her. “Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.”p.887

A1S4

In the street Romeo, Mercutio and Benvolio are wearing masks and gather with the other guests. Romeo worries about crashing the Capulet party, Benvolio isn’t concerned, “let them measure us by what they will, we’ll measure them a measure, and be gone.”p.888 Romeo says he won’t dance and Mercutio makes sex jokes but Romeo says he had a bad dream about the party. Mercutio starts a story of the fairy Queen Mab (Oberon’s mother) who visits dreams until Romeo stops him, Mercutio says its just fantasy. Benvolio says its time to go and Romeo still has concerns, “I fear too early; for my mind misgives some consequence yet having in the stars shall bitterly begin his fearful date with this nights’ revels, and expire the term of a despised life clos’d in my breast be some vile forfeit of untimely death.”p.889 (foreshadowing)

A1S5

In Capulet’s halls servants are bustling to prepare and set some food aside for themselves. Capulet and Juliet make rounds with him welcoming guests and encouraging them to dance. Romeo sees Juliet and asks a servant who she is he says she’s too beautiful, “Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.”p.889 (so what was all that about Rosaline who we ever meet) Tybalt hears him and knows he’s a Montague and wants to fight him Capulet hears and tells him to leave Romeo alone as he’s well liked, Tybalt will let him go now but won’t let this transgression pass. (well aren’t you a little murder kitten)

Romeo meets Juliet they flirt and kiss until the Nurse comes to tell her her mother wants her. Romeo then finds out she is a Capulet and is devastated. Juliet asks her Nurse to find out who Romeo is and if he is married and the Nurse tells her he is a Montague. “My only love sprung from my only hate! Too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love it is to me, that I must love a loathed enemy.”p.891 (it’s your parents that are enemies for an undisclosed reason not you two)

Prologue (again)

Describes their love and how their affection is young, “with tender Juliet match’d, as now not fair. Now Rome is belov’d and loves again, alike bewitched by the charm of looks, “p.891 (so Juliet is young and Romeo falls in an out of love by looks) But their families are enemies so it will be difficult.

A2S1

At a wall by the Capulet’s orchard Romeo is conflicted with his feelings and climbs over the wall as Mercutio and Benvolio come by. They call for him and Benvolio guesses he jumped the wall and Mercutio mocks his love for Rosaline trying to anger him. Benvolio says he’s hiding in the trees, “blind is love and best benefits the dark.” “If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.”p.891 (stay classy guys) They decide to leave him.

A2S2

In the orchard Romeo says their words don’t hurt him, then sees Juliet in the window and soliloquys about her beauty, (you know comparing her thirteen year old hotness to a summer’s day) wishing he were her glove so her could touch her cheek. Juliet then starts talking to herself, why does Romeo have to be a Montague. “Deny thy father, and refuse thy name; or; if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I’ll no longer be a Capulet.”p.892 But his name is an enemy what is a Montague, “what’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet; so Romeo would,”p.892 Romeo calls out to her and she asks how he got there, he says love led him there and stone and kinsmen wouldn’t stop him. Juliet worries for his safety if he’s caught and asks if he loves her, she knows he’ll say yes but he has to say it faithfully.

He starts to swear by the moon, but she says not to since it changes, if he swears on himself she’ll believe him. He starts too but she stops him, “it is too rash, too unadvis’d, too sudden; too like lightning, which doth cease to be ere one can say it lightens.”p.893 (almost aware that they are moving too fast) Romeo assures her and they confess their love and to meet again as Juliet goes to her Nurse who called. She comes back telling him to propose marriage tomorrow (yep definitely too rash and sudden) and they decide she’ll send for him at nine. As they part she wishes he was a blind bird tied with a string to her beck and call and he wishes her were that bird. “Sweet, so would I: yet I should kill thee with much cherihings.”p.894 (foreshadowing)

A2S3

I Friar Laurence’s cell he’s musing on plants when Romeo enters and he knows he did sleep that night. Romeo says it’s true but he wasn’t with Rosaline, already forget her name. He says he crashed the Montague party and fell in love with Juliet and wants to marry her today. Laurence says that’s quite the change as, “Young men’s love then lies not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.”p.894 He points out that Romeo’s cheeks are still tear stained over Rosaline, Romeo says it was childish of him, he’s buried that love he really loves Juliet and she him. (you are a romantic that falls in and out of love all the time and this is the first girl who’s shown you interest a naïve thirteen your old girl) Lawrence is skeptical but agrees to marry them.

A2S4

In a street Mercutio and Benvolio are still looking for Romeo, Benvolio says Tybalt sent a letter to challenge Romeo. Mercutio says he’s already dead from unrequited love and doubts his ability to answer Tybalt. Mercutio insults Tybalt’s name (apparently it was a popular cat name) and his fighting skills then Romeo arrives and apologizes for skipping out on them ignoring their jibes and claims of Rosaline being prettier than ancient beauties. They start making sex jokes until the Nurse and Peter enter looking for Romeo and Mercutio and Benvolio leave to have dinner at the Montagues. The Nurse warns Romeo to stay loyal and not to double deal Romeo swears he’s not. He says to tell Juliet to come at noon to Friar Laurence’s to be married and the Nurse says she’ll make a cloth ladder so they can have a wedding night. (she’s thirteen)

A2S5

In the Capulet garden Juliet is worried that it’s a half hour past nine and her Nurse isn’t back yet. Finally, she comes and Juliet presses her for news and why is she sad. The Nurse says he got tired and to wait but caves into Juliet’s pestering. The Nurse says Romeo is a good looking man and thinks he’s gentle, but Juliet wants news on the marriage. The Nurse complains about her aches until Juliet apologizes but she still wants to know the Nurse says to do her messages herself and to go to the Friar Laurence to marry and she’ll make a ladder for them. (eugh)

A2S6

In Friar Laurence’s cell, Lawrence and Romeo wait for Juliet and Romeo declares he doesn’t care about any misfortune from this compared to the joy he feels now. Friar Laurence warns him, “These violent delights have violent ends, and in their triumph die, like fire and powder, which as they kiss consume:”p.898 (translated don’t let your wild emotions get the best of you it usually ends quickly and badly) Juliet then arrives and they speak poetically of their love until Laurence hurries them to get married.

A3S1

In public Mercutio, Benvolio and some servants convene and Benvolio suggests they go inside and the heat will biol men’s blood to fight, Mercutio says he has a quick temper as anyone and shouldn’t judge. Tybalt arrives with others and calls that he’s looking for Romeo and the begin to taunt him wen Romeo appears. Tybalt calls Romeo a villain, Romeo claims he has a reason to love him and won’t fight but Tybalt wont have it. “I do protest I never injur’d thee, but love thee better than thou canst devise, till thou shalt know the reason of my love:”p.899 (Romeo’s a good dude y’know despite falling in love with a thirteen year old he won’t fight because they’re family now) He now loves the name Capulet but Mercutio has enough and draws his sword to fight. Romeo pleads for them to stop as the Prince forbade fighting in the street but they don’t listen and Mercutio is fatally wounded.

It’s not too deep or wide but it’ll do enough and curses both the Montagues and Capulets. “A plauge o’ both your houses!”-“Why the devil! Come you between us?”p.900 (because he didn’t want your dumbass to die) Romeo says he was trying to stop them and Mercutio dies cursing them. Now angry, Romeo claims his love for Juliet made him effeminate (…really) and tells Tybalt one of them has to die. They fight and he kills Tybalt, (congratulations Romeo married all of what two hours and just killed your wife’s cousin) but it roused the citizens and Benvolio tells him to run as the Prince will have him killed.

The Prince arrives with the Montagues and Capulets asking what started it all. Benvolio tells him, “I can discover all the unlucky mange of this fatal brawl: there lies the man, slain by young Romeo, that slew thy kinsmen, brave Mercutio.”p.900 Lady Capulet demands Romeo’s death for killing her nephew and Benvolio explains Tybalt started the fight, Romeo tried to stop it but Tybalt killed Mercutio under Romeo’s arm and Romeo killed him in revenge and fled. Lady Capulet says he’s lying because he’s a Montague and wants justice, but the Prince isn’t sure. “Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio; who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?”p.900 So he exiles Romeo and won’t hear pleas or excuses, if he returns he will be killed. (funny you say that)

A3S2

In the Capulet’s orchard Juliet waits for Romeo and wants it to be night already so he can come over. The Nurse comes in distraught and stumbles over her words saying he’s dead and Juliet thinks she means Romeo killed himself. The Nurse says Tybalt and Juliet thinks he killed Romeo, finally the Nurse tells her Tybalt is dead and Romeo is banished for it, Juliet curses nature. “Was ever a book containing such vile matter so fairly bound? O! That deceit should dwell in such a gorgeous place.”p.902 The Nurse curses that there is no faith and honest in men and Romeo Juliet denounces her for criticizing her husband. (so what only you can insult your husband) “My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; and Tybalt’s dead, that would have slain my husband: all this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?”p.902 She decides Romeo’s banishment is worse since it’s before her wedding night and she’ll die a virgin, (apparently the worst thing ever) the Nurse she’ll bring him and Juliet gives her a ring to give to him.

A3S3

In Friar Laurence’s cell, Lawrence calls to Romeo to come out and tells him the Prince banished him and Romeo says that’s worse than death since he can’t see Juliet. (omg can’t see my girlfriend of two days this is the worst thing ever) Lawrence tries to make him feel better by saying he’ll help but Romeo flails on the ground. (I bet Laurence is thinking long and hard at this point about why he even associates with this kid) They hear knocking and Lawrence tells him to get up as the Nurse enters with news for Romeo. He worries that Julie thinks he’s a murderer, the Nurse says she said nothing but cries and Romeo is distraught he caused her this pain and asks Lawrence where he should stab himself. (woah woah woah calm down) Lawrence scolds him for acting unmanly, so quickly to hate himself they’re both alive. “Rouse thee, man; thy Juliet is alive, for those dear sake thou wast but lately dead; there act thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee, but thout slew’st Tybalt; there art thou happy too:”p.904 Go to her chamber and comfort her (she’s thirteen I’m getting my nail bat) and reconcile, the Nurse gives him the ring Laurence then tells him to hide in Mantua until news of their marriage spreads and Romeo feels better.

A3S4

In the Capulet House the Capulets and Paris are talking, Capulet says because of Tybalt’s death he hasn’t had time to talk to Juliet about the marriage to Paris. Paris bemoans he had no time to woo her and Lady Capulet says she’ll find out what she thinks by tomorrow. Capulet wants Paris to try but thinks his wife will do better to tell her she’ll be married on Thursday and Paris wishes it were tomorrow. (Hi, Paris, I’m Chris Hansen, have a seat)

A3S5

In Juliet’s chamber it’s morning and Juliet tries to convince Romeo it’s still night, but he says he can’t stay or he’ll be put to death. Juliet says the light is just a meteor and Romeo says he’ll stay if it kills him but Juliet changes her mind, “O! Now be gone; more light and light it grows.” “More light and light; more dark and dark our woes.”p.905 The Nurse warns her mother is coming and they hurry farewells but as he descends Juliet sees he looks pale, “I have an ill-diving soul: methinks I see thee, now thou art so low, as one dead in the bottom of a tomb:”p.905 (foreshadowing) She wishes he’ll come back soon and wonders what her mother wants.

Lady Capulet thinks she’s been crying over her cousin but she says it’s feelings of loss, “Well, girl, thou weep’st not so much for his death, as that thy villain lives which slaughtered him.”p.905 Juliet says he’s been banished she grieves but pardons him, Lady Capulet wants vengeance and will send someone to Mantua to kill Romeo. Juliet says she won’t be satisfied until she holds Romeo and if her mother has poison, she’d temper it so Romeo would sleep. (heh funny you should say that) Lady Capulet continues to misinterpret but changes the subject to joyful news that she’ll be married on Thursday to Paris. Juliet says he won’t make her a joyful bride, tell her father if she weds it will be Romeo, Lady Capulet says to tell her father herself.

Capulet enters with the Nurse and Lady Capulet tells him Juliet won’t have it, “I would the devil were married to her grave!”p.907 (be careful what you wish for) Capulet calls her ungrateful and threatens to drag her to church on Thursday to be married to Paris. Juliet asks for him to listen but he keeps calling her names and threatens to disown her, instead of a blessing she is a curse. (kid won’t do one thing so threatening them and calling them ungrateful is the obvious immediate reasonable action of a loving father to his only child) The Nurse says he’s also to blame, he gets mad at her too and starts ranting that he just found Juliet a noble husband and here she says she doesn’t want to wed. She will be wed on Thursday or she will be in the streets when he leaves Juliet asks her mother to talk to him, “delay this marriage for a month, a week; or, if you do not, make the bridal bed in that dim monument where Tybalt lies.”p.907 (really beating over the head with the foreshadowing) Her mother won’t help her and follows her husband.

Juliet wants her Nurse to help, the Nurse thinks it’s better for her to marry Paris (you also had a hand in this also she’s already married) as Romeo is banished, is as good as dead. (hmm) Juliet pretends to listen and says she’s going to confession at Friar Laurence’s cell. In reality she won’t listen to her any more and wants his help. “I’ll to the friar, to know his remedy: if all else fail, myself have power to die.”p.908

A4S1

In Laurence’s cell he’s talking to Paris about his marriage to Juliet, it’s too soon, he doesn’t know how Juliet feels, (she’s already married) he doesn’t like it. Paris says Juliet is upset by Tybalt’s death, little time for talk of love and her father thinks it’s best. Juliet arrives and is indifferent to Paris who’s arrogant of her love until Laurence has him leave. Alone together, Juliet asks for help, he already knows she’s to be married Thursday, Juliet pulls out a knife and says if he can’t fix things she’ll kill herself. (why are these kids so quick to kill themselves) Laurence tells her to stop, (please) he has a solution, she’ll do anything not to marry Paris, (except tell everyone she’s already married or join Romeo in Mantua but she is thirteen (I’ll go to my grave reminding people of this) what kid at that age has good ideas) he tells her to pretend to agree to it then take this draught to make her appear dead and Romeo will come for her. He’ll write him a letter to come and take her to Mantua Juliet takes the draught.

A4S2

Juliet returns home and tells her father she went to confession and to repent her disobedience and asks for forgiveness. Capulet is glad for the change and orders Paris be fetched as he’s so happy he’s moving the wedding to Wednesday. The Capulets have her Nurse prepare her as they plan for tomorrow. (good thing they’re planning this themselves hate to see a Wedding Planner’s rates for a wedding scheduled in less than 24 hours)

A4S3

In her chambers Juliet has her Nurse leave her and dismisses her mother as she wants to be alone, surely they are already so busy. Alone, Juliet wonders what will happen when she drinks the drought, if it doesn’t work she’ll be married, (illegally since bigamy is against the law) but she still has her dagger. He could be poisoning her to hide his role in marrying Romeo but she won’t think of it, but if she wakes before Romeo arrives she’ll be terrified in that vault with Tybalt’s ghost. (why not just run off to Mantua) For Romeo he drinks it and falls on her bed.

A4S4

In Capulet’s hall the Capulets are giving orders and send the Nurse to wake Juliet.

A4S5

The Nurse enters her chamber but can’t wake her and is in denial at first then calls for help. Lady Capulet comes and cries that Juliet was her only life (then what was that whole thing last night) and calls for help, they cry to Capulet that Juliet is dead and he’s in shock. (and they don’t notice the knife or bottle on her bed) Friar Laurence, Paris and some musicians enter and Capulet tells them Juliet died in the night. “Death is my son-in-law, Death is my heir; my daughter hath wedded: I will die, and leave him all; life, living, all is Death’s!”p.911 They all cry until Friar Laurence basically to stop crying and reminds them she’s in heaven (if I was a parent and found my kid dead and you told me that you would not have a jaw anymore) and Capulet has the wedding changed to a funeral, how everything for a wedding can be used in a funeral, (yeah but if you invite people to a wedding and it turns out to be a funeral they’re going to be pretty upset but not in the way you’d expect) and Laurence ushers everyone out. Peter asks the musicians to play a happy tune to ease his sorrowful heart the musicians refuse and wait for lunch. (I actually remember our teacher having us skip this part because it had nothing to do with the plot)

A5S1

In Mantua Romeo talks cheerfully about a dream he had, “I dreamt my lady came and found me dead;-strange dream, that gives a dead man leave to think,-and breath’d such life with kisses in my lips, that I reviv’d, and was an emporer.”p.913 (hmmm) Balthazar comes to him and Romeo asks him news of Juliet and Baltazar says he saw her dead and laid in a vault. Romeo wants to leave immediately but Balthazar says he’s distraught and could cause misadventure (practically every level headed character is telling them not to act rashly if only these kids would have listened) and when asked for news from the friar he has none and Romeo sends him for horses.

Romeo says he will lie with Juliet tonight and calls an apothecary and pays him forty docuts for poison. The Apothecary says selling such drugs is illegal, Romeo says he’s too poor to refuse and the apothecary gives in. “There is thy gold, worse poison to men’s souls, doing more murders in this loathsome world than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell: I sell thee poison , thou hast sold me none.”p.913 (so much said in one short scene)

A5S2

In Friar Laurence’s cell Friar John visits as he sent him to deliver the letter of Juliet to Romeo. John says he couldn’t send it because after a sickness he was quarantined, (yeah it’s shit when that happens) and Laurence is upset because of the danger when Juliet wakes and no one is there. He sends John to get a crowbar as he writes another letter to Romeo.

A5S3

At the Capulet family vault Paris is bringing flowers for Juliet (sounds like a lovely song) until his page whistles that someone is coming. Romeo is coming with Baltazar and tells him he came to take a ring back from Juliet and to go and deliver a letter to his parents, Balthazar takes it but doesn’t believe Romeo and stays to watch. Romeo opens the tomb and Paris sees and thinks he’s about to do something to the corpses and goes to stop him. Romeo tells him to leave him alone, Paris won’t and they draw swords and Paris is killed (play stupid games win stupid prizes) and the page runs off to get someone. Romeo honors Paris’s request and lays him beside Juliet and he wonders how she can still look beautiful in death and asks for Tybalt’s forgiveness. “Death , that hath suck’d the honey of thy breath, hath had no power yet upon thy beauty: thou art not conquer’d; beauty’s ensign yet is crimson in thy lips and thy cheeks, and death’s pale flag is not advanced there.”p.915 (dude check for a pulse or stop being dramatic and a wait a few minutes because if it doesn’t look like a duck swim like a duck or quack like a duck then she’s probably not fucking dead)

Romeo takes the poison and kisses Juliet and he dies just as Laurence enters the churchyard and finds Balthazar. He asks whose lantern is in the Capulet vault, Romeo’s, and Balthazar follows him. They take in the scene of Paris and Romeo dead just as Juliet wakes up asking for Romeo. Laurence tells her he’s dead and he’ll take her to stay with nuns and with her refusing to leave and fearful of the watch, he leaves without her. Juliet sees Romeo took poison and there’s none left for her, “I will kiss thy lips; haply, some poison yet doth hang on them, to make me die with a restorative. “p.916 It doesn’t work so she takes his dagger and stabs herself and dies before the watch comes with the page, they call the scene a pity and send for the Montagues. (to think all of this could have been avoided if she had a sassy gay friend too bad Mercutio was already dead)

The watch returns with Balthazar, Laurence, the Prince and the Capulets. Lady Capulet says people in the streets are yelling about Romeo, Juliet and Paris, and their monument. The watch describes the scene and the Prince demands an explanation and the watch tells him what happened and Capulet sees his supposed dead daughter bleeding. (this is why you check for a pulse beforehand) Montague enters telling the Prince his wife died from grief because Romeo was an exile (she died from grief her son was in the next city she could have easily visited this is just tacked on to add to the tragedy isn’t it) the Prince tells him to look and to not rage until everything is cleared up.

Friar Laurence comes forward, “Romeo, there dead, was the husband to that Juliet; and she, there dead, that Romeo’s faithful wife:”p.917 (faithful they were married for like a day and a half) He married them before Tybalt’s death and Romeo’s banishment. Juliet wouldn’t marry Paris, he gave her a drought and wrote to Romeo to come get her, but he didn’t receive it, so he came and saw Romeo and Paris dead. Juliet then woke but wouldn’t go with him and killed herself (because you knew this girl was suicidal and didn’t stay to stop her) the Nurse will vouge for him.

Balthazar says he told Romeo of Juliet’s death and they came and Romeo gave him a letter for his parents before he went into the vault, the page says Paris came to lay flowers. The Prince says the letter proves everything, Romeo came to die with Juliet, and he calls out the families, “See what a scourge is laid upon your hate, that heaven finds means to kill your joys with love; and I, for winking at your discords too, have lost a brace of kinsmen: all are punish’d.”p.917 (see what letting shit get out of hand and ignoring it causes) There children sacrificed, the families make amends, the Prince notes the sun wont shine and has them make peace elsewhere, “for never was a story of more woe that this of Juliet and her Romeo.”p.918 (there’s a lot I could say but I think KrimsonRogue (9:17-10:23) summed it up best)

(”Don’t waste your love, on somebody who doesn’t value it.” this quote as been attributed to Shakespeare and this play but I couldn’t find it or a proper source so I guess it’s just one of those made up internet things)

#romeo and juliet #william shakespeare #books #book summaries #play #romance #tragedy

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levi-inthesun · 4 years

Text

You and Me, Together - Chapter 3

Background: You and your brother Peter were adopted by Tony and Pepper Potts-Stark when you were both teenagers. You’ve been dating Quentin Beck since your sophomore year of college and things (seem) to be looking up… until they aren’t.

Pairing: Quentin Beck x Parker!Reader eventual!someone x Parker!Reader

Social Media AU/mix, College AU, Friends to Lovers

Title/plot inspo: You & Me Together by the 1975

General Warnings: Swearing, angst, cheating

“Fuck,” you breathed as you forced your eyes open and stretched. Something didn’t seem right. You looked around the room and realized it wasn’t your room and panic began to build inside you. You looked down to see you were dressed in a familiar t-shirt that was too big for you and a pair of similarly too big sweat pants. You glanced around the room again and recognized the posters on the wall and the large bookcase filled to the bring. “Bucky?” You called out, voice raspy.

A voice came from the floor to your left, “Keep your voice fucking down,” he whined.

“Oh thank god!” you sighed in relief as you flopped off the bed and onto one of your closest friends. “I was terrified I went home with some random dude, because.... you know.”

Bucky let out an annoyed huff as your body weight landed on him but was quick to wrap his arms around you reassuringly. “Trust me, even drunk you isn’t capable of even minutely breaking trust, let alone cheating.”

You nodded as tears of relief prickled at your eyes. “Okay, good. Thank you.” You rolled to the side so you were facing your friend. “So are you going to fill me in on what happened last night?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. But let's not waste a perfectly comfy bed by staying on the floor?”

Once you two were settled and had drunk some water, Bucky began to fill you in.

After you and Carol had had your fill of Joe’s delicious, orgasmic pizza, you both skipped over to the bar where most of your friends were waiting. You had spotted Steve and Sam first, flirting with each other at the bar while they ordered drinks, everyone else was at your normal booth.

Carol decided she’d grab drinks for the two of you since you had insisted on paying for pizza and you continued on to the booth.

“Hey guys,” you greeted and Bucky scooted towards the wall so you could sit.

“Y/N!” Pietro yelled a bit too loudly, “You are here!” Pietro then basically climbed over the table to leave a wet kiss on your forehead. “I was getting bored without you!” he pouted. Wanda, Bucky, and Nat all rolled their eyes.

“Whatever,” you retorted, “You are just going to go home with that hot redhead sitting by the bar anyways in about an hour, I think you’d have lived.”

Pietro eyed the bar, catching a glimpse of the redhead you had mentioned.

“Fuck, why do you have to know me so well?” he asked and you just shrugged in response.

Then Carol, Steve, and Sam showed up with drinks and french fries, Carol sitting next to you, sliding your rum and coke over.

Conversation flowed throughout the evening and once you were another drink or so in, you turned to Bucky with an eyebrow raised.

“No,” he said, knowing exactly what you were about to propose. “No way, Y/N.”

“Whatever, Bucky,” you scoffed, “You’re just afraid to lose to me again.”

“Uh, pretty sure your memory is mistaken,” Nat piped up. “You have never won a drinking contest... like ever.”

“Uh, please keep the facts to yourself, Natalia, I almost had him,” you said, voice hushed.

Bucky just laughed, full and hearty. The kind of laugh that only came out after he’d had a few drinks and could relax. “Not doing it,” he reiterated.

“How about this,” you countered. “Whoever wins gets to have the sleepover at their place and the loser has to buy the winner coffee for a week.”

Bucky eyed you suspiciously, “I know you think you have something up your sleeve because you LOVE having sleepovers at your place and not mine. But I am not going to do this because I would feel like I am taking advantage of you because of the fact that you are a lightweight.”

“Does that mean you concede?” You asked with an eyebrow raised. “You know the rules, either participate or concede.”

“Fuck.” Bucky sighed.

That is how he found a line of shots in front of him, you across the table with the same, despite the fact that literally, everyone tried to talk you out of this.

And then, just as everyone (except you) anticipated, Bucky won (yet again) and you got pouty, taking your phone out to text your boyfriend.

Quentin looked up from his phone sighing before he noticed he had missed a voicemail from last night. He moved out of the walkway and sat down on a bench, having just gotten out of class and he hit play.

“Quennnnnnntiiiiiiiiin,” your voice sang. “I am soooo sad we c-couldn’t get pizza together, but I went w-with Carol and then the bar with everyone and I wish you would hang out with all of us again BUT ANYWAYS I lost the drinking c-contest and am gonna get dropped off and Bucket’s house CAUSE WE ARE HAVING A SLEEEEEPOOOOOOVEEERRRRRRR.” In the background, he could hear Bucky laughing and calling to you. “Anyways I looooooooove youuuuuuuu!” and then the voicemail ended.

Frustration began to build inside Quentin as his fists clenched at his side. All the looks you and inside jokes you and Bucky shared flashed behind his eyes and soon he found himself losing control and in a jealous rage. He stood up quickly and made his way to his motorbike, throwing on his helmet before zooming off of campus and to Bucky’s apartment.

As he weaved through minimal afternoon traffic and before he knew it he was at Bucky’s door.

You and Bucky were sitting on the floor in the living room eating pancakes when someone began pounding on the door. Bucky quickly got up and opened it.

“Is my girlfriend here?” he demanded.

Bucky looked at him, a puzzled expression on his features, “Yeah, man, she’s in the living room,” he said as he opened the door wider and moved out of the way for Quentin to enter.

“Quentin!” You greeted him, mid-bite of Bucky’s famous, hangover-curing, pancakes.”What are you doing here?” You set your plate down and stood up to go hug your boyfriend.

“Did you sleep with him?” Quentin asked voice low and dangerous.

You stared at him as if hed struck you in response for a moment. “Quentin, do you fucking realize who you’re talking to?”

Something in the back of his mind itched and he struggled through memories to remember why you liked like he had just slapped you across the face. He watched as you scrubbed your hands over your eyes and wrapped your arms around your middle.

Fuck.

“Fuck,” Quentin breathed as he took a tentative step forward, testing the waters before he closed the distance and wrapped his arms around you. “I am so sorry baby,” he whispered into your hair. “I was being dumb and jealous and I can’t believe I had forgotten.”

You and Quentin had met in the dorms freshman year. You were dating your high school boyfriend, Brock and you were excited about life and still a bit naive. Brock was in one of the fraternities, but you could never remember which one. Your friendship with Quentin began to grow and you knew you could count on him and he could count on you. You shared late-night study sessions with Wanda and her twin brother Pietro, game nights with this new group of friends that was quickly forming, adding in some of your friends you’d had since childhood, including Bucky, Steve, Carol, and Natalia. Brock would make appearances whenever he didn’t have commitments to the frat and would spend the night at your dorm as often as he could.

Brock had been your first kiss, your first love, your first everything, and you could imagine him being a part of the rest of your life.

Except one day he stopped picking up the phone and he stopped coming over. He offered no explanation and figured you wouldn’t get one until one day, you saw him making out with one of the girls from the sorority his frat did events with, you think her name is Sharon.

You walked over to them calmly, “Brock,” you called, voice clipped and authoritative, much to your surprise. Brock turned to you, one hand holding her face, the other on her ass.

“What,” he asked, rolling his eyes when he saw you.

“I’m guessing this is why you dropped out of my life?” You spat, desperately trying to hold yourself together.

“Yep.” “FUCK JUST WHY?” You yelled, drawing more attention than you would have liked.

“Because I have been bored with you since senior year of high school, Y/N. The only reason I stuck around after that was because you finally let me fuck you. I’ve been seeing Sharon since freshman orientation,” he said with an eye roll, and Sharon looked at you like you were gum stuck to her shoe.

You felt the tears finally fall and you began to run away as fast as you could. You stopped when your lungs began to burn and the world began to cave in around you.

Quentin ran faster than he thought possible across campus, not noticing when he bumped into people. The weird hand statue came into view and then he saw you, huddled into yourself on the ground, sobs rippling through you and other students near you tried to figure out what to do.

“Y/n,” he called to you softly, desperately trying to pull you out of yourself. “Hey, you are going to be okay, I just need you to look at me.”

You finally forced your head to look up into his blue eyes and listened as he helped you out of your panic attack. “Just breath with me, alright?” he asked, placing one of your hands on his chest, the other on your own. You nodded and forced your lungs to breathe deeper, slower.

Soon, the edges of your world went from black and suffocating to soft and filled with his eyes and his smile and his voice. He helped you up from the ground and helped you get to your dorm where you finally told him everything. He spent the next few months helping you put yourself back together with the help of your other friends.

“Y/N, will you forgive me?” Quentin asked, his eyes begging, tinged with something you couldn’t place.

“I just...” you broke away from him. “I need a bit of time. You know how badly Brock hurt me, you were there and you know.”

Quentin nodded and placed a soft kiss on your cheek before exiting Bucky’s apartment.

#quentin beck #quentin beck x reader #quentin beck fanfiction #quentin beck fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfiction #avengers #the avengers #avengers fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #steve rogers #sam wilson #carol danvers #loki #friends to lovers #college au #social media au

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classified-bluerose · 5 years

Text

put me back together part II || quentin beck x reader

a/n: so obviously this doesn’t exactly fit the plot as i realised halfway through that peter seems to have met quention prior to the water attack in venice. i don’t want to change it now so let’s pretend they met before the fight. also we gonna pretend peter’s trip was always taking them to prague bc i don’t wanna write in the trip at all tbh lol. again this is probably occ... mainly self-indulgent crap, really. hope u enjoy tho!!!

warnings: cursing, mentions of violence & death, endgame spoilers, and, ofc, spiderman ffh spoilers. manipulative bastard quentin, too. (isn’t that why we love him?)

(GIF is not mine)

—

chapter two: shattered glass

—

it’s almost as though quentin actually planned this - find the girl and take her to one of the most romantic cities in the world. show her all the sights, make her laugh, slowly take down her walls, brick by brick.

the more time he spends with you the harder it becomes to disentangle himself. feelings grow deeper under early morning walks and late night chats. you never ask about the other you, the one quentin supposedly married.

you never talk about tony stark or natasha romanoff, either; when fury mentions iron man you stiffen in the corner and quentin does not miss the way your jaw clenches tight. he wants to poke and prod at these wounds left unhealed, but there’s no time before the stage is set and the water monster erupts from the intricate canals of venice’s streets.

you’re not supposed to be there - you should have been tucked away at the base, safe and sound; but quentin sees you ushering a group of frightened tourists in the opposite direction of the threat. anger coils low in his chest as he watches your figure disappear around a corner - what if something had happened to you?

how could you be so careless with yourself?

he grit his teeth and finished off the ‘’elemental’’ - needing some time to cool off and clear his head.

—

you’re not at the debrief. quentin’s skin feels itchy as he wonders where you are. have you gone home? been sent out somewhere else?

maybe you’d simply walked out. but why... why would you leave quentin? or peter, for that matter? how much you care for the kid is obvious - surely you wouldn’t just go.

surely you - surely you hadn’t actually been injured. right? right? if you had someone would have found you by now. shield would know, wouldn’t they. isn’t that their jobs? isn’t that what they’re supposed to do?

the longer he goes without knowing the more the anger rises to the surface. he tries to pat it down lest he expose himself, cursing you for making him feel this way. his jaw twitches, fist flexing, fingers curling and uncurling and curling again - anything to get the nervous energy out of his system.

after what feels like forever the briefing ends, the plan to get to prague is settled. quentin tries to catch fury but the slippery fucker is out the door in the blink of an eye.

someone taps his shoulder. quentin turns sharply, - ‘’ what? ‘’ - then pulls his attitude in again when peter flinches back. he rubs his forehead and bares his teeth in a smile.

‘’ sorry, spiderman. rough day, ‘’ he makes his excuses and the naieve kid nods and smiles and accepts too easy.

‘’ it’s okay, mr- i mean, myst- i mean, quentin. um, i just - i noticed you were looking around a lot, during the meeting. if you’re looking for her, i can show you where she is? ‘’

god, this kid is painfully awkward at times, but damn if he isn’t useful. quentin nods once. spiderman nods, clearly happy to feel like he can help. ‘’ c’mon! ‘’

he darts out as quick as a bullet from a gun, and quentin has no choice but to follow the teenage hero out into the night.

—

there’s a mural of red and gold painted large as life on the side of a building. your silhouette against it is dark and miniscule. quentin stands a few feet back and watches you stare at it. only when your shoulders begin to shake does he approach.

your breaths are laboured, eyes gleaming with unshed tears. his earlier irriation fades away, though he fights to bring it back - you could have ruined it all by disobeying orders, showing up on the street mid-fight, you could have destroyed his plans in seconds -

somehow, it doesn’t seem to matter anymore.

‘’ hey. are you okay? ‘’

you snap out of the daze and your gaze falls to your feet. you nod and force a smile that’s too dull to be authentic as you look back up. his expression becomes one of caring and empathy, your heart hurting for the man who lost it all.

‘’ m’fine. just ... ‘’ your eyes flicker once again to the painting before moving back to gaze over quentin’s shoulder. ‘’ i’m fine. ‘’

‘’ you wanna talk about it? ‘’

a humourless chuckle escapes your lips. more jagged glass than happiness. ‘’ no. ‘’

quentin pauses. knows that to push you too much too soon would ruin the carefully constructed plan he has perfected. he chances a comforting touch to your elbow, encouraged when you don’t move away.

‘’ wanna go for a walk? ‘’

he hits you with the lopsided grin that he knows has an effect; inside, your stomach swoops and fuses spark lights in your chest. on the outside your eyes soften and your lips curve up in a tiny, but genuine, smile.

quentin holds out his hand. you take it without hesistation.

—

so much about you intrigues him. it’s easy to forget about the truth behind his intentions. your skin, hotter than any normal human being. the knowledge that you have the ability to snap his neck without blinking an eye is... alluring. intoxicating. you were so broken when he met you first, only a week ago. already he feels as though he’s putting you back together. it earns him some pride.

light laughter and little, fragile smiles - moments as delicate as butterflies landing on his wrist. he yearns to touch, to pull, to hold. the plan takes priority, of course it does. but he’s worked so hard to get himself to this point. he deserves a little break with a pretty girl by his side.

‘’ so, one more elemental, ‘’ you begin, conversationally.

quentin nods. ‘’ one more. fire. the one that... the one that destroyed my world. ‘’

he swallows past an imaginary lump in his throat. he feels your eyes against the profile of his face.

‘’ well, now you know what you’re up against. not often we get a second chance. ‘’ the words are bitter, maybe unintentionally, but bitter all the same.

‘’ you did, ‘’ he points out, gently. ‘’ with thanos, right? ‘’

you huff a callous, cold laugh. ‘’ yeah. eventually won, i guess. supposedly. ‘’

there’s a darkness shadowing the curves of your face now, the kind that makes quentin’s heart rate pick up. ‘’ what do you mean? ‘’

you don’t answer for a long while. footsteps echo quietly around empty backstreets. it seems as though the city is deserted; inhabited only by the two of you, and the moon hanging low in the sky. still clad in his armour, quentin wishes to himself he’d had the foresight to change out of the clunky suit.

in the moment of distraction caused by the discomfort, he doesn’t notice that you’ve paused in front of him. he slams straight into you; neither of you stumbling as he hits the solid heat of your body.

you turn on your heel and offer a wry smile. ‘’ sorry, ‘’ you say, entirely insincere. he watches you lean back against the wall, the shadowed alleyway covering up most of your features. your eyes, though. they burn through the night and quentin is powerless to their draw.

he cocks his head to the side. ‘’ what did you mean? ‘’ he presses. ‘’ a minute ago. ‘’

‘’ it’s nothing. forget i said anything. ‘’

‘’ hey, come on. you can talk to me, you know, ‘’ he cajoles, inching closer.

you sigh; ‘’ you have enough on your plate, ‘’ she insists, but your resolve to stay silent is weakening. he can feel it.

‘’ you have listened to me talk about the tragedy of my own life since i got here, ‘’ he points out, lightly. ‘’ let me return the favour. ‘’

you consider the man of mystery in front of you: something about him you can’t quite put your finger on. maybe it’s the smile that always seems a little too sharp for comfort, or the eyes that can’t quite hide the gleam of potential insanity. something tells you, you shouldn’t trust him. something else tells you he’s the only one you should trust.

‘’ it doesn’t feel like we won, ‘’ you admit, finally. the weight falling from your chest as the words fall from your lips, secrets with sharp edges that have been cutting in to you for eight long months. ‘’ tony stark and natasha romanoff, they died. they died so the world could live, and - and that’s what, that was the point. save the world. whatever it takes, ‘’ she spits out the last three words with an incredible amount of venom. ‘’ and it’s stupid and it’s careless and i don’t even care. i want them back. i want them back so badly i would, god. i would burn this version of reality to the ground to bring ‘em back. ‘’

quentin ... did not expect this. yet somehow is unsurprised; and suddenly understands. this is what drew him in. this hidden darkness, this anger and rage buried in layers of sadness. in this moment you are more alive than he’s ever seen you; gone is the morose, flat emptiness, here is the fuel to the dynamite exploding, here is the fierce hurt and the damaged parts coming to the surface, it is magnificent, you are magnificent in your hot fury.

the breath catches in his throat as he realises; we’re the same, you and i. we both want revenge.

excitement sizzles in his veins and in that moment all he wants to do is wrap you in his arms and pull you into his embrace. he reigns himself in, patience, quentin, patience, and allows himself a single step closer.

‘’ i’m so sorry you had to go through that, ‘’ he whispers, voice a few steps lower than usual- steeped in desire he hopes can be read as sympathy. your bright eyes flicker over his face.

‘’ yeah, well. perks of bein’ a fuckin’ superhero or whatever. ‘’ she lifts her chin in the air defiantly. ‘’ but i guess you understand that. ‘’

‘’ i do, ‘’ he responds immediately, ‘’ i do. ‘’

because, okay. maybe he hadn’t actually watched his reality burn; maybe he hadn’t failed to save an imaginary family in an imaginary universe; but he had lost things, fallen deeper into black holes that chewed up his soul and spat it out again.

we’re the same, he wants to say, but again. holds himself back.

instead he smiles warmly - the sharpness still there, something you do not miss - and says, ‘’ at least we have each other. ‘’

your face lights up with mischief. ‘’ we do? ‘’ you ask, with a cocky head tilt. quentin chuckles and plays up the embarassment. acting like someone caught flirting - which he almost-kind-of-maybe was.

a blush adorns his handsome face. ‘’ i mean - uh - if you want that. ‘’ he adopts an uncertain waver to his tone; though he’s already sure you’re falling as hard for him as he is for you.

you bite back a smile and try to dim the fire burning in your belly. it just feels so good - to actually feel something. something that isn’t empty or angry or sad. something good. this connection came too quick and is growing too intense too soon. it can only end in tears. but you make a choice, the only one you’ve ever made.

let yourself be consumed in the flames, and damn the consequences.

—

tags: @loki-doki-fever @tuliptx

#personall~#quentin beck x reader #quentin beck imagine #mysterio x reader #mysterio imagine #marvel #spiderman far from home #ffh spoilers #jake gyllenhaal #mywriting #peter parker #spiderman #qb:pbmt

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margoshansons · 5 years

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The Killing Kind (8/?)

Part Eight: 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07.

MASTERLIST

Summary: They reach Prague, Peter’s acting funny, and they get a small break from saving the world.

Warnings: Maybe some light swearing? Tony Stark angst.

Notes: This is a bit of filler, but I loved writing in Peter’s POV. Also, this chapter needs hella editing later down the road when I’m finished.

She couldn’t even enjoy the beautiful scenery that lit up Prague, not when she knew that Peter had one of the most powerful AIs at his disposal and her dad was lingering around every corner. All she could do was dart her eyes around, looking around every corner for a possible drone ready to craft another awful illusion.

Y/N looked beside her to MJ, the girl standing in awe at the European country. There’s no way in hell she would let anything happen to her, especially when she could prevent it. The bus came to a stop in front of a building that definitely did not deserve to house a handful of students from New York. Her hand wrung the leather watch on her wrist, moving it back and forth as she walked through the gorgeous hall, barely noticing Mr. Harrington’s giant smile or his comment about upgrades. MJ’s soft hand tugged on her blue jacket, silently nodding at Peter and Ned’s separate conversation.

“Wait here” Y/N mouthed, meeting her friend’s confused and outraged gaze.

She gingerly approached the two friends, anxious to see what Peter had planned.

“So what’s the plan?” Y/N interrupted, throwing the two boys off their groove.

Peter jumped, eyes darting back and forth between her and Ned, “Plan? Um, there’s no plan about anything at all.”

Y/N’s eyebrow rose in suspicion, “So, you’re just gonna tackle the elementals head-on? With no backup, or you know, an idea?”

His shoulders relaxed at the mention of the elementals, glad to have his actual plan under wraps.

“She knows?” Ned whispered, a hint of betrayal lacing his voice.

Peter was speechless.

“About him being spiderman?” She interjected, pride rising in her stomach, “Yeah, I figured it out almost immediately. He’s really bad at hiding things.”

Ned nodded his head in understanding, “So that’s why you and MJ watch him all the time.”

Her chest tightened at the mention of her constant watching. “I-I don’t uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She tried to ignore the blush creeping up her cheeks while avoiding Peter’s smug gaze.

“You were watching me?” Peter asked.

Y/N shrugged, “You kept disappearing, and it was MJs idea, to begin with so…”

She honestly had no explanation for her behavior since freshman year. Even the mention of MJ was a lie, she just really didn’t want Peter knowing that she had been lurking around like some stalker. It had been her idea, to begin with, especially after seeing him come back from Germany badly hurt. She never planned on becoming friends with the kid, let alone feeling...whatever it was that had caused her to giggle and stammer whenever he was around.

“Look,” Y/N continued, “If you don’t want me to know your plan that’s fine,”

She missed the regretful look that passed over his face.

“Just...don't lie to me,” She asked, fully aware of her own hypocrisy. But she didn’t want another person who had become so important to her to lie to her face again.

Peter nodded, watching Y/N’s retreating frame.

He was still watching it when Fury kicked him out of his thoughts in the tunnels.

“Are you listening to me?”

Peter nodded, shame filling his chest at the scolding. Memories of Tony doing that exact same thing to him when he first started out clouded his head.

“He’s thinking about how you kidnapped him” Beck defended, and a surge of safety rose up in his chest, similar to when he was around Y/N.

“He had obstacles,” Fury reprimanded, “I removed them”

Peter had to resist the urge to scoff. His school vacation and his growing relationships were not obstacles that needed removing. At least not to him.

“So what’s the plan, Parker?” Fury asked, eyes trained on him.

Peter swallowed, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling the man gave him. “I sit up in the square waiting for the signal from you guys and then Mr. Beck and I--”

“My name is Mysterio” Beck interjected, throwing a playful gaze toward the young teen. The way his eyes lit up was all too reminiscent of Tony, and it almost made it seem like he was still alive, fighting this war with them. It made Peter smile.

“Then Mysterio and I will attack it and take the thing down.”

Beck nodded, and Peter caught a sense of pride in his gaze, which filled up his chest with something he hadn’t felt since Tony’s death.

“We’ll try our best to keep civilians out of the way” Beck continued, “But the most important thing is to not let it interfere with any metal.”

Peter shuffled at the thought of civilian casualties. MJ, Ned, Betty, Y/N. He needed them safe, and he needed to make sure Fury and Beck understood that his friends were his number one priority, not this elemental business.

“Look” He swallowed, “My friends are here, and I can’t help but think that we’re putting them in danger--”

“Your friends?” Fury stood up in irritation, “Now you care about them? Stark gave you a multi-million dollar AI and the first thing you thought about doing was calling a drone-strike on your so-called friend. If it wasn’t for that girl, you could’ve ruined our whole operation here Parker.” Peter gulped down his nerves at the lecture, realizing just how much damage EDITH could’ve done if Y/N wasn’t there to hack Brad’s phone. He owed her a lot.

“It's clear to me that you are not ready for this” Fury finished, enunciating every last word of that sentence.

That was all it took for Peter to sink back into himself, memories washing over him faster than Thanos’ army had.

Tony’s words stuck in his head like an endless song. “If you’re nothing without this suit then you shouldn’t have it.”

Maybe he was right. Maybe Peter didn’t deserve to be anything other than a sixteen-year-old kid from Queens. Maybe he should take a page out of Y/N’s book and ignore his powers. Maybe he should follow Mr. Stark’s original advice and stop being a superhero. Stop being spiderman. When Beck gives him the option he almost takes it. It sounds so tempting. To just give in and run back to MJ and Y/N, to revise his whole plan and take them up to the Eiffel Tower, grasp Y/N’s hand and give her the pendant he had purchased that night on the rooftop.

To tell her that he was happy to finally have someone to talk to. Tell her that he had been watching her since freshman year too. Tell her that he was so thankful that she stepped into his life and that he finally had someone who just got it. Who understood the pressure being a kid and a superhero has on a person.

It was the same way he felt with Mysterio. An overwhelming sense of safety and security. A sense of a family, a sense of love. A sense that finally, truly, he was not alone.

And when he looked at Beck’s face all he could see was Y/N, and how he would never forgive himself if she ended up in more danger than she already was. She had died in Beck’s universe, and Peter would make sure she lived in this one.

His feet hit the pavement and he took out EDITH, a sense of determination twisting in his chest. “EDITH, I need a way for my friends to remain inside for a few hours”

*** “Good news everybody!” Harrington announced, “We’re going to the opera!”

Groans filled the room with teenage disappointment and all she could do was look at MJ. The two girls rolled their eyes at the news and Y/N knew that this was because of Peter. Whatever monster he had decided to fight, he obviously wanted her out of the equation.

Well, screw him too then.

It took her exactly ten minutes to change from her leggings and t-shirt ensemble to the yellow floral wrap dress May had gifted her for her birthday three weeks ago.

She met MJ on the stairs, wearing a similar pattern but much longer.

“You look weird in flowers” was all she said before Y/N playfully pushed her best friend’s shoulder.

“Says you, I don’t think I’ve seen you in anything that wasn’t black or making some kind of feminist statement.” She scoffed, a smirk tugging at her lips.

The two girls descended the stairs, black boots slapping against the marble.

“Not very feminist of you to demean another woman’s choice of clothing.” MJ continued to shoot back, “That being said, can't believe you won’t give up the jacket”

Y/N chuckled lightly at the mention of the familiar blue leather engulfing her shoulders. “Well, you did give it to me right before you blipped so…”

MJ’s mouth perked up slightly at the memory. “That’s the problem with you Beck,” She opened the door of the hotel, “You’re so sentimental”

The friends chuckled, following their classmates through the winding streets of Prague, unaware of a certain Spiderboy’s gaze locked onto their linked figures.

Thank you so much for the love these past few weeks!

TAG LIST:

@21bruhs @maiabiovillage @spidey-holland7 @petersblake @queen-destenie@thewinchesterchronicles @filthydeatheaters@cutiepiemimi13@happylittlesuns @smolbeanfive @leilei-draws @olivia1112@avnngrs@suvikamahes98blr @broken-from-fandoms @your-pixels-are-showing@sarablog10 @santa-feigh @jade-mccartney @prettyylamee @badboysdoitbetter2 @isabellapotter15

@keanuuuuuureeeeeeevesssss ss

@kpop-wuver @editsbyjenny@radkryptonitepeanut @wonders-of-the-multiverse @kaylinfayezink@ppunderoos @weyheyavengers@thatsuperherosidekick@dasydni @jackiehollanderr @complete-trash-101 @thatwhitemutant @ninaminaromina @nan-nie

#peter parker imagines #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman ffh spoilers #spiderman ffh

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voidgriff · 4 years

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𝖜𝖔𝖑𝖋 𝖎𝖓 𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖊𝖕'𝖘 𝖈𝖑𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 ⇢ griffin beck

hello !! i’m lava... 18, mst, any pronouns, you know the deal. here’s a bit about miss griffin, our local wolf sheep! i’m banking on plotting with every single one of ya’ll and i’m easiest to reach via discord so... enjoy the read it’s way too long sorry

first and foremost, here are the basics about griffin: 20, cis female, she/her, fourth year criminal justice student, client coordinator at foxglove florists, guitarist, closeted lesbian, and melanie’s roommate (before she croaked).

griffin was born and raised in manhattan to parents who didn’t know how to function and wore carhartt overalls. they weren’t entirely well off, but were the type of family to always try to keep fresh flowers on the dining table and have game nights with their friends. truly, a young griffin loved her life. she was treated good, her parents were loving, her surprise younger brother was cute.

(tw: drugs, cults) that’s all until she turned nine. the b in beck stood for bankrupt. of course, the quick solution for griffin’s father was to join a cult. classic, right? a man on the subway coerced him into joining, saying that they’d take care of all of the beck family’s financial and spiritual problems. the family stayed in the cult for five years, dabbling in drugs (starting at age twelve for griffin), praying to a god they’d never heard before, and all that jazz. they were pretty content. i mean, they were all brainwashed into believing they were living the life they were supposed to. however, a bad acid trip made mama beck realize that the cult wasn’t so great after all (she was right, finally). days later, she took her two children in a stolen car and floored it to a new apartment in queens that didn’t have dining table flowers or carhartt overalls.

and... then came the blame. griffin was helpless, just a kid who had her childhood flipped upside down and missed her dad. having no other logical reason, mama beck started to blame griffin for everything that happened. the fact her husband wasn’t around, their bankruptcy, the cult, all of it. naturally, griffin got angry. she rebelled against her mom, using high school as her escape. at school, she realized people had normal lives: no cult, nothing like that, and griffin fucking longed for it. she got to know everyone she could (stoners, cheerleaders, nerds, the works) and found comfort in their stories. she learned from them, most importantly.

now in college, griffin feels like the world is in her hands. she finally fled every dark entity in her past and with the help of the info she learned in high school, reinvented herself to become someone she’s finally satisfied with. when asked about her past, she lies. it’s what she has to do to live the life she wants. instead of starting her teenage years off in a cult, others learn that she lived the simpler life in said manhattan apartment up until moving to illinois. there’s no mom or brother in her picture, just a dad who would do anything and everything for his favorite daughter. that’s how it always should have been, isn’t it? instead of an actual flesh bottle of hate, griffin comes across as happy and loving, taking others who need help under her wing. while she tries to seem care free, she monitors every single one of her own movements. every choice she makes is meaningful and there’s no way in hell anybody will learn a single thing about her past (or sexuality!) on her watch. she’s a meme queen, really, drawing memes in her planner instead of inspirational quotes. she knows how to play more meme-y songs on her guitar than not, but this side isn’t unlocked until you generally get to know her.

even though griffin presents herself this way, there’s still a much darker side to her: the void. yeah, void. like, it’s a whole different person. of course griffin couldn’t patch herself up entirely. there’s still a hole in her being that she can’t fill with whiskey and lukewarm coffee. even though she generally comes across as happy, there are days when she sincerely can’t take hold of herself and she’s just empty. void of all emotion. all that. it comes out at all the worst times and she tends to be a bit of a… lifeless bitch when it does. rather than void just being an emotion, it’s really a whole different persona for her. she has no control of it, really. picture like… robbie shapiro as griffin and rex as void. some relationship like that. just watch out.

and some extra bits:

pinterest board !!

wanted connections !!

griffin: fun loving and as laid back as you can be. still dressing how your father wants, but throwing in bright colors and shoes that have seen better days. always laughing and smiling, the longing to get to know more people without giving them information in return. plastering memes on your walls to make yourself smile after a long day and making tik toks with friends. wearing fancy perfume to go to the grocery store because you know it’ll make the cashier happy, having one too many white claws and throwing your shoe across a crowded party. picking up the ugliest blazers at the thrift store to give them a home. certain songs bringing up bad memories and not feeling like talking to your friends for the rest of the night. keeping the extra buttons and movie stubs because you know you’ll need them in case you forget yourself.

void: radio static interrupted by an emergency signal. ignoring a hurricane warning and simply bringing in the outdoor furniture. letting the tap run until the bathtub overflows. smoking a pack a day just to feel warm inside. a king not flinching as he watches someone get decapitated. feeling like you’re nothing more than the skeleton inside you. crying. sleeping on the floor instead of your bed because you feel like its what you deserve. burning yourself with a cigarette for the hell of it. wearing clothes from your dirty laundry hamper instead of something from your clean closet. getting on a bus and not knowing which stop you’ll get off at. nosebleeds you just can’t seem to stop.

#covintro #about

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antihero-writings · 5 years

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If These Walls Could Talk Chapter 2: “Happy”—Castlevania (Netflix) Fic (Full Chapter!)

Fic Title: If These Walls Could Talk

Chapter Title: “Happy”

Character Focus: Adrian | Alucard, Dracula and Lisa

Synopsis: Vampires do not have reflections, and castles do not have hearts. But Dracula is no ordinary vampire, and Castlevania is no ordinary castle. If castles can fight, maybe they can think too.

The series, and Adrian’s childhood, told from the perspective of the castle.

Chapter 2 (of 8), “Happy”:

The castle doesn’t like the crying.

But then there’s another sound: sometimes, if they are very lucky, the child laughs.

…and the room fills with the sound, like air in its lungs.

It isn’t just the room anymore. It belongs to someone. It has a master. It’s his room. It’s Adrian’s room.

A reflection of the family. Of ‘family.’ Of ‘happy.’

Just to make sure the boy remembers their faces. What ‘happy’ looked like.

Sunlight.

That’s the other thing; the windows in the room are open now.

Humans seem to hunt, to find joy in, the sun. Vampires cannot even live in the sunlight, much less enjoy it, so Dracula has no choice but to keep his castle dark.

But Adrian has a mother too, and is not all vampire. The point of the room was never to be pitch black anyways.

And Castlevania does need it.

Life stirs. Adrian opens the door to the room, and it starts to seep out into the halls.

The castle is used to the unkind tones of its master, even towards children; it more than half expects him to scold them for the noise, to shut the door, or say nothing.

And sometimes he does.

The castle has never seen its master like this. Just like when he worked with his hands to build the room. It isn’t sure it likes. But then…it isn’t sure it dislikes it either…

And, seeing its master take the boy through the halls, showing him all the magic, the mystery, the meaning of things, the castle realizes it’s watching its master come to life as well.

Adrian laughs, and he cries. He reads and he learns. He casts spells and he casts his pen to the page. He plays, and he draws, and he imagines, and he brings to life everything around him.

Adrian opens the windows, opens the door.

And, in the center of life-strewn universe they built, the room sighs.

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that-shamrock-vibe · 5 years

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Movie Review: Spider-Man Far From Home (Spoilers)

Spoiler Warning: I am posting this review the weekend after the movie’s release in the U.K, so if you haven’t yet seen the movie do not read on until you do because there are some rather juicy spoilers here.

MCU Ad Campaign:

This is why I feel Kevin Feige needs to have full control over Spider-Man because he is a master of teasing us with enough in the trailers to get us excited for the movie.

Even with Avengers: Endgame which kept so much secret in the trailers built up that hype and anticipation, okay yes it was the culmination of 11 years of movies and the second part of what was one of the greatest cinematic cliffhangers in history, but even so there were so many theories and speculation about what could happen that it obviously helped with that juggernaut release.

But the issue with Spider-Man: Far From Home is the trailers and promotion just made the movie seem like your average superhero flick. It was necessarily the case of The Amazing Spider-Man 2 or Suicide Squad where so much was shown in the trailer that wasn’t in the final movie, but there wasn’t enough to speculate on or build up the hype unless you’re already a comic-book fan and want to see another Spider-Man movie and know that in the comics Mysterio is a villain so want to see what happens with him here.

I’d say the introduction of the multiverse may have been what both Feige and Pascal thought could be a key plot point to draw in the hype, but that was proven just to be a facade. It was only really mentioned in that scene that everyone has seen in the trailers and there was never a time in the trailers where I thought “Yes that is what everyone will talk about”.

With Thor: Ragnarok for example, it was penned as a fun 80s style buddy movie and that is what the trailers showed, but then you add in Hela and that shot of her destroying Mjolnir as well as the “He’s a friend from work” scene and that’s what made it one of the most watched trailers of all time.

I said in my non-spoiler review that I fear for this movie’s performance if we are to base mainstream audience interest on watching the trailers, I still feel that even though the two times I have now seen the movie the theatres have been relatively full.

Characters:

Spider-Man:

As I said in my non-spoiler, Tom Holland continues to prove why he was such a perfect casting choice for Peter Parker/Spider-Man. Not only does he still look like a teenager so you believe he should still be at school, he has so much charisma and charm that you can’t not like the guy.

I loved when he was at Aunt May’s support centre and was, as May said, a little stiff but it was believable.

Let’s face it, this is a guy who is still a teenager, he is still dealing with the average student problems like fancying a girl and possibly getting good grades, although at Midtown it’s a wonder any of them can get good grades with those teachers, we’ll get to them. But also Peter is dealing with the added stress not only of being Spider-Man but the aftershock of what happened in Endgame both in terms of “The Blip” and Tony’s death.

It was interesting to me that they were kind of going down the Iron Man 3 route of Peter having PTSD from “The Blip” but that quickly turned simply into either guilt or grief over Tony’s sacrifice and the responsibility everyone is now putting on his shoulders. With great power comes great responsibility, that saying is echoed throughout this movie in particular.

I also really like the Spidey suits in the movie, because there were so many it was like a Spidey fashion show at one point.

I loved the fact he kept the Iron Spider suit and especially seeing it pixelating in that container was really cool. Also the upgraded suit he was given which is a mainstay of the character at this point.

Then there’s the return of the original Spidey sweatsuit during one of Mysterio’s illusions which was a nice little nod and a reference to the Emperor’s New Clothes with who the world has built him up to be compared to how he feels on the inside.

Also, his new red and black suit that he created in the Stark Industries jet was a fantastic sequence. Not only was it crystal clear that they were trying to make Peter resemble Tony in that scene, but it was done so effortlessly and it was really fun once again to see someone play with the Holo chamber.

But in terms of my negatives, because I do have negatives for all these characters, I cannot believe he was that stupid that he gave away EDITH to Mysterio, not because Mysterio was an obvious bad guy because he wasn’t, but because EDITH was such a useful device and Peter apparently doesn’t have KAREN anymore so he needs some form of AI assistant.

I did however really enjoy the onscreen partnership of Jake Gyllenhaal and Tom Holland, you can tell off-screen the two really got on and it resonates on screen.

There was also a really stupid moment when he’s facing Hydro-Man and he wears that mask to try concealing his identity from his classmates, despite the fact that he is wearing the same clothes his classmates know he is wearing so why didn’t anyone attempt to put 2 + 2 together. I mean it’s implied MJ may have but who knows.

With the Elementals as well, as much as I think they are brilliant antagonists visually, and of course in this instance weren’t real but may still exist, I don’t see how Spider-Man can combat any of them because his synthetic webbing would have no effect on water, fire, sand or air. It was obviously Mysterio’s perfect plan to make himself the hero, but the fact no one thought to question that Spider-Man was less use than Black Widow would have been in that fight really bugged me.

I did like him trying to court MJ, I thought his six-step plan was well thought out and the rivalry between him and Brad over MJ was also refreshing to see in a superhero movie.

We’ll talk about the post-credits scene further down but that ending scene before the credits of him doing Spidey’s traditional scout of the city was a great way to end the movie. The main reason I love playing the Spider-Man games is simply to swing through the city and will gladly spend a lot of time doing it just to explore. Also if that’s not the Oscorp building he swung through than it’s the biggest misdirect in a Marvel movie.

Mysterio:

By far my favourite Jake Gyllenhaal role, I have never been a massive fan of his as he and his sister have simply been actors I gloss over. But Mysterio was a very comical villain for me in terms of looks yet Gyllenhaal manages to make the suit and the fishbowl look awesome.

I loved how he was so committed to his role as a parallel world superhero, you honestly believed he was a good guy right up until the moment when the illusion fades.

Speaking of illusions, these are potentially the best use of visual effects I have seen since Doctor Strange. I haven’t seen the movie in 3D but I was almost tempted to the second time just to experience the splender of how the visuals looked. They were literally effects ripped from the comics, everything came together and it was magic.

When he was revealed as a villain and that epic reveal scene of his and his crews master plan, including throwbacks to Captain America: Civil War and the first Iron Man was jaw-dropping. I really appreciate both Feige and Peter Billingsley who was the actor playing the former Stark Industries scientist turned Beck’s henchman for making it seem like this was the plan overall all those years back. I doubt very much that Feige planned it from Civil War let alone 2008.

However, the ending for Mysterio is where my negatives come in. Not only did Beck turn into a raging child running out of ideas but also the fact they killed him off is something I really can’t get my head around. Vulture, Shocker and Scorpion are all alive and if they want to build a Sinister Six then surely this Mysterio is a likeable candidate, yet now he’s dead. It just reminds me of the likes of Hela and these one-movie villains with so much more potential.

Nick Fury:

I love Samuel L. Jackson, I know I sang his praises during Captain Marvel but he’s just as great here.

I loved the running theme of Peter ghosting him by sending him to voicemail, then eventually when Fury and Peter do meet and there’s the constant interruptions of staff and students that makes him turn and say “If one more person touches that door you and I will be attending another funeral” it was so great and only could be said by Nick Fury.

However, and I’ll get into the reasons more in my post-credits discussion, but with the reveal at the end that the Fury we have seen throughout the movie is in fact Talos the Skrull, there are tells throughout the movie that indicate that which I can’t tell as to if they’re deliberate or accidental.

For instance, during Spider-Man’s first meeting with Mysterio, Fury says “He’s from Earth, just not yours” so why didn’t he say “ours”? Also when he said that appearances can be deceiving I bet that was also a tell that he was the shapeshifting alien.

For that reason, it is hard for me to say that I enjoyed Fury in this movie because the real Nick Fury is only in one small scene at the end of the movie. But Samuel L. Jackson still delivers. Also “bitch please you’ve been to space!” never gets old.

MJ:

Commiserations to Zendaya for not getting Ariel, but at least now she is the girlfriend of Spider-Man so yay.

I really love Zendaya in this role, I think she brings a much needed grounded modern realism to the role that I feel is needed for the younger female audience of today.

I loved it when she revealed that she always knew Peter was Spider-Man but when he eventually confirmed it she said “Really, because I was only 67% sure”. They really played up the character’s awkwardness and vulnerabilities in this movie which explain why she is such an outcast and how she just seemed to float on by in the first movie.

My one negative is where the character goes now, I think that scene after she found out Peter was Spider-Man was definitely her weakest because she just seemed like a very mopey love interest. But then she’ll have kick-ass scenes like knocking out a drone with a mace.

The ending with her swinging around with Peter was already shown in set photos but it was hilarious to see the final thing, I loved how she kept saying she wouldn’t look down and then kept looking down. Then when they landed and her hair had seemingly grown in weight was very funny.

Happy Hogan:

I am so happy for Jan Favreau being a mainstay in the MCU, you would think that after RDJ left that his entourage would also leave. However, now that Happy is seemingly Spider-Man’s support staff it gives him more reason to be around.

I will say this though, everything you see of Happy in the trailers you pretty much see in the movie itself, with some extended scenes. There are a couple more funnier scenes added in but other than that you’ve seen pretty much everything he does in the movie.

As I said, I loved the recurring gag of “ghosting” Nick Fury, it was interesting in the first instance because I swear up until now Happy and Fury have not actually met before, but now Tony is dead I guess they have some association with each other.

His relationship with Aunt May in the movie was a very sweet and understated coupling in the movie. I actually do see the two of them together and it would be great going forward if they remained in a relationship just to give them both something to do other than support Peter Parker.

It was such a great moment when Peter started designing his suit on the plane and Happy was watching in awe. He saw what the audience was meant to see which was Peter acting like Tony Stark.

I have also enjoyed his progression from Tony’s bodyguard to Spider-Man’s right-hand man. Not only did he come and save Peter from the Netherlands, but also he saved Peter’s school friends and put himself in danger in the process.

I really hope Happy continues to be a part of the MCU, even if it is in the Spider-Man movies but also branching out elsewhere.

Brad:

Hudson from Neighbours is in this movie. For anyone that doesn’t know what I’m on about there was a minor-recurring character a few years ago who was a gay competitive swimmer who became romantically involved with a main character at the time but also got into trouble with the police, this was him and I am so glad to see him still working.

I am unsure if the character was part of the first movie, but I am happy to see him here as he was a great example of how The Blip affected Midtown High.

He did present himself as a bit of a douche but also he did start off simply as a decent guy, it was just that he let his competitiveness for wanting to be with MJ and screwing over Peter get the better of him.

This did cause problems for me as the movie progressed, not only did he become the whistle blower that no one listened to and simply came across as a bitter individual, but also there was never really any resolve to his story after the outburst of questioning why Peter was always disappearing.

Aunt May:

Marisa Tomei continues to be a great and innovative Aunt May. I’m still unsure about having a younger and somewhat hotter Aunt rather than the sweet old lady we are used to but I still say Sally Field in The Amazing Spider-Man movies was my favourite of the bunch.

I am really happy that she set up her charitable rehoming shelter as she has done in the comics and the latest Spider-Man game. Her delivery of when she “blipped back” into existence and the new tenants of her apartment thought she was a ghost or a mistress was hilarious.

I do think May was a bit harsh to Happy, I don’t think she led him on but she clearly invited him to her office and you don’t do that if there’s not something there more than just a summer fling.

I am a fan of the fact that May now knows of Peter being Spider-Man and supporting him in his endeavours, as well as using him to boost support for her homeless campaign.

Maria Hill:

Much like Fury, it is hard to say how well Maria did in this movie because she spent the entire movie as a Skrull. However in terms of Cobie Smulders performance, I am glad she got more screen time than she has done recently.

Although she didn’t have many lines, she had a lot to do action wise. I loved in the climactic battle when she went to the roof with that bazooka because both she and Fury had anticipated Mysterio’s drone being sent to assassinate the two.

Ned:

If I found Ned annoying in Spider-Man: Homecoming, I found him unbearable in this one. Not only are the negative qualities of him from the first movie back in force here, but that added story of Ned and Betty getting into a relationship was simply pointless and made Ned even more unlikeable if possible.

First of all, I don’t care how he defends himself, Ned got a girlfriend and then blew Peter off despite not only being adamant in wanting the two guys to be American bachelors in Europe but also in supposedly being Spider-Man’s “guy in the chair”.

Also, Brad’s jealousy over Peter was understandable and actually good for the movie, Ned being jealous of MJ after she found out about Peter being Spider-Man was just pathetic. Not only because that is the point when he actually tries to help Spider-Man but also because MJ didn’t really need him, no one did.

Teachers:

With the teachers in the movie, I will say I miss Selenis Leyva as physics teacher Monica Warren from the first movie. Not only because her being Latina fit in rather well with the Queens neighbourhood, but also because it was some gender diversity in the ranks.

Here we have the Caucasian Harrington and Mr. Dell who I believe was created for the movie after J.B. Smoove was involved in the Audi commercial with Tom Holland to promote the first movie.

I do agree with Dell about there being no science on the science field trip and this is also why I’d prefer Monica Warren to be there over Harrington, Harrington is a crap teacher. Not only did he not plan ahead with the trip but also his incompetence nearly got a bus-load of students killed. Bearing in mind he was also the teacher responsible during the Washington incident.

Students:

Aside from the students already mentioned, the other students involved in the movie are Betty Brandt, Flash Thompson and Jason Ionello. I thought on the whole the students of Midtown High still continue to be a great and modernly accurate portrayal of Queens in the present day, but also they proved themselves necessary to the movie rather than just clutter in the way.

Post-Credits:

Alright so we have two very juicy post-credits scenes that not only shape the next Spider-Man movie but also the future of the MCU.

The first scene picks up directly where the movie ended and has Peter return MJ to the ground before taking off for some superheroism. However he is then stopped by a breaking news bulletin which was set up by Mysterio and delivered by William Ginter Riva showing a doctored version of events in the climactic battle where apparently Spider-Man was the one orchestrating the drone strike and Mysterio was the hero who Spider-Man killed.

The bulletin then cut to none other than J. Jonah Jameson, returning to the live-action Spider-Man movies portrayed by the one and only J.K. Simmons. My audience cheered at this point because not only is it about time Jameson returned to the movies but to have J.K. reprise the role he is probably most notable for is a delight.

Although here, the Daily Bugle seems to be an online media outlet rather than a newspaper company but for the modern day it works rather well.

However, believing that Peter will one day get a job at the Daily Bugle seems very slim with the reveal that Mysterio identified Spider-Man as Peter Parker, meaning the world now knows Spider-Man’s identity. I want to see the fallout now.

The end-credits scene shows Fury and Hill in a car before shapeshifting into Talos and his wife Soren from Captain Marvel. Talos reports to the real Nick Fury who is in front of the most fake green-screen imaginable as it is revealed he is actually on some form of space-station crewed by Skrulls.

This could be a myriad of things, but my favourite theory is that this is the start of S.W.O.R.D. to become Fury’s new organization after S.H.I.E.L.D.

Overall I rate the movie an 8/10, I’m not going to say it’s a perfect movie but it is a brilliant movie and definitely the movie needed to follow up after Avengers: Endgame.

So that’s my review of Spider-Man: Far From Home, what did you guys think? Post your comments and check out more Marvel Movie Reviews as well as other Movie Reviews and posts.

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tomeandflickcorner · 5 years

Note

Jericho, Mad Beauty, and Thor for the ask

Whoa, I almost forgot about this!

Jericho-

Favorite character: Tie between Jake and Gail

Least Favorite character: Um...hard to say. There weren’t any characters that made me groan whenever they popped up. Though Gray Anderson came close, so I guess I’ll go with him

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): Jake/Emily, Johnston/Gail, Robert/Darcy, Stanley/Mimi and Heather/Beck

Character I find most attractive: Hard to say. Though I can see why people might find Jake and Emily attractive

Character I would marry: LOL. Well, all the ‘eligible’ men on the show seemed to be taken, don’t they? So there’s not much to chose from

Character I would be best friends with: I wanna say Heather. She was pretty cool

a random thought: I think, at one point, it was mentioned that one of the deputy’s kids was sick with something. I remember thinking if that was going to be relevant, but it was never brought up again

An unpopular opinion: I don’t think the show did a proper job at explaining why Johnston and Eric held such a negative opinion of Jake at the start of the show. I got that Jake was basically the town’s ‘bad boy’ back in the day, but... they way they acted towards him when he came back into town seemed a bit mean spirited to me

My Canon OTP: Jake and Emily

My Non-canon OTP: IDK. Maybe April and Russel?

Most Badass Character: Gotta go with Robert. No offence to Jake, of course. But between the two of them, Robert is the one I’d actively avoid trying to tick off

Most Epic Villain: John Gotez

Pairing I am not a fan of: Maybe Eric and Mary. While I didn’t actively hate it, I was mostly indifferent to them and pretty much fell asleep during their scenes

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): April. hands down

Favorite Friendship: Jake and Robert.

Character I most identify with: Not sure.

Character I wish I could be: I’m drawing a blank, I’m afraid

Mad Beauty-

When I started shipping them: Hard to pinpoint the exact date. It started off when I saw a post mentioning the pairing, and I was intrigued by the concept. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I liked it. Before I knew it, I was Mad Beauty trash

My thoughts: I just think they make the most sense. All things considered, Jefferson and Belle probably suffered the most during the course of the Dark Curse that created Storybrooke. Jefferson was forced to spend nearly three decades watching his beloved daughter from afar, knowing he couldn’t approach her because she didn’t remember him. Not to mention how he was the only one in town who remembered the truth but knew he couldn’t tell anyone on account of how nobody would believe him. As for Belle, she spent all that time confined in her cell in the psychiatric ward, where her only human contact were the orderlies who brought her food and whatnot. She never received any visitors during that time and I doubt the orderlies bothered striking up a conversation with her. To top it off, if her behavior when she was forced over the town line were any indication, she probably had absolutely no memories, either real or faked, to revisit while in confinement. While the show never addressed it, I firmly believe that Belle was probably in serious need of therapy when the curse broke. Apart from that, there’s the fact that Belle was a young woman who clearly craved adventure and wanted to see the world. Jefferson, who had spent quite a few years as a portal jumper with the use of his magic hat, has most likely visited more realms in the multiverse than anyone else in the show. So he’d be perfectly suited to be Belle’s personal guide to each and every one of those realms, giving her the world tour she’d always yearned for. And then there’s Grace. I think we all can agree that Grace is Jefferson’s top priority. Can you imagine how much Jefferson would love to see Belle and Grace interact and bond? Because it’s obvious they would. Especially since they both know what it’s like to lose their mother through tragic circumstances. Plus, both Jefferson and Belle are characters with a strong association with tea. I cannot erase the mental image of all three of them sitting down to a tea party.

What makes me happy about them: That I can write about them. Writing for this paring is almost as fun as writing about Captain Swan, my top OTP

What makes me sad about them: That this particular ship is so uncommon. It’s rare to find another Mad Beauty shipper. That and the fact that it will never be canon

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: Well, there are very few Mad Beauty fics out there, so I suppose the lack of them counts as an annoyance. Especially since most of the available ones seem more about Rumbelle, based on the fic summaries

Things I look for in fanfic: For it to actually exist (lol)

My wishlist: Don’t think I have one

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: Not sure with Jefferson, since we hardly saw him interacting with anyone in canon, but Belle is my multi-ship. I’d be happy to see her with anyone who deserves her, really (Including Gold, as long as he actually got his act together first and quit being such a manipulative a-hole)

My happily ever after for them: Ah, but that would be a major spoiler for the fifth and final installment of my canon divergence series, wouldn’t it?

Thor-

How I feel about this character: Overall, I like him. While I wouldn’t say he’s my favorite character, I’ve always enjoyed his presence. He just strikes me as someone who’d be a lot of fun to be around

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: Jane Foster. And maybe Lady Sif as a ‘we dated as kids/teenagers but then broke up amicably’ kind of deal

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: Loki and/or Valkyrie

My unpopular opinion about this character: His intelligence seemed to be a bit inconsistent at times. (Really, he knows about emails, but doesn’t know you need a computer to access them?) It’s a bit frustrating, because he is clearly an intelligent man

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: That he hadn’t broken up with Jane. Whose bright idea was that?

Favorite friendship for this character: It’s a toss-up between Steve and Darcy Lewis

My crossover ship: Does paring him with Ororo Munro/Storm count as a crossover? I mean, they’ve both technically Marvel characters, but so far, the X-Men aren’t a thing in the MCU

Send me a Number

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gretchensinister · 6 years

Text

Operation Welcome Mat (preview)

I usually like to post a fic for my birthday, and well, this is a few days belated, but sometimes that’s how it goes. This is a preview of something I’m working on, now, and it’s a branching out of my usual fandom territory! I hope you’re curious, and I hope you enjoy!

It all stems from the question: Why does so much stuff that only Superman can deal with happen on the planet that Superman is on? That’s not the question that Lois Lane asks, but it’s the one she’s going to find an answer for.

Lois Lane always checks her spam folder. In fact, she always opens each individual message in there. Ninety-nine point nine nine nine percent of the time, what’s in there is garbage, but garbage is not synonymous with useless. Consider the journalists in Portland who went through the District Attorney’s garbage to make a point about privacy. Her daily ritual isn’t on that level of significance, but she feels the point still stands.

Today, she opens an email that isn’t promising free trials of herbal supplements, contact info for hot singles in her area, or insurance policies that will cover damages caused by any and all anomalous events for as little as $10 a month. (These last annoyed her enough to ask Louise in Business to do a small expose on such companies—turns out, the fine print stated that given the regularity of attacks on Metropolis by aliens, robots, metahumans, etc., etc., these events could not be considered anomalous. Fucking scammers. She’s pretty sure they’re involved in a class-action lawsuit right now.)

Instead, it reads thus:

I am sending this to you because I think you are the only person in the world who might have adequate protection after I tell you this. It is for my safety and yours that I have not used your name or described what that protection might be.

I ask you to use any and all resources you have at your disposal to investigate Operation Welcome Mat. I cannot tell you much more without compromising the slight chance this communication has of reaching you. However, I do not exaggerate when I say that the revealing—anything more I dare not hope for—of this operation will affect every human life on Earth.

Sincerely,

One who works in the organization that knows you always check your spam folder

The remaining message is a long and rambling series of testimonials for anti-aging and potency supplements, but Lois sees no reason to consider these as marks against the authenticity of the original message. Camouflage is important. As is covering one’s tracks. She opens her desk drawer and retrieves a high-quality digital camera that’s nevertheless old enough that it needs an actual physical cord to transfer the pictures on it to any computer. Lois has kept it in excellent condition, save for, oh, the pesky matter of the fact that the delete function doesn’t work on the camera itself, and that she just can never find the right kind of removable memory cards. Darn, what a problem! Fortunately the camera contains a 5000-image capacity non-removable internal memory. She takes a picture of the relevant portion of the email—well, ten pictures—and then sets about blocking every IP address that’s sent her something that ended up in her spam folder today and deleting every email indiscriminately. She’d like to perform a more thorough delete, but she never does that with any of her spam, and she’s got a feeling that now would not be a good day to start.

Amateurs might worry about how she deleted the original email, but Lois knows that if she finds anything, she won’t need that email, and for another thing, the writer of that email most certainly doesn’t want anyone to be able to analyze their word choices and phrasing.

She rests her arms on her desk and starts letting her mind work through everything the email told her. So, she’s the only person who “might have adequate protection” after learning about Operation Welcome Mat? The only unique protection she’s had under any circumstances is Superman. In a few well-known incidents, he’d appeared to give preference to getting her to safety before others. Lois isn’t one hundred percent sure that’s true, as she knows very well that she might’ve been the person in the greatest danger during each incident. Over her career, she’s tended to disregard danger for the sake of the story. And she can argue persuasively that in order to be a successful female journalist, she has to be prepared to face a certain amount of danger; she can argue that her years of experience have given her the ability to accurately evaluate the potential danger of a situation. These arguments have been, and are, vital to her public persona.

But under a few layers of “I have to do this” is the chewy center of “I want to do this.” It’s true! Believe it or not, Lois Lane, Pulitzer Prize-winning investigative journalist, is a bit of a thrill-seeker!

Good thing that might be exactly what her email contact needs.

So. Back to the email. Back to Superman. She knows well enough that she doesn’t have a raven-haired alien angel at her beck and call, but, based on what the public has seen, is it more likely that she does than any other investigative journalist? Yes. So, if only Superman can offer her adequate protection, then—

“Hi Lois,” Clark says, setting a paper cup on her desk. “Two sugars, no milk—” He breaks off into an almost cartoonishly exaggerated yawn that Lois nevertheless is familiar enough with to know is genuine.

“You ought to buy some coffee for yourself,” Lois says, digging a few dollars out of her wallet and tossing them at him, which he barely catches. “I mean, if you’re going to volunteer to walk down to Reeve’s every day, anyway. And didn’t you grow up waking up at 4am to milk cows or whatever?”

Clark smiles shyly. Like he always does. It’s a good smile, and on a kid who’s six foot three and probably better built than any of the barns he ever helped raise, it could very well explain why he always seems so exhausted in the morning. Though if Lois’ theory is true, she hasn’t seen or heard any other evidence of it. A gentleman never tells, Lois thinks idly.

“I can and have milked cows in my sleep,” he says. “I can’t do anything in my sleep, here.” He looks down. “Uh, the truth is that I haven’t been sleeping well since the—what did they call it? The Chirauga Incident?”

Lois grimaces. Yeah, Clark and half of Metropolis. Including her. When an army of aliens that big showed up all at once, there was no way to avoid some level of freaking out, special protection from Superman or not. “Yeah, the Chirauga Incident. Ugly sons of bitches, in my opinion. I killed one personally, you know.”

Clark’s eyes widen in shock, and Lois grins. “What? I verified they weren’t bulletproof before going out to start, you know, researching my story.” But, because she is committed to the truth, even though Clark seems like he’ll believe anything she says, she has to add, “Well, okay. I’m pretty sure I mortally wounded it. Superman took care of it before I could find out for sure.” It had been clean. Heat vision through the Chirauga equivalent of the spinal cord. And Superman had turned to her with that red glow still shimmering in the back of his eyes. “Are you all right?” he’d asked, hovering a foot above the ground like it was nothing, looking at her like she was something. And she’d looked into the terrible weapon of his gaze and been stunned by the perfect surety that he’d never use it on a human being.

And for all that, she’d never seen him look so alien.

“Weren’t you watching? I had this one handled,” she’d said, with a rasp in her voice she hoped he’d attribute to the heavy dust and smoke in the air.

“Well, in that case, I guess all I can do now is tell you to be careful out there,” he’d said.

It would be nice if there was a discreet little jump cut in her memory right after that, but, unfortunately, Lois remembers with perfect clarity that she’d responded, “Sure thing, spaceboy,” like a complete and utter dumbass. But then Superman hadn’t laughed at her, no, he’d given her the smile and wink of an old-fashioned movie star before flying away to continue saving the world. She, on the other hand, had staggered off, feeling as emotionally churned-up as a teenager.

The worst part about it, in her opinion, is that she knows very well that Superman has this effect on almost everyone who encounters him.

“Ah, Superman,” Clark says, drawing her back to the present. His shocked expression has been replaced by the little smile she’s often seen him wear when talk of Superman comes up. She’s always thought there was something secretive about that smile, something notably different from the rest of his farm-boy guilelessness. (Though, she doesn’t quite believe he’s as transparent as he otherwise appears. And she doesn’t think that’s just her natural suspicion kicking in. For one thing, the Daily Planet is big, but not big enough that someone who was hired as a journalist could fall through the cracks and become nothing but a friendly coffee boy. She’s read some of his articles, the neighborhood news stuff he generally covers, and the writing is as solid as he is, with words chosen with care and sensitivity. There’s more to him than meets the eye, and if he ever decides to get ambitious, Lifestyle is in for a big surprise. For another thing, he’d moved to Metropolis during a metahuman surge, and that, frankly, was not what normies did, no matter how clueless they were.)

The running undercurrent of what she knows about Clark and the smile that’s the one noticeable discordant note in the melody of the person she works with suddenly gel into a possible conclusion, one that Lois could’ve kicked herself for not even considering earlier.

Talented kid moves from small-town Kansas, where he could’ve been a big fish in a tiny pond. And he doesn’t even move to a city in the same state or region, where he could have been a big fish in a medium-sized pond. Instead, he moves to Metropolis, where he won’t be a big fish at all, but where it’ll be a big project for anyone who knew him in Smallville to ever visit, or know anything about him he doesn’t want them to know. Metropolis, which, despite its dangers, still lives in the cultural mind as a place where the good kind of anything can happen. (Where Superman is often seen.) And when he’s here, he never, ever says anything about even going on a date with anyone, and mentions of Superman bring out that secretive smile. And he started off writing his articles with a clear awareness of issues that Lois has seen other straight white male coworkers fail to grok even after clear, baby-step-style explanations. And he’s never, ever tried to turn getting her coffee into something uncomfortable.

So, possible conclusion: Clark is some flavor of queer, and still closeted/uncomfortable about it. But he can’t completely hide his crush on Superman because, well. Superman. And the kid has an honest face.

Just goes to show, she thinks, how slow and unreliable gaydar can be, even if you are bi.

But this does give her an idea on where to send him as she starts her initial investigation of this Project Welcome Mat. If it is big, bad business like it seems, Clark doesn’t need to get mixed up in it, even to the point of overhearing a phone call. And besides, it might help him accept himself, if he needs that.

“You know what, Clark?” Lois says. “You need something to take your mind off shit like alien invasions.”

Clark grimaces. “I don’t know if anything can.”

“Yeah, it’s a toughie, but you’re a Metropolitan now,” Lois says, with more bravado than she feels. Some things you don’t get used to. But some of those things you have to at least pretend to get used to. “Get outside. Write your cat-up-a-tree article tomorrow. Do something completely out of the ordinary.” And then, as if she’s just thought of it, “Powtown Pride is going on today. Powtown’s a neighborhood. Pride’s something to write about. You could go there and see what you can see.”

“Powtown?” Clark says, raising his eyebrows. “That’s the metahuman neighborhood. That’s…a bit more interesting than where Rowlands usually sends me.”

Lois waves her hand. “Rita is seventy-eight and still thinks anything involving a metahuman is a front-pager. Perry can tell her otherwise when you bring back something nice.”

“Well,” Clark says, warming to the idea, “there are a lot of misconceptions about Powtown that ought to be worn away by a reliable source like the Planet. I mean—there probably are. I don’t know, personally. But if everything written about Powtown was true, no one could live there. It’d be a smoking crater in the ground.”

“So you see? Needs you,” Lois says. She smirks. “Be careful, though. They’ve got twinks down there that could rip you in half.”

“Says someone who just told me about personally shooting a Chirauga,” Clark says. “No, no, I know—you had it handled. Anyway. Yeah, I will go.” He looks towards the windows and sighs. “After all, it’s a beautiful day to be outside.”

Lois waves at him as he leaves, then glances towards the windows herself. It really is a beautiful June day, not too hot, vivid blue sky, puffy clouds slowly drifting by. Does Superman prefer days like this for flying? She wonders. Or would it not affect him at all? What would it be like to fly with Superman on a day like today—Lois sticks her tongue out in an exaggerated expression of disgust. She’s better than that! She has to be!

Anyway, she’s got something new to investigate. Before Clark interrupted, she was thinking of what things out in the world only Superman could be adequate protection from. Well, aside from horrible things from space, that leaves a very short list that prominently features a house of a certain color and a building of a certain shape. And the name—Operation Welcome Mat—it has a very particular ring to it.

But she’s still going to look into the rest of that short list. A direct assault isn’t the correct approach here, and besides, there might be connections, even if the person she’s going to call is officially blacklisted from government contracts.

She scrolls to the contact in her phone for “Louis L’Amour,” and reaches out to someone who definitely isn’t a dead writer of Westerns.

Notes: I’ve decided to have Superman’s code against killing be specifically about humans/earthlings because for one thing, I don’t have to answer to Standards and Practices, and for another, I don’t feel like having every alien army be robots (which with sufficiently advanced AI doesn’t help anyway), and what do you want me to do, have Superman knock all the aliens out? If they’re going down long enough to be essentially counted out of the fight, they’re getting life-threatening brain injuries anyway.

#superman #lois lane #fic #operation welcome mat #my knowledge of superman comes from the DCAU but this is kind of my own 'verse

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illbeyourreasonwhy · 4 years

Text

So Much I Think It Must Be...

Chapter 6: I don’t hate you

Amber was sitting alone, legs dangling down through the bars, and Andi found herself moving towards her.

“Mind if I join you?” she asked, knocking lightly on the doorway.

Andi wasn’t not having a good time, per say. She just wasn’t particularly enjoying herself. The music was too loud and she’d lost track of her friends, aside from Jonah who was making a name for himself on the dance floor. Watching him was entertaining for a few minutes, but after making sure she had enough blackmailing material she relocated to the kitchen.

It was thankfully empty and she hopped onto the counter, grabbing a cup to pour herself a new drink. Kitchens were always the places she liked hanging in the most during parties; they were usually taken up by people that were at least somewhat sober, and Andi often found herself pulled into conversations that were way more interesting than dancing in overheated rooms full of sweaty teenagers.

Parties weren’t really her thing.

(Well, that wasn’t completely true. Her parties, the ones she organised, with Bex djing and her friends having a great time? A blast. Parties with rooms overcrowded with people she didn’t really know? Not so much.)

Buffy: at least tell me you’re trying to socialise

Andi smiled softly to herself. While Buffy was always one to go out and dance with Marty, she would also often join Andi in the quiet shelter from the music. The two of them had had some of their most interesting conversations sitting on counters and watching people getting wasted, and Andi missed that. She missed her.

Me: jonah’s trying to convince people to learn the ‘beck dance’

Buffy: is it as bad as it sounds?

Me: yep

Buffy: wow, wish i could see that

“Hey, Andi. Long time no see.”

Andi looked up. Natalie leaned against the counter in front of her, cup in hand. She hadn’t changed; same ponytail, same easy smile, same aura of confidence radiating from her.

“Hey, Natalie.” She picked up her cup, trying to busy her hands. “How have you been?”

“Pretty good. My ultimate team won the championship this year, so we're pretty stoked about it.”

“That's cool. Congrats.”

“Thanks.” She smiled and took a sip from her cup. “Jonah looks like he’s having fun,” she commented after a moment.

Andi was tempted to smile and join into what was clearly a chance to push past the awkwardness there had always been between the two of them, but she didn’t. She thought of Jonah and Natalie’s history, of his excitement at the news of Natalie’s return, of how happy he and Libby had been earlier that day at the beach, and blurted out:

“You know Jonah has a girlfriend, right?”

Natalie raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the question. “Yeah, I heard. He won’t shut up about her.”

She said it with a fond smile, not a hint of jealousy, but Andi kept going, needing to make sure that Natalie wasn’t about to mess up her friends’ love lives.

“I’m just saying… that he’s taken. You know, in case you had any ideas.”

Natalie stared for a second, then burst out laughing. Andi watched, feeling like she was missing the punchline of a good joke.

“We’re just friends,” Natalie assured her when she calmed down. “Don’t worry. I’m not interested.”

“Okay,” Andi fumbled, feeling her cheeks heat up. “Good. Sorry for… jumping to conclusions, or something.”

“It’s fine,” Natalie said with a dismissive wave of the hand. “You’re just looking out for your friends.”

She smiled again, laughter still glinting in her eyes, and Andi offered her a tentative one of her own.

“I do have one question, though.”

Andi felt her anxiety rise up a level. “Shoot,” she asked nonetheless.

“You do know I’m a lesbian, right?”

Andi dropped her cup. “Wh – what?”

Natalie laughed. “I guess not, then.”

Andi felt as if her entire worldview had been shattered. In her mind, Natalie had always been associated to Jonah, to her relationship with him. “But… you dated Jonah.”

Natalie raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, for like two seconds while I was still confused.”

“Oh.”

Andi tried to think of anything else to say. Natalie just laughed and shook her head, picking up the fallen cup and handing it back to her. “I'm actually dating Iris. That's mostly the reason I wanted to come back this summer.”

“Iris is on holiday,” Andi mumbled, trying to stop her brain from imploding.

“Yeah, that sucks. I'm staying over at her place when she comes back though.”

“Oh,” Andi said again.

Natalie laughed, pouring herself a drink. “You okay there?”

“Yeah, I’m just… surprised.”

“I can see that.” She shook her head, amused. “We’re good, right?”

“Yeah,” Andi mumbled, still trying to make sense of this. “Yeah, we’re good.”

“Cool.” She moved away from the counter, offering her another smile. “See you around, then,” she said before leaving the kitchen.

Andi stared after her until a couple of boys walked in and shook her out of her trance. She didn’t understand why she was so affected by this.

Yeah, for like two seconds while I was still confused

Of course, Amber had explained compulsory heterosexuality to her several times during her coming out, but hearing it said so simply, from a girl she had always assumed was straight… It was making her think, and she was tired of fighting her brain over what she should and shouldn’t think about.

The boys laughed loudly and she almost jumped, startled. She needed to get out of here, get some air. The living room was a no-go, she thought to herself as she squeezed between way too many sweaty people, catching a glance of TJ and Cyrus talking in a corner. She zoomed through the door as fast as she could, unsure as to why she didn’t want them to see her, and found herself in the hallway. There were at least three different couples making out and she shook her head, taking the stairs in the hope of finding a less crowded place. She was about to give up and just sit on the floor and hope no one disturb her, when she saw someone on the balcony at the end of the hall.

Amber was sitting alone, legs dangling down through the bars, and Andi found herself moving towards her.

“Mind if I join you?” she asked, knocking lightly on the doorway.

Amber shrugged, and Andi took that as a yes. She lowered herself to a crouch and, when Amber didn’t yell at her to leave, sat crossed legged on the other side of the balcony. It wasn’t a very big space, but she still managed to leave some room between them. They both sat in silence for a few minutes. Andi wasn’t sure if she was waiting for Amber to say something, but it seemed as though the other girl could not have cared less for the company. She continued staring ahead, legs occasionally swinging slightly, and generally ignoring Andi’s presence. Andi was beginning to consider leaving and pretending this had never happened, when Amber reached on her other side and took a half-full bottle of wine, taking a huge gulp.

“Woah, you might want to go easy on that,” she said before she could stop herself.

“Don’t worry,” Amber said bitterly, “I’ve gotten really good at this.”

And that… didn’t sound good. Andi might not exactly like Amber, but she didn’t resent her to the point that she could ignore her pain. She knew it wasn’t her place, especially since she had only realised Amber’s home life wasn’t easy earlier that day, but she couldn’t bring herself to continue acting as though Amber was fine when she was clearly not.

“Is everything okay at home?”

“Andi, I’m fine.”

Amber turned her head to look at her for the first time since Andi had sat down. She looked – well, Andi wasn’t sure. Her first instinct had been to think wrecked, but on closer inspection she couldn’t understand why she had thought that. Sure, Amber looked maybe a little tipsy, but aside from that there was nothing inherently wrong with her appearance. And yet…

Andi bit her lip in worry, and Amber’s eyes softened.

“I swear,” she said. Her lips twitched. “I appreciate the concern,” she added more gently.

Andi breathed in. “You sure?”

“Mhm-hm.”

Amber took a sip of wine, before pausing and, after a moment, offering the bottle to Andi. Andi shook her head, and Amber shrugged, taking another sip before setting it down.

She’d gone back to staring in the distance, and Andi found herself taking the opportunity to look at her. Despite Amber’s reassurance, she could feel worry churning in her gut; she wasn’t sure when she’d begun to care, but despite their constant arguing it appeared Amber had managed to worm her way into Andi’s – well, not heart, but at least an important part of her life. And for the first time in a really, really long time, Andi didn’t want to fight.

She couldn’t tell how long they sat that way, perfectly content in silence with Amber sporadically sipping wine. Andi occasionally snuck a few glances at the other girl, originally to make sure Amber really was okay and that her drinking wasn’t her spiralling, then simply because she wanted to. There was something so beautifully peaceful about the way she was sitting perfectly still, staring into the night as if it could rescue her from all of her troubles, and Andi suddenly wanted to draw her, to keep this image with her forever. But even if she had anything to draw with, she wasn’t sure she could look away.

For some reason, she couldn’t shake her interaction with Natalie.

“How did you know you liked girls?”

Amber whirled around, displaying more energy than she had had since Andi had arrived. Her eyes were wide, and Andi felt her cheeks heat up. She hadn’t meant to blurt that out, it just sort of… happened.

Amber fully turned to face Andi, folding her legs under herself, suddenly looking much more sober. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m just curious,” Andi said, the words sticking to her throat. Amber didn’t look convinced, so she went on. “And I figured you’d be the only one not to ask me questions.”

Which was true. But is also wasn’t the whole truth.

Amber’s expression was unreadable. “It just never felt right with the boys,” she said, leaning both elbows on her knees. “I wanted them to like me, but once they did, I was just obsessed with making sure they still liked me, you know? I never cared about them as much as I wanted them to care about me.” She rested her chin in her hands. “Which sucked. For everyone involved.”

Andi nodded thoughtfully. “And it was like that with everyone?”

“Yeah.” She took the bottle, twirling it in her hands. “And even when I wasn’t being controlling or a crazy girlfriend or whatever, it just felt… wrong. I don’t know how else to describe it.” She set down the bottle, and Andi felt more relieved than she expected. “I had to face the fact that I was just kidding myself eventually. Cyrus helped a lot with that. Jonah too, surprisingly.” She let out a small laugh, although Andi couldn’t for the life of her understand what was funny. “I mean, it seems obvious looking back. It took me a while to realise it, though. Compulsory heterosexuality’s a bitch.”

Andi had heard that from her before. “Yeah,” she murmured. Amber glanced at her. “I can imagine.”

Amber opened her mouth, a curious look in her eyes, but just shrugged. “And then, you know, I finally let myself accept that the feelings I had for girls weren’t…” she paused, searching for the right word, “… platonic. I really liked them, and I stopped telling my brain to shut up when I thought about it for too long, and…” Andi was definitely not thinking about how familiar that sounded. Amber waved the rest of her words away. “I didn’t really know how to handle it, though, so I was kind of a bitch at times.”

“You’re still not the nicest person to me,” Andi said before she could stop herself. She immediately wanted to take it back, but Amber just raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth tugging up in amusement.

“Oh yeah? Well, you’re not exactly the nicest person to me either, Mack.”

Andi opened her mouth to apologise, but Amber already seemed to have moved on, taking a swig of her drink. Andi was starting to worry about how much alcohol she was consuming (not starting, more like continuing to worry).

She watched as Amber put the bottle down, her eyes setting into the distance again, and blurted out her next words before she could stop herself for the second time that night.

“I don’t hate you, you know.”

Amber turned to look back at her. “Huh?”

Andi swallowed. Amber’s comment from that morning had been bugging her since they had talked on the sidewalk, and she wanted to set things straight. “I mean, you’re a real pain to be around sometimes and one of your favorite pastimes seems to be making fun of me, but. I don’t. Hate you, I mean,” she finished lamely, fumbling for her words.

She expected Amber to laugh it off, or, most likely, to just ignore her and take another sip of her drink. Instead Amber turned so that she was fully looking at her, her eyes shining in the moonlight, and there was the hint of a smile on her lips.

Finally, just as Andi was about to ask her to stop looking at her like that, she straightened up and smirked. “Don’t hate you too, Andi.”

She passed the wine bottle over to her again, and this time Andi took a small sip, her eyes never leaving Amber. She was looking away now, and Andi suddenly wanted to start talking, about anything, anything that would make Amber look at her that way again.

But instead she just smiled slightly and handed the bottle back to her, not wanting to upset the precarious exchange.

#my writing #ambi #smitimb #andiman #amber #ambi fanfic #andi mack

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