Since I’m sitting here waiting for my flight, I had some thoughts. I’ve read a few fics where Sam and Bucky have meet cutes in airplanes and a couple of meet uglies adjacent to flying (but trip related and then later they encounter in the airport), but what about meet uglies in the gate?
Maybe the two of them are waiting for a flight to New York or DC and while the two of them think damn that guy is hot something happens, maybe someone bumps into someone and gets a drink spilled all over or something of the sort. It’s an annoyance but then they sit in different areas away but somehow still in eye contact range lol
But then it comes to boarding and then it turns out they’re seated next to each other. What are the odds. Now they have to handle this flight and maybe they normally wouldn’t be as annoyed but they both had to deal with obstacles getting to the airport for different reasons so they just wanted to chill once they made it through security and on the plane.
So they kinda rub on each other verbally but also they really start getting into the banter so suddenly it’s not just like “ugh you got my shirt ruined and I didn’t pack one in my carryon!” But like “you like WHAT on your pizza??” Type vibes.
Anyways that leads to admitting things they wouldn’t normally say in a first time encounter with someone but it’s not like they’re seeing each other again, right? They’re on separate vacations and just happen to be on the same flight.
Wrong.
Now they’ve gotten their luggage and their separate ways but when their rides take them to the same place?
Looks like their vacations got a whole lot more interesting.
(Even funnier is if the place they’re meeting at is like Steve’s wedding or something and they’re groomsmen lol But any other variations of where they meet is fun!)
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these violent delights have violent ends - a Lokius Oneshot
Written for 2023 Fictober prompt #29, "That's all? Easy."
Fandom: Loki (TV)
Rating: Gen
No warnings!
Summary:
Mobius is one of the strangest mortals Loki has ever met.
He's simultaneously the most snarky individual he's had the pleasure of meeting (barring, perhaps, Tony Stark) and also somehow the most patient anyone has ever been with Loki.
He smells faintly of saltwater and cigarette smoke, despite having never smoked a day in his life.
He can be cruel when he needs to, but he is an exceedingly emotional man. He's not built for the power he has. He works hard to hide it.
And Loki, despite himself, is hopelessly in love with him.
Originally posted: October 19th, 2023
Wordcount: 704
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Mobius is one of the strangest mortals Loki has ever met.
He's simultaneously the most snarky individual he's had the pleasure of meeting (barring, perhaps, Tony Stark) and also somehow the most patient anyone has ever been with Loki.
He smells faintly of saltwater and cigarette smoke, despite having never smoked a day in his life.
He knows far too many things about Loki for comfort, and yet Loki finds that he's more comfortable around the man than he has any right to be. Mobius puts him at ease, and the feeling of his hand on Loki's shoulder tugs far too many heartstrings.
Shortly after he'd told the man that he'd never had candy before, (a small and unintentional lie, as Alfheim had various confectionary treats he had enjoyed as a child, none of them resembling Kablooie in the slightest) he'd bought Loki a pack of M&Ms out of a vending machine stationed outside the courtroom. He'd shoved the bag in his pocket at the time, and Mobius had warned him, "Those'll melt if you leave 'em in there too long." (They didn't. His Jotunn nature is good for something, at least.)
He's infatuated with jet skis, a Midgardian invention which Loki can now recite a number of facts about due to Mobius's ramblings about them.
He can be cruel when he needs to, but he is an exceedingly emotional man. He's not built for the power he has. He works hard to hide it.
And Loki, despite himself, is hopelessly in love with him.
He isn't sure what to do with the feeling, at first. It scares him, to be in love. It's a weakness, a vulnerability. And while it seems like those are popping up a dime a dozen these days, being in love is a new one. He thought he'd experienced it in the past, short-lived dalliances with boys in Asgard (Fandral being a memorable example), but nothing had been like this.
And the worst part?
Loki caught a glimpse of tousled grey hair around the corner, rushing towards it. When he rounds the corner he drinks in the sight of Mobius's face, missing the lack of recognition in his eyes in his relief.
"We made a terrible mistake."
He didn't realize it until he'd lost him.
B-15's eyes flicked between the two of them when the elevator doors opened. "Mobius. Loki." She greeted both of them, as she did often now. It was odd to find one without the other these days.
Mobius gave her a mock salute. She didn't react, and he sighed, dropping his hand. "Alright, lay it on me, what's going on?"
She adjusted her tie, putting a hand on her hip where her pruning stick used to be. She looked overworked, but everyone did nowadays. You don't rebuild an institution from the ground up easily. "Casey requested your help. Both of you. Apparently he's been trying to repair a Tempad and something's been messing him up." She turned away from the elevator and began to walk away. The two of them rushed out of the elevator to catch up. "I would've just sent him to Ouroboros, but he's busy."
"That's all? Easy." Mobius murmured, a smile playing on his lips. He bumped shoulders with Loki as they walked behind B-15, and Loki grinned back.
Loki isn't scared that Mobius won't like him back.
"You're the god of mischief, right?" Mobius asks him rhetorically, and Loki tilts his head, smiling at him over the pie that he was pretending to enjoy for Mobius's sake.
(Well, maybe he is. Just a little bit.)
"You're the problem." X-5 tells him, and he can see Mobius shift on his feet in his peripheral, clearly wanting to deny, wanting to comfort - but not wanting to interrupt whatever fragile machinations he's sure Loki's attempting.
Loki is scared that Mobius will never like him back, but he's far more scared that one day, he will.
Because inevitably, he will hurt him.
Loki walks away. It isn't the first time he's done it. But he walks away all the same. He'll bring the man a slice of pie, later, while they're waiting for the world to end. He's never been skilled at apologies.
[ Grimmjow how do you feel about the scar Nnoitra gave you? What does through your mind when you see it? ]
The scar...?
Mm. If he looks down at his chest, he can't see it. It rests too high on his neck, cuts a crescent through his only other scar and wraps up and around the side of his throat, and ends behind his head near where his trapezius attaches to his skull. Deceptively thin for the amount of damage it did. The scar tissue runs deep, had severed veins arteries and muscles in it's passage through Grimmjow's hierro. His spine had caught the brunt of it. He doesn't know how much, or how bad, but.
He really did think he was gonna die. Couldn't move. Couldn't feel. Could barely breathe. Maybe he wasn't. Maybe he stopped and he just couldn't tell 'cuz he was too busy bleeding out faster than he could notice himself suffocating.
In the haze of his vision and the ringing of his ears, all he could see was Kurosaki's color-smudged back. He could feel Nnoitra though. In the air, in his blood. Fucking Bastard!
It was a cheap shot. There was nothing honorable about it and- and fucking DAMN IT, he's not owed shit. He knows he's never deserved a goddamn thing in his life or death or anything in between but shit.
It still fucking stung. (He wanted a better death.)
He can't see it, but he can feel it. His skin is tight there. Where Kurosaki's scar frizzes and fizzes with power, bright and convective, Nnoitra's is a heavy thing. Never healed cuz Grimmjow couldn't heal it. His reiatsu refuses to run through it, all blocked up. His hierro is thinner there, and when the weather turns, it aches. Or it aches for no goddamn reason. He still thinks he can feel Nnoitra in it. A black, despairing sinkhole.
It's not a stain, per say. He survived, and Nnoitra didn't. It's evidence, a reminder. Sometimes he finds himself rubbing at it for no good reason - doesn't make it better. Doesn't fix it, or heal it, or change the fact that he'd spent months in the sand struggling just to breath. Doesn't change the fact that he'd lost ten kilos of muscle, body wasting away in paralyzed fear, and still hadn't gained it back. Doesn't change the fact that there was not a single fucking person who went lookin' for him, who cared if he lived or died. Didn't change shit. Didn't change shit.
It's just another scar. Just one more scar to carry with him and never ever forget. Another lesson he wears on his skin.
"Why would I think a goddamn thing about it?"
[ Just as a very minor addition, the scar isn't always drawn 'accurately'. Sometimes it bisects Ichigo's, sometimes it's on his neck, sometimes it's more on his shoulder, and sometimes it's not there at all.
I personally give Nnoitra the benefit of the doubt and assume he could not POSSIBLY miss when Grimmjow was in the state he was in. He was aiming to decapitate and therefore there's no reason he shouldn't have caught Grimm good and well across the neck where he was aiming.
Grimmjow's not even lifting his head here. Both arms are gone, accessory neck muscles are innervated by cranial nerve - so theoretically he should be able to move those (unless ofc Nnoitra severed CN12 too) - but he is dead still. And dead quiet.
That, in my mind, is a nice little spinal cord injury there. Grimmjow's not getting up any time soon. he's not doing anything anytime soon. it's a miracle he survived at all, and I'm not surprised so many people assumed he died off screen. I did too.
Also... I really really REALLY love grimms expression on this page. Talk about a phenomenal character exit/entrance (for Nnoitra) it immediately set a great tone I think. Nnoitra took literally 2 seconds to remove the one think standing between him and Nnoitra. If Nnoitra went to strike him down here, no way would Ichigo be able to interrupt it again.
“I don’t want to think about what I’d be like without you.”
-
“Yeah, uh-huh, and you wanted it to list - yes, your sister in-law’s address as yours, too. Right. And that was 46 Caravan Place in - oh, alright. Got it. I’ll send you the license and passport as soon as your check clears. The birth certificate and social security numbers come after the second payment, you know.” Gavin glanced up as Jeremy walked into the little office Gavin had set up in downtown Los Santos. The curtains were partially drawn. The filing cabinets he had once helped put into the room were now stuffed full of folders, files, documents, unclaimed IDs. What had once been the private bathroom no functioned as a dark room and general workshop. “Right, okay, thanks.” He hung up before turning back to his laptop. Jeremy didn’t need the full on welcome to know to sit down in one of the chairs across from Gavin’s desk.
“How’s business?” Jeremy asked.
“Always busy. Filled four requests today and got another six in. But everything’s good so far.” He started typing, probably filling in the information on one of his client’s licenses or passports. “And can you let Alfredo know I’m gonna need him down here on Friday? There’s a whole family from Mexico City coming up and you know my Spanish is still barely passable.”
“Not Lindsay?”
“She’s better for the people who have been living here a while. They only got here a week ago, according to some church member that put them through to me. It usually makes them feel better to have a guy like ‘Fredo translating,” he said with a shrug.
“Okay, I’ll text him. Geoff also said he has some new work for you, if you’re interested.” Jeremy slid a manila folder he had kept under his jacket across to Gavin’s side of the desk. “It’s twenty grand. Some sponsored corporate espionage.”
Gavin opened the folder but didn’t seem to do more than a very cursory once-over. “Easy. When does he need it by?”
“Two weeks from tomorrow.”
“He’ll get it in one.” Gavin turned his chair to start typing again, before he seemed to realize that Jeremy was there. Not Trevor, Jack, or Ryan, or someone he maintained a more professional relationship with. Jeremy. He slowly turned to face Jeremy properly. “Hey love,” he said, voice quieter than it had been. “How’s your day been?”
“Better, now that you can give me the time of day.” Gavin flushed.
“Sorry, I can’t help it. Feels like every case I get is urgent.” Jeremy nodded. Aside from the papers and crowded filing cabinets, Gavin’s office had a few personal touches. A picture of a family standing close together was framed on top of one of the filing cabinets, a few thank you cards and little kid drawings stuck on by magnets at the sides. For as callous as Gavin projected himself to be, he had a bigger heart than anyone Jeremy knew, especially in the underbelly of Los Santos.
Which was why it pained him a bit that morning, looking at the date on his phone and realizing he had been away from England a whole year longer than any of his friends or family thought. Actually, most of them thought he had disappeared, was killed, abducted, something.
In reality, he had done a short stint at an IT company in Los Santos, met Jeremy, and, when realizing what he had done for a living meant they could never get married, that Gavin couldn’t gain residency if he was even suspected of being involved with the Crew Jeremy ran with, he let his visa run out, and didn’t return. He had never mentioned feeling any regrets - he took to the criminal world like a duck to water, even if one could argue he tended to tread on the morally correct side with the illegal forgery business he ran. But Jeremy couldn’t help but wonder...
“Should we do anything tonight?” Gavin was saying.
“Huh? What?”
“Well you don’t always come down to the office. Why don’t we walk back home together? Stop and get something to take with us. Or we could go out proper. I’ll just need another twenty minutes to get this file set up for tomorrow.”
“Yeah - yeah let’s pick something up on the way back.” Gavin looked at him like he wanted to ask something else, but instead just sent him a smile, and returned to his typing.
“Is everything alright?” Gavin asked. He was swinging an oversized grocery bag full of burgers, fries, and chicken tenders in one hand, milkshake firmly in the other. “You’re really quiet today.”
“Oh, um.” They could see their apartment building one block down. “No, it’s nothing -”
“Is it because I should’ve been on a flight back to the UK a year ago today?” he said casually. Jeremy glanced at him. “What, you think I don’t know my own schedule?”
“Maybe I don’t.” Gavin smacked his leg with the bag of takeout. “No, it’s just - I know you like it here, I guess I just feel...weird, sometimes.” Gavin looked back at him. “Like I’m holding you back, you know?”
“Not really.”
“Well, if it weren’t for me you’d be - back home in England by now. You’d probably have a normal job in IT or something. Not hacking for us and the other shit you have going on the side.” Gavin chuckled, but didn’t speak up until Jeremy got them into the apartment’s foyer, and into an elevator.
“Jeremy,” he started, pressing their floor number. “The Crew owns a private jet. I’m apparently the best person to go to for a fake passport in the whole city. It’s not that I can’t go home and make up some story and hire a lawyer to get me out of any trouble that comes up. It’s that I never wanted to. Not after I...” He sighed, and gave Jeremy another look with those bright hazel eyes of his. “I don’t want to think about what I’d be like without you, J. That’s that.”
The elevator doors opened.
“Come on,” Gavin prodded, walking down the hallway. “Gotta eat these before they get cold!”
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