Whenever you get tired with the state of the world, you should think about the arrivals gate at the airport. People nowadays start to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but that's not always the case. It seems that love is everywhere. Often, it's not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it's always there - fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends, new friends. When every great war happened in history, none of the messages from the soldiers involved were messages of hate or revenge - they were all messages of love. If you look for it, you'll find that love actually is all around.
❅TWO WEEKS TO CHRISTMAS❅
"And here he is, everyone, the man of the hour- it's Phil Coulson, with his new single out, "Christmas is All Around! Now Phil, do you feel emotionally connected to this song that you recorded, and the message it's sending out?" the radio host asked, and Coulson leaned back in his chair.
"Uh, not particularly, no," he said, rubbing his chin. The radio show host raised his eyebrows, and behind the glass, his manager, Nick Fury, smacked his forehead. "Um, alright... do you have confidence you can reach the top five songs this season?"
Phil actually laughed at this. "God, no. No, to be perfectly honest, I think this song is the worst piece of crap I have ever recorded in my life." The radio show host was gawking at this, and Nick Fury had his head in hands.
"Okay then. Well, uh, in light of your new release, we're going to play it!" Coulson squeezed his eyes shut. "Please don't," he shuddered, but the merry track of the Christmas carol he had recorded filled the air waves, and he groaned.
It was a beautiful winter day, also the day of Thor and Jane's wedding. People were gathering around, everyone they knew, their loved ones, friends, and especially Thor's brother, Loki.
They stood at the front of the spacious chapel together, talking quietly about the night before, the bachelor party.
"As I recall, it would have been a lot better if you didn't pass out," Loki reminded his best friend, and Thor laughed. "You know me, brother. I am never one to sit out a good celebration, with mead as good as that. I shall never stop my festivities!" Loki raised an eyebrow. "You'll be a married man soon. You're going to have to." Thor sighed, though all in jest. "True."
They all looked back as Jane came into the room, and walked down the aisle, dressed in a beautiful white dress. She smiled at Thor, and they said their vows, kissing. Everyone cheered, and Loki had caught it all on tape. Now it was time for the reception.
Loki sat by himself, watching everyone dance to the music. Someone sat next to him, following his gaze out to the dance floor.
"Okay, I'm just going to come right out and ask it," said a female brit's voice. "Do you love him?" Loki turned in surprise, then looked back at the couple. "Excuse me?" "The blonde, your friend who got married? Do you love him? Because you've been staring over there for the entire night."
Loki frowned, opening his mouth a little. "He's my brother." The woman's eyes widened, and she covered her mouth, laughing a little. "Oh goodness. Do forgive me, I didn't know." Loki nodded slightly, and went back to watching. "I'm Peggy, by the way." "Loki. Loki Laufeyson."
They all went home after a night of fun, and Loki went home to develop the tape.
James Rhodes came in, and found his good friend waiting in the entryway. "Oh... hey," he said, and his friend, aside from looking quite shaken up that he had come home early, smiled back in hello.
"Why are you here?" James asked, putting his coat away, and he rubbed his neck. "Uh, I forgot something the last time I was here." "Maria let you in?" "Yeah, she...she did." James smiled. "My wife sure is nice, huh?" The friend looked uneasy, and suddenly, a voice rang out from the other end of the house.
"Hurry up, big boy! I want you at least twice before James gets home!" Rhodey stopped putting his coat away, and looked at his friend.
A few days later, he was in a small country town, out in a lovely cottage he had acquired from his service in the army. After breaking up with Maria, he had moved out here, to work on some stuff he had to get done.
There was a knock at the door. "Coming," he said, and opened it. "Oh. Hello," he said, eyeing his housekeeper. She was obviously foreign, as she had interesting gold items of clothing on, and her dark brown hair was tied back in a tight ponytail.
She smiled. "Greetings. This is the correct house, I presume?" James nodded. "Yeah. You're Sif?" "That is my name. I look forward to working with you." James breathed out as he shut the door after her, thinking about her beautiful eyes.
Maybe this little break from real life wouldn't be so bad after all.
A limozine pulled up to the white house, and the doors opened as cameras flashed and people crowded. The newly-elected president got out, waving to everyone and smiling as he took off his sunglasses.
"President Stark," the hands nodded to him, opening the doors. He smiled back, and went in to the lobby. "Hello, sir, I am your butler, Jarvis," an older man said, and showed him in. "Would you like to see your staff?" "That would be a good idea," Tony said, following him to a line of people.
"This is Christine Everhart, she will handle your public image," he showed him a blonde woman, and Tony smirked appreciatively. He went through a lot of people, Tony making flirty gestures at most of them, then at the end, came a woman with long ginger-coloured hair.
"This is Pepper Potts, your secretary, sir." Tony looked at her, smiling slightly as she smiled at him. "Hello, Tony. Good to finally meet you." She closed her eyes. "Damnit, shit, I meant Mr. President." Tony laughed, and Pepper cast her eyes down. "Sorry." "Whatever. You could've said the big one, then we'd all be in trouble."
Pepper smiled, and nodded, leaving Tony to follow after Jarvis, who was already looking back to see what the hold up was. "She's gorgeous," Tony said, and Jarvis raised an eyebrow, staying silent.
He showed him to his room, and Tony looked up at a portrait of Abe Lincoln. He let out an exasperated sigh, turning to it. "First day, and I've got a hard on for one of my employees already. I bet you never had this problem, Abe." He stared for a second, then scowled. "Of course you did, you hot player."
Bruce Banner sighed as he looked at a picture of Betty on his desk, thinking back to the first time they had met. He missed her dearly, and spent every day thinking about her.
"Are you thinking about her again?" asked Harley, his 11 year old adopted son. Bruce looked up. "No." "Bullshit." Bruce looked at him, raising his eyebrows. "Oh yeah?" Harley crossed his arms, and Bruce rolled his eyes. "Fine, maybe I was for like, a second." "More like an hour." "Shut up, I was not."
Harley huffed, and Bruce got up, moving to the living room. He poured them some eggnog, and sat down on the couch. "What about you?" the scientist asked, "Do you ever think about your parents at all?" Harley shrugged.
"I don't really have any good memories of them, you know? They just left me there in that garage, and if you hadn't found me last Christmas, I would probably be in some orphanage now."
Bruce ruffled his hair. "Lucky for you, huh?" Harley smiled, and looked away. "But to be honest, I've got something a lot more heart wrenching than that right now." "Oh yeah? And that it?" Harley stared at him for a long time. "I'm in love." Bruce sputtered on some eggnog, and looked down at him. "What? Well, that's not so bad! I thought it would be something worse." Harley frowned. "What could be worse than the total agony of being in love?"
Bruce shut his mouth, considering this. "You have a point." They sat together for a second. "Tell me about her."
It was a regular day at the design office, a little busier than usual, due to the holiday season, but still a pretty standard day.
"Steve, in my office, now," a voice called, and Steve Rogers bit his lip, setting down his pen and putting down some paperwork. He went into his boss's office. "What is it, Mr. Wilson?" "Damnit, Steve, how many times do I have to tell you that we're on a first fucking name basis? Sam." Steve laughed, and looked down. "Alright. So, what is it, Sam?"
"How long have you worked here?" Steve thought about this. "I'd say, about three years, five months, and... 2 days?" "And how long have you been in love with Peggy Carter?" "Who?" "Don't give me that shit, Steve. The creative director, Peggy." Steve smiled, fiddling with his thumbs.
"Is it really that obvious?" "Damn straight it is." The blonde sucked on his bottom lip. "So how long?" Sam pushed. Steve hesitated. "Three years... five months... 2 days," he smiled, and Sam grinned back. "Yeah, s'what I thought. So when you gonna do something bout it?!" Steve shook his head. "Oh, god... she's way too good for me."
Sam crossed his arms. "Steve, have you seen the size of your muscles? What woman in her right mind wouldn't want to get wit dat?" Steve blushed, and got up. "Goodbye, Sam." Sam chuckled. "I want an invitation to your wedding!" "Yeah, yeah."
"A little to the left, please," the camera operator, Sitwell, said to the two doing the take of the intimate scene.
Natasha Romanoff, a woman with short fire red hair nodded, whipping back around as she moved left of the man she was supposed to be "having sex with," Clint Barton. They were body doubles, and were in the midst of acting out a scene.
"So," Clint said as Natasha pretended to fondle his chest, "Crazy traffic this morning, huh?" Natasha rolled her eyes. "God, it was horrible! Man, I was ready to get out and walk!" "Same here."
Sitwell came over, and gently put a hand on Clint's shoulder. "Sorry, um, could you just, hold her breasts while she touches you?" "Oh, yeah, sure." He blew on his hands a little to warm them up. "Sorry if they're a bit cold," he said, and Natasha smiled.
"Massage them, too!" Sitwell called, and Clint nodded back, doing as instructed. "Did you hear about the new President?" "Oh yeah! He seems like he'll be good, I hear he's got some pretty big plans." "Yeah, yeah."
"Alright, we'll do the oral sex scene now," Sitwell said, and the two got up, following him over to the wall. Natasha kneeled down. "Bury your hands in her hair," Sitwell said, and Clint looked down at Natasha. "Did it take you a long time to fix your hair this morning?" "Oh, no," she waved him off, "Just a little product, nothing special."
He nodded, reassured, and tangled his fingers shyly in her hair. "How about this weather?! Forget white Christmas, I'd say this year we're getting a white snow-in!" Natasha laughed, bobbing her head up and down as she pretended to give him oral sex. "Couldn't agree more."
"Perfect," Sitwell called from behind the camera.