Notes:
This fic is very, very loosely inspired by this ancient story prompt requesting a Zack/Angeal story back in 2009 (Yes, it's almost 12 years old now. Remember, kids, everything lasts forever on the internet): crack-rack . livejournal 7790 . html . ?thread=957550#t957550. (Remove spaces to get a functional link)
However, I didn't actually follow the prompt; I just used the basic idea of Angeal having done a centerfold once in his youth and an old copy coming to light. FYI for full disclosure: I don't know if Zack is ever going to appear in this fic. It's up to over 25K words already and still no Zack in sight. Also, there's never going to be any of the requested smut/kink. Instead, the idea of a youthful indiscretion becoming an interdepartmental, corporate hot potato and PR nightmare just plain amused me so I ran with it. There was a real response written for the prompt back in 2016, if anyone is interested. You can find the story on AO3 by search or on a link to it in the prompt discussion (Centerfold by pt_tucker on AO3. It's an amusing read).
Warnings: Incompetence. Innuendo. Drinking. Bad language. F-bombs. Characters being obnoxious and leering. OOC characters may be annoying to some readers. Suggestions of nudity in a photo, but nothing is graphically described. So many clichés (you'll know them when you see them). Crack. Mostly fluff.
Characters: Reno, Rude, Cissnei, Tseng, Veld, OCs of Temporary Importance, Sephiroth, Angeal Hewley, Genesis Rhapsodos, Others may be added.
Canon? Canon? We don't need no stinkin' canon. Same with the timeline, so don't expect this to work into any of the various timelines around. I've made adjustments to the ages of many of the characters to avoid having some things become too creepy.
Honestly, this story was originally supposed to be just a few thousand words of fluff 'n' crack but it kind of got away from me. Enjoy!
Snowball Effect
By
Tiffany Park
Chapter 1: Discovery
"Damn it," Reno growled as he caught sight of battered storefront in the slums. "Fucking orders."
With profound resignation, his partner Rude just looked at the sign that proclaimed "Haru's Used Books and Magazines" in faded—but still identifiably black and fluorescent orange—block letters. "Standing orders to check for old copies when possible."
"Standing orders from years ago." Reno glared at the shop. "Should be a non-issue by now. Sometimes I really hate this job. Why couldn't that lead about AVALANCHE have panned out? We'd be chasing them now, not doing...this."
"It was your idea to take this shortcut."
Reno grumbled, "Fucking idiotic SOLDIER morons. More muscles than brains." He gritted his teeth and, beckoning to Rude, marched into the store with as much enthusiasm as he might were he going to his own execution. A very public one.
The shop had seen better days. Much better days, but then, it was in the slums so disrepair and dust bunnies were to be expected. Both Turks went straight to the cashier and asked about old porn magazines. The clerk didn't even look up from whatever he was reading on his PHS, instead just waving a hand at the far corner of the store. A bin there awaited Reno and Rude, full of old periodicals for two gil apiece, or ten for fifteen gil. The magazines were in varying conditions from tattered to near-mint, and with a range of cover subjects, some surprisingly tame. Reno sat down cross-legged and divided the entire contents into two messy stacks on the linoleum floor.
"Take half," he said curtly.
Rude pushed his sunglasses higher up on his nose and joined his partner on the floor.
After about thirty minutes of sorting in silence, Rude said, "Found one."
Reno pinched the bridge of his nose as though he had suddenly developed the world's worst headache. "Ah, jeeze."
"It's really not a bad picture." Rude was looking at the centerfold. "It's kind of tasteful, actually, with that soft lighting and the way he's posed. Good photography, too."
Reno just muttered obscenities under his breath.