#i do think he got some very unnecessary backlash and a lot of the problems in gr*d were also present in early balance | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deliciousscaloppine · 3 years

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Hot Takes Galore: A brief overview of fandom backlashes that influenced fanfiction writing traditions as I have personally experienced them:

In today’s segment I am going to talk about copyright infringement.

First let me preface this by saying I have only ever been in 3 fandoms, starting from 2008 and I have never been terribly active - like this blog has been the most active I’ve ever been in any fandom ever. I am not going to talk about particular fandom dramas because I am pretty clueless about that. What I am going to talk about is that friction between “reality” and online spaces that brought about changes that are still in effect today in the way fanfiction is written and perceived.

In 2008 as I was entering, nearly every piece of fanfiction had a disclaimer about the author not owning the characters, which were the property of Corporate Entity X, or Author Y, and also not profiting from the work in any shape or form. At the time getting money from writing fanfiction was a gigantic taboo, and almost no one did it, or advertised that they did.

But as I understand through convention culture printed writing did circulate in exchange for money (zines), and at least in Japan one could sell doujinshis (self-published stories and comics, often within the framework of another work) in certain events. Although this was largely considered “illegal” under copyright laws, and artists could be persecuted or blacklisted from entering the industry if discovered. That’s also why fanartists often to this day may screen where and when their work is viewed, and move to take down reposts, or call others to protest if artworks are circulated without permission outside of the artist’s page.

Older fandom people also hated authors that moved against fanfiction, a big case being Anne Rice, the vampire lady everyone - including me - copies when writing about vampires. And now I am going to talk a little about that.

Usually, writers, just sit somewhere cosy and write, and often they have no idea, absolutely no idea, on how to manage their writing properties - usually a lawyer does that, and lawyers want A Lot Of Money (A brief brush with justice and lawyers over a civil dispute I won, cost me 1000 euros out of nowhere, in a single day, and no I couldn’t avoid it because I was the accused one, so I had to appear with some representation).

So sometimes, quite often, it’s a lawyer that activates a writer or other artist to move against “smaller” copyright infringements, in order to make bank. And if one suffers such a case, they should make it as apparent as possible to the other party that they have no money, and the pressure will go away immediately. But even MORE OFTEN a small copyright infringement, may lead to a sequence of bigger ones, and ultimately the de facto loss of rights from one’s writing properties, and of course revenue.

And for a lot of published authors, they just don’t know for how long they can publish things - publishing houses that have them signed can close, book sales can drop, tastes change, personal problems, and anything else may mean that they could find themselves without a source of income at any point in the future, while they are aging and becoming more and more irrelevant.

A very famous case currently, is that of Alan Dean Foster, the writer who has done some novelizations for movies like Star Wars and Alien, and is no longer receiving revenue from that - while his wife is hospitalized and their family needs the income - because Disney absorbed the company that had signed the contract with him, and chose to not honor the previous contract. To make them pay he will have to go into a huge legal battle with a corporate giant, which he cannot afford. But they still absorb income from these novelizations.

But how does fanfiction tie into that, and Anne Rice’s case (which if memory serves right, also went through a series of personal problems, including her husband’s death during that time).

So for a lot of writers, fanfiction may be that tiny breach that may threaten their rights in the future from tresspases of distribution networks. Meaning, people write vampire fanfiction based on Anne Rice’s work? What if another publishing house used the template of her works (historical settings, bleeding orifices, religious themes, homosexuality and sexual trauma etc) and produced a royalty free series of such works with a team of professional writers that do not own the work - who often have less rights, like not owning the characters, or the storylines, participating in a very small scale, so their payment goes down etc)

And in this way EVERYONE SUFFERS. Big Name Published Author fades into obscurity and goes into poverty and payroll writers are horrifically abused.

A lot of hobbyists, and hobbyist writers whose sole dream is to be published in some shape or form, do not really care, and do not concern themselves with the legal aspect of creation, or the technical skill that it takes to produce writing on a consistent basis, which can only happen if you’ve got your basic needs covered. So they might see this type of backlash as inherently privileged.

But it’s not really a privilege, there has been a global recession in basic working rights for everyone, and lovers of fiction don’t have to condone, of course, attacks against them, but they need to put that kind of backlash in perspective. Someone did write the content you enjoy, THEY ARE NOT DEAD YET, and may have opinions on how it should be managed, especially when it pertains to their livelihood.

It’s a delicate balance that we all must keep in order to keep corporate regulations out of it.

For instance with the recent danmei explosion The Untamed brought forth, Ao3 was banned in China. Now a lot of you might know that this was caused by some real person fic involving the actor Xiao Zhan, which led to a whole other level of drama. But make no mistake this was a political act to protect the interests of the domestic publishing industry as it prepares to do an international opening that will bring in several billions from foreign markets.

Because Ao3 has been expanding as a platform globally it brings about changes, and in many cases steals readers away from traditional publishing, so it becomes unacceptable economically for a bunch of hobbyists to influence tastes, market mores, and create sensationalism around certain properties out of literally the blue. This is not a good thing for a lot of corporate thinking, they set the product and we are supposed to buy it. We are not supposed to go, it would look greater with a bunch of anal, and then put forth a million words altering the character of the intellectual property.

Why you ask? Again, because another publishing industry might choose to imitate the style of danmei fanfics and produce works that hijack readership, or lead to breach of contracts, making an unsafe environment for workers in this industry (Xiao Zhan’s case.)

Nowadays I see more and more fanfic authors coming out of their shell to ask money for writing in the form of donations, patronage and commissions, as fandom involvement is also becoming vastly monetized. The market of conventions coming into social media platforms. A strange more exists still in which while “legally wrong”, as long as money is not asked on the publishing platform (Ao3), it may not count as copyright infringement. But fanfic authors, may still be treated with hostility for this, for not “deserving” to profit from someone else’s properties, or even worse for “stealing” readership.

For instance a recent argument I have seen from lgbtq authors, is that they remain unsupported by fandom spaces, who often proclaim themselves as lgbtq or lgbtq friendly (something that is not true), but at the same time they are not looking for published lgbtq stories, or authors, or even treat these with open hostility, or a lot of bias.

Fandom is not comprised from “readers” in the traditional sense, definitely not friends of literature, and it’s free, no one really has to pay anything to read a published fanfic. So it’s a pretty loose demographic with no set characteristics, and no interest in investing time and money in something for long. It’s an online social activity and not a readers’ movement, highly influenced by peer pressure and branding. It’s basically a gigantic group of people who don’t really do anything for no one, and may develop a parasitic connection to intellectual properties (I am sorry peers, it’s the truth).

And it’s perhaps the biggest counterculture scene at the moment in the developed world. To this day it treats even its own authors with tremendous suspicion, disregard and dismissal, meaning that even if someone can get some money and recognition locally through writing fanfic they are on thin fucking ice at all times for all the reasons but mostly attracting unnecessary attention to themselves and subsequently the scene. A pattern that we will see is endemic to all forms of fandom backlashes.

So to this day in contrast with fanart, fan writers may not be compensated for their troubles, but may also be ousted from their domestic professional spaces for writing fanfic that may infringe on their intellectual property.

The thing is, for me, that fandom culture can become incredibly supportive of corporate practices that harm actual people (writers, they are people too) but when they realize that the same corporate practices may be used against them, it’s too late to realize that it’s not a lottery of who wins by crying more, and by the time that happens, a corporation or industry who has used them to do its dark bidding, can stop catering to them because ultimately they have become again irrelevant once a well defined demographic of readers and viewers has been secured.

So if you are going to do counterculture, at least do it right. Be respectful of the writers/authors of the content you consume and mindful of their troubles, do not generate public strife that brings in political regulation in favor of corporate interests. Become interested in writing culture, support your fanfic authors with lasting engagement in their work, even if it escapes the narrow confines of a certain fandom. It’s simple. Eat, live, pray, fuck, or something.

#fandom history?

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quicksilversquared · 5 years

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Scandal Scandal

Adrien is willing to put up with a lot if it means not making unnecessary waves. But everyone has their breaking point, and after Lila pushes a bit too far....

Well, she'll find that even the most tolerate cats have claws.

links in the reblog

Two months after the start of their agreement, Adrien was getting really, really tired of Lila.

At first, it hadn't been awful. Sure, she was clingy and annoying and manipulative and attention-seeking, but Adrien could tolerate her presence at his photoshoots. His photographer seemed to pick up on the fact that Adrien didn't like Lila hanging over him, and so he always made sure to pose them in positions that weren't touching, not giving Lila any ground when she tried to cajole him into putting them in closer positions. Adrien was used to putting up with unwanted attention, too, so that was hardly new.

But Lila wasn't so easily deterred. She would cling before and after photoshoots, pushing at Adrien's boundaries almost all the time. The constant suggestions that they should work on their homework together afterwards at his house- always approved by his father, if he happened to drop in on the photoshoot and overhear Lila's suggestion- were irritating, and Lila was always far more of a hindrance than anything else during their study sessions. On top of that, he had finally had to refuse to let her in his room, because she didn't seem to understand the concept of no snooping.

(Thank goodness for the Gorilla being firmly on Adrien's side, or else Lila probably still would have tried to drag Adrien up to his room to do their homework.)

Adrien always ended up having to stay up late those days to actually finish his homework and do his studying. As one of the city's superheroes, he shouldn't be doing that. He needed his sleep, and he needed to be able to get his homework done in a reasonable amount of time in case of an akuma attack.

But they were at an impasse. If Adrien didn't keep publically acting as though Lila were his friend, then she would start targeting Marinette at school again, and he couldn't let that happen. Adrien was worried that if he pushed back too hard when Lila pushed at his boundaries, she would consider their "agreement"- that she wouldn't try to get Marinette in trouble and that he would (at least publically) pretend to be her friend- null and void and go after Marinette again.

It was a frustrating place to be in, and Adrien's patience was fast wearing thin. His tolerance for Lila- for acting like they were friends of any sort, for ignoring it when she snagged him close for the sole purpose of pressing a lip gloss-sticky kiss to his cheek for a picture to post online, for even being near her- had gotten worn down to the point where Adrien was starting to wonder about looking into other solutions to the Lila problem.

And then Lila went too far.

There had been rumors about them before, of course. Lila's sudden constant presence at Adrien's photoshoots hadn't gone at all unnoticed, and the fact that they sometimes left photoshoots together- when Lila and Mr. Agreste forced study sessions on him- had only added to the rumor mill. The rumors had never been addressed, though.

Until now. Lila had apparently been approached, and she had decided to confirm to a reporter that she and Adrien were a couple. The news had zinged across the city, and Adrien had found out on social media that he was apparently one-half of a couple that he had never agreed to being part of.

And he. Was. Fuming. His patience was gone, snapped, the last strands so far gone that he couldn't even see them anymore.

"If she thinks that I'm going to keep playing along, she's wrong," Adrien told Plagg, pacing back and forth in his room. "She probably thinks that I'll just lie down and agree to play along, but this is too much. It's too far. I'm not- the very idea of being in a relationship with her makes me sick, after what she tried to do to Marinette."

"Some of your fans want you to have a photoshoot where you kiss," Plagg said unhelpfully, scrolling through Adrien's phone. "Or an announcement photo, because they think it would be cute."

Adrien tried not to gag at the thought and snarled instead. "Not happening. Not. Happening." He sighed. "At least Marinette knows why I've been letting Lila come to my photoshoots. Otherwise, I bet she would be feeling pretty betrayed and I don't- I don't want her to feel like that."

Plagg zipped around his head. "Are you going to just ignore the news, then? If your actual girlfriend knows the truth, it doesn't matter what the rest of Paris believes?"

"No way. If I don't stop Lila now, she's going to expect that I play the role of a boyfriend all the time, even if it's not true." Adrien scowled into the air, then the second part of Plagg's words sunk in. "And Marinette is my friend, Plagg, not my girlfriend."

Plagg only sniggered. "So you always say."

Adrien rolled his eyes at his kwami. This was not the time, really. He had too many other things to worry about-or, well, only one thing, really, and that was Lila's lie.

If Adrien didn't want to be forced into playing along, he would have to act. He hadn't wanted to before- confrontation normally wasn't his thing- but now...

Determined, Adrien headed for the door, a plan already starting to take shape in his mind. He was at least a bit famous, and the news about him dating was fresh and apparently exciting. That meant that if he could get outside, he would no doubt be approached by someone- a fan or a reporter, it probably wouldn't matter in the end. They would no doubt ask him for a statement and he could refute the news then, and it probably wouldn't be long before that news spread and got some attention.

Hopefully.

Partway across the atrium, Adrien paused when he heard his name come from his father's office. Curious, Adrien crept closer, crouching down behind a column and listening.

"-not what I anticipated her doing," his father was saying. "But I can't say I entirely disapprove. We'll have to give Adrien instructions to go along with it, anything else will just end up with a lot of backlash and bad press. A couple months of dating minimum, I'd say, depending on how reliable Miss Rossi is."

Adrien's stomach dropped. No, no, no, this wasn't what he wanted happening! He- he couldn't stomach fake-dating Lila, he really couldn't. Surely his father had picked up on how uncomfortable she made Adrien. Or if his father hadn't, Nathalie-

"Shall I tell him now?" Nathalie asked, cutting that thought off mid-sentence. Adrien could hear her take a step towards the office doors. "I can run up before the meeting."

"No, it can wait," Mr. Agreste decided after a heart-stopping pause. "We've neglected preparation for this meeting, so we need every minute. Adrien isn't going anywhere, and if he's doing homework as he's meant to, he won't find out about what Miss Rossi said until later anyway."

"Understood, sir."

Adrien had heard enough. As soon as the conversation had turned away from him and towards their upcoming meeting, Adrien made a break for it as silently as he could. Across the atrium, out the door, catch it before it could slam, close it carefully and then run down the steps and out the gate. Adrien glanced back for a second, hoping that he hadn't been seen and wasn't being followed, and then dashed for the park near the school.

If he was seen before he could talk to anyone, it would all be over. Adrien would be forced into dating Lila and wouldn't be able to do anything about it. If he tried, his father would know that Adrien had directly disobeyed orders and would be absolutely furious.

Thankfully, Adrien didn't have long to wait. Within minutes of him arriving in the park, Madam Chamack materialized practically out of thin air and approached him with an eager smile. Behind her, her cameraman and sound person were trotting along, trying to keep up. She made a beeline towards Adrien, no doubt very interested in getting the scoop on his formerly-secret relationship before anyone else did.

She was going to get a scoop, all right. Adrien was still too furious at Lila's manipulation and his father's plans to dictate his life even more to have any sense of filter anymore, and he was going to absolutely rip apart all of her lies and firmly slam the door on any chance of him being forced into a relationship with Lila.

"Adrien! We just heard this morning that you and Lila Rossi are dating!" Madam Chamack started, beaming at him in a way that was probably meant to look friendly but came off as more feverishly over-eager. "Congratulations! We would love to hear more about how you met, how you got together... I was wondering if you had a minute to spare to chat a bit?"

"Certainly," Adrien said politely, flashing his own smile. It was a little dangerous, a little too full of teeth. "And actually, Madam Chamack, that news was a surprise to me, too. I never asked Lila out, and even if she asked me, I would never agree. Lila is a selfish, intolerable, manipulative serial liar, and I only tolerated her to protect my friends."

This time, Adrien wasn't going to hold back. Lila had pushed him to a breaking point that he hadn't even known he had, and the kid gloves were coming off, and coming off hard.

Lila had wanted to be famous, and over the past couple months, she had gotten her wish. Now she was going to learn the hard way that sometimes, there were downsides to that fame.

Ten minutes later and no small amount of questions and explanations later, Madam Chamack had thanked Adrien and went on her way with her cameraman. To the best of Adrien's knowledge, the interview had been live, and Lila would no doubt be feeling the effects of her empire crumbling around her ears shortly. Adrien had torn her apart to the point that, unless Mrs. Rossi lived under a rock, there was no way that she wouldn't hear about Lila's lies shortly.

Everything had come out. All of Lila's lies that she had told about her life, all of the disabilities she had claimed to have, the incident where she stole his father's book from him and then threw it in the trash (which he had learned about several weeks earlier after finally asking Marinette how she had learned about Lila's lies), all of her attempts to manipulate students and teachers alike to get what she wanted, the months of "traveling" that she had supposedly done during the school year, the charities that she had supposedly founded, her blatant disregard for his personal boundaries and insistence on hanging off of him and forcing unwanted kisses on him, the attempt to get Marinette expelled and how that led to Adrien cooperating with her in order to get his friend's name cleared.

Madam Chamack had looked torn between absolutely shocked and absolutely delighted to get all of the information. It was a real scoop, and it was bound to get her a lot of viewers.

Which was exactly what Adrien had wanted. More people knowing the truth meant that there was less chance of Lila getting away with anything like she had been pulling before.

In one final fit of lingering anger, Adrien had called out the adults who had fallen for Lila's lies- the teachers and principal, mostly, but part of it was aimed at his own father. All of them were supposed to be protecting him and Marinette (and their other classmates, too), and they hadn't. They had sat by and not followed procedure for expulsion (which Adrien had looked up after that incident, in case Lila decided to try again) and not checked out Lila's claims at all or stopped Lila from hanging all over him or- or anything.

Adrien was pretty sure that he would regret at least part of what he said later, but he was just so angry about- well, everything about the whole situation- and he had just remembered Marinette's frustration and all of the comments Plagg had made about Lila, and everything had come out in a rush.

Still stewing, Adrien glanced around the park. There was no Gorilla in sight yet, which meant that his father and Nathalie were probably too busy with their meeting to notice Adrien's absence or what was bound to be a sudden and even larger spike of activity in his hashtag. That was likely to not last for long, though, which meant that Adrien should probably consider leaving the park.

Where he should go, though, Adrien wasn't sure. The school was closed for the weekend, and he didn't really want to deal with Chloe's clinginess, either, and the library was a little too far for him to be able to go without getting caught.

Before he had too much time to think about it, Adrien spotted Marinette across the park, hurrying towards him. He headed towards her, eager for some decent company, and then let out a surprised yelp when Marinette didn't even slow down, positively barreling into him to wrap him up in a hug.

"I saw the broadcast!" Marinette told him at once, beaming up at him. "And so did everyone else in our class, I think- my phone is positively blowing up with notifications, and- Adrien, you're shaking!"

Was he? Adrien refocused on himself, and- yep, Marinette was right. Now that the adrenaline high was wearing off, the full impact of what he had just done was setting in. There were going to be so many people hurt and confused and angry and his father was going to be furious, Adrien knew it already, and-

"Okay, let's move inside," Marinette decided, linking her arm through his and gently tugging Adrien towards the bakery. "Then there won't be anyone approaching you, and I'll make a cup of tea and Maman can bring up some croissants or a baguette or cookies."

Adrien let himself be led, more than willing to follow Marinette. They headed across the park, into the warmth of the bakery, and up to the Dupain-Cheng living room, Marinette leading the way.

Her arm through his didn't feel constricting or possessive like it did when Lila or Chloe did it, Adrien noted absently as Marinette led him to the couch and released him, letting Adrien seat himself while she went to put the teapot on. She didn't hold on as tight or drag him around or towards her. If Adrien had stopped or decided that he wanted to let go, he would have been able to.

There were a lot of things that he liked a lot better when Marinette did them, really. Her hugs were the warmest he had gotten in ages, her arms wrapped around his chest to give the most full-bodied hug she would instead of hanging off of his neck like- well, like both Chloe and Lila and the occasional fangirl who decided to ignore his personal space, and the occasional cheek kiss that he got from Marinette felt like it was for him, not self-serving and for show like the cheek kisses Lila forced on him always were.

Marinette was more genuine, that was for sure. When she did things for him, it was because she truly wanted to help, not because she wanted to be seen with him and get famous.

"Oh, I forgot to switch off the TV before I headed out," Marinette commented as she came back over to rejoin Adrien on the sofa. She tucked her phone into her pocket as she settled down on the couch next to Adrien, and Adrien caught the flash of her text messages inbox on her screen. It looked like Marinette had a lot of unread messages. "I just saw the news about Lila online, and then spotted you on the TV, and headed straight out."

"It's okay," Adrien managed, catching Marinette's wrist before she could grab the remote to turn the TV off. "I kind of want to see what's going on. I might as well be prepared, at least, and see what people are saying."

Marinette nodded, sitting back as Adrien released her wrist. "I guess it's good to know what's going on. Not that we can really change much at this point, I guess."

"Yeah, I might as well have started an avalanche," Adrien admitted, keeping one eye on the TV. A muted commercial was playing right now, but he was sure that the news would return soon enough. "But I just got so ticked off at Lila for trying to pressure me into a relationship by announcing that we were dating, and then I overheard my father talking to Nathalie and he, well..."

Marinette looked absolutely horrified, clearly anticipating his next words. "Was he going to go along with Lila's lie? Oh, Adrien-!"

"Yeah," Adrien confirmed, unable to help but feel validated at Marinette's response. "And with both of those together..."

"You'd want to slam the door on that possibility as fast and as hard as possible," Marinette finished, as though she was reading his mind. She reached over, squeezing Adrien's hand. "Don't doubt yourself, Adrien. Whatever comes next, Lila deserves all the bad press and publicity that comes her way. She's the one who put herself in that position, what with all of her lies and manipulation."

Adrien flashed a grateful look at Marinette, unable to be anything but grateful that she had pulled him inside. If he had been by himself right now, his guilt and second-guessing himself would be eating him up from the inside.

As it was... well, Adrien was anxious about what the fallout was going to be, that was for sure. Lila probably wasn't going to be the only one to get in trouble, and Adrien hadn't even checked his phone since getting inside, too nervous about finding a message from his father, furious at him for doing an interview that definitely wasn't approved.

At least everything would probably be worth it in the end. He wouldn't have to deal with Lila anymore, Marinette wouldn't have to deal with Lila anymore, and he wouldn't have to worry about being forced into a relationship with one of the most manipulative, deceitful, and downright unpleasant people Adrien had ever had the displeasure of meeting.

Adrien spent the rest of the afternoon at Marinette's house, curled up in a cozy blanket with his phone muted as they switched between ignoring the world while playing video games and watching the unfolding news coverage- and there was a lot.

Madam Chamack had taken it upon herself to make a beeline straight over to the Italian Embassy, where she had spent the better part of an hour camped out on the steps before being allowed inside and confronting Lila's very harried mother, who clearly had heard the news and was not coping well with it. Adrien felt a little sorry for her- Mrs. Rossi's coworkers were giving her rather dubious looks from their desks in the background- but seriously, how had she not managed to pick up on the fact that her daughter was such a liar?

Across town, Alec Cataldi had managed to hunt down Mr. Damocles and had followed him for a bit, trying to get his questions answered until the principal finally was able to duck away into his apartment building. There had been a lot of "no comments" or "that's classified information" or "we'll be looking into everything on Monday" in response to Alec's comments. That had only resulted in a fair bit of speculation on Alec's part as he re-stationed himself and his camera crew right outside of the Agreste mansion, clearly hoping for a statement about how Lila had started modeling for Gabriel and if she would be continuing but not quite daring enough to try the buzzer.

There was absolutely no sign of Lila at all, which was odd considering that (at least according to social media), she had been out on the streets, soaking up the attention that came with being Adrien Agreste's "girlfriend" only minutes before Adrien's interview aired.

Something told him that she wasn't going to be bothering him for a while. Even if her mom didn't immediately ship her out of the country, the legal trouble that Lila was going to be getting into was more than enough to keep Lila occupied for the near future.

Maybe Adrien would still have to deal with his father's displeasure about the press fallout from his impromptu interview, but, well, that was a problem for Future Adrien. For now, well, Adrien was more than content enough to spend as much time as he could with Marinette and her family.

He was free from Lila at last and honestly, Adrien couldn't be any more relieved.

#Miraculous Ladybug #My writing #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng

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asherlockstudy · 5 years

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I get that interview was HBO forced but it sounds insane when last season, he was saying Jaime needed to get away from her for good. I mean no nice post about Gwen after the last ep. I dont believe it was about not wanting to stir the hornet's nest if him and B didnt get together as he posted a huge loving one about Lena and that was a very controversial part of the plot. If hed know posted a gwen one saying"sorry JB didnt get a happy ending but here's me and Gwen in happier times" i dont get it

I think it’s very weird too…Imma analyze it. Not that I’m gonna reach any solid conclusion but I will just lay out all my thoughts.

Whatever the reason Nik doesn’t post or reply publicly to Gwen is, it has nothing to do with his personal preference for Braime or Jaime x Cersei. Even if we make the insane assumption that Nik appreciated that Jaime dumped Brienne to return to murderous Cersei and die with her without serving any purpose in the main plot (what lead actor of 8+ years would ever like being unimportant in the ending plot) and saw “pOeTRy” in it, it still doesn’t explain why he should prefer posting about Lena over Gwen. We would be naive to think he made a post about Lena and not Gwen because he prefers Cersei to Brienne. So, we still have no clear evidence of what Nik’s private thoughts and feelings are for his character after the ending.

Here’s what we have:

We have two interviews: one with HBO rofl and one with that journalist who collaborates with HBO and was an insider (I’m not gonna search his name) in which he stans Jaime’s choices, his love for Cersei and the tragic poetry in it all. Then we have him promoting the episodes and the documentary in his instagram and twitter, however he is entirely emotionally detached from his character and his fate. I would say he lowkey looks entertained in his weird af episode promo videos and secretly amused while filming the “thank you” video after the last episode where he says “Come on, it was great” and suggests a petition for an Arya (huh?) sequel.

We have two videos uploaded on yt with him: one is a video of a stalker in which Nik looks uncomfortable and passes the question to the random guy next to him who apparently happens to be a GOT fan, have an elaborate opinion on the last season, hate D&D and think they threw away Jaime’s beautiful character arc. What are the odds…The second is a skit in Jimmy Kimmel in which Nik drags his own character by making him stupid and clumsy, a sad little being because of his maiming and, most importantly, an unrepentant sister fucker. All of Jaime’s worst qualities displayed for laughs, plus that he’s actually a likeable but very stupid person. The skit ends with a dragon randomly burning him and his family alive and those credits

So, we have straightforward criticism towards D&D by Kimmel and NCW actually participates in it. This is what this skit means - that this level of writing, this kind of lame character and that ludicrous death is something that only Benioff and Weiss would like to produce. And, well, the Olsen sisters (although I think they’re cleverer than that).

So, we have two videos where NCW’s intentions are dubious AT BEST.

Then we have all the promos. When left to speak on his own, Nikolaj would say how the ending was beautiful and made sense and he once mentioned he sent a letter to thank them for this genius plot…Right. But then when asked or caught off guard (1:04):

youtube

Nobody tries to sugarcoat it, look at the title of the video: … NCW is ‘happy’. Then of course we have our Lady and Saviour Gwen who tries not to laugh as Nik struggles to find what to say and not just stand up and flee.

Also, this one. The best one:

youtube

I could make a thousand gifs for this but just watch again the entire video:

0:07 - Gwen’s face when Nik says he thought the script was fantastic

1:13 - “N-no..NO!!!” when asked if he would change something in the ending and Gwen’s reaction to that. Then, our leader Gwen proceeds to mock him: “So, it’s an immaculate- It’s immaculate?” to which Nik impulsively replies: “NO!” and goes on “do you ever read a book and think you want to rewrite this?” which implies, that yes he would want to rewrite it but knows he can’t.

(3:03 - 3:06) - VERY IMPORTANT ONE. When Gwen wondered who was closer to predicting the actual ending, Nik says “I was, yeah” and OMG look at Gwen’s face. It’s very subtle but she’s trying to communicate with her eyes a “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT” to him without being seen by the interviewer. It’s kind of a wife done with her husband’s shit look tbh, that level of subtlety. And Nik answers back with his eyes in equal subtlety and it’s like he says a “What? I truly was right lol….”. To me, this seems to mean that Nik always knew or feared that D&D would eventually destroy all his work and was eventually proven right. Unless this all is about Dany being killed by Jon but I doubt at this point Nik and Gwen cared enough to go all cryptic and eye communicating for this. No, it was about them.

3:09 - Nik is surprised and then clearly amused at the information by the interviewer that Kit was the one who came closer with his prediction. He can’t hide his smile and says an ironic “good for him” while looking knowingly at Gwen who then says this must be a lie. This shows that it is known amongst the actors that most of them are disappointed and Kit was one of them. Both Nik and Gwen apparently knew Kit hated his ending too and would never expect this to be how the show would wrap up. BTW that writing and that backlash really got to Kit, I hope he recovers soon. But think about this, Kit went into rehab for stress and alcohol, Emilia was devastated and gave a somewhat concerning interview and Nik’s public behaviour regarding GOT is inconsistent and unpredictable. I am thus assuming the writing of the final season and the backlash fucked them up way more than they let on.

This interview is a gem but here’s the most important part, perhaps the core of what baffles us:

1:32 - After all the miserable no-nos poor Nik mumbles, Gwen tells Nik what we all think: “I think it’s just a question, you know? Maybe you want to answer it?”

Of course he’s in a total loss for words. Literally, he doesn’t make any sense. Some incoherent sounds come out of his mouth and that’s it. This can mean two things: either he truly thinks the ending is perfect or the ending made him such a mess that he can’t even process it verbally two years later.

Either Gwen is much braver and Nik is extemely paranoid or Nik actually has many more restrictions in what he is allowed to say. I believe Gwen wanted Nikolaj to be as open as her about it and she still tries to make him open up but he doesn’t. In all the promos without exception, Gwen looks as if she knows Nik is full of shit and secretly agrees with her. If Gwen knows that for a fact, then we can’t argue and it’s actually what makes sense anyway. Nikolaj agrees with Gwen but is not eager to discuss it openly yet, or ever. This could be because he is very professional or because he doesn’t want to get a bad name as a “backstabber” of his projects or it might be a situation of a more sensitive nature.

If those rumours that the S8 script was changed are true, then Nik and Lena might have had a serious breakdown with D&D and a negotiation might have taken place. For instance, Nik and Lena were really unnecessary in E6, Nik’s scene in E1 could have been eliminated as well and Lena does not appear in E3. Yes, they are big actors but paying them 1,2 million for every episode seems a tad excessive when Emilia and Kit are now famous too and have like 300% times more screentime. All this is wild speculation but maybe they stretched their appearance in the episodes as much as possible and gave them a good amount of money to agree on the butchering of their characters and their importance as former lead actors. I mean, especially Lena was downgraded to a secondary character in this season. Lena had to really fight to see her salary rise in the previous seasons. And now it’s a million for every episode? Wow. How many minutes was she staring out of the window in S8? Maybe they were silenced and payed a shitload of money to stop complaining and promote the show and praise the writing as what it was supposed to be. Maybe they payed them in order to promote Peter, Kit and Emilia for the Emmys instead, who knows. When so much money is involved, things can get frustrating in ways we don’t even fathom. This is wild and rough speculation but all I’m saying is there may be reasons Nik avoids talking freely about his character that we can’t know.

Besides, it’s not just a Gwen problem. It is not a Gwen problem. Gwen revealed she sent a “Jaime is a fuckboi” meme to Nik privately and he answered playfully as ever (but again as if he’s in denial). They posted a story together a couple of weeks ago. Nik did not just ignore Gwen’s instagram post. Daniel Portman posted the photo and tagged Nikolaj too. Nik ignored him as well. Bryan Cogman, who Nik and Gwen owe a lot to, commented under the photo in a very sweet and emotional way. Guess what, Nik ignored him too! It’s ridiculous to think Nikolaj has stopped communicating and caring about Gwen AND Daniel AND Bryan just because his character returned to Cersei. Furthermore, the fact that they all keep tagging him shows they don’t think their relationships with him have become tense.

That’s not it. It’s not about Gwen. The only way that Gwen is involved in all this is that she wants Nikolaj to open up so that he would give a little acknowledgement to her character and the relationship with Jaime because she feels very much for Brienne. I’m sad to say, however, that it seems to me that Nik did not take that blow more lightly than Gwen. In fact, his behaviour is more inconsistent and troubling whereas Gwen’s openness about it made her confront that sore subject more healthily after all. I start believing Nik was actually way more devastated than Gwen. At least Brienne remained a decent character, ever faithful to her ideals, ever innerly strong. Jaime was entirely trashed, let alone that he was supposed to be a main character. If Nik can’t even handle a photo that reminds him of his destroyed character arc, I wouldn’t be surprised. Maybe Gwen wants Nik to open up so much for his benefit as well - he keeps it bottled up and she might know first hand how that affects him.

Long story short, the reasons Nik doesn’t post anything about his feelings for Jaime’s character arc, his relationship with Brienne and his collaboration with Gwen probably are both professional, after begrudging deals and agreements and restrictions from HBO, and very personal, inner and private, as he’s still trying to cope with a disappointment that crushed down on him from what used to be his dream job and a role he hoped would be a (or the) peak of his career. I bet all these years Nik was hopeful Jaime would be extremely important and fully redeemed in the end but also extremely scared and anxious that the writers won’t give him what he hoped for and what made sense. Would I exaggerate if I said this should be the biggest professional disappointment he ever experienced, provided that he didn’t like the character’s ending?

From everything Gwen has said about him, I have surmised that Nik is very emotional and anxious but with a very blasé and superficially amiable attitude. He avoids expessing emotion in real life which is why he might be dissociating a lot lately. He tries to distance himself from that part of Jaime’s character that involved Bryan and Gwen because this is the part that he loved and lost. Honestly, I can’t think of any other logical reason he ignored Gwen, Dan and Bryan one after the other and never made a post about his own character specifically or his good times with Gwen. It’s obviously not that he suddenly hates all of them to the point of not even replying. Even if HBO restricts him on what he can say in interviews for a while, there is no other explanation for this other than that D&D’s genius writing fucked him up emotionally as much as Emilia and Kit and he does not want to deal with it even though Gwen probably thinks it would be for the best if he did.

Now after I wrote all this, imagine if Nikolaj actually doesn’t give a shit and is just happy going on with his life while I am here wasting time. But… I don’t think so. I will never not believe Nik didn’t love Jaime to pieces. He had big dreams for this role, I am sure of it.

#nikolaj coster waldau #jaime lannister #gwendoline christie #nik and gwen #jaime x brienne #braime #got negativity #more

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nerdtrash-iteration · 4 years

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(Re)watching Doctor Who: series 8

So this was the first I saw of Peter Capaldi as the 12th Doctor outside of the odd YouTube compilation here and there. I was fairly sure I’d like him and wow I love him. Let’s jump into it. Series 8 (Twelfth Doctor) 8.1: Deep Breath I LOVED this opening episode. I had seen a lot of the funny regeneration stuff on YouTube already but it was great to see it in context. I think Twelve and Clara have excellent chemistry, loved seeing them bicker at the restaurant. Was legitimately chilled by the reveal of the clockwork people at the restaurant. Also loved the theming of the Doctor’s new face and what it means. Vastra and her veil, the Doctor saving Clara by using another face, the Doctor remarking to the Half-Faced Man that no real part of him remains. “You don’t even remember where you got that face from”. Also immediately taken by Missy. Excellent start. 8.2: Into the Dalek Slight step-down in quality here. Certainly an interesting premise, but I didn’t find myself overly interested in the setting nor the guest cast. Also wasn’t it obvious that fixing a Dalek would make it bad again? Why were they trying? I did like this episode for its character moments though. The Doctor to Journey Blue at the start trying to get her to be a better person: “C’mon, get it right”. And all of the interactions between him and the Dalek. Pretty compelling. Also Danny Pink seems alright so far, I like him. 8.3: Robot of Sherwood This episode is very goofy and the plot is really ehhh. But when I decided not to take it too seriously, I quite enjoyed it. I liked the banter between the Doctor and Robin. Wacky hijinks were wacky and fun. And I really liked the ending sentiment: “History can be a burden. Stories make us fly”. The rest of the guest cast weren’t used great but still a pretty fun episode. 8.4: Listen This is undoubtedly one of my favourite Doctor Who episodes ever now. It blew me away. Absolutely terrifying, particularly when the figure in the sheet was standing behind them. And the “DON’T OPEN THE DOOR” message. I also love all the theming about fear itself and the timey-wimey resolutions. Dying to rewatch it. 8.5: Time Heist I quite liked this episode. Fantastic opener. Pretty good side characters. And decent timey-wimey resolution. A lot of the cool concepts introduced here felt a bit underused though. Sure look, can’t be perfect. 8.6: The Caretaker This was a bit of a hard episode to watch. I do like the 12th Doctor a lot so far, but he was just awful towards Danny Pink in this episode. Like yeah I’m not a big fan of the military either but it felt really disproportionate. I’m glad he was called out and that he came around to Danny by the end. Quite liked the comedy moments between Clara and Danny. Plot was functional, but not the focus. 8.7: Kill the Moon I was warned beforehand that this episode had some awkward abortion metaphors afoot. I can definitely see that. First of all, I thought it was very well-paced and well-directed- the first half certainly felt scary enough and compelling. The guest cast really didn’t do it for me, only the captain was really worth noting. I do quite like Courtney though, even if she didn’t have much to do. I LOVED Clara’s outburst at the Doctor in the end, finally calling him out on his bullshit and how cold he can be. And okay the abortion stuff. I would consider the episode more of a trolley problem if not for the fact that they keep referring to the creature as a “baby”. And how it would “never feel the sun on its back”. I think it’s fine when stories make us uncomfortable and they need to challenge us through that. It was a legitimately hard decision, as abortion is for many people who are affected by it. In any other story, I would think framing the option of sparing a living creature as the right one is fine. But in a story with too many resemblances to an abortion metaphor, it just left a bad taste in my mouth. Also I was seriously bothered by how lacking in consequence the episode is. They vaguely allude to possible bad consequences of getting rid of the moon, but they really don’t take them seriously. The tides would be hella messed up, the internet being gone is more than just “doing without mobile phones”, Clara, Jesus Christ. As a friend pointed out to me, killing the creature with nuclear bombs would be extremely dangerous with all that radiation. And at the end it’s all fine???? The creature lives, lays a new egg exactly the same size as the old one (HOW??????) and the Earth suffers no consequences. I thought justifying it by saying this encourages humanity to get back into space was ehhhh. It really felt like the writer was desperate to have some kind of consequence. I still liked the episode overall, there were things I liked. But I can see why it can get many people heated. 8.8: Mummy on the Orient Express I was a bit disappointed in this episode as I had it quite hyped up by others. One of the main problems I found was that the set-up wasn’t given enough time. Like the Doctor realising that the train is full of experts: all he has to go on is the alien mythologist and the engineer. He really needed to find more people. Also the plot was resolved very quickly. Like the writer was running out of time and needed to wrap it up quick. It was a cool idea, having a soldier who is forced to stay alive, but I felt it could have been used better here. However I did really like a lot of the side characters here, particularly the engineer and Ms Pitt. I really like how it relates to the previous episode, with the development of Clara and the Doctor’s relationship. Really great stuff there, and they’re so good together. 8.9: Flatline This was a really fun episode! I loved the concept of the 2D invaders. Definitely creative and very creepy. I loved what they do with the TARDIS to make it an almost Doctor-lite episode. Really like how Clara takes charge. I’m not a fan of her lying to Danny about being back with the Doctor, it just feels like unnecessary drama. But a great episode apart from that with fun side characters. 8.10: In the Forest of the Night Huuuuuuuh. I had heard this wasn’t a great episode and yeah, this ain’t it. There are things to like though. I really like how the Doctor interacts with Maebh and the other kids. I think the kids that have speaking roles are decently funny and quite realistic. Quite like Danny and Clara together in this. But the plot is absolute bonkers and very unsatisfying for me. The details were frustratingly vague and honestly felt like it was being improvised on the spot. The consequences of the forest not being explored much, the premise doesn’t really interest me, Maebh being psychic was ehh, her sister coming back really made no sense at the end. The plot unfortunately reminded me of Small Worlds, which is one of my least favourite Torchwood episodes. 8.11: Dark Water I have mostly positive feelings on this finale with a few quibbles. I LOVE Missy. So much. Fantastic iteration of the Master. I wish I could like the kissing scene more, but she did kiss the Doctor without his consent. Which does make me uncomfortable. Aside from that, I think she’s great. I think the use of negative refraction to hide the Cybermen suits is really cool. I struggle a bit to get my head around the fact that there is an afterlife of sorts in the Doctor Who universe but eh, I can roll with it. I don’t know how to feel about Danny Pink’s death. I’m writing this after I’ve seen the next episode, so I know it’s permanent. I mistakenly thought he would be in series 9 so I initially didn’t take his death as seriously. But yeah wow it was really sudden and sad :( I don’t know how to feel about Clara’s behaviour at the beginning of the episode. It seemed a bit of a leap but I do get it. 8.12: Death in Heaven This is a really bombastic and action-packed finale which is really fun. Loved the names being switched in the opening and Clara’s eyes instead of the Doctor’s eyes being used. Tripped me up a bit. Like having Kate Stewart and Osgood back (for a bit). Love how Missy behaves while captured, some really compelling stuff there between her and the Doctor, and also Osgood. Clara and Danny’s interactions were certainly tragic, but I found it hard to believe that he didn’t obey Missy’s orders like the rest. Bit of a stretch but okay. Also why did the Doctor feel the need to connect him to the Cyber hive mind? Surely it was obvious what the Cybermen’s plan was. I also found it hard to believe the Doctor would try and kill Missy, but I guess Clara pushed him to that. I thought the Brig’s inclusion at the end was a bit cheesy but quite sweet, I did like that. I felt the theming with the Doctor being a good man wasn’t super satisfying here, but this is only the first third of 12′s run on the show. I know there is more to come. Also the ending scene with 12 and Clara hugging and lying to each other was so sad :( I remember friends of mine watched this at the time of airing and really didn’t enjoy the writing of the first few episodes and it was how they lost interest in Doctor Who. People can like and dislike different things, but i really don’t see where the backlash is coming from? I loved this series. There were some dodgy episodes here and there but I loved the central focus of 12 and Clara’s relationship. They are so great together. Listen is one of my favourite ever Doctor Who episodes now. And I love Missy. Really fun series and excited for series 9.

#Doctor Who #Doctor Who series 8 #Doctor Who recap

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acelucky · 5 years

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At some point I’m (hopefully) going to write more on this Season of Game of Thrones, but for now I just want to write about Sandor Clegane and that episode. There’s nothing I’m going to write here which hasn’t been said before but I think it’ll help me process it and deal with it better to write it out.

Sandor deserved so much better. Seeing Rory’s interview about it and how he felt did make me feel a little better, but I’m still honestly so heart-broken.

The Hound/Sandor Clegane has been one of my favourite characters both in the books and in the show now for years (since Season 2 and A Storm of Swords). I have loved his character arc, I have loved his sarcasm, his choice use of language, but most of all I have loved how much he cares.

I see people (and also D&D? I think) saying he has no one to live for. Have you not been reading the same books/watching the same show?

In a way I am comforted that during his life, despite his crap childhood and early years and being spoken to by Joffrey like crap - he did get to experience a good life with friends and love. He got to redeem himself for terrible things he’s done/said/threatened to do. One of the things I LOVED about this series is that very few characters were wholly good/evil, they felt real to me because so many are in the ‘grey’. So yes, despite the fact he died I am happy that he built a great friendship with Tormund, that he was there for Sansa and saved her, that he saved Arya, that he got to drink with ‘heroes’, that his life mattered. He got to see beyond the wall, he got to fight white walkers and live. He protected the Stark girls and came to love them. I am glad that we see that delicate smile he had for Sansa in Episode 4 (despite the poor script-writing which I won’t go into), that he cupped the back of Arya’s head, that he was seen as an equal amongst people like Brienne and Tyrion.

But he still deserved more. I’m kinda sick of the - If you thought this had a happy ending, you haven’t been paying attention memes. We get it, it’s Game of Thrones. No one expected a happy ending, I always expected a lot of my favourites to die, but not like this? The whole season has felt rushed and so much has been out of character, it feels lazy to me and like entire character arcs have been ripped apart in a character’s dying moments.

As someone who has PTSD - I loved Sandor’s character and felt Rory portrayed that incredibly well. But how ‘Cleganebowl’ was handled made me just feel rather sad and like such a great opportunity had been wasted. I suppose I never imagined it being whilst Dany was burning the city and with them surrounded by fire, it looked fantastic, yes, but I almost felt as an audience we were cheated? There was nothing satisfying in it as Sandor is once again horrifically hurt and tortured by his brother, that was made me feel sick.

During the episode ‘The Long Night’ I adored how Sandor’s fatherly love for Arya was what helped him overcome his deep-seated fear of fire. He went from a mess who had given up all hope and who was physically unable to move, to seeing Arya and realising this was bigger than him, she gave him courage and honestly I found that so beautiful. I also found it a lot more believable than when people see Sandor was able to overcome his fear of fire in ‘The Bells’ because the only thing stronger than his fear, was his hatred for his brother. PTSD doesn’t work like that (at least not in my experience - but I respect we all experience things differently).

When people say this, they are forgetting or not acknowledging the fact we have already seen Sandor fight against fire due to Arya and fundamentally because love is stronger than hate. So that part of the episode and the justification for him dying the way he does doesn’t really work for me.

I know that this is a show which has always had controversial scenes which have felt unnecessary and for shock value, but I really felt the fight between Sandor and Gregor was almost unbearable to watch. It was incredibly stressful and as much as I wanted to see them fight and Sandor get his revenge, this just didn’t match up with everything we have seen of his character in recent seasons and just felt disappointing.

As much as I wanted Cleganebowl, part of me hoped it wouldn’t happen after all. Once Gregor was no longer Gregor and was brought back by Qyburn, the fight seemed to have far less impact or gravity to it. Considering Sandor met his brother in Season 7 and could see the change, i’d hoped he might have left it. Especially considering conversations in the previous season regarding how Sandor was a new man (the whole - the hound is dead) and is alive for a reason, he has a purpose. Yes, he protected Arya, he survived the long night, he learnt what true friendship was like and helped to defend the realm of men, but I feel from what he’d said previously that the hatred was gone and replaced with love. Maybe that’s corny and maybe this is me wishful thinking, but when he told Arya to leave and not kill Cersei, I so wish he’d gone with her then, realising his brother would die in flames and rubble anyway.

Going back to the PTSD - one of the problems with Sandor’s end is that although he is finally at peace and he gets his revenge, it isn’t a happy ending for him. Hatred prevails over love, years of PTSD and suffering end with him dying with his abuser rather than him slowly getting better and learning to move on. Maybe I didn’t like the scene because it’s affected me so greatly on a personal level (I couldn’t stop crying, had nightmares about it and it triggered a lot of flashbacks from my own life). I am TRYING to see it in a positive light, trying to remind myself of the happy life Sandor got to live for a few years, that he made a difference, knew love and that yes in the end he died knowing he’d overcome his fear and killing his brother. But like others have said, whilst I believe Sandor to be a hero, I’m not sure I could say it felt like he died a hero, more a fool who could have been happy in Winterfell.

Anyway, I’m gonna end this here as I could end up rambling forever and repeating the same points over and over again. Essentially, after years of pain and abuse, I felt Sandor deserved a happier ending - but this is Game of Thrones so I guess I should have seen it coming. At least I have been able to take some solace in some of what I have written above and can still love and appreciate what a fantastic job Rory McCann did at bringing one of my favourite fictional characters to life.

I’d like to end this on a more positive note however after all the backlash this season has gotten. I still love Game of Thrones, the special effects, the costumes, hair & make-up, the cinematography, the music (Ramin you legend), the acting etc. continues to astound me and although I have felt this season has been incredibly rushed, that isn’t the fault of the actors or most of the crew/people involved in the show. Which is why I’m still looking forward to Episode 6 and to eventually watching it all again, in the mean time I’m off to write some fan fiction.

#Game of Thrones #Sandor Clegane #Spoilers #got spoilers #cleganebowl #probably nothing that hasn't been said before tbh #Rory McCann #asoiaf #gregor clegane #The Hound #ramblings #ptsd

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tisfan · 6 years

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A Foot in the Door

Title: A Foot in the Door Link: AO3 Square Filled: K5 - <image: Awesome facial hair bros> Ship: Stephen/Tony Rating: teen Major Tags: magic and science, awesome facial hair bros, first date, pre-slash Summary: Stephen wants Tony to build a magic missile… Tony wants to get a foot in the door for dating.

Word Count: 1,695 Created for @tonystarkbingo

"You want me to build a magic missile, what?" Tony didn’t bother to look up at the holocall. He was, actually, grateful that Strange had made a call, even if he didn’t have one of the projection phones so all there was in the image was a static picture of Strange, selected from one of the many that Tony had taken. The fact that Strange was eating a hot dog and Tony had caught him mid bite had nothing to do with the picture chosen.

That was his story, and Tony was sticking to it.

"No, I want you to build a technical delivery system for magic." All hail the pedantic. Honestly, if Tony could get past the whole magic thing, Stephen Strange was pretty interesting. And he made a great straight man for Tony’s jokes, because Tony was almost positive the man did not understand humor at all.

"Magic Missile, that's what I said. It’s magic, and it’s in a missile casing, and you want me to build it,” Tony said. “I’m failing to see what’s wrong with my name.”

“There’s a failure to explode that I think would be a key component to missiles, but if you want to have your name on a dud rocket, I suppose that’s up to you,” Stephen said.

“My tech rarely fails completely,” Tony pointed out. “Sometimes it gets a bit big for its britches and tries to destroy the world, but it doesn’t… fail.”

“Exactly why I need you for the job,” Stephen said.

“Oh, that wasn’t condescending at all,” Tony remarked. “So, what can I do for you, and how exactly--”

Tony stopped talking, because Stephen took a few steps through a portal right in Tony’s workshop, touching down lightly on the floor, his overly dramatic and loyal piece of outerwear flaring.

Show off.

“--do you think you could, you know, knock or something, before you do that?”

“I called you,” Stephen said. “Was there something else I was required to do?”

“So, magic missile,” Tony prompted.

“I wish you wouldn’t call it that,” Stephen said. “That’s not what I have in mind, at all.”

“So, what are we not blowing up, then?”

Stephen gestured, something mystical and weird, that would look a lot less cool if it wasn’t attached to some special effects. Honestly, if Tony could ignore the brilliant blue runes that snapped to attention and the circles of power that sprung up around Stephen’s wrists, it mostly just looked like Stephen was playing one of those kid games, like Mary Mack.

Miss Mary Mack, all dressed in black…

“This is Nico Minoru,” Stephen said, and he caused a wavering image to spring up, a teenage girl with a very emo vibe to her. Gothy witch chick. Black lipstick, crazy hair, dressed all in black and purple. Carrying a glowing rod. “She’s had some difficulty with her magic, recently, and as the Sorcerer Supreme, it’s kinda my job to make sure that people don’t… well, fuck up reality too much.”

“I can see that as being bad for business,” Tony remarked.

“Indeed,” Stephen said. “In a recent… encounter, Miss Minoru might have accidentally set up a chain reaction that will, given time, unwind our entire reality. Naturally, I thought you might want to help me stop it.”

“You’re surprisingly calm.”

“Gibbering in a panic doesn’t really get the problem solved,” Stephen said. “Besides, it’s contained, at the moment.”

“It’s the conditionals that worry me.”

“Right.” The image between Stephen’s fingers shifted. “This is the anomaly. A little rift of nothingness that, left unchecked, will consume the entire universe. This dimension.”

Looking at it was… hard. There was a glowing purple dome somewhere in--

“Is that Central Park?”

“Yes,” Stephen said. “I managed to pin the nothingness down, and I’m holding it inside a stasis shield. Immense amounts of mystical energy are flowing through me, into the shield. When I die, and I will die, eventually, my heart won’t be able to withstand it for too long, the shield will be entirely consumed, and then the nothingness will go on to consume the park, the island of Manhattan, the planet. Within a week, it will grow to consume the solar system. And, the bigger it gets, the faster it will consume. Consider it… a magical black hole, converting everything in our reality into… well, a negative mystical force.”

“Aside from the whole I don’t want anything to happen to the planet because I keep my stuff here,” Tony said, and he found that Stephen’s calm was infectious, and that was good, because Tony’s heart was pounding in his chest, “what else does this cosmic vacuum cleaner do?”

“I assume it’s powering some other dimension; something through the rift is drawing up the energy and using it. Right now, the tear is only the size of, perhaps the spread of my fingers.” Stephen’s hands were shaking, but his fingers looked pretty damn long, actually.

“So, the thingie on the other side could, theoretically, stop drawing power?”

“Maybe, but my experiences with interdimensional thingies says they usually don’t. And if it did, it might decide to come over here and have a look see,” Stephen continued. “Which, also, generally not good. It might be that dimension’s version of a fox, but--”

“We’re probably this dimension’s version of chickens, got it.” Tony scratched at his chin. “So, now that I have the doom and gloom part, what can me and my mere technical wonders do for you?”

“I have two shields in place right now,” Stephen said. “One is a mere physical block, to keep out the curious and the stupid. The other cannot be penetrated by magical means, but it is accessible to more conventional modes of transport.”

“A missile?”

“A missile.”

“And so, what are we putting in this missile?”

“That’s the fun part,” Stephen told him. “I’m going to load your missile with a particularly clever little spell that will close the tear from the other side. A magical spell cannot penetrate my second shield, and I can’t take it down without allowing our thingie access from his side. It might use the opportunity to get a foot in the door.”

“Thingie is my technical term, you can’t borrow it,” Tony grouched.

“So, I load an inert magical spell into your missile,” Stephen continued, the side of his mouth twitching up, “and I lower the physical shield. You fire the missile right through the tear, my spell goes off when it hits the other side, seals the tear.”

“Awesome facial hair bros for the win,” Tony said, holding up a hand for Stephen to high five.

“Not even a little bit,” Stephen said. He did not give Tony a high five, which Tony thought was decidedly unfair.

“Oh, come on, you can do it,” Tony said. He didn’t put his hand down, just waited with a bright smile and gleeful anticipation. Stephen would give in. He’d be a grump about it, but he would do it, eventually.

“I hate you,” Stephen said, sighing. He slapped Tony’s hand.

“Yes!” Tony smirked. “All right, how much time do we have?”

“Less than you want, more than you need,” Stephen said.

“Sounds like my kind of deadline,” Tony said. “You can, like, run along for a bit, I’ll contact you when I’m ready for your payload.”

“So, what happens when this goes off?” Tony said. He adjusted the launch angle again, peering through the purple haze of shielding. There was, of course, a huge crowd of idiots gathered around the shield, gawking, because people were stupid.

“Hopefully nothing spectacular,” Stephen said. He wasn’t adjusting anything, although his Cloak was rippling dramatically. “Fire the missile, the tear closes, we kiss, we schmooze, we go home happy.”

Tony blinked. “Are you asking me on a date, Doctor Strange?”

“What? No,” Stephen said. “Absolutely not.”

“I dunno, it kinda sounded like you were… or at least, looking for some extra curricular activities.”

“Fire the missile successfully, and maybe -- maybe -- we can go out for a coffee.”

“Score!”

“Back away from the purple magic dome, people,” someone yelled. It sounded like Fury. Probably smart; other Avengers would probably get more attention and push toward the rift, not less. Fury, on the other hand, was scary as hell to most people.

“The crowd is dispersing,” Stephen reported. “I’ll give you a sixty second countdown, lower the shield, and you’ll have ten seconds to lock on and fire before I have to put it back up to contain any backlash.”

“You didn’t mention backlash,” Tony muttered. “But ten seconds is more than enough. Ready when you are, Doctor.”

Stephen started the countdown, a fancy fiery display of magical pyrotechnics that Tony thought were highly unnecessary. “You can’t just count down like a normal person?” He put on his HUD goggles to ready the missile.

The countdown ended. The shield dropped.

Tony fired.

The missile went right where it was supposed to go and vanished in three seconds.

In six seconds, something shot out, green and terrible, aimed straight for Tony.

Stephen crashed into him, knocking him to the ground. The Cloak swirled around them as Stephen’s magical shield snapped back into place.

“Well,” Tony said, looking up at Stephen, who was laying across him. “That was exciting. Ten seconds was seven seconds too many?”

“They were waiting for us,” Stephen said.

“Well, I’m glad you have a quick reaction time, Doctor, or I might be a little crispy.”

“I had to,” Stephen said, “we’re awesome facial hair bros, after all.”

“Well, it would have been worth it,” Tony mused. “Now… about that kiss?”

“I didn’t say anything about a kiss,” Stephen protested. “I said a date.”

“I distinctly heard kiss in there somewhere,” Tony pointed out.

“I hate you, so much,” Stephen sighed. He got to his feet and offered Tony a hand up.

“I’m told that’s normal, for dating me,” Tony said, grinning.

“One date is not dating.”

“You keep protesting,” Tony said, “but when you needed to make some magic, you came to me.”

“One date. We’ll see what happens from there.”

“All I need is a foot in the door.”

#tonystarkbingo2018 #tonystarkbingo #IronStrange #pre-slash #magic and tech #awesome facial hair bros #tony stark #stephen strange

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hollygopossumlovesj2 · 6 years

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Come Back Down, Part 21

Title: Come Back Down, Part 21

Warning/Rating: NC-17; For graphic smut, hand job (male receiving), cussing, description of mental illness.

Word Count: 4,879

Summary: Recovery is not easy for Jensen. It involves sitting still and ‘resting’ which pretty much adds up to anxiety and feelings of failure. Depression weighs heavily on him as he contemplates the past month.

A/N: Thank you, @tas898, for reading through this and reassuring me that it wasn’t complete crap! Also for pushing me to post the damn thing. I super appreciate your support, Twinsie!

Hollygopossum’s Master List ~ If you’d like to read more of my work, click this link

Come Back Down Master List ~ Just incase you’d like to catch up, click this link here!

Cbd21

I’d been home for about 2 weeks now and had barely even left this room. Despite being drugged up to the gills for most of it, I was starting to lose patience with everyone. Mom had, of course, been insufferable and over attentive which was both annoying and guilt inducing. I knew there were preparations for her favorite holiday to be done but she was too busy checking on me every thirty minutes. Which, was an improvement because up until a couple of days ago, it had been every five.

It was a crazy concept to me, when I thought about it, but Christmas was only less than a week away. The two weeks I’d spent in hospital had seemed to drag on and on, but it turned out that hospital time goes a lot slower than real time.

The time I spent hospitalized was anxiety inducing, especially with my parents and their superpower of smothering the fuck out of me. My family had come to an agreement of a different schedule when I finally lost it enough to need more iv Ativan.

They were only allowed to come in one person at a time. My parents traded of the morning and afternoon shift. Josh, Mackenzie and Jared had each come to visit and take a ‘shift’ that I found unnecessary since I had a very attentive nurse. She came quickly when I had to break down and push the button but she hadn’t tried to make small talk. She was there to get down to business.

Then there was Y/N. She mainly took the night shift, after my parents and I had put our foot down that she needed a shower and at least 5 hours of sleep that she wouldn’t get if she stayed glued to my side 24/7. Selfishly I wanted her to stay with me and scare off my parents with her haunted eyes. But, she truthfully hadn’t recovered from me scaring the ever loving fuck out of her and she needed sleep and food.

So now, even though I was feeling pouty and ready to hunchback my healing ass out of this room and to the nearest bar, I stifled it. Earlier in the week, I’d half heartedly tried to convince her to go home to Wyoming. I told her she didn’t have to stay to take care of me when she had so many things to do at home. The argument was pointless, like arguing with an especially grumpy mule. I tried to let the guilt bog me down. I tried to convince myself that I was not just uselessly just putting her life on hold, and many of the cast and crew were ‘home on break’ until we had a full cast to work with.

So much guilt. Forever with the guilt.

Unfortunately for me, she was also extremely perceptive. She always had been, and she knew with just one look that I wasn’t handling the bed surfing part of my recovery well. If I were honest with myself, I would admit that the appendectomy had scared the fuck out of me too. But, it seemed wrong to voice that when everyone else had been terrified too. I was damn relieved that she hadn’t listened when I told her that she should go home.

She knew from experience how much of a pain in the ass I could be when I wasn’t feeling well. And, like I’d said before, we’d been there for each other through a large variety of situations. Like, the time I’d gotten mono from making out with Anna McDowell the summer before senior year.

Y/N had been the only person home because she was visiting over her break. Dad was off filming a part in some sitcom that filmed in Vancouver. After I had assured Mom that Y/N and I could behave and would be fine alone, she had reluctantly gone with him.

My throat had been brutally sore and I’d felt weighed down like I could sleep for days at a time. I’ll just say that mono had made the bad cold I’d had back in Cheyenne look like the sniffles. She made sure I drank plenty of fluids and took my medication. She would even bring me popsicles if I didn’t bitch too much. I know I definitely tested Y/N’s patience that first week of summer. It was one of the many times that solidified the position she held in my life as my favorite person.

Now, things were a little different. We weren’t just two teenagers trying to get by anymore. She never gave me any inclination that she ever planned to run like hell. I’d tried to get used to the very real possibility that dealing with all of this was just too much for me to ask. How could such a friend stay in my life for so long? Especially when they were picking up pictures of her and putting them in the gossip magazines?

My life was already spilling over into hers and I hadn’t made anything official. I’d gotten comfortable with what we had, but now I had to consider the possibility that she wouldn’t want the kind of life that was constantly being observed underneath a microscope. Not that I could completely begrudge Danneel for going off the deep end, but I knew I was going to get some backlash for that. That meant that Y/N might get backlash, too. Some of my fans had tagged her as the ‘other woman’ years ago before I’d wizened up.

My sad effort to keep these worries and some others under wraps and my problem alone had failed. She’d tried to cheer me up by offering me my favorite foods or letting me watch whatever I wanted, but the truth was that I was going fucking stir crazy. I didn’t want to sit still so that my abdominal internal sutures could heal properly like the outside sutures were headed to a lot quicker than I had thought. To be honest, it was getting a little itchy which just added to my discontent.

To be fair, I recognized that it was my own damn fault that I’d landed in this situation. If I hadn’t been such a hard headed dipshit, I’d be back on set by now.

On top of that, I couldn’t help but think about Danneel and the fake pregnancy. I still hadn’t been able to give her what she wanted. It still stung more than I was prepared for, even though we weren’t together anymore. Our divorce had caused her to suffer a psychological break, or so her brother had informed me in a very angry, violent conversation over the phone right after I’d been released to go home.

I’d spoken to Danneel’s mother yesterday and she’d informed me that Danneel was receiving treatment closer to her home town in Louisiana in a much nicer, if a little bit professional tone. The doctors there thought the break was due to the imbalance of hormones in her system caused by the fertility treatments she had been having. Oh, and stress. For some reason, Danneel’s mother took pity on me. She mentioned that even though stress didn’t help the situation, it had played a very small part in comparison to the fertility treatments and her unsuccessful attempts at conceiving a baby.

I still couldn’t quite let myself off of the hook, even having been pardoned by her mother. As soon as I was healed enough to drive, I planned on making time to visit with Mrs. Graul and maybe even Danneel if she was ready to have visitors. I knew all too well that the divorce was solid this time, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling of being responsible for pushing Danneel closer to the deep end. She might have meant to harm me, but I would’ve never wished her any real pain.

Y/N was still furious with Danneel who had confessed to running her off the road and into the ravine. A dark, unpopulated ravine that she’d been at the bottom of for nearly a week. Add on top of that the vandalism of her barn, and Y/N had every reason to press every charge possible, but she’d dropped them when she found out that Danneel wasn’t mentally well. She’d told me right before bed the night before that she didn’t want to make a bad situation worse. Plus, it was kind of hard to point fingers at someone who’d had such a hard time adjusting that they had a meltdown.

Once the media got a hold of the story, some negative Tweets and articles had already been released. Some of the Supernatural fandom were not very happy with me. They blamed me for Danneel’s mental break, and I couldn’t say I blamed them. The suits at the CW said not to worry, that the negative press would settle soon. They’d even tacked on that my drama had actually benefited the show being renewed. Bad attention, is still attention. Ugh! I felt used, but at least the crew would still have a job the longer they stayed on tv.

I sighed, feeling the tension building back up in my chest. It had only been momentarily alleviated by Y/N’s earlier animated conversation about how beautiful our hometown was. As she’d leaned into my shoulder, and nowhere else because I was a fucking china doll, she’d reminisced in a way that didn’t completely depress her. It was new, this lighter side of her talking about childhood hang outs and memories of us as high schoolers.

No matter how many times she returned to Dallas, and even though my parents had moved to a new house a few years before, the first couple of days always hit her like a sledgehammer. Especially if she tries to talk about her family. Now though, she seemed relaxed and happy to be here. She’d come back upstairs a couple of times ready to discuss a conversation that she’d had with my parents. There were little tidbits of information that she’d never known about her mom until my Mom had shared with her.

Maybe I’d be able to summon the inner strength to ask her what had changed.

She had disappeared about an hour ago and the book I was trying to read wasn’t holding my attention for longer than 5 minute increments.

Ever since I’d arrived home I’d been battling the nervous, possibly manic energy that was buzzing beneath my skin the longer I was forced to sit still. There were so many things that needed to be done for the show and I’d had to fight with both my Mom and Y/N so that I could leave to do voice work next week. They’d eventually given in when I told them that it was going to be done locally and for short amounts at a time. Even being able to do voice work in the very near future didn’t really quell it.

The crew had made changes as soon as they knew my recovery would be extended. They had left me out of several scenes and used my stunt guy to fill in where they couldn’t. I hated the strain this put on my friends.

Singer had tried to comfort me with the fact that it was only a couple of episodes and then they would break for Christmas. I wasn’t comforted. I hated anything that would possibly take away from the shows full potential and the family that was there.

You’d think the nervous energy would be completely cancelled out by the depressive episode of gargantuan proportions. It was obvious with my unwillingness to get out of bed or eat or to bathe myself with anything more complicated than a baby wipe down. I could actually feel myself sinking deeper and deeper, even with taking my antidepressant regularly. I could recognize it but I couldn’t do anything about it without feeling overwhelmed and defeated.

I had been at the end of my rope a few nights ago and finally caved. I told Y/N a shortened version of what was going on with me, omitting my worries about her because I didn’t want to give her more things to worry about. She had listened patiently but she hadn’t tried to soothe me with putting her hands on my face or giving me a look of pity.

She chose a scientific explanation that put me at ease faster than a generic, ‘I’m sorry, baby.’ She’d simply explained that sometimes anesthesia and the sedatives would mix up the normal balance of brain chemicals. That I should just try to take it easy until they balanced themselves out, but I didn’t know just how much more I could take.

Bored by the book I was trying to read and filled to the brim with hopelessness, I fell asleep. Sleeping was my only escape. It was the only way I could stop the voices in my head telling me how much I’d fucked up. That I was letting everyone that I’d ever cared about down.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been asleep the next time I woke up, but it was a pleasant wake up. Y/N face was leaning down so that she was eye level, a private smile on her face and a little blush on her cheeks. It looked like maybe she had been able to be outside for a little while and gotten some sun on her face.

“Hey.” She whispered like speaking too loud would disturb the room. As I slowly became more conscious, I noted that she’d opened the blinds to let some sun it. It glowed brightly against the beige carpet in the room, reflecting an ethereal glow on her face.

“Hey.” I croaked, lifting a hand to push the hair hanging in her face behind her ear. She leaned down a little further to kiss my nose and then my lips, bringing a small smile out.

“I’ve run a bath for you.”

And… the moment was gone. “A bath?” A bath required energy. A bath meant I’d need help getting in and out. A bath sounded terrible.

“Yeah.” She sat down on the edge of the bed, probably seeing my face fall. “I’ll do all the work. All you have to do is stay awake.”

“I don’t want you to do all the work.” I grumped, groaning quite dramatically as I sat up. “I don’t want you to have to do anything.”

“Would you rather your Mom helped?” Dirty. She played dirty. She deduced the answer by the appalled twist to my expression. “Maybe we could have a little fun.”

I lifted an eye brow in question, wondering if Y/N had lost her mind while I’d been sleeping. It was a tiny bit enticing but absolutely not while my parents were still in the house. That would just be weird. Plus, I wasn’t exactly in shape to be doing acrobatics in the garden tub.

“Your parents are gone shopping for some last minute Christmas things. They’ll probably be gone…” She checked the phone she’d been carrying in her right hand. “For the next two hours.”

And, there went most of my excuses.

I didn’t cave one bit, my face a study in extreme grumpiness, as she walked close beside me while I hobbled into the upstairs bathroom. Even as I saw the bath tub full of bubbles and surrounded by a couple of candles that had to be left over from Mackenzie, I remained against this whole thing. It was one thing for me to help her shower all last summer. It was completely another for her to do the same.

I loved her and I wanted to be her safety and her security. I couldn’t very well do that while she was washing my ass for me.

To Y/N’s credit, she never lost the smile on her face or the genuine care she put into getting me into the tub. Which, if I were in the mood to be honest, it wasn’t as complicated as I’d thought it would be. It didn’t even hurt as much as I thought it would, but I still would’ve preferred some damn baby wipes or a sink bath to this. I could already be napping again by now. I was already a little breathless from the ten feet I’d just crossed to get to the bathroom.

A thought occurred to me as I got lost watching her take her clothes off, neatly folding them up on the counter next to what I assumed were my clean clothes. (Because I hadn’t even thought about grabbing any) But, maybe she was pushing this bath because she was tired of sleeping next to someone that (maybe, possibly) didn’t smell too fresh. The reasons didn’t even really matter that much. I was in the tub now. Might as well be fucking clean.

“Sit up a little.” She helped by pushing my shoulders forward and then slipped in behind me, her legs spread wide to frame mine. “Okay, now lean back.” I carefully leaned back and despite my issue with being the little spoon, I had to admit that it felt good. I closed my eyes and breathed deep, the water gently lapping around us and her arms encircled around my chest so I wouldn’t slide down.

This was nice and quiet, the firm hold around my chest chased a bit of the crazy anxious feeling away. Y/N knew exactly what I was doing and the possibility of her not knowing hadn’t crossed my mind besides being a grumpy asshole.

I didn’t even have to move when she began soaping my hair with shampoo, using a cup to wet my hair and then rinse it. I begrudgingly had to admit, if only to myself, that having my hair washed felt fucking fantastic. I relaxed further, humming as I let my full weight lean against her, as she massaged my scalp with firm fingers.

Her chuckle vibrated against my back, making a relaxed smile slowly spread on my lips. “You and your hair.”

I cocked an eyebrow even though she couldn’t see it, “What do you mean, ‘you and your hair?’” My voice grumbled an octave or two deeper because I was on the cusp of falling asleep.

“All anyone has to do to wipe that grumpy look on your face is put their fingers in your hair. I’m not sure you can have your hair cut in public with the noises that you make. You might get arrested for being indecent.”

“What?” I tensed up a little, only because what she was describing wasn’t very manly at all. I couldn’t help the character traits that I held to so rigidly. “I do fine in public thank you very much.” I had evolved since I’d grown up in Texas and made sure to never extend anything but support, especially to those that chose to challenge the world’s expectations and dared to be exactly who they were. I admired their strength, but I was still stuck living by my Dad’s southern expectations and it was a lot easier to be understanding of someone else than it was to be understanding of myself.

“Shhh…” Her fingers slid down to dig deeply into my intensely tight neck muscles after she’d rinsed my hair thoroughly. I instantly forgot what I was ruffled about. “I didn’t mean to get your hackles up, Ackles. You’re still a big tough guy if that’s what you want to be.”

She got a grunt in response, mostly because I didn’t want to get into another discussion about how I hold myself to too many rigid self-expectations. Oh yes, she had made her point several times, but I just couldn’t stop. The anxiety that I’d been trying to fight since childhood always managed to make me fixate on my flaws. All through Days of Our Lives and Dark Angel, I would spend hours rehearsing and trying to have my line delivery perfect. When I would lay down at night, all the times I’d failed would keep me from sleeping well, including the time I’d failed to get a big part in the kindergarten play. I took a big breath and let it go, relaxing back into her warm, soft body.

I let myself drift in and out of consciousness, letting her hands wash away all the eck that had built up while I was laid up. Y/N had clipped her nails short so that she could massage my skin as she washed everywhere thoroughly, pushing the painful toxins and leaving me basically a pile of jelly. Damn it felt good. She cleared her throat, a tell that she had something important to say, and I braced myself for what would come next.

“You can’t do this to me again, okay?” She began to whisper, her warm breath and lips tickling the back of my neck and setting off goosebumps as she swiped the wash cloth over my healing incision. I hummed in answer, trying to maintain this relaxed state for as long as possible, but let her know I was listening. “You get a free pass for this one, but anything after this, there will be consequences.” I grunted, unable to conjure up enough energy to form words. “I won’t be able to handle it again, Jay. I never wanted to be close to anyone after my parents. But then, there you were. I will never be able to survive a day without you alive on this Earth somewhere, and that terrifies me.”

The sound of her sniffling brought me back to Earth, her words processing clearly. I laid my head back, held up by her shoulder as I searched blindly for her lips. My eyes were still closed as I instinctively found them. I was afraid if I opened my eyes that she would see the fear in mine as well. Not because of her threat of retribution and consequences, but the horrifying thought that if something happened to me she wouldn’t survive.

They were salty from tears when she pressed her lips against mine. I turned the kiss into something needy, something that expressed the vulnerable thing inside me with her name on it, without words. I wanted to pull her into my lap and hold her close but the internal sutures kept me from moving very much at all.

“M’not goin’ anywhere.” I pressed the words into her willing lips, my tongue easing in to glide over her teeth and then battle for dominance with her tongue.

“Okay,” she whispered on an inhale, her fingers teasing my happy trail below the surface. I was already responding to her kisses, my dick already filling with blood and half hard. I couldn’t help the grunt that was muffled by our lips when her fingers lightly grazed me. My eyes squeezed closed even tighter against the emotion that was stirring turmoil in my chest. The bath and the tease of something more made sense now. She wanted to put her hands on me to feel me alive and well. How could I ever have thought I’d be strong enough to begrudge her that.

From then on her touches were done with more intent, her fingers teasing my shaft only to go lower and gently roll my balls and hold them in her palm. I was gonna be a quick trigger and I couldn’t even bring myself to feel self-conscious about it. I hadn’t even put my own hand on me since a few days before my surgery. I hadn’t even thought of this since I’d been home, too distracted by the pain.

But, fuck if it didn’t feel good now. I was already panting hard, my head feeling dizzy from my short breaths and limited oxygen intake. I tried to turn around so that I could touch and taste more of her, but she stopped me with her hands pressing firmly against my pecks to keep me still. “Stay like this. This is just for you.”

I didn’t like being the only one on the receiving end. I got a lot of my pleasure from watching her feel good. I loved how responsive she was. I loved the noises that she made and how she would finally just let go and feel it. However, I had to admit that what she was doing, the being in control? Fuck, that was hot, too.

I finally had to stop trying to kiss her, leaning my head back and tucking my nose into the crook in her neck just so that I could breathe her scent into my lungs. I felt her other hand leave my side a moment and the sound of a thick liquid being squeezed from a bottle. It didn’t really register until her hand was slicking up my cock with a lubricant. It was oil based so that it didn’t wash off right away, removing the friction that water made uncomfortable. The warm, wet sensation was overwhelming and I couldn’t help the groan as I pushed my face further into her skin.

This time she didn’t tease, sensing my urgency in the twitch of my hips, her hand firm as she began pumping with purpose. I was already desperate, my breath started to get caught in my throat and hitch in my chest.

“Relax, let me do all the work.” She whispered like a dirty, dirty porn star and put pressure on my hip to try to keep me still. The action resulting in a moan from deep in my throat, a thrill of pleasure crawling up my spine. Fuck it was hot that she was bossing me around a little.

She would bring me right to the edge, my toes curling in the water, before she’d ease off. I could hardly stay still or hold in the vulnerable moans that echoed in the acoustics of the bathroom. I couldn’t help but to thrust into her hand as much as she would allow, planting my feet and trying to get the most out of every single one. To keep from sliding down, my hands were leaving finger print bruises as I gripped her thighs for dear life. Fuck!

“Oh, fuck. Oh, god-. …gonna… Sweetheart, I’m gonna-. Oh, fuck!” When she finally let me come it felt like months’ worth of come was dragged out of me in long, hard pulses. My balls clamped down so hard that they were actually sore when I could bring myself to give a fuck. To be honest, I didn’t know what I said, my mind blown and focused on just one thing, babbling the words that just rolled out of my mouth without a filter. There may have been curse words or multiple praises for unknown deities and moans that might’ve sounded like I was dying. All I really knew was that my throat was a little dry when I could finally focus on the room.

The orgasm had turned my entire body into jelly, my legs and arms were like limp noodles. I hissed through my teeth, my dick still very sensitive, when she washed the lubricant off with a warm, soapy wash cloth. God, as much as I’d complained and tried to convince Y/N that this wasn’t a good idea, I had to admit to myself that I had been wrong.

Even though I had been a grumpy ass, she had still been able to take care of me so completely that mixed in with the orgasmic haze was a hell of a lot of gratitude.

Getting me out of the bath tub and dried off would probably be a funny story later, but I was too relaxed to care. I could feel the dopey smile on my face as Y/N laughed at me while I leaned almost my entire weight into her side. “Whoo…” We listed to the left and to the right a little because my brain was mostly out of the building.

“Alright, chuckles, hang on for me for just a minute longer.” She kind of sounded like I was probably killing her back, but my center of gravity depended on her.

When we finally made it safely to the bedroom and into bed, she took great care as she tucked me in. She pulled the comforter up to beneath my chin and dipped to kiss my lips one more time.

It was pure luck that I was able to work my hand and to grab onto her shirt before she could get up to leave. She returned the big, dumb smile I could feel on my face. “Stay.”

The amused smile on her kiss swollen lips turned soft as she answered me with a kiss to my forehead. “Okay.” I watched blearily as she ditched her blue jeans and bra, climbing and snuggling up close next to me in just a t shirt and her blue lace panties. She laid up against me, but put her arm over my chest to avoid my incision, tucking her face beside mine, sharing my pillow. “Love you.”

I pressed my lips into her forehead, staying there as I fell into a few deep, quality hours of sleep. “Love you, too.”

Tagging (Forever’s): @perpetualabsurdity, @maileann, @daydreamingintheimpala, @gecko9596, @gemini75eeyore, @jotink78, @dancingalone21, @winchesterprincessbride, @sandlee44, @exploratiionist, @arryn-nyx, @littledarlinhavefaithinme, @tiffanycaruso, @boredoutofmymindstuff, @feelmyroarrrr, @raeganr99, @ruprecht0420, @anokhi07, @letsgetyourdeanon, @sis-tafics, @callmesatansprincess, @atc74, @ryansgirl5509, @notnaturalanahi, @keepcalmandcarryondean, @sea040561, @just-another-busy-fangirl, @uniquewerewolfsuit, @ria132love, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @pretty-fortune, @butiaintgonnaloveem, @justanotherdeangrl, @weasleywinchester,@easelweasel, @akshi8278, @tas898, @mandymoiselle1970, @pansexualmeteorite,

Tagging (CBD Only): @melissaj616, @katrena7, @deansdirtyduchess, @anticipate1003, @jalove-wecallhimdean, @shamelesslydean, @xristina-gkika

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whatsthecraicwithvideogames · 6 years

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Fallout 4 is not a bad game. Just a bad Fallout game.

We are beginning to inch ever closer to my absolute favourite time of year. The time where all the top game developers come out for a weekend of huge reveals, tech demos, and a special brand of cringe that could only be found in one place. It is of course, E3! The New York Fashion Week for gamers, the best in the business parading around their newest creations for the eagerly awaiting fans. So, as we are on the approach, what better time to use E3 as a backdrop to my discussion for today?

Three years ago, in the early hours of the morning on June 15th, Bethesda had their first E3 showcase; and boy was it something. Due to the time difference, I was cooped up in my bed with my laptop at 2:30am, fervently awaiting Bethesda Game Studio’s director Todd Howard to grace us with his presence and allow us to view the first glimpse of one of the most anticipated games at the time. Fallout 4. I still get chills whenever I think about it. The tentative excitement as we were finally getting our first taste of the sweet, sweet Fallout 4 nectar, the sound of hundreds and thousands of fanboys simultaneously wetting themselves at the prospect of having their very own, real life Pip-Boy, and of course, the revelation that the game would be coming out that very same year, with only five months to wait! If nothing else, Bethesda are the masters of elevating their own hype (evident in the recent 24 hour livestream they recently hosted, featuring barely any activity, purely serving to manufacture mass hysteria leading up to the announcement of their new game: Fallout 76). However, perhaps they may not always be able to deliver on what the people want. Up until a few days ago, I adored Fallout 4. I’ll admit it was the first Fallout game I had ever completed, so I was seeing it through fresh eyes, with nothing to compare it to. Recently, that has changed. I have finally finished my playthrough of Fallout 3, and now I finally see what the people were talking about. Fallout 4, is not a good Fallout game.

The main thing that made Fallout 3 so unique in contrast to any other game I have ever played, is the ability to complete missions in such a wide variety of different ways. Personally, I like to put a lot of ability points into speech; I generally prefer to talk my way out of situations rather than punch my problems directly in the face. That’s partially due to my belief that choosing the peaceful path often garners the most interesting results, but really I’m just so intensely bad at video games that even attempting to shoot my way through a quest would almost certainly end HORRIBLY. That option isn't really available to me a whole lot in Fallout 4. Quests are largely quite linear, with a lot of them simply being ‘go to this place kill some people lift the thing bring it back level up repeat’. I'll give you a prime example of something that I did during my Fallout 3 play through that would never happen in 4. I met Three Dog after making my way to the Galaxy News Radio station, where I was looking for information about my father’s whereabouts. Three Dog initially wanted to restrict the info that he had until I contributed to ‘the Good Fight’ in some way (I believe he sends you to retrieve a radio dish for him). However, I was able to pass a tricky speech skill check, and I was able to get the facts that I needed and subsequently bypassing an entire mission. How many other modern games offer such expansive choice in the way you can play your game? In Fallout 4, charisma is used primarily as a way to get an extra 100 or so caps. It completely loses a huge part of what makes Fallout so special. There is little opportunity to roleplay a character effectively, as there are shockingly few ways to create variance between playthroughs, other than the configuration of perks you choose for you character, and even they don’t alter the gameplay enough to truly make a big enough impact. The lack of nonlinearity is not the only nail in the RPG coffin, however.

One of the most prevalent criticism to be found about Fallout 4 is the massive change to the dialogue system. Before, you had all of your options clearly laid out before you, with multiple attitudes and tones you could take throughout a conversation in order to really make you feel like you were really moulding the personality of your character. Now, you’re restricted to four desperately vague options in a dialogue tree, where it’s really anyone’s guess what is going to come out of your characters mouth. Not really prime conditions for some quality roleplaying. For example, for a lot of the conversations, there is a ‘sarcastic’ option. As if the ambiguous description wasn’t bad enough, choosing this option can often result in your character aggravating whoever you’re talking to with your unnecessary snarkiness, to the point that you can permanently alienate them, which can prove an issue when trying to complete quests a certain way. The decision to implement a dialogue tree is one that truly baffles me, as it is the most obvious difference of this game compared to the last (other than voice acting), and it is a completely unnecessary change that Bethesda must have known would receive backlash. It represents the core problem that the game faces. The core RPG elements of Fallout have been stripped down until they are barely there-which has likely been done so that they could focus more on improving the infamously janky gunplay from Fallout 3. Was having fun and usable combat mechanics AND good RPG elements not an option? Were Bethesda too busy trying to get Skyrim to work on every console ever created and they just forgot to add in the RPG part? The more that I think about it, the more logical that suggestion seems…

The karma system in Fallout 3 was a pretty basic mechanic, where you got good karma for doing good deeds, and bad karma for bad deeds. In turn, the state of your karma affects some of your interactions with the people in the Wasteland. For example, I had neutral karma for the majority of the game, which in turn meant that I had too low karma to acquire Fawkes as a companion, and also too high karma to have Jericho as my companion. It wasn’t the most complicated system, but it added another layer of role playing to the game and made you feel like your actions had consequences. If you had done bad things, you really felt like you were being judged for them by the people you met. Fallout 4 did away with this whole system, leaving instead in its place a significantly downgraded structure where the companion you had with you judged you on small actions that you did. It wasn’t very deep and it had no wide reaching consequences. Admittedly it’s not the hugest omission, but it does further support the argument that Bethesda were more concerned with making a good shooter game than with producing a deep and interesting RPG.

Fallout 4 is by no means a bad game. Not by a long shot. Bethesda showed once again that they are experts in creating vivid game worlds and offering a masterclass in visual storytelling. If this game had come out as a new IP, I imagine it would have received significantly less criticism. Unfortunately, Fallout 4 ended up being the slightly disappointing child that could never live up to its parents expectations, and it shall be forever doomed to the fate of living in the shadow of its more impressive older siblings.

#fallout #fallout 4 #bethesda #fallout 3 #video games

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multiverseofmiracleshq · 3 years

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Following the various misteps of the Avengers, it was highly suggested that they hold an accountability meeting to go over what preventative measures should be taken if one of their own were to go AWOL and what resources they should have in place for support. Instead, things became tense when the once Captain America Sam Wilson and the Winter Soldier got into a fight about the shield... and it’s new owner dropped in to say hello.

THIS IS THE OFFICIAL CHAT LOG COVERAGE OF THE IC

SAM: He hadn’t really wanted it to come to this. In retrospect, it had to be expected at least a little, but Sam wasn’t thinking about the government. For the first time in two years he turned his mind away what the public would think about him ( hint: it was most likely unfavorable ) and about his own wants and needs. Maybe that made him a bad Captain America, but that was a title. Sam was a person and after Westview he was a person who needed a moment to catch his breath and step away from a legacy he had inherited without hesitation because it was more than just an honor -- it was a duty. Of course Sam had considered the racism, the backlash. He had been Black in America long enough to know how he would be seen. It would be worth it. It would be... Exhausting. Sam was exhausted. Westview had worn him down in a way that he hadn’t experienced in years. He had put in the work when he was discharged. He had led the PTSD support groups because he wanted to practice what he preached. Sam picked up the shield and did his best but he was tired. Weary to the bone exhausted. He didn’t want to talk about his problems but he didn’t want to keep dragging them around so he took a page from Steve’s book and set the shield down. Falcon once more, Sam hung at the back of the room with his arms crossed. His former title being picked up by Walker was listed as a talking point and he’d rather shy away from that. “We waiting on a shrink to start this off or are we supposed to entertain ourselves?”

NATASHA: Reclined in her chair with her ankles crossed, Natasha sent a cursory glance at Sam. She and Steve had discussed the situation at length but she had yet to talk with the man in the center of it all. Nat was, unsurprisingly, not a fan of the American government. She had once actively sought to counteractive it before later toppling one of its pillars. They had never been on stellar terms even if they now called her a hero for doing what was needed. “Heard an agent in the hall say to lock the door until we all start braiding each others hair.” The two legs of her chair that had been briefly suspended connected with the ground as Natasha leaned forward. “They asked if we have resources. We don’t. We haven’t since the Blip. I checked out for a year and came back to a congratulations and call to active duty. We don’t help our people. Not since Berlin.”

BUCKY: "Berlin." James echoed from his place just adjacent to the exit, the door caught in his periphery as he eyed Sam across the table. "We have court mandated therapy with awful shrinks, but I think they reserve that just for mass murderers." He was bitter, and it was obvious in his tone, but they were detached from his words. James obviously directed the feeling at someone in particular, and it wasn't even entirely his fault. "Do you want me to say it, Sam?" he challenged.

STEVE: While there was never any moment of peace that was ever allowed to stretch too far, it felt like each catastrophe was bigger than the last and came up quicker too. And while they all fought, survived, and moved on to the next disaster like it was nothing — the truth of it was, they just never stopped taking hits. Steve didn’t know how to sit still these days, and he especially didn’t know how to enjoy a peaceful moment without worrying when the next thing is going to fall out of the sky and set it up in flames. Anxiety wasn’t so passable for unnecessary worry when it was backed up with evidence and a history of becoming a reality. When he started serving mental health was never on the table for discussion—for the first time he was rather hopeful one of these meetings might actually have the potential to do some good for once. That was, until Bucky and Sam seemed to already begin bickering. He eyed the two of them, arms crossed over his chest comfortably as he leaned back in his chair beside natasha. “I don’t think anyone invited a shrink.”

DAISY: Daisy was admittedly a little uncomfortable with the awkward tension in the room as she sat in her seat and slowly swiveled back and forth, lost in her own thoughts. There was so much to talk about, and they were all pretty touchy topics. Westview, the Accords, whoever the hell John Walker was.. Her mind was racing on what to say. Thankfully, she didn't have to be the first person to speak up as Sam kicked things off. She was pretty angry for him about the new Captain America situation, since it was pretty obvious what the decision boiled down to and it wasn't right. It was kind of ironic the job Daisy now had, considering how anti-government she'd been back before she even joined S.H.I.E.L.D. And stuff like this only ignited that anger in her about how things tended to be handled by the United States. "Agreed. I think we can all agree that the Anomaly wouldn't have happened if Wanda had those kinds of resources."

WANDA: Attendance was mandatory. It was extra mandatory for Wanda, seeing as she was part of the agenda. Her head was held high even though she sat alone with the two chairs on either side of her vacant. Unsure of the dress code, she had arrived in the most nondescript outfit she could think of -- plain hoodie and baseball cap once again making an appearance. “Or, maybe, the government should have been stopped from stealing a body in the first place. Resources are good, yes, but me attending therapy would not have stopped them from desecrating the Vision.”

SAM: So it was gonna be like that then. His gaze locked with Bucky’s across the room, unflinching and refusing to blink. He was already going through the ringer and the last thing he needed was Barnes coming at him as well. The public, the government, his friends. It never really ended. “I don’t know, Buck,” his voice was measured. “What’s there to say?”

DAISY: Daisy completely agreed, but there wasn't much she could say in response to that. She hadn't exactly been in S.W.O.R.D. during that entire ordeal. And even if she was, she wasn't sure if she'd have had any say in what happened there. She rubbed the bridge of her nose for a moment to gather her thoughts before lifting her head up. "That wasn't right, no. And I think any level-headed person would agree with that."

PETER: Being present at these sorts of meetings would never feel normal to Peter, no matter how long he’d donned the Spider-Man mantle. In fact, since his identity had been exposed, the impostor syndrome was at an all time high when it came to his status among the Avengers and the rest of ‘Earth’s mightiest’. He didn’t belong here - he caused more harm than good most of the time - and while most of the others believed he did, that tended to mean his necessary attendance. At the very least, he could be there for Wanda, he thought, the chair he currently sat in tucked against the furthest corner of the room.

BUCKY: The news of John Walker hadn't been quiet - in fact, it had rang through America with fanfare and cheers. They'd celebrated Sam stepping down to be replaced, but James didn't care about the logistics of now. He'd been trying to unstick eggs from a too old, too worn pan when the news filtered in from the living room. He'd turned his tv down just enough for it to be background noise, but the naming of Captain America had been enough to grab his attention. Even worse was the revelation of John Walker, not Sam Wilson, as the man behind the shield, and Sam hadn't even bothered to send him a text. "If you didn't want to carry the shield anymore, I'm sure there are plenty of people more capable than Johnny fucking Appleseed to take it. You should've told someone Sam. That shield wasn't yours to just give away."

MONICA: “What went down with Tyler Hayward never should have happened.” Monica sighed. “And I know we’re trying to be better, but in some ways our hands are tied. The government messes up. A lot. We try and clap back and they punish us. How do you break that cycle?”

STEVE: Steve was just as upset about John Walker as anyone else — giving up the shield to sam had been easy, it had been what Steve wanted. It was going into good hands that belonged to a man he knew was bound by his own need to do what was right. With Sam, there was never any concern, Steve never thought twice about it—but he didn’t know John, and to be perfectly honest his record of being a good soldier wasn’t enough to convince him that he’d be a good cap. Good soldiers followed orders without question—most days you needed that. Hesitation got people killed. But war wasn’t black and white and orders weren’t always coming from an honorable tongue. Whoever held that shielded needed to be able to walk that line—West Point graduate or not, he didn’t think John had what it took to do that. When it came down to it, Steve felt like he was too eager to prove he could be Captain America that he’d never step out on a limb when it came down to it. He’d bow his head and fall in line. “Buck…” Steve started. “He didn’t give it away.” Steve would never know first hand what Sam was going through, and he’d never pretend to, but he did understand what the weight of that shield could feel like when the world didn’t trust it in your hands. It was easier to let it go than to try and be what everyone else wanted—he may hate that it went to John but he didn’t blame Sam for that. “They took it.”

SAM: There it was. Wasn’t his to give away. Only, it was. “I think you’re confused.” Sam shook his head, arms falling to his side. “Like he said, Steve gave me the shield and I gave it to the Smithsonian.” Because he needed one goddamn second to breath and process without the weight of everyones expectations. Steve didn’t get it. Bucky didn’t get it. That shield meant one thing to them but it came with a lot more strings for Sam. He wasn’t just Captain America. He was Captain America and he was Black and more than a few people didn’t know how to correlate the two. He turned to Rogers then, holding a hand out in his direction. “You aren’t my dad, Bucky. Steve’s not my mom. I can speak for myself here. I did what was best for me and I didn’t owe you an explanation.” Nor Carol, for that matter. He had called the museum’s Director when they first opened, the shield smuggled in with the morning light. “You think it doesn’t hurt to see them roll out Walker with applause I never got? You think I like seeing his smug ass up there? Nah.” His hands clenched into fists and released. “Steve gave me the shield, not you. I’m sorry I didn’t do what you wanted with it.”

SCOTT: Between many of the comments being thrown about, there were pockets of awkward silence. Scott knew it was because everyone was thinking, choosing their words carefully, but he couldn’t help but let his mind wander as he took in all the faces in the room. Before he’d met Hank, before all this, he would’ve been another idiot causing trouble for the individuals in this room to stop, but now here he was - sitting shoulder to shoulder with the best and brightest, some of the strongest individuals on the planet - and if that didn’t make someone feel a small sense of self-importance as well as an overwhelming need to make sure he didn’t fuck anything up, Scott didn’t know what would.

BUCKY: James's gaze flickered to Steve, his eyes briefly narrowing before he forced himself to relax. It didn't help much, began the tension was still corded in the muscles of his shoulders, bunching there. It was hard not to be angry; hard not to watch the legacy that had pulled him out of HYDRA's grip be tainted by a boy scout that didn't deserve it. The Winter Soldier could never be Captain America; James would never be able to take that shield and be the beacon of hope for America. His history was too well known; his stain on history never washing out. Sam had been the guy to step into those shoes, keep the legacy safe, and become someone James had even begun to confide in. To consider a friend. "You could've given it to literally anyone else." He could hear the petulance in his tone, but he didn't relent. He didn't know how. "But you gave to a museum. What, is Steve dead to you? Were you trying to memorialize him or something?"

DAISY: Clearly the government had a bit of a corruption problem, whether that was HYDRA infiltrating S.H.I.E.L.D., or a corrupt member just taking things into their own hands. Daisy glanced over at Monica in the seat next to her and took a deep breath before glancing back at Wanda. “What Hayward did isn’t a representation of what organizations like S.W.O.R.D or even S.H.I.E.L.D. stand for. But you make a good point, they shouldn’t have taken Vision’s body. It was out of our control, though. Monica was... gone. And I was up in space. Other agents should have stepped in, sure, but we’re not your enemies.”

SAM: If there was a place to have this verbal confrontation, in front of all the Avengers during an “accountability” meeting that actually seemed to be nothing productive wasn’t it. They should have taken a clue from the Sokovian Accords meeting where Ross and his projections of their destruction had helped break them apart. Maybe he and Bucky should have taken it outside, but Sam was sick of trying to find the balance between biting his tongue publicly and speaking his mind to assert his own independence. “Who? Who else was I going to give it to? Not you. Nat doesn’t want it. Tony already took it but he’s gone now.” It wasn’t like Sam hadn’t considered his options. He just kept drawing up blanks. “I’m going to explain something to you, Bucky. Steve isn’t the shield. I’m not the shield. It’s a symbol and I put it back with all the other Captain America stuff in the exhibit. The Smithsonian called me. Two years ago. Real nice speech about how good of care it’d get. They didn’t say they were going to sell it out.”

BUCKY: "Some decisions you shouldn't make on your own." that bitterness seeped into his tone again - especially as James considered the fact that his life was actively policed and monitored. He couldn't so much as breathe without someone looking in on him; he couldn't imagine even trying to make moves like Sam without bringing it up with someone. "You didn't know either, based on the scowl on your face." he inclined his head towards Carol, who was being uncharacteristically quiet.

CAROL: She simply met James's gaze, her gaze level, before she spoke. "Has anyone bothered to look in to John Walker?"

STEVE: Steve had remained quiet, not wanting to speak over sam or get in between a conversation that clearly needed to be had — but it was odd to listen to a conversation about you and something that took up most of your adult life and not weigh in on it. But he accepted the control he had relinquished when he handed the shield over to begin with. Besides — Sam had pretty much covered it. The shield was in fact his to do what he wanted with—give it away if he had wanted to. The point was that no one asked Sam, they crafted a sneaky way to take it and hand the mantle over to someone else. And you could try to pretend it was for a dozen other reasons other than the fact that Sam was Black—but it’d be bullshit. Still, he wasn’t willing to throw his two cents where it didn’t need to be. He could only support Sam the best he could and while he understood Bucky’s anger, he did feel it was misdirected. At the opportunity to direct the frustration at Walker, Steve took it. “Yeah, as best we could. His records come up clean.” Steve said, though his tone was dry. Implying that it was expected to be that way. The government was going to either do its research to find the cleanest file they could, or craft one that sparkled. “Not that that ever meant anything.”

NOVA: Sam knew he didn’t agree with any one individual in the room, and he wasn’t entirely sure his opinion really mattered. But he needed to be present, to listen, and to understand where exactly things were going from here. The mention of this ‘new’ Captain America caught his attention, and he sat up just a little bit straighter when Steve and the others continued to speak.

CAROL: Carol regarded Steve as she took in his tone. She'd read Walker's file and he'd seemed like the ideal, perfect candidate. It was unsettling. "Little too squeaky clean, don't you think?" She didn't wan to listen to Barnes and and Sam argue about the shield. That was neither here nor there, and maybe Sam could've handed it to someone instead of the museum, but he'd made that decision much in the way he did everything now. Alone. She didn't let that sour her words. "You think someone who has never made a mistake knows how to recognize one?"

STEVE: “Way too clean.” Steve agreed. “And, no, I don’t. I also don’t think he’s willing to ask the right questions or stand up to the right people. After the Accords — with the government taking it from Sam, that shield may as well be a a signature on enlistment paperwork. First time he steps out of line they’ll find the next army strong West Point cadet to swap him out with. Even if there isn’t an agenda on his end, he’s bound to contracts and the military.” There was also the glaring fact that the shield wasn’t his. It was Sam’s, and until he handed it to someone else, it should have stayed that way.

SAM: “Your opinion doesn’t matter here. My life, my shield. I’m Captain America, holding the shield that symbolizes freedom but I can’t even make my own decisions or decide what I want to do independently? Screw that. Screw you too, Buck. I did this alone so I would’t have to sit here and look at your smug, righteous face as you tell me what I should do.” As Carol began speaking and the conversation switched to John, Sam shook his head and moved towards the back of the room.

BUCKY: He wanted to let it go, he wanted to watch Sam walk away and join in on the evolving discussion, but he couldn't. His resolve just snapped. "You know something, Sam? Your 'I am an island' act is a bunch of bullshit. You think you made the right decision? Whoop dee doo. But you alienated everyone who gives a damn about you and you didn't talk to anyone about it. You wanna tell me again why that's okay? You wanna tell me again why you deserve people to put their lives on the line for you when you won't even have a conversation with them?"

NATASHA: Head inclining to the side as she watched the drama unfold, Natasha waited n silence for a moment. “If there’s one thing I’m good at,” she mused. “It’s finding ledgers. I’ll look into Walker. Most boy scouts aren’t that blue.” Her lips twitched as she glanced at Steve. “But in the meanwhile, having a pissing match isn’t going to help.”

PIETRO: Pietro was hardly a fan of the meetings, they were long and dull, and he spent far too long partially attentive to unimportant people who thought they were, all blabbering their opinions. These meetings were by all accounts — the bane of his existence. Alas, he showed up. he half listened. and occasionally, got a word in edgewise. With Luna cradled in his arm, wrapped in a baby-yellow blanket, he and Crystalia entered the meeting—which (much to his dismay) seemed to have barely begun. He didn’t appear to outwardly acknowledge Wanda—but then again, he didn’t need to. as they walked by, his greeting drifted through his mind as clearly for her as if he’d spoken it. Sora. He caught her gaze.

CRYSTALIA: After two weeks in Westview, Crystalia would have been more than content to stay in New Attilan far away from her ‘neighbors’ and tormentor. But Pietro had insisted and Crystal, despite her better judgement, had deferred to her fiance. She refused to look at Wanda as they entered, instead fussing for a moment with the baby’s blanket where it was tucked against Pietro. “Daisy,” she tilted her head in acknowledgement. “I see we came all this way for virtually nothing.”

DAISY: Daisy talking with Wanda quietly faded into the background of the conversations as Sam and Bucky's fighting got louder and louder, until the two feuding men encompassed the entire focus of the room. She raised her eyebrows at their exchanges and stayed quiet, not feeling like she had any sort of place to speak with them. She had conventionally good relationships with the both of them, so it was hard to really pick sides. She understood Sam's choice, and knew none of this was his intention. He had a right to give that shield up, whether anyone liked it or not. But she also sympathized with Bucky too. It was rough to jump back and gain people's trust after being controlled the way he was by HYDRA. She would know, after turning on her entire team to work with Hive. It was violating and traumatic, and then having to be monitored so closely just made everything ten times worse on your mental health. And while she knew realistically he couldn't have taken the shield himself, it had to be frustrating to see something like this happen. And Sam unfortunately was an easy target to pin the blame on. Her attention was directed over to Pietro and Crystal as they entered the room with their baby in hand, and her eyes widened as she stared down at some papers on the table in front of her and tried to avert her gaze. She hadn’t seen Pietro since their whole incident back at the Avengers Compound, which ended in an entire city street being ripped into chunks of pavement. “Oh God.” She mumbled quietly, sure that Monica probably heard her. And then Crystal was approaching her and she lifted her head and raised an eyebrow. “What is that supposed to mean?” Maybe playing dumb wasn’t the best strategy, but she was honestly kind of hoping that Pietro hadn’t told her. But she knew it wasn’t gonna be that easy.

SAM: Breathe in. Breathe out. Sam took a second to flatten his hands against his jeans and wipe his palms. When he turned back around, he stuck them in his the pockets of his bomber to hide the fists. “You must have got some massive balls to be coming at me like you got your shit together. From what I remember, you wrote the book on I’m an island. You got any friends other than me and Steve? Where’s Yelena? She willing to look you in the eye yet or does she still hate your guts?” His jaw was grinding together so hard he felt the tension in his head. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, Barnes, by not calling you up for some girl talk. I didn’t want -- I didn’t want to do this anymore, and you’re not gonna get my reasoning. I respect you just like I respect Carol and Steve but none of you know what it’s like to be Black and have to factor that into your decisions. I talked to Rhodey, that good enough? Because he gets it. He gets it and I’m tired, man, of having to try and explain myself.” Sam shook his head. “I’m not asking anyone to put their life on the line for me right now. I’m asking for a break from this bullshit.” He gestured around the room of heroes. “I just need to catch my breath, and I can’t seem to do that even without the shield around you.”

BUCKY: The chair James was seated in was already creaking beneath his weight and though he tried to steel himself, the anger was only mounting. He rose quickly, the chair being pushed out from under him as a result. The plates shifted against one another as he balled his hand into a fist, the glean of gold flittering in the light a juxtaposition to the man donning it. The words were hot on his tongue; his retort ready, but James instead withdrew, extinguishing that flame as quickly as it had been ignited. He didn't say anything more. He simply exited the room, the door cluttering loudly behind him as he slammed it shut.

VISION: He had spent quite a while debating whether or not to attend the meeting, not sure whether his presence would be a benefit to his wife or a hindrance—especially with other much more pressing matters to tend to. Yet he’d also concluded the world should know The Vision was—alive. Back online. Perhaps he should have better read the room before he phased through the wall, but by the time he’d come to regret that, he was already emerging and re-solidifying just as Mr. Barnes stalked out. “It appears I’ve interrupted something, my apologies.”

RIRI: She didn’t do well with people. Never had, and yet, Riri always showed up when she needed to. Being Ironheart meant something to her. A kid in a garage from the wrong side of town wasn’t often excepted to amount to much but they had always called her exceptional. Being exceptional hadn’t saved her dad or Natalie. But, with some effort, it could save people in the future. So Riri sat there as the former Cap and former Winter Soldier went for each others throats. A part of her knew what Sam meant. She understood the sharp cut of racism, but it wasn’t her place to speak up. Instead, she looked to Peter. “Pretty sure this has done the opposite of what it was supposed to.”

CINDY: Cindy knew that she was going to feel uncomfortable and out of place coming to this meeting, but she felt a little more comfortable knowing some of the other younger heroes were there too. It definitely helped her with the anxiety she got at the sight of Barnes' chair being thrown back from under him. Things were definitely tense, and she barely knew what to say. Thankfully, Riri spoke up and Cindy nodded her head slowly and spoke quietly. "It's like 12 Angry Men. That movie about the jury all trying to come to one verdict. Just like that."

PETER: Peter had remained quiet throughout the entire ordeal, flinching visibly when the door slammed shut behind James as he stormed out. Vision entered not a moment later and Peter’s brain exploded a bit, “What - the fu—“ Riri and Cindy’s words shook him out of his minor stupor, but the teen still couldn’t shake that deer in the headlights look, “I— I don’t even - what is going on - “

CINDY: Cindy's eyes widened too at the sight of the Vision just phasing into the room. Honestly, it took everything in her not to jump at it. She was still getting used to having conversations with people outside of her bunker, so all of this was definitely a lot. Never in a million years did she imagine she'd ever be sitting in a room with all of these people. Her life had changed so drastically in the past seven years and she wasn't sure if she'd ever get used to all of this hero stuff. She didn't know how Peter did it. Then again, looking at him it looked like it was practically having a stroke. "Wish I could tell you I did, but I'm right there with you, Parker."

WANDA: It was a headache. Wanda felt the tension in the room, but as a telepath it was more than palpable. She knew both men but had a closer relationship with Sam. She had hurt both men, actually, even if their anger wasn’t directed at her. Wanda felt Pietro moments before he entered the room and she nodded at him with a small smile. Frate. Knowing that Crystalia - who he seemed to love for some reason in a way she had never seen her twin love before - didn’t like her, Wanda refrained from greeting the couple or her niece. Instead, she blinked in surprise as her husband phased in through a departing Bucky. “Vision.” Wanda jumped to her feet. “You came.” A surprise, considering she was on a heavy version of probation and forbidden from doing anything with reality. The fact that she hadn’t technically brought Vision back was likely to be ignored. But that didn’t matter. She held out a hand. “Darling. I’m glad you’re here.”

RIRI: “Stop looking like you’re about to wet your pants.” Riri nudged Peter with one shoulder. She didn’t really know Cindy so it was with a quiet hesitation that she glanced at her. “What’s happening is that people - like always -are fighting instead of getting stuff done. And we just sit here while they ignore us.”

MILES: Miles had been quiet for the entirety of the conversation, carefully listening to everything Sam was saying. It sucked, because he got it. Being Spider-Man was the one time the world didn’t see him as a Black kid first. So, seeing the way everyone treated Sam, who’d only ever been a good hero and a good man, just made him hope and pray that no one ever unmasked him. He never wanted that part of his daily life to bleed into Spider-Man’s. Sam had a shield but nothing protected him from racism. It all left him conflicted—he admired Sam for standing up for himself but part of him felt guilty for not doing the same. It made him begin to see how wearing his mask held a deeper meaning for him than it would for someone like Peter. “We all thought that guy was dead, right?” Miles asked, finally bringing himself back into the conversation between Peter, Cindy, and Riri.

STEVE: Steve was pretty used to the unexpected, but honestly the sight of Vision just had him more than a little taken by surprise. His eyes immediately shot to Wanda, who had resurrected two separate Avengers now and then he looked back to Nat. “Did...we know that was happening?”

CINDY: Cindy glanced to Miles and then back towards Riri, nodding her head as she tilted it to the side. "I'm pretty sure that's what people said, right? That all of Westview is gone, including the Vision that was inside of there?" She remembered that pretty vividly, actually. Mostly because her heart ached for Wanda to have to loose all of that. Family was such a foundation, and losing all of it at once had to be heartbreaking. Cindy had gone through losing her parents, and that was painful enough. And even then, she still had some hope that they were still out there. Actually losing your children and husband had to hurt ten times worse.

PETER: Peter leaned forward, burying his face in his hands, “You’re right,” he glanced to Riri for a brief moment before hiding his face again, “This is pointless. Accountability meeting my ass.” He hoped that last part wasn’t too loud, but just loud enough that his fellow young heroes would hear it. Before he could think of anything else to say, or before any other frustratedly snide remarks came spilling out, he acknowledged Miles’ comment, “Yeah. He was.”

RIRI: If anyone there got it, it was Miles. Riri couldn’t openly say that considering the fact that his identity was more under wraps, but she still glanced over at him with pursed lips before turning back to the group. “--uh, yeah, like three times over. Guess she just keeps bringing him back. I feel like someone should comment on that?”

PIETRO: Pietro narrowed his eyes at Daisy as he passed her, but otherwise said nothing. Had he told anyone about the incident? No. Was that to save Daisy’s ass from Wanda? Also, no. He was merely salvaging his own pride. No one needed to know anything, and as long as she didn’t out herself, all would be fine. “It means, as per usual, we could have stayed home.” he replied bitterly.

NADIA: Positioned to the side of Riri, Nadia had her head resting in her hand. She had been tapping the table lightly with her free hand as she mentally recited the periodic table. It was all to stay awake. They had been up late in the labs and she was exhausted. “Did you bring the snacks?” She turned to Sam ( Alexander ) as she sat up straight.

CRYSTALIA: Light eyes moving from Daisy to Pietro, Crystal waited a beat before nodding slowly. She was more of a representative than her sister, but Medusalith was Queen and that meant she was often too busy to indulge meetings such as these. “I take it there’s precautions this time to stop people from... overstepping?” That was directed at Wanda.

NOVA: Sam’s eyes were carefully trained on whoever was speaking at the time, but he heard Nadia’s request clear as day. Retrieving a small pouch of M&M’s from one of the very few pockets in his suit, he nonchalantly passed it to Nadia beneath the table before revealing a small granola bar for himself, “Of course I did — “ Tearing into the plastic as gently as he could, Sam took a tentative bite, hoping to god no one would call on him to speak in that moment.

DAISY: Daisy could feel Pietro's eyes glaring a hole through her, and she narrowed hers right back as she sat up in her chair and nodded her head firmly. "Yeah, you probably should have stayed at home." He was lucky she had let him leave without forcibly taking him in the other day. She was trying to do him a favor, sympathizing with the whole situation of him running Wanda away after what happened at Westview.

NADIA: “Sucrose. My favorite. Thank you.” Nadia whispered, popping three in her mouth before offering Sam one. She never felt like she had much to contribute to these -- funny, considering how much she usually had to say .”Sam, should we be participating more?”

PIETRO: At Crystal’s concern, Pietro pressed a quick but soft kiss to her temple. “She won’t come over here, I promise.” He assured her. Wanda understood how Crystal felt and even though it tore him in half —Crys needed time. He wouldn’t force that, even as badly as he wanted Wanda to meet his daughter. At Daisy’s comment, Pietro adjusted the baby in his arms and tilted his head in a manner that made him look uncanny to his twin. “Is that meant to be a threat?” He challenged.

DAISY: Daisy glared at Pietro, her one hand firmly gripping the metal table in front of her and the other clenched into a fist as she resisted the urge to just throw a sonic wave in his direction. But she wasn't a vigilante anymore, she was a government agent again. And she couldn't just use violence to solve her conflicts, as much as that was her first instinct sometimes. "I just kind of figured you would have got the message last time, that's all." She settled on, her eyes glancing down at the infant in his arms before shooting him one more hardened look.

MILES: Miles’ gaze met Riri’s and though they didn’t actually speak there was a mutual understanding to be had. He appreciated Cindy and Peter and Gwen, but there were just certain things that it was nice to have someone around that you didn’t have to explain them to. “Should we?” he asked, tilting his head. “I feel like if we just let her have this one, she might chill out.”

CRYSTALIA: Eyes rolling, Crystal muttered under her breath. “She doesn’t need to be near us to do something.” Wanda’s power was vast in a way that scared the Inhuman because there was no one she had grown up with who could do anything close on that scale. Her gaze hardened now as she became half tempted to take the baby to get Luna out of the middle. “I’m a Princess, but I don’t have to use my title and command you, Daisy, an Inhuman subject to tell me what business you have with my fiance, do I?”

PIETRO: He’d taken a breath, words loaded up on his tongue and ready to fly just before Crystal cut him off. At the new piece of information, his mouth closed and he regarded Daisy with surprise and a touch of amusement. Inhuman. And here he thought she’d been mutant. Regardless of his pride, Crystalia wouldn’t be fond of Daisy’s answer should she get one out of her.

DAISY: Daisy's eyebrows shot up pretty quickly at that as she let out a huff of a laugh and tilted her head over at the redheaded Princess. "I'm sorry, did you just call me a subject? " She was smiling, but it definitely was coming from a place of disbelief as she shook her head and chuckled again. "You don't get to decide that I'm suddenly Inhuman enough for you to command when it's convenient for you. I'm a Nuhuman, remember?" Maybe she had suppressed her slight annoyance at being called that when Crystal had tried to welcome her over, but it was coming out in full force now. All her life she felt out of place and isolated from everyone else, and now when she was finally secure in her identity with being an Inhuman, suddenly she's supposed to come to terms with the fact that because of the way it happened to her, she wasn't pure enough? No, that was bullshit. And when she realized that Crystal was asking her what happened, she turned to Pietro, totally amused. "You didn't tell her?"

RIRI: It was still uneven. The amount of white heroes to Black - or POC - was severely tilted. Sam was still there but had taken a seat by Steve and Natasha. Riri didn’t know what to say to him so she opted to sit by her friends instead. They didn’t have answers but that was okay. “Or she’s just gonna keep doing it. Idk. Someone could tell her therapist.” They didn’t need any more crazy white ladies running around.

NOVA: Absolutely nothing was getting done at this meeting after James had stormed out, save for the rehashing of drama and other unrelated topics. Sam could practically feel the tension in the room building, but he graciously accepted an M&M from Nadia whom he was continuously grateful was also present at this, “Honestly, I don’t know if I want to make things worse... although I’m not entirely sure that’s possible at this point.”

CRYSTALIA: “My family governs all Inhumans, and Nuhumans are an accidental offshoot. Our Mists, are responsibility.” Medusa had made a statement when the Mists had spread that they would provide aid for the Nuhumans if need be. Her patience was running thin though, and Crystal faced Pietro. “Tell me what?”

PIETRO: “Should I have gone home and told my fiancee the deranged lady at the avengers compound tried to drag the father of her child into S.W.O.R.D.?” There had been a number of reasons not to tell her — he avoided several arguments and an explanation. At Crystal’s immediate anger, anyone with half a brain would know why he didn’t say anything. “She tore up the road in front of the compound trying to take me in after I took Wanda from the Hex site. Might have worked if she’d been a little faster.” He taunted and as he spoke, Luna gently pulled at the pale strands of his hair and patted the stubble along the side of his jaw.

CRYSTALIA: With no Luna to hold, there was nothing to stop Crystal from crossing her arms over her chest. “Let me get this straight. After being tortured for two weeks by your sister, you left me and our child to visit her but ended up playing hopscotch with her?” She jutted her chin towards Daisy. “And for what reason did you see it fit to try and apprehend him? Wanda willingly went to your custody.” A wind stirred up between them, blowing towards Daisy until Crystal covered her face for a moment. “After what we’ve been put through, you should tell your fiancee the truth.”

PIETRO: Pietro huffed. “No. I stopped by the facility to pick up things from our old room for Luna and you because you wanted to move back to Attilan, on my way in—I ran into her.” he jutted his chin at daisy and glowered. “The whole ordeal took no more than five minutes.” he shrugged.

NATASHA: Through all the fighting, Natasha noticed the buzz of her phone. She had been the one hooked to the front gate of the Facilities from her time living there during the Snap and the permissions had never been removed. As soon as the face ID unlocked her phone, she frowned slightly and quickly excused herself. Nat recognized the faces on the screen but they were the last ones she had expected. After typing in the gate code and opening the fence, she waited with her hands on her hips in the entryway. “I’m surprised you have time from your busy schedule to stop by.” Natasha’s voice was polite as she led the surprise visitor towards the conference room. Opening the door, she came in first with a concerned expression on her face. “Look alive. We have a guest.”’

DAISY: "Still, doesn't mean you govern me. And because I have a job," Daisy stated simply, not seeing what more reason she needed. "Just so we're clear, Wanda broke several laws. And Pietro kidnapped her after she was ready to willingly go into S.W.O.R.D. custody. That's also illegal." She shrugged as she shook her head and rolled her eyes. "And I wasn't trying to take you into custody. I was trying to talk to you, actually. And stated that several times. And then you tried to run again." Daisy wasn't fully sure what Crystal's powers were, but judging by the wind she could only assume it'd put up a fight if need be. Not that Daisy wanted to fight, but she wouldn't hesitate to defend herself. "Trust me, if I had wanted to take you into custody, I would have." She could have thrown boulders at him, or broken one of his legs. But she was doing him a courtesy by not doing any of that.

JOHN: John had been notified of the meeting a few days prior, but that did nothing to quell the small pit of unease that felt like a lead weight in his stomach. His overall reception from the public had been fairly positive, but joining a group of bonafide superheroes, let alone those that had worked the closest with Steve before he decided to give up the shield - there was no telling how this would go. He and Lemar were greeted at the gates to the compound by Romanoff, and John reciprocated her seemingly polite greeting with a soft smile - one that might have felt a little too forced if you looked close enough, “Anything for Earth’s mightiest.” Natasha lead the duo down the hall and John could hear her address the group after entering the room. Straightening up a bit, he followed suit, coming to a stop beside Natasha, instinctively falling into the at ease stance. “Everyone,” he nodded a curt but firm greeting, “John Walker. Captain America. Pleasure to meet you all.”

STEVE: Their phones went off at the same time, but she was up first. He stayed in his chair, observing the notification from the front gate, perhaps longer than necessary. He opened it to pull up the small video display of John Walker standing outside. Steve clicked the phone off and braced himself in time for Nat to walk in with him in tow behind her. Steve didn’t move from leaned position he held with his chin against his knuckles and a blank look on his face as he observed John in a uniform that looked wrong on him.

SAM: This motherfucker. Sam cursed under his breath as Walker entered the room, looking smug in his shiningly patriotic uniform. He felt underdressed in his jeans and sneakers as he stood before the guy who had taken ( been given ) his job and was apparently better at it in the publics opinion. “Walker.” His voice was tight. “Didn’t think this was your scene. Run out of fans to high five?” Despite how the words could have been taken, Sam forced a chuckle into his throat to keep the words light.

NATASHA: With one tight smile, Natasha left Walker’s side to return to her seat by Steve. She leaned over as red hair brushed his shoulder. “Unannounced. Unless you invited him?” No, Steve wouldn’t do that with Sam present. “Not like we can kick him out.”

JOHN: John could tell there was malice behind Sam’s words - why wouldn’t there be? He’d been graciously given the job Sam passed up on, and wanted nothing more than to befriend the man, to fight alongside him - only Sam didn’t seem to feel the same. Far from it. Natasha’s comment didn’t seem to help either, but John’s jaw clenched and he gave Sam that familiar megawatt smile all the TV cameras couldn’t seem to get enough of. “Thought we’d offer our services,” he gestured to himself and Lemar and the other man nodded in acknowledgement, “Wherever needed.”

STEVE: Steve silently shook his head at Nat, observing John with an empty expression. His chin rested in his hand, gaze wavering between Sam and the kid. “Roster’s kinda full.” Steve said, eyes trained on the uniform that just seemed wrong on him.

SAM: “Tough break, buddy. We’re having group therapy right now.” He left Wanda out, unsure how John/the government felt about her. “I may not be Cap anymore, but I’m sure I can speak for everyone here when I say we’re glad to see you off the screen and in person.” He and Sam had already met, but from what Sam knew Walker hadn’t been around.

CINDY: Cindy raised her eyebrows and slowly glanced over to Peter and all of the other younger heroes sitting next to her. "I kinda wish I had brought some popcorn right about now." She whispered, hoping that she was quiet enough so that the rest of the room didn't hear that.

JOHN: John refused to meet Steve’s eyes for more than a brief second, but standing there, in front of the entire group, he could practically feel the retired Captain’s gaze burning a hole in his head. Chin up, he reminded himself, This isn’t your fault - they chose you, before turning to address Sam again. “Oh, I’m no stranger to group therapy,” it was clear Sam was mostly joking, but John kept up, firing back, “ - nothing better than getting your feelings right out in the open, eh Sam? Builds good rapport.”

SAM: It was almost impossible for Sam to resist the urge to pull a Bucky and storm out of the room. Walker’s presence felt deliberate. Disrespectful, even, but he didn’t want to start tossing that word around yet. John Walker hadn’t done anything except take a shield that was handed to him -- but that didn’t mean it sat right with Sam. There were quite a few feelings he wouldn’t have minded being out in the opinion, but Sam bit back a retort. “Looks like you picked the wrong night then. This visit spontaneous, or did you know we all had to meet?”

DAISY: Daisy kept her fists clenched under the table as she turned in automatic response to the new entrance in the room. The sight of John Walker walking in was enough to get Daisy’s mind off of wanting to say anything more to Crystal and Pietro. Her hotheadedness was distracted by the interaction between Sam and John, thankfully.

JOHN: Sam’s response was more than expected, but that didn’t make it sting any less. They clearly didn’t want him here. But the government did - and John didn’t work for the Avengers. “Aw, well that’s a shame,” he shrugged, feigning disappointment, “You won’t mind if I hang around for a bit anyway then, will ya?” A grin that would scare the scales off a crocodile followed his quip before blonde brows raised and his expression neutralized, “And it was spontaneous - like I said, just thought I’d drop in. Say hello.”

NATASHA: A brow arched, Nat’s arms crossing over her chest as she shifted in her chair. They had a few things to go over but it would be stupid to dive too deep with John there. You couldn’t exactly talk about how one should go about defying the government if the government was standing there grinning like they were old friends. “Of course not.” Natasha inclined her head towards two empty seats, face blank. “I just realized no one asked. You weren’t planning on applying for membership, were you?” That wasn’t an invite. It was super spy for *if you were planning on asking, don’t.*

JOHN: As the duo moved to occupy the two empty seats, John addressed Natasha with a strained laugh, “I think I’ll leave that gig to you all. Lot less structure in what you do,” they both took, their movements calculated and deliberate, “Us military guys thrive on structure.” John noticed many of the room’s occupants were staring at him, and he’d be lying if it didn’t make him mildly uneasy. But he waved it off, mentally and physically, moving a hand dismissively in Sam and Nat’s general direction, “Go ahead, don’t let me keep you.”

NATASHA: Sending Steve one brief look, Natasha rose from her chair to the front of the room. She braced both her arms on the podium that had been left after some conference with a half smile. “Okay, everyone. You heard the man.” Her smile was manufactured. “Let’s continue.” It’d be fake. It’d be small talk. It’d be, unfortunately, the best that they could do. The game was always changing and the new “Cap” in the room was just one sign of it. They’d have the ext day to recap and strategize. The rest of the night was officially about playing nice.

#momevents #event: misc #chatlog: accountability

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harryanddracoarehusbands-blog · 7 years

Text

"Oh my God. You're in love with her."

Harry was sitting at his desk working. Not stealing glances at Draco every chance he could get. They had just closed a case and were filling out the paperwork. Harry finished his report and looked up. Draco was staring off into space, a small smile on his face. "What are you so happy about?" Harry asked. Draco flushed.

Before he could answer, there was a knock on the door of their shared office space. "Come in," Harry called. He made a mental note to pester Draco later about his smiling and whatnot. A woman with black hair and fancy clothes stepped in. She didn't even glance at Harry, but instead went straight to Draco's desk. Draco stood and greeted her with a smile. He gave the woman a hug and a delicate kiss on her cheek. Harry looked away.

"Astoria," Draco said. "What are you doing here?"

"I was out and about in the Ministry and I thought I should come see you. Is now a good time?" She asked, glancing around at the paperwork on Draco's desk.

Harry wanted to tell her that it was most certainly not a good time. They were very busy, thank you very much, but Draco spoke before he could. "I'm almost done. Let me just finish this up and we can go get dinner?" Draco asked.

"That'd be lovely," Astoria said. Draco looked over the report once more, wrote a few things down, then set his quill down.

"Harry, you wouldn't mind sending this off for me, will you?" Draco asked.

arry grit his teeth and without looking up said, "Sure." Soon, Harry heard the door open and close. He was alone.

He stood to grab his and Draco's reports. As he approached Draco's desk, a vase exploded behind him. Deep breaths, he told himself. Accidental magic hadn't been a problem for him for a long while. But, he supposed there were a lot of firsts today. Didn't Draco say there wasn't anyone special in his life? He always refused to meet anyone his mother wanted to set him up with. His family was desperate for an heir. Draco always refused, however. Who was that girl?

A few months later...

"Harry! You were completely reckless. You could've gotten yourself killed!" Draco practically yelled. His face was red and he was running his hand through his hair. He only did that when he was extremely agitated.

"I'm fine. Look at me: not even a scratch," Harry argued.

"You're ridiculous. That's it. I'm filing for another partner. I cannot do this anymore," Draco said.

He turned to his desk, but Harry grabbed his arm. "Oh c'mon you don't mean that. You love me as your auror partner. The risks make it more fun," Harry joked.

Draco huffed, "It's not funny. One of these days, you're going to get yourself killed and then I'll be left to deal with the backlash and paperwork."

Harry nudged him on the shoulder. "Okay, okay. I promise I won't put myself in unnecessary danger anymore. It wasn't my intention to upset you. I'm sorry," Harry apologized. Draco was still facing away from him, but Harry could tell he was slightly more at ease.

"Fine," Draco said curtly. "I'm still writing in my report that you were impetuous. Don't come crying to me when Kingsley gives you a talking down to." He turned to sit as his desk.

Harry smiled and said, "I wouldn't expect anything less." Harry mirrored him and made it to his own desk. He began the paperwork, but was interrupted by Draco.

"I was wondering if I could ask your advice on something," Draco said.

"Sure," Harry said, looking up expectantly. "Well, Astoria's birthday is coming up, in September," Draco said and Harry tried not to wince, he really did. "But I don't know what to buy her. I found this bracelet, but I don't know if it's too much. Maybe I should look for rings." Harry completely froze at the word 'rings.' This could not be happening.

Draco stood and walked to the front of Harry's desk. He ignored his feelings and said, "In September? It's July right now!" "It’s August tomorrow. I only ask you because I've never gotten gifts for... lady friends. I figured you would know with Granger and the Weaslette," Draco said.

"Well, that's hardly the same," Harry said. They weren't dating. Sure, Ginny and him had dating once upon a time, but he never bought her a gift during that time. Buying for your friends was different than buying for your partners.

"Isn't it?" Draco asked confusedly.

Harry ignored him and asked, "What does the bracelet look like?" Draco brought out his wand, and a picture floated in front of Harry. It was gorgeous. There were more diamonds than Harry could count and they were all aligned in a beautiful design to form what looked to be swans. "Swans are her favorite animal. Is this too much?" Draco asked self-consciously. All Harry could feel was dreadful. It felt like a fifty ton weight was in his stomach.

"Oh my God. You're in love with her," Harry muttered. Before Draco could answer, Harry gathered up his stuff. He couldn't look at Draco right now, he just couldn't.

"Harry," Draco said. But Harry couldn't respond. He needed to get out of there now. "Harry wait," Draco said as Harry made his way to the door.

"I forgot I have... plans. I need to go," Harry said hurriedly and he walked out, leaving Draco behind. He didn't see Draco's confused expression, or the patronus message he sent to Hermione. As he was traveling down the elevator, it stopped on the Magical Creature Department floor. Hermione saw him and immediately pulled him out.

"Hermione! What are you doing?" Harry asked incredulously. He just wanted to go home and drink himself to sleep. Why couldn't people let him do that?

"Harry, I need your help with something," Hermione said, dragging him through her floor.

"Can't it wait until tomorrow 'Mione? I want to go home," Harry said.

"There's an office that keeps raining. But it's not water it's raining, it's mud," Hermione said. She stopped at a closed door. It was an unoccupied office, but Harry didn't need to know. He also didn't need to know that Hermione was the one who spelled it to rain.

Harry sighed and opened the door. Sure enough, the office was filled with mud and it was only getting worse. "I would think you'd know how to fix this, Hermione," Harry said.

He raised his wand and cast, "Finite incantatem," not really expecting it to work. The office immediately stopped raining and Harry raised an eyebrow at Hermione.

"Oh, I didn't think to use that spell. How silly of me," Hermione said, a blush covering her face. Harry stepped around her and said,

"Alright Hermione, I need to get home now." Hermione waved him off. Again, as Harry had his back to her, he didn't see a message patronus, this time delivering itself to Ron. He got back into the elevator and made his way all the way to the atrium, where the floo was.

As he stepped out, Ron stepped up to him. "Ron? What are you doing here?" Harry asked quizzically.

"Just wanted to surprise Hermione," Ron said, holding up a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

"Oh," Harry replied.

"But while I got you here, I was wondering if I could get your advice on something," Ron said. Harry remembered being asked the same thing by Draco and he wanted to go home now more than ever.

But he stayed and asked, "What's up?"

"Er, well Hermione and I had a little argument over... the dishes. Yeah, the dishes. She said that she wants to hand wash them the muggle way, but I said spelling them clean is faster and better. It turned into a big fight. What should I do?" Ron asked.

"Well, the flowers are a good start. I would say to er, hand wash the dishes with her. It's easy and you can get through dishes fast," Harry said.

Ron nodded. "I'll see you," Harry said. He began to walk away but Ron grabbed his arm.

"Wait!" Ron exclaimed.

"What?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"How do you hand wash dishes? I've no idea," Ron said and Harry sighed.

"I'm sure Hermione will show you. I need to go now Ron," Harry pleaded. Why did everyone and their mother need to speak with him today? Ron let him go grudgingly and Harry stepped away. When he made it to the fireplaces, he jumped in and said his address. The familiar tugging sensation overtook him, but before he made it home, he was thrown back into the Ministry. He tried it again twice with the same results. He switched to a different fireplace, but it still didn't work. Great, he thought, now the floo isn't working.

Ten minutes later, he was out of the Ministry and above ground. Once he found a deserted alleyway, he apparated to his apartment. A sigh of relief escaped his mouth as he walked up to steps to his door. He used his wand to unlock the door and bring down his wards. When he opened the door and turned on the light, yells of "Surprise!" rang through the house. He looked around and saw all of his friends: Hermione, Ron, Luna, Ginny, Blaise, Neville, Seamus, Dean, everyone.

At the front was the one and only Draco. "Happy birthday Harry!" Hermione said.

"You guys didn't really argue about dishes, did you?" Harry asked. Ron snorted and shook his head. Hermione stepped up to him and gave him a hug. He returned it. "Thank you 'Mione," Harry said.

She shook her head and said, "Oh, don't thank me. It was all Draco's idea." Harry released her to look up at the man in question. Draco was biting his lip and looking unsure of himself. "Thanks," Harry said and Draco nodded. And the party began. It was nice for Harry to talk to his friends and drink some beer. He had wanted something stronger, but he supposed he would have to wait.

As the night passed on he tried to not follow Draco with his gaze everywhere, but old habits died hard. Draco was seemingly trying to keep to himself. Harry knew it must have been hard for him to contact everyone to invite them. Not everyone has made the best amends with him despite how much he had changed. Everyone started to file out sometime after midnight. Most of them did have work tomorrow, after all. Harry closed the door behind Seamus and Dean, but didn't turn around. He knew who was standing behind him. He wasn't ready to face him even after all of this. Draco put a lot of effort into the party and Harry was grateful. But his heart was also shattered into a million pieces.

"Did you like the party?" Draco asked. Harry nodded and finally turned around.

"It was great. Thank you... Draco," Harry said and Draco beamed. Harry feigned a yawn and said, "But it was very tiring. Need rest for work tomorrow, you know." He hoped Draco would take the hint. Instead he said something completely unexpected.

"I believe you misunderstand my and Astoria's relationship," he said.

Harry's eyebrows raised, "Oh?"

"We're friends. Just friends. She helped me with something, that's all. There's nothing more between us," Draco explained. Harry tired to squash the hope growing in his chest. He knew it couldn't amount to anything.

"Why are you telling me this? Your love life has nothing to do with me," Harry said.

Draco looked down at his feet and said, "Maybe it does."

"What?" Harry asked.

"I didn't give you your birthday present yet," Draco said. He pulled a black box from his coat and stepped up to Harry. Hesitant hands took the box and opened it. Inside it was a beautiful watch. Lifting it, Harry looked at the back, where there was an engraving. It said, "Just in case you lose yourself in time xxx"

"It's marvelous," Harry said.

"Yeah it is," Draco said. Harry looked up to see Draco watching him. He was so close. His eyes flicked down to Draco's lips and back to his eyes. Harry thought he could lose himself in those eyes forever. Draco leaned in until there was only a centimeter of space between them. He looked down at Harry's lips and Harry lost it. He leaned in the rest of the way and their lips met. It was everything he ever hoped it would be. Draco's lips were soft against his own. When their tongues met, Harry almost collapsed against him with pleasure. After a few moments of this, Draco broke the kiss to murmur, "Happy birthday, Harry." Then their lips joined again. It was the best gift Harry had ever gotten.

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