#in that classic way of his -- even lying down still a pretzel

[variousqueerthings]

hawkeye’s head in margaret’s lap while she plays with his hair, it’s what they both need

#did i already make this post? i feel like i already made this post #it's an image that's in my head so constantly i feel like i might have #hawkeye pierce #margaret houlihan #MASH #to continue: hawkeye is talking about something and waving his arms about and his legs are crossed #in that classic way of his -- even lying down still a pretzel #margaret is treating him like you do a cat -- cannot move for as long as he's in her lap #occasionally her free hand strokes his face or his collarbone #both of them wearing bathrobes and stretched out on a soft couch #no rush no hurry no place to be nothing important to talk about #ultimate queerplatonic dynamic #makes it on new years in keeping with theme #aromantic margaret #aromantic hawkeye

[heavyhitterheaux]

She Gotta Complex

AN: These two need their own podcast 😭😭

Synopsis: Complex interview with Jack and Druski featuring Jack talking about his long term girlfriend

Requested by: my little sister @softtcurse (I hope you love this) ❤️

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

You were currently on set with your boyfriend Jack as well as Druski for their Goat Talk interview with Complex. The last few days had been a lot for you seeing as you had been finishing up taking your finals and was thankful that the semester was finally over with. Your body was still trying to recover from what it had gone through for sixteen weeks and you had the entire summer off before going back again in the fall.You were currently scrolling through your phone replying to text messages as you felt a presence behind you.

“Dru, go away.” You said while rolling your eyes before you started laughing.

“I didn’t even do anything! And how’d you know it was me?!”

“I never believe anything that comes out of your mouth and I’m definitely not about to start believing it now. I have eyes in the back of my head from watching my nieces and nephews so I see everything even when I’m not looking.”

“Druski! Leave my girl alone!” You heard Jack say before throwing something at him.

“I just wanted to greet her properly! I haven’t seen her in like a year!”

“Okay, now you’re lying because you saw me last month.” You replied while making your way to sit down on the side next to Neelam and Urban.

“Well it feels like a year!”

“Will you two come on so they can get started?” Neelam asked before rolling her eyes.

“I’m actually surprised that Dru is here on time. You know he’s usually always late.” Urban added and all Druski did was once again roll his eyes.

“Because yall went and got him, that's why.”

“No Druski slander will be tolerated!”

“Hold on!” Jack said before coming over towards you and leaning down to kiss you and you couldn’t do anything but smile. 

“Okay, I’m good now. We can start.”

“SIMP!” Druski yelled towards him and all the two of you did was roll your eyes.

“And that’s why you’re single!” You yelled back at him and he held up his arms in defense.

“I could have a girlfriend if I wanted to!”

“And I can’t wait until you get one so we can call you a simp and terrorize you like you do us.”

“I don’t even be terrorizing yall. Dramatic as hell.”

“I know you not about to sit up and lie.”

“I tell no lies.”

“Druski, come sit your ass down so we can start.”

—

“Goat sex position?” Jack asked while looking down at the card in front of him.

“Wow… you were thinking about this for the longest?” Druski said while busting out laughing.

“Years actually.”

“Well it’s super easy for me, don’t have to do too much. You kinda scoop under and come from the side, one leg up. It’s effective, you can actually be half sleep and she rolls over on you.”

“Oh, so it starts with spooning?”

“Yeah, right from the side. Now what were you thinking mine was?”

“I thought that it was going to be what mine is, you know what they call me.”

Druski had a confused look on his face while trying to think.

“My tik tok name.”

“Ahhh, missionary Jack. Is that your favorite or is that just your go to?”

“I like a lot of them and Y/N can tell you since she’s sitting right over there, but…..

“No the fuck he did not just say my name.” You muttered while looking over at Urban who was trying not to laugh.

“I know her favorite is probably reverse cowgirl.”

“OH! Y/N! Your man is over here telling all your damn business!”

“Well if he doesn’t shut up, I don’t plan on doing anything reverse on him tonight!” 

“Stop lying because I am definitely about to bend you like a pretzel when we leave here.”

“JACKMAN, FOCUS!”

“Okay, okay!” Jack replied as he held up his hands in defense.

"Hmm Goat childhood toy?"

"He man castle."

"What the? What the hell is that?"

"You never heard of it?" Jack asked while trying not to laugh.

"No definitely not, and mine is bop it."

"Oh definitely a classic. Makes me think of Y/N and all her damn Bratz dolls that she still has to this day."

"Since when am I involved in this interview? And no Bratz doll slander will be tolerated!"

"And her favorite is Jade. She has about 20 damn versions of that one."

"Jackman! Watch yourself!"

"And don't even get me started on her Hello Kitty, Sanrio obsession. I can't even imagine how much money I've spent on those." 

"Druski! Read the next card before I kick my boyfriend's ass for acting outta pocket!"

"How am I acting outta pocket if it's true!?"

“Urban, get your best friend before I do.” You said turning towards him and all he did was hold his hands up in defense.

“Okay, settle down you two. Goat rapper? I’ve heard you say a few names but of all time.”

“Damn, um. Definitely Drake.”

“You are such a fucking Drake groupie. I swear if he wasn’t with me, he would date him.”

“Y/N, I swear when we get done…..”

“You not about to do a damn thing.”

“Anyway, go ahead Druski. And watch your answer, you got friendships on the line here.”

“Uhh, Dj Unk?”

“What?!”

“Dj Unk!”

“I mean the man is a legend so okay, I’ll take it.”

“Okay, next card.”

“Goat vaccination spot?” Jack said looking at the card confused.

“What?”

“I don’t know man, I guess they’re trying to get political.” Jack replied before turning the card towards Druski so that he could see it. 

“That says vacation, not vaccination, dumbass!”

“Oh, my fault.”

“Your boyfriend is slow as shit sometimes.” Urban whispered to you and you couldn’t do anything but laugh.

“That’s my man and imma stick beside him.”

“We know.” Neelam added while laughing.

“Okay, Goat Jack Harlow song?”

“Easy, Luv is Dro. Your voice, the lyrics, everything.”

“Thank you man, appreciate that. I think for me it’s Keep it Light. I love certain songs because of how they sound and love other ones because of the lyrics and that one just incorporates both.”

“CONFETTI AND LOOSE SUPREMACY! SYLVIA ALL DAY!”

“For her to scream she’s not a part of the interview, she surely is answering all the questions.”

“Druski, watch it! I will kick your ass!”

“She’ll do it too. Don’t put it past her.” Jack answered while laughing and then relaxing back in his seat.

“You supposed to defend me.”

“Defend you from my girl? So she can kick my ass too? Nah, I’ll sit this one out.”

“Okay last card. Goat snack food?”

“Not cheeze its but the knock off brand cheese nips.”

“Like that’s your greatest of all time?”

“Yeah, they’re top tier. And I already know what your answer is going to be.”

“What’s my answer going to be?” Jack curiously asked and Druski simply pointed at you.

“Right over there.”

“What the?! HEY!” You screamed while looking at the two of them.

“Nah, that’s not a snack, my girl is a whole meal that I plan on devouring after we leave here.”

“JACKMAN! BEHAVE!”

“I am behaving! But food wise, definitely garden salsa sun chips.”

“This was a hot ass mess from start to finish.” You said while looking over at Neelam who couldn’t believe the chaos that occurred over the past twenty minutes.

“Are we even surprised at this point when these two are involved?”

“No, no we are not.”

“Baby! Let’s hurry up and leave so we can recreate the Luv is Dro music video.”

“Yall are disgusting from the time yall wake up until the time yall go to sleep.” Druski said before rolling his eyes.

“Sounds like something a single person would say, huh?”

“I’m tired of the Druski slander!”

“Not slander, just calling it like I see it.” You said while smiling up at him.

“We can recreate it as long as you show me your goat vaccination spot.” You said as Druski busted out laughing and Jack rolled his eyes.

“Oh, imma show you the spot alright.”

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#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x you

[bluestar22x]

Chapter 4

Baby Fever - Chapter 4

Series Summary: It all started with a classic case of baby fever

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!(Wife)Reader

Rating: 18+ Series

Warnings: Lots of fluff, supportive Marcus, mentions of morning sickness, some swearing, and health anxiety.

Word Count: 2,611

Author's Note: Finally got the chance to update this fic. Real life was making me very tired but today was a day off work so I had the energy to get this done. So happy.

xxx

You woke up that morning in the best kind of way, to Marcus calling out your name softly and pressing his lips to your forehead. You sighed, drowsy and still slightly annoyed you'd had to be woken up at all, but grievances were forgotten when you blinked your eyes open and saw your husband gazing down at you with a tenderness in his eyes that always made you melt.

"How are you feeling this morning?" he asked you quietly, kissing your temple, the one on the same side of you that he was lying next to, belly down and propped up on his elbows.

"Well, I'm not rushing to the bathroom, so that's something," you replied, glancing over to the alarm clock on your nightstand.

It was six-thirty in the morning. You groaned. "Fuck. Why'd I agree to an eight o' clock doctor's appointment?"

"Because otherwise she wouldn't be able to see you for another month," Marcus reminded you, lifting his brows slightly. "And you need to get your tests done. Want to."

It had been four weeks since you'd found out you were pregnant, and you had called Dr. Harrington the very next day to find out when you needed to go see her, which had led you to set an appointment with her during your tenth week of pregnancy, for your first ultrasound (ever) and bloodwork that would check on your health and the baby's.

You were excited about the ultrasound, you really were, but you weren't looking forward to getting your blood drawn, especially after the night you'd just had.

You'd escaped morning sickness for two more weeks after finding out about the baby, but you had indeed eventually started to get the queasiness you'd expected. You'd thrown up once or twice a day consistently since then, but the previous night it had been three times, all within an hour of each other, plus lots of dry heaving in between.

Marcus had spent half the night up with you, rubbing your back comfortingly as you knelt in front of the toilet and offering water to you to rinse out your mouth when your retching became productive.

It was after two o' clock in the morning by the time you felt like you could stray from the bathroom, so exhausted Marcus had to guide you to and into your bed, tucking you in and curling his body around yours, gently pressing a warm hand against your stomach under your flannel night shirt. The heat radiating from his palm acted like a hot water bottle and finished what the vomiting had started, lulling you to sleep faster than any other time you could recall.

You were grateful for everything he'd done for you, how if he wasn't at work he was always with you, doing whatever he could to help you as promised, so you couldn't find it in your heart to be annoyed with him, but you were annoyed that he had to wake you not even five hours later, appointment be damned.

He was right though. You did want to see your baby. The knowledge that you would that day already had warmth blooming in your chest.

By sheer will you rolled yourself out of bed and cupped your face in your hands. "Dibs on the shower first," you declared, yawning.

Marcus tilted his head at you. "Of course. I'll go get breakfast started. Pancakes?"

"Sure," you mumbled. "Though I don't know if they'll stay down."

He stood and pulled on one of the white t-shirts he tended to wear with his flannel sleep pants, lips pushed out in a frown. "You should bring that up with Dr. Harrington. See what other suggestions she has besides peppermint tea and pretzels to help with that."

"I will." You waved him off. "Now go and make it. I’m hungry. Let's eat before my body realizes I'm awake."

Marcus couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Alright, I'm on it."

He marched off and you started to strip down, taking a moment to feel the space between your hips. You still didn't feel a difference, couldn't see a difference there, not yet, but you still liked doing it, if only to remind yourself that you being nauseous for half the day was for a good reason.

"You'd better be okay," you warned your unborn child, though you knew they couldn't hear you yet, let alone understand you. "I'm not going through this for nothing."

x

You made it past breakfast and the drive to the hospital before your queasiness returned, brought on by all the paperwork you had to fill out in Dr. Harrington's waiting room. All those questions asking about your medical history, and Marcus', and both your families. Marcus' side was mostly healthy, or as much as the typical family was. He had one grandfather who died of diabetic complications and a grandmother who died of a stroke, but who didn't in America, really?

It was your side of the family that was making you nervous. You didn't know anything about your bio family, and that was disconcerting. You'd never considered that before, that you could be sentencing an innocent baby to some terrible disease your family had that you had no clue about.

When you expressed your concern to Marcus, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and squeezed them slightly. "I'm sure they'll be fine, honey. You are."

"That doesn't mean anything," you argued, and he shook his head at your insistence.

"Not worth worrying about when there's nothing you can do about it," he told you.

He was right. Well, you could've gotten a DNA test, but you'd heard those sometimes gave results that added on more health anxiety than necessary. You didn't need that.

You forced yourself to hand back the paperwork with its blanks and sat back down with him, clasping his left hand in your right, trying to focus on his solid presence instead of your mysterious family history.

You found yourself glancing around the room, at the four other women in varying stages of pregnancy waiting there for their own appointments and were even more grateful for him.

Only one of the other women had their partner with them, the one that seemed farthest along. Probably almost ready to have her baby judging by how round she was.

The rest were alone. You hoped for their sake it wasn't the norm, or at the very least it was because their partner couldn't get out of work. Still, you couldn't have imagined what it would have been like coming here alone if Marcus hadn't been able to take the day off. You could’ve done it, sure, of course, but you would've definitely thrown up because of your nerves.

You were tightening your grip on his hand when you heard your name called out. Swiveling your head towards the voice, you spotted a nurse by the door that led to the back rooms, a clipboard of papers and a pen in hand. Her name tag read Harper. You recognized her, the only woman you had ever seen with a mullet. She was fairly new, but she'd been the nurse to escort you to a room the last time you had your yearly physical. You recalled her being nice enough.

You followed her through the door wordlessly, Marcus close behind you, and Harper gestured for you to step on the scale. After she'd written down your weight you were led into the very last room, one equipped with an ultrasound machine next to the examination table.

After you'd sat down, she asked you further questions about your medical history, if you were on any medications currently (you were not, besides the prenatal vitamins you got at the pharmacy ten minutes from your house), and she probed for why you hadn't filled out your family history.

"I'm adopted," you informed her patiently. She started clicking around your files on the laptop in front of her and nodded. "Ah. Yes. That is already in the notes."

She scanned the files and filled in the missing information that she could for the next few minutes then stood from the stool she was planted on. "That's it for now. I'll go get the doctor."

You nodded and tried to relax as she stepped out, eyes wandering to Marcus, who was seated in a chair next to you, studying the posters on the wall. You'd seen them at least a dozen times, having been a patient of Dr. Harrington for nearly a decade so you knew which one his eyes ended up lingering on most - the one with the stages of pregnancy drawn on it with the baby's position in the uterus and size shown. The attention he gave it made you warm again. You'd really chosen your partner well.

He'd felt your eyes on him and you were sharing smiles when there was a knock at the door and Dr. Harrington entered.

"Hello," she greeted you brightly, saying your name after. She pushed her reading glasses higher up on her nose. "How are you doing today?"

"Alright," you answered automatically.

"She's being modest," Marcus told her. "She was up half the night sick."

"Peppermint tea and pretzels not working?" Dr. Harrington inquired, turning back to you.

"It helps," you replied, "Just not always. I still get sick once or twice a day. And something must have really tipped me off last night cause it was three times."

"What did you eat last night?"

"Just toast."

Dr. Harrington hummed. "One night doesn't say much, but keep trying things out. There's crackers and ginger that might work better for you. And keep avoiding harder to digest foods."

Neither you nor Marcus brought up the pancakes from that morning. It was your dirty secret and it was one of those few carb loaded foods you could handle so it didn't matter.

"If it keeps getting worst or you notice you're losing weight, just call me and I can get you a prescription for the nausea," Dr. Harrington continued, "But I'd rather you try all the simple remedies first."

You nodded. You'd expected as much, but it was worth bringing it up to her anyway, so at least she knew it wasn't going so smooth for you.

"Congratulations, by the way," she added. "I know how anxious you were for this to happen."

"It was about time," you said, and she laughed.

"I know, I know how it can feel like forever when you're trying. But I promise you that this took a normal amount of time."

She twisted to face Marcus for a moment. "It's nice to finally meet you, Marcus. You must be excited too?"

"I am," he confirmed, a hand reaching out for yours automatically.

A smile flickered on her face upon witnessing it. "Good. I'm glad you were able to come in today too."

"Nothing could've stopped me," Marcus told her firmly, and you had no doubt that was true. If his boss hadn't given him time off, he'd have come anyway, no matter the consequences. He was determined to be there for you and didn't want to miss a thing.

"Good man," Dr. Harrington noted, nodding her head in approval.

"The best," you affirmed, and caught Marcus looking a bit flushed at that. He was used to giving compliments, not receiving them, even after being with you for two years.

After that Dr. Harrington got to work, giving you the typical physical and engaging you in a series of questions throughout the exam, mostly about how you were feeling, other than queasy.

"I don't feel much different otherwise," you had answered honestly. "Maybe a little more tired, maybe a little more hungry, but that's also not not typical of me, you know?"

She had snorted at that. "I know what you mean. Day to day life, especially when you have a full time job is tiring enough without having to grow a baby at the same time."

"Marcus suggested I take a break from working," you informed her. "But I said no. Am I crazy?"

Dr. Harrington chuckled again. "No. If you want to keep working there's nothing wrong with that. Your job isn't too physically demanding and it's good for your mentality to get out of the house and interact with people too. Just go to bed early and make sure to take breaks when you need them."

Once she was done examining you, she had you lay back and unbutton your jeans to allow her access to the part of your abdomen that she needed to use the ultrasound probe on.

"The gel will be cold," she warned just before squeezing it onto your belly.

It was cold, but not enough to make you flinch. You still glanced down at the pile of goop as she spread it around the surface of your lower belly with the probe, but once you had, your eyes quickly turned up to the screen.

There was mostly darkness, with patches of white and gray at first, nothing shaped like anything you knew was inside you. Not even intestines. You hadn't been trained to be able to discern anything on a machine like that after all. But when an oblong shape appeared on a backdrop of blackness you immediately knew what it was because you'd seen all of your sister's ultrasound pictures and a bunch online as well.

You beamed at the sight and briefly craned your neck to look at Marcus, who squeezed your hand when he saw your joyful and awed expression. He was grinning just as widely as you and it took ten years off of him.

"That's our baby," you stated, whispered.

"I know," he said back, voice also low and calmer than he looked. He leaned forward to press a kiss to your temple and then replaced it with his forehead, eyes closing momentarily. "I love you so much. Thank you for making me a dad."

Your heart soared. Marcus a dad. You a mother. A mom. Both, together. "I love you too," you said a little breathlessly.

"How are they?" Marcus asked Dr. Harrington, pulling away a bit.

She smiled even wider than she already had been after having watched your exchange. "The baby is looking perfectly fine. I can't see anything concerning. I just need to turn on the sound to listen to the heartbeat."

You quivered with excitement. "You think we'll hear it today? Since I'm ten weeks?"

"Yeah, it's usually long enough," she told you.

She did what she needed to do to turn up the volume and a sound that reminded you of horses galloping on a soft surface emitted from the device in her hand. You'd also heard this before, having listened to the sound of fetal heartbeats on YouTube while you and Marcus were trying, but that hadn't prepared you for hearing your own baby's heartbeat for the first time.

There was something so profound about it, knowing with absolute certainty you were pregnant and that the baby's heartbeat sounded strong. Fast.

"Normal?" Marcus questioned, eyes flickering briefly from the screen to Dr. Harrington.

"Sounds good to me," she replied simply. "Congrats again, you two."

"Thanks," you said to her, before your eyes met Marcus' once more. "I have a feeling I'll sleep better tonight." Your nausea had faded through the course of the sonogram. “Once I get through the blood draw.” Just saying that had the nerves kicking back up.

Marcus briefly grimaced for your sake. "I will sleep well too," he said after, lifting your hand up and kissing the top of it. "Nothing but good dreams tonight."

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed

xxx

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#Marcus Pike Fanfic (Mine) #X Reader #Baby Fever Series

[curlynerd]

Happy Birthday, Cas! Word Count: 3K Rating: T Summary: Appalled that Cas has never had a birthday party before, Jack drags Dean into his schemes to plan a surprise party for him. Dean finally works up the courage to tell Cas how he feels. Notes: love confessions, first kiss, lots of fluff, and lots of Cas' family showing up much they care

Also read on AO3!

"You've never celebrated Cas' birthday?!" Jack exclaimed by way of greeting at -- Dean groaned and rolled over to check the time. -- 6:47 in the morning.

"Jack..." Dean sighed, dragging his hand down his face and sitting up in bed. "We've been over this. You promised not to come barging in here until at least 8:30."

"Huh?" Jack titled his head at Dean before his gaze trailed over to the bedside clock. "Oh. Sorry. I forgot to check the time."

"All those God powers and you can't even conjure up a watch?" Dean grumbled as he threw the sheets off his legs and planted his feet on the floor. "Now what were you saying about Cas?"

"His birthday!" Jack's expression was too damn excitable for this early in the morning. "I was telling him about how we celebrated my birthday after Mrs. Butters left, and I asked him about his birthday, and he said he'd never celebrated one before!"

Dean frowned at Jack. This was what he was woken up for? "Kid, I don't think he has one. The dude's older than calendars."

Jack was undaunted. "Yeah, but he was born, right? Even angels are born."

Okay, it was way too early for existential questions. He needed coffee. Dean grunted his acknowledgment and dragged himself to his feet. "Did Cas say when his birthday was?"

"Well, no." Jack furrowed his brow for just a second before his face lit up in enthusiasm. "Why don't we celebrate today?"

Dean stared at Jack. Jack's eyes were wide and sincere and full of love, just like his dad's. And, apparently, just as effective. "Alright..." Dean said with a defeated sigh. Who was he to deny the kid a chance to make his dad happy? "Whacha wanna do for his birthday?"

Jack beamed. "A surprise party! With cake!"

"Yeah, I figured as much." Dean scrubbed at his hair and wiped the last of the sleep out of his eyes as he shuffled his feet into his slippers. "Coffee first, though. Then the store."

"What kind of cake should we make?" Jack asked an hour later, as he and Dean pondered every box mix the grocery store had to offer.

“Hmm…” Dean eyeballed the box of funfetti mix. Jack would probably like that one best. It had sprinkles baked in. Dean kind of wanted a classic chocolate cake. And Cas, well. He wouldn’t care. He’d probably take two bites at most, just to appease Jack.

“This one.” Dean’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he reached for a box and held it out for Jack.

“Angel food cake?” Jack read.

Dean nodded, his grin widening at his little joke. “Yeah! It’s special. Angels love it, ya know.”

Jack tilted his head at Dean, then the box, before a smile bloomed across his face. “You gave me angel food cake once. I really liked it! Is that why you got it for me?”

Dean thought back to that drive, and his little snack cakes morality test. “Yup. That was definitely why.” He snatched the box from Jack’s hand and tossed it into the cart before he could ask more questions. “Let’s wrap this up before Cas wonders why we’ve been gone so long.”

If Cas was ignorant of Jack’s birthday plans before, he wasn’t for long. Neither Dean nor Jack thought to do much to conceal the contents of their shopping bags when they returned home. Or figure out a way to keep Cas from wandering the bunker. So when he stumbled upon the two of them hauling bags toward the kitchen, both Dean and Jack traded suspicious glances.

“Dean and I will be in the kitchen for awhile,” Jack said seriously, cutting straight to the chase. “Do not come in there though!”

“Oh?” Cas’ gaze flickered down to their bags. A package of birthday hats stuck out of the opening of one. A canister of rainbow sprinkles was nestled at the top of another. His mouth twitched as his eyes softened with warmth. When they met Dean’s eyes, Dean’s stomach did a flip. Cas’ eyes grew even warmer.

‘He loves you,’ Dean’s thoughts helpfully supplied at the worst possible moment, ensuring Dean’s face burned with a fierce blush right as Cas looked his most adoring. Dean hastily averted his gaze.

Cas hadn’t been back from the Empty for long, only a couple of weeks really. But it felt like an eternity.

Because Dean hadn’t told him yet. He hadn’t looked him in the eyes and said ‘I love you too.’ Hadn’t dragged him in by the lapels of his stupid trenchcoat and kissed him senseless. Hadn’t held him close and promised him that he could have Dean, all of him, for as long as he wanted to keep him.

The moment had never been right. There were always people around. Jack. Sam. So many of their friends, eager to see them and celebrate their victory over Chuck and their newfound freedom. Things were only now starting to quiet down, and still Dean hadn’t worked up the courage to tell him.

“It’s for a surprise,” Jack continued, pulling Dean from his thoughts. “Er, not a surprise! We’re not planning any surprises!” Dean barely controlled his eyeroll. The kid really needed to work on his lying. “It’s something you can’t know about until later. So don’t even think about peeking!”

Cas and Dean traded knowing looks. Dean shrugged a little. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Cas assured Jack.

Jack brightened. “Great! Come on, Dean. Let’s go!” He practically skipped toward the kitchen, radiating enthusiasm with every step. Dean sighed and followed after him, already anticipating the huge mess at the end of all this. At least it was just box mix. That was easy enough to handle.

As it turned out, even box mix wasn’t foolproof.

“Is it supposed to look like that?” Jack asked in concern. He poked at the misshapen mess of their cake.

“Probably not.” Dean shrugged. It was a disaster zone, is what it was. Apparently angel food cake required a special pan. It looked similar enough to a bundt pan, though, so Dean thought it was an okay substitute. Clearly not. Or maybe they overmixed it? Was that why it sunk into this lumpy, craggy mess and then fell apart when they tried to shake it out of the pan?

“But ya know, homemade cake never looks as fancy as the stuff you get at the store, but it tastes just as good.” He slapped Jack on the back. “Put some frosting on this thing, maybe some decorations, and we’re golden.”

And so they set to work. Jack clearly had a vision of what he wanted, pulling supplies from the pantry to add to the disaster cake. He insisted on covering it in a thick layer of chocolate frosting, even though Dean tried to tell him angel food cake didn’t usually need it. It was vital to what he was creating. A full hour passed, and somehow the thing looked even worse than when it first flopped out of the pan.

“Cas is gonna love it,” Dean said anyway, because he knew it was true. Jack beamed with pride.

“At what point am I no longer banned from the kitchen?” Almost as if on cue, Cas’ voice called out from down the hallway. “Am I allowed to walk past it? I’d like to go into the library.”

“You can come in!” Jack yelled back, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement.

Dean looked around at the decoration-less kitchen, the party hats and the balloons still in their packaging. “Wait, hold on--” he began, but it was too late.

“SURPRISE!” Jack shouted as Cas rounded the corner. “Happy birthday, Cas!”

“A surprise for me?” Cas didn’t even seem to notice that the only things in the kitchen were a weird brown blob of cake and a massive mess. He was smiling from ear to ear at Jack with that special, endeared smile parents reserved just for their children. “But I told you I didn’t have a birthday,” Cas said. Which he and Jack had talked about literally hours ago. Before Jack raced off to talk with Dean and plan an impromptu trip to the store before baking all morning.

Yeah. Cas definitely knew what Jack was planning today.

“Well, Jack decided today was your birthday. So, happy birthday.” Dean shrugged a little in a ‘Kids. What can ya do?’ sort of way.

Cas’ expression softened. “Today is a perfect day for a birthday.”

“We made a cake!” Jack bounded over to Cas and practically dragged him to the kitchen counter. “Do you like it?”

“It is…” Cas frowned and knit his eyebrows together at the monstrosity before him. “An inside-out hedgehog?”

“It’s a Sarlacc Pit!” Jack exclaimed while Dean clutched at the table, doubled-over with laughter. Jack pointed out the pretzel rods jutting out around the misshapen, lumpy hole in the center of the sunken cake. They’d done their best to make the chocolate frosting around it look like smooth sand, but of course it was way too brown. And bits of warm cake kept breaking off while they iced it. “That’s its teeth, and that’s the sand. It’s a Star Wars cake!”

“Oh, of course it is!” Cas said generously. He patted Jack’s shoulder. “It’s wonderful, Jack. And Dean.” He nodded at Dean, who was still trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah we’ve got ourselves the next Cake Boss over here. If the God thing doesn’t work out.” Dean’s voice rippled with laughter. He snatched up the bag of party hats and ripped it open. Cas looked exceedingly tolerant as Dean snapped one on his head with an impish grin. “So birthday boy, whacha wanna do on your special day?”

“Oh I know!” Jack exclaimed. His enthusiasm was infectious. “First we’ve gotta…”

The day wound up being more about Jack than Cas. Or rather, Jack doing all the things he loved to do with Cas. There was a Star Wars movie marathon. There was cake. There were more board games than Dean had played in a lifetime. Dean had a sneaking suspicion Cas let Jack win most of them.

But Cas had smiled almost non-stop the entire day, probably more than Dean had seen the entire thirteen years since he’d met him. And yeah, Dean knew why. What was better to do on his birthday than spend time with his kid?

By the end of the day, even Cas was looking a little tired. Dean was absolutely exhausted. He was half-tempted to drag himself to bed early, but when Jack finally retired to his own room to give Dean and Cas some time together, there wasn’t any hesitation about settling down in his favorite armchair, Cas beside him, with two glasses of Dean’s favorite whiskey to share.

The drink was warming through his limbs, but the light in Cas’ eyes was warmer. He looked content, if not a little overwhelmed by all the love his little family had shown him today. Dean leaned back in his chair and let the peacefulness of the moment wash over him.

“You know, it’s serendipitous Jack chose today for my birthday.” Cas smiled down at his glass.

Dean cracked a sleepy eye open. “Yeah? Why?”

“Well, today is the anniversary of the day I raised you from perdition.”

Dean stared at Cas. Cas eyes twinkled with nostalgia. “Really?” Cas nodded, and Dean laughed. “Well then I suppose it’s really my re-birthday.”

Cas chuckled. “I’ll remind Jack to bake two cakes next year.” They fell into easy silence, nursing their drinks as they reflected on the years.

“It really is a good birth date,” Cas said awhile later. “I may have been alive for eons before then, but the day I met you was when I changed...That was when I really started living.”

Dean’s heart leapt into his throat, Cas’ love confession ringing in his ears. “Didn’t I stab you?” he joked weakly, deflecting the spiraling nerves that bubbled up in his chest.

Cas laughed. “Yes. Yes, you did. I didn’t realize it at the time, but even then you were making me feel. Mostly confusion,” he added with a wry twist of his lips. “I saved you from eternal damnation, and you repaid me by stabbing me in the chest!” Despite his amusement, Cas’ eyes were overflowing with warmth and affection. Dean could almost read the thoughts going on behind them. ‘I fell a little bit in love with you right then.’

“What can I say? I have that effect on people.” ‘Now,’ his thoughts urged. ‘Tell him now!’ “I dunno what I’d have done without you,” Dean mused around a sip of whiskey. A little more liquid courage. A little more and he could do this.

“Another angel would have been sent. You would have been pulled from Hell anyway.”

“Not what I meant, Cas,” Dean said, rolling his eyes. “All of it. All the crap we’ve been through. All the crap Chuck put us through. Put me through.” He watched the way the warm lamplight reflected off his drink. “I...I’m glad I had a best friend through it all. You know?”

“Yes,” Cas said, but there was a twinge of sadness in his voice that made Dean look up. He was smiling softly, but the longing in his eyes was impossible to miss.

Dean sighed. His gut churned with fear and guilt and yearning. He knew Cas loved him. And he knew he loved Cas. Hell, he’d known that for a helluva lot longer than he’d known of Cas’ feelings. He just needed one little push to make him confront those feelings head-on.

“Ya know, I think I have one more present for you.” Dean set his glass down with heavy meaning. He nodded to himself and stood up, his jaw set firm, his eyes determined.

“You do?” Cas started to ask. “What--” And before he could finish his sentence, Dean crawled into the chair with him, his knees straddling Cas’ hips, bracing himself against the backrest with one hand. Cas’ eyes went huge. “Dean?” His voice trembled.

Dean was pretty sure he looked even more nervous, but he’d be damned if he owned up to it. “Hey birthday boy,” he hummed, forcing a flirtatious smile despite the anxiety pounding in his chest. He was going to kiss Cas. God how he wanted to kiss Cas.

But instead of looking delighted Cas looked...hurt. “Dean, you don’t have to do this for me.”

Dean’s heart went cold. “For you? You don’t think I want this?”

“No,” Cas said simply. Honestly. His bright blue eyes were so close now, but the heartache in them was almost painful to look at.

Dean swallowed thickly. “Well then you’re dumber than you look,” he teased, forcing bravado he did not feel. Dean leaned in until his forehead rested against Cas’. He could feel Cas’ warm breath across his lips. “Cas, if I could pick anyone in the whole damn world to be with, it’d be my best friend. You know that, right?” Cas licked his lips. Dean yearned to tilt his head down and catch them with his own. “But I thought you didn’t...Couldn’t...Well, I thought love wasn’t something angels did.”

“But I told you, Dean. When the Empty came, I told you--”

“Yeah I know. But you know how I drag my ass for important stuff.” That finally elicited a tiny puff of laughter from Cas. Dean smiled. “Come on, man. Cut me some slack. Lemme use this as an excuse to nut up and kiss you.”

As it turned out, Dean didn’t need to, because Cas surged up and pressed their lips together.

Dean gasped into the kiss as his hand resettled itself on Cas’ shoulder. Cas’ glass clattered as he hastily set it on the table in order to hold Dean’s waist with both hands. Cas kissed like he was starving for it, voracious and desperate, licking his way into Dean’s mouth without preamble and moaning deeply into the heat he found there.

Dean gave as good as he got, letting over a decade of longing finally escape through the hot, greedy press of their lips together, through the long trailing kisses along Cas’ jaw while Cas dragged his hands down Dean’s back and up underneath his shirt.

“We should...do this in my room…” Dean whispered in Cas’ ear as his teeth nipped at the sensitive area. Cas nodded and, without warning, stood up with Dean still wrapped around him. Dean startled and reflexively jerked his feet down toward the floor, though he realized with delight that Cas could almost certainly carry him the entire way if he wanted. Later. He’d test that out later. For now Dean grabbed Cas by the tie with a lecherous twinkle in his eye and hauled him in the direction of his bedroom. Soon to be their bedroom, if Dean had anything to say about it.

Much, much later, when they were tangled together beneath the sheets with Dean’s head nestled on Cas’ chest, Dean realized that Cas had been wrong. Because his happiest moment wasn’t when the Empty took him away. It wasn’t in just saying how he felt.

Because it was in loving, yes, but it was also in being loved.

Because when Dean peeked up at Cas’ face, he was radiating so much happiness Dean’s heart ached from it. Today was the happiest he’d ever been. And perhaps tomorrow, if Dean had anything to say about it, tomorrow he’d be even happier.

Cas’ eyes were full of love as he carded his fingers through Dean’s hair. “I know I don’t have any others to compare this against, but today was a very good birthday.”

“Good.” Dean pressed a sleepy kiss to Cas’ skin as his eyes drifted closed. “You deserve it.”

#destiel #deancas #destiel fanfiction #deancas fanfiction #supernatural #castiel #happy birthday cas #dadstiel #spn #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #jack kline #dean winchester #katie writes things

[sheron-c]

XiSang Fic Recs

I haven’t seen any rec lists floating about, so for the XiSang Week 2020 challenge - Day 7 - Free choice, I wanted to create a rec list of my personal favourites for Nie Huaisang/Lan Xichen ship. There’s actually a lot of stories that are great and I don’t want to duplicate the entire ship tag, so these are just the top 10 that I found super enjoyable: 1.  My Heart is a Saber by peskyjellyfish (~11k)

Summary: Huaisang is on his way to Xinglu Ridge when he gets sidetracked. Rec: This is the fic that gave me everything I wanted to read about them post-canon. Nie Huaisang is angry and damaged, Lan Xichen is hurt and curious, and they find the kind of hope in despair that can only be found together. 2.  come and find me (lying in the bed i made) by ImaginationCake  @demonic-cultivar​ (~22k)

Summary: After Jin Guangyao dies, Nie Huaisang is ready to enjoy his life free from the burden of revenge plots and subterfuge. But his decisions have resulted in a deep guilt that he can't shake, and he struggles to stay afloat with no one left to support him. To top it off, he finds himself tangled up in politics that he really couldn't care less about.What he does care about is Lan Xichen's opinion of him, but Lan Xichen won't even look at him anymore. Nie Huaisang can only hope that his life doesn't get any worse. Rec: The fic that got me into this ship! ♡ I did of course come to AO3 looking for more NHS & LXC content immediately after watching the Untamed. After seeing that ending scene with their conversation on the Temple’s steps I wanted more, but I wasn’t sure it was a romantic ship for me until I read this story. It’s got everything, a kidnapping, a rescue and a bad case of feelings :D 3.  A Skilled Tactician is the Jewel of a Kingdom by Hypatia3 (~50k, WIP) Summary: During the Sunshot Campaign, Nie Huaisang wants to help despite his terrible sword skills. But there are other things he's good at, and nobody can say his mind is weak. But nobody has to know.After all, he wants to go back to his life of general uselessness after the war is over, and Nie Mingjue would never allow it if he saw a single sign of competence from him.But this has consequences that he didn't expect. Rec: One of the absolute best stories in this fandom when it comes to Nie Huaisang’s characterization -- he’s clever and yet so very Huaisang, in such a believable way that *hands* I can’t explain how much satisfaction I get out of reading and rereading this story. Honourable mention:  A Decisive Victory by Hypatia3 (~24k, WIP) Summary: When Jin Guangyao acts against the Nie Sect a little earlier, Nie Huaisang ends up in over his head as acting sect leader. But he has a responsibility and a duty to his sect. His brother is counting on him until he recovers.Or Nie Huaisang loses his temper, starts a war, and impresses a lot of people along the way. Rec: This is not marked XiSang, and is a divergence from the earlier Tactician story (around chapter 7) but it’s such fun to read and Huaisang’s interactions with Lan Xichen are top notch, so I can’t help mentioning it here.

4.  from tomb to tomb by @the-pretzel​  (~16k)

Summary: It's a lot easier to get truth out of someone, even one with a very good reason to lie, when they're drunk. Or, five times Nie Huaisang was drunk and once it was Lan Xichen's turn instead. Rec: Written to capture moments over the years during the course of the show, as Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang dance around each other, this story is absolutely beautiful and vivid. I can still see the scenes of the story pop up in my head like drawings, of Lan Xichen walking in on semi-hungover Nie Huaisang and the sheer tension between them enough to keep you breathlessly reading.

Honourable mention:  when i'm reborn by @the-pretzel (~1.1k)

Summary:  Nie Huaisang's daemon settles the day he finds out what Jin Guangyao has done. (His Dark Materials fusion) Rec: A very short, very lovely daemon AU, which I’m definitely reading as XiSang :)

5.  What I had to do by @ibijau​ (~20k) Summary:  After three years in seclusion, Lan Xichen gets an unexpected guest he would rather have avoided. Yet when he learns that Nie Huaisang is dying from a curse, he is forced to confront his guilt toward Jin Guangyao's fate and the people his sworn brother hurt. Rec: I’d say this is a fandom classic, so you’ve probably read it already :D But, one of my favourite things about this story is the way it captures Nie Huaisang running away from emotions, and Lan Xichen being selfless when it comes to those he cares about. 6.  gather jewels from graveyards by LuckyDiceKirby (~15k) Summary: Nie Huaisang stole happiness from Lan Xichen. He stole peace. If he could just see him, and see for himself exactly what he’s done, and know—that will be enough. Then he’ll be able to paint again, and his hands won’t shake as he does it, and he’ll remember why he ever in his life bothered to put brush to ink to paper. After all, a man should have to live with his mistakes. There is no other way to learn from them. His brother believed that. Rec: One of the first stories I read for this ship and so well done! This is one where Nie Huaisang feels very guilty, and who doesn’t enjoy reading that? Nie Huaisang comes to the Hanshi to make amends, and doesn’t go away when Lan Xichen won’t see him.

7.  When the world is cold (I will feel a glow) by @marsdiogenes (~3k)

Summary: Xichen is trying very hard to get his crush to notice him, but gallery curator Nie Huaisang has a job to do and would appreciate it if Lan Xichen's beautiful face would stop for a moment so he can focus. Mingjue just wants to have a nice, quiet family dinner and for everyone to respect his efforts.

Rec: I don’t normally go for Modern AUs for this ship, but this was so fun and sexy! Also Nie Mingjue’s knowing reaction is :3 8.  to embrace doubt by fensandmarshes, Fleetling, idendreams, medievalfantasyqueen, space_enjolras, sxnshot (blasphemyincarnate)

Summary: Five times people thought they understood Nie Huaisang + one time someone admitted they didn’t - a collaborative, semi-chronological character study of Nie Huaisang through other characters’ eyes. Rec: Okay, it’s technically not marked shippy, but you tell me that someone who thinks about Nie Huaisang the way Lan Xichen does in this story, in the chapter that’s from his pov can possibly not love him, and I won’t believe it. The lyrical prose is the best description in a paragraph I’ve ever read of Nie Huaisang.

9.  Love of my life, I hate you by Ibijau (~126k) Summary:  With Qishan Wen growing ever more powerful and menacing, QInghe Nie and Gusu Lan decide to cement a firm alliance between their sects through a marriage between their children. Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang are less than thrilled to learn this, but nobody is asking for their opinion anyway Rec: At first, I wasn’t sold on Lan Xichen being so thoughtless in his treatment of Nie Huaisang as a child and mostly wanted to smack him, but damn if the later events don’t make up for it, make him grow up, and turn the tables around. :D This story is utterly satisfying to read, like one of those novels that give your Id everything you want, eventually. I love slow burn and this is that in spades! So much fun, I’ve re-read parts of it multiple times already.

Honourable mention: Ibijau has so many interesting XiSang stories, like the one where Jin Rusong survives and Nie Huaisang ends up raising him (Second Chances For First Time Villains), and the one where Lan Wangji and Nie Huaisang, both in love with someone else, make a marriage match and solve crimes together ( We can light a match and burn it down), the god!LXC AU, and many others. Check them out! And finally,

10.  Chapter 95: LXC finds out about JGY and tells NHS,  from MDZS short fics by nirejseki ( @robininthelabyrinth) (~1k) Summary:  In that AU where LXC pretends to be LWJ and discovers NMJ's head, what if he went on a quest to put the body of his old friend together and along the way accidentally ran into NHS who's on the same mission. And they realize the other knows! Rec: Nirejseki writes a lot of great Nie brothers content, and this is one short story that can arguably turn into XiSang in the future. The possibilities of this AU make it so exciting, I had to include it on the list even though NHS and LXC only talk and nothing else happens.  ...Okay, that was more than ten fics here, but can you blame me? 😍 I love these two together. And with the XiSang week running we have so much new stuff!

#xisangweek2020 #xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #the untamed #mdzs #fic recs #favourite xisang fic recs #watch tumblr eat this post because external links lol #¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[roxannepolice]

Long asks anon again, here to offer my opinion on the current wank. Rey as a character is rather blatantly breaking sw story rules and nothing is going to get SFF fans hackles up like rule breakage. This is root of both the MarySue accusations and current wank. Rey has a tragic backstory thats doubling as the only failure she can call her own. But its a) damn near entirely offscreen and b) serves as convenient justification for why shes competent at near everything that comes up.

Reys instantly good at the force because of a convenient force download that to the best of my knowledge only occured in the noncanon KOTOR II and quite frankly cant blame most of the general audience for not getting because without prior knowledge or the novelizations why would they? She has darkness in her but as so far used and touched it consequence free and its almost entirely symbolically externalized on the Kylo (and in SW symbolism is Real in a way it isnt in other narratives) Shes strong in the force because Light rises to meet Dark but to quote the current crop of movies ‘thats not how the force works) or at least thats never how it worked before. Shes the first SW protagonist to go behind enemy lines and come out with both hands in the second movie. For ppl wondering how come Luke and Ani never get labeled MarySues, this is why, they got thier asses handed to them, Rey hasnt. There /is/ something /off/ in Reys story, and ppl pick up on it. if you can make a post (w/ over 1k notes!) about how great it is that a character meant to prop up 7hrs worth of movies has little to no character development to go through, somethings off. If multiple ppl can make posts about how its neat Rey can tap into the darkside (still characterized as evil in ST) consequence free (with some quite frankly stupid justifications, 'shes disciplined’ really? jedi lacked a lot of things thats not one of them) somethings off and again, if the only failure your main heroine has is /entirely retroactive something’s off/. If the story were getting with the is the story most ppl think we are, a 'female empowerment’ (i dont feel particularly empowered by being told I have an equal chance at being a deus ex machina but ok) than well, her story is over and theres no need for IX (hell it could have been over in TFA, most ppl assumed she had accepted her place as the future jedi in that one) and no need for reylo The ST was always gonna deconstruct all that came before it purely by virtue of being a sequel. The tragedy of anakin skywalker is now a farce, the happy ot ending now a tragedy, and the mythopoetic structure shot to shit in the name of serialization and perpetual warfare. this stand true for all the sequel characters including rey and ben. the only question is are we going to get anything out of it? I compare it to home renovation. You can knock out a wall and the walls gone, but new opportunities arise. With Benlo, I’m reasonably confident that there will be at least some attempt to take advantage of the new space. With rey and the resistance kids? not so much. it just feels like they knocked down a blue wall to rebuild it as pink one and at the point it just feels like a waste of time because ive seen this before. Ive seen pure cinnamon roll desert orphan reform jedi order If this was all youre going to do that the fuck was the point? which circles around to my problem with team good guy this go around and That Scene. JJ twisted the story into a pretzel to justify the winners of the last round being the underdogs again and then rian twisted so much further the storys head may as well be up its own ass. And then at the very end he shoots it all to shit and rushes to reassure us its all gonna be okay. He removes the entire point of the underdog trope /the tension that comes from the fact that they might lose/. I mean there wasnt a whole lot of that to begin with already but really? So theres no tension that Reys gonna win so her journey feels frictionless, and theres no question where shes gonna end up so full offense why give a shit? Thats where the whole 'can rey lose a fight?’ thing comes from. Ppl want conflict in her arc to justify its existence and give us a reason why this her story to begin with. if the only character going through growth for all three movies is ben, if the only characters whos fate is up in the air is ben, and if all the tension in the reylo relationship comes from ben, then why is this /reys story/? why not just make it about the character actually driving all the drama and thus, the story?   As a final thought, im going to add that having Kylo be aware and insecure that hes never gonna be as Iconic as Vader was a great story choice, regardless of where ends up. Current Rebels, on the other hand, seems to have not gotten the memo that they are never gonna be as iconic as Original Rebels, and the story itself seems to being trying to sell them to me as being better. Rey is Luke but better, Poe/Finn are Han wo the smuggler grit, and id be lying if i said it didnt piss me off.

&

Long asks anon to kick down ur door again, AND ANOTHER THING. SW is a lotta things. Subtle aint one of them, and St hasnt changed in that regard. If you have to debate it chances are either a) ur arguing counter to the text in which case mor power to you but not really helpful for predictions or intended meaning or b) /it aint there. A bunch of ppl didnt like anidala, but nobody doubted we were supposed to think they were in love by the end of AOTC, bunch of ppl didnt like poes arc, but no one doubts he fucked up by not listening to holdo was the intended take away. Which brings to rey and flaws or lack there of. Were told rey has flaws but she has yet to suffer any real consequences from them with the exception of The Damn Parentage Wank, which again, pulls the double duty of making her hyper competent at everything. Because rey has no consequences for her flaws, from a story function pov there aren’t any. If rey did have a flaw to overcome, we would all agree what it was

Now won’t you all just look at this beautiful, spot on rant which has been lagging in my askbox since the last time Rey’s flaws or lack thereof were the discourse’s focus (November, I believe?) and suddenly became a thing again, courtesy of Tweetgate. I think you really summed up the crux of this debate wonderfully, anon.

I particularly agree with the part about Rey not getting narratively punished for whatever flaws we’d like her to have (great point about returning from behind the enemy lines with both arms still in place), when SW don’t stay away from allowing characters to get “punished” even for otherwise applaudable features - vide Padmé, whose idealism is what Palps manipulates into gaining more power (this is why Padmé will never come off as a Mary Sue or too perfect, btw). But I’ll say even more - Rey doesn’t even get called out on her flaws, except for by Ben, who’s mostly dismissed as a baddie like Palpatine saying Luke was foolish to rely on his friends. Let’s just consider one thing - both Anakin and Luke get called out on their flaws by Yoda (Anakin repeatedly and by lots of other people for that matter) whereas with Rey, the same grumpy-yet-jolly senex pops up from the afterlife to further inform us what a great jedi material she is.

TBH, I have a very cynical theory as to why Rey is being pushed as the main character while it’s difficult to deny that it’s Kylo Ben who does all the plot heavy lifting. I’m pretty sure Ben’s arc was the first one DLF thought out (and the big question is, was it the only one they thought out) and only later on decided to make Rey the main character, which also involved much less spontaneous writing. Mind you, it’s not as if benepemption didn’t have a manufactured subtaste to it, but with Rey’s heroine’s journey stiff structure occasionally substitutes any in-world explanations of her actions (this is why I have to hope renperor has some narrative purpose rather than happening because lovers need to be separated and anti-hero needs to achieve what he wanted in 2nd act). I feel as if whatever potential her character had (and hopefully still has, pending IX) got smothered by layer upon layer of making her likable by everyone, which largely relied on negative characterization: she’s not helpless, she’s not too naive, not cynical, not too emotional, not too emotionless, not morally corruptible, not anything you’ve ever complained about regarding any SW character, not falling for the bad boy, not not not - and in the end it’s kinda difficult to say what Rey is like and while the goal of making her widely likable was achieved, it also made it almost impossible to view her as loveably flawed/annoying like the classic characters. And on top of all this is the matter of making her a nobody just like you!, as DLF appears to say with uncle Sam’s gesture (which also kinda assumes the existence of a Star Wars fan as some uniform entity? because if you identify with her, good for you, I just don’t understand why the franchise assumes I’ll identify with her by the grace of being a SW fan alone), because, as you excellently put it, the message here is that everyone can be chosen by God - which again, it’s not as if the saga ever contradicted this, so why the hell make a case of it? I can’t agree that it’s made into Rey’s flaw, though, imo her low birth only serves to further frame her as an oppressed virtue. And I definitely agree regarding too much of her growth being left off-screen, or before the story ever begins. The problem here isn’t even that it is left off-screen (it’s not as if we had huge insight into any of the pt or ot characters) but rather that her characterizations is left off-screen while being depicted as at least untypical (unique to put it bluntly) for her situation (same goes for Finn). A hopeful, kind person growing up on her on her own in slavery under a nicer name is a rarity and DLF makes a case for it being a rarity - and this sparks up curiosity in her past, as if market pandering to Re/sky wasn’t enough. So from this pov her un-reveal being frustrating isn’t just a case of not wanting to love her or her self only a potentially deeper psychological question getting answered with well, light.

I should add, Ben’s arc feels like the most spontaneous one (though Finn’s may yet be a masterpiece) and he��s the one to admit his fear of not living up to Vader’s legacy, because I think he’s the character serving as the creators’ vessel, more or less like Luke was Lucas’ avatar in ot. In his fear regarding Vader’s legacy one can feel Disney’s fear due to having bought popculture’s holy grail and not being entirely sure what to do with it. On this background, Rey (a literal scavenger of OT’s pieces) and rebels 2.0 repeatedly blessed by Leia come off as what DLF would want to be. And the result is that the character which was supposed to be Vader 2.0 proves the most original and surprising one, whereas “breaths of fresh air” come off as room aromatizers with “fresh” written on them.

And as far as the plot being bended into a pretzel and then disappearing up it’s own ass, well, a part of me is still hoping that taking virtually the same villains as before is a mythological-psychoanalitical metaphor of a nigredo repeating itself until the unconscious gets accepted by the conscious…. but, tbh, as the leaks flow this hope is withering.

#asks #cleaning up the askbox #long asks anon #sw negativity #let rey free from the corset disney

[caslikescoffeeandfreckles]

hello this is my extremely, pathetically, ridiculously late birthday offering to the wonderful @wanderingcas. I love you Sam and hope you had a great birthday!

Summary: A game of truth or dare brings up some old memories and a lot of buried feelings for Dean and Cas Word count: 3k Read on Ao3

It's just a small get-together a few weeks before graduation.

Dean makes himself at home in Charlie’s kitchen, pilfering through her cabinets and setting out snacks. He hears the front door open and the living room is suddenly loud with too many voices. He opens another beer and takes a long pull.

“If you get drunk before we even get the games out, Charlie will kill you,” Jo teases as she breezes toward the fridge and puts her six-pack inside.

“It’s only my third,” Dean promises. “We have a long way before we reach Twister levels of destruction.”

“For your sake, I hope you’re right because if you fall on me again, I’m slashing one of your tires.”

Dean gasps, horrified, and brings a hand to his chest. “You wouldn’t dare harm my baby.”

“You bruised my tailbone!” Jo cries and Dean almost grins remembering how he hadn’t been pulled out that mess of limbs in much better condition.

“i really think you need to stop living in the past, Jo, and move on-” He cuts off into a laugh when Jo punches him and dashes back out into the party area.

Another few people arrive and Dean leans into the counter with a handful of pretzels, feeling heavier as he listens to his friends chat. He just hasn’t been able to shake this exhaustion and part of him longs to just be at home in his bed. He’s not sure if it’s the looming threat of finals or what that’s holding him back, but he knows for sure that this is one of the last times he’ll have to see all of his favorite people before they get their degrees and walk off in different directions. So he wouldn’t miss it for the world.

“Okay!” he hears Charlie shout from the next room. “Put that away and then everyone get ready for some Trivial Pursuit!”

There’s a chorus of groans that follow and Dean joins in and brings his beer to his mouth. If they’re starting with that shit he’s going to need to drink faster to survive.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean coughs and nearly chokes when he hears the deep voice. He sets the beer down and wipes at his face, trying to recover as smoothly as possible.

“H-hey, Cas.”

Cas stares at him a little concerned before his lips curve in a soft smile. “Hiding in the kitchen again?”

“I, uh, I put myself on snack duty,” he replies and flinches when he feels the crushed pretzels in his fist. Cas notices and Dean’s immediate reaction is to unclench his hand and a few crumbs start to fall on the floor and flails for a moment, no idea what to do from here.

Finally, he just chucks it all in the trashcan next to Cas and dusts his hands off, avoiding all eye contact.

The silence that follows is awkward to he point of being painful and Dean briefly considers just throwing himself in the trashcan for a moment of mercy.

Cas makes a small noise. “Well... I just, um.” He lifts the back in his hand. “I’m just gonna put this in the fridge.”

“Oh, yeah, go ahead,” Dean says and nearly slaps himself because this isn’t his fucking house.

Cas puts his things away and inches toward the door. “Guess I should... get back to everyone else.”

“Yeah,” Dean says a little too quickly and he registers the way Cas kinda flinches. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll, uh, be there soon.”

Cas hesitates just a moment before fleeing the room and Dean shoves his hands through his hair, tries to release a slow breath and tell himself that everything is going to be okay.

He catches a glimpse of his beer bottle and sighs. Everything is going to be okay.

But he’s gonna need to switch to the hard stuff.

Whiskey carries him through a downright hostile game of Trivial Pursuit because — as they’ve told Charlie a million times — nobody fucking likes Trivial Pursuit.

After that massacre they transition to Taboo and a game of Kings. At this point everyone has a nice buzz going and the shouting is more playful and nearly drowned out by fits of laughter. Everything is loud and obnoxious and happy and Dean sinks into the couch with a pleased grin.

He catches sight of Cas a few times from across the room. He’s pressed up against Hannah and Dean tries to ignore the nauseous curls of jealousy in his stomach. Cas never looks back at him.

The night starts to wind down and Charlie suggests a dread classic: truth or dare. Everyone groans again.

“It’s either that or more Trivial Pursuit, bitches,” Charlie threatens and they shut up real fast.

The thing about playing truth or dare with people you’ve known for four years is that there aren’t many things you haven’t shared with them either through previous games, late night heart-to-hearts, or drunken rambling. So the game primarily becomes a list of petty dares, like making Benny shave half of his beard, or making Charlie record a video of her saying that Star Wars is better than Star Trek which just about makes her scream and in retribution Dorothy has to post a selfie in a full face of makeup.

They go round a few times and it comes back to Dean. He’s already been forced to perform a One Direction song and he had to take a photo in shorts. The whiskey is sitting in him pretty heavily and he isn’t too keen on moving anymore so he just blinks and slurs, “Truth.”

Victor grins like a proud hyena. “What is the most orgasms you’ve ever given someone?”

The room explodes in snickers and lecherous smiles while Dean chokes on air. “Dude! I’m not gonna tell you that!”

“You have to answer, Dean,” Garth sings.

“That’s the rule,” Jo says and the rest of the room hums in agreement.

Dean fidgets in his seat as the right night comes to mind and his body feels hot just remembering it. He keeps his eyes on the floor because if he looks up and sees ±god, he’s gonna have a heart attack.

“Dean, come on!”

He swallows. “Five.”

“Damn!”

“You’re lying!”

“There’s no way that’s true,” Jo says, “or else we would have known because you wouldn’t have been able to keep your big mouth shut about it.”

“I, for one, am extremely proud of you and honored to call you friend,” Charlie said and hits her chest with her fist.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Whose next?”

“Oh no, no, no, hold up,” Victor says through his laughter. “We need to know who the lucky person was!”

“That’s not how the game works; you get one question.”

“Ah come on, Dean,” Dorothy whines and hits his legs. “Tell us who it was!”

“Yeah, I’m dying to know who had the pleasure of being satisfied by the great Dean Winchester so thoroughly,” Charlie says with an almost purr that in any other situation would have had Dean falling over backwards laughing. But now it just makes him feel sick.

“I can’t-”

“Was is Lisa?” Benny asks.

“No.”

“Or Aaron?” Garth wonders.

“Guys, no, it doesn’t-”

“I bet it was Anna,” Dorothy whispers conspiratorially to Charlie.

Dean stares at the floor helpless and feeling sicker with each name thrown out because this is all sorts of wrong, but he absolutely can’t let himself look up. If he does he knows exactly what he’ll see and he can’t-

But he does.

And looks directly into blue eyes.

“Oh my god, it was Cas!”

His gaze snaps to Charlie whose practically jumping up and down, grin threatening to split her face and she pointing between Dean and Cas.

Their friends dissolve into hysterics and Cas bows his head, hiding his face, while Dean sits there horrified and sober in an instant.

“I can’t fucking believe this,” Charlie giggles. “And that neither of you ever said anything!”

Cas looks up then and his face is unreadable. “Dean and I agreed that our sex life was none of your business,” he says and his voice is so calm it’s terrifying.

“But friends tell friends when friends make them cum five times,” Jo says and sounds genuinely outraged at having been kept from this information. Right before falling into another fit of laughter.

“Five times,” Victor gasps, catching his breath. “That’s impressive.”

“Yeah, Cas, I can’t believe you’d let him go after that,” Dorothy jokes and reaches for her drink.

“Cas didn’t let him go.”

The voice is quiet and takes everyone a minute to calm down but then all eyes turn to Hannah.

“What?” Dorothy asks.

Hannah sips from her glass and licks the liquor from her lips. “You said you couldn’t believe that Cas let him go.”

“Hannah,” Cas says softly. A plead.

“But Dean is the one who dumped Cas.”

The words settle in the middle of the room and its like all the joy and easiness that had been there just moments ago was pushed out. Vanished.

Dean stares at the carpet like it holds the answer to turn back time five minutes and prevent this conversation from ever happening. Or maybe it could go back two years, five months, and sixteen days. Before Dean fucked everything up.

“Cas, man,” Benny starts, his voice as soft as Dean’s ever heard it. “Hey, we didn’t mean to-”

“It fine,” Cas says, still sounding calm but distant. “I think it’s time for me to go.”

Dean hears Cas stand and he doesn’t dare move. There a soft murmur of voices and then the front door opens and closes and the room is still.

“Dean?” Charlie asks and he feels a gentle hand on his knee.

He swallows and doesn’t look at her. “I think I need to go too.”

He practically runs out of the house and sucks in a few deep breaths. The sun is long gone and the air is cool and he lets it bite at his skin for a minute before pulling on his jacket and starting to walk.

He wants to be angry — angry at Victor for asking that damn question, angry with his friends for goading him, angry at himself for even answering and signaling out Cas like that.

Cas. Goddammit.

As if Dean hadn’t hurt him enough, he then had to humiliate him in front of all of their friends — the people who were the entire reason he and Dean had agreed to stay friends after everything ended.

That had probably been the hardest decision of Dean’s life, a painful and long transition to go from loving someone one day to still loving them the next but not being able to kiss them or touch them or really even look at them without feeling your chest cave in.

Dean kicks at a rock and breathes out. What’s done is done.

He nears the end of the street and makes out a figure leaning against the light post. They have their head bowed and Dean makes to cross for the other side of the road. But as he gets closer he can make out their frame better and he stops.

“Cas?”

The figure startles and turns, Cas’s face coming into the light and he looks like an angel.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean’s heart gives a sharp kick. “What are you doing?”

Cas’s eyes wander for a moment and then return to Dean and he shrugs. “I don’t know.”

Dean takes a moment to steel himself and walks closer. Cas doesn’t move but his eyes track Dean until they’re just a foot apart.

“Look, Cas, I’m sorry about tonight. I never meant to put our business out like that.”

Cas offers a half smile. “It’s fine. I know it wasn’t your fault.”

It’s an out but Dean can’t take it. “I could have lied or something.”

“Dean, it’s fine,” Cas repeats. “It was just a game.” He tilts his head back, looking into the light and he looks so soft and beautiful and Dean wants to touch him everywhere. He sighs and looks at Dean again. “I need to get home. Have a good night.”

Cas... walks away. With the ghost of a smile. He turns his back and walks ahead and Dean feels each step echo in his chest.

This could be the last time. It could be the last time that they ever see each other.

His last memory of Cas can’t be him walking away. Can’t be that smile.

“Cas, wait!”

Dean runs after him and Cas turns back with a tired expression. “Dean, please-”

“Truth or dare?”

Cas blinks. “What?”

“Truth or dare?” Dean repeats.

“I don’t understand, Dean, what are you-?”

“Cas,” Dean pleads. “Truth or dare?”

Cas tilts his head and regards Dean carefully before slowly answering, “Truth.”

“Do you hate me?”

“Dean!” Cas cries, sounding shocked.

“Please just answer the question.”

“I-I” Cas stutters and looks around uncomfortably. “No,” he finally says, shaking his head. “I don’t hate you.”

Dean accepts the answer with a nod, trusting Cas’s word. “Okay ask me.”

“Ask you what?”

“Truth or dare.”

Cas scowls. “You can’t be serious.” Dean just looking at him and Cas breathes out sharply through his nose. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Dean says immediately.

“Why are you doing this?” Cas asks and looks Dean in the eye with a challenge.

Dean swallows roughly. “Because we haven’t talked in over two years and it’s been killing me and I don’t want this to be the last time we see each other.” Deans says it all at once until he’s breathless. Cas just blinks. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Cas says, folding his arms over his chest, and Dean knows he’s just trying to be difficult but he goes along with it.

“Then I dare you to tell me one thing that’s happened to you in the last two years that I don’t know about.”

Cas shakes his head, looking irritated. “I don’t know, Dean. I... My mom’s in remission.”

Dean feels his heart flip and he grins. “What? Really? Since when?”

“About seven months ago. She still has a while before they deem her cured, but she hasn’t had treatments in a while and she’s feeling a lot better.”

“God, Cas that- that’s amazing. I’m so happy for you. W-why didn’t you tell me?”

Cas frowns at him. “Because we weren’t talking, Dean.”

“But you had to know that I would always be there for you. We used to be best friends.”

“And then you broke my heart,” Cas says coldly and matter-of-factly. “So I apologize if I didn’t feel comfortable confiding in you anymore, but that’s what happens when you blindside someone and crush them, Dean.”

Dean’s face stings as if he’s been slapped. “I know, Cas. I know I hurt you but you gotta know I never meant to. You were everything to me.”

You still are.

“Then why did you break up with me?” Cas asks and some of the edge to his tone is gone, replaced with a deafening vulnerability Dean isn’t sure that he’s ready for. “I know we’re young and relationships end all the time but I thought... I thought we were different. I thought you were the one. And you made me feel like an idiot.”

“Cas,” Dean breathes and tries to reach out but Cas twists away. “I didn’t- you weren’t...” He’s had this conversation with himself about a thousand times but he still doesn’t know how to respond. Why did I ruin the one thing that made me happy? is there even a good answer to a question like this?

“I was terrified.” The words fall from his mouth without thought. “Because I thought you were the one too. But no one meets the love of their life at nineteen.”

“I did.” Cas says it with so much conviction it’s startling and all Dean can do is gape for a moment.

He looks down in shame. “I didn’t have that confidence, Cas. I knew it was going to end one day, that you would leave me when you realized... I thought if we kept going it was just going hurt worse when it finally did end.”

Cas stares at him, his face unreadable. “So you left me because you thought I was going to leave you?”

Dean doesn’t trust himself to speak just yet so he just nods.

“And you didn’t think to talk to me about it first?”

Dean shakes his head and unclenches his fists helplessly. “You know me, Cas. What could you have said that you honestly think I would have believed?”

Cas doesn’t say anything and just looks away.

They stand there for several long seconds in the glow of the light post, neither making a sound other than to breathe.

“Truth or dare?”

Dean looks up. Cas still isn’t facing him. “I think it’s technically my turn.”

“Just answer the damn question, Dean.”

“Truth.”

“Do you regret it?” Cas turns then and he looks scared and braced for a blow.

Dean feels his heart stutter. “Every day for two years, five months, and sixteen days.”

He watches the fear in Cas’s eyes turn to wonderment and he can see a soft blush high on his cheeks.

“Truth or dare?” Dean asks.

“Truth.”

“Do you think we could... could we ever- I mean, I know I don’t deserve it, but is there a chance-”

Cas steps forward and presses a finger to Dean’s lips. He’s so close it takes the wind out of Dean and he doesn’t dare move, just stares into the blue eyes he’s missed so much.

“Yes,” Cas says softly. “There’s a chance.”

Nothing changes immediately. They take their time getting to know each other again and building the trust they need to make it work.

The day of their graduation, they share their first kiss in two years, six months, and seven days. Every touch to follow is slow and calculated but desperate and revered.

Things pick up gradually as more time passes until it’s like no time has passed at all and you’re lucky to catch one without the other.

Its at two years, nine months, and twenty days when Dean suggests they try to break their record. And Cas blushes and says it’s impossible even as his eyes light up and he licks his lips.

Dean leans in and kisses him, long and deep, pulling away to nibble down his jaw until he can whisper in his ear that if anyone has a chance, it’s them.

#destiel #destiel fic #wanderingcas #au #college au #post break up #getting back together #angst #angst with a happy ending

[trashfics]

Foxgloves ://: Chapter 2

Summary: Y/N was content living a normal life. Well, as normal as her life could be with the power to stun and cause death (in extreme conditions) with just a touch of her hand. Let’s just say gloves are a girl’s best friend, not diamonds. When the Winter Soldier surfaced, she was called in by Director Nick Fury to assist Captain America in fighting against a corrupt SHIELD. To the world, she is known as Foxgloves, the girl with poisons touch. To her team, she’s a mystery, coming out of nowhere, with her amazing combat skills and poisonous touch, to be recruited into their little group of super humans. Nobody knew of her origin, until Helmut Zemo’s plans consist of more than exposing the Winter Soldier as Howard and Martha Stark’s killer. Warnings: Mild cursing, CA: Civil War Spoilers, Mentions of Human Experimentation, A Little Bit of Fluff. A/N: Second chapter, woo! Feedback is always welcome! (F/I/C = Favourite ice cream) Word Count: 2,500k+ Last Chapter: [X] {I lean against him, giving some comfort, and pull his phone out. Unlocking it, I pull up the latest text that reads “She’s gone. In her sleep.”}

After consoling Steve about the passing of his first love, I go back to my room and take a nice, warm shower to calm my mind. All the ‘what if’s’ were flowing in and out at 100 mph, causing the bubbling of a headache. Sighing, I put on some calming music and allow my brain to whisk me away from reality.

Flashback.

I awake to the sound of someone entering my cell. I hear a man’s rough voice speaking in a foreign language, Russian maybe.  The feeling of a heavily calloused hand startles me, causing my body to jerk away. The man grunts something out, pulling me to my feet and leading me out of isolation. I hear the crying and screaming of various people, kids to adults, as I walk through a slim hallway. Glancing into the cell closest to me, I see a boy around my age with eyes and patches of skin like a snake. In another, I see a woman, maybe in her 30’s, with pitch black wing protruding from her back, caked in dry blood.

A shiver runs down my spine as we stop at a heavily guarded door. Nausea floods my body and my senses are in overdrive. The man who brought me here types in a code, causing the metal doors to open. He shoves me in, his grip on my arm bruising. Bringing me up to a medical bed, he stops and commands me to lay down. I follow his orders, not wanting to be beaten, and climb onto the stiff mattress. An IV is stuck into my arm and I fall unconscious.

Flashback Ends.

A single tear falls down my cheek. I breath in a ragged breath as I turn the water off. I absolutely hated re-living those memories. The ones that remind me about how I gained my ‘powers’. Wrapping a towel around myself, I walk into my room and change into the classic ‘I’m not a superhero’ outfit, which consists of a baseball cap, sunglasses, a random t-shirt, jeans, a jacket, sneakers, and a pair of faux leather gloves. Taking the lift down to the lobby, I inform F.R.I.D.A.Y that I was going out. “If anyone ask where I am, please tell them at the park a few blocks away.”

Walking out of the lavish building, I start on my trek to the small park that grants me peace of mind. I first stumbled upon when I first started living in the tower. Being knew to New York and all, I was lost and walking aimlessly around. I was looking for a café or some quiet place to eat, but I ended up at a small park. This park had a calming aura about it, with its little pretzel stand and playground, crawling with children and parents alike. I sit down on a bench and look up at the sky. The sun was starting to set so the clouds were full of pinks, oranges, and lavenders.

A soft smile graces my lips as I hear the familiar ringing of the ice cream cart that comes around during the afternoons, allowing children to get a treat before returning home. I get up and walk towards the old man wearing a light blue button up and white apron. Looking up, he smiles noticing my presence. “Y/N, it’s nice to see you again.” he says making his way over to hug me.

Charles was the lovely ice cream peddler who help me find my way back to the tower after getting lost. After I started to frequent the park, we started talking and getting to know each other. I learned that his wife had passed a few years ago, leaving him with their aging basset hound, Duke. Sometimes Duke accompanies his owner, enjoying the attention he gets from the small children. In all honesty, Charles is like the grandfather I never had. I love hearing his stories about his childhood, the ups and downs.

“I haven’t seen you in a while, was startin’ to think you forgot about lil’ old me.” I chuckle lightly, rubbing the back of my neck. “Sorry about that, work has been hectic lately.” He looks up at me, giving me a knowing smile. “I know, saw what had happened in Lagos on the news.”

Charles found out I was an Avenger shortly after I was injured after a mission and walked with a limp for a few weeks. He gave me advice on how to heal properly and took care of me, making sure I didn’t strain myself. He hands me a cone of F/I/C, turning to serve the next customer. After talking for a little, I leave with a promise to visit Duke and him soon and start on my way back to the tower.

Once I get back, I change into one of Sam’s shirt that I stole during laundry day and a pair of cotton shorts. Entering the living room, I find Sam and Steve sitting on one of the couches. “Hey boys, what’s got you two up so late?” I ask, propping myself up on the arm of the couch.

“We were just talking about what has happened in the past few days.” Steve said, sadness clear in his voice. “We were also talking about Peggy’s funeral, it’s the same day as the signing of the Accord.” Sam informs me, causing Steve to sigh. “Please don’t bring the Accords up, I just don’t like the idea of being monitored and told what we can and can’t do.”

I nod in agreement, getting up to get water from the kitchen. “Hey, is that my shirt?” I hear Sam call after me, causing me to giggle as I grab one of the water bottles from the fridge. “It was your shirt, but now it’s mine.” I say as I walk back in, a smirk playing on my lips. “Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Stark requests your presence in the lab.” I groan, rolling my eyes and telling F.R.I.D.A.Y that I’ll be down in a few minutes. After what happened earlier I don’t know if I should be relived or worried that Tony wants to talk.

Walking towards the lift, I am stopped by a hand on my shoulder. Turning around, I am met with Steve looking down at me. “I know you didn’t know Peggy for that long, but would you be willing to accompany Sam and I to London? If you’re not going to Vienna of course.” I sigh, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’ll get back to you on that Stevie, okay?” I reach out to pat his arm, pausing once I realize my mistake. “Sorry.” I mumble turning around and darting towards the lift, going down to the lab.

The bell chimes, signaling I have reached my destiantion. Sighing, I run my hand down my face, re-living the events of what happened that last time I was down here. Let’s just say it ended with a small explosion of one of Tony’s creations, due to me kicking it around as I spoke to him about a new tactical glove design.  ‘It’s not my fault that it looked like a soccer ball…’ I think as I walk up to the glass doors, knocking lightly. Tony perks up and signals for the doors to open.

Walking in, I am greeted with the sight of various contraptions and experiment. It seemed a little lonely too, seeing as Bruce is still MIA. “Hey Stark, what’s up?” I say, leaning against one of the silver tables. He turns to me, a screwdriver in hand. “I wanted to talk about what happened earlier.” I raise an eyebrow, gesturing for him to go on. ‘This is rare, he usually never apologizes.’

“Y/N, let me just start off by saying, you know I wouldn’t have went to such extreme measures if I didn’t think we needed to be put back in our place. The body count is way too high, the blood we’ve shed is limitless. Hell, we’ve destroyed a whole country!” he pauses, noticing his harsh tone and taking in a shallow breath before beginning again. “The Avengers are supposed to protect the world, not kill it. New York, Sokovia, anywhere we’ve had a major fight, was left with devastation and destruction and I don’t know if I can keep going on with that anymore.” His brown eyes look distraught, the dark circles underneath a deep purple.

When Tony is stressed out, he locks himself in the lab for days at a time. He does anything he can to take his mind off whatever is troubling him using methods varying from liquor to sleep deprivation. Honestly, it hurts me to see him like this. Sure, he can be quite the jerk, but he does what he thinks will be best for everyone, even if it comes with consequences. 

Finding a pair of gloves lying on the table, I put them on and pull him into a hug. I can see where he’s coming from, hell, I was there when Sokovia went down. I saw all the people lying dead and injured in the streets, they’re faces still haunt me to this day. “Tony, when was the last time you got more than 30 minutes of sleep?” I murmur into his ear.

He chuckles, pulling away and asks “Would you be mad if I said I don’t remember?” Smiling softly, I walk over to one of the cabinets and pull out a pillow and blanket. Sitting on top of one of the empty table, I pat the space next to me, signaling for him to lay down. He shakes his head, as he lounges on his side, placing his head on my lap. I lay the blanket on him and run my fingers through his hair, causing him to relax.

“I’m not going to the signing in Vienna,” I start, sighing and glancing down at him, seeing him mumble that he knows. “I’ll be in London with Steve and Sam; Peggy’s funeral is the same day.” I pause, noticing his eyes start to droop. “You know I’m always a phone call away and always up to talk. Let me know how it goes, okay? And if there’s anything you need me to pick up, an ‘I love London’ shirt maybe.” I smile as he begins nodding off. He pulls the blanket tighter around him and I get up, maneuvering his head onto the pillow. Before I leave, I place a chaste kiss on his forehead. Somehow, I always end up looking after Starks.

A few days later, it’s absolute chaos. Apparently, a bomb went off during the signing in Vienna, injuring and killing many. After getting a call from Natasha, I bombarded her with questions about her well-being first and then she briefs me on what went down, Sam and I race to the hotel that Sharon, Peggy’s niece was staying at. Once explaining what we know so far in the elevator, we head to Sharon’s room, watching the news feed.

“A bomb hidden in a news van ripped through the UN building in Vienna. More than 70 people have been injured. At least 12 are dead, including Wakanda’s King T’Chaka.” I grimace, watching the aftermath as Sharon tries to find out more about what happened. “Officials have released a video of a suspect who they have identified as James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier.” I sucked in a harsh breath at the mention of that name. Glancing over at Steve, his features are like stone. “The infamous HYDRA agent linked to numerous acts of terrorism and political assassinations.” Sharon, who’s finally off the phone, walks up next to Steve. “I have to go to work.”

We make our way to Bucharest, with the help of a certain blonde agent. This is where James has most likely been hiding out, somewhere lowkey, a country that nobody would bother thinking of housing the infamous ex-sniper. Steve and I walk into his flat, dressed in our combat suits with Sam watching from the sky. It’s small, with a mattress lying on the floor and worn couch resting against the kitchen island. It feels homey, to say the least.

Steve finds a notebook on top of the fridge and starts snooping, while I look around. Sam comes in of the radio, “Heads up, guys. German Special Forces, approaching from the south.” Making my way back into the living area from the bathroom, I pause. Standing there in a black baseball cap and red Henley is no other than Bucky Barnes, trust me, those baby blue eyes are permanently etched into my memory. “Steve,” I start, my voice soft as James looks at me. A flash of recognition crosses his features, it fading away as quickly as it came. “We have company.”

Steve turns around, the floor boards under him creaking. Looking over his estranged best friend, he sighs. “Do you know me?” There’s a moment of silence before James replies. “You’re Steve.” His hair is longer, well kept, I note mentally. I like it. “I read about you in a museum.”

I walk towards the door, getting ready for an attack and Sam warns that the GSF are here. “And you,” I turn my head, looking towards the face of a haunted man, “’You’re Y/N,” my eyes widen, ‘Does he remember?’ I think, “I saw you in the newspaper.” I nod, kind of sad but relieved at the same time. Nobody needs to know how I know the Winter Soldier.

“I know you’re nervous, and you have plenty of reason to be.” Steve pauses, placing the notebook down. “But you’re lying.” Sensing the people coming up the stairs, I inch closer towards the door leading to the stairwell.

“I wasn’t in Vienna. I don’t do that anymore.” Sounds his gravelly voice, the voice that I’ve come to miss. Him and Steve talk some more, Steve warning him of the upcoming fight. Sam chimes in briefly, “They’re entering the building.” I get ready, tucking myself into the little corridor that leads to the bathroom. “They’re on the roof, I’m compromised.” ‘Well, fuck.’ I think, checking to make sure everything is loaded and in their proper places.

“It always ends in a fight.” Sighs James, pulling the glove off his left hand, the silver plates shining. “You pulled me from the river. Why?” Questions Steve, James looking up at him and saying “I don’t know.” “Three seconds.” Warns Sam as I get ready by the door. “Yes, you do.” “Steve, this really isn’t the time for an interrogation.” I mumble, causing James to look over at my crouching figure.

“Breach! Breach! Breach!” announces Sam as a smoke bomb is thrown inside. Steve reacts immediately, covering it with his shield. I hear shouting in German, as a bullet breaks through the wall, which James stops with the mattress, while the door is pounded on. A table is thrown as two of the windows are kicked in, James coming face to face with one of the soldiers. Steve pulls the carpet out from under the other one, causing him to shoot wildly at the ceiling. The door to the balcony is opened, Steve grabbing the soldier’s gun and turning it away, while James kicks him in the chest.

“Buck! Stop! You’re gonna kill someone.” I hear Steve shout as he’s knocked down. James breaks the flooring next to the blonde’s head, pulling out a military style backpack. “I’m not gonna kill anyone.”

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