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#seriously another lane will NOT fix the problem
toaster-boi · 1 year
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oh boy, i sure do love highway traffic! <- constantly experiencing a seething hatred of the Texas DOT
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antipolin · 2 months
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I have seen the most delusion idiot on the Polin sub on Reddit. This individual is claiming that after giving up painting at the end of season 2 it will be Colin marrying Penelope that will have Benedict opening up his paintbox to paint Colin a portrait of Penelope before they marry. This is after seeing some deranged Penelope Stan on twitter claiming that Penelope is 'literally Cinderella'.
The Polins are seriously deranged now, they seem to think that precious little Penelope is going to come into the Bridgerton family and fix all the ills, everyone will love her and welcome her and it will solve all their problems. I mean the delusion and derangement with them is real.
It is really reading desperation now, it is like they are getting so worried about their season (as they should be) they are wanting everything to be crammed into Polin and Polin to be everything to everybody. It is insane.
I mean they can't come up with any original things they want to have happened, they want to basically repeat most of Kate and Anthony's scenes for their couple (the flashbacks of Edmunds death, the dance, the two proposals, Colin being jealous while Penelope is with another man - to be fair that will probably happen - Lady Danbury being the biggest part of their story etc), I think there were some scenes from season 1 they wanted to be redone for Polin as well.
The only good thing is that they will most likely be disappointed as they have built their expectations so high, they don't get that the overselling of Polin is most likely because it isn't that great. I mean the two clips we have seen so far of them have been pretty average at best, yet the Kate and Anthony clip has gone viral, and been picked up by a lot more publications to be reposted, and some have reposted more than once as well. The only major player that hasn't shared the Kate and Anthony clip (excluding the actors) is Tom Verica, despite him sharing the two Polin clips, but I have a theory on why Tom Verica shares very little about season 2, and why he shares no pictures or clips from that season, (and it is nothing to do with Simone).
Yeah, I saw that person claiming that she's Cinderella as well and everyone ratioed them b/c that's Sophie. They claimed they've never read the books and are 'show only' but honestly, that excuse doesn't fly really when even non book viewers of the show know who Sophie is, knows her story and that she's the Cinderella of the Bridgerton verse. The fandom talks about her enough that even if you don't know her from the books, you still know her story.
They've also apparently decided that the masquerade ball should be their thing now too and I'm like.... They really don't have anything that special on their own that they gotta take from Benophie? Like I thought the mirror and carriage scenes were SO special for them why do they need to take another thing from Benophie?
They already stole their season, now they're trying to take everything else from them too and I'm not happy about it. They need to stay in their lane and shut up.
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popopretty · 3 years
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Storm Bringer Spoilers (4)
Another part from CODE;04, before the final battle, where I think Dazai actually showed some genuine concerns for Chuuya. It is interesting to read. I generally enjoy it when Dazai acts more human like this.
Feel free to re-translate it if you want. Just remember that I am not fluent in either English or Japanese and there might be mistakes here and there.
...
Deeper into the night. The destruction’s footstep is approaching the city.
The entrance of the highway on the outskirt of the city was crushed by the Demonic Beast Guivre. The bridge that supports the road, the direction signs, the median strips in the middle, all crushed in an instant. It happened so fast that hardly any sound was made. The passing vehicles witnessed that. They ignored the lane and turned around to run away. The Demon Beast turned towards them and spat out gravity lines. All the vehicles disappeared without a trace. Together with their entire surroundings.
Chuuya and Dazai gazed at the Demon Beast Guivre that was approaching them like that. 
The place they were standing was on top of a large spherical gas storage tank. That was a tank set up in the suburbs to store gas for the city. Its top workbench is even higher than the skyscrapers around the area. They can see the face of the beast waking fast towards them in almost the same horizontal level.
“I guess it is about 30 minutes until Yokohama downtown is turned into a mess.” Dazai idly said while looking at the beast.
“That’s not something we are going to see.” Chuuya said, holding the hat in his hand. “By that time we have already either blown away that thing, or died.”
“Gosh, no way! Double-suiciding with Chuuya is the worst. For once, let’s do it seriously.”
“Fine by me. I don’t feel like dying either. I still have to become an executive before you and order you around.”
“Oh? That’s quite some confidence you’ve got there. That jewelry business? I heard it’s going well?”
“The like of you will never be able to catch up. Our jewelry distribution channel, including carriers, pawnbrokers and appraisers, is number one in Yokohama.”
“Yeah, I know that. I was in charge of that before Chuuya took over, that’s why.”
“What?”, Chuuya looked at Dazai, surprised. “That means the first person who set up that distribution channel was actually you???”
“Leave that for now. It is about time it comes within striking distance.” Dazai pointed ahead with his chin. The foot steps of the Demonic Beast Guivre got closer. Its crimson eyes looked straight at them. Chuuya gazed at the beast for a while, then he looked up and shouted.
“Dazai’s used stuff!  hand-me-down, huh?”
“Whatever.”
The giant beast trampled on the roadside trees and tore down the power lines. The signboards and abandoned bicycles were lifted off the ground as a result of gravity anomaly and crushed into tiny dust in the air.
”Remembered the plan?”
“Yeah.”
Chuuya and Dazai stood side by side, facing the giant beast. Their clothes fluttered under the high wind.
“What you have to keep in mind is that this plan is not foolproof. We don’t know what is going to happen. After all, we are going to hit the Demonic Beast Guivre with Arahabaki. I won’t be surprised even if the world is blown away.”
“Like it will!” Chuuya said. “Verlaine survived such thing nice years ago.”
The plan Dazai came up with.
In that plan, Chuuya would open his “gate” and hit the giant beast with Arahabaki’s infinite energy.
“We already know the method to open Chuuya’s “gate”. It’s the control spell that N has said: “Oh grantors of dark disgrace, do not wake me again”. With that, the sealing command will be reset. We will not be able to open the “gate” just by doing that, but that hat will help us.”
The hat that Chuuya was holding was the one that Verlaine had worn. That was gifted to him by Rimbaud, with a piece of ability metal embedded inside. With that, the person who wears it, in this case Chuuya, would be able control the “gate” by his will. Verlaine being able to freely open the “gate” by himself and using the Black Hole power, were all thanks to that hat. 
“It’s almost time. Chuuya will jump from here, open the “gate” in front of that monster, and hit it with the power.” Dazai lifted the radio with one hand while looking at the beast. “So I’m going to send an order to my men to prepare for action… Is that okay?”
“Of course it is okay.” Chuuya turned to Dazai. “Why are you asking me such a thing?”
Dazai didn’t answer right away.
That was an unusual expression. It’s like he was trying to say something, but had to arrange the words in his head to decide where he should start. An expression that Dazai rarely shows.
“There is one problem.” Dazai cut off the sentence hesitantly. “It has nothing to do with the success rate of the plan. It is a matter we have to overcome in the end but... it may require some time to decide.“
“What’s with you?”, Chuuya raised his eyebrows at Dazai. “Stop dramatizing it. Hurry up and say it”
“I said earlier about the control spell to open the “gate”. That is used to reset the command formula inside Chuuya, right?” Dazai spoke with a strangely restrained voice. “If we use that, the logs of the command formula that were written in the past will also be erased. That means…. even if the memory erasure command was used on Chuuya in the past, the traces of that will be erased as well.” 
“What?”
“I told you before right, the “memory erasure command”. The only way to confirm if Chuuya is a human or not is to check the history to see if the memory erasure command was ever used. It means…” Dazai looked at Chuuya with eyes that he had never looked at him before. Those eyes were serious. “If we use that control spell, the method to confirm whether Chuuya is an artificial personality created by a string of code, or just a normal human being, will be lost. For good.”
The time stopped.
Chuuya opened his eyes and turned towards Dazai, but his eyes were not seeing anything. The wind blew between the two of them. Even so, Chuuya did not blink.
“Verlaine became like that because he was tormented by the curse that he was not human. That only is enough of a big problem. The matter of being human or not.” Dazai took out his pocket watch, gave it a glance then continued. “I can delay the time until the plan starts for about two minutes. I will send an order to my men to wait… You can think about it alone for a while. Cuz I guess it’s hard for you to collect your thoughts with me around.”
Having said so, Dazai turned away and walked towards the stairs, leaving Chuuya alone.
Dazai’s eyes were fixed on the his pocket watch. Two more minutes. Too short for a life decision. But he couldn’t afford more than that.
Inside Dazai’s head, he was planning the procedure to switch to an alternative plan in case Chuuya refused, at a tremendous speed.
After six steps, Dazai reached the stair. He stepped on the stair and started walking down. Three steps down the stair, he heard a *clang*, a cool sound of metal echoing behind him. It sounds like the metal was kicked by the sole of someone’s shoes. The moment he realized what that sound was, Dazai turned around in surprise.
There was already no one at the top.
Dazai was dazed for a moment, then he loosened his lips and laughed.
“Trying to act cool, huh?”, Dazai smiled, both annoyed and relieved. Then he turned to his radio and sent out his order. “Chuuya has sallied. Everyone, get ready for battle.”
....
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Traffic Jam: Madix Food Poisoning
Madix awoke with his head in Riley’s lap. It was awfully disorienting. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep with his head against the car window while Dakota and Blair chatted quietly in the front. He also remembered that his stomach was quite full from dinner, and that it lulled him into a deep food coma. He definitely ate too much at the buffet, so he welcomed the drowsiness that came with the heavy meal.
Now he was completely horizontal with his legs curled up on the back seat. He could feel Riley playing with his hair which felt heavenly, but he did want to know how he ended up with his seatbelt off. He also registered the fact that his stomach didn’t feel any lighter. In fact, it was hurting and churning more than before.
With a groan, Madix sat up and looked around. It was dark out, like it had been before he fell asleep, but now the car’s interior was flooded with red from other people’s brake lights. Everywhere he looked, he only saw the lights from many stationary cars on the highway. He couldn’t have been out long if they were still on the highway.
Dakota looked back as he saw movement in the mirror. “Did you sleep off all that food, Mads?”
“Not really.” He squinted more from discomfort that anything else. “How long was I asleep for?”
“Close to two hours.”
“Two hours!” he exclaimed. They should have been back home by now. The four lanes of stopped cars answered some of his questions. “How long have we been in traffic?”
“Close to two hours.”
Madix huffed and fell back on Riley’s lap. He would have much preferred to be home rather than stuck in a sea of parked vehicles. He looked up at Riley with as much of a smile as he could manage with the ache in his belly. “Thanks for keeping me comfy.”
“I didn’t want your neck to hurt from sleeping against the window,” Riley said while leaning forward to kiss him on the forehead. “When it seemed like we’d be stopped for a while, I took off your seatbelt.”
“What the hell is keeping us stopped for two hours?”
Blair looked back at the boys and chimed in saying, “the rumour is that some guy got hit trying to cross the lanes. People gave up a while ago and got out of their cars.”
“They have the right idea,” Madix mumbled. He really had to pee and now it seemed things were about to get worse with the nausea that was slowly growing in intensity.
The car was mostly quiet, the conversation having died an hour ago. Madix closed his eyes, hoping to fall asleep again, and sleep off the stomach-ache this time. He still had the taste of the ocean in his mouth from the seafood portion of the buffet. It made him want to gag just thinking about it.
His belly was so full and swollen. He could feel it pressing against his jeans, so he undid the button to give him some room to breathe. As he did, his stomach let out long gurgle that he could feel beneath his hand. The air must have traveled up his throat because the next thing he knew he was burping wetly into his fist.
“Ugh, excuse me,” he moaned. Lying down was not the best position to be burping in. His throat was already burning from the reflux.
Riley’s hands went back to playing with Madix’s hair, but it felt more tense this time. “Your stomach was making a lot of noise while you slept.”
“Mmh, it’s kinda upset,” Madix said with his eyes closed. For a moment, he forgot who he was talking to. “I’m actually a little nauseous to be honest.” The gentle massage ended as Riley’s hands froze. Shit. Madix sat up and fixed his hair nervously. He wanted to tell Riley that it wasn’t that bad – that he could hold off until they got home. But he didn’t know when that would be and God his stomach was cramping. Whatever he’d put into his belly really didn’t like it in there.
Riley started to bounce his leg and bite the nail of his thumb. Madix could see the war on his face. Half of his brain told himself to run away while the other half told him that Madix was able to comfort him all the time. It was no big deal. But the louder half was the one telling him to escape. There was only one problem. “Madix, we’re in a car. I—I don’t like this…”
Before saying something that would help, Madix couldn’t help the belch that escaped past his lips. Sitting up straight made the air and food shift around in his stomach. There was another gurgle that made him push his hand into his abdomen. He hated the fear that came across his boyfriend’s face. “Ry, it’ll be fine. I can always get out of the car if I need to.”
That’s when Dakota piped up, perhaps sensing the change in atmosphere. “What are you guys talking about?”
“Madix says he’s nauseous and thinks he’s gonna puke,” Riley said quickly with a quiver in his voice.
“Well, I didn’t say the part about—” Another wet belch caught him off guard and forced him to put a hand over his mouth. Okay, yeah Riley was right, he did think he was gonna puke.
Dakota and Blair both looked back worriedly. It was weird to see Dakota so well from the back seat, but it wasn’t like he had to concentrate on driving. He gave his friend a sympathetic look which morphed into an alarmed one as he heard the burp that Madix let out. “Damn, that didn’t sound good. Are you—”
Madix suddenly opened the door and left before Dakota could finish his sentence. Dakota just stared at the place where Madix had been. He blinked a few times and then simply turned up the car’s music up much louder than normal. With his hand on the door, he looked back at Blair. “You should talk to Riley about something really awesome. I don’t know what, but just talk. Or sing!”
“I’ve got him. Go help Madix.”
Dakota didn’t need to be told twice. He left his passengers in the beautiful company of Freddie Mercury as Bohemian Rhapsody started to play. Good, that was a long song.
He went around to the back of the car where he found Madix hunched over and coughing. There was no puddle of vomit by his feet. Yet. The boy’s hair was a mess and sticking up from sweat. Dakota placed his large hand in the center of his back. “You know, you puke in my car a lot.”
Madix groaned and spat on the ground as his mouth filled with saliva. “I didn’t this time.”
“I know. It just got me thinking of all the lovely memories,” Dakota said with a grin. The grin turned into a grimace as Madix burped, the sound of it hitting the back of his throat. “Did you catch a bug? ‘Cause I can’t imagine you’d be carsick.” Looking around at the traffic jam, Dakota tried not to make eye contact with the car behind them. It was only then that he realized that they might be giving a few people a show that they didn’t want to see.
Madix shook his head. This was worse than motion sickness. This was something spoiled trying to crawl out of him. Or swim out of him. He was going to tell Dakota the reason, but a harsh retch put an end to that plan.
Dakota’s eyes went wide. “Oh boy, sounds like you’ll tell me later.”
Madix’s stomach heaved into his throat as a gush of partially digested food rushed out of his mouth. It splattered in between his feet, forming an impressive yet disgusting puddle of sushi and ice cream, and everything else that the buffet offered.
He felt big circles being rubbed on his back which made the pain of his next retch less terrible. Still not great. His throat burned from the second wave of sick. The burn invaded his nose, making him wish he had a tissue as the sniffles came on strong.
Dakota gave his back a firm pat in between the light circles. “There you go. Get that shit up and you’ll feel better.” He had no idea how true those words were. Madix just had to get it out of his system because it was wreaking havoc on his stomach.
There was a rare moment of quiet in between bouts that Madix used to contemplate if life was worth living. He leaned against the back of the car, trying to catch his breath before the next round started.
“Are you finished?” Dakota asked, “Because I have water in the car.”
He moaned. “No, but water would be great.”
Dakota came back to the car just in time to hear the last verse of the song. Riley and Blair were indeed singing, albeit shakily in Riley’s case.
“How’s he doing?” Riley asked with concern in his voice.
“Beautiful, very impressive boyfriend you’ve got,” Dakota said with the same energy that he gave to everything. “But seriously, he’s okay. We’re managing. Lovely voices by the way.” He gave a Blair a wink and left.
Madix was back to gagging over the puddle with sick hanging from his lips. Yep, so beautiful, Dakota mumbled to himself.
“Thanks,” Madix said as he wiped his sleeve across his mouth and took the water bottle from his friend. “It was something I ate by the way. Sorry about this.”
“Hey, I got nowhere to go,” Dakota raised his arms, gesturing to the traffic jam.
As if the universe wanted to prove Dakota wrong, the cars started rolling ever so slowly. It was more movement than they’d seen in the last two hours. “Finally. Do you think you’ll be okay for the rest of the drive?”
“I hope so.” Madix rubbed the back of his neck. “I hate doing this to Riley.”
“He’s singing his worries away with Blair.” Dakota waved his hand in the air.
“I thought I heard Queen.”
Dakota chuckled. “And I think I’m going to take the backroads home, so I’ll pull over whenever you need.”
Before Madix could thank his friend, the car behind them honked at them to get a move on. Dakota shouted unkind words to them and waved goodbye with only one finger.
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anika-ann · 3 years
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My Timid Hello, My Clumsy Goodbye (S.R.)
Type: one-shot, canon semi-compliant?
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Barton!reader    Word count: 8900 (...sorry)
Summary: You’re spending the evening and the night before your wedding with the two most important men of your life.
When the sun rises again, you’ll say your ‘I do’ in a close circle of friends and family. It’s not a goodbye to your old life and it’s not a hello to some enormous change; but you will no longer be a Barton. You will be a Rogers. Why not reminisce a bit? 
Warnings: mention of an abandoned baby, blood and injuries, alcohol, implied possibly rougher sex (nothing graphic) ...mature?, language, so much sappiness... let me know if I missed any
A/N: For what-is-your-backupplan-today 10th anniversary of CA:TFA challenge. Prompts in bold. Thank you for coming up with this wonderful theme and hosting this challenge! Long live CA:TFA!
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A/N: Throughout the fic, you’ll find snippets of lyrics from SYML’s "Everything All At Once”. Honestly, the song has a completely different meaning to me, but tearing it out of context works for this story just fine :) When you’re done reading, I recommend the music video. It friggin’ broke me in the worst and best ways. Enjoy!
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This is my hello This is my clumsy goodbye I'm putting my glass down I wanna remember tonight
Tony rented an island for you. Clint nearly passed out learning about it and grumbled for days about having a hard time to top that, which, no arguing, was understandable.
It was an incredibly extravagant thing to do, throwing around money that could have been used for a much more honourable cause, but you couldn’t complain. One should not look a gifted horse into mouth – and so you didn’t.
Because Tony Stark renting an island was his premature wedding gift. The fact that your brother bitched about not being able to top that, well, that was his problem. You were certain that deep down, he knew you didn’t need any fancy gifts like that.
Then again, Tony’s gift might have been epically overpriced, but not exactly unthoughtful; along with a private island came a private jet and you being literally flied under radar so no single paparazzi knew where you and America’s golden boy Steve Rogers would seal the deal with your ‘I do.’ So, you were everything but ungrateful to your friend that he succeeded at pulling off such covert operation; and frankly, this place was nothing short of wonderful.
The golden sand was pleasantly warm under your toes as you as you and Clint walked towards the two single beach chairs facing the ocean. Wearing bikini under the baggy t-shirt and a pair of shorts, sunglasses on top of your head, because why would you deprive yourself the gorgeous view of the sun beginning to set down, you followed your brother – not in blood but in every other sense – to the seats, allured by the view, the serenity and the cold sixpack in his hand.
You had already had a traditional bachelorette party with your girls – with the team, with your family. Natasha, Wanda, Pepper, Sharon and Maria. The night had been the perfect blend of what was considered typically feminine, dress up, fanciness and wine and gossip, and a fun night out with shots, dancing, karaoke and pool. That particular night sadly was interrupted shortly by an annoying photographer, but he soon understood it was not very clever to annoy three and a half Avengers or the CEO of Stark Industries for that matter.
Clint however… Clint deserved a special evening with you. With the rest of the team in various state of chilling out, scattered around the luxurious small houses and gorgeous beaches, you two were left the privacy such moment required.
Even if the special moment consisted of simple talking and drinking beer while watching the sun set, a symbolic end of one phase of your life – a phase that was undeniably tied to the famous and yet barely known archer, one of the seven defenders who rushed into the Battle of New York to save the Earth.
One of the seven had been your brother, having previously been controlled by the monster who brought an army from outer space; there was no questioning whether you would join the fight or not, no matter how you preferred the latter part of your field medic job title to the former.
Another of these brave people, as it turned out, was your future husband. A man you had met for the first time that day, but whom you didn’t hesitate to push back down when he got hit by a freaking alien weapon and stood up, wanting to shake it off as if it was nothing. Your medical training told you not to let him; and your stubbornness had been just a touch stronger than his that day.
Apparently, Steve found you always standing your ground to be one of your most endearing qualities.
What a fancy way to express it instead of simply calling you a stubborn pain in his ass.
“You’re lost in your head, Twinkie,” Clint hummed, playfully nudging your ribs with an elbow, bringing you back to the present.
Your nose automatically scrunched at the childhood nickname.
“You gotta stop calling me that, Bobo,” you retorted, a grin spreading on your face as it was his turn to grimace.
You knew it was nothing but an act and that he in fact loved that nickname, because it held so much sentiment, so many memories… as did his endearment for you.
Bobo had been your first word or so Clint always claimed. Obviously, you wouldn’t remember.
You wouldn’t remember your parents, having been only two days old when your mother left you with a damn circus which was in your hometown at the time. You couldn’t recall how you wouldn’t stop crying until you heard a seven-year-old Clint humming a lullaby for you, with silly replacements of lyrics that always made you laugh later on when you could understand them.
How he started calling you Twinkie, because he was a sugar addict and apparently, you were sweet and small and he liked you; so much that he soon appointed himself to be your brother, your bro, your Bobo.
Once you were older and learned that your involuntary nickname for him also meant ‘crazy’ in Spanish, you were sold to that Bobo endearment forever.
Including the night before your wedding.
“You keep zoning out on me, Kid. Getting cold feet?” Clint hummed, casually handing you a can of beer, opening it up for you.
You automatically reached out and took a sip, eyes fixed on the warm colour on the horizon. What a ridiculous question… but kind and caring, with a hidden promise of getting you out of here if you just asked. Your amazing, protective, crazy brother.
You couldn’t but smile widely, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.
“You offering to kidnap the bride, Clint? I’d like to see you try. You were always better at trapeze than at being an escape artist.”
Clint scoffed. “Please. These are amateurs. I bet I could pull it off.”  
That drew a laugh from you.
“Are you calling the Avengers amateurs? Better yet, are you calling your wife an amateur?” you teased him, watching his face lose colour when he realized that he did exactly that. You leaned over and patted his thigh. “Don’t worry, Bobo. I won’t tell Nat.”
Clint visibly relaxed, but a shadow of worry twisting his expression.
“Seriously though. Where’s your head at, Kid?”
You just shrugged, smile resting on your lips as you wondered if you ever felt so relaxed. It went along well with the reminiscing of the past and despite the fact that tomorrow was a big day and you should probably be nervous, you weren’t. Not in the slightest, more like the opposite. You were giddy even; it dawned to you that nothing in your life had ever felt so right.
No moment in your life offered you such serenity to your heart, your shoulders free of any weight, body light as air.
“Just taking a trip down the memory lane. Thinking about how lucky I was to be dropped at your circus of all circuses of the world,” you grinned at Clint, your tone remaining completely serious.
Because you were being serious – words couldn’t express how grateful for everything that led to this moment you were. How grateful you were to your brother for watching over you, making sure you would always see the light of a new day, guiding you when you found yourself in a dark.
Clint didn’t react beside his fingers twitching and you knew he was giving you the chance to say what you needed to say.
“About how you taught me pretty much everything I know. About how while I might not be the best person in the world, my brother, who is the best brother ever, made me into a decent person and I owe him everything I am. And how I should probably feel guilty for tying myself to another guy who just swept in and whisked away your little sister.”
Clint stared at you, gulping as his eyes gradually filled with tears. You found yourself in a very cheesy moment, bordering on absurd and it was almost too much to handle – but Clint took a deep breath, cleared his throat and swallowed his tears.
“Well, that bastard did steal my greatest life achievement with way too little effort,” he remarked, voice cracking slightly, the image of him causing your eyes to burn as well even if his words made you both tear up and burst out laughing.
“Dammit, Clint, stop making me laugh and cry at the same time…”
“You started it!” he pointed his index finger at you accusingly, taking a large sip of his beer to drown his sentiment. “But for the record, you should not feel guilty. It’s not like you’re leaving me.”
“I know, but-“
“And if you were, you’d be leaving me in good hands.”
“That’s true, Natasha does have a grip on you and might keep you outta trouble-“
“She’s the one who gets me into trouble half of the time!” Clint cried out in protest and you would have argued if it wasn’t the truth.
But before he had met her, Clint was able to make up his own trouble just fine – he was more than half of a reason why while doing a bit of trapeze yourself, you also grew interested in medical care. Because who else than the little sister should treat her big brother’s wounds when he got too crazy?
“In all seriousness, I’m proud of you, Twinkie,” he said sincerely, one corner of his lips raised in a lopsided smile. “You’re entirely entitled to have your own life and if there’s one guy in this whole damn world I’m willing to trust to have you… well, I guess it’s that big blond dumbass.”
“He can be a bit dumb of ass occasionally, can’t he?” you mused lovingly. “I guess it’s right what they say… we do pick our partners similar to our parents, maybe not only in looks. I didn’t really have a dad, I had you, so…”
Clint sighed, smile widening, before it slipped from his face as he caught up on the not-so-hidden insult.
“Hey!”
You couldn’t but laugh at his shocked expression, accidently spilling a splosh of beer on the sand.
“Just… maybe make sure that even married, you still find time to hang out with your big dumb of ass brother every once in a while?” Clint suggested, sounding surprisingly vulnerable.
Your whole demander softened, a little pang of guilt stinging in your heart as he took your words too seriously – and at his worry.
“Clint… I will always find time for my amazing brother.”
“Well, you’re marrying a pretty amazing guy too, so, you know, I understand the dilemma…”
You snorted when he seemed to genuinely fawn over your future husband, shaking your head before downing the rest of your drink.
“As amazing as Steve might be – and gosh, he is, don’t get me started – you still own a pretty big chunk of my heart.”
“Good. You are a Barton at heart,” Clint hummed, pretending that a few tears didn’t roll down his cheeks, leaning towards you as his expression once again grew serious.
Your chest tightened. Oh no. He was gonna say something to make you cry too – as if you already weren’t at verge of crying, emotions bubbling under the surface.
“Clint-“ you warned him silently, but he spoke up anyway and you gulped, bracing yourself.
“Just… whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing. That you will stay who you are. Not a perfect housewife, but a good woman.”
That was not what you were prepared for, as touching as the sentiment was.
You burst out laughing, head thrown back, hands clutching at your stomach as it actually hurt with the sudden clench. Tears did spring from your eyes, a perfect blend of touched and infinitely amused at your brother’s words.
“Har, har, that’s what I get from trying to speak from heart…” Clint muttered grumpily and you willed yourself to calm your hitching breaths as you looked at him, the pout of his mouth causing you to cackle again.
“Sorry, sorry. It’s just… I am moved, I really am. Thank you. But me? A perfect housewife? And you realize I’m marrying Steve Rogers, right? The epitome of a good man? He would probably threaten to sock me in a jaw if I tried to change into something I’m not just for his sake and actually sock me in my jaw if I turned into a bad woman.”
Clint’s eyebrows jumped, a smirk appearing on his face. “That’s a lot of punching.”  
“My thoughts exactly,” you agreed, reaching for another can, pausing when a thought occurred to you. “Just so we’re clear, I might turn into a bit of a housewife when we have kids, alright? And I want to be a good wife, a good partner to Steve, which is what I’m trying to do even now.”
“I mean, yeah, sure, wouldn’t expect anything less. But… just promise me you’ll stay you and that you’ll keep giving him a run for his money, keep him on his toes a bit,” Clint shrugged with a grin, drawing another chuckle from you.
You saw his point – and you fully intended to keep Steve on his toes. You had a good reason to believe that your future husband enjoyed when you did.
“Oh Clinton… I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
He nodded contentedly, picking up another beer and raising it for a toast, his can clinking with yours.
“Cheers to that!”
A comfortable silence settled between the two of you then, a quiet joy wrapped in one moment; the sun ending its quest, the warm breeze in your hair, the waves whispering of a journey you were about to take off to. And all that with a wordless comforting presence of your family, ready to offer you a shelter if a storm rocked your boat and the wind caused you to lose course.
As your mind wandered, you had to laugh at yourself – it was almost as if you were raised by pirates and not circus performers. Perhaps it was the little bit of free cheeky spirit these life journeys had in common what brought the metaphor to your mind. It was a bit like working with the Avengers too, always on a road, adrenaline in your veins even as you mostly stayed on the jet, ready to assist them… yet here you were pondering that maybe, you were yearning for settling down a bit more.
“Cap wouldn’t punch you anyway, right?” Clint remarked, breaking the silence and you blinked yourself back into reality, taking a moment to figure out what he was talking about.
Oh. Right. Steve punching you if you changed yourself significantly for his benefit.
You smiled softly, heart swelling in affection when the answer to that question appeared obvious.
“No, he wouldn’t.”
“Good. He’d try once and I’d put an arrow straight between his eyes,” Clint promised darkly, almost causing you to choke at the sudden violent note. He quickly fixed it with a ramble, lightening the atmosphere yet again. “Minus training of course. He’s allowed to try in order to improve your hand-to-hand. Not that he would ever land a hand on you anyway. Always so soft on you…” he grinned, seemingly alright with that attitude if not slightly calling the big strong supersoldier out.
Oh you could be cheeky too alright if that was what your brother wanted.
“That you know of.”
A confused huh was the only reaction you got – that and a puzzled look.
“He’s always soft on me,” you repeated Clint’s words, turning to him, lips slowly spreading in a wicked smirk. “That you know of.”
Clint’s brows furrowed for a short moment and then his features twisted in a disgusted grimace, face growing a tint crimson.
“Gross!” he complained, more blood rushing to his cheeks. “You know what, I changed my mind. We’re leaving. You’re not marrying him. I’m kidnapping the bride and never returning her, locking her somewhere far far away-“
You snorted at his indignation, your grin undoubtedly battling the one of the Cheshire cat.
“No will do, Bobo. I’m marrying Steve and you can’t stop me.”
This time, Clint didn’t even protest, eyes misted over, nose still scrunched at the mental image, lamenting as the night slowly settled over the paradise-like island.
“Oh god, please help, I can’t unsee it, can’t unhear it--- ew-”
Your laughter was carried away by the breeze as Clint seemed to be unable to look at you.
You swung your beer around, thinking that yes – nothing quite ever felt so right as being here in this moment. Relaxing with your brother, teasing him relentlessly and counting down hours to when you’d say ‘I do’ to the only man who in your eyes ever battled the mantle of the best man in the universe.
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In one unending moment You fall within my reach I'm close enough to whisper Hold on to me Hold on to me
You weren’t sure what time it was when you snuck into the beach house, one of few, which had been wisely chosen to be occupied by you and Steve only. You attempted to be quiet and liked to think you succeeded, in your even barely tipsy state, but your effort turned out to be in vain as you found Steve perched against headboard of your bed; reading a book, thin white t-shirt and sleep shorts on display as the soft sheet had been kicked away, scrunched up by his feet.
He was gorgeous – he was gorgeous and yours, a momentary picture perfect of peace, appearing to feel just as light as you did and somehow the dullness of the moment, just him relaxing in bed with a good read as you came home… it was more alluring than one would think.
Steve looked up from the book when you wavered in the doorway, soft lopsided smile spreading on his face.
God, that smile. It might be over two years since you saw it for the first time, but it could still make you weak in your knees.
And somehow, it was now even more charming now than the day you met, more tender than just before you kissed for the first time, sweeter than when he proposed.
“Hey sweetheart,” he greeted you, appreciative gaze roaming your figure and the little too much skin on display – something you regretted when the warm sunrays had bid you goodbye, raising goosebumps. And Steve, the attentive man he was, noticed, his smile earning a teasing edge. “You look a bit cold in there.”
You resisted the urge to stick your tongue out.
“And you look pretty cosy in there. Thought you’d be either asleep or with Bucky.”
Steve shrugged, not letting go of his unfinished chapter just yet, knowing you had a routine to go through before joining him.
“Maybe I missed you. Maybe Bucky is an old man and needs his sleep.”
You chuckled, not rising to the bait – you knew what would follow if you dared to say Steve was just as old. Not that you would complain about Steve trying to convince you about the opposite. You could never.
“Well, I bet he still made you a promise of breaking a bone of mine or two if I ever hurt you. He’ll find energy for that, centenarian or not,” you hummed nonchalantly as you bounced off the doorframe, heading to the bathroom and leaving Steve puzzled by your remark.
“How did you know?” he called out after you, endearingly confused.
“That’s what big brothers do, love!”
Short silence was your answer as you reached for your toothbrush and begun your nighty ritual.
Steve must have figure out what did it mean for him, considering you had a protective brother of your own, because a moment later, his half-amused “noted!” reached your ears.
You chuckled and shook your head, smile spread on your face which you didn’t think could be erased as long as you were in this paradise – free of worry, full of joy. And why wouldn’t you be? You were about to marry one of the smartest, kindest, sassiest and most beautiful men that ever walked the Earth. What was not to love?
You couldn’t but let your mind wander again; if you had only known the day you met, right from that moment, that you’d end up here…. well. It felt a little surreal, knowing that by this time tomorrow, you’d be Steve’s wife; then again, Steve’s life story was surreal enough on its own.
Who would have thought that the stubborn handsome man in the ridiculous suit and you, equally stubborn about you at least checking on the wound upon half-dragging him to a quiet corner in a middle of a battlefield, would grow so close?
It hadn’t been simple. Steve wasn’t the most open guy and while friendly enough, he wasn’t exactly offering his heart on his sleeve, not to strangers. But it hadn’t been too hard, once you were meeting on regular basis. Piece by piece he revealed his true colours and soon after he did… you started falling; hard and fast.
Not necessarily swooning, not on the outside at least; you were a professional, after all. The safety and the well-being of the team was your priority.
It was just too bad – or the best thing, you supposed – that Steve had the same goal as you with one significant difference; as far as he was concerned, the responsibility to look after his team sometimes excluded him.
Oh, was he wrong about that.
And boy, did you let him know you thought so. You still kept proving him wrong to this day and was planning on nurturing his own acknowledgement of his self-worth till your last breath…
“Get your ass in here, Steve!” you called out after him, slowly losing patience as you had tried asking politely the previous two times with no result but being dismissed.
The change of tone and language made his head snap to you from where he was talking to Sam, an offended scowl on his face.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me, Captain. Don’t be a stubborn jerk and get your ass in here so I can clean your cuts.”
A few months ago, you wouldn’t have been able to talk to him like that; to the great legend, Captain America. At least you certainly wouldn’t have called him his first name and maybe, just maybe, you’d be a little less crass. But now? He might be Captain America still, a hero who deserved all the good things for the sacrifices he made for the world’s safety, but first and foremost, he was just Steve to you.
A colleague, a teammate, a friend. You might not be a part of the team per se, not the way Clint, Natasha or Steve were, but you still belonged. And you were all friends.
Friends irritated each other sometimes and frankly, Steve was often battling with Tony for the mantle of the most infuriating one.
Friends also needed to call each other out on their bullshit by any means necessary when the time was right and now the time was as good as any.
Usually, Steve slipped through your fingers, because he was a supersoldier and the others weren’t, so their injuries took precedence; today, it was only Natasha, Sam and Steve, and the captain was the only one whom you hadn’t checked yet. And you knew there were things to check, the trickle of blood from his eyebrow probably the least of your concerns.
“I wouldn’t argue with her, Steve. She can be pretty stubborn. Clint wouldn’t stop complaining about it,” Natasha supported you from the pilot seat and you fought yourself so you wouldn’t grin at her in victory – it would only irritated Steve further. “She’s almost as bull-headed as you are.”
At that, your smile would have slipped. But honestly, she wasn’t wrong.
“Don’t I know it,” Steve grunted, sparing Sam another glance and when the Falcon himself beckoned to you as well, wordlessly asking Steve to get himself checked up.
The captain sighed irately, but made his way back to the separate and well-lit space of your examination room.
He didn’t try to hide his annoyance – in fact, he squared his shoulders and his steps sounded a bit loud for anyone to believe it was a coincidence. Also, the scowl of exasperation never left his otherwise handsome face.
“This is completely unnecessary. A stupid waste of time,” he hissed as he walked past you and you took a deep calming breath, exchanging an eyeroll with Sam before you disappeared from sight.
“Captain. I respect you and your position, but you say one more time that my job here is unnecessary and stupid, you’ll be looking for a new medic,” you retorted as he stripped the upper part of his uniform angrily, revealing his white-tank-top-clad torso.
Well, at least the fabric used to be white – now a blood stain the size of both of your palms was seeping into the material at Steve’s right side, gushing from what definitely appeared to be a knife wound.
You were gonna murder him one of those days... unless he got killed himself first.
“Seriously?!”
“It’s just a graze-” he started to argue but you cut him off when you tore the fabric away. He winced as some of the dried blood had acted as a glue, having stuck the cloth into the wound, and now was violently ripped off.
“Tr to insinuate again that I’m incompetent at recognizing what’s just a graze, Steve. I dare you. This is a cut wide and deep enough for stitches! Haven’t you had the serum, you could have been bleeding out to death on this table!”
“But I do have it-“
“Or for fuck’s SAKE, stop being a baby and let me treat the bloody gash in your right mesogastric area! The serum accelerates your healing, but it doesn’t make you invincible OR immortal as far as I know--- Jesus fucking Christ-!”
He bristled, taking a deep breath to fight back, but he never got the chance, because you started working and the words died in his throat. Surprisingly, inspecting the damage, poking around a knife wound that might have already begin to seal itself thanks to Erskine’s formula but had not been just a graze hurt and coincidentally, it pulled the rug from under his feet.
To his credit, Steve barely even hissed at the pain.
“Just so you know, I’ll be using the disinfection that stings worse,” you noted, voice dripping venom, because you were genuinely done with Steve’s bullshit.
You lied through your teeth though. You wouldn’t. No matter how infuriating Steve was and how difficult he made your life – causing you to fall for his stupid martyr ass and pine after him among other things – you would never purposely hurt him.
And he must have sensed that, because your remark didn’t earn you a murderous glare or a retort – much to your surprise.
In fact, Steve fell entirely quiet, watching you work without protest, not even objecting when you applied enough local anaesthetic to knock out an elephant and sewed the tissue together so it healed easier. He let you inspect the rest of his torso and bandage his ribs, vigorously shaking his head when you asked him if he was injured anywhere below the waist.
He observed you as you kept an eye on his face for any minute sign of pain he’d be hiding, but all you could see were his irises, startlingly bright blue, pools of honesty and something you had trouble decoding. He seemed… humbled almost. It silenced the anger inside you, the flames of rage – and fear for his well-being, if you were being honest with yourself – turning into a barely smouldering pile of ash.
When you moved on to his head, gently pushing away the strands which obscured the gash on his eyebrow, his eyelids slid shut. You knew how unpleasant facial injuries were, especially around one’s eyes and so you took care to be extra careful as you cleaned the wound and the area surrounding it, most definitely not using the stingy disinfectant.
Not that Steve could get an infection as far as you knew. It was more force of a habit than anything else… and it made you feel better. He had this idiotic mask of an invincible hero he put up sometimes and it drove you insane, because you knew he was only human, a beautiful kind soul, but god, could he be an ass.
“Almost done,” you whispered soothingly when you noticed his jaw tightening as you had to apply a bit more pressure to get a tiny piece of gravel from the cut. You certainly didn’t want that to stay under the newly healing skin.
The moment you retreated with the bloody gauze, Steve’s eyes were back on you, wide and regretful.
“I’m sorry,” he offered quietly, a genuine apology that sounded almost absurd after you two were hissing at each other like damn hellcats. “I didn’t mean to--- I’m sorry for being rude and ungrateful. Thank you for taking care of my injuries.”
One glance into those deep irises and benign hesitant smile and you were done for. How could you stay mad at him? Well, you were still mad at him for the absolute disregard of his own health, but… well. You also understood he felt like he needed to stay strong for the team and put them first and how he actually was in pain.
Pretty much everyone was a pain in the ass when in pain.
You sighed as you searched for few band-aid strips to cover the cut.  
“It’s alright, Steve. I’m used to old men being grumpy and not meaning things they say when they are,” you offered lightly and he hung his head with a chuckle, clearly not taking the old man remark personally – and understanding you were referring to your brother.
His smile was wider when he looked up again. “You shouldn’t have to be used to it.”
You shrugged, carefully slipping two fingers under his chin to angle his face so you could stick the strips over the wound.
“Well, I deserve it sometimes. I don’t mean to… to be overbearing and make you feel like you’re incompetent or something,” you added hesitantly, worrying your teeth over your lower lip as the tone you’d been handling him with caught up with you. Perhaps you could have been nicer.
You smoothened the stripes of band-aid, gulping as you felt Steve’s gaze boring into your face while you continued.
“I know you’re not incompetent. You’re very capable, you’re the best. It’s just… I still--- worry- for all of you. For the full-time Earth’s mightiest heroes. Silly, huh?” you muttered self-depreciatingly and when your eyes met, you were startled by the intensity he watched you with as you laid your fears bare in front of him, leaving you vulnerable. You swiftly looked away and dropped your hands. “Here, almost as good as new.”
A lump grew in your throat as you stripped your gloves, tossing them into the bin. Did you reveal too much? Didn’t it sound silly indeed as you said it out loud? Yes, you were all friendly with each other, but you were supposed to be a professional, focused on your task, not getting distracted by-
-by Steve gently grasping your wrist, causing your heart to skip a startled beat. Definitely not getting weak in the knees when you shot him a surprised glance and he just… brought your hand to his face, lips briefly skimming over your knuckles.
Jesus Christ, Lord have mercy with me.
“Don’t you ever apologize for caring. Don’t stop caring. Silly is the last thing I’d call it.”
Your cheeks felt like set on fire, stomach fluttering as well as your heart. You could feel the ghost of Steve’s lips on your skin, sending your heartrate sky-high, causing your head to spin a bit, your body hot all over.
Did he really—did he just-? And did it mean that… did it mean anything at all?
He let go of your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles, but held your gaze adamantly as he gave you a sad smile and rose to his feet, clearly ready to leave.
You, on the hand, stood there frozen, mind racing.
Why had he done that? Was he really just trying to express gratitude and say sorry for his previous behaviour? Because that was not the way it was supposed to be done, because such tenderness left you entirely bewildered. Was he trying to tell you he was somehow interested in something more than friendship? Was he just high from the anaesthetic, mind you, local one that was not supposed to mess with his brain? Was there any sign of a head injury you missed?
“Thank you, again,” he whispered softly, moving to sidestep you and your hand instinctively shot out, latching onto his forearm… gently.
You gulped, heart stuttering when he glanced at you, puzzled.
One part of you wanted to sink into the floor in embarrassment at your unwitting reaction. Another part of you observed him so closely that you would swear that there was another emotion in his eyes and it was neither apology nor gratitude. You wistfully hoped for longing, the same longing you felt when you were near him, sometimes distant and barely there, other times so acute it hurt.
With your stomach somersaulting in doubt, you willed yourself to raise your free hand slowly, purposely giving him a chance – Lord, please, don’t let him take it – to stop you before your palm settled on his cheek.
You were certain you experienced a small cardiac arrest when Steve not only didn’t avoid the touch, but actually leaned into it, gaze fixed on your face, eyes brighter and softer than you ever remembered seeing. Your gaze flickered to his mouth deliberately, throat turning dry. Too daring? He kissed you knuckles, surely you could reciprocate some affection?
Swallowing against your dry throat, you leaned in before you could change your mind and dropped the briefest peck to his lips, causing his eyelids to flutter shut.
Oh no. Oh no no no no, you totally crossed a line-
You went to retreat your hands from him, but the second you moved, his eyes were snapping open, hand covering yours on his face to keep it there, the other cradling your face and then there was a warm and soft sensation on your own lips as he seized them with his.
Your mind went completely blank save two single thoughts: Steve is kissing me. I really like that.
A small sound escaped you, a blend of surprise and contentment, breaking you from your trance and turning you into an actual participant of the pleasant and entirely unexpected activity.
You drew in a small breath, head spinning from the scent of Steve’s shampoo, disinfectant, sweat and something you couldn’t quite put your finger on and not caring.
He tasted faintly of blood, but otherwise was nothing but sweet as his lips caressed yours, gently tugging at your lower lip and then the upper, the lightest graze of teeth and tease of tongue, finger pressing into your jaw to pull you closer, thumb stroking your cheek.
You whimpered involuntarily when his lips parted from yours, soothing as they returned for a short peck, to drop a brief kiss to the corner of your mouth, to brush your cheek.
Your name was a breathy whisper between the two of you, barely audible as all you could hear was your heartbeat pulsing frantically in your ears, growing aware of your fingers clutching at Steve’s still unzipped armour and nearly sinking in his hair, his hot breath tickling your skin.
You didn’t dare to open your eyes – what if you dreamed it up? What if you looked at him and saw regret – it didn’t feel like he would be regretting it, but… still. Insecurity tugged at your mind as it slowly cleared from the literally breath-taking kiss.
Steve repeated your name with urgency that was unheard of, the single word sounding almost as a plea.
“Please say something.”
Oh.
You blinked your eyes open, surprised to be met with his searching gaze, a minute furrow of his brows. It seemed you weren’t the only one whose mind was being the worst of one’s enemies.
Perhaps your brain was being stupid. Perhaps you both wanted this. Perhaps you felt exactly the same.
As you forced yourself to move, fingers actually slipping into his hair to caress his nape, Steve inhaled shakily, shoulders slumping. The tinniest of smiles tugged at his mouth, tempting red and minutely swollen from the kiss; you had to resist the urge to just taste it again.
Instead, you licked your lips only, savouring the previous sensations, smiling unwittingly.
“That’s… uhm, that’s a really creative new way of driving me crazy.”
Steve’s eyebrows rose along with one corner of his mouth, relief written all over his face.
“Oh? There are other ways in which I’m driving you crazy? Because I couldn’t tell...”
You narrowed your eyes, but you didn’t think he bought you unconvincing act of being irritated with him at such remark.
“Don’t push it, Captain,” you warned him, but your treacherous mouth kept curling up in a smile, your body still buzzing with aftershocks of the kiss.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Uh-huh… s-sure,” you stuttered briefly as his thumb caressed your cheek, bright smiling eyes watching only inches from your face – and yet it felt like he was too far.
“You’re driving me crazy too, you know,” he noted in a breathy voice, causing you to gulp as his gaze flickered to your mouth, clearly implying how you do so… among other ways… like your stubbornness practically matching his.
“Oh really? I do? I couldn’t tell…”
He chuckled, his hand slipping to your nape, soft tickle of his fingers making you squirm.
“I’m gonna kiss you again now if that’s okay,” he whispered, not waiting for your permission and erasing the distance between your lips again.
Still, you whispered your approval to his mouth.
“So okay…”
Long moments later when Sam called out to warn you that you’d be landing soon, you said yes to the grumpy old man’s request to let him treat you dinner.
Oh if you only knew by then how far you’d come…
Lost in thought, goofy smile on your face, you exited the bathroom, ready to snuggle your future husband… and to fully take the opportunity to make love, last night before you officially became his and he became yours.
You had a brief second to register that the bed was empty, your heart skipping a started and disappointed beat. The second you stepped out though, you were literally swept off your feet.
A yelp erupted from your throat as you found yourself with no ground under your feet and high in the air, one of Steve’s arms under your knees, the other under your back. Your hands frantically gripped at the nearest firm point, Steve’s shoulder and arm as you finally realized what the hell happened and was met with a cheeky grin and sparkling blue of his eyes.
That traitor was waiting just by the door to ambush you! Why?
You slapped his very much bare shoulder playfully, hissing a curse, not unaware of the heat radiating of him and seeping into your skin.
“You jerk! You almost gave me a heart attack!” you complained, but he didn’t even have the decency to look apologetic.
“Sorry, sweetheart.”
“No, you’re not.”
Steve grinned wider, shrugging and pulling you closer to his torso, nuzzling your temple and dropping a placatory kiss there.
“Still looking a little cold.”
“No, I look like this because you scared me,” you emphasized, vainly trying to resist the seduction; a mixture of playfulness, sweetness and blatant display of strength as he still held you with ease. It was hard not to be temped. “And you look like you’re awfully warm, parading here without a shirt.”
“Well, I’d call us even since you’re parading around in these absolutely sinful shorts. Makes me hot. I can warm you up,” he mumbled to your skin, lips moving to your ear, causing you to shudder.
How was it so easy for him to make you all hot and bothered? You guessed that at least, as he said, it made you even... it wasn’t difficult to get him riled up either.
“You’re incorrigible.”
“Driving you crazy?” Steve offered, sounding awfully delighted at the idea and you only melted into him further at the reminiscence of your first kiss and what followed.
“Always,” you confirmed, deadly serious, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips or the mewl that escaped you when his teeth grazed the shell of your ear, warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of your neck.
“But you love it.”
“Uh-huh…”
“I can live with that with that then,” he said, stalking to the bed determinately. “Now let me drive you so crazy you can barely speak and the only sound you’re making is whimpering my name.”
He all but tossed you on the bed, a yelp of his name in fact erupting from your throat, followed by a fit of giggles that only died when his mouth seized yours, his lips only leaving when heading south to indeed drive you crazy.
And yes; you loved it.
And you loved him too.
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In one unending moment I fall within your reach My song a sweet surrender Hold on to me Hold on to me
Before the girls could steal you from him, Steve decided – with your enthusiastic agreement – that you should once again try how it felt to make some morning lovin’ outside marriage. With the ceremony planned for the late afternoon, you had plenty of time; and needless to say, it was bliss. Then again, you believed that marital sex with Steve would be just as delightfully pleasant, thank you very much.
Then, it was a whirlwind – make up, hair, dress, a tear or two spilled when you saw the result in the mirror.
More tears spilled when you glanced out of the window and saw the tastefully and modestly decorated arch, the path created by few scattered rose petals, the male part of your almost family sans Clint in the suits, effectively hiding Steve from you; and you from his just in case, because no one wanted any bad luck.
Your staring was interrupted when your brother went to pick you up to lead you down the aisle.
Upon entering the room and setting his gaze on you, he promptly looked away with a sniffle. It both warmed your heart and made you laugh as did his remark.
“Nope, not giving you to him. In fact, I’m never giving you to anyone. No one will ever be worthy, so I’m keeping you.”
“Hush, Clinton, you’ll still have me,” Natasha winked at him as he took a deep calming breath before carefully eyeing you again.
Clearly, it hadn’t done the job, because few tears still found their way down his cheeks.
“You’re a knock-out, sis,” he sputtered hastily, but no less honestly – clearly moved to tears.
And yet… you snorted at his choice of words and he rolled his eyes, quick to compliment your beauty instead.
You wouldn’t have it any other way though, even appreciating his first remark more for it came from the bottom of his heart rather than from what convention required.
Embracing you carefully in fear he would mess up the work of art his wife and other girls created, he held you in his arms for a moment, as you retuned the hug, clutching at his suit with a little too force. From the corner of your eye, you noticed the bridesmaids clearing the room.
“It’s not like I’m leaving you, Bobo,” you hummed with a smile, throwing his own words from last night at him.
And you weren’t leaving him; your heart swelled with love for your brother, your father figure, your long-life friend.
With sniffle, he let go of you and looked you up and down, proud smile spreading on his lips.
“It’s okay. If you are, I have the best spy in the world for a wife, we’ll drag your ass back home.”
You just slapped his chest playfully and took a deep breath – it was time. Clint grasped your hand firmly then, elbows interlocking, and went to step out just a moment after the bridesmaids left to join the groomsmen.
Well-aware everyone was going to stare and that Steve awaited you at the end of the aisle to marry you, your legs were shaking minutely as the magnitude of the event finally dawned to you.
“Getting second thoughts now?” Clint teased you, eliciting a chuckle from you and shake of your head.
What a question.
“No. Just… please don’t let me fall,” you muttered to him, entirely serious and grateful for your choice of footwear – simple flats hidden by the long flowing skirt of your dress. Better chance of not spraining your ankle on your wedding day.
“Never.”
Clint squeezed your hand under his warm palm and you took a deep breath, stepping into the doorway. Soft melody welcomed you, your very own wedding march Bruce was playing on a mouth organ – something you had previously had no idea he was capable of.  
Looking up from your skirt, you feasted your eyes on the company and the beautiful scenery for only a regretfully short moment, grateful for Sam’s Redwing programmed to record and take photos.
Your gaze instinctively searched the small crowd instead, until it fell under the arch where three men stood.
One of them was Sam himself, having obtained a licence so he could be your wedding registrar; he looked positively dashing. So did Bucky, who patted his best friend dressed in his old-fashioned green captain uniform on the shoulder, his smirk visible even from tens feet away as he stepped back.
Naturally, your gaze lingered on Steve, your feet acting of their own accord and following your brother’s lead.
Gosh, your future husband was the most handsome and absolutely hottest specimen to ever walk the Earth. Hair combed neatly to one side and in his old army uniform, he truly looked like the gentleman from another era he was and yet, he undeniably belonged exactly where he was. His eyes were bright and blue just like the sky, lips slightly parting before curling up into a brilliant smile which somehow still carried the tenderness he treated you with when he felt particularly affectionate.
He must have uttered something under his breath, because Bucky pressed his lips together as if he was holding back laugh. The absolutely best best man, ladies and gentleman.
Your found yourself smiling just as widely, a stray tear tickling the corner of your eye and you had to fight the sudden urge to ditch Clint in order to gather your skirts and run the rest of the way just to jump into Steve’s arms.
But in reality, there was no rush – here, on the damn island Tony rented, there was so much time that one short walk meant nothing in comparison.
“Alright, maybe I’ll give you to him,” Clint whispered, making you bite the inside of your cheek so you would cackle.
Leave it to your brother he would find Steve Rogers so fine he’d be willing to give you out just to have him become a part of your family.
One corner of Steve’s lips twitched in amusement – supersoldier hearing didn’t miss the remark then. Good. Then Bucky heard it too and you had a witness just in case Clint would change his mind. Again.
Finally, with your heart almost in your throat, you reached the end of the aisle, Clint gently putting your hand into Steve’s… without letting go.
“You be nice to her, Cap. And I mean really nice, you hear? Or else-“
“Hush,” you hissed good-naturedly in your brother’s direction, winking at him before you returned your gaze to Steve. “Hey there, handsome.”
Steve chuckled under his breath when Clint stepped back. He returned the greeting with soft ‘hey there, beautiful’ and then proceeded to lift your joined hands, brushing your knuckles with his lips – just like the day you shared your first kiss.
Well now you truly found yourself on the verge of crying. And Lord, you wanted to kiss him so much-
Sam cleared his throat loudly, casting you both a meaningful look as if he could read your mind and wanted to remind you that there were a few things to go through before that could happen.
Ugh. Formalities. Just let me kiss him…
Steve licked his lips – the audacity! – and turned, lightly tugging at your hand so you both faced your friend who held a little leather book open, beckoning towards the guests: Bucky and Natasha, the best man and the best woman, Clint, Bruce, Tony, Vision, Wanda, Sharon, Pepper. Just your closest friends and family.
Sam cleared his throat again.
“Alright. We all know why we gathered here today. To get these two amazing people married, so they could officially become a special team within our team.”
You grinned, peripherally noticing Steve eyeing you as well. Team indeed.
“This is the part where I would ask all of you, bride and groom included, to speak up now if you’re aware of anything standing in the way of this wedlock or to remain silent forever. But frankly, if you have something to say, right now is the perfect time to keep it to yourself. Just let these lovebirds get married…”
Muffled laughter and giggles erupted from your group. Honestly, you wouldn’t say it better. You noticed Clint shifting and Natasha forcefully holding his hand down; you bit down on your lip so you wouldn’t laugh and sent her a grateful smile instead. The best maid of honour ever.
“Good, that’s what I wanted to hear, folks. We have the rings, correct? Great. Just so you know, these two saps asked me to read one vow which they are making to each other, because they didn’t trust themselves to say theirs individually without bursting into tears. So now it’s left to me to cry instead. Thanks for that.”
Your cheeks were honestly starting to hurt from smiling so wide, but tears prickled in your eyes acutely just at the thought of the vow you agreed on. You spent countless hours thinking about what you wanted to say and realized that your vow would be too long and that you would in fact start crying and that you could never name all the things you loved Steve for. It had been a relief to find out that Steve shared the sentiment and the deal was made.
Natasha and Bucky dutifully laid the rings on the pillow Wanda’s powers held levitating by your and Steve’s side – not without Bucky finding a split second to compliment your appearance and earning a brief smirk from Steve.
“I know,” Steve uttered and you wondered if there was a dare going around as to who would make you burst out laughing first.
This was your wedding dammit. You could be at least a bit a lady and remain collected.
Hardly.
“With this ring,” Sam started, breathing in and out and you knew you already lost, first tear rolling down your cheek as you gazed into Steve’s inviting eyes, “I give myself to you without giving up myself. With this ring, I surrender to you for I have faith you understand the value of wielding such power and for I deem you worthy of it. With this ring, I promise to love you, to respect you and to support you to be your best self as I trust you to do the same for me, for us.”
You blinked away the waterfalls, reaching almost blindly for Steve’s ring and with fingers trembling – with giddiness, not nerves – you somehow succeeded at slipping it on his left ring finger.
“I do,” you whispered, your voice cracking even in such simple sentence and the watery smile Steve graced you with made your ribcage feel too small for your swelling heart.
Fingers equally clumsy, he slipped a ring on you as well, shoulders squaring as if in pride.
“I do,” he said firmly, the damp path down his left cheek only adding severity to his vow.
“You may-- uhm, okay, you may kiss the bride, your wife--- I mean, Mrs. Rogers. You may kiss the groom, your husband…” Sam mumbled under his breath until he didn’t, because Steve pulled you in for a kiss the same moment Sam said the first ‘may’ and incidentally, the same moment you practically threw yourself at Steve.
Laughter and whistles erupted from the group of your friends as Steve bend you back dramatically, the determined press of his lips to yours not at all disrupted by the change of angle, claiming your mouth in ways that made you shudder and stirred flames in your belly.
Years and years later, you’d recall that kiss and realized an amazing thing; how it felt just like your first kiss, your last one, and every single one in between.
With you still practically horizontal, Steve’s crinkling eyes met yours, delighted smile on his kiss-swollen lips.
“I love you, Mrs. Rogers,” he hummed, adding a cheeky grin. “You’re stuck with me now.”
“The horror,” you muttered back teasingly, pulling at his nape, demanding another kiss, your own declaration whispered to his mouth. “I love you too, Mr. Rogers.”
And you did. Gosh, you did.
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S.R. masterlist
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Well. This turned out SO DIFFERENTLY than I anticipated and SO MUCH LONGER. If you feel like leaving feedback, I’ll be grateful. If not, well. *shurgs*
Excuse me while I go and continue dreaming of ONE fictional man. Ugh. Anyway.
Thank you for reading!
And once again, thanks to WIYBUPT for hosting and for just being awesome in general :)
201 notes · View notes
mochegato · 3 years
Text
Hope on Board
Chapter 30 – Written in the Stars
Chapter 1     Chapter 29
“Congratulations Officer Grayson!” Bruce boomed, raising his glass along with the rest of the room of friends and family.  A loud cheer rose up in agreement with his comment.
Dick smiled at them graciously and clinked his champagne glass with Marinette’s juice glass, pulling her closer into his side with his other hand.  Marinette squeezed him back and looked up at him with a proud smile.
“Finally, someone who can fix my tickets,” Jason cheered.
“Not going to happen. In fact, I might write more up for you. Did you know parking your motorcycle in an alleyway is a moving violation?” Dick answered with a smirk.
Jason gaped at him, every inch of him conveying the betrayal he felt until he finally looked down to Lucy in his arms with a sour look.  “Man, fuck the police.  Can you say that?  Fuck. The.  Police.” He enunciated each word slowly for her.
“Language Master Jason,” Alfred chided.
“Jason, do not teach my children to badmouth their father,” Marinette warned with an accompanying glare.
Jason huffed and returned his attention to Lucy.  “Fine whatever.  But the cursing’s okay, right, Pixie?”
“No,” Dick answered quickly before Marinette could respond.  He really wasn’t confident what her answer would be considering the language she used when she and Jason were hanging out.
“Wasn’t asking you, Dickhead,” Jason singsonged while making faces for Lucy.
“Don’t badmouth their father while they can hear you, Jason,” Marinette repeated with a sharper edge to her voice this time.  “And I’m fine with you teaching them to curse as long as you’re willing to deal with the repercussions of Alfred and my Mother finding out exactly where they learned it from.”  She shrugged casually as she said it but the smirk on her face when she looked up at Dick made it clear she knew exactly how much of a threat that was.
Jason pouted and focused on Lucy.  “Your Grandmother and Grandfather are both deceptive bad asses.  Never cross either of them.” The room broke in laughter as Alfred grinned smugly and nodded in approval.
“So what are you going to do now, Officer Grayson?” Stephanie asked as she bounced Rob to quiet his fussing.
Dick rubbed the back of his neck.  “I don’t really know.  Hang out with the family, I guess.”
“I have a celebratory dinner planned unless you have other plans, Master Dick,” Alfred stated, looking at Marinette questioningly.
Dick looked back and forth between the two of them for a moment before answering cautiously.  “I don’t think I do.  Do I?”
“It’s up to you.  I was thinking maybe we could go out for a celebratory dinner.  Together. Just the two of us,” Marinette offered quietly.
“Like on a date?” His face brightened considerably.
“If you want it to be,” she answered shyly, suddenly not able to look in his eyes.  Suddenly, it felt dangerous to offer.  Her heart was pounding.  What if he changed his mind, which was ridiculous because he still acted the same as he had when they first started dating.  But some part of Marinette, the anxiety controlled part, insisted there was still a chance, and as always happened when anxiety entered the arena, it took over, regardless of rationality.
Dick wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him, adoration shining in his eyes. “I do.”
Marinette let out a relieved sigh and an exhilarated smile spread across her face.  “Great!  I know just the place.”  A devious glint appearing in her eye.  The same look she got whenever she had come up with a brilliant plan.  She looked him up and down, taking in the dress blues he was still wearing from his Academy graduation.  “You should change before we go though.” She looked down at her dress. “I should too if we’re taking the bike.”
“I’ll watch the rug rats while you’re gone,” Jason offered as he wiggled Lucy’s hand that was wrapped around his finger.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll watch over the infants to ensure they are safe and adequately mentally stimulated while they are awake,” Damian offered loudly, a confident look on his face.
Dick raised his eyebrows in surprise at Damian and looked down to Marinette to see if he was really hearing what he thought he was.  That was by far the strangest outcome of the situation, Damian taking his position as the twins’ uncle with deathly seriousness.  He watched over them like one of his pets, until they started crying. Then the twins were their parent’s or someone else’s problem.
Marinette smiled knowingly at him and nodded almost imperceptibly to assure him that Damian was in fact offering to babysit.  Dick subtly glanced to the more responsible people in the room to see if they would be there as well.  Barbara, Alfred, and Bruce all nodded at him to assure him they would stay as well.
“I’d help too, but… I have plans,” Adrien shrugged, deftly changing the topic of conversation before another fight over who the best uncle was could break out between Jason and Damian. Which was absolutely ridiculous anyway. Clearly, he was, precisely because he did things like taking this hit.
“With Wally?” Marinette asked innocently.
“Yeah,” Adrien answered a little too breathlessly.
“Ooooooohhhhh,” Marinette teased with a knowing smirk.   Dick grinned.  He had introduced Adrien to the Titans when they stopped by to meet the twins and take a second shot at meeting Marinette, this time without them having to hide anything and with Plagg sequestered in Dick’s bedroom, nowhere near Garth.  As expected, Wally and Adrien hit it off extremely well, the enthusiastic, bubbly, romantics, that they were.
“Shut up.  It’s not like that,” he grumbled looking away from them. He wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction of seeing his lovesick expression.
“Yes, it is,” Marinette, Dick, and Stephanie all chimed at the same time.
Adrien’s cheeks blushed a deep rose color and he growled halfheartedly at them as he left.  “Good luck,” Marinette called to him.  He waved and stuck his tongue out at her as he closed the door.  Marinette giggled and turned back to Dick.  “I’m going to feed the twins while you’re changing.”
“Okay.  I’ll take a quick shower too then.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek before making his way to his bedroom.
Marinette nodded and took Lucy from Jason, who only gave her up grudgingly.  “And we’re going to get you ready, too,” Stephanie informed her as she slung her free arm over Marinette’s shoulder.
Marinette laughed and shook her head.  “We’re going to have about two hours between when they eat and when I have to be back to feed them again.  I’m not wasting any of that time on appearances.  If Dick is still willing to go on a date with me after sharing a room with me when I hadn’t showered in I don’t know how many days, he will be fine with me not having a ton of makeup on.”
“Okay fine,” Stephanie groaned before immediately brightening again.  “I’ll do stuff while you’re nursing then,” Stephanie insisted, completely ignoring Marinette’s objections.
Marinette sighed and shook her head.  This was not worth the effort.  She was not willing to put what little energy she had into debating personal boundaries and priorities with Stephanie, and apparently Cass, judging by the excited glint in her eye.  “Fine. Just don’t get any makeup or hairspray on Lucy or Rob while they’re eating.”
Stephanie squealed and handed Rob off to Barbara as she and Cass raced to her room to get everything ready. They only had about ten to fifteen minutes to treat Marinette like their own personal doll and they weren’t about to waste any of it.  Marinette looked over to Barbara and Tim with a questioning glance.  “Either of you two want to get in on this?”
Tim waved his hands in front of him.  “Hell no. I’ve seen them in this mode.  I’m not getting in the middle of that.  Good luck.”
Barbara laughed and rolled over to her.  “I’ll come to help.  At the very least I can hold one baby while you feed the other one… and laugh at you while they work their magic”
Marinette giggled at her as she rolled her eyes.  “So very magnanimous of you.”
<><><><><> 
Dick’s entire body relaxed as he sped through Gotham’s streets.  He had missed driving through the streets of Gotham with Marinette’s arms wrapped around him.  They hadn’t done it since she was only a few weeks into the pregnancy then quickly had to switch to a car when it became too dangerous and awkward for her to ride with him. He loved feeling the rush of the wind against him and the warmth of Marinette’s arms and body pulled tight against him.  The way their bodies moved in sync with one another as he turned or changed lanes.
“Make a left here,” Marinette yelled.  He nodded his acknowledgement and made the turn.  They were in a very familiar neighborhood.  “Right,” she yelled again.  He nodded again and made the turn.  They drove straight for a few blocks until Marinette yelled the final time. “We’re here.”
Dick chuckled and shook his head as he pulled off his helmet.  “Batburger?” He raised his eyebrow at her.
Marinette shrugged and pulled her helmet off as well, giving him a sweet smile.  “Thought we could try it again when I’m not pregnant.  See if it really was just the pregnancy that made it taste so good.”
“Want to eat in the park again?” he asked as he secured their helmets.  He took her hand, entwining their fingers as they walked into the restaurant.  
“Yeah, if you don’t mind,” she nodded at him.
“I think that sounds brilliant,” he assured her, pulling her against him and circling his arms around her waist.
“You ready to order or what?” the cashier asked in an annoyed voice.
Marinette giggled into Dick’s chest.  “Not a fan of romance,” she whispered.
“Two batburger deluxe meals, please,” he looked over to Marinette to get her approval.  When she nodded in agreement he returned his focus to the cashier to pay.
Their order was done in just a few minutes and a few minutes after that they were looking out over the same park and sitting on the same bench they had sat at during their first date. Marinette took her first bite and quirked her lips to the side before continuing to chew.
Dick laughed and swallowed his bite.  “So, what do you think?”
“It was definitely the pregnancy.  But it’ll do. It was more about the nostalgia.” She grinned up at him and took another bite.
“How about you?  What do you think?  Are you excited for your first day as a Gotham Police Officer?” She grinned up at him, the proud look gleaming in her eyes again.
He smiled at the look, his chest puffing out ever so slightly at the way she was looking at him.  “I am.  I’m really hoping I will be able to make a difference, within the police department more than anything else.  I think if I can make a difference there, weed out as much corruption as I can, then that will feed out into the community, more than anything I could do as a single police officer.”
Marinette nodded in agreement.  “I think you’re right.  I’m worried about you though.”
Dick grimaced and considered not telling her the next part, but he’d promised her and, more importantly, himself, that he wasn’t going to keep things from her just because it might worry her.  He took a deep breath before continuing.  “I’ve already been approached by one of the families to work for them.  Saw him talking to a few other cadets as well.”
“Dick!” Marinette gasped, eyes wide with concern.
“It’s okay,” he assured her with more calm than he felt.  “Commissioner Gordon and I expected it.  It would actually be more concerning if I didn’t get approached by anyone.”
“I know.  It just makes me nervous.” She looked down at her burger and took another bite so he wouldn’t see her concerned frown.  “Your fellow officers are supposed to have your back, not stick a knife in it.”
“I can handle myself. I’ve been trained since I was nine to take on more than a few rampant officers.”  He puffed out his chest in an exaggerated motion to distract her.  “I’m like Captain America in the elevator.  I can take on all of them with nothing more than a stick and win.”
Marinette giggled and buried her face in his shoulder trying very hard not to laugh at him.  She finally pulled her face out of his shoulder to look up at him in adoration.  “You’re better than Captain America,” she assured him.  “Just as skilled, better moves, smarter plans, better leadership, and all without the need of a super serum.”  She brushed his hair away from his forehead and traced along the side of his face down to his jaw.  “And much handsomer.”
She guided his face to hers and pressed her forehead to his.  She let out a deep breath before continuing.  “Just… make sure you come home to me, to us, every night.”  She looked back up at him with concern etched deep in her features.  “Please.”
“Every night?  Forever?” Dick asked hopefully.
Marinette paused to think about it.  That was what she had meant.  Without overthinking it, without letting anxiety dictate her thoughts, that was what she had wanted.  That was what she was asking him for.  They had been waiting so they could figure out some issues they had between them and within themselves.  Dick acted to protect without sharing.  She hid away entire parts of her life.  They both had needed to learn to open up more.  
She was ready.  She was ready to break down the last bastion of secrecy hidden in the depths of a magical fortification.  If Dick wanted, she was ready to let him in.  The question was whether he was ready.
She nodded slowly, her forehead still pressed against his, her breath fanning across his face.  “I’m ready.  I’m ready to move forward, but I don’t want to rush you.  I don’t want to rush us if we aren’t both ready.  I want to make sure we last.”
Dick grinned and ran his knuckles along her cheek.  “We’ll last.  It was written in the stars.  The universe brought us together.  And we’ll take on the universe if it tries to tear us apart.”
“And win,” Marinette giggled affectionately, the smile on her face brilliant and hopeful.
Dick grinned against her lips.  “And win,” he agreed solemnly.  “That’s a very important part.”  She grinned at him and gently brushed her lips against his.  She started to pull away but he followed her, pressing his lips against hers more urgently.  She pushed back against him, bunching her fists into his shirt, pulling him closer with it.  He wound his arms around her waist, pulling her into his lap.
She whimpered against his mouth as his hand moved up her back until it wound into her hair.  The sound made his heart race.  God, he had missed this feeling, the feeling of her lips against his, of her body against his, the exhilaration her sounds produced in him. He missed knowing she was his to touch, that she wanted him to do it.  He missed the way they fit, like a perfectly engineered puzzle box, each piece fitting into the other so precisely, anything else felt wrong.  
She moved her arms around his neck, working her fingers into his hair to pull him closer.  She needed to be closer.  She had missed his warmth and the way he touched her and now she couldn’t get enough. She needed more.  She tilted her head to deepen the kiss, opening her mouth to grant him access.  She moaned as his hands traced her face and worked down her sides and back up her back.
She finally pulled away breathless after a few minutes and smirked at him.  “Definitely more enjoyable without the nausea.”  She rested her head against his neck as she fought to recover her breathing.
“Glad to hear it,” he laughed.  He hugged her closer to him, keeping his arms tight around her.  “I missed kissing you,” he whispered as if afraid to break a spell.
Marinette grinned and kissed his neck.  “Me too. I missed kissing you, hugging you, being held by you,” she looked pointedly at their situation, “sitting in your lap, calling you my boyfriend.”
He hummed in agreement and nuzzled his head against hers.  “I’d prefer fiancé or husband, but I’ll take boyfriend for now.”  He smiled thinking of the ring he already had stuffed away in his drawer.  
“You’re ready for that move?” she pulled away in surprise.
“I’ve been ready for months.  Even after our fight, I’ve never changed my mind.  I love you Marinette.  I am completely, utterly, ridiculously, unapologetically in love with you.”  He leaned down to kiss her, slowly, sweetly, passionately.  “I know what I want my future to be.  I’m just waiting for you to decide if it’s what you want too.”
Marinette stared at him in awe.  She shook her head and buried it in his neck again as tears began to fall.  “Marinette?” he asked carefully, trying to pull away far enough to look her in the eye.  He wasn’t expecting tears.  That was… a concerning reaction.  He didn’t think suggesting they eventually marry would make her cry.  Damn it, way to kill the mood just as they were getting back to a great place.
She took a breath to steady herself, a breath that very much smelled like Dick. She pulled away enough to look up at him, love shining in her eyes.  “I don’t know exactly what I want for my future, but every time I picture it, you’re there with me.  Every iteration of it you’re there with me.  Sometimes with just Lucy and Rob, sometimes with more kids.  Sometimes in the manor, sometimes in our own place.  Sometimes in Gotham, sometimes somewhere else.  Sometimes I’m running a major fashion label, sometimes I’ve become a WE employee.  Sometimes you’re still an officer, sometimes you’re a detective.  But every version, every iteration, you’re there with me.  I know that much.  That’s all I know.  I love you and I want my future to be with you.”
He examined her eyes to look for any indication of uncertainty in her words, but her eyes were confident and adoring.  He surged forward to capture her lips in another searing, breathtaking kiss. The moan she let out into his mouth made his body react viscerally.  They needed to get somewhere more private before they continued.  “Maybe we should take this home and away from prying eyes,” he gasped out when he was finally able to force himself to break away.  She nodded wordlessly, still trying to catch her breath.
<><><><><> 
“Perfect timing,” Barbara smiled at them.  Lucy was rooting into her chest searching for something to latch onto. “They just started fussing and searching for milk in places they won’t find it.”
Marinette laughed and took her from Barbara.  “Sorry about that.”
“No problem.  I feel worse for her.  She’s never going to find what she’s looking for here.  Hate to be a disappointment.”
“If it makes you feel better, they find me to be just as much of a disappointment,” Dick offered.  “No milk, no value.”  He shrugged.
“Come here, sweetie.  Don’t let them shame you for knowing what you want.”  She stuck her tongue out at them and left the room with a smile.  
Dick picked up Rob from Duke with a smile and a nod of thanks.  “Anytime,” he shrugged as he handed Rob off.  “So… how did it go?”
“Hm?” Dick responded absentmindedly, checking Rob to see if his clothes needed to be changed too or just his diaper.
“How did it go?  How did the date go?” Stephanie elaborated annoyed by his lack of attention.
“Oh,” Dick’s eyes brightened and he grinned excitedly.  “It went brilliantly.  We’re back together and we know where we want to go with our future.”
“So… proposing within the year or within a few months?” Tim asked with a smirk.
“Pft. Knowing Dickieboy, within a few hours,” Jason scoffed popping a handful of popcorn into his mouth.
Dick ticked his head to the side.  “Considered it, but I want to make it romantic.”  He turned to Tim with a wink.  “Give me a few days.  Come on, Rob. Let’s get you changed and ready for Mommy.  Night guys.” He smiled at them as he carried Rob to the family bedroom.
“Have fun tonight,” Stephanie called after him with a laugh.
“No more babies tonight,” Jason called immediately after.  “Turn the movie up.  I don’t want to hear them ignoring me,” he grumbled to Duke.
Dick made it up to the family bedroom just in time to change Rob’s diaper, reswaddle him, and switch Lucy for Rob so Marinette could nurse him.  She took him with a smile.  “Did I hear Jason yelling?”
“Yeah, he was just saying how happy he was that we’re back together,” Dick assured her with a laugh.
Marinette chuckled then immediately quieted when the movement startled Rob. “Sorry Rob,” she cooed at him.
Dick swaddled Lucy quickly and laid her down in her crib.  “How about I set up a movie in the other room?” he whispered into her ear as he gently ran his hand over Rob’s head.
Marinette hummed in appreciation and pressed her head against his.  “That sounds wonderful,” she whispered back.
He kissed her temple and quickly made his way to his bedroom.  He pulled out a few fuzzy blankets and navigated to a movie he thought she would like.  He ran down to the living room where the rest of the family was and grabbed one of their bowls of popcorn and a few drinks.  “Thanks,” he called out to them as he ran away before anyone could stop him. He set up the popcorn and drinks on the side table and propped up a few more pillows for them to lean against while they watched the movie, if they did in fact watch the movie, though he really hoped they would be too busy doing something else.
He kicked off his shoes and double checked that everything looked perfect. Assured that it was, he made his way back to the family bedroom.  He had expected Marinette to be done already and come find him.  He silently opened the door to check on them and smiled at the scene in front of him.  That was why Marinette hadn’t come to find him.  She had fallen asleep nursing Rob.  Rob was lazily sucking at her breast in his sleep.  Dick shook his head at her.
Dick picked up Rob and put him back in his crib.  He fussed sleepily for a few seconds, trying to get back to the nipple, but quickly fell back asleep.  Marinette opened her eyes at the movement, arms reaching out to keep Robert from falling. She looked up at Dick with a hazily confused look.  “What’s going on?”
Dick smiled at her and made his way back to her, picking her up in a princess hold and carrying her to her bed.  “We have the rest of our lives to watch a movie or do anything else.  Tonight, I think you need sleep,” he told her quietly as he gently laid her down, pulling a blanket over her.
She hummed in response and pulled the blanket closer around her.  He kissed her cheek and ran his fingers over her face lovingly before pulling away to get ready for bed.  Before he could move away from her, she caught his hand and pulled him down next to her.  She looked up at him with soft, affection filled eyes.  “Please stay?”
Dick’s heart stuttered at the request, so open and vulnerable and filled with love. He smiled at her and climbed into bed next to her as she lifted the blanket for him.  “Always,” he whispered into her hair.  He settled in behind her and gently pulled her against him, feeling her warmth against him as she curled into him and he curled around her in a perfect harmony.
The End
Tags:
@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @golden-promises @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @laurcad123 @lady-bee-fechin @thewitchwhowaited @redscarlet95 @jayjayspixiepop @alessialeone6997
141 notes · View notes
hufflepuffhollander · 4 years
Text
5 times it didn’t, 1 time it did: tom holland imagine
a/n | this is my first submission for @hollandsrecs​ 1k bingo event! the prompt was “5 times, 1 time”, a concept you’ll soon understand! I really enjoyed writing this and got really in my Feelings™ listening to Mean it by Gracie Abrams (give it a listen). 
summary: Tom keeps missing his chance to make things right with you after rumors spread about an affair with one of his costars. 
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tom x fem reader | contains angst for days, language, and resolution fluff | word count: 2.2k | enjoy!
“I can’t believe you.”
“What, what can’t you believe?”
“You told me you’d never let the tabloids come in between our relationship.”
“As far as I’m concerned, they haven’t. You’re still sitting here, aren’t you?”
“In our apartment? Seriously?”
“What do you want from me?”
“To call your publicist or your manager or whoever the hell will be able to shut all this shit down.”
“It’s the internet, y/n. You can’t ‘shut it down’. What’s out there is out there.”
“Why are you being so apathetic about this?”
“Why is it such a big deal?”
“Half the country thinks you’re dating your costar and that I’m a desperate sidepiece.”
“You know you’re not.”
“But they don’t.”
“So?”
“Is it so hard to come out and say that it’s not true?”
“People will think what they want regardless of what I say.”
“You know what, fuck this.”
You got off the couch, throwing your hands up in defeat.
“I don’t know why I have to try so hard to convince you to make this relationship a priority.”
Tom sighed heavily, starting to get off the couch and follow you out of the room, but receded and stayed planted. He wanted to say something that would make you turn around and come back, something to figure it out. To tell you that you were a priority, really his first one. But he didn’t know how to say that, and he stayed silent.
He could’ve apologized, and he didn’t. This was the first time you’d ever walked out of an argument without resolving the problem and ending it with a hug and mutual I-love-you’s. It took all of your gathered strength to keep facing forward and walk further and further away from him, instead of running back, folding into his arms and seeking out the comfort that was his body heat. It epically sucked that he had the power to make you both the angriest and happiest you ever knew how to feel.
You and Tom went to sleep that night silently, staying a hundred feet apart in your queen sized bed, backs turned towards each other. You hated feeling the draft between your loose shirt and bare back — he hated not being able to fall asleep inhaling your shampoo with his head against the back of yours. You stayed awake listening to the silence, hoping he’d speak. Hoping he’d say he was sorry, that he’d fix it. But all he did was yawn, or sigh, or stretch out and pull his hand back like it had been burned when he accidentally grazed your arm. You were both miserable, but he still didn’t apologize, second opportunity to fix things passing by as soon as it had come.
The next morning, you woke up later than you meant to and couldn’t avoid Tom waking up next to you, making inevitable eye contact as you’d naturally shuffled closer together in your sleep, like your bodies were ready for a closure your minds weren’t ready to come to.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
Your phone buzzed and you made the mistake of checking it. More and more notifications poured in from friends asking if you and Tom were still together, “who this costar bitch thought she was”, seeing how you were handling it. You realized still nothing had been done about it, and the same nasty feelings from the day before resurfaced anew. Tom saw your face drop and rolled onto his back, pretending to be interested in the ceiling.
“Plans today?” he asked.
“Just doing damage control and convincing infinite circles of friends that I’m not suddenly single and in a downward spiral behind closed doors,” you responded, sounding harsher than you meant to.
He put his hands over his face.  “If they really were your friends they wouldn’t have to ask,” he said bluntly. Your belly filled with a dull fire.
“Is that really the angle you’re gonna take right now?” you said, trying to ignore the tears preemptively pinpricking the corners of your eyes. Tom realized he had played the asshole card when he turned to see your face painted with hurt, and again, tried to spit out the words that he was sorry. But he didn’t, and his third chance flew out the open window. You shivered at the draft, and Tom went to instinctively wrap his arms around you, but stopped himself when you looked at him puzzled, as he couldn’t handle doing really anything when he saw how gray your eyes looked.
“y/n, I think this has gotten-“
“Save it,” you said, swiftly getting out of bed. You didn’t care to be insulted another time before 9 am, or feel your attachment to the love of your life sever a little more before you’d even brewed your coffee. You threw on the first thing you found, tied your hair up, grabbed your bag and then your keys.
“I’ll see you before the interview later.”
Truthfully, Tom’s talk show interview tonight was hours and hours away, but you wanted to avoid another emotional hit from him as long as possible.
Tom felt his chest sink as he heard the lock click after you. Why couldn’t he just apologize? Was it that hard? Sure, he didn’t agree with you. The tabloids always blew any gossip they could create out of proportion, turning every friendly hug between friends into a lover’s affair. But addressing it to the public only ever just fanned the fire. He didn’t want to give in to the pressure, but could see how it was starting to break you.
You walked into your flat with barely enough time to get ready after a long, tiring day of thinking and overthinking, wanting nothing more than to come home and be with your best friend, to cry to him about your problems and let him kiss and cuddle the pain away. Never before had he actually been the problem, though. That was uncharted territory, and you were afraid to see him tonight and face either inevitable fighting or excruciating silence. You met at the car and got in wordlessly. Only once you’d pulled onto the highway did Tom decide to speak.
“I think we need to talk about what’s been going on, yeah?”
“I guess so.”
“I just want you to understand that my not saying anything publicly doesn’t mean I’m not denying the rumors being spread. Staying silent is taking a stand, in a way.”
“In a way,” you said quietly. You really didn’t want to ruin your makeup before the show and hoped staying soft would keep the emotional floodgates from breaking open.
“I’m trying not to add fuel to the fire, love,” he said, placing a hand on your thigh. You stared down at that hand you loved and didn’t respond.
“I feel like I have no dignity left.”
He exhaled and frowned.
“Do you know what people are saying about me?” you squeaked without meaning to.
“I’ve told you to stop reading all those articles.”
“Right, because that’s the problem.” You rolled your eyes and moved your leg away from under his hand. He awkwardly placed it on the gear shift and didn’t dare to look at you for fear of breaking down himself.
“I just wish you’d stand up for me.”
“I’m doing it in my own way,” he trailed off. But that wasn’t good enough for you.
“And you can’t see that maybe that’s not enough?”
“I-“ He was about to say sorry — you could’ve sworn you hear the first syllable. But a car in front changed lanes and cut him off.
“Fucker.” 
After that wise remark, silence. Fourth chance to apologize up in smoke. You looked out the window and said nothing until you pulled up to the studio entrance. You saw lines of flashing bulbs of cameras, news trucks and reporters. Why did everything have to be such a thing? Tom cleared his throat and turned to you.
“y/n, love, go ahead and get out here and I’ll meet you inside.”
You looked back at Tom blankly.
“We’re not going in together?”
“I don’t want to subject us to all the paps out there,” he said, refusing to make eye contact. “If you go alone, my security team can cover you. They can’t cover us both.”
Your whole body felt cold. “Are...are you serious?”
It looked like telling you to face the crowd without him was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. So why was he doing it?
“I’ll meet you inside-“
You cut him off by loudly undoing your seatbelt and putting your heels on, shooting daggers at him the whole time.
“I should’ve stayed home.” You opened the car door and got out.
“y/n, I’m-” You slammed the door shut before you could hear the rest of his words. Five chances he had to make it right, five times he absolutely blew it. You weren’t sure this was something you even wanted anymore. How could you clearly mean so little to him when he was your everything?
~
“...and give it up for Tom Holland!” the audience cheered wildly at the sight of your boyfriend walking out on stage, shaking the host’s hand and waving with a bright-eyed and cheery smile at the crowd. You’d chosen a smart seat in the back so as to hide from anyone who might recognize you — you were not in the mood to socialize, and frankly, if Tom didn’t currently have the only set of car keys, you would’ve driven yourself home. You could see him scanning the audience until his eyes landed on you, and you stared at him with an expression completely unfeeling, blinking slowly until he turned away. 
He continued to woo the host and the crowd with his heartfelt answers and funny anecdotes, but even you were immune to his charm tonight. You felt detached, alone. You wondered how you’d spent so long with this boy who had no respect for you or how you felt.
“So, not to put you on the spot, but-”
“Uh oh,” Tom laughed, the audience along with him.
“No, no, bear with me,” the host chuckled. “I’m sure you’re no stranger to all the rumors going around about this relationship you’ve gotten into with your costar in the new Spiderman movie coming out next year, can you give us any inside scoop on that?”
Tom shuffled in his chair looking uneasy, running a hand through his already messy hair, a telltale sign that he was nervous. You hated how well you knew him.
“I mean, I don’t like to give into all the gossip,” he said, trying to play it off. “But if you want to talk about the movie-”
“We will, we will! But you know what we all really care about...” the host laughed, pushing Tom to keep talking.
“Look, we’ve all grown close on set, like a little family. And I can’t believe I even have to say this, but no, I’m not an item with any one of my costars, or fellow actors, or anyone famous for that matter,” his face started to splotch pink, and you sat up in your seat. What was he doing?
“Well sorry to pry-” the host started, but Tom kept talking, now faster, lips not able to keep up with his brain.
“The amount of stress all the rumors have put on me and the people I care about is insane and unfair, and nobody has taken it harder than my actual girlfriend, who is right there in the audience,” he said, and you cursed him for causing a hundred chairs to squeak as heads swiveled towards you. “It all has her constantly feeling hated and unimportant and questioning our relationship, which I can’t stand, because I love her more than anything, I do, and I hate to see her so upset when there’s just nothing I can do about people gossiping.” You hear scattered “aww”s come from around you.
“I’ve been quiet for too long about it, which I thought was the right thing to do. But I was wrong. She deserves to hear me tell the world that I am with her, and only her, and that’s not changing,” he says, finally taking a breath. Tom looks at you, eyes watery, and sighs, as the audience coos and applauds. He mouths a clear “I’m sorry” that only you see, and you feel that cold draft start to melt, letting yourself give him a small smile in return. He finishes the interview and you meet him backstage at the end.
When he sees you walking towards him, Tom picks up speed and pulls you into a hug immediately, both arms underneath yours, almost picking you up off the ground. You hate to admit it, but it feels so good to be back where you rightfully belong. You lean into his body and hug him back. He kisses your cheek and rests his face against yours. “You know how much I love you, right?”
“I know. You finally apologized.”
“I know.”
“Took you long enough.”
He pulled back and smiled at you, leaning in and kissing you softly. He cupped your face with both of his hands and wiped away a small tear that was harbored between your eyelashes.
“I’ll go on a million more talk shows and do it again if it means you’ll forgive me.”
“That’s a start,” you both giggle and he kisses you again. “Can we go home?”
“Of course, love.”
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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years
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Day two of the Horror on Cherry Lane Challenge! Today’s prompt is Rib Cage.
warnings for mentions of disordered eating.
It’s been a problem since he was young. Momma’s little projection of insecurity and status.
Steve doesn’t eat. Not when he can help it. And he’s good at hiding it too.
He wears concealer to cover the bags under his eyes. He goes and gets highlights in his hair to hide how dull and greasy it is. He brushes his teeth at least six times a day to hide the damage from the purging. And he buys his pants a size too big to pretend he’s not getting thinner.
But as good as he is at pretending, Billy’s even better at reading people.
Since November and getting put in his place by his step sister, Billy’s been an observer. The role of instigator went to Tommy while Billy sits atop his throne and just, takes it in. A dynamic not so different to what Steve once had with Tommy.
But it means he notices everything that goes down in his kingdom, and especially everything concerning Steve Harrington.
Steve doesn’t even notice at first that Billy has noticed him, not from the little remarks and the stares that last a little too long. It’s obvious, but he doesn’t get it. Doesn’t see what it is that draws his attention to him.
Not until Billy steps down from his royal court to confront him in the locker rooms.
Steve’s been avoiding the showers after practice for a long time. It’s bad enough being surrounded by that many other boys, all more fit than him in one way or another, but as if that isn’t enough, he has to show himself too. The second he takes his shirt off, everyone’ll know what he’s up to.
He’s proud of his body. He’s proud of having earned his beauty. But he’s humiliated by the questions. Be it the faux concern or the mockery he’s more than used to, he just wants nothing to do with it.
So he lingers, on the court talking to coach, pretending to be searching for something in his bag. Anything to keep him from having to face the nagging.
But Billy notices, because of course he does. And he sits on the bench between the lockers all smug like. Waiting for Steve to run out of excuses so he can corner him.
It works, after Steve digs through his locker for some imaginary object for the dozenth time, he sighs and turns to Billy, “You gonna keep starin’ at me, Hargrove? What’re you even still doing here?”
“Coach asked me to stay’n lock up. What’s your problem, man?” Billy hums casually, like he doesn’t even care how much he’s bothering Steve. It’s something he’s probably used to by now anyways.
If only he knew what that indifferent assailed routine did to Steve. He buries that for now though, to argue, “You seem to be the one with a problem.”
Billy snarks right back, “Ain’t wrong about that. But I was watchin’ you at practice. What’s wrong with your ribs?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re crossin’ your arms over your chest. You’re breathin’ all shallow like. You won’t even take your shirt off and get in the damn shower. Someone kick your ass Harrington?”
“No, no. That’s.. not it.”
“Uh-huh. Say the word n’I’ll put a stop to it. S’it Hagan? I told him to get off your case, man” Billy tries to convince him into admitting something, not knowing exactly what it is, but Steve shuts him down again, trying not to think too much about the concern in the other boys tone and expression.
“Seriously, dude. It’s just.. it’s me.”
“Right. ‘Cause you knocked your own self around like that. Lemme see it, Harrington.” Billy motions vaguely to Steve’s ribs, where the imaginary injury is, making his chest seize, flinching back from the touch that doesn’t land.
“No. No fucking way.”
“C’mere.” Before Steve can tell him no again, Billy steps forward and touches his ribs. His face looks sort of defeated when he doesn’t make Steve flinch or wince, clearly wrong, as Steve already knew, about the presence of a bruise.
His fingers gently linger though, tracing over each bone as they protrude through pale skin. It sends a shiver through Steve’s spine, and a spike of anger into his heart. Before Billy even opens his mouth, he knows he’s seen through him.
Knows Billy noticed that, just a month shy of the year anniversary of the fight, his body has changed far too drastically for it to be natural, or otherwise normal. His face softens in a way that’s so distinctly not-Billy, it makes Steve want to never see him that way again, “Steve..”
“Fuck off.”
But it’s too late, “Why’re you doin’ it?”
“Leave me alone, Hargrove. For real.”
“Don’t be stubborn, man. Lemme help you.”
“You don’t even know me, douchebag. I’m fine so just stop it.” Steve insists, panic rising in his chest, making his breath come out short and his throat real tight.
Billy doesn’t relent though.
“Yeah? Well I do know you’re starving yourself.” Billy counters, his tone surprisingly animated. It’s almost make Steve feel special if Billy wasn’t being an ass, “Used to think the school lunches were just below you. Thought your ass was too expensive for cold pizza like the rest of us ate. But I get it now. S’why you don’t drink either isn’t it?”
“Okay, you’ve been stalking me?”
“Just been keepin’ an eye on my competition. N’I don’t much like it when my competition starts gettin’ too depressed to even put up a damn fight.” It’s obvious Billy’s using that as a cover for something deeper that Steve doesn’t get, wishing Billy would just come out and say it already.
“Well I’m not much of a threat. Never was.” He prompts, but what Billy responds with instead instead is, “Exactly, and whose fault is that?”
Steve raises his eyebrows, surprised by the venom behind Billy's words. He’s even more surprised when Billy tears into him again, “M’serious. You’re wasting yourself away. It’s no damn wonder you can’t keep up anymore.”
That stings. “I thought you were getting better, but you’re clearly still an asshole.”
“And I thought you were alright to begin with. But I guess we’re both wrong.”
“So what the hell do you want me to say? Thank you my savior for savin’ me from myself?”
“Would you let me?” It’s not the answer Steve is expecting, the way Billy’s been acting since he confronted him, and he makes sure he knows, asking, “What?”
“Would you let me help you? Save you from what you’re doing?” Billy tries again, and it’s even more blindsiding this time.
“Like you even could. You said it yourself, Hargrove. I’m kicking my own ass here. You can’t help me.”
“I bet I could. You need someone in your corner.” Steve opens his mouth to argue, but Billy cuts him off quickly, “That curlyheaded kid don’t count. You need someone to look out for you. I’d let you be King again if it stopped this from happening.”
“But why would you?”
“I got my reasons.”
“Then just fucking tell me. If it’s good, I might think about it.”
“Look, I like you Harrington. I ain’t gonna stand by and watch you do this to yourself. Why’d you think I was checkin’ up on you in the first place?”
“To rub it in my fucking face that I’m unstable or some shit. Try to get dirt on me so you can make my life even more miserable.”
“What do I gotta do to show ya I really care then?” Billy sighs, but Steve hardly has the mind to detect his frustration, because he’s suddenly hung up by this declaration, simple to Billy but astroninal to him, “Wait- care? You mean, you don’t just like me in the same way everyone likes King Steve?”
“No. I meant it in the other way, Steve. The way I’m not so good at saying with words. The way I’ve trying to show you since we made things right. But I guess I’m not really good at this crush shit either.” Billy’s so bashful, so genuine, Steve knows he’s being honest, but some part of him can’t process it still.
“Oh.” Steve shakes his head, can’t believe it long enough to even look Billy in the eyes and deny it, “No-No you don’t. You’re fucking with me.”
“I do and I’m not. And that’s exactly why I’m not gonna sit around and watch this- this slow death you’re putting yourself through.”
Suddenly, this whole conversation goes from frustrating and pissing him off, to embarrassing. Like Billy's perception of him somehow changed his own. It’s funny how he was willing to argue with an enemy, but the second that other motive came into play, Steve finds himself flustered and trying to cover his tracks with a declaration of, “It’s not even that bad.”
But Billy continues to be a sweet talker, and he begs, all gentle and considerate, “Then let me fix it before it is. Please, Steve?”
“Okay.. okay.” Steve nods, biting the corner of his nail as he thinks, regretting it and shoving his hands in his pocket instead. He starts, after a moment of trying to collect his thoughts, “Just- Billy?”
“Yeah?”
“I like you too. That’s the only reason I’m accepting this.”
“Fine by me. How ‘bout I follow you back to yours tonight? Keep an eye on you still. Keep my promise too.” Billy offers, tone somewhat hopeful.
In response, Steve smiles shakily, so nervous his heart pounds in his chest. His ribs feel weak against its rhythm, like his chest could cave in from the combination of nerves and admiration, at knowing someone actually cared for him. He’s never felt more fragile than he does for Billy.
“I would like that a lot, Billy.”
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levis-hazelnut · 3 years
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Summary: when you and your best friend, Hanji, were younger, you had made up stories about your dream guys - what they would look like and how you would meet. What happens when the one you had made up appears to be real?
Warning(s): I don’t think there are any in this chapter. But, please do tell me if there are any.
Taglist (closed!): @castellandiangelo
Status: completed!
part 2 > part 3 > part 4
series masterlist
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With every step he took, I slowly felt the tension rise and awkwardly stood there, slurping on my iced drink. "Eren, you know Levi. And, these two are Isabel and Farlan," I announced and gestured to introduce themselves. "Hi, Eren!" the hyper girl smiled. "Nice to meet you," the more composed, blonde male replied. As those three spoke, I stood opposite Levi. "Looks like we ended up going bowling after all," I smiled, easing the tension. "Is your argument with Eren over?" "I guess, yeah... Anyway, it's my turn now. What lane are you on?" "We're a few lanes apart. Make sure you don't cry if you miss me too much, darlin'."
I playfully rolled my eyes and said a small 'bye' to all of them as they went to play as well. I approached Eren to see him smiling, which made me frown. "Why are you smiling?" "Because those two people are nice. Now, I get why you're so comfortable with them." "Does that mean you don't have any problems now?" "No. Isabel and Farlan weren't made up, correct?" he asked and I nodded. "So, I don't care if you hang out with them because there isn't anything fishy about them like there is about Levi." "Tch. Fine. I don't want to argue again and I understand what you're saying, so let's carry on. We still have a few more turns." Now, it was me who was throwing a ball and Eren who slurped the slushie, making his tongue blue, which he was yet to find out. I squealed when I knocked down all ten of the pins and did a little victory dance, no matter how embarrassing it was. I looked at Eren to get his praise; I got a grin and messy hair since he decided to ruffle it. An inaudible huff left my lips as I fixed my hair, using my phone's black screen. "... I'm getting kind of hungry," I stated as I stood behind the brunette, watching the bowling ball roll towards the pins. "Let's finish this game then go and eat. What are you feeling?" "Hmm... I don't mind. You choose." "I don't mind either." "I don't understand how we've made any decisions together. We’re so indecisive" I joked and I heard a small puff of air leave his nose as he smiled. "Anyway, let's go somewhere close by." I picked up my phone and began to look for food places near us. "(Y/N), it's your turn." "Okay. Here, look for a place to eat." I shoved my phone into his hands and picked up a ball, getting ready to throw it. "Hi, darlin'," a voice whispered, very close to my ear which made me jump and accidentally drop the ball, with a bang, and it decided to make its journey down the lane. "Levi!" I pouted. "Don't do that, you prick, you ruined my chances of getting a strike. What are you even doing here?" "I'm getting drinks, and to do that, I have to go past here. Also, you might want to look at how many pins are left,” he told me, so I looked towards where he was motioning and a grin planted on my lips. I got another strike! "Bye." "I still hate you for scaring me." "I know you don't," he smirked and walked away. "Hey, are you up for some pizza?" Eren questioned, causing Levi's smirk to dissipate in my mind and I faced him, strolling towards him and sipping on the beverage that he held. "Yeah, sure. It's your last turn, by the way," I told him, taking the drink and my phone from his hands. "Oh, okay. Aw, you have so many more points than me." "Do you know why?" "Because you're/I'm amazing," we both said at the same time, causing a laugh to erupt from my mouth before a smirk settled onto my lips. Eren was able to knock down nine which he cursed at. One pin was always almost impossible to hit. "Good luck~" I sang teasingly. Soon, nothing was in his hold as we both watched the ball roll on the floor, making its way in the correct direction towards the last pin. The ball brushed it. It wobbled. And it slowly fell. I playfully punched his bicep with a smile. "Well done." "Thanks." "I'm going to go say bye to them." He nodded and followed me towards the trio. Isabel was the first to spot us and she grinned and waved. I love her energy; she's somehow always able to be enthusiastic, I seriously wonder how. "Hey, we're going to go." "Aw, okay. Hope you had fun with your boyfriend." "Uh, no, he's not my boyfriend. He's my friend." "But why does he have his arm around you?" I didn't even realise since he does that most of the time, it became a norm to me. "... Don't know. It's just a thing he does." "Her shoulders are the right height for me to rest my arm on," Eren spoke. "Wow, so you're just using me as an armrest?" "Yeah." I gave his chest a light push and he chuckled quietly, coming back to my side. "Anyway, I'll see you guys next week." "Bye, (Y/N)! Bye, Eren!" "Bye," the male beside me smiled. "See you later," Farlan said. "And, I'll see your annoying ass on Monday, Ackerman." "The same goes to you, darlin'." "Are you going to wear that same unicorn shirt?" I smirked as his glare burned into my very soul. "Don't bring that up again." Eren and I left with a wave and his arm came back on my shoulders. "... Why does he call you darling?" "Eren, don't. I'm not in the mood to talk about anything negative. I just want to enjoy this day without any conflict." "Fine." ~/~ "Nope." "Aw, (Y/N), please," Hanji begged as I ignored her and stepped into my room, closing the door behind me and locking it so she can't come in. "It was a party you planned so don't bring me into this. You clean up after your guests." "Why're you being so mean? You'd normally help me out." "Yeah, I'm just not in the mood today. I thought we already established that if it's your guests then you clean up. I wasn't even home so don't drag me into this." I heard a sigh of defeat from Hanji and some footsteps padding away from my room. Finally, I could just rest without interacting with humans. Yeah, I had fun with Eren today, but ever since I walked into my university in the morning, I wanted to be home. Once I changed into my pyjamas, I turned off the lights and nestled under the covers, staring at the ceiling for a while before getting interrupted by my phone since someone decided to call me. "Hello?" "Hey, (Y/N)~" Jean’s voice sounded. "Idiot," I whispered to myself. "Are you drunk?" "Yes... But not that much. I'm not going to have a mad hangover or forget everything once I wake up." "Okay. So, why did you call me?" "I wanted to hear your voice," he muttered. "Also, we only spoke at lunch today. That's not enough time to talk." "Are you at home?" "Yeah, I took the bus." "What do you want to talk about, then?" "I don't know. Even if you don't talk, it's fine. I just want your company..." he mumbled. "I missed you over the month I was gone, you know." "Mhm. I missed you, too." "And I miss having you near me all the time like I did when we were dating. Do you miss it as well?" "... You still have me and you aren't going to lose me." "Do you miss it?" he repeated. "I don't know what you want me to say, Jean." "I want you to say the truth." "... No, I don't," I admitted. "But that's only because I can still talk to you and act normal around you. The only thing that's different from our relationship is that we don't give each other affection. I mean, you still flirt with me, but I know you only do it as a joke." "Thank you for being honest with me, (Y/N)," he murmured, giving me a hint that he was falling asleep. "Jean, I think you should sleep. It's late," I told him in a quiet voice and I heard him hum. "Yeah, okay. Night, (Y/N)." "Goodnight, Jean." And with that, I hung up, letting out a huff. Starting to feel bad, I called Hanji (since I wasn't bothered to get out of bed) and she answered five seconds later. "Hey, Hanji, do you still need help?" "It's fine. I'm nearly done," she spoke in a hushed voice, which is something I rarely hear. "Are you sure?" "I mean, it would be helpful, but I'm guessing you're already in bed." "Yeah, well, now I'm standing up. I'll come and help you." "Thank you." "You can cut the phone now, I'm right next to you," I smiled and she softly laughed. We both did the last few things like brooming, which I did, as she put dishes in the dishwasher. Few words were exchanged but we were both tired so it was understandable. I wiped down any surfaces and put things back in their places, like cushions or any kind of furniture. "Hanji, did you see how much Jean drank?" "Not much. He was a bit tipsy but I'm sure he got home fine. Why?" "He called me, sounding drunk but he said he didn't drink that much. And then, he started to tell me that he misses our relationship before asking me if I did." "Did you say yeah?" "No. He wanted the truth so I wasn't going to lie. I doubt he heard what I said, though, because he sounded like he was going to knock out." "... I think he still has feelings for you. He hasn't dated anyone else and he persistently flirts with you. Maybe he wasn't happy with the breakup, but decided to go along with it to make you happy." "I was thinking that as well. I don't want him to stop himself from moving on but I don't know what to do." "Talk to him about it. Most things are solved by words." "But what do I say? 'Get over me and go date some bitch'?" "Along the lines of that. Just not rudely and don't call a girl 'some bitch'." "Anyway, are you done? I'm going to go to bed now." "Yeah, go. Thanks for helping me." "No problem." I walked inside my room, quietly closing the door and plopping down onto my bed, once again snuggling under my covers and eventually falling into a deep sleep. ~/~ "I'm so glad we get to go out since we barely hang out. I only see you around but we never have time to speak," the strawberry-blonde female piped beside me and I smiled at her, thinking the same. "I know. How's everything going for you?" "Great. Though, I have a project to work on. Thankfully, they're giving us two weeks to do it. What about you?" "Nothing important. Just going to lectures as usual." "... I've been wanting to ask for a while now... You know that guy, Levi, you've been hanging out with...?" "Go on." "I was wondering if he was single." I nodded slowly, forcing a smile onto my lips as we strolled around, going no place in particular. "Yeah, he is." Oh, Petra was so much more beautiful than me. So much smarter than me. So much more pleasant to hang out with than me. And, she also happened to have her eyes on the same man as me. "Well, I was kind of thinking of asking him out. Could you help me out since you seem close to him?" Another thing, it's been two months since I met him and Eren had given me permission to be all over him (not really, but you know what I mean) and he gave me Levi's number. This was such great timing, I could just squeal in excitement... Yeah, right *eye roll* But I can't stop others from asking him out since I don't want to. "Of course. He deserves someone like you." Oh, how much I wanted to rip my lips off my face so I didn't have to fake smile. "Aw, thank you so much." But Petra was a wonderful girl who also deserves Levi. They'd make such a perfect couple, it makes me want to cry just by thinking of it. However, I'm still going to stick by my promise and help her. Even if they end up getting married, I'll carry on smiling because I'll be happy for them as I slowly die internally. A hand was placed on my shoulder, knocking me out of my daze. Instinctively, I twisted around and thrust my fist into the gut of the jerk who decided to put their nasty hands on me. I heard a groan, I saw his face, and I bit back a smile and apologised. "Sorry," I snorted. "Are you secretly part of some gang or something?" he managed to speak with a strained voice as he clutched his stomach. I giggled at his response as we moved to the side to get out of people's way. "No. I thought you were some pervert." "I'm the pervert? Think before you speak, darlin'--" "Yes, yes, I know. You're going to say I'm a perv. Anyway, once you recover, I'll introduce you to Petra," I said, giving a knowing look to the female. "He's not this weak, he's just being a drama queen." "Tch. Sorry I don't have abs of steel." How are you going to lie like that? You clearly have the most perfect abs, I thought. "Are you about done complaining?" I arched an eyebrow and he sighed before nodding as we started walking again. "So, this is Petra, a lovely person that isn't weird like my other friends who you prefer not to hang out with." "It's not that I don't want to hang out with them, it's just I have no idea what you're talking about because all I hear is laughing and incoherent words that you somehow understand." "Yeah, well, with Petra, you can have a civilised conversation." "Well, then, it's nice to meet you, Petra." "The same goes to you," she beamed. "Where were you guys going?" "Nowhere. (Y/N) and I were just walking around," I let her respond so they could talk some more. "What about you?" "I was going to get tea since I've run out." "Oh, okay," she paused, thinking of what to say next, so I lightly nudged her and mouthed some words. "Um, do you want company?" "No, it's fine. It'll be quicker if I go by myself." "Yeah, but the more, the merrier," I blurted out to which Levi lifted a brow to. "Well, since you're basically on your knees, begging to come, let's go." Petra mouthed a quick 'thank you' and I grinned in return, saying that I was going to quickly grab a coffee and then join them at the store. Both of them nodded and I went to the cafe Eren worked at. Oh, looks like he isn't here. I ordered a coffee and waited by the side, looking down at my phone. "Why are you so upset, princess? Missing your favourite waiter?" a voice teased, causing me to look up at the grinning Eren. I mirrored him with a grin of my own. "Yeah, but only because he gives my broke ass a discount," I retorted as he softly chuckled. "I'm surprised I don't see you with Levi." "I actually was, but he went to get tea from the shop down the road with Petra." "Petra?" "Yes... You've met her a couple of times." I bit down on my lip. "And I may have promised her that I'll help her get together with Levi," I told him as he took a customer's order. Once they paid, he started to prepare their order. "Why would you do that?" he questioned with furrowed brows. "Because I couldn't just say no. And I shouldn't stop girls from asking him out just because I don't have the guts to." "You're too nice. You have to learn to say no. And, if I were you, I would punch every girl that talks to him." "Yeah, but I'm not violent like that. Even though I just punched Levi." "Why?" "I thought he was some random dude who put their hand on my shoulder, so of course, I would punch any idiot who thought it would be a good idea to touch me." "He got what he deserves," Eren mumbled as he faced away from me to give the customer their order, but I vaguely heard him, crossing my arms over my chest. "Leave him alone," I childishly pouted. "He's done nothing to deserve your hatred. He doesn't have anything against you, so I don't know why you're still bothered." The teal-eyed male sighed. "I don't know either. I'm just being bitchy." "I'll prove to you that he's a decent person that you don't have to be worried about anymore." "Sure." "Excuse me, miss? Here's your coffee," the young man smiled and passed it to me. "Thank you," I replied and he went to serve some other person. "Anyway, I've got my coffee and I'm distracting you from your work, so I'll see you later." "Wait, give me a sip." I gave him my coffee and he smiled as he passed it back to me. "Bye, princess." I playfully rolled my eyes before leaving the cafe and making my way towards the store Levi and Petra would be at as I mentally prepared myself for whatever was to come. I entered the building and saw them at the till, paying for Levi's tea and some other things as they held a conversation.
I waited by the exit, leaning against a wall and taking small sips from my coffee as to not burn my tongue. They approached me and I pushed myself off of the wall, walking beside Petra, who was in the middle of us. And I mean that metaphorically and literally since she's stopping me from forming a relationship with Levi (it's my fault so I can't really blame her) and she's also walking in between us. After Levi had gotten his tea, he went home since he said he 'didn't feel like going anywhere'. That left me and Petra as she thanked me for helping her and introducing her to Levi. We ended up going to the library and whispered to each other about whatever we had missed, forgetting the books that we were reading. We then got some food that I decided to eat at home since I wasn't hungry when we got it. That's when our day together ended and we parted ways. Now, here I am, at home, cocooned in some blankets with a bowl of popcorn as I watched a show Hanji's been telling me to watch with all the lights off. About halfway through an episode, I heard the front door open and in came Hanji and her boyfriend. I paused it, knowing I would miss an important part when they come into the living room. Oh, just a heads up, by the way: Hanji's boyfriend is also one of my professors at our university. "Hi, (Y/N)," Hanji beamed as Erwin gave me a nod as a greeting. "Hey--" "Oh my gosh!! You're finally watching it!" "Yeah, but I'm only on the third episode." "I don't care. I'm so happy you decided to watch it," she squealed. "Anyway, I don't want to disturb you, so bye." She doesn't want to disturb me, huh? More like she doesn't want to waste time on this conversation when she could be doing other things with her boyfriend. And I'm so glad that the doors and walls are all thick, almost as if they're soundproof. I resumed it before having to pause it again due to my phone ringing. Doesn't my phone ring at the perfect times, like when I just want to relax? I answered the call after reading the name. "Hello?" "Yeah, hi." "What do you need?" "Why were you acting weird today?" "What do you mean?" "You know exactly what I mean. You may have seemed happy, but you didn't look it at all." "And what is that supposed to mean, Mr Moody?" "Yeah, you were smiling but it was forced. And you spoke with a happy tone, but your eyes didn't match it." "Why the hell are you staring at my eyes?" "(Y/N), just tell me what's going on." "... Why do you even care?" I muttered. "Because you almost never act like you did today." "Well, it's something I prefer not to share. I'm flattered that you care so much about me, but don't worry about how I'm acting," I responded, throwing some popcorn in my mouth and grinding it with my teeth. "Fine. If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to. Sorry for caring." I sighed and held my phone to my right ear now, instead of my left. "No, I'm sorry. I am being a bitch." "You're always one, darlin'. You're being a grumpy bitch today." As he said that, I could imagine a smirk etching onto his lips as his hues shimmered with amusement. Oh, how much I wished to see his face and I wished I hadn't told Petra to basically 'Go ahead and marry the love of my life'. "Oi, are you okay?" "Hm. Oh, sorry, I just zoned out. You should know I do that a lot by now." I loved his soft voice that sounded like a purr. I could imagine that he was either lying in bed or on the sofa because there was no sound of movement. Maybe just staring up at the ceiling as he spoke. Isabel and Farlan were probably in their rooms because it sounded like he was alone. I bet there was a hint of Earl Grey tea on his breath. Oh, imagine if he was lying down shirtless, exposing his sexy abs that I have yet to see. Yeah, I sound like a complete weirdo and perv but we've gone over that already, so it shouldn't be a surprise. "Anyway, you should probably go to sleep now since we've got uni tomorrow." "Yeah... Wait, when's our first lecture?" "Ten o'clock." "Okay, thanks. Looks like I can finish off this episode before going to bed." I couldn't see him, but I could almost sense that he rolled his eyes. "Make sure you get some sleep. Goodnight, darlin'." "Yeah, night, Ackerman." I locked my phone once he cut the phone and I was finally able to watch the damn episode. ~/~ "What did I tell you?" was the first thing someone said to me the next morning. "Hush. I don't feel like getting a scolding right now," I murmured and massaged my temples as I felt a headache arising. Not only did I lose precious hours of sleep, but I also happened to start my period this morning, so on top of my headache, I had cramps. Aren't I just the luckiest person alive? Even though his mouth never opened, I could just tell by the way Levi was looking at me that he was mentally cursing at me for not sleeping well so I rolled my eyes. "At least you don't look like a corpse, though." "Why, thank you," I replied sarcastically. "Hey, do any of you have painkillers?" I asked both males - Jean shook his head and Levi fished something out of his bag. "Oh my gosh, thank you so much." I took a water bottle out of my bag and gulped it down, along with two pills. I'm not overdosing, don't worry, it's just how many I take since one doesn't work on me. "Thank you," I said once again and he simply nodded as Professor Erwin (aka Hanji's boyfriend) walked in. Of course, he would be smiling more than usual (if you know what I'm implying). As the lecture went on, I forced my eyes to stay open and made sure that I wouldn't nod off. At one point, I had no idea how or when, but my head ended up on Levi's shoulder. I don't how long it was there for, but he gently nudged my head with his shoulder which woke me up. I found out that it was the end of my lecture and let out a huff as I packed my stuff away and followed other people out of the hall. As I did that, I spoke a few words with Historia, another civilised human that I often talk to. "I'll talk to you later, (Y/N)," she beamed with her glistening blue eyes and walked away as I waved at her. "Hey, sorry for falling asleep on your shoulder." "I don't care. But you're taking your ass home and having a nap. Our next lecture is at one so you can have a two-hour nap. Just make sure you aren't late." "Yeah, yeah. I need a human alarm, though. Do any of you want to hang out at my place?" "Sure," both males replied and shrugged as I smiled at them and we all proceeded to mine and Hanji's apartment. Once reaching our destination, I slipped my shoes off, dropped my bag to the floor and plopped down onto the sofa on my stomach, closing my eyes. Before I could fully relax, I felt a weight settle on top of me. "Ugh, I hate you, Jean," I groaned once turning my head to see that he was sitting on my back. "Love you, too," he teased. "Okay, shhh. Let me sleep."
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dappercritter · 3 years
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Steven Universe Future Rewritten:
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(Alright. Time to dig up some demons for shits and giggles while I cope with having too many feelings.)
To be fair, even if I did my best to provide a satisfying conclusion with the elements I had to work with, there are still A LOT of fundamentally misguided choices I'd have a harder time than others with. Namely the fixation on using Steven and only Steven as lens to the events and characters, the skimming of countless important events, details, and characters and it's somewhat misguided approach to kindness.
E.g. Steven can't forgive his mom for hiding dark secrets she did her best to make up for but former genocidal tyrants are part of the family?
E.g. X 2 YOU CONSIDER THE OPPRESORS OF GEMKIND YOUR FAMILY BUT NOT THE GEMS WHO HAVE BEEN THERE FOR YOU ALL THIS TIME?
To which I say...
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That and the small matter of picking a tonal lane and sticking with it--a problem a lot of modern animation suffers from these days.
Something I could try to correct but it's more like a lesson I'd learn with my own original stuff going forward.
Now as for how I would actually do the story:
The big thing I’d focus on is reconciling Steven’s relationship with his mother, and undoing that terrible “Pink Diamond is a bad guy” narrative that completely overrode all the good things Rose Quartz did.
Instead of dwelling on Steven's mommy issues, maybe experience loss of control with his Diamond powers and coming to terms with the limitations of his role as a savior figure (another fixation of the series I took issue with) encourages Steven to take another look at his mother's journey, this time in chronological order, in hopes of some help.
Maybe even use the Rejuvenator as further explanation for why his Diamond powers are suddenly acting up, saying it reset his gem's memories to Pink Diamond's unstable beginnings. Thus why he has to go back to Rose's past to help getting this side of him under control.
Speaking of that little old bobble, MORE SPINEL.
No sending her off to live with the Diamonds, who were evidently and objectively worse people than Rose ever was, she needs to be a part of a real family that will show her the real love she needs. Then have her come along with Steven not only because she's part of his family, but because she wants to make up for her actions in The Movie.
Hell, maybe even have her excuse to come back from the Diamonds being them leaning back into their abusive behaviors because they don't know better because let's be honest--they wouldn't.
God, I can't even begin to think about all things I'd have to fix.
Anyways, the only other ideas I could mention are:
-Better explaining, rationalizing, and resolving Steven's monster form.
-Critique the Diamonds for their actions with greater seriousness.
-Do more with a post-Gem Empire setting and the division between Eras 1 and 2 and Era 3.
-THE CHEST, DAMMIT.
-More love for Jasper, the B-team, and the now-healed corrupted Gems.
-Gem colonizer team-up plot involving Bluebird, Holly Blue Agate, and the two trouble-making Lapis Lazulis.
-Oh and the Crystal Gems do more to help and not hinder.
-And Steven accepts them as his real family.
-Possible Spinearl?
-Maybe expand Steven's sobering arc beyond acknowledging his mother's faults and his trauma. Maybe use the Era divide, the opposing Homeworld Gem splinter faction, and possibly the Diamonds lapsing back into their dark ways, to have Steven realize that not everything can be perfectly resolved.
-Hell, have Steven face the fact that if it weren't for his status as a Diamond, he may have never succeeded in ending the war. He and his friends could have been ignored or even killed by the Diamonds on the spot if it weren't for his status.
-Less filler.
-More communication.
-Lastly (for real), don't just point out Steven's problems and have him deny them. Nor do we ignore everyone else's problems or development.
-SOLVE. THEM. DAMMIT.
There.
I did it.
My final contribution to the Steven Universe fandom.
I... Am... FREE!!!
youtube
(Play at x2 for maximum effect.)
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itsclydebitches · 3 years
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(WLW anon) I really don’t like the “bad rep is better then none at all”. I hate that. We should want good rep, because bad rep has been used time and time again by homophobes as to say we shouldn’t get representation. To me it’s not “gay can have the same flaws as het”, it’s “fix the flaws in the het”. Also I know Renora being independent was a good, I was just saying in comparison BB. Also, yes, they were separated, but also didn’t stop thinking about each other. Especially bad with Yang.
Indulge me for a moment because I want to take a trip down memory lane and list some—just some—of the queer rep that has been important to me over the years:
Ellen comes out both as herself and as her character… years later, she’s a hated millionaire who is criticized for how she treats her staff
The wildly influential Buffy gives us two women entering a loving relationship… except then Tara is killed off, Willow goes evil for a time, and Buffy comes under fire for Joss Whedon’s everything
The beloved and respectable headmaster of one of the most popular book series ever published is revealed to be gay… except it doesn’t count because it wasn’t in the text and now all of Harry Potter is cancelled because JKR is transphobic
Kurt is an unambiguously gay teen in a hugely popular TV series, acting as one of the first overt representations a generation has seen… except he’s way too stereotypical and Glee is a joke now
Orange is the New Black gives us a number of queer women, including one of our first trans characters… but isn’t it problematic that they’re all criminals?
Brooklyn Nine-Nine hosts an out gay captain and gives us a bisexual coming out story that resonated with many, myself included… except now we’re supposed to hate all the characters on principle because they’re cops
Korra and Asami walk off into the spiritual sunset together… but they never kiss or anything, so that doesn’t count either
Steven Universe gives us a queer relationship and a wedding… but it’s an issue that this is just a kid’s show and, really, does it count when the rep is embodied by space rocks whose entire species only creates a single gender? Feels like a cop-out
Same with Good Omens. Yeah, Crowley and Aziraphale clearly love each other… but you never see them kiss or declare their intentions. It’s great ace rep though! Unless you want to level the criticism that asexual characters are always nonhuman
A character intended to be a minor guest becomes a show staple and eventually declares his love for one of the two main characters… except then Castiel immediately dies, Dean doesn’t respond, and they never meet on screen again
I finished Queen’s Gambit the other day and the main character had a one-night stand with a woman! … but everyone is talking about how bisexuality is used to represent her lowest point, so that’s bad too
I could go on for literal pages. Some of these arguments I agree with (Dumbledore), others I’ve pushed back against quite strongly (Crowley and Aziraphale), but all of them are valid criticisms depending on what part of the queer community you’re in and what your expectations are. My point here is that it’s all “bad rep.” I mean that seriously. If anyone reading this is scrambling for the comment section to say why [insert media title here] is actually fantastic rep, I guarantee that someone disagrees. Or if they don’t, give it some time. Just wait until the characterization becomes offensively outdated, or another part of the story ruins the relationship, or it comes out that the author did something truly horrific, or the terminology changes and it’s labeled as “problematic” now… just wait. At some point, any rep we feel is good rep now will be criticized, cancelled, and dragged through the mud. The rep that I personally haven’t seen much push-back against—like the beloved Captain Jack Harkness in Doctor Who, or Schitts Creek that just won a ton of awards—is wrapped up in the criticism, “So it’s all just about able-bodied, cis, (mostly) white dudes, huh? :/”  Even the argument that queer characters need to be written by queer authors doesn’t hold up. I absolutely adored Sense8. “Wow, a gay main character in a loving relationship with another gay man, both of whom enter a loving poly relationship with a woman, another lesbian trans main character who marries the love of her life on screen, an entire cast arguably queer due to them sharing orgy scenes centered around the emotional intimacy they share, everyone survives, and this was written by two trans women! Great, right?” Well, not according to the wealth of opinions explaining how Sense8 is horrible rep, actually. Every piece of rep we’ve got is either currently flawed or will become flawed in the future.
So what do we do with that?
That’s where my “I’d rather have bad rep than no rep at all” comes in. For me, that’s not waving the white flag. That’s not an oath that I won’t expect better rep in the future (I do) or that I won’t criticize the rep we get (BOY DO I), but rather just an acknowledgement of reality. The vast majority—if not the entirety—of rep is “bad rep” in one way or another, but I’d still rather have it than nothing at all. Because I’ve lived just long enough and studied media just enough to know what nothing looked like. It was watching all queer characters meet untimely deaths. Before that it was watching queer characters be derided and treated as jokes. Before that it was nothing but coding, where queer characters didn’t exist except in our own headcanons and interpretations. Obviously “bad rep” covers a very large range of issues and “They haven’t even confirmed this relationship yet” is a bigger issue than “This queer character embodies one or two, mild stereotypes,” but ultimately I’d take any of it over nothing at all. And enjoying what we’ve currently got doesn’t mean I’m willing to settle for it indefinitely.
To use an iffy analogy, imagine there’s a factory. This factory makes plates. So. Many. Plates. Big plates, small plates, plain plates, decorative plates, plates for every possible occasion in your life—and everyone with a steak for dinner is pleased as punch. You though? You’ve got soup. You need a bowl. Your entire life you’ve been struggling to eat your soup off a plate (it doesn’t work) and listening to friends and family claim that the plate with a slightly raised edge could be a bowl if you squint (it’s not). To say it’s frustrating is an understatement.
But then, one day, the factory starts producing bowls too. Hurray! Except as soon as you get your hands on one, you’re told you really shouldn’t be using it, let alone praising it. Look at the state of that bowl! It’s cracked right down the middle, ugly as hell, shoddily made all around… you’re not really going to settle for that, are you? And no, you obviously still want the factory to produce better bowls, but at the same time, this is a bowl. You’ve never gotten one before and you can finally enjoy your meal, even if the soup leaks at times. Sometimes a lot. But you’re still feeling better about your meal than you ever have before. And what you then begin to realize is that lots of the plates are a mess too. They also have cracks, they’re also ugly, many are also shoddily made. The difference is that the factory is producing so many plates at such a rapid pace that every steak eater is able to get by. One plate breaks completely? You’ve got a thousand fallbacks. Don’t like the look of this one? A thousand other options. You disagree about what “shoddily made” means? Luckily there are enough plates that everyone can find what they prefer! But the bowls… there’s only a few. Some are really expensive. Others are only available for a limited time before they suddenly disappear. Your bowl breaks and you have to wait months, years sometimes, to get another one. You’re constantly told to go buy this one obscure bowl no one else has heard about and yeah, you like it... but you’d also like to buy one of the bowls everyone is already enjoying. You find yourself looking at the plates and thinking, “I’d like that. I’d like to have so many options that the flaws, while still a problem, are much more bearable.” You’re still going to demand that the factory get its shit together, you’re still going to (rightly) complain about the awful quality of your bowl… but it’s still nice to have a bowl, period. There are still things you like about it, even if it’s a mess: the color, the size, the beauty of the shape of it. Its potential. You’re still pleased you have something to enjoy and that helps serve the need you’re looking to fill, even if that something is imperfect.
That’s “bad rep is better than no rep.” To bring this very long response back to Blake/Yang, I don’t think their problems negate their benefits. Is their relationship currently non-canonical and filled with a number of writing issues everyone has a right to be angry about? Yup. I express that anger a great deal. Are they still half of a team on a very popular show that is (presumably) set to be canonized as queer? Yup. I’d much rather live in a world where big shows like RWBY try to include queer rep and fail in a multitude of ways—with the expectation and hope that they’ll continue to improve—rather than in a world where authors a) don’t care or b) are too scared to try. Because that’s where a “good rep or no rep” stance leads. The danger isn’t homophobes because they’re, well, homophobes. It doesn’t matter if the rep is good or not, they hate it on principle. But if queer authors writing for other queer identities, or allies writing queer identities, or even queer authors writing their own experiences (like in Sense8) continually come under non-stop fire for their attempts… there’s a good chance that many people won’t ever try. We’re already seeing that here on tumblr with young authors admitting that they wouldn’t touch [insert topic here] with a ten-foot pole because just look at what happens when you get it wrong. And authors will get things wrong because authors are fallible people forever unlearning their own ignorance. So though it might sound strange coming from a blog that has turned into such a RWBY critical space, I am glad that RWBY’s queer rep exists, despite all the frustrations that I share about it. I think a RWBY with various types of “bad” queer rep is better than a RWBY with no queer rep at all, particularly when “bad” or “good” is so intensely subjective. There’s a middle ground between passively accepting whatever we’re given, and tearing into rep with such ferocity that we end up rejecting it all. There’s a space where we can be critical of rep and embrace the parts that work for us, simultaneously.
I hope and expect the het rep will get better too, but… that’s never going to happen instantly. To quote RWBY, there’s no magic wand we can wave to fix all our problems. Rather, it will take slow, plodding, meandering, lifetimes’ worth of work to see that change occur and I personally don’t want to spend the one life I have waiting for that perfect rep to show up. Because it’s unlikely that it will. While we work, I’d rather find the good in what rep we’ve already got.  
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janicho88 · 3 years
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Fire, Fur & Mistletoe Chapter 3
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Pairing- Eventual Dean x Female Reader.
Word Count-2,383
Warning- Mentions of: loss of parents, death, and fires.  Possible swearing. Slight angst. Fluff
Summary- A rewrite of the Nine Lives of Christmas, Hallmark movie. AU, Dean is a firefighter who doesn’t do commitment, the Holiday’s don’t mean much to him.  Coming home after a shift he finds a dog in trouble.  The reader is a veterinary student who works in a coffee shop trying to make it to graduation, until someone causes problems there for her.  She isn’t interested in finding anyone other than her own dog until after she finishes school.  Do their four legged friends have other plans?
A/N- This series is written for @spnchristmasbingo.  The square filled for this chapter is Christmas Tree  The first two chapters will stay closer to the movie than the rest will.  
This chapter also fills my entry for @supernatural-love14​,100 Followers writing challenge.  Prompt - I don’t remember the last time I truly enjoyed Christmas.
This has its own tag list and it is open.  That way I am not tagging anyone who doesn’t want to be tagged in Christmas stories.   This story is unbeta’d.
Header by the amazing @winchest09
Divider from freepngimg.com
Series Masterlist
To say you were surprised to end up at an elementary school would be an understatement.    Dean’s group of fascinating people were the kindergarten classes. He even had plastic fireman hats for them, and of course an extra one for you. 
The kids were so caught up in his speech about fire safety and the important things to remember if there ever is a fire.  He was so good with them and kept them all interested.  He finished his presentation talking about Christmas trees and how they should all make sure their parents keep them watered, so the lights don’t catch them on fire. 
Dean took questions at the end.  Some of the boys wanted to know what it was like to drive the fire truck, someone asked if it was fun to slide down the pole.  They were disappointed when Dean told them there wasn’t one where he worked.  One little girl at the end ran up and gave him a great big hug before you guys left.  He was so adorable with her. 
When you left there Dean asked if you were interested in helping him pick out tiles for the kitchen backsplash.  You didn’t have anything else to do and had been enjoying helping him with the house so you agreed. 
Getting to the store he had three different ones selected and had you help him decide.  After the paint he trusted your opinion on the color selection.   
They had enough in stock of your choice to let you two get started on it when you got home.  The rest would be in soon.  You had a system worked out, you put the mastic on the back and Dean applied the tile to the wall. 
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That afternoon Dean headed into work for another 24 hour shift. The second call of the afternoon was for a house fire.  Thankfully for the residents it was mostly contained to one room, just the living room.  But that room had a bit of damage done.
Hoping out of the truck back at the station he asks, “Okay who seriously is going to BBQ a turkey in the fireplace.  And plan on doing it twice because this was just going to be a test run before Christmas?”
“It’s the Holidays,”  Bobby stated.  “People are going to be doing crazy things.  You’ve been here a few years don’t you know this by now.”
“That is true.  Y/N and I were talking about that earlier after we left the school presentation.”
“Wait, WE, left the presentation?  Did you take her with you?”  Benny wanted to know.
“Well,”
“She’s living with him now, didn’t you know that?” Sam asks him.
“What, really?”  Benny couldn’t believe it.
“She moved in a couple days ago.”
“Wow, you two move fast.”
“It’s not like that you idiots.  She got kicked out of her condo and had nowhere else to go, and she already got fired because of me.  I’m just giving her a place to stay till she figures things out.  The house has the room.  Our dogs get along great.”
“Is that why Miracle isn’t here?”  Cas wants to know.
“Yeah, Y/N’s taking care of him and Dean. He’s falling in love.”
“Who Dean or Miracle?” Cas questions Sam.
“Dean, probably both.  She is very easy to like.”
“You’ve met her, besides that day she was in here?”  Benny wanted to know.
“Yeah, Dean called me to help move her.”
“I would have helped the nice pretty girl move, why didn’t you ask me to help?”
“I’m not sure packing would have been the only thing you tried with her, Benny.  I just found her again, I’m not letting you scare her off.”
“He didn’t deny the love.”  Sam says with a smile. 
“I’m not falling in love with anyone, bitch.”  Dean shakes his head at the whole thing as he removes his gear. 
“I’m sorry, my jerk of a brother, is falling in love, but he doesn’t know it yet.”
“That can’t be true Dean, come on man.  I look up to you, playing the field avoiding commitment, a constant string of beautiful women.”
“It’s not true, we aren’t falling in love, not dating.  I still don’t do commitment, and never getting married.”
“So what are you doing with Miracle if you don’t do commitment?”  Bobby asks as he takes off his coat.”
“Temporary long termish house guest.”
“Uh huh.”
“I told him when the house is sold he’s on his own.”
“Let us know how that works out in a couple of months, you idjit.”
“I’m calling your bluff with the girl.  Can you say no to these three things.”
“Really Cas?”
Cas ignores Dean and continues on, “ You live with her?  That’s a yes.  Two, you spend all your free time with her? Yes.”
“Well.”
“Three, you think about her when you aren’t with her? Yes,”
“No, no, you have it all wrong.  Like I said she is only staying till she gets back on her feet.  We are getting to know each other so we hang out, but only  because she’s already there.”
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“Getting to know each other like you would if you were dating someone?”
“Shut it Sam.”
“Are you saying he is falling in love?  The legend, is human after all?”  Benny questioned.
“No, I’m not falling in love.  Y/N is a temporary roommate.  That’s it.”
“Man, you are like five minutes away from marrying this girl.”  Sam tells him.
“I hate you all.”  Gear off Dean leaves them behind to take a shower.
“Keep telling yourself that!”  Bobby yells after him.
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Wandering around Dean’s house alone while he was at work, you got to thinking.  There was one thing you were really missing this close to Christmas, and it was something you didn’t think you would be able to have this year.  A Christmas tree.
When Dean gets home the next afternoon you bring it up.
“I was wondering if you were going to get a Christmas tree this year?”
“Usually don’t.  I don’t think I’ve had one in a few years.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I haven’t seen a reason too.  I buy a house, fix it up and sell it.  Usually I don’t stay in one long enough.  I don’t do much for the Holidays.  Why do you ask?”
“I was thinking maybe we could get a tree?  I have a little artificial tabletop tree, but wouldn’t it be nice to have a real one?  To have that Christmas smell when you walk in the door?”
“If you like real ones so much why didn’t you already have one in your place?”
“It was against the bylaws. Apparently too much of a fire liability.”
“That didn’t stop you with Dakota.”
“The tree can’t be hidden quickly like she was.  She was worth risking it for.”
“You really want to get a tree?”
“Please, it helps it feel more like Christmas.  If you don’t want one I understand.”
Dean threw his head back and sighed.  “Fine we can go get a tree.  I think there is a tree lot near the station that hasn’t sold out yet.”
“Let’s go to a tree farm, get the whole experience.”
“You’ll be the death of me Sweetheart.”
Dean didn’t have to work at all the following day, so after breakfast the two of you headed out to the Christmas tree farm.  Dressed in warm clothes and boots you were ready to walk all around the 8 acre tree farm if you needed to, just to find the right tree.   There was a wagon ride that took you around to the different types of trees.  Dean and you got off in the back lot figuring you could walk your way toward the entrance. 
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“There’s a tree,”  Dean points out as you start walking down the first row.
“Yes, and it’s also like four foot tall.  It’s still growing, let the baby be.”
“Okay, miss Christmas tree expert.  How do you pick the perfect Christmas tree?”
“It’s really pretty scientific you know.”
“Oh really? Please do explain it to me.”
You laughed at his expression. He had turned to you with wide eyes and a cheeky little grin.  Like he was going to absorb whatever you said.  “You dork.”  Heading over to a tree you reach for a branch pulling your hand back toward you slowly.  “First you need to check the freshness.  If the needles stay on when you do that it’s good.”
You drop your hand to the side, “Then you need to inhale deeply and see how it smells.”
Dean did just that, “It smells like a tree.”
“Okay, but does it smell Christmassy.”
“Christmassy?  Pretty sure you just made that word up.”  
“Nope it’s totally in the dictionary.”
“Okay, Webster.  Then what does it mean?”
“To be filled with Christmas spirit.”
Dean just stared at you for a moment.  “You think a tree is going to smell like it’s filled with Christmas spirit?  Just wondering if you were drinking before I got up this morning?”
“Oh come on, it’s that fresh cut pine smell that fills the whole place and makes it feel like Christmas.”
“Whatever you say, I’ll leave the nose work to you.  What is step three?”  He wants to know as you two walk down the lane looking at the trees around you.
“The lean test.  You need to look at a tree straight on, then lean to the right and to the left, then stand back up straight.  You don’t want a tree that is leaning too hard one way and is crooked.”  You stop to inspect a tree, but continue on down your way.
The fourth step is checking the trunk and making sure nothing is wrong with it.  Sometimes the tree might be straight but that isn’t.  Or it could have a double one that won’t fit in a tree stand.”
“Height is important too.  Your ceilings are fairly high so we could get a foot tree no problem.”
Dean is just smiling listening to you go on about trees while you walk through the lot. “Yep that is extremely scientific.”
You two stopped and looked at different ones but kept going.  There was one you stuck a stick up in top of to mark if you didn’t find anything else you liked. Around an hour into your search you stopped in your tracks.  Dean was lost in his thoughts and took him a moment to notice.  
“That’s the one.”
“The one?”
“Yep, that’s the tree we should get.”
“There is only one?  How do you know it’s the one? What if you are wrong, but you’ve already committed to it?  What happens then, fighting and hurting the kids?”
“You lost me, Dean.”
“I um,”  He just realized what all came out of his mouth. “I  mean it’s a great tree.  Let’s get that one.”
“You sure you are alright?”
“Yep great.  Hold that steady, till I need you to push a little, will you?”
While you were helping to hold the tree from moving too much Dean got on the ground and started sawing back and forth till he had it lying on the ground.  You couldn’t help but notice the muscles in his arms as he worked. 
The two of you carried the tree toward the path in the hopes the wagon would be around soon and you wouldn’t have to carry it all the way to the front.  Thankfully only about five minutes later you could hear it coming around.  Up at the front they shook and bagged the tree for you.  
They also had Santa, and some petting animals around.
“Did you want to go tell Santa your Christmas wish?”  You asked Dean.
“You know, I already saw him this year.  He and I are pretty tight.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
After seeing the animals you hopped in his truck and headed to the store.  Neither of you had a stand that would fit the newly bought tree.  With that accomplished you were on your way back to the house.  Getting the tree inside it was set up in the living room not to far from the fire place, but not near enough to catch any sparks that may pop out. 
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Dean didn’t have any decorations in the house, but you had some you had been saving.  After the lights were on you went to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate for the two of you and pulled out some of the peanut butter blossom cookies you made the day before.  Coming back Dean still hadn’t turned on the tv so you asked if you could.  Finding the different music channels you finally came across a Christmas one.
The two of you were enjoying the music and each other’s company as you decorated the tree. 
It was late afternoon by the time everything was done and cleaned up.  You offered to start dinner and Dean came in to help you.  The two of you working easily in the newly finished kitchen. 
After dinner you two retired back to the living room turning off the lights in the room and just letting the tree shine.  There was a roaring fire going, The Santa Clause 2 playing on tv.  Chet had to be one of your favorite reindeer in training. It was very relaxing.  
After the movie Dean mutes the television and turns to you.  “Thank you for suggesting the tree.  It’s actually really nice to have it.  I don’t remember the last time I truly enjoyed Christmas.  My parents fought a lot when we were little after the fire, before and after separating.  After we lost them it was just Sam and I.  Both of us just worked double shifts on Christmas at the station so others could have the time off.  Now Sam has Jess so he works part of the day, but doesn’t do a double anymore so he can spend time with her and her family.
He looks around at the decorations on the mantle, “I wouldn’t be opposed if you had some other small decorations you wanted to get out too.”
“Okay, I’ll see what I have that won’t be in the way.”
He turns the volume back up and the two of you settle back to watch another movie.
Thank you for reading!
Chapter 4 
Tags- @winchest09  @waywardbeanie @whatareyousearchingfordean  @flamencodiva @deanwanddamons @jensengirl83 @abuavnee @lunarmoon8 @amyzombie1013 @akshi8278 @that-one-gay-girl @mandalou29  @igotmadskills
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davidmann95 · 3 years
Note
now that it's over, thoughts on Bendis' Superman as a whole?
pretenderoftheeast said: So, thoughts on Bendis' Superman and Action Comics' tenure altogether and separately now that it's over?
Anonymous said: Best and Worst things about Bendis' Superman run
Anonymous said: Now that it is over, what are your thoughts on Bendis' runs on Superman and Action Comics as a whole?
Anonymous said: Retrospective thoughts on Bendis' Superman as a whole now that it's, I guess, done?
Anonymous said: Hey so since Bendis’ Superman stuff seems to be done, what did you think of the run as a whole?
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I decided to hold off a bit on writing on this one, if only so that I could reread the Action Comics side of it since Superman stood out in my memory a lot more. But now I have, and as we’re heading into a bold new era of Superman (and it’s coming in fast - just since I made my Superman in 2021 predictions we’ve gotten Ed Pinsent finally reprinting his legendary bootleg Silver Age Superman, Steve Orlando announcing his Superman analogue book Project Patron, an official shonen Superman redesign for RWBY/Justice League, PKJ’s Super-debut turning out far better than I ever expected, Superman & Lois’s first proper trailer largely taking people pleasantly by surprise, and my learning that there’s a Sylvester Stallone Old Man Superman analogue movie titled Samaritan coming out this summer) we’re ready to take a look back with at least a touch of perspective. I’ll lead with complaints, so everybody who’s been waiting for me to say that Bendis on Superman was Bad, Actually, savor this because it’s as close as you’ll get.
The Bad
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* I hate to say it, but rereading that side of the run there’s no two ways about it: the structure of Action Comics as a whole is a mess. It baffled me from day one that it was the more acclaimed of the two books for so long - I guess people are hardwired at this point to think of ‘street’ stuff as where Bendis is supposed to be - because it was immediately clear that Superman had a well-defined story he wanted to tell, while Action was the usual Bendis off-the-cuff improvisation. It’s barely even a story in the same way, and it’s certainly not the ‘Metropolis crime book’ people took it as: it’s 28 issues of Superman and his supporting cast stuffed a pinball machine with the Red Cloud pinging off of each other as we wait to see who falls in the hole at the bottom, and partway through Leviathan and the Legion of Doom and 90s Superboy are tossed into the mix to keep it going a little longer. On an issue-to-issue basis it’s frequently really good, but the core plot of the book is *maybe* six issues stretched out over two and a half years.
* I’ve gone into this some before, but structure-wise Unity Saga also has problems: Phantom Planet rules but either it needed to be cut or the back half needed to be a year all its own in order to accommodate the scale of what it’s attempting. It’s got an interstellar civil war leading into the formation of the United Planets, family drama, Rogol Zaar’s whole deal, and Jon’s coming of age, and I’d say only that last one is really properly served. Even Jon forming the United Planets, while contextually somewhat justified in terms of 1. The situation being so far gone he’s the only one who’d even think in those terms, 2. Things being bad enough that these assorted galactic powers would be willing to try it, and 3. Him having the S on his chest to sell it, isn’t at all built up to within the run itself.
* Rogol Zaar sucks. He’s made up of nothing but interesting ideas - he’s an ersatz warrior ‘superman’ of a bygone age of empires up against the new model, he’s the sins of Krypton as a conservative superpower come home to roost, he’s while not outright said to be definitely Superman’s tragic half-brother and the culmination of everything this run does with Jor-El - but none of them manifest on the page, he’s just a big punchy dude with a dumb design who screams about how you should take him seriously because he’s totally the one who blew up Krypton. Even a killer redesign by Ryan Sook for Legion of Superheroes can’t fix that. There are lots of bad villains with good ideas who are redeemed with time and further effort, but I can’t imagine Zaar getting that TLC to become a fraction of whatever Bendis envisioned him as.
* The second year of Action Comics, after establishing itself in its first as one of the most consistently gorgeous books on the stands, leads with Szymon Kudranski’s weak output and then concludes with John Romita Jr. turning in some career-worst work. The latter is particularly egregious because for that first year Bendis writes a really collected, gentle Superman so him getting pushed into being more aggressive should have an impact, but Romita draws such a craggy rough-looking Superman in the first place that it mutes any sort of shock value.
 * WE NEVER LEARN WHAT’S UP WITH LEONE’S CAR, WHAT THE HELL. You don’t just DROP THAT IN THERE and then NEVER FOLLOW UP.
The Good
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* Superman got his real clothes back after 7 truly ridiculous years.
* Bendis fundamentally gets Clark’s voice in a way unlike almost any other writer - even all-around better writers of the character almost never approach how spot-on he is with having Superman speak and act exactly how Superman should.
* Supporting cast front and center! He writes a dynamite Lois, Perry, and Jimmy (even if many of Lois’s more out-there decisions in the run don’t end up retroactively justified the way you’d hope), Ma and Pa are more fun than they’ve been in decades in their brief appearances, he manages to turn having Jor-El in the mix into a positive, and the Daily Planet as a whole has an incredibly distinctive vibe to it like never before that I hope is taken as a baseline going forward.
* The non-Rogol Zaar baddies? All ruled. Invisible Mafia and Red Cloud are both brilliant ideas executed solidly if overextended. Zod as Kryptonian Vegeta, Mongul as a generational perpetual bastard engine primed to be incapable of self-reflection, and Ultraman as “what if Irredeemable but he’d never been a good guy and also he was a Jersey mobster” are the best versions of those characters by numberless light-eons. Lex is on-point in his sparse appearances. Xanadoth as a mystical cosmic monster older than time who still talks like a Bendis character is however unintentionally a hoot. The alt-universe Parasite is a more intimidating Doomsday than Doomsday ever was. And Synmar as an alien culture’s attempt at creating their own Superman and messing up the formula when they make him a soldier can and should be a legitimate major ongoing villain coming out of this run.
* Pretty much all the art other than what I mentioned already. Fabok does a good job bookending The Man of Steel and Ivan Reis does the work of his career anchoring Superman (special props to Reis as well for drawing the first ever non-Steve Rude interesting-looking take on Metropolis), and meanwhile you’ve got Jim Lee, Jose Luis Garcia Lopez, Doc Shaner, Steve Rude, Kevin Maguire, Adam Hughes, Patrick Gleason, Yanick Paquette, Ryan Sook, Brandon Peterson, and David Lafuente doing their own parts.
* Closely related to the art, all the little flourishes with the powers. Super-speed having a consistent visual with the background coloring changing, Clark internally putting numbers to the degrees of force behind his punches and what situations which numbers are appropriate for, ‘skidding to a halt’ mid-flight before crashing through a window, the shonen-ass major throwdowns as portrayed by Reis, how his super-hearing is handled as a prevalent element. Lots of clever bits that added flavor to what he does.
* While Unity Saga has problems, the whole of what Bendis does in Superman as a means of forward momentum for Clark and his world is excellent. The sort of three-act structure of: 
** Clark is led to question his place in things over the course of a few adventures
** Involvement in the larger cosmos and the impact it has had through and on his family makes him realize the answer to his questions is that he needs to step up in a bigger way because there’s no benevolent larger universe to welcome Earth with open arms, nor a cosmic precedent for everything turning out for the best without some help
** As a consequence of the lessons learned by this change in the status quo Clark is inspired to make his own personal change in revealing his identity (with Mythological basically being an epilogue showcasing a ‘standard’ standalone Superman adventure while simultaneously highlighting his new status quo and how it fits in as a summing-up of Bendis’s take)
…does a great job of shepherding through ideas that lend a lot of forward momentum to Superman of the kind he hasn’t seen in a long time. Not perfect, but far lesser stories with far lesser ambitions have made huge impacts, so I’d certainly hope at least some of this sticks around even if, say, regardless of any retcons to the main line there are always going to be stories with Clark as a disguise and Jon as a kid. Oh, speaking of whom,
* KISS MY ASS, EVERYTHING WITH JON KENT RULED
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Ahem. Probably a less confrontational way of putting that.
Do I think there was more gas in the tank for Jon as a kid? Totally, making him likeable and viable was the one really good thing the Rebirth era accomplished for Superman and I expect we’ll continue seeing more of it in the future one way or another. But whether or not him being aged up was Bendis’s decision, or working with marching orders to set up the eventually-(kinda-)discarded 5G, the coming of age narrative here is fire. He keeps the essential Clark Kent kindness and bit of Lois Lane cheekiness that reminds you he’s still their kid, which is a combination Bendis is basically precision-crafted to write, but his trials by fire give him a background entirely unlike the by-the-numbers “and here’s how Superman’s great kid grew up to be a great superhero too” narrative you’d expect while still arriving at that endpoint. If superheroes live and die by metaphors then Jon in here is what it means to grow up written as large as possible: leaving home for the first time (and seeming to shoot up overnight!), getting into the muck of how the real world works, being beaten down by authority wearing faces you’ve been taught to trust, scrambling to get through with the whole world against you, and in the end getting through by learning to rely on your own strength while keeping your soul intact and your head held high, and even managing to speak some truth to power. It gives him a well-defined life story with room to go back to and explore the intricacies of each leg of for decades to come in a way Superman hasn’t had since the original Crisis - someone someday is going to write a The Life & Times Of The Son Of Superman miniseries and it’s going to be one of the greats - and negates any question that he’s earned his stature as the heir apparent.
* Coming out of this, Superman’s world is fascinating. He’s out but rather than giving up his day-to-day life he’s openly spending part of his life as CLARK KENT: SUPER-REPORTER and part of his job on the cape-and-tights side of things is now KAL-EL: SUPER-SPACE-DIPLOMAT, Lois Lane coruns a foundation helping people whose personal continuities have been fucked over by Crisis shenanigans, Jimmy Olsen owns the Daily Planet but is still doing Jimmy Olsen stuff because that’s how he gets his kicks, and Jon Kent is going to college in the future. I’m not anywhere near naïve enough to think that’s how things are going to be forever, or shortsighted enough to think there’s no value left in the traditional setups, but god I hope these developments stick around for a long, long time to come and potentially become the new ‘normal’ as far as the ongoing shared universe stuff goes, because it all feels like the right and promising next steps to take for the lives of these characters. However it got here, for all the pluses and minuses along the way even if I maintain the former very much outweighed the latter as a reading experience, Bendis has a lot to be proud of if that’s the legacy he leaves on these titles.
* The recap pages at the desks!
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sammystep · 3 years
Text
No One Lives Forever- CH11
(AO3 link)
Stardust Crusader Wolf Pack AU
[From the beginning- CH1]
<Previous Chapter     Next Chapter>
The sky is painted bright orange and red by the time the pack arrives at the next camp site. The fall colors on the trees make the world look like it’s made of gold and rubies cemented to black cast iron trees in silhouette. The path to the camp ground is narrow but still large enough for the truck to navigate as Avdol drives carefully down the one lane trail. Kakyoin had kept in mind the need to be able to transform at will tonight and found a private campsite that promised a ‘true survival experience’ according to the reviews online.
Your attention is dragged away from the fall scenery outside as Jotaro shifts in his sleep, his head resting in your lap as he lays sideways on the bench seat of the back row. You adjust the hoodie you’d thrown over his sleeping figure and gently brush back his hair before returning your hand to rest on his arm. He’d been exhausted after the last fight and started nodding off almost as soon as you had set out. After the third time he leaned too far forward and jerked himself awake you gave in and decided to risk the embarrassment of the others teasing -or worse, Jotaro’s rejection- and offered to let him lay down. He looked confused for a moment but you patted your lap in invitation. He snuck a quick glance to the rest of the pack before shifting and laying down. You were both tense at first at first but you hesitantly ran your hand over his hair and he loosened up considerably. Soon he was fully asleep on you.
Joseph and Polnareff also seem to be sleeping, or close to it in the middle row seats, but a particularly rough bump in the road shakes the truck enough to wake everyone. Jotaro grumbles as he sits up, sweatshirt falling off and revealing the tank top and bandages on his shoulder. He looks it for a moment before handing it back to you with a gruff ‘thanks’, his voice raspy with sleep.
“It’s no problem. Feeling better?” you ask as you bundle the sweater on your lap.
“A bit. Still sore as hell.” He tries his best to stretch in the confined space. Another bump in the road almost causes him to bump his head on the roof and he slumps in his seat to avoid it happening again as the bumps and rocking get more extreme.
“Ah, that must be the camp site ahead.” Kakyoin says as he looks up from the map on his phone and points to the clearing now visible after cresting a small hill. The truck is barely still for a second before Polnareff jumps out and starts stretching. The rest of you follow his example, the cramped car ride after transforming and fighting not doing your muscles any favors. Like the site you just left this one was also empty but located much deeper in the forest. Perfect for keeping off the grid until morning.
The last campers had left some firewood under the cover of a nearby pine tree so you work to quickly clear the ashes from the fire pit. With the help of Jotaro’s lighter, a good size fire crackled happily to life just as the sun set. The rest of the pack had split up to investigate the clearing and into the woods beyond while you built the fire, but the rustling of bags draws everyone back in. Joseph makes his way over carrying as many bags of snacks as he can, “Dinner time! Looks like the choices tonight are beef jerky, chips or candy.” You all gather and take a seat on the logs laying near the fire and start passing around the bags.
While a meal of snacks wouldn’t be filling for long, for now it was enough to leave you all satisfied. Joseph is sitting with Polnareff and Avdol across from where you are seated between Jotaro and Kakyoin and sets off the first contagious yawn. You can hear his back crack as he stretches, your own eyes watering from the strength of your yawn. Polnareff laughs and slaps Joseph on the back, “Ha, looks like it’s past the old wolf’s bed time!” Joseph can’t refute this as he goes to reply and gets caught by another epic yawn.
“We should go over sleeping arrangements though. The truck is too small for all of us to sleep in and we only have a fire because the last campers left some wood.” Kakyoin says as he leans forward toward the fire and rests his head in his hand. He moves his sharp gaze around the clearing looking for any other supplies or natural resources that could be used. He heaves a sigh and drops his gaze back to the fire.
Jotaro hums in though as he looks around as well. “With all the encounters we’ve had just today I think we should take shifts on patrol. The truck can probably hold two people if we fold down some seats. The rest of us will have to spend the night transformed, for safety and for warmth.” The rest of the pack nods in agreement. “Avdol, are you ok driving the rest of the way tomorrow?”
Avdol tilts his head at the change of subject. “Yes, that shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Good,” Jotaro leans back and stretches a bit as he explains, “you and the old man can sleep in the truck tonight, the rest of us will pair up and patrol in shifts.”
“Well wait a moment Jotaro, I can patrol too!” Joseph slaps his hands on his legs as he leans forward toward Jotaro. “I know I joke about it a lot but I’m not that old!”
Jotaro sighs as he closes his eyes and crosses his arms. “One of these days your age will catch up to you. Besides, you’ll need to be well rested to navigate for Avdol tomorrow. And you need to manage whatever is going on at the new headquarters once we get there.” He opens his eyes again and fixes Joseph with a steely gaze. Joseph scratches at his beard and looks away, not ready or willing to challenge Jotaro on this. You can’t really make out what he grumbles under his breath other than ‘not that old’.
Polnareff laughs and slaps Joseph on the back, “Ha! I’ll remember you said that next time you try and get out of trouble using that ‘frail old man’ card!” Joseph just grumbles more as everyone chuckles; you see a small smirk on his face as he turns away though.
“Fine, fine. Us old guys will sleep in the car while you young whippersnappers brave the cold out here. But don’t come knocking on my door in the middle of the night!”
Jotaro grins at his grandfather’s antics before turning his attention to the rest of the ‘youngsters’ in the pack. “I think we’ll be fine if we spend the night as wolves. The temperature shouldn’t be so cold that we can’t handle it. As for patrol and watch,” he pulls out his phone to check the time, “we’ll pair up for the night and morning shifts, that way all of us get at least a few hours of sleep.” Just the word sleep has Jotaro suppressing a yawn. “I’ll take one spot on the morning patrol, anyone else have a preference?”
You nod and speak up, “I’ll stay up for night shift, I’m not an early riser.” You blush and turn away from Jotaro as you realizes he’s seen you in action- or inaction- two mornings in a row now.
“I don’t really have a preference.” Kakyoin says from your other side, he must have interpreted your movement as looking for his answer, not just avoiding Jotaro.
“I guess that makes me the deciding vote, I’d rather stay up for the night watch than wake up early as well.”
With the patrols figured out for the night everyone starts to prepare for bed. It turns out though that you’re the only one with rough camping experience as the guys watch perplexed as you start gathering a pile of leaves to make a more comfortable spot than just the hard ground. “What, you guys never camped without gear before?” Three sets of eyes look away, embarrassed as Joseph starts cackling in the background.
“You’re going to have to show these city boys the ropes (Y/N)! I’m sure you can handle it.” Joseph says as he climbs into the cleared space in the back of the truck and shuts the door behind him.
“Wait, seriously? None of you have camped out without tents before?”
“Unfortunately, Mr. Joestar is right,” Kakyoin explains as he takes a step forward to better observe what you are doing, “is it really more complicated than just transforming to stay warm?”
“Well, that will keep you warm but it won’t make it more comfortable to sleep on the ground. Help me gather up some more leaves, we’ll make a two-person pile to use as a mattress. Then I’ll help you guys bundle up some pillows out of clothes so they don’t unravel overnight.” Jotaro raises an eyebrow but just shrugs and does as you instruct, the other two falling in line as well. Soon a pretty decent leaf pile is collected and you spread it out large enough for two adult males to fit comfortably. After showing the guys how to roll up pillows tight enough to withstand the tossing and turning that comes from sleeping on the ground you all scavenge the area for branches and sticks to keep the fire fed overnight. “Excellent! I’ll make campers out of you guys yet!”
“How is it you know all this anyway? You said you traveled a lot, but is this how you normally got from place to place?” Kakyoin asks as he drops off the last pile of sticks from his arms.
You wave off the comment, “Oh no, I usually had enough money to get a motel room or something. In a pinch I could sleep in my car for a night if I absolutely needed to. I actually learned all this camping stuff from family reunions. I have a lot of family when you start counting cousins and second cousins, and every year there is a reunion at the beginning of summer. We spend the whole weekend as wolves, hunting, racing, sleeping, occasionally fighting…” you smile and slap your hands free of dirt. “It’s really a great time, living wild for a weekend. Gets a lot of pent-up energy out, you know?”
“That sounds like a rather nice tradition.” Kakyoin gives you a kind smile, “Perhaps we should consider adopting it?” he turns his head towards Jotaro who just hums contemplatively before nodding. Another wave of contagious yawns overtakes the pack and you all decide its time to get some rest.
You all quickly shed your human forms for wolf fur, your senses sparking alive as your form shifts. Colors dim as your new sight allows for better night vision at the cost of reduced variation. You inhale deeply, expecting only the smells of woods and campfire but something slightly sour hangs in the air. Closing your eyes and lifting your nose to the wind you try and follow the trail but it’s gone as suddenly as it appeared, the wind chasing it away from you through the trees. You shake your head and snort to clear your nose. It was probably just some trash or something a previous camper forgot in the area.
Jotaro and Kakyoin get situated on the bed of leaves and Polnareff motions for you to join him at the edge of trees for your first patrol. The journey through the woods is slow going at first, both of you slightly on edge, not knowing what to expect. While you had more experience ‘living wild’ as you called it, Polnareff obviously had more experience hunting and tracking. He makes it a point to stop often to mark your trail with scratches on the trees and brushing up on other shorter bushes to leave his scent. He laughs at you a bit when he catches your curious gaze on the tree he just mauled, “What’s the matter? I thought you were used to camping out in this form?”
“Well yeah, but… I was always stuck hanging out with the pups. My dad and uncles split up patrol duty.”
“Ah, well in that case let me show you. I usually do this when I’m on a job to find someone in the city; its much easier to follow your nose back rather than loose track of a target because you were looking at a map.” He gestures to a tree ahead, “Go ahead and help out. It will probably help keep other animals away too if they smell too many predators in the area.”
“I was wondering why I didn’t hear anything moving around tonight. You think we scarred everything off?” you sniff the air again; you could tell some deer and rabbits had been through recently but only their scent remained now.
“Probably. They’d have to be pretty ill equipped to stay in an area with a bunch of wolves roaming about- or humans for that matter.” He lifts his nose and jogs ahead a few paces to a large boulder, “Here- this is where we started at. Now we just turn left and we’ll be back at camp.” You blink perplexed, you hadn’t really thought about how many turns you’d taken during your walk. Perhaps you were more tired than you thought.
The fire is burning low when you get back to the camp so you feed it some of the branches collected earlier, keeping the coals burning hot enough to reach the sleeping men and keep them a bit more comfortable. You take a seat next to Polnareff and grab one of the drink bottles from the snack pile. It’s a little tricky with your hands being larger and less dexterous than you are used to but you manage to open it and hand it to Polnareff before grabbing one for yourself. The lack of animal sounds around the campsite is still a little unnerving but you’re soon distracted when Polnareff turns to you and starts telling you about the time he had to covertly chase a target through an office building while dressed as a mailman, trying to catch the target in the act of cheating with his co-worker.
You take turns trying to one up each other with ridiculous stories, keeping an eye on the fire and the woods at the same time. You can’t help but let your attention drift every so often as Jotaro or Kakyoin move around in their sleep. Polnareff’s pointy elbow is suddenly nudging your side as he laughs at you, apparently, you’d been staring at the alpha long enough for Pol to notice. You quickly turn away even though your fur would cover any blush on your face. Standing up and moving to the woods again you initiate another patrol round, Polnareff snickering as you follow the trail left last time and refresh the scent marks.
The rest of your night on watch goes smoothly, and by the time your last patrol comes around you’re feeling a bit sleep drunk, playfully pushing Polnareff around on your walk as he teases you for being so concerned with keeping the fire warm and setting aside snacks for Jotaro and Kakyoin when they woke up. Really you were just trying to keep Polnareff from eating all the good snacks. You laugh and give a shove and he makes a show of exaggeratedly falling into a tree.
“Such violence! Just wait! I’ll tell on you to Joseph; we’ll see who’s laughing then!” the large wolfman throws a hand to his forehead like a swooning southern lady and points an accusing finger at you.
“Tell on me? What, you’re going to admit you can’t hold your own against me? He’ll just laugh and call you a spoiled pup again.” You continue slowly on the patrol path and wait for him to catch up.
“No, I’ll just tell him how you were making googly eyes at his grandson all night. You will never have another moments rest!” his triumphant smirk is infuriating even in his wolf form so you shove him off the path again and race back to camp, laughing as he playfully shoves you off course as he passes you.
Back at camp your eyes immediately go to the sleeping wolves and you have to admit maybe Polnareff has a point about you making ‘googly eyes’ at Jotaro; he and Kakyoin are tangled up in what would be a puppy pile if they were younger. You’re very tempted for a moment to not worry about waking them up for their patrol shift and just join the pile yourself, but your rational mind overcomes your instincts and you carefully wake them. Kakyoin wakes up quickly and makes his way to the remaining snacks near the fire. Jotaro however looks half asleep still so you keep him seated for a few moments longer on the leaf pile as you check the wounds on his shoulder hadn’t opened up or gotten too dirty in his sleep. You help him brush some crumbled leaves from his fur and you both make your way to the fire and sitting logs.
You grab a few packs of jerky and some drinks to help Jotaro wake up and you can’t help the startled yelp as he grabs your hand and pulls you down to sit next to him. You’re almost uncomfortably close, your side brushing against his any time either of you inhales. Jotaro doesn’t seem to notice how tense you are, he still looks half asleep as he mechanically eats the snacks you offered him while staring into the fire. You ignore Polnareff’s snickering and Kakyoin’s knowing looks from across the fire pit and hand over a drink to the alpha at your side. His arm brushes against yours as he takes it and you shiver as the contact marks you with his scent, even if it was accidental it is a highly intimate thing, usually reserved for very close pack mates.
“Did anything interesting happen while we were asleep? Anything we should know about?” Kakyoin tries to draw in Polnareff’s attention before he can start teasing you or Jotaro.
Polnareff is hyper focused on the opportunity to tease you though, “Non, non. In fact, you are witnessing the most interesting thing to happen all night,” he gestures to you both. Jotaro must be more awake as he looks back over his shoulder in confusion before he realizes what Pol is implying. You hear him mutter something as he shifts away from you, but only by a few inches so you were no longer joined at the hip.
“Seriously Polnareff?” he yelps and fumbles with a water bottle you throw at him. “But really, it has been pretty uneventful. We must have scared off everything around here.”
Jotaro tenses next to you and you look at him with a questioning tilt of your head. “You haven’t seen any animals around? Not even on perimeter patrol?”
“Uh, no. we just assumed we scared them all away.” Polnareff scratches his head, also confused by Jotaro’s concern. “Isn’t it natural to flee a place is a group of hunters moves in?”
“Maybe at first, but at least the animals in the trees should have come back by now…” Jotaro rubs his eyes and lowers his head with a huff, “Whatever, I’m probably over thinking it.” You glance around the camp site again, the peaceful quiet now more ominous as shadows cast from the fire dance behind trees and bushes.
“Oh, thanks a lot Jotaro. Giving me the creeps right before I go to bed.” Polnareff’s fur is standing on end making him appear comically fluffy. “I’m blaming you if I get no rest tonight. And after (Y/N) and I did such a good job on our watch.” He huffs as he attempts to smooth down his fur again.
The red wolf next to him just chuckles and shakes his head, “Well no one said you have to go to sleep. You’re free to stay up and keep an eye on camp if you want.” Kakyoin stands up and stretches as Polnareff mumbles to himself about needing his beauty sleep and shuffles over to the leaf bed.
You and Jotaro rise from your seats and you give another skeptical glance around at the trees before grabbing hold of Jotaro’s arm as he starts to walk away. This may be becoming a habit for you, grabbing onto his hand for reassurance. He faces you and tilts his head an you search for words as you make eye contact with him. “I…um… just…” you glance away and refocus on his face when he gives your hand a squeeze “Be careful?”
He nods and his stoic features soften slightly as he smiles, “We will, don’t worry. Go get some rest.” His hand lest go of yours and trails up your arm and around to your back to nudge you in the right direction. Too tired to put up any resistance, you follow his order. You’re asleep almost as soon as you lay down next to Polnareff in the leaf pile.
Kakyoin waits patiently at the entrance to the patrol path you and Polnareff created as Jotaro checks around camp. Avdol and the old man still asleep in the truck, the coals of the fire still hot enough that the heat reaches your sleeping spot, and there should be enough wood to keep it that way till morning. He’s satisfied with the state of things and casts one last critical glance to the shadows beyond the tree line before joining Kakyoin on the path. The silence of the forest is unnerving but easy to ignore, Polnareff was probably right about the animals keeping a wide berth around a group of predators.
His concentration is pulled from the surrounding woods by Kakyoin. “(Y/N) seems to be really fitting in well with the pack.” The red wolf faces ahead with a straight face, but there is a glint in his eyes as he glances back to Jotaro to gauge his reaction. “I don’t think I’ve seen you warm up to anybody as fast as you have to her. It’s a bit shocking you decided to trust her so soon if I’m honest.” He tries to keep his face neutral, but Jotaro can see the beginnings of a smug smirk.
“You saying I shouldn’t trust her?” Jotaro throws the statement back at him, years of experience turning Kakyoin’s teasing comments on their head coming into practice.
“Ha, no, not at all. She more than proved herself today.” He pauses, a more serious look on his face as he continues, “But even you have to admit, you’ve been acting very strange since you met her.”
“It’s… complicated. I don’t really want to talk about it.” Jotaro shakes his head and continues moving on.
Kakyoin stops in his tracks, “You know I wouldn’t push you unless I was worried about you. This may be your last chance for a while to get it out in the open. No audience, just us and the trees.” Kakyoin gestures to the woods and waits as Jotaro stops and contemplates his options.
He heaves a sigh before continuing to walk and Kakyoin grins knowing he’s won. “It’s complicated because I don’t really understand what’s going on myself. I know I don’t really know her yet, but at the same time I don’t care about that at all.” Jotaro ruffles his hair in frustration and embarrassment. “The old man thinks its my instincts trying to tell me she’s my mate, or potential mate at least. Logically, I know I should take it slow and get to know her first like a normal person, but…”
“But we’re not normal people Jotaro.” Kakyoin nods sagely, the internal issues clearer to him now. “But she’s not a normal person either. From what I can see, she’s just as eager to get closer to you too.” He can see Jotaro’s shoulders slump in relief as they keep walking the path. “You do have options here, but you need to figure out what you want first. And you don’t have to take Joseph’s words to heart. We’re not going to have the same thoughts on pack bonds and mates as the full wolf members of the pack do.”
“True.” Jotaro sighs again, “Maybe it’s just my human half making me over think this. Gramps and the others don’t seem to have a problem just following their instincts wherever they lead to.”
“Well, that doesn’t always work out perfectly either. That’s what my father did all his life and you know I only call home for mother’s sake these days.”
“I don’t think that’s a trait limited to wolves in that regard.” There is more of a growl in his voice than Jotaro intended. He clears his throat and continues, “Some fathers are just like that.” The rest of the walk back to camp is silent and Jotaro makes himself busy tending the fire when they arrive.
Kakyoin is equally subdued and takes a seat on the log next to Jotaro after raiding the drink selection. He hands over a bottle of beer and Jotaro quirks his head in question. Kakyoin just shrugs and pops the cap off his own, they each take a long swig and stare into the fire.
After a while its time to walk the perimeter path again, the red and black wolves moving quietly to the edge of the camp. Jotaro can’t help but sneak one more glance to where you and Polnareff are sleeping before giving the whole area one last critical look. He joins Kakyoin at the entrance but is stopped by Kakyoin’s outstretched arm before he can continue on the path. The red wolf has his nose tilted to the air so Jotaro follows suit. A slightly sour smell, like a mixture of garbage and deer musk assaults his nose before a breeze makes him loose the scent. Kakyoin must have lost it too based on the way he opens his eyes and searches the woods around. Nothing seems out of place, all the trees around silent and still. The animals have still not reappeared and the silence makes each footstep loud and clear as a bell. Another strong breeze makes the trees creak and groan, leaves shifting and rattling on the ground.
The soured smell is back again as they reach a landmark tree indicating they need to turn left soon, but as they pass it by, they are met with unfamiliar woods in front of them. The trees groan in the wind again, but Jotaro notices no leaves shift from their spots on the ground. They both freeze and turn in place, Kakyoin barely catches movement from his right where the landmark tree is, the roots undulating and creeping like snakes before quickly resettling.
“Jojo, the trees…”
“Yeah, I saw it. Not just the trees though, look at the branches on that bush.” The shrub in question was undoubtedly larger than it was a few seconds ago, its branches and twigs looked like they were caught in the wind but were using the movement to disguise how they grew and stretched themselves towards the wolves.
Jotaro’s fur stands straight up, there was no telling how far off the path they’ve been led. Were they even in range of the camp to hear if anything was also going wrong there? They’d have to rely on the scent trail to get back before… The sour smell from earlier is suddenly overpowering as a few trees about fifty feet away move on their own to make way for a giant creature lumbering towards them. Its beady eyes are focused on them and it grins, revealing jagged teeth as it lifts its arm. The plants around them writhe and tangle themselves at the leshin’s command.
Kakyoin growls loudly as he cuts away reaching branches with his claws. Jotaro focuses on the creature before them, looking for any obvious weaknesses. Its body is gigantic, probably twelve feet tall even though it was hunched over and dragged its knuckles like a great ape while it walked. Rough textured skin peeked out between ragged pelts and tufts of mossy hair on its body, probably the most vulnerable targets at a glance. On its head it wore a deer skull like a helmet, the antlers scraping branches above it with each bob of its head.
It’s distracted with pushing a tree out of its way to make room for its body and Jotaro uses the moment to rush forward, Kakyoin following right behind him. They quickly close the distance and lunge at the beast leaving deep gouges in the creature’s skin. No blood rises to the surface of the cuts though, in fact, the leshin makes almost no note of the injuries. They repeat their attack, but the rough patches only splinter like tree bark as they make contact. It retaliates and swings a fist at them but it’s too slow to connect.
They quickly fall back out of range to regroup. Jotaro growls lowly with his hackles raised, “Its skin is too thick to break through.” The leshin raises its arms again and they cut away the creeping branches.
“We can out run it though. Get back to camp and get everyone out of here.” Kakyoin pants as he slashes at vines threatening to anchor them to the ground. Jotaro nods and turns towards the woods, Kakyoin leading the way back to camp. The creature catches onto their plan though and with a chilling wail the trees in front of them weave into a solid wall before their eyes.
Roots spring up from underground and snare their legs too quickly to cut away. The creeping vines quickly climb up past their hips and tangle their claws when they come close enough. Their struggle is fruitless and the leshin lumbers closer to them making up for its speed handicap by totally immobilizing its prey. It reaches for Kakyoin and its massive hand is large enough to completely wrap around his torso as it plucks him from the ground.
Jotaro’s eyes widen and redoubles his efforts to get free as Kakyoin is lifted towards the creature’s mouth. He glances around desperately looking for something that can aid him before it’s too late. The trees and roots are still undulating wildly, rocks and dead branches pushed out of the way for the living plants. Living plants. Of course, it was only able to control living things! He’s finally able to free one of his arms and grabs a rock laying near his feet. It flies free of his grasp and shatters the nose of the dear skull on the leshin’s head sending shards of bone into the creature’s forehead and eyes.
The leshin howls in pain using its free hand to brush away the shards and lowers Kakyoin towards the ground. Kakyoin had been scratching and clawing at the gigantic hand still squeezing him but uses the opportunity to grab onto a large rock as he’s swung low to the ground. The creature recovers and swings Kakyoin back up towards its mouth. The rock Kakyoin is holding slams into its face as he swings his arms with all his strength and the creature wails in pain again.
Keeping hold of the large rock, Kakyoin quickly shoves it into the mouth of the screaming leshin, sinking his arms up to the elbow to lodge the rock in its throat. He’s barely able to withdraw before the leshin snaps its jaws shut. Its wails and cries now reduced to gurgling choking as its eyes begin to bulge and look franticly around the woods. Panic is starting to set in as it’s unable to draw in air, its grip on Kakyoin finally releasing and control over the plants waning. The drop to the floor is jarring and Kakyoin scrambles to regain his footing, one arm braced across his stomach where the leshin’s grip had tightened painfully.
Jotaro is finally free of the vines and roots that kept him bound in place and sprints over to where Kakyoin is hunched over, grabbing him under the arms and dragging him away from the creature as it fumbles and thrashes. Its gnarled hands grasp at its throat, clawing and scraping away at its own bark-like skin. It rises to its full height and stumbles backwards, beady eyes rolling in their sockets and tongue hanging from its gaping mouth. One of its arms flails wildly before making contact with its mouth, pushing fingers into its own throat to try and dislodge the rock but only pushing it deeper. The lack of air finally makes it loses consciousness and it falls back into the trees with a crash.
Kakyoin stands, panting as they watch the leshin twitch in its death throws, both he and Jotaro winded but thankfully just bruised from the encounter. The woods around them are again still and silent, trees and roots creaking and groaning in protest to their new locations but no longer moving on their own. They keep their eyes locked onto the creature as they catch their breath but as soon as they recover, they turn back to the path. The markings on the trees can’t be trusted to lead them so they rely on smell as they run through the woods back to camp.
They burst past the line of trees into camp and take stock of the scene. The fire is burning low, but everything else seems to be just as they left it. Jotaro motions to the truck and Kakyoin nods and makes his way over to wake Joseph and Avdol. From where he’s standing, he can see you and Polnareff are still sleeping, your face pushed into the white wolf’s back for warmth and Polnareff has wrapped himself around one of the makeshift pillows. Jotaro shakes you awake first; you grumble and reluctantly roll over to look at him. “We’re leaving early.”
A kick of adrenalin feels like ice shooting through your veins, fully alert and stiffly sitting up to look around the camp for danger. Nothing seems out of place so you turn your attention to Jotaro. He’s panting slightly but seems fine other than some random leaves and twigs stuck in his fur. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?” you ask as you stand up from the leaf bed and keep a careful eye on the woods.
Polnareff is grumbling as he’s woken up too but Jotaro turns to you and answers, “We encountered a creature, I’m not even sure what it was.” Another spike of adrenalin rushes you, “We took it down but I don’t want to take any chances that it had friends out here. I’ll explain more in the car when we’re out of here.” You and Polnareff nod and help him to quickly pack up camp.
Joseph and Avdol make their way out of the truck just as you finish smothering the fire, Kakyoin behind them and once again in his human form. Jotaro drops his transformation as Joseph approaches him and claps his hand to Jotaro’s shoulder as he looks him over for new injuries. A few new scrapes have appeared on his skin but you were correct earlier when you didn’t see any serious ones. He huffs as he completes his visual check and pulls Jotaro into a tight hug. “We’re really having some shitty luck lately, aren’t we son?” he pulls away with a grin as Jotaro mumbles out his trademark ‘good grief’, but you see the small smirk on his face too. “Kakyoin told us the… thing… out there is dead?”
“Yeah, but I’d rather we get out of here as soon as possible. We don’t know if it was the only one here.” Avdol nods at the order and gets to work arranging the seats and loading gear into the truck. You and Polnareff are the last to drop your transformations and the chilly morning air causes you to shiver. It’s still a few hours till dawn, but soon you are all ready and seated in the warm truck, Joseph is acting as navigator as Avdol drives carefully out of the woods, the last leg of your journey to New York City now underway.
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Author’s Note:
I just keep falling further and further behind, don’t I? I try to write for at least an hour a day on my lunch break, but between this chapter being SOOO long and my lunches being shorter lately... well better late than never! 
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ladyinbooks · 3 years
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How good friends are hird and samiel? Are they closer than hird and lane?
Hi Anon,
I love this question, thank you! (And fair warning: it gives me so much of an excuse to talk about Samiel and Hird!)
So the very short answer is: yes. Ultimately, Hird and Samiel end up closer than Hird and Lane.
The much longer answer is: their friendship is much, much slower to develop. Hird and Jay like each other fine - they grow into close friends and trust one another (I think it's being chucked into the situation in Icarus, Burning that sort of bonds them together).
Samiel and Hird on the other hand, sort of come to a grudging mutual respect by the end of IB. They collaborate to fix Jay's mess, and they're both on the same wavelength when it comes to being seriously annoyed with his actions. It forms a mutual sort of camaraderie, that neither of them thinks is going to go anywhere, because they come from very different backgrounds, and neither of them is particularly willing to forgive and forget the respective grudges both of them have on a personal and a political level.
Then, Samiel heads off to join up as a Keryx with the Medusae, and sometime later Hird does too. Archon Ssafyr (being the sneaky smart cookie that she is), takes one look at the pair of them, and realises there's actually far greater benefit in pairing the two of them up for missions. They're going to learn far more about each other's thinking and culture than the Medusae could get from them by separating them.
What happens next is, I suspect, a series of missions that don't exactly go well, but aren't a disaster either. At some point Hird - much to her utter horror - realises that she has far more in common with Samiel than she'd realised. Worse, she finds she actually likes him as a person. They have similar outlooks; they tend to react to things in the same way, and I think their respective problem solving skills compliment each other. Hird also, I think, discovers her furiously protective streak is somewhat triggered when it comes to Samiel (in a way it isn't so much with Jay).
Samiel has a similar experience, I think. And around the same time, they both come to the mutual agreement that they're not going to admit they're actually friends, but quite frankly they'd take a bullet for one another (and then complain about it after).
In the long run, I think they also discover that unlike their respective better halves, they sometimes can't sit still and enjoy the politicking, or the peace and quiet. I think occasionally (once they're no longer formally working with the Medusae), they go off careening around the galaxy, creating trouble. (Jay lets them, because he's not going to deal with the headache of the pair of them causing havoc on Elysium, and Venndred just thinks it's good for Hird to get out of the house and do things, bless him.)
In short: yes, I think they become a disaster duo of a bromance, and both of them are genuinely appalled by it. XD
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ceruleanwhore · 4 years
Text
TDP should’ve gone full YA and all the kids’ stuff in there drags it down
The Dragon Prince had a lot of potential to be really good but it’s just another example of a show where they tried to appeal to both kids and adults and, in not just picking a lane and staying in it, the quality turned out… not great. At times it honestly just doesn’t make sense, like how Gren, the way he’s written and portrayed, never could have possibly become a freaking commander. Not to mention just how many of the characters are or act like complete idiots for the sake of an attempt at humor, which, for me, just wrecks it. Let Soren be serious and intelligent and show how he constantly struggles and pushes himself to be ‘good enough’ because, no matter what he does, Claudia’s still the favorite and his father still doesn’t value him. Let Gren be gentle and kind, but not stupid, but, then, when he gets taken by Viren, show a whole new side of him; show us the commander. Let Claudia hide her intelligence under her quirkiness because she uses it as a tool to disarm people so they don’t take her seriously or suspect just how crafty she can be. But no, they didn’t do that, so, instead, we just have a few iterations of Dumb: The Personality, you know, for the kids.
Also, the thing with Rayla’s hand really pissed me off. It’s so common in shows like this and avatar for the team to put a character in a really tough situation and then just… bail them out so they don’t have to actually deal with consequences or fix the problem (think the lion turtle). Rayla should’ve lost her hand, period. It would’ve been really powerful, for a moonshadow elf to lose their hand in exchange for saving the life of the prince they were sent to kill. I mean, think about that- they gave us literal assassins and killed characters but losing a hand would be too much? It’s almost like saying that someone sustaining an injury that would leave them disabled is “too adult” but freaking assassination isn’t. This is where we get back to that core issue of them trying to appeal to kids- they feel like they can’t have Rayla lose her hand because that would be like punishing her for doing something good and that’s not an easy thing to show kids or explain to them. See also: the absolute fuckery of Soren’s temporary paralysis. He should’ve stayed paralyzed or, if Claudia forcibly cured him, ignoring his expressed wishes, she should’ve been punished for it, or don’t do it at all, but this ableism shit needs to die, quick. That whole thing seemed to be for the sake of not punishing someone who just turned out to be good, as well, and it’s fucking dumb.
 So, then, I consider the black and white morality to be part of how it’s aimed at children, so I’d like to cover that as well. To start with, there’s the way that Viren was made into a clear cut Disney villain instead of being a more intelligent, subtle, morally grey character who is convincing to the audience in their belief that what they are doing is right and good. There’s also the very set “primal magic good, dark magic bad” schtick which they took so far that they actually gave Callum, a fucking human, primal magic just so he could do magic but like not in the bad way. Along with that, we’re supposed to be convinced that the humans are at fault for everything (because dark magic) and Xadia did nothing wrong all while it’s supposed to appear that there’s some sort of debate around this in the show in an effort to make it appear less black and white than it actually is. How do we know this? Because the moonshadow elves are shown as being justified in their revenge on Harrow and the conflict ends when a human and an elf return Zym to the dragon queen and she suddenly doesn’t care that the son of the man who killed her husband is in front of her and everything’s good because they helped Xadia and rejected dark magic.
And, then, there’s Claudia. They went so hard on how literal they were with her in relation to dark magic that they actually had her hair change. The fact that she was good and then kept using dark magic and turned eeeevil is bullshit and just, again, reflects that super black and white view the show has. Instead, she should’ve remained normal, stayed with Soren (because that’s what they did when their parents split anyway), and then she should’ve been the one to kill Viren and that should have served as the turning point for her due to the psychological impact of having killed her father, even though she knew it was right. Then, like in the show, she would get the Aaravos bug and become his new pawn or whatever, slowly turning evil until, in some finale, she’d have to face Callum (who would still be in love with her because I am sick to death of the trope where someone has been in love with someone else for a really long time but then just drops that to be with someone else) and then, in a way that would parallel the death of Viren, Callum would have to defeat her, the new villain. But no, instead we got bullshit.
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