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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

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Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader (part 7)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: um just implied smut and fluff and a reference to bdsm I guess?? but it's pretty chill overall

Liked by starkcosmetics and others

y/n.y/l/n okay first of all, it takes an act of god to get a picture of this guy smiling, but it’s always worth it. he really changed everything for me and I can’t thank him enough for that. so happy ❤️

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caroldanvers 😍😍😍

flowercrowny/n oh my god this is so sweet i’m gonna cry

1 HOUR AGO

He smiled as he stared down at the post you’d made, remembering how much effort you’d put into finding the perfect picture (in your opinion; he thought he looked kinda dopey in it) as well as writing and re-writing your caption.

The speed at which your post gained likes and comments was inconceivable to him; even more impressive was the speed at which gossip rags were picking up the story. Sure enough, his phone’s alerts to new headlines about you were not only going off like crazy, but had started to include news about himself as well.

Y/N Y/L/N Shocks With Romantic Instagram Post, Confirms Dating Rumors

You’ll Never Guess Which Hollywood Starlet Is Dating Her Driver

Who is James Barnes? Everything We Know About Y/N Y/L/N’s New Beau

Skimming one of the articles, he was impressed at how much information they’d managed to get without actually getting anything from you or him. Born in Brooklyn, disabled Army veteran, worked a list of odd jobs before becoming your driver and bodyguard. ‘No social media presence, prefers to keep a low profile’ one of them said; you can say that again, Bucky chuckled to himself when he read it.

He found another from People and didn’t particularly appreciate that it spent half the time going through all your past exes and rumored partners (turned out ‘rumored’ is a fancy word for ‘a bunch of fans deluded themselves so hard that it somehow turned into news without any proof necessary’). But he still smiled when he got to the part that was actually about you and him.

‘The relationship is pretty new but they’re so happy together,’ a source close to the couple reported.

Close indeed; that statement came from your publicist, who he’d never even meet.

‘He’s a very private guy and she’s got this huge following, so they’re sort of an odd couple in that way, but she knows her fans are respectful and will let them have their own life outside of the spotlight.’

Bucky wasn’t sure that the respectfulness of fans was such a given here, but he hoped you were right. To be fair, they’d been very sweet on your original post insofar.

However, when he scrolled to the bottom of the celebrity magazine articles and realized they had their own comments section, he discovered that they were a little less forgiving than the ones on your Instagram.

Is this the best she thinks she can do? So sad tbh :(

a military guy…. yikes, she could get any guy she wants and she goes for a murderer.

He looks like a hobo that found a coupon for a free haircut lol

I don’t buy it, I know she’ll always love Pietro!

Pietro being your former co-star that so many of your fans were convinced was actually your soulmate. From what he’d heard from you, those speculations had made things so uncomfortable between the two of you that it killed your friendship. Those were nothing, though, compared to the comments about someone you actually had dated.

she’s obviously not over sam… they were so good together

He’d better watch out for her ex, he still likes tweets about her and they have so much chemistry

Wait, she’s not still with Sam Wilson?? I could’ve sworn they’d been dating for, like, five years.

You were scrolling through your phone with a smile as you walked past where he was sitting on the couch, and he just couldn’t help himself from asking even though he knew it wasn’t the best idea. “Do I need to worry about this Sam thing?” he blurted out, trying to play it cool and not sound too anxious. “People are really obsessed with you two…”

“Sam and I…” you sighed, staring off into space for a second. He made himself anxious imagining what you were thinking about in that moment. “I haven’t talked to him in… years? I think it’s just because our relationship was so public that people are still talking about it. And it had a lot of gossip material— we did a movie together, people thought it was sweet that we got together during production, it was great promotion for the picture… and from the outside, we made a lot of sense for each other. But he has his own problems. I loved him, but… he wasn’t ever going to be a one-girl kinda guy.”

“But you’re not just any one girl. You’re… you know, you,” he emphasized.

“You’ve been reading too many headlines,” you shook your head as you sat down beside him. “Please don’t turn into one of those guys who thinks of me as a celebrity first. Before that—” you pointed to your own name where it was bolded on his screen in the trending topics page of Twitter— “was popping up on movie posters and in gossip magazines, it was just my name. And I’m not perfect. Not even close.”

Bucky sighed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him and holding you tightly. “And before I knew you were famous, or rich, or incredibly talented, I was totally obsessed with you just for who you are.”

“You’re too fucking amazing,” you sighed as you held his face and gave him a gentle kiss— the kind of kiss that instantly melted his heart and banished his worries. When you pulled back and looked up at him with a smile, it was like everything else just… faded away. “Don’t read the comments, okay? None of them matter.”

He smiled and brushed his thumb over your cheek, overwhelmed by not only the softness of your skin but of your spirit as well. In all his life he’d never been handled so… gently, with so much care. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbled, not even really realizing he’d said it aloud until you gave him a beaming smile.

“I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend,” you giggled pridefully.

“Seriously? I can… very easily believe it,” he scoffed.

“I just mean… you’re so…” you searched for the words. “You’re actually good to me, that’s the thing. I’m not used to that.”

“You deserve the world,” he assured. “I’m just gonna keep trying to give you as much of it as I can find.”

He watched his hand trail over your face, down your neck and to your chest where he played with the hem of your t-shirt.

"It's odd to know there are millions of people who are jealous of me,” he admitted quietly, remembering some aggressive comments from some very angry dudes who had apparently also watched your nude scene a few too many times.

"Do you like it? Do you like how it feels to know you're making them angry every time you touch me?"

"Couldn't care less," he refuted. "Nobody else matters when I'm touchin' you."

“Do you maybe wanna… touch me a little more about it?” you smirked, opening your legs slightly in invitation.

“Always.”

Bucky had, thankfully, not let the newfound fame get to his head. In fact, he had demanded that the two of you hunker down in the house, since he feared that going out would lead to being recognized. What he apparently hadn’t anticipated was that that might not be enough.

“Will you get that?” you requested when the gate buzzed, too wrapped up in the book you were reading to answer the intercom.

He hopped up and held down the button to communicate with the gate speaker. “Who is it?” he asked.

“I’ve got a delivery from Anjappar Chettinad on 23rd?”

Bucky didn’t even reply before hitting the green button and granting access to the driveway. BEEP BEEP BEEP! you heard the gate signal its opening, and the car pulling around up to the door. Bucky didn’t open it until there was a knock, greeting the delivery guy with a smile and the necessary cash.

“I’ve got a lamb korma, hyderabadi mutton dum biryani and an order of— woah,” the man suddenly stopped, staring at Bucky’s face. “Are you—?’

“Hungry? Yes,” he frowned.

“You’re the guy dating— holy shit, congrats man,” he beamed, smacking Bucky on the shoulder pridefully before leaning in with a mischievous smirk. “Say, is she a freak or what?”

“She is,” you piped up from the couch, making both men turn their heads; but one was chuckling while the other looked mortified. “You better not have forgotten my paneer pakora or I’m gonna chain you up and whip you.”

“Uh, I— no, I got it right here,” he promised weakly, handing the bag over to Bucky and starting to dash away before Bucky grabbed his arm, making the smaller man whimper fearfully.

“You forgot the money,” Bucky reminded him gruffly, stuffing the bills into the driver’s front pocket.

Finally, he let go, and the delivery man instantly pulled away, rubbing his arm and looking a bit like a kicked puppy as he went back to his car and drove away.

“You didn’t need to scare him that bad,” Bucky chuckled.

“I could say the same to you! Grabbing somebody with the metal arm like that will put the fear of God into them pretty fast.”

“I didn’t mean to grab him that hard,” he admitted, examining the prosthetic hand as he came back to the couch with the bag of food, handing it to you while he focused on watching his motorized fingers curl and uncurl. “I think I need to get this thing recalibrated… it’s been bugging out lately.”

“I dunno, it was working just fine last night,” you smiled, remembering how delightfully cool those fingers felt inside you.

Bucky seemed to miss it entirely, though, as he stared off into space. “I can’t believe I got… recognized.”

“You’re a star,” you winked. “And not just with random delivery drivers. I’ve had a lot of press requests, everybody wants to be the first one to get nice pictures of us together— we’ve had a dozen event invites as a couple.”

“Seriously?!” he scoffed, snapping back to reality slightly enough

“Yeah, and look what came in same-day mail this morning!” You leaned over to shuffle through the mail on the side table before finding and handing him a letter in a gold-embossed envelope, watching him read what you knew was inside.

The Hollywood Foreign Press Association extends an invitation to Y/N Y/L/N and James Barnes to the annual Grant Banquet in support of the Young Artists Fund.

“It seems like a good first event for us,” you explained. “Relatively small and low stakes, it’s for a good cause…”

“Are you sure I’m ready to be, you know… seen? By people?”

You scoffed, hardly believing how insecure he could be sometimes. “You look great, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Will I have to talk to anybody other than you?” he asked, grimacing as if that were a form of brutal torture.

“Probably,” you admitted.

His frown deepened. “What if I say the wrong thing?”

“I’m not that worried about you,” you smirked. “You’re a lot better at this stuff than you think you are.”

“I don’t have anything to wear…”

You smirked, a little too proud of yourself, when you remembered the email your publicist had forwarded to you just this morning. “Hugo Boss will pay you $1500 to wear one of their suits on the carpet.”

“They’ll pay me to wear free clothes?” he repeated with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that’s one of the cooler things about fame,” you laughed. “I make a grand every time I wear this watch outside!”

“I guess I should send them my measurements then…” he trailed off. “Any chance I can get in on that watch deal?”

“No, but you can make $50 by getting papped at Jamba Juice.”

He paused for a moment, scratching the back of his neck as he thought. “Is the smoothie comped?”

“I don’t know. Do you want me to ask?”

“...kinda…” he admitted with a shy smile.

“Well, I will, and I’ll RSVP to this invite saying we’ll be there next week,” you decided as you started to open up the food, but Bucky stopped you by reaching for your hands.

“Are we really doing this?” he asked.

“If you want to,” you mitigated.

“Of course I do. I guess I have to accept that you’re actually willing to be seen with me,” he chuckled. “It’s just sort of hard to believe.”

You leaned in and kissed him; it was meant to be a casual, reassuring peck but he held you closer and you melted into him, moaning softly at his touch as you started to climb into his lap.

“The food’s gonna get cold,” he reminded you with a mumble against your lips.

Unfortunately, your literal hunger was a bit too strong to ignore, even with the growing intensity of a metaphorical hunger for Bucky. “Alright,” you relented, getting off of him and returning your attention to the meal on the table. “Just know that I really, really want to be seen together, in public, just in case anybody missed the news about us already. I’m not embarrassed by you or afraid you’re going to do something dumb. I…”

One of those words that can’t be unsaid started to bubble up in your throat and you coughed, banishing the thought.

“I really like you. I think we have something special.”

He smiled gently, giving you one more kiss on the cheek. “I think so, too.”

Since this was slightly less of a big deal than a premiere or press tour, you had managed to convince your styling team to let you dress yourself, which was why he was laying on the bed and talking to you through the bathroom door while you put on your gown.

“Do you want me to hire a new driver?” you prompted him, voice muffled slightly as he imagined your head covered in the fabric, trying to navigate through the dress. “I don’t want you to feel… I don’t know, like a servant?”

“A servant? You’re still paying me,” he reminded you. “You are still paying me, right?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “but still, I would hate it if you felt like staff. You’re my boyfriend!”

(His heart still fluttered every time you said it.)

“No new driver,” he decided. “I can drive just fine, and considering how things went between us… let’s not open the door for anybody else,” he smirked, making you laugh in that way you did when he made a stupid joke but you still liked it somehow.

“Okay, sure, but what about being my bodyguard? Is that too weird?” you continued.

“God no,” he scoffed, “if anything I’m gonna be better at my job than ever. As your boyfriend, keeping you safe is my job, but since keeping you safe was already my job… it’s, like, doubled-up now.”

He lost his train of thought when you opened the door.

“How do I look?” you asked as you stepped in and gave him a spin in your new dress. Your whole body was draped in red silk, with the exception of your back which was almost entirely exposed, as if it were begging him to run his fingers down your spine.

“Like everything I ever wanted,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

And it was so odd that you questioned his desire to drive you, because those moments where he could steer with one hand and rest the other on your thigh, when he could catch a glimpse of you looking out the window at the city rolling by, when he got to listen to you ramble about something to kill the time during a drive; those were his favorite moments, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.

After a relatively brief trip, you arrived at the venue, and all of a sudden he was doing what he’d fantasized about more than he’d like to admit: escorting you down a red carpet. It was almost overwhelming— yelling, chattering, reporters speaking into camera, flashes going off in every direction—

“Hey,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to his cheek and instantly taking all his attention.

“Hey,” he returned.

“Just follow my lead,” you instructed.

“That was the plan.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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dizzydennis · 3 years

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Sonic x Rouge Cover Story (Part 2)

Translator note: Thank you for checking out Part 2 of Rouge’s cover story. I have no idea why it was separated like this, but it’s fine in the end. I am not fluent in Japanese and I am still learning how to be a better translator. Please note that there will likely be mistakes in my work here, but I hope you enjoy the story. Also, I am busy with work and didn’t have the luxury of working on my laptop for this one. While riding a Shinkansen, I typed this out on my phone. If there are any mistakes, please forgive me.

Within the center of Eggman Land, there is a deep vertical hole deep in the ground that goes over 100 meters down.

This was the site of the “Gaia Temple.”

The temple, which once stood for the "healing" of this planet, was tucked into the underground of Eggman Land, but emerged during a big battle and is now sleeping deep in the depths of the planet.

At the bottom of this hole was a figure that landed silently. After looking around carefully, this person said in an overly satisfied tone:

"Huh. It seems that all those robots that gathered together to get Sonic. All for little ol’ me! ♪"

This person was Rouge the Bat. When she looked at the radar she was carrying she could see Sonic was a ways off; just as planned.

"Everybody should get a friendly little hedgehog friend!~"

It seemed certain that she pushed the enemy towards Sonic and to drive them as far away as possible. Then, on the contrary, Sonic was heading for this very spot.

Soon after reaching the deepest part of the tall rock spires of the temple, Rouge found a stone that was dimly shining through the darkness, picked it up, and gracefully pressed it against her cheek.

“I finally found you! And you’re just such a cutie!”

"... Who are you talking to and what are you saying?"

When asked from behind, Rouge looked blankly forward with the stone still on her cheek.

"Oh ...? Did you abandon your work? That’s pretty naughty, Sonic."

Rouge's expression, as she slowly looked back and asked, returned to her usual graceful smile.

“Well, I know you’re the worst kind of lady and I couldn't help it," Sonic answered with an obnoxious grin.

Knowing the location of the Chaos Emerald with the energy detector, Sonic noticed Rouge's plan to use him to allow her a chance to take the gem and so… he quickly showed up here.

The communicator that was informing her of his position would still be spinning on rotation.

"So, what are ya going to do with that Chaos Emerald?"

Rouge smiled and returned without any fear.

"Well, I was thinking that I’d bring it home … What do you say to that?"

Rouge continued, shifting her gaze from the ring on Sonic’s left hand to the Chaos Emerald.

“You’ll soon realize the value of a better gem when one comes around.”

With that said, she slammed a smoke bomb, that she took out from in-between her breasts, on the ground.

<< BANG! >> >>

The area was covered with white smoke.

"Hey! What about our deal earlier!?"

When Sonic shook off the smoke, Rouge had already grabbed on to a large escape balloon and was rising into the sky.

"... Well that takes care of that! My investigation has already ended ♪ You were very useful for the time being, so I will share my intel as promised. Eggman Land’s power restarted because of that seven-colored shooting star ... and the Chaos Emerald accidentally fell here. "

The setup was a little crazy, but Rouge got the Chaos Emerald anyway. She began talking to earn time to escape.

“Well look at that, the Gaia Temple that was previously here was also a power spot for the Chaos Emeralds, right? Perhaps because of that, it seems the underground temple responded to all that Chaos Energy and began to spread energy around the area.”

Sonic didn’t seem to move at all.

"Well, I gave it some thought... If I were to come down here then I might happen upon a Chaos Emerald myself.”

So that was it. Sonic began to speak back.

"OK, but the Chaos Emeralds don’t really belong to anyone. They’ve just been used by some of us when the world was really in a pinch.”

It didn’t matter to Rouge as she let out a soft, “But…"

"But what?"

“But… isn’t it just great to be able to dig in and steal it?”

The next moment Sonic grinned as he dashed towards Rouge.

"!?"

Sonic used the slopes of the rock pillars to spin dash into the sky. As he crossed by Rouge, he grabbed the Chaos Emerald right from her hand.”

"Oh! You thief!"

With a wink, Sonic fell to the bottom of the vertical hole with a huge smile across his face. Rouge was at a loss for words and swooped down to catch up to him!

<< RUMBLE ...! >> >>

Suddenly, all the lights in Eggman Land shut off and the planet shook violently.

A plethora of dazzling streaks of light rose from the very bottom of the vertical hole. The lights shot out in countless directions, and the entire place was engulfed with light once Sonic landed.

The five Chaos Emeralds that Sonic had in his possession started to shine brightly as if they were responding to the lights below.

"What is this......!?"

A glow returned to the darkened and drained Chaos Emeralds.

Maybe it's because five Chaos Emeralds were gathered in the same place where the Gaia Temple used to be. Perhaps it was because Sonic has a deep connection with the temple. Either way, some slumbering power had “found” the Chaos Emerald.

Rouge, who was watching this from the sky, was completely awestruck at such a beautiful scene.

Moreover, the darkness that has spread across the entire temple was washed out as huge particles of light seemed to cut out through the engravings along the side of the large hole. They became even more gorgeous as they shined in seven bright colors.

It looked like a fancy jewel placed on top of high quality black velvet fabric.

"...!"

Rouge glanced at its beauty with longing eyes as she let out a sigh.

For the realist that Rouge was: gems that are unobtainable are truly worthless. However, the hint of "better jewels" still being out there made Rouge happy.

... She could hear Sonic calling from far below her feet.

"Hey! Are you going to come back for it?”

Sonic was shouting with the Chaos Emerald in his hand. It was if he wasn’t going to put up a fight at all.

Of course, she wasn’t going to give up on this real jewel. Right now, no matter what went down in Eggman Land, people’s hearts don’t change. Rouge squinted her eyes and made a confident smile. She pretended to give up and assessed her chances for a surprise attack.

“Well… I lost. I don’t need a sneaky hedgehog’s emerald anyway! Besides—”

<< Crack ...! >> >>

As Rouge flew, the circumference of the hole began cracking apart as the planet shook again.

<< RUMBLE ...! >> >>

"What!? What’s happening this time!?”

A vertical hole that was originally struck in an unnatural shape ... I couldn't stand the torrent of light. The vertical hole couldn’t withstand the barrage of light. The buildings and attractions of Eggman Land fell as if they were caught in an avalanche. The whole thin collapsed.

...... Now’s the time to strike!

If Rouge could get off a surprise move now, she could possibly get all five of Sonic’s emeralds! However, Sonic was able to avoid a giant Eggman statue that had collapsed and fallen in. Sonic slipped back and fell into the smoke.

Sonic would be fine in a situation like this. Rouge, however, concentrated all of her cunning towards an overhead surprise attack once the smoke settled.

But then ...

"I'm sorry to have kept a lady waiting, but I can’t give much more of an apology, right? By the way, what were you trying to tell me earlier?"

Rouge was hearing Sonic's cocky voice from the communicator.

Rouge dropped her head in sadness. Sonic had already escaped. Also, his communicator must was very far away from where he was ... Rouge realized that it was impossible to catch up with him.

Really, this guy does every single thing he wants to, doesn’t he?

"It's so annoying. I now have nothing!"

Saying that, Rouge got rid of her communicator and let her escape balloon go too. She then angrily flew into the sky.

Sonic, on the other hand, almost instantly returned to his usual demeanor with a cheeky expression. Before running off, he left a last message on his communicator despite the fact that nobody would hear it.

"Well, Rouge. Did you enjoy yourself today?"

The night was soon erased by a wave of light. Morning had come to Eggman Land, the place for hopes and desire.

The amusement park, which welcomed two guests during its bustling night of resurrection had collapsed and fallen completely silent. Now, it seemed nothing more than a set of ruins. Casting a dark shadow onto the new morning.

With that in mind, Rouge, who ended up going home empty-handed, was flying in the sky with horrid thoughts in her mind. However, she suddenly went silent when she thought about the jewel of light she saw.

Even so, it was overwhelming. That unrealistic beauty it had... What if Rouge could just know how valuable it was?

"... Well, you’ll just have to find it for yourself then!"

"Motivation" is the "ideal jewel". Maybe there was some value in this, depending on how you think about it.

Let's leave things as they are. Rouge was in a good mood as these thoughts raced through her mind. She then flew off into the sunrise.

“I'll definitely get all the jewels I want anyway! All jewels in the world are my mine to keep! ♪”

#sonic the hedgehog #rouge the bat #sonic unleashed #sonic adventure 2 #dr eggman #sega

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bardicbeetle · 2 years

Note

Hey what are your characters genders/sexualities? I've watched your pronoun usage for Alex evolve over time but I wondered if anyone else has had similar shifts and changes?

Oooh.

Hmmm.

I genuinely haven't given a whole lot of thought to this outside of, well, what comes up naturally. So lets go character by character, front to back, alright? Buckle up nonnie because this one is going to be long. And I'm only doing the four Vamp!House people, because if I go too far beyond that I will literally never let you go.

And for future reference, this information is relevant as of November 29th, 2021. It may change in the future due to me learning more things about my characters as time goes on.

Alex is maybe the most different from where we started (maybe, don't take me at my word here because I'm just getting into this answer and it's 8:16 on a work night and I have been up since 5AM.) given that in the original rendition they were a fifteen year old straight cis girl.

Around 2019 or so, the idea of Alex being asexual became a brainworm that wouldn't leave me be. It led to me adjusting some of their trauma because while I wanted to provide a character who represented a very important part of the queer community to me (hi, a demisexual/aspec person) I didn't want to fall into that stereotype of all asexual people are ace because they were assaulted or abused. So I adjusted and moved on and Alex is still very much ace, sex neutral/disinterested but not sex repulsed, and very much still romantically interested (we will get into demiromanticism briefly later with Daniel) in, well, Isaac, and not really anyone else, but life hasn't exactly given them a lot of chances. But for now we are just going to stick to the Alex is Asexual and likes Isaac because that is what they've given me to run with.

Gender wise, Alex is nonbinary. Probably leaning into the agender side of things. And uses they/them/theirs pronouns. I realized while re-writing the scene with Eric in the club that nobody would get to know Alex's assigned sex at birth, because I wasn't going to say, and nobody gets to have their deadname either, not even me. I denote Eric mis-naming them with an em-dash in the scene and it's the only place it comes up, as even the scene where Alex's parents die doesn't mention it.

When it came to making Alex nonbinary I wanted it to be easy, I wanted it to just be. Nobody questions it, nobody uses the wrong pronouns, nobody outside Eric (and Alex's parent's in their past) uses the wrong name. I just wanted this one thing to be free of the reality a lot of us live.

Expression wise, Alex is mostly androgynous, but it depends on their mood/the day/etc. They keep their hair very long (like i-haven’t-cut-this-in-5-or-more-years long), but usually up. Baggier clothes are more comfortable because it makes them feel safe and warm. Not a big fan of dresses but long wool or corduroy skirts can get a pass because the warmth and look is nice. Makeup is a no, but it's a I-don't-like-having-stuff-on-my-skin sensory dislike kind of thing.

~*~

Moving on to Daniel, because, well, I already brought him up.

Original script Daniel is just David from the Lost Boys but Italicized there is literally nothing more to it. Now, 14 year old me may have not picked up on the queer undertones because 14 year old me was still in the closet under the blanket of denial, but 24 year old me knows better than to look at that movie and not see a 6-direction polycule.

Daniel is pansexual, and I am a firm believer that in most cases, as an immortal, you eventually just stop giving a shit. Not to say this is the case for all pansexual people (or all immortals), but for Daniel it sure is. He was engaged to Emily Dawes back when he was alive, he killed her brother, things went downhill from there. He was briefly involved with Carter. Romance is another matter. There needs to be an understanding there, a friendship there, a relationship in its own right, before there is love. At least as far as he's concerned. He definitely started developing feelings for Madeleine after staying with her, Eden, and Gus for so long- though these aren't reciprocated and that's fine. I think it's probably easier seen and a little exacerbated by Jesse's enthusiasm (by that I mean, Jesse being head over heels makes Daniel's slower warming seem a little more visible) and that's fine, they're a good pair to showcase it.

As far as gender goes, Daniel aligns with being a man, uses he/him/his, but probably wouldn't bat an eye if you used they/them.

Expression wise, his hair is long enough to pull up (think probably just beyond shoulder length), and he's one of those people who you assume has either only six items of clothing, or just many multiples of two or three things (it is the latter, and those things are solid color t shirts, a handful of sweaters, and dark pants). Makeup is for occasions that warrant it.

~*~

Moira is a lesbian, Moira has not always been a lesbian. Moira has not even always been a member of the Vamp!House. Moira was once called Liana, and was also once Isaac's aunt. We have time for approximately none of that mess. Suffice to say her existence as it is now isn’t something I would ever want to backtrack on, and I have a hard time viewing older iterations of my story and not seeing her there.

I think Moira announced (I keep saying this as if I was not always aware, and it’s true, a lot of the times when stuff like this changes, it’s the characters just taking a route and me running with it) she was a lesbian somewhere around the same time she became a proper character in the first place, so, 2017 or so. Fairly early as far as my characters clueing me in that they are queer goes. I think the only precursor there was Jesse, and even that, by a thin margin. She ended up a little molded after one of my coworkers around that time, but I think most of that has shaken off. Her preferences lie in tall ladies who look like they could throw her, which, to be honest are also my preferences in ladies-- I work with what I'm given.

Her being a trans woman is treated a lot like Alex being nonbinary. It's just a fact, acknowledged and understood and not challenged. Again, nobody gets to know what her name was before, it's unnecessary, it doesn't ever need to come up. She's a woman, she/her/hers. That's the end of it.

Expression wise, Moira is very much a midi skirt + cute sweater + suspenders variety of like, not cottagecore but rather all these clothes look very nice but also they are covered in paint, be that splattered or dripped or just, artwork she's painted onto the clothes. Everything is that way aside from a handful of things for when she really wants to dress up or needs to be formal for some reason. She's also one of those crazy people who wears as little as possible in the wintertime, because the heavy cloud cover the northeast gets lets her be up and around during the day, so she likes to pretend she gets a little bit of sunlight on her skin. Her hair is usually around bob length, and it's very fluffy. Makeup is another art form for her, but it's not an everyday affair.

~*~

Jesse has been gay the whole time. I don't think I knew it knew it at the very beginning, but, it's definitely there if I go back and re-read drafts from the before times.

The thing about Jesse is that he's one of the only times I properly go into the issues of homophobia and bigotry as far as writing this story goes. Writing his backstory was a huge outlet for my own familial trauma surrounding being queer. It was me getting to spit in the face of my own father without having to be brave enough to do it. It was getting to explore the hurt and allowing myself to process it without having to think specifically about my own pain. Jesse's background is about taking your own life back for yourself, something I desperately needed help with when writing it.

Jesse wears his heart on his sleeve and loves with his whole fucking chest. Be that romantic, platonic, whatever. It is all or nothing, and very very rarely is it ever nothing. Which is part of why the eventual relationship with Daniel is such a slide to watch. And I think why it evolved the way it did from one sided and in the past in older drafts, to where it sits today as them having been proper together for upwards of two decades by the time Alex shows up and becomes part of their family.

Gender wise he is definitely a man, he/him/his.

Expression wise, he and Alex share a lot of clothing, mainly because he gave them a chunk of it when they moved in. He likes comfort and clothes a few sizes too big. His hair is naturally honey blond, but he has not seen that color in decades, as he keeps it dyed varying shades of green.

#long post for ts #Long post #grey glass and hidden faces #questions concerns and or rotten tomatoes #the magician cries #screaming about sitd #sitd #character ref ab #character ref da #character ref mh #character ref ja #lsdente

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wolf-stark · 3 years

Note

You ask I deliver — both tfatws asks in one!

tfatws weekly ask 1

i finally saw ep1!! i wont be able to see ep2 until thursday at the earliest but i already have some Thots on this ep. here are the ones I remember

first is, and i'm so sorry for this, a grammar lesson. an appositive is when you stick an additional phrase in between commas, dashes, or the like. i actually just used one! the "and i'm so sorry for this" in the first sentence of this paragraph is an appositive. thing is, most english speakers don't normally use them when they speak, only in writing. so i'm always on high alert whenever i hear somebody in tv or movies use one. (it's generally a marker of bad screenwriting). anyway there was one right in the beginning of the episode. the white army guy yelling at sam wilson said "first lieutenant Torres, our intel officer, will be helping on the ground." yeah so. the writing of this series started out on the wrong foot for me. but the rest of the episode was obviously tons and tons better (every interview i see with malcolm spellman makes me love him more and more)

the contrast between the opening minutes (falcon action sequence) and the rest of the ep.... i would 100000/10 rather watch a series with just sam and bucky dealing with life. i dont give a single crap about the flag-smashers or any of that. i just want sam, sarah & fam getting their boating business back on the ground & yeeting racist dickwads, bucky going through therapy and making amends, sam and joaquin being bros, sambucky homoerotic tension, etc.

the cinnamontography! wandavision mostly used cinematography to signify era n stuff. tfatws doesn't have wv's premise to go off of, so here's some tricks i noticed:

with sam there's obviously all sorts of shots with the captain america iconography next to his face, but he hasn't totally claimed it. there's the mural of steve rogers in the background; there's sam staring into the shield like it's a spectre of steve's face; there's sam looking into the exhibit, the shield and sam separated by glass and a layer of camera focus. steve is a constant spectre, always there, an idea, a symbol himself. sam's relationship with this iconography is distanced. he is separated by glass exhibit walls. by painting canvases. he doesn't yet feel worthy to take on that iconography. this whole thing was pulled off quite well but also a bit on-the-nose if only in quantity. there's just sooooo much fancy iconography stuff

speaking of the exhibit, there's something that i get real pissy about. it's when like, there's an action going on you're supposed to be paying attention to but the cinematographer is like,,,, hey! check out this location! or this headline! or something! there was a lot of that in the exhibit. the camera was like, you could focus on sam and rhodey's convo (which was fine but could have been so much better with an extra like 10 minutes of deep character study talk) but noooo you want me to look at the symbol for the united nations and read all the text about bucky who hasn't even showed up yet. shut up i know the lore and ill watch the shot-by-shot breakdown yt vids you don't have to make the shot this long jkdsalcjklasejf

my fav trick was with bucky and the therapist. i had seen a clip of the scene with bucky and the therapist beforehand and i thought the cinnamontography was super obnoxious, but then i was like, oh duh. the shots frequently change the distance between the camera and its subject. sometimes it's uncomfortably close and sometimes it's really far. a clear allegory for the duality of therapy, esp for bucky! therapy is an invasive process wherein he is ruthlessly examined, picked apart, and berated for his trauma (this therapist is crap in every way btw, "mean therapist" works for greg house and greg house only). so the camera goes close. it makes the viewer claustrophobic like bucky. but when he's like "no i haven't had any nightmares" the camera suddenly goes really far. we see bucky as this tiny head in the center of the bottom of the frame. we are distanced from him. he has pushed us away. we cannot see him. he lies because he is vulnerable. so yeah, amazing work there. the therapy scene was hard to watch on purpose!

did bucky slip a note to yori inside the dollar bill? bucky stop making me emooooo. the suuper awkward fake smile has me 😭 (veteran trying to adjust!)

mark my worrrrds when sam asks someone y the govt picked john “white bread” walker they’re gonna say “we needed somebody everyone can get behind....someone uncontroversial, someone everyone can see themselves in” like that exact racist dog whistle

tfatws weekly ask 2

just saw ep2 so im taking advantage of the 2 seconds i can be on tumblr without worrying about tfatws spoilers before new episode drops

when isaiah said "your people put me in prison for being a hero" and bucky thought "your people" means hydra. 🤦‍♂️

speaking of racism, the interplay between sam being Black (anti-Black racism) and sam being the Falcon (negrophilia, "can i take a selfie w you as i deny you a loan?") and the intersection between the two (j*hn lichrally called sam "steve's wingman"! he takes the crypto out of crypto-racist in like 2 seconds!) !!!!!!!! a Black celebrity's Black experience, the separation of man and identity!!!! (thinking about vanessa bayer in snl in that skit "beyonce is black" telling her black friend "you're not black, you're...my girl!")

after sam gets racially profiled by cops we see j*hn standing in front of cop cars cinematic parallels turns out j*hn is racist who knew

this therapist sucks major ass but she got bucky and sam together in the same room and ready to collaborate...that's something ig. it was lichrally couple's therapy she said she used her miracle exercise with couples sambucky antis get blended

bucky says "he was wrong about you so maybe he was wrong about me"...that's not how people talk. when therapist asks bucky, the guy who doesn't talk at all about himself, "y do you hate sam", the last thing bucky's gonna do is actually connect his hatred of sam to his own self-worth issues. bucky generally refuses to talk about himself, so why would he talk about himself in the one context that nobody ever links back to their own neuroses: hatred of other people? one thing human beings hate most is admitting we're wrong. admitting you hate someone because of your own issues? that's a major therapeutic step. bucky would absolutely have to be prompted to do that. even like one or two lines of dialogue more would have set up that line better. but in terms of the actual thought? an amazing way to take the sam/bucky relationship. bucky bases his self-worth on steve believing in him, and if steve is wrong bucky has no self-worth, so 1) he has to develop self-worth disassociated from steve's assessment of him and 2) he has to love himself before he can love sam, and 3) he has to realize that sam giving up the shield is a sign of sam's humility not his unworthiness.

conversely, we don't get into why sam hates bucky? yeah sam has the right to hate a guy that has tried to kill him (albeit while brainwashed) multiple times, and now shows up in his life just to bash him but. everything happens so fast i cant follow their relationship

in fact i dont feel like i understood much of anything. like y did bucky and sam go on that mission together? how connected are sam/bucky/joaquin with the government? doesn't bucky just want to retire now? literally what is everyone doing/feeling and why???

if battlestar becomes a knowing commentary on the black best friend stereotype i'm gonna party, but i dont expect much of that

the interplay between man and symbol. captain america is obviously a symbol. the shield is obviously a symbol. but steve rogers? the. man behind the cowl? he too seems to become a symbol. a paragon of a good guy, so good he's unreachable. steve was just a guy stop idolizing him the last thing steve would want is to be idolized

as the resident musician/music nerd on mcublr, 1) that captain america rally music slaps, but 2) re: the song at the end of the ep, if you're just gonna rip off mozart's lacrymosa then at least play mozart's lacrymosa. we wont blame you the lacrymosa slaps (if you dont know what im talking about go on yt and search it up youll recognize it fo sho

look i love enfys nest as much as the next guy but if tfatws is gonna get erin kellyman to play another innocent little gurl blackmailed into the fakeout-villain position (her text seemed to suggest as such) then 😡 like why can't women just....be evil? young, freckly, innocent-looking women? girls are not untouchable pure objects but full of rage and resentment just as much as anyone can be

bonus ep1 comment: bucky says about that senator whose car he hijacked, "she continued to abuse the power i gave her." fictionaldarling on yt say that he says "i" because he can't disassociate himself from his winter soldier persona which begets endless and senseless guilt. like dude. can i not be emo for like 1 second.

OKay. First off, as much I enjoy your sending it to me, what made you decide to send me these??

TFATWS WA #1

Don't worry about getting this to me as early as possible. I usually don't watch the episode right away.

1. Cool writing lesson.

2. Everyone wants a comedy show [like Friends] about the MCU superheroes.

3. Cinematography is always a beautiful thing.

4. Sam definitely has to carve his own Captain America status for himself, outside of Steve's ya know everything.

5. They have to do that for people who was just now tuning in because they're in love with Sam Wilson or Sharon Carter.

6. I think the therapist was taking a 'tough love' approach for Bucky, because she likely has some very strong opinions about the literal assassin she's been assigned to give therapy too. She did not choose to talk to him, she was assigned that make that clear in the second episode.

And, Bucky isn't lying when he said it wasn't a nightmare. It wasn't a nightmare, it was a resurfaced memory. So, technically he wasn't lying - and yes, the camera does move away because while he's saying he didn't have a nightmare, he's not expanding on what actually happened - so, he's still pushing the therapist/us away.

7. Bucky, and Steve, have/had a TON to adjust to.

8. Yeah, I agree that will be the bullshit line they give. If they ever actually talk about it.

TFATW WA #2

Yeah, always got to take advantage of avoiding those spoilers lmfaoo.

1. Honestly, that line was double meaning. Both about White people and Hydra [which is made up of mostly white supremacists/nazis] So, the line is gesturing to both White People in general and Hydra assholes together. I think the terminology is “double edge sword”??

2. This whole paragraph structure confused me, ngl - so I'm going to answer it the best I can. I do like that they're not ignoring the fact that Sam being Black is 1000% the reason he's not the Official Captain America - because the gov't is racist as hell.

I also like the little lines about how they point out little things about Sam's Falcon persona, like that kid calling him 'Black Falcon' specifically and Sam's response show the split between Sam and Falcon itself.

John is a dick for calling Sam the wingman of Steve Rogers. Sam was a hero all on his own before Steve asked him to join up again. [Side note, it's lichrally??]

3. Exactly, the parallel of Sam being profiled and surrounded while just on the street and John being surrounded by fans and being able to spring Bucky with apparently only a few sentences shows a Loooooot

4. Honestly, at this point I wonder if she's not actually a therapist and is just an agent assigned to assess Bucky outside of an Official Building. I do know, however, that her 'look at each other and speak' exercise is actually a real therapy practice. It's just a little slower.

5. Actually, I think he would've blurted that out. That whole line. I don't think Bucky hates Sam. I think they could've done the scene better, but I think that had Sam prodded him/the therapist been more annoying Bucky would've lost control of his emotions and blurted out the whole "If he was wrong about you, he was wrong about me" but I feel like the writing for this show is just... not there. Sometimes you blurt shit when you get overemotional and I think that was what Bucky was supposed to be like.

6. I don't think Sam hates Bucky, I think he doesn't trust him though. I do wish they'd talked about that though. The whole 'talk to each other' scene should've been a LOT longer and a LOT slower.

7. Sam and Bucky's relationship is being fast tracked because they don't really know how to work the relationship out, writers-room-wise. Bucky is technically retired, but I feel like he's trying to live up to Steve's expectations and doing what Steve would've done and we all know that if Steve was there, Steve would've jumped on that plane with Sam. It looks like Sam/Bucky/Joaquin are a side-team based from Military services but as Sam says they're all free agents so...?

8. Sadly, They seem to just be propping up to be another stereotype.

9. Captain America is a symbol. Steve Rogers is a man. But now Steve Rogers is an idol because of all the shit he's been through and honestly, it's not a bad thing he's become an idol for people - it's using Steve as a reason to make White Bread Walker the next Captain that makes Steve's idolization so fucked.

10. I don't know anything about music so I have no opinion here, sorry.

11. Enfys?? Also, I think they did the whole Innocent Girl Thing as side commentary for Bucky lowering his guard about seeing a young girl rather than a guy.

12. Bucky is the Winter Solider. The Winter Solider is Bucky. That is how Bucky will always see it because although he was brainwashed, it was still him and he remembers all of it. When you have constant memories of something 'someone else' did, you tend to not be able to pull the two personas out of each other. I want Bucky to take up the title, White Wolf instead of Winter Soldier. Honest.

This is all my opinion, I’m honestly a little disappointed with the writing of TFATWS so far so... I’m not really optimistic about this.

#Asks

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rixxy8173571m3w1p3 · 4 years

Text

The Truths Found On Petram Viridios IV (5/5)

A/N: The last chapter to this fic. It's a long one and I gotta say that I've had a lot of fun with this one. After I post this chapter, I'll be sure to post the masterpost for this fic. And of course it'll be available on ao3 soon enough.

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

__________

Chapter 5: Adore You

If you had to draw a map to find the way home once you were captivated by the gaze of those trustworthy, soft eyes of his, you would surely run out of ink; pools of blue, unwavering in their affection, drew you in, and you were willing to drown in them. There were facets about them that fascinated you as much as the scales of a butterfly did; they did not shimmer, but they gleamed and sparkled; it's what made you pause and search for a wisp of an acquaintance that very first time you saw him; finding a familiarity that threatened to sweep you away. Why you even found fire in those eyes; it was there in his moments of determination and passion. Oh, how their color shifted with his moods was a type of magic you wanted to spend the rest of your life being mesmerized by. To be sure he wasn't mistaken, he dare not blink; exhibiting the full spectrum of what Billie Eilish described as ocean eyes; he had to be sure. "Y-you do?"

"Yes," you giggled. "I do."

It wouldn't occur to you till later, that he had given you a choice. For instead of the typical proposal question, where it was more asserted, Rick asked in a manner in which there was equal footing; it spoke volumes of the respect he had for you. With shaky hands, he slipped a ring whose stone was as clear and blue as his eyes and cut perfectly like a rose, the band covered in gold vines and silver leaves which weaved together; he made it himself, and if you thought back far enough, you could remember when he was ambiguous about his plans to create a new type of stone. Honestly, you didn't realize it would be for this.

"Gosh," he sniffled. "I-I promised myself that I w-wouldn't cry."

But cry he would; fat, sloppy tears that blinded one's vision. He wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater, and fought to regain composure, but lost to the new wave which followed. You gently pried his hands away from his face, softening at his tear-stained cheeks. "It's okay, you can cry if you want to. I already know how tender you are."

Goodness, how long had he wanted to do this? For while it had almost been two years in which he had last attempted to, it might've been on his mind for much longer than that; eating away at his clarity; at the self-confidence that was torn down and repaired daily. You were grateful and proud that this man wanted you; that he finally gathered the courage to ask and do as he intended and wanted. You….you had wanted this to happen, but did he know that? Your ocean of inquisitions thought otherwise.

However, it was time to quiet and quell his despondent thoughts. Your fingers dug into the collar of his sweater; the tang of nervous sweat and something so him which wafted off him made you yearn to bring him closer. The puffiness about his eyes didn't discourage you from pressing a kiss at the corner of them and from his throat came a choked sob and you were surrounded by the sounds of his disbelief; this cacophony was breaking your heart. There had to be something you could do to ease him. "Ricardo," you started, "considering the suddenness of the occasion, should we, in like fashion…my dear honey man, would you like to get married today?"

This new tidbit caught him off guard; so much so that he stopped crying; good. Now, he was the one who was unsure of whether this was real life or a simulation. He ran his fingers through his hair, double-checked his equipment, sprayed himself with water, and completed equations that had taken this earth dimension's leading mathematicians decades to understand. What you thought was odd was when he caught a pigeon, scanned its anatomy, and found it was sound; you were going to have to ask him about it later. "Rick, did you hear me?"

"Y-yes," he focused, "but what d-do you mean today? How?"

You figured he would have easily come to a conclusion, but then again, what do spacemen have to do with the price of bread?

"I mean that we don't have to wait if you don't want to." You slid your palm over his tattoo, memorizing with your fingertips where his skin was slightly raised. "We can just go down to the justice of the peace if you'd like."

"And y-you would be my wife today?"

"Yes," you giggled. "I think that's how it works."

"But what about a-a…"

"A wedding ceremony?" you interrupted. "Well, we can have one later. We can plan it however you want, and invite all our friends. There can be so much celebration that we'll be knocked out for a week. Until then, I just want to make you happy, and I believe the sooner the better. Okay? So, if we're going to do this, just tell me now and I'll go get the proper paperwork."

It never ceased to amaze you how easily he flitted through emotions as though it were the weather, and with vigor, he lifted you up and vibrated with joy. "Boy, golly gee…this really - this really razzes my b-berries! This is…wow, I-I can't believe it."

You couldn't believe his word choice either. "Oh, you better believe it, because now you're stuck with me and I have you all to myself. However, you're going to have to put me down now because the office closes at five. There are a few things I need to do before then."

Letting you down, he happily waved goodbye despite the fact that it wouldn't take long to get what you needed for this impromptu occasion. Though, when you entered your house, you took a moment to think about your father. There were things you still didn't understand, like why he never told you about his friendship with Rick, or why you two never really discussed what he'd do if you got married; if he had been here, maybe you two would have talked about which flowers would look best as centerpieces; like whether roses or mums were cheerful enough or if this really was a good idea; if such an age gap was surmountable. Yet, in a way you felt as though you were honoring him; for your father and your mother had been unconventional and had gotten married without all the showy displays then road tripped a bit before settling here; you were simply following tradition.

Maybe, you didn't have to know about the why's and what-ifs, but focusing on what you could do seemed a whole lot easier to do. You kicked off your sneakers and dashed upstairs. You knew where your important documents were, but you thought that choosing a cute outfit would take a little longer. You wanted a certain vibe, one that would make things easier on him and then it came to you; why not revisit an old favorite; one that reminded you of his eyes; always, forever blue.

When you returned, you found him pacing around. He was deep in thought, and it took a moment for him to notice that you had returned. Almost comically, his eyes widened as he took in your appearance, and he started to cry again. "That's th-the dress. From that one time."

"It sure is."

With a twirl, you flaunted the blue chiffon dress, and felt like a dream; his visible adoration was not lost on you. It was a relief that this time you hadn't taken an hour to fuss or worry that you weren't dressed for the part, and you weren't wearing shoes which would kill your feet, but instead rocked some converse. "These shoes are made for walking and that's just what I'll do."

Unlike you, Zeta-7 wanted to fuss and choose something dressier, but you somehow managed to convince him that his blue button-up would be fine, and no tie was necessary; hidden ray guns were allowed just in case this happened to be the day that the Gromflomites attacked; not even Earth-based military scanners would be able to detect them. Though, you did allow him to fix up his hair, because one, you thought he was quite handsome with it combed back, and two, it's what he felt he needed to do to look the part. "How do I-I look?"

"Like the man I'm going to marry. Are you ready handsome?"

With a nod, he grabbed the folder with all the documents he needed. "Y-you bet."

______________

At the courthouse, the entire security staff grouped together and teased you about your keys; you should've known that you'd face trouble once you went through the metal detector; you had a lot of keychains; they were from the days when you and your father would go shopping together. Like Rick, he liked yard sales and thrift stores; sometimes he'd get grab bags and there would be vintage keychains, and he'd give them to you knowing you'd like them. You were told by one of the older guards that it wasn't natural for a grown woman to have a set of keys that weighed five pounds. Zeta-7 began to worry, but you told him you could handle it, and you figured the guards were bored and had nothing else to do. What you didn't tell them was that the main reason your keys were heavy was that you were carrying two sets; yours and your father's old keys; Rick knew, but he respected your wishes to leave it be.

Despite this, you two made your way to the right office; it only took fifteen minutes of going to lobby after lobby, free coffee, and endless rugs in all this indoor nothingness. And nobody knew better than Rick when it came to how much you hated paperwork, but nonetheless, you went through the painstaking process of signing this and that, wondering why they didn't make it easier for people by asking yes or no questions; this better not become someone's confetti. Rick breezed through it all, and you were slightly jealous that he knew what he was doing, but it was due to the fact that citadel paperwork was a lot more frustrating and difficult; he had to go through stacks of it weekly; poor man. While he sat quietly, you were in-between forms that had to be signed in triplicate and heard the gossip coming from the people who were working in the back of the office. What they didn't know was that their ignorance made you more determined; you'd fought your own expectations, that of others, as well as what seemed right to do long enough and no one, not even death itself was going to stop you from doing this; it was the best thing you could ever do for yourself and for him as well. You breathed a sigh of relief when you and Rick finally signed the marriage certificate; finally, it was done, and he watched rapturously as you set down the pen so that he could kiss you without refrain.

If you hadn't known better, you'd say the world shied away; dissolving into a plane of nothingness as he enveloped you with a strength that was deceptive for a man of his years; he had become a little more confident; it might've taken a few years, but all you knew was that it suited him. Being nurtured and cared for, as well as loved in the right sort of environment did wonders on Zeta-7; so much so, that he could hold the world in the palm of his hand and still manage not to damage it. It wasn't shocking that some found this outward display sweet, and you almost had hope for humankind, but then there was a laugh or two from the back; you made a mental note to consider moving off Earth. No one was going to ruin this moment for him, and relishing the moment, you chased his mouth for a second kiss; you know, to prove your point.

And if you hadn't already been proud of him, what made you even prouder was what he said on the way out. "Please stop laughing at m-my wife. Th-that's very rude."

His wife? Yes, you were his wife now. It's strange how you could wake up and wonder what you should have for breakfast and be here where you were now; in a whole new chapter of your life; wondering what will come next. Confusing yes, but not something to be afraid of; you welcomed this happy transition.

Back at the car, you were still recovering from his earlier outburst; the like which was almost out of character. "Did you see the look on her face? I thought it was going to fall off with how far her jaw dropped. Wasn't it a sight?"

Though, he was busy staring at the ring on his own hand which you had picked out when you two made a stop at a consignment shop earlier. It wasn't that complex like yours, but he loved it. "All I could see was - was you."

"You flirt."

You gave his shoulder a playful shove, and in turn, he laughed a full-on belly laugh; this happy noise was music to your ears. "Gosh, I-I mean it. Y-you, look so pretty today." A bit shyly, he commented. "Blue looks very good on you."

"Thank you. So, how should we celebrate? A trip to the moon perhaps? Going across the universe? Maybe a kaiju fight with Matango? Or watching Spiderman 2? Honestly, I'm game for anything."

You had decent shoes on and didn't care what he wanted to do because you were happy if he was happy. And as though it were just another afternoon, he glowed with happiness when he asked. "Mrs. Sanchez, do you - do you want to go get some ice cream?"

Some things will never change and you didn't mind that. "I'd love to. As the author, L.M. Montgomery once said, 'I guess ice cream is one of those things that are beyond imagination.' And, you know, it's so true. I intend to go all out with the toppings today. It's certainly that kind of occasion."

______

He couldn't seem to want to let go of your hand; as though the world would fall away if he didn't and that this would turn out to be a cruel dream. Still, you humored and spoiled him. As intended, you got all the toppings; Rick thought it was a kids dream come true with the amount of candy you had in your waffle bowl. And since you had enough to share, you took the liberty to feed him. He chatted on; offering charming stories from his band days; unlike other Ricks who were in a rock band called Flesh Curtains, his band had been a jazz and bossa nova trio; the band name had been comprised of a numerical equation; if you had named them you would've called them the Zeta Bytes.

Now, Rick wasn't a messy eater, but during one of his more excitable stories, he spilled a bit on the corner of his mouth. Ready with a napkin, you wiped it away, and couldn't help but laugh at how boyish it was. Giving your hand a squeeze, he absentmindedly brushed his thumb on the back of your hand; adoration coloring his voice. “You're t-t-too good to me.”

"There's no such thing. If anything, I gotta spoil you rotten."

You found no hindrance in his mood and this time he didn't think twice about kissing you then and there as he liked while you were still holding the napkin; fear and shame of public displays of affection being one less thing to worry about now. Who cared if your ice cream was melting, because your heart was melting; his mouth tasted of chocolate and promises. A soft chuckle escaped him as he pulled away; his promise whispered against your lips. "I-I promise I'll be good t-t-to you."

Being loved suited him; it really, really did wonders on his countenance and it made you wonder what else he could now do.

_________

By now you were a little tired, but Ricks contagious energy invigorated your spirits; you bet he could've come up with an invention and completed it today if he stayed this hyped up. Instead, he used that energy to make fresh rolls to go with the leftover acorn squash soup; you hadn't been that hungry, but you enjoyed it nonetheless. And when dinner had been eaten, you helped him with the dishes; nothing you hadn't done before, but his spirit was lighter and more at ease; he even bumped your hip with his as a gesture of playfulness. After cleaning up the kitchen, he decided that he'd like to take a shower and refresh himself and in the meantime, you stepped out into the backyard to enjoy the beauty of the night. In this part of town, despite the light pollution, you could see a fair amount of stars.

You had never studied astronomy, but Rick had shown you in diagrams and in textbooks of their names and explained how they were formed; to him, their complexity was like poetry, and it made them beautiful. You couldn't recite it by memory, but you had a feeling that beyond your current comprehension perhaps there was life amongst those heavenly bodies, despite the heat or deadly gases; if you had learned anything about space, it was that worlds were more along the lines of art and beauty than fields of science which were easily explained. Yet, in the air, where there was a sweet perfume, thick, but intoxicating, only where you were currently mattered; you saw that in the leftmost part of the yard there was jasmine which was currently in bloom; its blanket of flowers reminding you of snow. Hadn't you read of this somewhere before? Maybe.

In the grass near your feet, grasshoppers leaped away, and crickets chirped their songs. And you relished the strong breezes and the song of the night which may consume a melancholic heart if it were searching for tragedies instead of sweet dreams. And it had only been a few hours ago when you had thought that all of which transpired might've been a dream. Though, whatever truths that had come to light in the hours after the simulation, you were glad of them.

In the dark, sights and sounds were heightened and mesmerizing, albeit curious in its own right; if it hadn't been for the sound barrier Rick had on his property, you would've heard the obnoxious sound of the next-door neighbor's TV as they watched infomercials. Still, it was a beautiful night. Sitting on the bench which overlooked the whole yard, you thought of what wonderful things you'd like to share with Rick, and then he found you. For his part, he had changed into something more relaxed; into a light blue button-down that was similar to the one he was wearing earlier, but this one was softer, and it was paired with navy pants; it reminded you of blue pants Rick with his attire, but it was cute and suited him. With him, he had brought over a tray of goodies and you two ate cookies and cakes and drank earl grey under the moonlit night.

The pause in conversation gave allowances for observations. For example, you took a good long look at him as he sipped his tea; admiring how casual he appeared tonight. Without his labcoat or sweater, his identity seemed separate from that of his dimension jumping, scientist self; making way for the person deep inside; the friendly neighbor who won your heart without even trying. He noticed eventually that you had been staring at him, and he broke the silence with his inquiry. "What are y-you thinking about?"

"I'm thinking about you cutie. You um….you look really good in those blue pants of yours. Thinking of taking up modeling anytime soon?"

"N-no," he answered with an air of obliviousness that you found endearing. "not unless my next work assignment requires it. Gee, why do you ask?"

"Hmm, it's because you wear your clothes well. I always thought you did, but I don't believe I ever mentioned it."

He ruminated on what you said for a few minutes, before setting down his cup. "Did you - did you always find me attractive?"

"No," you confessed. "but you're the only person I've ever really been attracted to. I…..I always liked the fact that our relationship was built on something more substantial. You see, the more I got to know you, the more irresistible I found you. Though," you winked. "those teeth of yours were always too cute to resist."

This truth of yours made him comfortable enough to relinquish one of his own. "C-can I tell you a secret?"

"It's not much of a secret if you tell me dear, but you can tell me anyway."

Wringing his hands together, he confessed solemnly. "That day y-you tripped on the sidewalk nearby my house, I-I almost decided not to cross the road."

Not cross the road? Hmm, it had been an option. In your mind's eye, you could imagine it; the tall, lanky figure of a man debating against his better judgment on what he ought to do; so close but so far; knowing that he was altering the course of his future and putting yours at risk. Poor man, having to wallow over a moral dilemma like that. "Why is that?"

"Gosh, y-you….I didn't want to take advantage of the situation."

It could've been taken that way, but you never thought so. "So what changed your mind?"

"I thought you were going to cry, and I-I didn't… I didn't want you to suffer anymore. I thought t-to myself, that if I got t-t-to know you, then you wouldn't have to be lonely anymore."

When he said this, you nearly couldn't look at him; not because he knew more than he let on, but because who knows what paths you two would've taken if he hadn't shown up that day. Tears bit at the back of your eyes, and your nails bit into your palms. "Dear, love isn't always a cure for heartache," He tensed up at this, but you knew you had to tell him. You weren't upset because you had guessed as much, but being assured of it cemented the fact. "but I'm sure that without you, without your friendship, I might not be here right now. I think I was depressed, and from time to time I still feel that way. I…I have thought of ways to make my troubles end, ways you might not have been proud of, but you've shown me a better way to live. I think…no, I know that by expanding my horizons, I understand now that there's so much to look forward to, and not to take life for granted. Why," you paused, fighting the tears which threatened to fall. "you reminded me that I gotta make the most of this crazy, unpredictable life, and I'm happy that I'll get to do that with you."

He understood and accepted this answer and gave you a look of adoration and pride; the like that you hoped you'd always remember. And when you two were done with tea, you both took a walk about the garden. The sweet perfume of jasmine intermingled with that of the scent of his soap, and combined with the candor of his speech made this place feel like a well of comfort. He followed behind you as you two spoke, and you were conscious of the fact that with his freshly washed hair brushed back, it made him more appealing. His hands were in want of yours as he matched your pace, and you felt slightly mischievous as you'd skip or teased him to catch you; it wasn't long until he gathered you in his arms and laughed, and you asked without much seriousness for him to let you go, but while he loosened his grip, he didn't let go entirely. "Gosh, y-you make me feel so young. It - it feels so good to have you in my arms."

"Oh, really?" you giggled. "That's great to hear."

Pressing a kiss to your temple, he sighed. "It's unfortunate that I'm so old."

"That's okay. I like you as you are. It goes well with your personality."

"Thank you mi corazón. It feels good to hear that. However, can I-I ask you something?"

"Mhm."

"¿Si hubiera s-sido más joven, habría marcado la diferencia?"

"If you had been younger? I don't know. Possibly," you admitted. "I might've been less reluctant about my feelings at the beginning, but I truly don't know. I'd like to think that I'd still would've fallen for you anyway. You're a wonderful man Ricardo, you don't have to doubt that, anyone can see that. It doesn't matter how old you are, but it's who you are."

"Y-you're right." With reluctance, he allowed his arms to drop to his sides, and he wondered. "It um - it's getting late. Should I-I walk you home?"

Was he forgetting that he didn't have to? Maybe not. Perhaps he needed a sign; one that said that any suggestion of further intimacy was alright. "I thought I was home." you answered, "Don't you want me to stay?"

Scratching the back of his neck, he nodded. "Yes, I-I-I-I do."

"Then it's settled. We'll have a big sleepover," you brightened. "and it'll never have to end. I'll borrow a pair of your pj's and hog all the blankets because I'll get cold."

"And in - in the morning," he added warmly, "w-we can have pancakes."

"Yeah, and watch enough interdimensional cable to make us go blind."

"But I-I might have to work tomorrow."

"Oh. Well, then I guess I'll just have to eat all your snacks until you come back. We might have to take a trip to Costco at some point because they sell these mushroom crisps that are to die for."

Standing under the persimmon tree, he stepped forward and gave your shoulder a squeeze. "Y-you can have whatever you want," With a strong arm slipping around your waist, you felt almost shy at the way he smiled protectingly down at you. His warm breath ghosted about your ear, and his voice was above a whisper as he confessed. “because I-I-I finally got you princess and I'm not - I'm not going t-to let you go.”

At the sound of this pet name, you felt a slight warmth rush to your cheeks, but you didn't laugh it off as you had once but agreed with warmth. “You may do as you please, Mr. Sanchez.”

And so he did. Without hesitation, he lifted your chin and brushed your lips with his thumb. His eyes sparkling with humor, promise, and a confidence that was somehow so very appropriate on his face. "I love you. I-I-I always have. From the time I first held your hand, I knew it had to be you. I would've been a fool if I - if I hadn't tried. Even now, it's hard to believe, but it's starting to sink in."

"Me too. It's unbelievable, but it's true and we have the paperwork to prove it."

Leaning down, he pressed a sweet kiss onto your lips. It was so gentle, it was as though you might break if he tried otherwise. Kissing you again, he sighed against your lips. "It's beautiful out t-tonight."

"It is."

Pressing a hand to his cheek, you softened. "But I think I'm ready to call it a night. Why don't we go in?"

Weaving his fingers with yours, he softened. "Okay."

You used to think to yourself and wonder if his house would ever be ready to receive you, but what you now realized was that it had always been ready, and only you had been waiting for it all to catch up; for him to know what he wanted and to be courageous and say; for you to know what you needed, and to accept that being yourself didn't make you any less attractive or unique and that you weren't alone; you had never been alone, for he had always been waiting. His home, why it was always home, but it was always home because he was what grounded you and you were what grounded him. And you felt so married to him then, and everything felt as it should. Nothing had really changed, except for a title, and a promise; for you two were friends as you had always been; him the happy go lucky old man, and you the silly neighbor who met him by accident, but you couldn't deny that you loved him with your entire being and so did he. As promised, he intended to do everything in his power to protect you, even as you two were getting ready for bed. His body seemed to curl around you as to shield you from whatever monsters could be hiding in the dark.

So, when it happened that you rested your head upon his chest and felt the temptation of sleep washing over you, you pressed a light kiss to his cheek and confessed softly. "I can't wait to wake up next to you."

Fin

#doofus rick #doofus rick x reader #rick sanchez x reader #J19ζ7 #j19z7 #rick j19z7 #Rick and morty #Rnm #rnm fanfic #rnm fanfiction #rick and morty fanfiction #rick and morty fanfic #multi chapter #marriage #my fanfiction #my works #my writing #fanfiction #my fanfic

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regrettablewritings · 6 years

Note

I'm not sure if you write for Stranger Things but if you do could you do Steve Harrington X reader for the ship meme?

Thank you so much for waiting!!!

How differently do they think of eachother now compared to when they first met?: First and foremost, there’s layers tohow you and Steve Harrington viewed one another both when you first met andfrom then on after. You knew of SteveHarrington because you didn’t have any other choice: He was the big man oncampus with his good looks and confident personality. (Plus, it helped that inthe small, sleepy town of Hawkins, everybody knew everybody.) You already kindof had your suspicions that that confidence was really just arrogance to somedegree but didn’t actually know him well enough to push it. But those verysuspicions were confirmed when the two of you landed in a class together.

Biology, while not the hardest subject for you, still took a bit of time andfocus to assure that you could move on to junior year. But all Steve Harringtonseemed to need to do was smile that admittedly dashing smile of his, andwhichever girl he picked for his lab partner would practically feed him hernotes. If he was saddled with another guy, he’d probably offer to hype them upto some girl who would probably only give them the time of day simply toimpress Steve with what a “good, open heart” she had. And if it was the teacherthat was concerned, he just needed to play up the All-American Boy act and hecould skirt by that semester with a solid C. C- at worst.

Passing biology with a C wasn’t anything to be ashamed of but when it wasearned by not actually earning it at all, it pissed you off. He never reallyhad to work his way through biology (or any class, you assumed). In fact, youwere pretty sure that the only time he actually had to make an effort was whenhe wound up getting grouped with you to study a colony of C. reinhardtii and take notes. You had observed him just longenough to know his typical tricks, so you sure as hell weren’t going to fallfor them. Steve found himself struggling to not look gobsmacked by yourresistance. (He fought even more to not appear confused about the subject matteronce he realized how little he actually knew due to his lack of effort inclass.)

From that exposure, Steve concluded with blunt simplicity that you were aboring bitch. Sorry, but it was true: Your avoidance of feeding his ego didn’tsit well with him, and he was all too quick and pleased to have as manymemories of the interactions fazed out of his mind. (In hindsight, he would’veacknowledged this with far better understanding but, hey, what did he know?Clearly not how to spell “reinhardtii.”)The fact that your hard work paid off and allowed you to skip junior yearstraight on into senior year made the ability to do so much easier.

There wasn’t much chance (thank God) or reason for you to interact with him.You weren’t looking to because he was irritating, and he wasn’t looking tobecause you were a passing face whose name he didn’t much care to remember onceyou were out of sight, out of mind. You two were like passing ships up untilthe metaphorical collision wherein he his friends threw water balloonsat your car on what happened to be your last day at Hawkins High. To be fair(more like generous), they weren’t specificallyaiming for you. But you sure as hell were pissed when your car found itself inthe “crosswater” of their artillery. And, just like your car, you left, drivingoff into the distance.

Well, as distant as the college of your choice could take you.

You would’ve been content to have the story end right then and there, butfate (and your mental state) had other plans. Apparently, college wasadditionally a time for existential crises and questioning if one has actuallychosen the right path for them. You wish you’d been told that before you wentand spent two and a half years drying your soul up in a well of academia. Youtried to take your decision to return home for a break in stride, however. Youtold yourself that you weren’t going to do any good if you yourself didn’t feelgood, which was true. Besides, it wasn’t as though you weren’t actually doinganything: In the time you’d spent away, apparently Hawkins had acquired a mall.And malls meant jobs. And jobs meant money, even if it meant plastering on asmile you didn’t feel up for.

To be fair, your first day at Claire’s hadn’t been too terribly bad. Butconsidering that this was the first mall in Hawkins and was still all the rage,it was constantly busy with tweens huddling in and out. By the end of yourshift, your feet were sore, you were not one step closer to deciding what to doabout your situation, and the energy acquired from your brief lunchbreak hadlong since worn off. These things alone were enough to convince you that you’dearned a treat. Ice cream, to be more specific. And la dee da, this mall hadcome with its very own Scoops Ahoy!

Complete with (to your amusement and secondhand embarrassment) sailor-themeduniforms and the dead-eyed expressions they inspired, as evidenced by the youngman managing the counter at the time of your arrival. Talk about awkward. Itwas enough to make you want to place your order and get the heck out of there.

“Hello,” you said, forcing yourself to create and maintain eye contact outof courtesy. “I would like a – ”

Wait, you paused. You recognizedthat mane of hair; not even the dopey sailor’s cap could conceal it!

“Steve?” you asked aloud, brows raised to your hairline. “Steve Harrington?”Steve Harrington tensed. His eyes widened. “… Nnnnnnooooooo but unrelated,can you take this waffle cone and jab the pointed end into my temple? Totallyunrelated, I swear.”

But you did not stab him, let alone with the sugar cone he presented youwith. And while you did provide inevitable laughter and even a handful of jabs,it never went too far. After all, a job was a job, there was only so much thatcould be said about the getup. At the very least it certainly made you gratefulthat your job wasn’t nearly as humiliating. But you had to admit, it was quitenice to see how humbled it had made Steve… . At least, you’d thought that it was the costume thatmade the young man more grounded at first. But apparently, he’d been differenteven before then.

The more you dipped into the ice cream parlor (because let’s face it, for abusiness that embarrassed its employees, they sure knew what they were doingwith their frozen goods), the more you knew of this new Steve. And he wasnothing like he’d been when you both attended school together. He’s much more .. . dependable. And far less conceited. Sure, he still made an effort topromote this image of having dignity (it was the only thing keeping him alivein this sailor-themed icy hell), but it was nowhere near the extent of whichhad made him a colossal asshole. In fact, by the time you two had started tothink of one another in more romantic terms, you concluded that Steve was a bigsofty with a surprisingly dedicated heart who had the capacity to give a personhis absolute all. Hell, there were points where you suspected he’d give his ownlife up in a tight spot. It was weird. But also such a dramatic shift that youwondered what could’ve possibly have happened in the relatively short periodyou’d been gone. As for Steve, he’d be quick to admit that he didn’t really know you before. Butif he dug deep into the recesses of his mind, he could validate that becausefrom what he recalled, you were a lot shyerback then. More reserved and arguably even a doormat to some degree. And whileit was still true that you weren’t anything outlandish, time had certainly madeyou a bit bolder than before. Maybe it was time away in college, maybe it wasbeing away from the sleepy town that was Hawkins. Whatever the case, youcertainly conversed more and were a little quicker to speak your mind or act inways to assure the results you wanted. He had a newfound respect for your workethic, impressed that you could uphold it for such an extended period of timewhereas he was relatively recently just getting used to the practice. Plus,it’s pretty much canon that Steve holds whomever he dates in high regards, sohe ultimately just thinks you’re the best.

What do their friends/family think oftheir relationship?: Nobody saw it coming, least of all your own friends and family. When Stevefirst came to meet your parents, one of the first things that flew out of yourdad’s mouth was, “Wait, isn’t this the guy that sprayed your car with shavingcream?” (It took a bit to clarify and convince him that that was actually hisformer friends who had done it, not the young man himself.) Even still, yourparents had some hesitancy about the relationship. You dad even threatened toknock Steve out if he did anything to “break his little girl’s heart.”

Your friends were only somewhat better, having had more of a chance toobserve Steve’s progression as a person for themselves after a decent few ofthem stayed back in Hawkins for one reason or another. Still, they held theusual amount of concern as anyone would for a friend who’d suddenly begun todate someone with whom they’d had previous disdain. But once they’re assuredand have proven for themselves that Steve isn’t a threat, they warm up to himquickly and make light taunts aimed at him about “what a nice, little gentlemanhe’s become.” Steve’s parents, having had no idea about your previousrelationship with their son, had even fewer thoughts. You dare even say thatthey were predominately indifferent to the situation! Their son always seemedto be with a different girl for most of his dating life; there wasn’t much theycared to say about the situation besides being courteous whenever you werearound (which, as Steve made sure, wasn’t often). At most, they thought as muchof it as how a parent typically feels about their son dating.

And of the kids … Should they really care? Not really. Though it shouldbe noted that Dustin, being the nice kid that he is (and the one who looks upto Steve the most), has an awareness of the relationship. The result is lightjabs aimed at Steve every chance he gets. However, Steve takes them in strideand tried to use the relationship as an example of how to treat a partner anddevelop as a person, especially when regarding the way he used to be when you two first met.

How do their personalities/skills complement orcontrast with each other?: The most obvious (and thereby mostfrequent) contrast that most people associate you two with is how your academicprowess compares to his own. That is to say, they call you book smart whileSteve is … not. And while this is arguably true, you personally prefer notto put focus on that aspect (a stark contrast to how it was in high school).Instead, you prefer to note the other obvious way with which the two of youdiffer: How you’re a comparative introvert compared to his more outgoingcharacter. It’s this more extroverted nature of his that results in you slowlyand steadily going out more and “being young but, like, a good percentagecarefree” as Steve puts it. Because while he’s become far more responsible inrecent years, you still have the most experience when it comes to keepingmindful.

However, it arguablymakes for a cute sort of opposites-attract kind of thing with you making himrethink his decisions and him getting you to open up a bit more.

What is their favorite aspect of each other?: If you had told your 11th gradeself that Steve Harrington was capable of selflessness and willing to givesacrifice for the safety and happiness of others, you would’ve laughed yourselfto death. Then haunted the current timeline’s version of you for spreading suchlies. Up until the ghost of you learned that it was not only true, but itsuited the young hotshot surprisingly well. Indeed, while it was true that ittook some getting used to even for Steve himself, the truth was there: He hadthe makings of a truly kind and caring person. In fact, if you had to make noteof another aspect of him, you’d be quick to express delight over howsurprisingly dedicated he could actually be: Once he’s found something he’staken to, he becomes loyal to that something and is determined to put as mucheffort as he can into the circumstance. And you damn near questioned whetheryou were having a stroke when you saw him interacting with some local kids in away that actually wasn’t assholish. Sure,his consistent execution was a bit shaky but the fact that he was even makingan effort at all is impressive considering that just two years ago, he wasnothing more than a stereotypical pompous jock.

Or at least, that was theimage he’d created for himself. It was expected of him, after all, as the school’swinning basketball jock. Part of why he was never aware of hisown potential for kindness until recently was because the group he’d hung outwith before made no attempts to push him to look inside of himself. They neverattempted to know him through and through, only encouraging what was theabsolute worst of him. That’s why he’s so grateful over how patient you can bewhen concerning him. Sure, people hear him talk, but few actually ever listen, much less the way that he needsfor them to. Granted, he’d been warmed up a bit by the time you’d come back toHawkins, but he certainly still had a ways to go. It was by the grace of yourdecision to extend upon him your tolerance that he was able to better exerciseit because let’s be real: He needs somebody to bounce off of, or a figure tokeep a focus on in order to do his best. Whether it’s to protect, to care for,or to recognize that he needs to be a better person for his own growth.

Do either of them have pet peevesabout each other?: Steve isn’t very confrontational. To be fair, neither are you, but you’ve cometo accept that putting off issues and pretending like they’re not there justmakes things even worse. Eventually, you suck it up and push yourself throughthe issue. But Steve still relies on the mindset that if you smother asituation long enough, it’ll just die before it becomes an actual issue; aremnant from the days where he used this to slip out of predicaments.

Steve can be surprisingly patient when it comes with the person he loves,but he definitely has a breaking point. And it’s hit when that modest behaviorof yours evolves into uptightness. (Or rather, what he accuses of beinguptight.) He knows that sometimes he can still go too far about things, or thatnot everything is your cup of tea no matter how worldly you become. But that’sno reason to scold him let alone patronize him! Let loose for once, geez! If Nancy could do it, why can’t you?! …Oh … Oh, wait, no –

How would each reconcile with eachother after a fight?: Considering what happened the last time he was in a relationship and a fighttranspired, Steve honestly gets a little nervous when the two of you have yourfirst actual fight. Not an inevitable lover’s tiff, but an actual, voice-raising,angrily-talking-with-hands argument. This is the end, he thinks. He shouldn’tfeel this wound up about it considering that the two of you hadn’t been goingout for too, too long. But he can’t help it: the idea hurts as any prospect ofa break up would. And not to knock on you, but he believes you have very littlereason to get too tied up with him. He’s already on thin ice from those yearsof being a pig-headed jackass after all.

Unfortunately, because he spent all those years being a self-centered jerkwho put in very little effort, he doesn’t have any exact practice in perfectingthe art of fight reconciliation. He’s never actually had to apologize foranything before his relationship with Nancy, and it wasn’t as though that attempt to express remorse everactually came to fruition. But from that, what we do know is that he’s a traditionalist. Or maybe he just has solittle experience that this was the only thing he could think to do. Whateverthe case, Steve is the type to give you guys some time away from one another,however agonizing it may be for his poor, restless soul. After that actual dayor two of separation, expect him to come to your door toting the best bouquetthat money made at Scoops Ahoy could buy, accompanied with an apology. Becauseeven if he doesn’t necessarily feel at fault for the argument, he hates thefeeling of you being mad at him even more.

If you want to talk, he’ll sit and listen, but you need to not becondescending or act as though you’re explaining things to a child. If you talkto him with the same amount of respect he gives you and listen to him the wayhe needs to be listened to, he’ll make more of an effort to take your words tomind and do better about whatever had caused the argument in the first place.

For your end, however, be prepared to confront whatever faults you may havehad in the issue. The plain and short is that, like anyone, Steve disdains feeling as though the brunt endof the dispute falls on him. The difference is that most people typicallyunderstand their issues; Steve’s only just now getting the hang of it thanks tohis late bloomer position in terms of serious dating. Even if he was thecatalyst of the issue, the best way to go about it is to state something alongthe lines of, “I’m sorry that I didn’t confront you or the situation in a waythat would’ve produced a better outcome.” However, gently push him to be moremindful; he can’t act as though the fight is only ever one-sided. But remembernot to seem snooty about it or else the two of you are just going to fightagain.

(Additional tidbit: Also, once SayAnything comes out, expect for him to also attempt to do the boomboxoutside the window thing. You know the one. Don’t get too into it, though,because there’s a 75 – 85% chance that he dropped it after holding it above hishead for a little while because fellas, boomboxes are big and heavy.)

What would be their ideal vacationgetaway together?: Nearly anywhere else sounds amazing when compared toHawkins. But if he had to narrow it down, Martha’s Vineyard. He and his WASP-yfamily went one summer and it just tickled his little heart (probably becausethe other girls vacationing there enjoyed gawking at him as he strolled thebeach). Of course, being that the two of you are quite young and quite broke,you’re not going to be able to go any time soon. But he’d love to be able totake you there one day. Maybe collect some seashells and eat some damn goodchowder. …Maybesomesexonthebeachmaybe.

But if he had to pick some place more affordable, maybe Gatlinburg. It’s apretty big shift from the upper crust vibe of MV, but he can’t help it: There’ssomething delightfully kitschy about the place with all its rustic charm andfried foods and whatnot!

Think of a new way (AU, differentsituation, etc.) they could have met for the first time: Dustin was a goodkid. Sure, sometimes he let a dirty word slip. And maybe on occasion he stayed out too long at Mike Wheeler’s housefor a session of whatever game those kids were into. But as a whole, mostparents would give an arm, a leg, and an eyeball to have a kid like him!

These were the thoughts Steve Harrington repeated to himself over and overagain as he sat outside of the drama teacher’s classroom. Well, that, and alsosome not so pleasant gripes about the seating options. Apparently, HawkinsMiddle had no adult-sized chairs to spare, as evidenced by the only offersbeing small, plastic, navy blue chairs that obviously had been swiped from someclassroom elsewhere. If he could, Steve would’ve opted to just stand and wait. Unfortunately,the sensibility of his sensible shoes had worn away, leaving behind a pain inhis soles that threatened to fuck him up if he dared to stand any longer thanwhat was necessary. But then again, it didhave more dignity to it; there was something a bit humiliating aboutstruggling to fit one adult-sized butt cheek into the dip of the little stool.

“Couldn’t bring out some goddamn …” he muttered, just barely avoidingkneeing himself in the chin. There was just way too much multitasking going onfor his liking: Sitting in this damn chair, trying not to hurt himself whilealso trying not to panic at the fact that he’d been called in by his son’steacher.

Dustin had existed for years without coming home with a teacher’s noterequesting a meeting. But then, Dustin had also existed for years as a child ina two-parent household. And duringall that time, he hadn’t acted out or anything … But things were differentnow. The signs were all there and even though Steve had made himself open toconversation, he simply trusted Dustin to come to him when he was ready.Unfortunately, the teacher’s note came first and that was all Steve needed tobe on the cusp of panic that his son was suffering far more than he knew and hehad, by default, failed at being a good parent on his own. Cue Steve rapidlyrelaying the aforementioned declarations to himself once more with double theaggression. It had been both a godsend and a gut-squeezer when the sound of theoffice door clicking open disrupted his umpteenth run of the mantra. The voicecame first.

“Sorry for the wait,” it flowed out. It was sweet, almost melodious, yetseemed to contain a sort of power laying just beneath the surface, giving everysyllable a hint of strength. Just what one ought to expect from somebody whosecareer surrounded conquering the stage.

But what Steve hadn’t expected was the form to whom the voice belonged. Thedoor creaked as it was opened further, followed by the soft tap of a heeledfoot stepping forward outside of the threshold.

“But thank you so much for doing so patiently.” A pair of perfectly coloredlips smiled at him. And suddenly, for the first time since he’d gotten theletter three days ago, Steve’s rapid heartbeat couldn’t be chalked up toanxiety.

++++++++++

Well, you thought, observing theman before you. At least now I know whereDustin got his hair from. Was it weird to be taking in the father of one ofyour students? Probably. Maybe. Yes. But you tried to ease off the weirdness byreminding yourself that you’d never actually met the man before. You weresimply taking in the features was all. As a teacher for an elective class (anda new one at that), Mr. Harrington had been under no obligation to meet youduring open house. Furthermore, you were essentially an outsider to the Hawkinseducational circuit: After years of performances at theater companies in acouple of states, you thought it might be time to quiet down in a quiet townwhich you could proceed to introduce some theatrical zest to. And while Hawkinswas definitely a place in need of such vigor, there still was apparently a bitof a culture clash even on your end (well, besides the dramatic shift from citylife to whatever the heck this hamlet could be considered).

Specifically, how so many of the people here grew up here and therefore knewone another. Especially when it concerned Steve Harrington. Apparently back inhigh school, he was The Man™ and had since been established as somewhat of asmall-town legend of sorts as a result. And while the man before you wasn’tnecessarily the maverick the women around the water cooler had had youenvisioning, you had to admit: He certainly was nice to look at. Especially for a dad. Most fathers you’dmet during your short time here were schlubby or indifferent at best. But Mr.Harrington held a sort of boyish handsomeness to him, as though time had onlydone him justice rather than the expected harm. And considering that you’dworked alongside some pretty handsome people during your stint as an actress,that was saying something.

You offered your hand out to him.

“Hi, I’m Dustin’s drama instructor, Ms. (L/N),” you grinned. It requiredyour skills in acting to avoid acting like the giddy schoolgirl you feltyourself threatening to revert to. It was a façade that nearly cracked when theman, grunting as he stood himself to his full, lanky height, accepted it intohis own with a firm handshake.

For a former basketball player, his hands were surprisingly soft.

++++++++

Well, Steve thought, following you into your office. They didn’t make teachers like that when I was growing up. Or maybe they did, just not in Hawkins.Frankly, you didn’t look like you belonged in the sleepy town: You could’vebeen a star with a face and voice like that. And with a body like that … an invasive thought commented,forcing his eyes to watch the sway of your hips as you rounded yourself aboutyour desk.

Oh, shut up, you creep, the morelogical part of his mind scolded. We’renot here to gawk, we’re here to find out what the heck the kid did.

“Once again, thanks for agreeing to meet with me,” you said, taking your ownseat opposite to him. (Steve couldn’t fathom how somebody could actually makethe process of sitting down look graceful but you did it.) “I understand that itwas a bit last minute, so trust me when I say that it’s greatly appreciated.”

“Oh, no, it was no trouble at all,” Steve found himself insisting. He threwin a smile for good measure, though deep down he knew it was for more than justthat. He almost wanted to kick his own ass for it. This was no time to harkenback to his playboy days – he had a kid now, and that whom this meeting wasabout. His poor, sweet kid of whom probably drove this poor woman to drink froma desk flask; this was no time to be focusing on such foolishness as making hisavailability shamelessly known.

“Well, Mr. Harrington, I’ll just cut to the chase,” you sighed. The puff ofair, gentle as it may have been, was more than enough to cause Steve’s ownbreathing to still.

Oh, god, he grieved, this is it. The moment of truth, whereinSteve would have to confront the fact that he’d fucked up as a father and nowhis kid was paying the price.

You went on, “You see, Dustin’s –"

“I’m sorry,” Steve blurted. For all the acting you had been doing up to thatpoint that evening, even you couldn’t stop yourself from hiding the confusionthat interruption had caused. Your rapid blinking went unnoticed by the manbefore you, however, as evidence by the fact that you’d made an effort to speakfurther only to be cut off once more.

“I get it if it means nothing, like if it doesn’t fix any of this but I just– ” It all came tumbling down from the inside out. It started as that all toofamiliar ball of anxiety that dwelled within the man’s stomach, tremblingupward into his lungs. It didn’t take long at all before it manifested on hisface as an expression of regret and disappointment – all directed at himself.His eyes scrunched closed. All you could do was sit there quietly, watching ashe squeezed the bridge of his nose in a failing effort to alleviate thediscomfort.

“Dustin,” Steve sighed finally, “he’s a good kid, I swear. But I get it ifhe hasn’t been acting right lately; that’s myfault. I know I should be more attentive to him but just … You know howkids are, they never wanna talk to you even when you wanna talk to them but it’s just all so hard – ” Hiseyes flew open, revealing hazel hues encased with worry. He opened his hand indefeat, shaking it for emphasis.

“But it’s just like? You don’t wanna forcethem or anything because shit’s – I mean, stuff is tough. I feel like he hasn’t been the same since – ” Hewaved a hand in random directions “—since that.But it’s also like he’s hiding things from me. A kid needs his mother but she’snot around anymore so it’s all I can do to at least try to take on that role in some way, I guess. And I’m trying to bea good parent in all this but … But it’s hard. Really hard. I’m on my own,nobody taught me how to do this, let alone on my own all of a sudden so it’slike I’m relearning everything from scratch and I’m trying to get our craptogether but – And I feel like … Like I’m failing him.” He paused,uncertain of where the newly budded feeling of horror within him was sourcingfrom: That he was really vomiting his emotions out in such away-too-informative manner, or that he could swear his eyes were beginning tosting with the threat of tears.

Being that the courses you taught were electives (and therefore had littlebearing on a student’s report card in most regards), most parents who’d visitedyou in your brief time at Hawkins Middle didn’t care enough to shed any tears.If there was ever a problem that needed addressing, the typical response fromthe parents was to get on your case or passive aggressively suggest thatperhaps you weren’t cut out for teaching or that theater wasn’t even thatimportant to begin with. It certainly stung and made you feel discomfort onyour own part, but it wasn’t anything you weren’t prepared to handle or atleast hadn’t experienced in some way, shape, or form before during yourprofessional stint. But honestly, you’d never considered the possibility thatone parent would cry. Much less that it would not only be a father, but the legendarySteve Harrington on top of it. And dispensing such information, no less!

Even in all your confusion, you felt deep for the man. And as therealization of the depth of his words settled in, so did a weight inside of you.And yet, in all your uncertainty, you couldn’t think of anything more to offerthan, “I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington. I didn’t know …” You awkwardly ushered asmall box of tissues towards him. While Steve did accept it, he didn’t make useof it. In fact, he seemed to be making an effort of sorts to do damage control.Of course, there’s only so much controlling that can be done when one dispensesso much baggage in such a scenario.

“No, no,” he sniffed insistently, “it’s not your fault. You couldn’t haveknown, it’s not your job to.” You bit your lip. You wondered if it was appropriateto state that, to an extent, it was.At the very least, if you wanted to be aware of a certain child’s well-beingbut …

Steve cleared his throat, his expression becoming manageable once more. “Butwhatever it was that he did, I’ll be sure to have a talk with him when I gethome.” It’s been long enough, heinwardly sighed with defeat. Painful to acknowledge but necessary.

“Well, actually …” You pressedthe tips of your fingers together, awkwardly trying to pull the nearly one-sidedconversation down a more comprehensible and survivable path.

“I’ve had a chance to see that for myself: Dustin is a good kid.”

Wait … What? At the sound ofthat statement, Steve perked with interest and his own brand of confusion. Morespecifically one that dared to be hopeful.

“In fact,” you went on, happy to notice the subtle change, “he’s more thanjust good; he’s a wonderful student. That’s actually why I called you in today.”

Brown brows furrowed over widening hazel eyes.

“I … What?” he questioned dully. You offered him a small smile andnodded.

“I’ll be honest, sir, I haven’t been teaching for very long at all. But I’vebeen in the theater business long enough to know a true performer when I seeand hear one.”

Steve only nodded. It was all he could do, really. He couldn’t find thewords, let alone finish piecing thought after thought with ever word youdelivered.

“Soooo …” you said in a sing-song voice (one that, in spite of hiscurrent state, Steve could still compute as lovely and sweet). “I was wonderingif it would be appropriate to possibly discuss taking it a step further.” Atthis point, Steve’s thoughtful state broke with the fluttering of his lashed.

“Pardon?” he asked. “ ‘A step further’ how? Exactly?”

You pursed your lips. “Well,” you lowered your hand to a desk drawer andretrieved a slip of paper. “I thought that perhaps this may be a start. At thevery least, it’s something to consider.” Steve accepted it, quick to notice avery familiar image in the header: Two masks, one smiling and one frowning.

“I’ve recently gotten involved with the Hawkins Playhouse,” you explained,allowing Steve the time to read over the information. In grainy but stillrelatively comprehensible images, he could make out people in whimsical costumesposing and grinning at the camera. Below them, in slightly bulky font, were thewords, “Fun! Expressive! Cultured!”

“Normally, kid parts wind up being played by adults because we can’t getenough children interested or involved, let alone dedicated enough to actuallystick to it. But Dustin?” You flashed Steve Harrington a grin. “I’ve seen thatcharacter of his; I can’t help but feel like it’s a bit too big for just a classroomelective. I’ve seen people like that. They have the potential to go far, if Ido say so myself!”

“Hm,” Steve hummed, bringing his eyes back up to you. At the sight of yoursmile, he couldn’t help but force his eyes back down to the sheet before him.He also may have attempted to lift it closer to his face to hide the blush hefeared was beginning to develop. “S-so you’re saying that Dustin … mighthave a chance at this?” That dare to hope had grown, becoming all the moreevident in his voice. It made a warmth begin to dwell inside of you, a completecontrast from the mood just moments before.

You nodded. “Pretty much. Of course, it’s all up to Dustin and yourself. Andhe would still need to audition for shows. But I just wanted to bring this toyour attention, if just for thought. Your son has a lot of potential, Mr.Harrington.” You heard a slight huff from behind the paper; maybe oneaccompanied by a smile, but who knew?

“You should be proud.”

Unfortunately, you weren’t entirely certain if he was or if he wasn’t. Notwith that paper still in the way. It was in that break of silence that youobserved the man’s trembling ever so slightly.

Uh-oh. Your smile faltered. Whilethe slight breakdown from earlier had been unexpected, you had certainly beenprepared for what you assumed was about to happen. The abundance of parents(especially dads) who were against their sons becoming more and more involvedin the theater world was near endless. You’d seen far too many disgruntled andintolerant assholes criticize their sons, calling them absolutely horrid names.Sure, Steve Harrington did something most of them would not do (that is, cryand basically vomit up his anxieties), but you of all people knew by now:Tolerance had the weirdest limitations. If one thing was fine to one person,there was no for certain guarantee that something possibly linked was just asacceptable.

You had wanted to believe that maybe Steve would be different, that he wouldactually be excited to hear that his child was thriving. It certainly beat thealternative that he’d worried about before. But as the silence went on, themore that hope of yours dwindled. After what had felt like an eternity ofawkwardness, you couldn’t take any more of it. You just wanted him out of your officeif he was going to be like this.

“Mr. Harrington,” you said. Your voice no longer carried the honeyed tonesfrom before. “Are you alright?”

“Mm,” came the hum once more. But this time, you could actually see the facebeing made as it was produced. The paper lowered to reveal Steve’s face, slightlyunfocused but completely awash with something that made the tenseness almostimmediately evaporate: Relief.

“I am,” he said quietly, eyes still trained on the piece of paper he held. Henodded. “I am. It’s just … Wow.” For the first time since he’d even satdown, he slumped against the chair. His spine was grateful for the relief, butnot nearly so much as his nerves were.

“Wow,” he whispered once more. “This … This is incredible.” As he deliveredthat proclamation, you heard a hint of a giggle. “No, really, you don’t get howmuch this means to me.” In his growing joy, Steve forgot his nerves for asecond, allowing his eyes to flicker up back to your face.

“My kid … My kid is thriving?Like, he’s not screwing around or anything?” he questioned.

You bit your lip. Perhaps in an attempt to keep from laughing, but youmanaged to disguise it well enough to pass off as a habit of thought.

“Well, I can’t say if that’s the case with his other classes,” you admitted.“But considering that I’ve never heard anything around the water cooler about Dustin,I’d say that your child’s doing just fine, all things considered.”

A sigh rippled from the smile that was beginning to ease onto Steve’s lips. “Oh,thank God,” he said. He poised his hands apart, gently shaking them as iftrying to grab for the right words. “It’s just great to see him thriving. It’sthe best thing I could ask for, really. I feel like I should be thanking you,actually.”

At that, it was your turn to feel blush threaten your face. You tensed,waving your hands as if to ward off the suggestion. “Oh, nonononono! It’s notrouble at all, seriously! Dustin is a delight in class and I’m just so used toseeing people waste their potential – I just thought I could do my part and seeif that could be avoided in his case.” All the while, Steve nodded. Had thisbeen last week, he would’ve been in too much of a funk to have progressed anyfurther. It wouldn’t be true to call it a complete opposition to how he hadbeen when he was a teenager, but it certainly wouldn’t be much of anexaggeration either.

But in this moment, right now? He was invigorated. He was like a hot rodwith a fresh coat of paint and a new engine. It had felt like an eternity sincehe’d experienced good news but tonight, he felt like he’d hit a triple whammy: Hewasn’t failing as a father, Dustin was doing okay, and, most uplifting of all, Dustin had a shot at something that made himhappy. It was too much; it needed to be expressed in the most SteveHarrington-way possible.

“Maybe … Buuuuttt … I think this still calls for a celebration of sorts.”He flashed you a smirk that had had many years of practice and perfecting, a grinthat had been his moneymaker back in high school. And judging by your body language,it still worked.

“I …” You stammered. You had to be honest with yourself: While you’dseen many a handsome smile, what with all the actors you’d run into, they hadnothing on Steve’s smile. “I wouldn’t say a ‘celebration,’” you said, avertingyour eyes. But only for a moment. When you returned them to him, they had beenrenewed with confidence. “But maybe perhaps to discuss looking into the HawkinsPlayhouse? A piece of paper can only explain so much, and I’m sure Dustin wouldlike to be in on it as soon as possible.”

“Oh, most definitely,” Steve agreed, that smile and steadied stare neverwavering once. “Sounds like a date to me.”

“Indeed, it does,” you said through a smile that threatened to wobble into apile of goo. You could feel your heart throbbing, but not quite in the same wayas it did whenever you got nervous before a performance. That was because youcouldn’t act anymore; you were most certainly reverting back to the schoolgirl whofreaked out after catching the eye of the school’s heartthrob.

You no longer had any doubts in your mind that Steve Harrington was TheMan™ that your peers had talked about.

#i forgot how to write is it evident #or maybe i'm just tired...#either way!! thank so sosososo much for being patient!!!#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #regrettablewritings #ship memes

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