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spices-and-cherries · 3 years

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Rampage (Chapter 3)

JAMES BOND X READER

Chapter 3 is finally out! Is it rough? Yes. Is it months late? Yes. Do I care? No. Why? Because I’m having fun writing it! This chapter does feel a little rushed even though I tried to draw it out. I dunno. Is he too ooc?

I did not reference race, gender, sexuality, or physical appearance. If I missed something, please let me know so I can change it!

Warnings: violence, death, car chase, car accident, alcohol, angst

Masterlist:

Chapter 3: Parcel

James had been too preoccupied to bother following the movements of the remaining men, but he had heard whispers a year ago about a club being formed with some very similar faces affiliated with it.

What if Keery's husband hadn't died afterall? And this was some sort of sick and twisted revenge plan?

For the first time in a long while, James had genuinely no idea what to do.

"Hey." A hand waved in front of his face. "Hey!" He blinked as his eyes focused on the woman in front of him. "Are you okay?" He runs a hand through his hair.

"That paper could be the key to save someone's life. Just... Let me look at it and I'll give it back. I promise."

After a long pause, she holds the paper out in front of her. Taking it, he quickly reads it. Like he thought, it was a receipt involving some sort of business deal with The End Club. Arms trading?

"How did this get into the hands of Slane?"

"That's what I want to figure out too." The woman snatches the paper back.

"What's your connection to them?"

"...Why should I tell you?"

"Depending on what's going on here, I can help you."

"It's a secret." She turned and started for the door.

"Judging by the fact that you have a gun and sneaking about a place like this, you're out for blood, but the thing is, you don't really know how to shoot, do you?"

"...I don't see how it's any of your business!" She stopped, her back turned to him and her fists clenched.

"Well, if we were to run into each other, which we undoubtedly will, I don't exactly want to be shot on accident in the crosshairs." He walked towards her. "You help me by telling me everything I need to know and I'll make sure your bullet hits the mark."

"How do I know you're not lying?"

"Because I have a strong feeling we're looking for the same people."

-----

"I know a place where we can get a booth." The girl - Violet - pulled out of her parking spot, apparently dead-set on getting a drink. He, for once, could very much do without. Drinking vodka martini's were just the distraction he very much did not need at the moment. But he needed information and was now working on someone else's time. Maybe the drinks will chase the worry away.

Had they hurt you? Did you get fed? Had they taken advantage of you? Were you injured?

A finger snapped in front of his face.

"Wake up! We're here!" When he got out of the car, the cold air hit him right in the face. It brought him out of his little spell - or at least enough to make him think coherently.

"...Vodka martini. Don't care how."

"And a chocolate martini, please."

"A what, miss?"

"Make that two vodka martini's." He butt in, ordering for her.

"What the hell?"

"I should be asking you that."

"What? Chocolate martinis are good."

"And for children."

"...So what will it be?" Asked the waiter, looking confused.

"Just get me a martini." Violet sighed, glaring at James before going back to the menu. "Could you please add mozzarella sticks to that?" The waiter nodded and rushed away. She clasped her hands and looked him straight in the eye. "So. What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

"...My father used to work for a meat company." She leaned back in her seat and put her hands in her lap. "At one point, when I was really little, the company was taken over by a new owner and they renamed the place to End Club Meats & Co. My father - being one of the engineers or whatever - was one of the people they kept around. I guess his type are hard to come around. As the years went by, he seemed to be home less and less until one day, some men knocked on our door and informed us that he had died in a work accident." She paused when the drinks were set on the table. "A few years ago, I was contacted by one of his coworkers who claimed that there was more to it than that. Apparently, he'd been called to the head office and never came out. I've been trying to find out who did it and why ever since."

"And Slane?"

"I found his name somewhere and thought he was connected somehow. I was trying to find out how when you found me."

"What are you going to do now?

"Uh, trace the receipts back to who was involved and kill them. Of course, that's easier said than done considering I have no idea what I'm doing." James briefly wondered how she hadn't been killed in her sleep already.

"Are you familiar with the name Stone? He's a henchman of sorts."

"...No? I don't believe so. Now, can you please tell me what any of this has to do with you? I'd like to know my protector a little more." There was an edge of sarcasm in her voice that he simply didn't feel like humoring.

"I work for her Majesty as an agent, meaning-"

"You're a copper. Got it. Move on." He really didn't like her tone.

"Meaning, that I go after people in the underground who are like Slane and worse. A few years ago, I had to track down this man named Keery. His drug trafficking organization had a headquarters in France, disguised as a very large butcher warehouse." A look of realization dawned on Violet's face. "Keery died with many of his subordinates, but I seemed to have overlooked one."

"So the missing person you were talking about is the one you... forgot?"

"No, not exactly." He took a sip of his drink. The burn cleared his mind a little. "My life expectancy is, statistically speaking, low and..." James paused, realizing that he was talking more about himself than he normally would. It felt wrong.

"And...?"

"And it's the same for those close to me." It felt wrong, but he found it liberating at the same time.

"So something happened?" Violet's voice became soft.

"Yes." James rubbed his face with his hands, suddenly feeling a wave of exhaustion.

"So let me guess, the End Club is run by someone who wants to take revenge on you by taking this... person away? And now you need to find them?"

"Yes."

"...Normally I wouldn't do this, I still can't tell if you're lying or not, but let me take you back to my place. We can come up with a plan and get some rest..." James looked up at her incredulously. "What? I got this far - you're not getting rid of me until all this is over. Besides, I have my own bone to pick..."

-----

"- And that's the couch where you'll be sleeping. I'll be right back - I need to get you something to sleep in..." She disappeared into her room. After several minutes of muffled cussing and the sounds of things falling over, she came out. "I hope this is okay. It's all I got." She tossed a bundle of clothes at him. It was a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt.

"Thanks."

"No prob-" She was interrupted by a beeping noise at the door.

"Ms. Dunby, there's a parcel for you downstairs."

"Shit. Okay, I'll be back. I forgot that I had something coming." She hurried to put some shoes on and rushed out the door. At first, James thought nothing of it, but when he checked the time, realization dawned on him. It's almost two in the morning. Who would be getting a parcel at this time of the night?

Grabbing his gun, he ran out into the hallway and hopped three stairs at a time in the stairwell. Violet wasn't in the lobby. He hears a car door slam out on the street. He caught a glimpse of Violet's face pressed against the window of an expensive black car just as it drove away.

Without a second thought, he ran out into the street and, seeing Violet’s old camry, he punched the window to let himself in. After making quick work of hotwiring the vehicle, it came to life.

Tires screeching, he chased the black car through tight alleyways and around sharp turns, when suddenly they were on a main road with surprisingly little traffic.

He stepped on the gas.

In seconds he was within feet of the vehicle. The driver tried to swerve in an effort to out maneuver him, but James didn't have the energy for playing the race game.

In a burst of speed, he ran his car into the back of the black car - hard - and pushed it so it scrapped against the guardrails along the side of the road, sparks flying. They came to a bumpy stop when they plowed into a lamppost.

He clambered out as soon as he could, stumbling over a scrap of junk, and made his way - gun out - to the wrecked car. The driver seemed to be dead, but he couldn't-

"RAGHH!" A big figure slammed open the car door and leapt on him. He flew to the ground with what felt like a ton right on top of him. His gun spun away, leaving him defenseless. A fist slammed into his face. Not having a lot of room to move, James jabbed the man's neck as hard as he could. It gave him a few moments to get the man off of him and identify his attacker.

It, with some stroke of luck, was Stone. The very man he was looking for.

Stone got up, spat, and then threw himself into his stomach - forcing him back down to the ground. The two of them rolled around on the asphalt. One second his face was being ground into the road and another he'd be holding Stone in a choke hold.

"Where did you take them?" James growls, kneeing Stone in the gut.

"Who the fuck are you talking about?" Stone's big hand slammed James's face into the ground. His ears were ringing.

"(Y/N)!"

"Huh. You must be James Bond." Stone smiled, but it was wiped away with James's elbow. James managed to roll away and get back up.

"In the flesh."

"Well, I'm afraid to say that I won't tell you shit." Stone barreled into him again, but this time James was ready and managed to keep his feet grounded. He kneed Stone again and again - slowly letting his frustration loose.

"Then I'm afraid I'll have to make you." Stone's grip on him tightened as he knocked James's feet out.

"Not like this, you won't." After a couple hard punches, Stone gripped his neck. His hands scrambled, trying to get Stone off of him. He was beginning to see double. "I'm starting to feel sorry for ya." Stone laughed. "Don't worry - your partner is just fine. They're getting fed - but that was as of yesterday."

A shot rings out, the grip on his neck leaves, and Stone's shoulder is bleeding. But James doesn't notice.

All he can see is red.

What a big man. A scary looking man. He was the big scary looking man that took you. Where are you? Why won't Stone tell him where you are?

His fists are burning.

And then suddenly Stone is under him, saying something. He watches as his nose slowly crumples, as his teeth were turning red, as his eyes became glossy, as -

"James!" Hands are on his shoulder, nails digging in. He growls as his fist seamlessly gets ready to strike. A clammy hand wraps around his wrist. "JAMES!" Violet is looking at him with frantic eyes. "He's already dead, so stop it!" He looks back down. Stone's face was almost unrecognizable.

Had he done that?

-----

Whoops. Angsty Bond feels... Anyway, this is the first series I’ve written in a long while and the first I’ve ever written for Bond, so feel free to give me some feedback! Just be nice about it - I’m sensitive. Also! I'm in the middle of reading Layercake. When I’m done I’ll watch the movie - so look out for some headcanons on our nameless protagonist in the near future! If y’all have any ideas, feel free to send them my way!

- Simpy

#james bond x reader #james bond #x reader #agent 007 #007 #daniel craig #angst #series #fanfiction #fanfic #bond girl #established relationship #action #movie characters

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ilovebeingcalledawhore · 3 years

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BASKETBALL | CHENLE

Content: Fluff, Basketball Player Au, Athlete Au, Highschool Au, Suggestive Content

Summary: Just moments with the man you’re in love with.

IMAGINE

Chenle loved playing basketball, mostly because he was good at it. He’s part of the varsity team in my school and everyone would easily understand why he got the spot out of 200 other students. After convincing me to play with him with chocolate and ice cream I decided to finally agree.

You see, I’ve watched a ton of his basketball games and cheered him on with the cheesy posters he asked me to make, something he did just to make fun of me. When we hang-out, sooner or later you would expect a basketball game coming up on the TV. After dating Chenle, I went from knowing one or two things about basketball to shouting at the screen when a player misses a free throw.

I’m not complaining though, I enjoyed the way we bonded over something he loved. Something that was his passion next to music, which I didn’t know about until six months into the relationship. We always focused on what I liked, what I wanted and I can see how much he wants me to be spoiled with attention and gifts but I wanted to give back as well.

So here I stand in the middle of the empty gym, seven at night wondering when my boyfriend would run out of energy. “Ok so you go like this” he stands beside me and does the action on how to shoot the ball. I slowly copy him making sure that I don’t drop the ball accidentally.

“Now jump and throw, focus on the net!” He reminds me before I did my first try, the ball flew up and landed on the rim, it circled around quite a few times and as it did, I wondered whether it would fall in or out.

Thud! The ball fell in. “Ah!” Me and Chenle screamed in excitement, lady of luck was truly by my side today. He engulfed me in his arms, lifting my legs up the air and wrapping it around his waist. “You’re amazing!” he compliments, giving me a loving peck on the nose.

Butterflies.

“Put me down” I whined even when bits of me wanted to stay. He pouts and I grin, cupping his face and kissing him. He melts into it, his lips molding with mine like it belonged there.

Well...it did.

The boy finally puts me down with an evident smile on his face. “Now let’s play!” he runs to the ball that rolled away.

-----

“Did you have fun?” Chenle asks as he sits on the driver’s seat, shutting his side’s door. “Yeah” I replied as I looked at the time on my phone. It was already nine in the evening and I was tired. He noticed that with the way I replied.

He connects his phone to the plug in his car and starts to search through his playlist. He bites his lip as if this was the most important decision he’s making today. I rolled my eyes and grinned tiredly.

“Ah! Here we go” he mutters as he presses on a random song that I wasn’t able to read.

As the first second of the song played, I felt my heart softening. It was the song we slow-danced to a few years ago, who would’ve thought that I was gonna be with him now.

“Don’t you tell me that it wasn’t meant to be” he sings along, making sure to look me in the eye. “Call it quits, call it destiny” I sing along and we chuckle. He places his head on my shoulder, taking my hand and intertwining our fingers together.

“Just because it won’t come easily, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try”

I shut my eyes, falling asleep.

---

“Y/n” he says my name with his lips dangerously close to my ear. “What?” I muttered continuing to read through the doc my professor sent. “I think you’re cute, will you go out with me?” he asks and I feel a grin coming up my lips but I fight it off.

“I’m sorry, I have a boyfriend” I rejected and I felt him pout. “But I’m better than him!” he whines and I try to hold in my laugh.

“I’m smart”

“He’s smarter”

“I’m funny”

“He’s funnier”

“I’m handsome”

“He’s more good-looking”

“What else?” he asks with a grin and I laugh.

“He plays basketball”

Chenle laughs happily and wraps me around his arms. “What can your boyfriend not do?” he asks and I turn my head to face him, the puppy eyes he gave softened my heart.

“He can’t sleep without me saying, I love you”

The boy snuggles into my neck and I turn my head away to continue reading the doc. He rubs on my waist lovingly, humming against my skin. “Your boyfriend seems cool” he compliments himself and I laugh.

“He really is” I agree and we both laugh together.

____

“Let’s go Chenle!” I screamed as he dribbled the ball into their court. He steps to the side avoiding the other team and shoots it, his form looking perfect. The crowd screams once more knowing that we’ve won already.

It’s cringey how people talk about everything going in slow motion when they make eye-contact with their partner but that shit’s real. It felt like time stopped and my heart beat fastened to the beat of the ball hitting the gym floor.

It was less than a minute before Chenle easily stole the ball from the opponent and gracefully avoided the rest of them, he found himself stuck in between tall players so he decided not to shoot but instead to pass to another great player, Mark Lee.

The boy across him catches it with ease and takes a step back, bending his legs and fixing his form. He shoots the ball into the hoop but it misses by an inch. The crowd groans but there was still a 25 score gap between each team, us winning.

The sound of the whistle going off and the cheerleaders running in the middle to perform in the half-time gave an ease to my mind, he can at least rest till the fourth quarter because his coach doesn’t want him to get worn out by the third quarter.

He sits on the bench in front of me. I reached my hand out and gave him a light massage, hoping to comfort his tired body. “You’re doing so good” I reminded him and I watched as he nodded.

“It’s ‘cause you’re watching” He turns his head and gives me a grin, making me grin back. “Don’t want to disappoint my princess do I?” He asks and I scoff playfully, hiding a smile beneath a pout.

“I swear, we win every single time I watch your games” I reminded him with pride in my voice and we chuckle together. “You’re my goodluck charm, I need you everywhere I go” he says playfully but deep down the boy meant it, you knew he did and you felt the exact same way.

——

“Who was that?” I asked calmly but if you stared at my face hard enough, you’d see the crease between my brow and a forming frown on my lips. Some cheerleader walked up to him and started talking but that itself was nothing to me. What mattered was how she stealthily turned her back towards me and tried to hold Chenle’s hand, the only way I found out was when Mina, my friend, passed by and told me in a whisper, making sure to speedily walk away.

“That was Yuna, rumor says she’s interested” he replies, placing his hands behind his neck, stretching his arms and back. “Ok” I try to brush it off so I look down and continue scrolling through my feed. I feel Chenle’s gaze on me, I feel the way he’s trying to figure out if I was actually fine with it or if I was hating it. With my peripheral vision, I watch as his hands crawl up my thigh, rubbing on the covered skin as a sign of comfort.

“Hey” he speaks but I don’t look at him. I do raise my brow as a sign of acknowledgement. “Hey,” he says again, I hum as a reply. “Hey” he calls out and as I let out a defeated sigh, I turn my head towards him.

“Don’t overthink it, she’s nothing.” There was a brief moment of me searching his eyes for a sign of fear, for a sign of doubt. I stopped because it felt wrong to think that, to think that someone who never failed to stay by my side would even cheat; so this time I nod, facing the flashing device once more.

_____

Chenle pushes me down the bed, ignoring the fact that I hadn’t changed into comfortable clothes. Leaning closer, he leaves pecks on my cheek, my jaw, then down my neck, nipping on the skin to leave love bites.

“Is he trying to make up for what happened?” I thought to myself but before I could process anything further, he gently grabs my chin and turns my head to face him, pressing his soft lips against mine.

I muffle a moan as his hands crawl down to my neck, wrapping his fingers around that part with his cold metal rings sending internal shivers down my body. The rest was a blur but all I knew was that I fell asleep right after.

___

92-89

The crowd screams as the ball enters the hoop the last few seconds. “We won again!” I yelped excitedly, jumping up and down my spot. “Congratulations to Seoul University for getting into the nationals, we’ll see you soon” The announcer officially ends the game and with excitement in my eyes, I shove my things down the seat and I run down the steps to the court.

“You did it!” I screamed, opening my arms wide, mirroring Chenle’s movement. He pulls me off the floor and wraps my legs around his waist like he normally does. Instead of us screaming together, he leans forward and with a smile on his lips, he kisses me.

It was gentle and slow, it felt right. The crowd turns silent and murmurs of awe echo through the gym. Slowly I pulled away but we never broke eye-contact, instead I stayed there telling him how much I love him without needing words.

5 more months and he’s leaving.

____

He intertwined our fingers together, leaving a soft peck on my knuckles. “I’ll see you soon alright?” he whispers, one enough to shatter my already broken heart more. “Okay” I reply, trying to swallow the sobs and the voice crack.

“I love you” he whispers, “I need you, I want you” he reminds me and I feel the motor on my chest fastening. “Fuck I can’t do this” I let go of his hands and look away, the view of the Incheon Airport exit before my eyes.

He walks closer to me and wraps his arms around my body just like the way he does to catch me off guard. “No” I croak as I feel a single tear slip down my cheek. Chenle gulps frustratedly but he didn’t stop holding me.

“I’ll see you soon” he says and I nod, convincing myself that it was alright.

He gently turns my body to face him and when our eyes met, I swear if I stared harder, I’d drown in his tears. “I love you so much” I cry against his chest and I feel him shaking into the hug.

“Y/n, you’re all I need and nothing else, so don’t worry,” he sobs. “and just in case you forgot, I am never not thinking of you and it’ll stay that way, you’ll be my inspiration for university and when it’s time, we’ll live in a house far far away, just like you wanted. Trust me on this one alright?”

“Flight 307 to New York, now boarding, please enter gate 14”

I nod into his chest once more, trying to remember his scent even in the million times I’ve smelled it. “We’ll get there,” he kisses me. “You promise?” I ask and he smiles.

“I promise”

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annethepancake · 3 years

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Sherlock rant

I recently rewatched BBC Sherlock for Rupert Graves, and aside from the lack of Lestrade appreciation I have a lot of problems with this series. Here are my thoughts:

1. It was all a blur

My second first impression of the show: I don't remember anything but the characters. And some characters I just blatantly forgot, like Mary. And I loved Mary on my second watch! I really forgot that at one point John actually got married and I don't even remember when I watched the show for the first time. I can still recall most of HIMYM's events and I hated that series.

2. It’s overall not a detective/crime show

Watching Sherlock for the second time, I mostly turned off my brain and just let it play in the background because (1) there's hardly anything for me to solve with the characters, most clues are taken by Sherlock off-screen anyway (especially after season 2), (2) they focus way too much on the quirks of the characters that make it almost like a sitcom that got dragged on for way too long. A crime/detective show shouldn't allow me to turn off my brain.

3. The characters just kinda fall flat

Exploring the depth of human emotions is not a bad approach to a modernized version of anything, I’m not trying to pretend I’m better than someone who gets sentimental over fictional character (if you know my blog at all, you know I am not), but at least write good characters. Sherlock is hardly a multi-faceted person; in fact, he’s kinda like the Wattpad teen fic main character sometimes. He physically fights off some terrorists with a machete to save the damsel in distress? He gets high off his tits but still got everything right all the time? John is just kinda there for most of the cases. Jim is a poorly written antagonist. Irene is a lesbian but gets the hot for our main character, surprise surprise. The only interesting characters to me are the ones who act like normal people: Molly, Greg and Mary. They are the multi-faceted characters, ones who I can actually relate to without feeling inferior to them in any way. Write characters like them, stop trying to be smart about it and stop writing Wattpad fanfictions for Sir Conan Doyle’s original works.

I get that they try to make Sherlock more like a human with emotions, making him quirky and arrogant, then make him quirky and more likable. It’s hardly a convincing character development though. He’s given over-powered deduction skills, so edgy, so high and mighty all the time. When he is finally written as vulnerable, turns out he has plans for that too. I would love to see him get it wrong once and maybe get humbled by that mistake, but getting Mary shot and killed is hardly even his fault, he is only doing his job. And killing off Mary is overall a bad idea anyway.

4. They treated the fandom like shit

I was absolutely disgusted at the start of season 3 when the showrunners just straight up shat on their fans. I wasn't there with the fandom during the wait between season 2 and 3, but I believe it was a pretty long wait (2 years, I could barely wait 2 years for my comfort series, and they have like 10 episodes per season), and they were presented with the first actual mystery of the series: How did Sherlock survive the fall? After years of waiting and having fun theorizing, they were met with a mockumentary about them, starring the most hated character of the protagonist and the fans. Those are the people who actually cared about the show for god's sake. The fact that the showrunners treated fans like crap and there's still an active fandom for the show appalled me.

Now not only The Empty Hearse bugs me, but the entire show does as well.

Allow me to digress.

Doki Doki Literature Club is a great example of audience engagement done right (Sorry for using this example I’m not actually that invested in the other franchises). After the success of the first game, the story provoked so many fans into solving the mysteries of the characters, some of them went really, really far. And that’s because of the actual mysteries that the development team took effort to plant into the plot. There is actual pay-off for painstakingly following the clues; as far as I know, only two (2!) people in the world have come close to solving the mystery of the first game (or they actually did). The game developers value their fans and their intelligence enough to have planted those clues where they did, and it’s a genuine exchange between the fans and the creators. Now even though you haven’t actually played the game, when you hear of the name and you’re only kinda familiar with gaming (like me), you’ll probably know what it is. What started as a mere open-source game by an indie developer became a sensation which left millions of fans begging for more.

Looking back at Sherlock, there are tons of logical flaws for a self-proclaimed crime series, virtually no clues for the audience to solve crimes along with their favorite detective, and when there was actually a mystery (Sherlock jumped off the building), they plainly showed him alive and well minutes later. Do we really need to see things spelled on screen to know what’s going on? Are we supposed to accept that Sherlock Holmes is an all-knowing future-predicting genius now too? Not a great sign of respecting the audience there.

So far, the only thing left that’s interesting about this series is the characters’ dynamic. Which brings me to the next criticism I have for the show.

5. The plague that infested mainstream media

Why is there still an active fandom? Queerbaiting and targeted marketing.

Community marketing is proven to be one of the best marketing methods there is, if not the best, to lengthen the lifespan of a product or service. The way they do that for shows and films and video games is usually by planting seeds of possible lores and history inside the content. Look at Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings, they are franchises that ran for multiple years with a ton of history and world building that provokes fans’ imagination.

Sherlock - well, Sherlock has sexually ambiguous men.

Sherlock has a formula for success. It was an adaptation of the most iconic detective novel in the world, funded by one of the biggest TV networks in the UK and possibly the world (don’t quote me on this). Making this series means you can appeal to such a wide group of audience even before airing. Adding in the quirky smart men who live together, you’ve basically guaranteed a prime-time show with millions of loyal fans all over the world.

Fans are not stupid, and queer people don't just find queerness everywhere they go. They know a gay subtext when they see one. Sherlock came back from the literal death for John, pretty gay if you ask me.

This show is very much not just about some guys being dudes solving crimes, they have relationship that’s deeper than friendship, and definitely not platonic. They deliberately wrote a sexually ambiguous Sherlock Holmes from the get-go - literally from the very first episode, then capitalized off of the targeted demographic, never a pay-off for their anticipation. Martin Freeman said in interviews that he could recognize Sherlock fans, them being generally women from 16 - 25. No shit Sherlock, this show targets them and capitalizes off of them, being quirky and gay as hell, of course the fanbase is generally 16 - 25 and female.

Sherlock queerbaited the fandom for years for the sake of marketing and there’s never a pay-off, nor was there any recognition to the community, and to add to all that bigotry, queercoding pretty much all of the villains? Why was a show aired in the 2010′s allowed to do this? Why did Mark Gatiss, an openly gay man, a writer of the show, allow this to happen? Why are millions of fans all over the world allowing all this to go on?!

6. Conclusion

Now I haven’t read the books yet, so I’m not at all qualified to criticize the adaptation quality of the TV series; I’m just talking about the TV series on its own. Despite my criticism, I think the first two seasons did quite okay. There are quite a few nice cases there, I like The Blind Banker and The Hound of Baskerville. They did those well because the focus was on the cases themselves, and the connection between John and Sherlock was only in the background. I, like many other fans, like to figure things out on my own, to read between the lines, and to not have things spelled out for me. With the next seasons bombarded with Sherlock and John bonding it seriously felt like mere fan service for me and even though I wasn’t there when the show was on, I still felt like I was robbed and my interest in the show was abused.

Sherlock is undoubtedly super influential in pop culture even now. It has to have done something right to be in that spot (capitalizing off loyal fans?). I’m not writing this rant to change someone’s mind about the series, by all means, I’m still gonna love the hell out of Gavin Lestrade, and absolutely lose my mind over Mary Watson. So do take my words with a grain of salt, I’m just disappointed that one of the most influential shows there is is just short of my expectations.

#sherlock #bbc sherlock #rant #criticism

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smol-and-grumpy · 4 years

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Something Just Like This - CH37

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester, mobster boss. He’s a little cocky, a lot ruthless and more often than not, short tempered. But he’s also, Dean Winchester, a war veteran and hero who suffers under a shit ton of PTS. He met her in a bar and thinks it’s fate that brought her to him. Little does he know why she’s really here.

Warnings: NSFW, relationship fluff, sprinkle of angst

WC: 4982

A/N: SURPRISE SURPRISE! Happy Sunday, I guess. Hope you enjoy! Only two more chapters to go. I’m so not ready for this to end...

SERIES MASTERLIST

It has been a month! A freaking month and the cast is annoying her to death!

Y/N’s pacing around the apartment. She can be glad the apartment is so big that it takes her a couple of minutes to get from one end to the other because she’s also awfully slow with her crutch. She wants to go out, walk around and Dean promised to come with her but he’s busy on his laptop. She didn’t ask what he does, sure, she could take a peek because he’s just sitting on the sofa but she doesn’t want to intrude also because she’d hate it if he would look over her shoulder whenever she does anything. They both know their boundaries and that’s really great and all but she’s slowly growing antsy.

“Will you please fucking stop?” He groans out.

“I’m bored.”

“Ya think? Go be bored elsewhere! I would be done already if you wouldn’t fucking distract me all the time!” Dean gets up, sweeps her off her feet and carries her to her art room. “Here, paint.”

“I don’t know what I should paint!”

It’s his turn to groan out in frustration, “A fucking pig, I don’t know, just give me ten minutes!”

“But—”

Dean cradles her face, makes her look up at him. “Baby, I swear, I love you but your restlessness is driving me fucking nuts. I promised and I’ll come out with you but give me that, okay? Ten minutes is all I ask for. You’ll thank me later.”

She pouts and frowns, he kisses the pout away. “Thank you for what?”

“You’ll see.” He winks and closes the door to the room, leaving her to stew.

Dean comes in a fucking thirty minutes later.

She’s sitting on a stool and continues to paint, ignoring him deliberately.

He stands here, back leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “What’s that?”

She’s not even close to finish painting the first layer and tilts her head back to him, looking at him grumpily. “A fucking pig.”

Dean laughs, and she tries to hide the grin on her face.

“You’re something else, you know that, right?” He comes closer, placing his hands on her shoulder, kneading lightly and she looks up, sees him upside down. He bends over her, kisses her nose. “Come on or we’ll be late.”

“Late for what?” She asks and Dean’s already taking off a shirt of his that she usually uses to paint in.

“Come on,” He takes the crutch, holds it out for her and helps her out of the room.

They drive to a place Y/N’s pretty familiar with and her heart starts to thump in her chest. Her face flares up, she can feel it.

Dean parks and helps her get out. They walk into the big open space and she can’t help but ask, “What are we doing here?”

They’re in the dog park. The one where Y/N used to meet with Linda.

“We’re meeting someone.” Dean says and adapts his pace to her slow one.

In the distance, she sees a woman waving at them and all of a sudden, she feels nauseous, cold sweat starts to bead on her forehead.

Linda.

She looks at Dean and he’s actually smiling. “How? Why?”

Dean looks down at her, one arm sneaks around her waist. “Baby, I know more about you than you think. In fact, I think I might know you better than I know myself.”

She frowns at that and Dean’s thumb comes up to stroke over the crease between her eyebrows.

He goes on, “The things you told me since you’re back? I knew about them already, I just wanted to hear it out of your mouth to make sure that people were telling me the truth. Linda was one of them. She contacted me about eight months after you left, asking me if I know where you were. Lady thought I killed you off at first, wanted to, and I quote, ‘Tear my balls off with her own two hands’ if something happened to you and I was the reason for it.”

Y/N has to laugh at that because yeah, that sounds like Linda.

“I told her that if someone should know where you are, then it’s her and not me. Linda then said that she quit the Bureau because she had a hard time living with the guilt of sending you away, and after six months, she was allowed to finally be free, that’s why she couldn’t get in contact sooner. She suggested that we meet and she chose a bar we could meet at where she knows no Feds would be around. We kinda bonded over a couple of gins.”

“You don’t even like gin.” She cringes her nose because she doesn’t like it either but Linda loves it.

“But I like you and Linda is kind of a scary woman, to be honest. I was nervous as hell. And I found out that she’s basically the only one person you have left in the world who’s close to you. So, after I got you here and was sure that you’d stay, I contacted her. But she was off on vacation and just got back today. I want you two to get along again.”

She has tears in her eyes and he brushes them away with his thumbs. “Thank you.”

“Told ya you’d be thanking me later. Now go on, I’ll just wait here.”

“You don’t wanna come?”

He looks over to Linda who’s still far away and Y/N can see that the lady has a stern expression on her face. It’s really just Linda’s resting bitch face that she’s used to. “Uh… I’m kinda intimidated. I’ll wait here and join you later when she doesn’t look as mad as she does right now.”

“Coward.” Y/N mutters under her breath.

“Hey,” Dean frowns, “Whatever. Just, don’t tell her that I absolutely can’t stand gin, okay?”

She laughs and Dean let’s her walk to meet Linda.

After the first couple of minutes with Linda the tension starts to drain from her body. She realizes that she missed that woman so much, is thankful that Dean arranged it.

“You gave me the wrong information,” Lisa says with a frown and she realizes that it’s to throw her off, because then the woman’s expression turns into a little smirk.

“I’m sorry,” Honestly, she doesn’t know what else she can say to that.

“It’s water under the bridge.” Linda huffs out a breath, “Well they were furious that they didn’t catch Dean. And there’s no trace whatsoever that led to him. But I know why you did it. I’ve been in your shoes.”

“You once told me that it’s either them or him and I wanted him.” She mutters, looks down to her hands that are resting in her lap.

“I know,” Linda places one of her hands on top of hers, “You can be glad you were out at the time, they raised hell after to find you but you were hiding well. You were always so thorough. Your dad was the same.”

“I take it as a compliment.” She smiles, and her heart blooms. It’s good to know that everything’s over. Good to know that nothing can stop her from being with Dean anymore.

Y/N parts with Linda with a clear conscience and a heavy heart. Linda still lives too far away to visit on a regular basis but she’s determined to visit once the cast is off. Linda has gotten herself a dog too, and Y/N can see that Linda’s much more relaxed than she used to be. It must be the weight of working in the Bureau that’s been lifted off her shoulders. Maybe the weight of not chasing after a ghost of a man that is her father, and being out for vendetta too. At least that’s the case for Y/N.

In the car on their way back, Dean takes her hand, places it to his lips, pecking the back of it. She can feel his beard tickling her. That’s right, Dean’s grown out his scruff because she told him that she likes it a little more beardy. He laughed at first but he starts to like how she scratches at his beard whenever they kiss.

“What did Linda say at the end?” Dean asks because Linda had pulled her to the side before she got in.

She shrugs, “That I should blink twice if this is a hostage situation.”

Dean frowns and looks at her, one of his eyebrows is raised. His lips are purses, the dimples of discontent showing. She loves the look on him.

She can still hear Linda talking to her: “You know, when a man truly loves a woman, she becomes his weakness. That’s why we were so scared for your well being because we knew that he loved you. We never knew that it was the other way around, too, though. I guess when a woman truly loves a man, he becomes her strength and that’s what I observed in your behavior but I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to see that it was because you fell for him. That your independence and rebellious behavior was, because he gave you strength to stand up and throw all the things you have worked so hard for overboard. He’s a good one, Y/N. I just tune out the life he had before but I can see how much he cares for you. Keep him, alright? And should he hurt you, let me know. I can make it look like an accident.”

“No, really, what did she say?” Dean asks again.

Y/N grins at him, “She said that if you hurt me she can make it look like an accident.”

“She doesn’t have to,” Dean looks at her with a sad expression on his face, “I could never hurt you. At least not deliberately.”

“I know. It’s just me who hurt you.”

“And that’s okay. We’ve been through this.”

She sighs, looks out of the window because she doesn’t want him to see the tears in her eyes. She wants to tell him that it’s actually not o-fucking-kay. But every time she tries to say how sorry she really is, he always says that it doesn’t matter since she’s here now. She really doesn’t know how she deserves someone like Dean.

***

Dean’s phone rings as they get back to the apartment and she walks to the couch, drops herself down and cozies up next to Bubbles on the blanket.

“Oh shit, yeah.” He says, “Of course I’ll take her with me, if that’s cool with you guys.” And then later, “I’m sorry I was a little busy but yeah, put her down.”

Y/N sees Dean looking over at her and she opens her mouth to talk but he holds out his hand with his index finger raised.

“Yeah, thanks. Cool. I’ll see you later.” Dean hangs up and walks over to her, drops his body next to her and lifts her legs, drapes them over his thighs.

“Where do I have to go with you?”

“A wedding.”

“But—”

“—No but,” Dean says, his hands rubbing at her legs. “I forgot to tell you. Cas is getting married.”

“Wow, that’s awesome. I hope it’s still Anna?”

Dean chuckles, “Yeah, the wedding’s in two weeks. You think you’ll be up to it? I mean, I kinda have to go since I’m his best man and it would be super awesome if you would come with me.”

“Don’t they all hate me?” And that’s really her only concern. What if they really do hate her because she hurt Dean?

“Nobody hates you. I never said a bad word, honestly. Told them that you probably had a reason for leaving and let’s be real, if someone should hold a grudge it’s me and not them.” He pulls her close by her arm, let her rest her head on his chest and she can hear his heartbeat.

“It’ll be only a little more than a week after the cast will be off. I can’t wear heels.” She says, knows that it’s a stupid excuse.

“You’ll be fine in flats. A little short, but perfectly fine.” He’s smirking a little and she punches his chest.

“I don’t have a dress fit for a wedding.” She’s pouting now and sees him licking his lips. Apparently, it still does things to him.

“I think the glitter tube dress would be alright.” Dean tries his best not to laugh and she punches his chest again. “It’s alright,” He then says, “I’ll buy you one.”

“You want me there.”

“One thousand percent sure that I absolutely do.”

“I’ve never been to a wedding before.”

“Two people saying I do. There’s a lot of food and booze, you’ll manage. Gabe will be there. Sam and Jess. So at least you’ll know someone.”

“Are you saying this because you won’t have time for me?” She raises an eyebrow in question.

He exhales and it’s like he really tries to explain it so she would understand. “I can’t be with you all the time, yes. But I really want you there and Cas too, actually.” Dean tries to pout, “Please?”

She has to laugh, “You look ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous? It usually works when you pout at me.” Dean tickles her, and she almost falls out of the couch from laughing.

He wrestles her around, lays her down on the couch and tickles her some more and she has a hard time catching a breath.

“Okay, okay!” She shouts, still laughing, tears accumulating in the corner of her eyes. “I’ll come. Just stop!”

And he does, a smile on his face as he hovers above her. He inches closer, their noses almost touch.

Dean looks her in the eye. His are still the greenest of green, his freckles standing out, she forgot how much she loves them. “You’re really here.” He whispers, as if he still doesn’t believe it.

“I am.” Her hands come up, winds one around his neck, fingers playing with the short hair at the nape of his neck while she trails the fingers of the other hand over his brow and down his cheek, feels the deep crease of the crinkles around his eyes.

“And you’re staying.”

“Yes.” She nods, “For as long as you want me to.”

“Forever.”

That’s fine by her too.

Dean kisses her then and she closes her eyes, feels tears running down the side of her face.

***

The next day, Dean wraps her legs up thickly, because he wants to take a bath and apparently, taking a bath on his own isn’t really his thing so she has to go in with him, even though he let someone come around to install a shower bench and with that, she can even take a shower on her own.

Y/N’s in the warm water with him, her head on his chest and his hand on her stomach, just holding her.

“Why do you think a bath isn’t something to be indulged alone?”

“I’m a man.” Dean answers simply.

“So?”

“You know, men should like fast cars, beers, sports… not baths!”

She has to laugh. “You never took one on your own?”

“No, too many memories.” He says, and then adds, “And don’t you dare say that you’re sorry!”

“Okay,” Her voice is low, she lays her hand over his that is resting on her stomach. “So, uh, I was wondering, will you give me a grand tour of the house?”

“You wanna see?”

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

“It’s not finished.” Dean scoops a handful of warm water, drips it down her shoulder so she will stay warm.

“I don’t mind.”

Dean kisses the back of her head. “Okay, but first the cast must go off.”

Dean had wrapped her up after the bath and helped her into the bedroom, while he stayed behind to clean the tub.

When he walks back out again, she’s propped up on the bed, her back against the headboard, her legs spread wide and she rubs herself there.

Dean’s taken aback, was not prepared to walk into this and he can’t lie, the sight does things to him.

And fuck, he really did try to be good for five weeks, didn’t he? Would it be so bad if he gave in? Because she sure as hell wants it too and her little teases all those weeks didn’t go unnoticed. He was the adult here though, averted her advances, told her that she has to get better first, and it’s been hard, alright. Quite literally. He’s been fucking hard for five freaking weeks.

“Baby, what are you doing” His voice comes out strained, he doesn’t even recognize it himself anymore.

“Duh,” She grins and threads her fingers through her slick, “What does it look like?”

Dean’s missed this. Miss the bratty attitude of hers. She must be off her period already, because last week she didn’t tease him at all, instead she said that she was on her period while emptying a container of ice cream on her own. She even sent him out to buy a new one because she couldn’t move from the couch with her stomach cramps, and while he’s at it, he should get her a pack of tampons. Dean remembers it faintly, and was embarrassed about it because who knew that women need so many different brands of sanitary pads and tampons. He didn’t know which ones to get so he filled his cart. At least now she’ll have enough to last her a lifetime.

He can’t stop staring now, can’t stop watching her rubbing at herself. The sound of her wet pussy is loud because she’s so soaked already. He loves that, loves how wet she gets and almost forgot how good it feels.

Trying to ignore her, he walks to his dresser. “Keep doing that if you wanna get fucked, just saying.”

She watches him, her head thrown back, her bottom lips between her teeth, “Duh, that’s the whole plan.”

Dean turns around, balls his fists and rest them on the side of his body, his erection is very much prominent underneath the towel, he knows that. “Baby, I’ll hurt you. There’s only a week and two days left until you can take it off.”

She shrugs, “You can’t hurt me more than I hurt you.”

And while that might be true, Dean still doesn’t really want her doing stupid things that will make her end up being in the cast longer than they both want her to be. Also, she’s mentioning the big elephant that’s always going to be present in the room with them. How much she hurt him. Even though he never wants to talk about it but she’s still so guilty and he doesn’t want that. She’s here now. That’s all that really matters to him.

“Please?” She says and fucking pouts, knows full well what effect it has on him and it’s not really fucking fair because she doesn’t even leave him a chance to say no.

Her fingers dip inside of her, and she can’t really work her hips against it because of her cast, “I can’t do it on my own.”

He doesn’t know what to say, it’s like the blood in his brain travels down to where his other brain is located. One that he hasn’t used in so long he doesn’t even know if he still knows how it works. Plus, he thinks, he might be drooling.

“Y-y-you sure?” Since when does he stutter? Dean swallows hard and she nods.

God dammit.

His walls are crumbling, teared down by one simple nod.

Dean’s hands are on his towel, couldn’t pull it down fast enough to climb onto the bed. She’s grinning like a fucking winner. He hates it. Wants to kiss it away.

He gets closer, bats her hand away from her dripping cunt and she fucking giggles. From this distance, Dean can literally smell her. He drools some more, swallows the excess saliva down loudly. Taking her hand that he batted away, he licks at her fingers, moaning as he tastes her on them. It has been way too fucking long.

Y/N bites her lips, her cheeks are bright pink. He lowers himself, shoulders between her legs, hooks his arms around her thighs and pulls her lower and towards him. She lets out a shriek of laughter.

Dean’s now only a couple of inches away from her as he looks up again, “You really want this?” He raises an eyebrow in question and sees her rolling her eyes.

“Just fucking do it! Please?”

Well, at least she has manners.

“So fucking bratty,” He mumbles, and indulges himself, licks a stripe up her core with his wide tongue, hears her moan above him and smiles into her pussy.

Her hands found his head, stroking and crawling his hair and his scalp. He likes that, likes how she strokes him while he goes down on her.

Dean sucks at her nub, nibbles lightly along her folds. He looks up to see her playing with her tits one handed and one of his hands go up, bats that hand away too before he twists at the nipple, rolls it between his fingers before he kneads her tits. He’s missed that too, a good handful, feels like it was made to fit into the palm of his hand.

His other hand toys at her entrance, dipping in only to his first knuckle and Dean has to groan out, hums against her clit at the feeling of being inside of her.

“More, please,” She keens above him, tries to wriggle with her hips.

Dean closes his eyes, works his finger deeper in while sucking at her clit. He really has to concentrate on not coming because everything feels so fucking good right now. She’s still so fucking tight and he’s only in with one fucking finger.

“More, Dean, more!”

She’s basically fucking into his face. Needy little thing.

He eases another finger in alongside the first one, and has to hold his breath for a moment. He hums out against her clit, sucks it in before he breathes hot air against her core.

“Oh god,” She moans, her hand grips his hair.

He has to chuckle, even though his mouth is still full of her. Curving his fingers, he rubs on the inside, and she clenches around him, so fucking close already.

Flicking his tongue around her clit, he sucks it in and lets it out with a lewd pop, sucks it in again, shakes his head from side to side and hums while she says something above him but he doesn’t know what it is, can’t understand a word she says.

“Oh fuck! Shit, fffff—”

Dean looks up in time to see her come, his fingers are drenched and there’s the sloshing sound as he fucks in and out lazily, his chin is dripping wet. He places kitten licks on her clit, her legs shake because she’s too sensitive.

He smiles when she comes down from her high and looks down to him. Climbing up her body, he places little kisses on her stomach along the way, pauses longer at her tits, kisses and sucks at her nipples and she arches her back, pushes her chest into his face.

Jesus, he really did miss all of this.

Placing kisses along her throat, he works his way up to her face, kisses her chin, her lips, and she opens for his tongue. Her hands are on his shoulder and in his beard, stroking and scratching.

He parts when he needs to breathe. “How do you think you taste?”

She smiles shyly, “Sweet.”

Dean grins and pecks her lips, “Sweetest fucking pussy. Could eat you for days.”

He knows he already said that before but it’s the truth.

“Now fuck me,” She breathes out and Dean’s heart nearly stops. “Please?”

“Christ, how did you get so fucking bratty?” He grins but adds with his next breath, “Baby, you really sure? I really don’t have t—”

“Please?” Her one good leg goes around his back, pulls him closer, and his dick is so close to her pussy that’s so soaked he almost slips in. “I need it.”

How could he say no to that? It’s even harder when she sucks on his tongue, making him forget his own goddamn name.

“Okay bu—”

“—Yeah, yeah, I know, not hard or fast.”

Dean’s jaw drops.

This fucking girl.

He kisses her again, hard. Hopes her lips fucking bruises because she’s a fucking pain in his ass with her bratty behavior and pushes himself away, couldn’t go past her nipples without sucking them in on his way.

Kneeling between her thighs he grabs them, positions her so that his dick is basically resting on the rim of her entrance. He grips the head, “Still time to back out.”

“I want it in, not out.” She says with a pout.

That fucking pout.

Dean eases his way in then, inch by inch, feels her walls hugging him tight and he pauses mid lengths, needing time to breathe it out. “Fuck,”

She wriggles her hips and her hands come down to her thighs, helps him by holding them spread. “Dean,”

“I got you, baby,” He says but he doesn’t know if it’s the truth, he’s so close to losing it and he isn’t even in yet. “So fucking tight.” He grits his teeth at the pressure when he works in some more of him. “Jesus.”

At last he manages to bottom out, stills for a short while, looks down to see that her eyes are closed and she frowns. “How are you feeling?” He asks because he’s a little worried.

“Good,” Y/N breathes loudly through her mouth. “Full. So full. You’re so deep, oh my god.”

“Should I not go deep?” He seriously doesn’t know because she used to like it deep.

“No, no.” She says, opens her eyes and smiles, “It’s good. It hurts but a good kind of hurt. Move please.”

He nods, and begins to move his hips. Has a hard time not to go hard and fast but honestly, he wouldn’t know if he could last as long if he would go hard or fast. He has a hard time as it is.

Dean fucks into her, slow, deep.

His eyes widen when he sees her cupping her pussy with one hand and he almost chokes on his own saliva when he feels her working two fingers in alongside his cock.

“Jesus, baby,” He pants, “Fuck, does that feel good, huh?”

He can see that she works the heel of her hand against her clit, the stimulation of his thrust hits her where she wants it.

“Yeah, oh god, so good.”

“It feels incredible for me, too.” Dean breathes hard, she just got so much tighter and wetter.

It’s not long when she starts to tense and he feels her thighs shiver around him, the walls around his dick literally vibrates with how her muscle tightens.

She comes, her head thrown back, her eyes closed as she forms an ‘o’ with her lips.

Beautiful fucking sight.

It takes him only two thrust to reach her level as he bottoms out, his balls are pressed against her ass and he groans, a little louder than he normally would, as he spills his cum deep inside of her.

Dean collapses, still has enough functioning brain cells to brace himself on his elbow so as not to crush her. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, breathes in her scent. It’s intoxicating.

She takes her fingers out of herself and Dean helps by lifting himself a little. The loss of her additional two fingers isn’t a good feeling at all.

Her hands come up, her arms fly around his shoulder and she plays with the short hair at the back of his neck. He loves that.

They’re both still panting as he kisses her throat, her cheeks and finally her lips. His hands stroke back the hair that fell into her face. And he kisses her forehead, her nose, smiles back at her when he sees her smiling at him.

“You know,” He says, his nose rubbing against hers, “Some say that there are people who were made for each other and I think that it’s true. It’s like you were made to fit me.”

Y/N laughs at that, cranes her neck to steal a kiss, “That’s so cheesy.”

“Hey!” He grins, kisses her once more and it builds so fucking fast.

He just came but he just couldn’t stop himself from getting hard again. It’s like he wants to make up for lost time, at least his dick wants that. He’s still logged inside too, feels her walls hugging the thick of him as it gets bigger.

“Oh my god,” She bites her lips when she feels it too.

“My name’s Dean, not god.” He grins and starts to move his hips and this time, he stays down, has his elbows braced on either side of her face and kisses her as deep as he fucks her.

She hooks one leg behind him, rests it on the small of his back, her arms around his neck, nails clawing at the broad of his shoulders.

“You feel so good, baby.” He whispers, dark and low, he is out of breath.

Dean fucks her, deep and slow. Kisses her again, pours everything he has into the kiss. Things he shows but doesn’t say in the hopes that she gets him. A silent plea of I love you and Please never leave again because it will kill me.

CH38

#something just like this #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #nathalie writes

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itsbenedict · 3 years

Text

Two-Faced Jewel: Session 1-B

(Part B, for length- see Part A first.)

Zero and @eternalfarnham are Looseleaf and Saelhen du Fishercrown, a mothfolk animist and a half-elf conwoman whose travels take them to Blacksky University, where the discovery of an unknown magical artifact sets them on the path to discovering the secrets of a shattered world.

Saelhen du Fishercrown has just involuntarily bonded with a magical bracer under false pretenses. The deans of the School of Natural Arts and the School of Arcane Arts have reached a compromise- send Looseleaf (equipped with a wand of Locate Object) to keep an eye on her. None of this bodes well for her plan to skip town and pawn the thing- if she doesn't follow the magical arrow, it's going to be hard to explain.

So... she figures she might as well find out where it's pointing, and see if there's a way to remove it and/or shake her tail at the end.

Saelhen du Fishercrown:Saelhen is best served by seeming a bit silly, here. So I think she's going to follow the arrow directly and just straight-up cross over the fences. Looseleaf:Looseleaf fidgets a bit. "I mean, honor has to tarry for things like, classes, and stuff, occasionally, right?" "Not to mention, you still, like, need to do a whole interview." "And you can't just- like, at the least I'd want to get the campus news department involved, y'know, put this in the news and stuff, right?" Saelhen du Fishercrown:"I will be proud to answer any questions you have as we go, Madam Looseleaf." Saelhen approaches the campus fence and begins to struggle over it. Looseleaf:Looseleaf is only vaguely sure that this campus has anything like a newsletter, but something about this lady's insistency on walking off into the sunset as quickly as she can is making Looseleaf's antennae twitch, a little bit. "Uhhhhhh," Looseleaf says. "Okay, sure, then."

They take a pretty direct route to where the arrow's pointing. On the way, Looseleaf puts the screws to Saelhen by poking at her cover story.

Saelhen continues to roll crazy good on Deception, vs Looseleaf's History, and Looseleaf can't find any fault in Saelhen's staggeringly-detailed hand-calligraphied forgery.

Benedict I. (GM): So- it seems like this was written by someone who's at least read A Flawless History of the Elven Peoples cover to cover. There aren't any obvious contradictions, and a lot of supporting details- it's hard to believe someone could've just made all this up. Looseleaf: But, okay, wow, Looseleaf is... absolutely engrossed in this book. This is the good stuff. Benedict I. (GM): You're familiar enough with the vagaries of the biographical tradition that there could easily be creative reinterpretations or doctored facts in here, but you don't have any way to distinguish them from reality. Saelhen du Fishercrown: Saelhen keeps up a running commentary while they walk. Looseleaf: But presumably there is no mention of any kind of accession ritual? Saelhen du Fishercrown:Jack nothing! Looseleaf:And definitely nothing along the lines of a stone bracer being involved in some kind of ancestral spirit worship ritual.

Yeah, something's fishy here. But it's a long book, and it takes a long time to read, and before Looseleaf can get through it, the arrow starts to swerve.

The bracer seems to have lead them to Yoshimimoto Plaza, a wide pavilion in the middle of a ring of government buildings owned by the Oyashio Port Authority- the city's secular government. Saelhen recognizes the design as remarkably similar to the floor of the Ryokou Temple in Kanzentokai.

The Ryokou Temple, hundreds of years ago, was once a great hub of teleportation, where travelers from all over the world came and went. Thanks to teleportation magic, the concept of "cities" and "nations" and "regional governments" didn't make a lot of sense back then, and the world was something of a fragmentary monoculture featuring several different competing governments- distributed governments which claimed authority over their members, not over geographical territories.

(If you've read anything of the Terra Ignota series, they were basically like the hives.)

Two or three centuries ago, though, something called the Blackout occurred. Teleportation magic suddenly failed- planar travel broke, as did the teleportation hubs in each of the world's major cities. Suddenly, the world was shattered into geographically distant territories, which suddenly had to administer themselves without contact with the rest of the world. The world as it is today was shaped by the effects of this Blackout, and how people rebuilt.

Yoshimimoto Plaza, now an unremarkable empty square, used to be the city's teleportation hub.

Saelhen, following the arrow, touches the bracer to the center of this plaza, and all hell breaks loose.

The bricks underneath them all suddenly fall into a pit, landing about twenty feet down on a squishy surface that yields under the impact. Despite the cushioning, Saelhen takes 5 bludgeoning damage from the fall. (Looseleaf can feather-fall with her moth wings, so she's fine.)

So, what you've landed on... first and foremost, it smells. It smells of mildew and decay, of something sealed up and left to rot. The walls of the pit aren't dirt or stone- you're not sure what they are. They're gray-green and porous, interwoven with what might be vines. The floor has a ton of bricks on top of it, but where those bricks fell unevenly, you can see the floor is a mass of these squishy vines- or maybe tentacles, it's not entirely clear.

What's not fine is the old man who was feeding the pigeons on the plaza, who's broken his legs and is screaming for help. Also not fine are a couple of Oyashio Port Authority guards, who were chatting there and are now very perturbed.

Also not fine are the walls of this pit- they've got holes in them. Holes from which horrible little fleshy winged creatures are crawling:

These bloodsucking fiends claw their way out of the weird porous walls, and begin divebombing people with unholy shrieks.

The party rolls for initiative! Saelhen readies an action to intercept the enemy, and it's a good thing- she downs one of the stirges with a hidden blade when it gets close. (Looseleaf notes how suspicious it is that a noblewoman had a hidden blade up her sleeve.)

Looseleaf uses Rend Spirit on another one- a magical attack that uses animism as a blunt force weapon. The spirit of something is different from its soul- a living thing has a mind, but it also has a spirit, which is just sort of a semi-sentient magical handle on its body and the nature thereof. The spirit of something's muscles says "I want to expand and contract in response to nerve stimuli"- and Looseleaf can tell the muscles "No, you want to snfdkdfrksfjklafdr." The muscles' spirit gets real confused by this and tries to make its physical host do some snfdkdfrksfjklafdr, which makes no sense and results in chaotic flailing and tissue damage. Or, uh, "force damage", D&D's vaguest damage type.

She seizures the other stirge to death, but three more crawl their way out of the walls. Two go for the guards, who call for help and manage to take one down- but the third goes for the defenseless old man. Saelhen whiffs her thrown knife to intercept it, and the stirge buries its proboscis in the man's side and begins to drink.

Looseleaf: Holy shit, this woman is going to get people killed. Her nonsense- and probably confabulated- ancestral quest is going to get people killed.

Saelhen follows up by charging the stirge and slaying it- but four more stirges crawl out of the walls. There's no end to the damn things!

Looseleaf, who has wings, remembers them- and also remembers her starting gear! When do players ever do that? She gets out her 50 ft of rope and drops a rope ladder to help people escape.

The stirges are on the move, though- those not distracted by the guards go for Saelhen and Looseleaf. One of them gets through and impales Saelhen- who only had 6 hit points left after the fall damage, at level 1. It rolls well, and she goes down.

One of the guards grabs the old man and begins climbing out of the pit, just as reinforcements arrive with crossbows- but it's too late for Looseleaf, who gets herself divebombed by a stirge, which beats her AC and latches on. She tries to Rend Spirit it off her, but fails- and its next attack finishes her off. Meanwhile, Saelhen is still down in the pit being fed on, and rolls a critical failure on her first death save, counting as two failures! The party is completely KO'd by these horrible bloodsucking monsters they uncovered.

Luckily for them, they went down... in the middle of the administrative center of a highly populated city, surrounded by emergency services personnel who were actively trying to save them. As a result... they wake up in the hospital, not dead.

Looseleaf: "When the inquiries come in, I just want to make it clear, miss du Surplus," Looseleaf says in her hospital bed, "I do not know you and I do not know who you are and I am pretty sure that this is all your fault." Her antennae are swishing furiously, which is moth for 'fuck everything about this'. Saelhen du Fishercrown: "In my defense," says Saelhen, "I have no frigging idea why that bracelet summoned infinite bats, haha." "Ow."

It seems- from the chafing on her wrist- that someone tried to steal the bracer off her arm while she was unconscious, to no avail.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "If your university wants it back, you're maybe going to have to use a cleaver. Ha ha. You know, I've actually been to places where they chop off your hand for stealing." Looseleaf: "You better hope they don't decide to chop off your arm," apparently Looseleaf's got more of a vindictive bent to her than you'd expect! "You folk only have two arms." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Gonna be a super dishonorable wound." Looseleaf: "Yeah, we're dispensing with the whole, elegant elf politese thing entirely now, are we." "Not that it exactly made sense for a dignified hyper-polite elf to run around with a dozen daggers tied to them under the robes." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "For what it's worth, if you weren't dogging me so closely, I would have probably screwed off, tried to sell it, found out I couldn't and... I guess left town with the next circus. Amazing halfbreed with bad taste in jewelry." "But it's obviously not your fault, right? No idea your actions would lead to that." "Yeah, the mysterious maiden of the orient thing gets old after a while but so many people buy into it." "I am disowned, though, if it helps."

Saelhen pretty much spills all the beans to Looseleaf- and tries to lay out a plan for how they can both avoid taking the blame for this. Looseleaf is shocked that Saelhen has the audacity to try to keep up the con, after what happened- and horrified at the implication that she was somehow responsible for this.

Looseleaf:"You're thinking of trying to keep up the scam," Looseleaf says in disbelief. "By Harmony, you actually want to double down." Benedict I. (GM):"...suspects, wanted for...!" "...my students..." "...jured patients!" There's an argument happening outside your door. Looseleaf:"Oh, there it is," Looseleaf sighs. She folds her arms and looks up at the ceiling of the hospital room and resigns herself to be utterly annihilated by terrible inexorable fate.

The door opens, and in walks... uh. A nurse? It's a round tiefling woman dressed in... not so much a nurse's outfit as a sexy halloween costume of a nurse's outfit. It's... a lot. She seems to be playing the part of an actual medical professional, though, and after a quick checkup, asks which of their two guests they'd like to speak to first.

Who are these guests? Well, the first one is Provost Hamori, from the school. The drow lady. Something in Looseleaf's moth bones shudders as she enters the room and the trailing of her dress masks a skittering noise.

Luckily for them, the provost is very happy with them! Earth-shattering magical discoveries that unleash hordes of blood-sucking monsters on the populace of the city are not at all occasions to be mourned, in her opinion. There's so much new research to be done! It's exciting!

Plus, apparently, while they were out, refugees crawled their way out of the tentacle-floor in the pit! Supposedly descendants of people who disappeared from the face of the Jewel when the Blackout occurred. They'd managed to survive in that sort of horrible Stranger Things-ass upside-down horror-world for hundreds of years! Very exciting!

Provost Hamori reassures them that everything will be fine, and asks them to tell the truth to the nice police lady who's about to have a friendly chat with them.

Said police lady takes her turn to speak to the hospitalized party.

Benedict I. (GM): "My name is Stella Lastwave. I am captain of the Port Authority city guard. I am required to disclose this information." Then she leans in. "Would the two of you like to tell me what the fuck is happening in my city?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: Good question! Benedict I. (GM): "Dozens of bloodsucking hellmonsters are menacing the citizens, a troop of ultraviolent feral children are wreaking havoc in the streets, and the Yoshimimoto Plaza is a ruined crater of necrotic energy!" "I have fourteen witnesses stating that you walked up to the middle of the plaza with a magic item, touched the ground, and unleashed hell on the innocent citizens of Oyashio!" "You're going to explain what the hell you thought you were doing, right now!" Looseleaf: “Um. It was an accident?” Looseleaf begins, and then hedges, because this intimidating cop lady is intimidating her, and all of her prepared lines of explanation have gone right out the window. Benedict I. (GM): "An accident." "Again."

Captain Lastwave is highly suspicious of Saelhen's story- as the de la Surplus family doesn't exist in any of the shipping records they have for the world's busiest port city. If they're not in the records, they either don't exist, or they're smugglers.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "We have... fallen on difficult times as of late. It is a stain on our honor that we have failed to contribute to Kanzentokai's glory, I realize." Saelhen sighs. "...it was my hope that I might restore our reputation by completing the succession, when the means were lost to us for so long." Benedict I. (GM): "Yeah? And your 'succession' means siccing demons on a city of innocent people?" Looseleaf: “They just assigned me to her as an anthropology assignment,” Looseleaf babbles. “I was supposed to follow her doing her rite thingy and write it down and turn it in as an essay for my self-directed project.” Whatever the splash radius of this negotiation is going to wind up being, Looseleaf is absolutely making sure that she ends up outside of it. Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Strange are the ways of my ancestors. It is my hope that I will be allowed to serve the free citizens of Oyashio, as I have served those citizens long-imprisoned by the Blackout." Benedict I. (GM): "This is the seventh goddamn evil magic apocalypse that witch up in Blacksky has tried to wipe out Oyashio with! Even when it's not them, it's them, or-" "-what, are you talking about the murdercrazy teenagers running wild in the streets?" Looseleaf: Looseleaf looks at Fishercrown. ”Oh.” Saelhen du Fishercrown: "So I have been told." Looseleaf: "So that’s what the Provost meant by... whoof." "So, ‘we found humans on the other side of the portal’ was definitely a euphemism, huh.”

Thanks to Saelhen once again rolling absurdly high on Deception, Captain Lastwave lets them off with a warning, and leaves. They leave the hospital- or rather, the Temple of Karou, Heartlifter, God of Joy.

as you leave the Temple of Karou, you learn that the Temple of Karou comprises the upper floors of the building, 2 and up the first floor, run by the local bishop of Karou (Vermillion Hansen, the tiefling "nurse" you met) is the Pink Lips Pleasure House- an official government institution funded by the Ecumene of Joy. it is a brothel. the Ecumene of Joy is a little weird.

So with that crisis officially Not Their Fault, Looseleaf and Saelhen return to Blacksky, where the Provost- in exchange for keeping it Not Their Fault- will be having them conduct further research on this bracer- which has sprouted a new arrow, pointing off somewhere to the northeast.

Next session, we'll see what that research entails!

#twofaced jewel

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comic-brew · 3 years

Text

In my arms

@whumptober2020 days 4. Collapsed Building, 7. Carrying, 8. Punctured (Alt), 25. Blurred Vision | Ringing ears and 30. Internal Organ Injury

Summary: The final stand, the final touch. It was always going to end, and this is good enough. If only they had more time.

Notes: A Jaytemis drabble. You would have gotten a happy ending if yours truly had the tiniest bit of time management skills. Sorry I guess :)

Reading Time: 10 mins (1.4k words)

Warnings: major character deaths, blood, injury, angst

Ao3

***

Jason is inside a building. Details don't matter. The only thing that matters is that he notices the dreadful ticking of a bomb far too late, and that when he does he freezes up in panic.

No. This can't happen again.

A hand grabs his and drags him along, urges him to run. Faster and faster.

It's not fast enough.

They almost make it outside.

Almost isn't good enough.

Through the blinding flash of light and booming sound defeaning his ears, the hands still holds his tightly. The warmth of foreign skin against his own quells the panic rising up to his throat, so he clings to it, in a hopeless search for something solid.

The entire building shakes and starts collapsing on itself, faster than Jason can comprehend, faster than any idea can cross his mind and lead to their salvation.

It's okay, Jason thinks.

And though the time truly isn't enough for any coherent thoughts to form, it is enough for feelings.

Jason's heart is filled to the brim with regrets, but also relief.

This time..

This time, at least he won't die alone.

***

Jason wakes up to a burning ache coursing throughout his flesh like electricity. He winces as soon as his mind associates with reality enough to register the million sirens ringing in his ears, sounds perpetually high to the point of shrieks, piercing through his eardrum.

His vision provides no help amidst the darkness, only the blurry outline of what he supposes are the shattered remnants of the building piling up above his head. A small opening from where gleams of fiery light manage to seep through highlight the point where two large pieces of concrete have been slammed against eachother, shielding his head from being utterly crushed beneath the baptism of wreckage.

It hurts to breathe in nothing but dust, it hurts to try and move, when perhaps tons worth of weight -and intense strain of pain- render his muscles useless.

"Shit" he breathes out. Jason can't hear his own voice in his ringing ears, so he guesses he might've simply thought the word silently in his mind. He tries to remember something, anything, cause his mind is empty like a blank slate. His efforts only contribute to the head bursting headache building up inside his scalp.

Shit, he repeats, before unconsciousness drags him right back under.

***

Jason blinks, and strong arms are pulling his limp body out from underneath the rubble. If the arms struggle in vain to retrieve his still dwelled in corpse, Jason doesn't know. His spine and really every single bone inside him feels encased in a veil of pain, a bond blurring all other senses while its pressure builds up to the point where he can barely stand it. He knows methods to help deal with the pain but it's nearly impossible to concentrate what with the wicked gorgons screeching in his ears.

Jason is reminded of the arm securely latched around his torso in its attempt to free him of the wreckage. Trying to fish the name of the person offering help out of his memory's hazy embers proves feckless. The edges of his vision begin to fade and Jason gladly gives in to perhaps dangerous, but pleasant numbness. The sharp nails scratching his drums wither out.

Good.

He's fought through one death already. If this is truly his time to return then… well.

Jason wants to leave in peace.

***

Jason blinks and the arm is around his shoulder, trying to pull him to his feet. In blurry pixels he catches glimpse of red. Beautiful red, nothing like the horrid hue of blood, although the later still appears in sight.

Artemis.

He recognises the arm to be the Amazon's in a rare moment of clarity. Some of the knots in his brain are untangled, but the pain feels to be spreading to every single piece and bit of his being, he can barely breathe in short and sharp intakes of air that don't quite fill up his lungs.

Artemis is still trying to get him to stand upright by supporting his body and letting him lean onto her but putting even the slightest pressure on his legs is impossible.

Artemis sends him an as always perfectly composed look, expertly hiding all the uncertainty and worry right beneath. She tells him something. Jason can't hear her words, his ears refuse to welcome any other sound other than painfully high pitched ringing.

Yet if he has to guess, she's asking whether he can walk.

Jason doesn't need to question it twice.

He can't walk, he can't even stand. His legs don't respond to his demands.

So he gathers all his strength. He tells her exactly that through gritted teeth, and passes out right after.

***

The next time Jason regains consciousness he wakes up to a warmth spreading all over his left flank, a pleasant change to the constant reminder of excruciating pain.

It soon registers that he's being carried in someone's arms strong arms, and those arms can only belong to Artemis. Honestly, he'd be lying to himself if he insisted that he hasn't fantasized of feeling her taut muscles on his skin, he just wishes the circumstances were a little more… ideal.

He chooses to revel in her comfort for a bit, as it does wonders to soothing the ache in his flesh and bones. Saying he doesn't feel well would be an understatement. Jason feels as if his spine is in the process of being ripped out of his back, yet no mercy is shown in letting him sleep either.

He'd much rather drift off again, where the tremors of pain are duller. But he can't. Artemis might need his help.

He has to wake up. Fully.

When he opens his eyes he's blinded by the unyielding midday sun, as it's reflected on the gigantic sand hills of the desert. He doesn't think he remembers which desert they're crossing, or why.

As he tries to rely more and more on his senses, he notices how Artemis' walk isn't steady, and how she stumbles regularly in the short time he's conscious.

He begins to hear her silent grunts, and how she's panting while carrying him in her arms. He wants to speak to her and tell her to lower him down until she regains her strength.

He can't, because every time she stumbles forward he can only concentrate on the excruciating pain tearing open his chest. When she abruptly shifts him in her arms to not fall, Jason begins coughing and the force grazes and bruises his shattered bones even further.

Along with bile and phlegm blood rises up to his throat. The bitter taste of iron floods his senses and when the sharp pain of being lowered to the ground registers he struggles to roll to the side, so as to not choke in his insides pouring out of him.

Jason's not exactly well, to understate the issue. He supposes he has many broken or fractured bones and he's most likely bleeding internally.

Artemis collapses next to him, just as his esophagus stops guiding fluids that should have stayed inside, to his mouth.

Jason can barely breathe. Artemis is clutching her side, and he sees with an apathy that only the inevitability of death brings that she's bleeding out next to him.

A sharp piece of shrapnel is embedded in her flank.

They both don't have long. Nobody's going to find them in time. They're living the last moments of their life.

"Princess" Jason mumbles. It's the best he can do. Jason kinda likes the thought of it being the last thing he'll ever say. Not ideal. But acceptable.

Artemis turns slowly to face him. Perhaps they have just a little more time. She smiles dizzily and bitterly, but even so Jason is content with it being the last sight his eyes ever see.

His vision begins to fade as they hold eachother's gaze for what feels like eons, sharing every unspoken word that will forever be concealed beneath their ribcage.

Right before the end, Artemis leans in, and plants a tender kiss on his lips. Jason melts into it, savoring its mellow warmth.

Death finds them in eachother's arms.

Night comes, and the wind blows the sand over their bodies, slowly covers their entwined hands.

For Jason, she was the best last thing he could have ever held.

#whumptober2020 #no.30 #no.25 #no.8 #no.7 #jaytemis #jason todd #artemis grace #artemis of bana mighdall #rhato #red hood #major character death #injury #blood #my fic #angst #no.4

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notquiteaghost · 4 years

Text

there’s nothing i wouldn’t do

mcu/hawkeye comics, post-avengers, barney&clint, 2k

inspired by this post

AO3 link in notes

He wasn’t expecting it to be a thing, is the problem.

Like, how often do aliens fucking invade New York? Once in a lifetime deal, it’s gotta be. Clint was busy — with having a hole in his chest, but SHIELD wouldn’t like him picking fights with run-of-the-mill mobsters, so it was, once again, up to Barney to step up and keep his baby brother safe. Hell, even if Clint could’ve got out his building without passing out, Barney still probably would’ve gone instead. Clint’s just a guy.

He had a plan, and it should’ve been simple. Bandana tied round his face, hair hidden under a beanie, and only Natasha’s gonna notice which Barton is actually slinging the arrows around, and Natasha’s well-aware of Clint’s stab wound. Murder all the aliens, sit through Coulson’s lecture on Clint’s behalf, hopefully their building’s still standing by the end of it. Hold it over Clint’s head until they die. Never, ever do it again.

Except.

He goes after the wannabe god, and the wannabe god can, obviously, control fucking minds, so then he shoots a shit ton of almost-entirely-innocent SHIELD employees. And then Natasha knocks him out of it and they all murder a shit ton of aliens, so hopefully SHIELD will cancel the shoot on sight order, but after all the aliens are dead, Tony goddamn Stark drags them all to get shawarma, and it’s not like Barney can say no. He can’t make Captain America think Clint’s an asshole.

And then, three days later, when Barney’s trying to explain to Coulson that, no, Clint is absolutely not going to fucking Russia, Clint can’t lift his arms, and also they’re still trying to get back the power in their building and also also as far as SHIELD is concerned it was Clint who got used as a puppet by a hostile alien and then bounced without any kind of medical eval so what is this actually about, because it sure as shit ain’t a human trafficking ring — three days later, his phone rings. Caller ID says Your New Sugar Daddy, so it’s Stark, so Barney hangs up on Coulson and answers it.

“Y’know, I could use some new shoes,” he says, throwing Clint’s phone on the couch when it immediately starts buzzing again. “What’re your terms? How much skin am I showing to get some new shoes?”

Stark splutters, but recovers within seconds and says, “Shoes are a titty pic at least,” and Barney is suddenly, sinkingly certain that him and Stark could be friends. It makes him shudder.

He bites back the joke he wants to make about how many titty pics he gets to send before Stark stops buying him shoes, and says, “Titty pics ain’t why you’re calling, though.”

“Heard you’ve been having some apartment trouble,” Stark agrees, casually, like he has any way of knowing that that isn’t really fucking creepy. “Y’know, I have this great big tower. It’s got, amongst a lot of other things, an entirely self-sustaining power system.”

“…You want me to move in with you?”

“I’m just letting you know it’s an option, that’s all.”

Barney narrows his eyes. “Anyone else say yes?”

Stark huffs. “You’re first on my list, actually. Figured I’d start with the easiest, work my way up.”

Again, Barney bites his tongue. He cannot flirt with Tony Stark when Tony Stark thinks he’s his brother, no matter how funny it is. He’s sworn off starting shit with Clint since they got banned from Lithuania. “And what if I like my apartment?”

The briefest of pauses, before Stark says, “Then you keep living in your apartment. Again, just letting you know your options.”

“Pay to have the power lines for my block fixed,” Barney says, just as Clint stumbles out his room, “and maybe I’ll swing by for lunch. That’s what this is really about, yeah? Team building shit?”

“Wait, your block doesn’t have power?”

Clint is staring at him, eyes narrowing. He’s been awake maybe ten minutes, and it’s a coin toss if he’s remembered to put his aids in yet. Barney makes a face at him. “Half the damn city doesn’t have power, don’t you watch the news? Hell, ain’t people waving big signs outside your front door?”

“I’ve been—” Stark starts, then stops himself, then presumably remembers he’s trying to tempt Barney into some kinda morning-cartoons perma-sleepover and that’s gonna require some emotional vulnerability, and says, “Been in the workshop, mostly. The suit didn’t cope so well in the vacuum of space. But, yeah, power, I can do power. Text me about lunch.”

“Only if Captain America’s there, too,” Barney says, then hangs up. Clint’s eyes are even narrower. He’s gonna give himself a headache. “What?”

“Were you talking to Tony Stark?”

“Yeah, he wants me to move in with him.”

“He wants me to move in with him,” Clint counters.

“Hey, I’m the one who actually fought the aliens, kid—”

“I was all for fighting the aliens! You ziptied me to the bed!”

“And that you couldn’t get out of those makes it clear you were in no shape for fighting the aliens.” Barney walks into the kitchen, digs through their pile of homecooked food — you showing up on TV saving the world makes everyone want to cook you things, it turns out — for Clint’s pain meds. Clint leans against the wall and looks pitiful.

“Maybe I wanna live with Tony Stark,” he says. Barney laughs, hands Clint the tablets and the water so his hands are free to talk.

“Thought you were gonna die in this shithole. Thought, next time anyone shoots you, you were gonna demand they carry you back here so you can bleed out on the floor since getting the blood out’ll be someone else’s problem.”

“Bet Stark’s eyesore of a tower’s got power, though.”

“And soon,” Barney assures him, “so will we.”

Clint shuffles back to the couch and flops over it, and almost hides his wince at the feelings his stab wound has about that. “Bet Stark’s tower’s got heated floors. Stupid fast internet. Bet he’s got chefs and cleaners and everything.”

Barney always forgets how being hurt makes Clint into a five year-old again. “If some stranger tried to clean your room, you would stab them.” Clint sticks his tongue out.

Then he jumps, because Barney’s phone is buzzing again. Got his aids in, then.

It’s a text, this time, from an unknown number.

???: Stark tells me you’ll only come out to play if I come out too - Steve

“Holy shit,” Barney says, “Captain America is texting me.”

“What the fuck,” Clint pushes himself up, “Give me the phone. Give me the phone! He’s texting me!”

“Again,” Barney says, typing complete nonsense so Clint hears the tapping noise, “it was me who he bonded with when we murdered a load of aliens together, he has no idea who you are.”

“Barney. He’s Captain America.”

Goddammit, that fucking whine. He throws Clint his phone.

Then stands behind him to watch him type.

You: he ain’t exactly my usual kinda buddy

You: appreciate the thing with the missile obviously but also i don’t think he pays taxes?

Clint backspaces four times to change his terrible text speak for actual words. It’s hilarious.

steve!!!!: He fucking better.

You: if you yell at him about this please film it

You: i promise not to put it online i just want it playing on a loop in my apartment

steve!!!!: He says ‘Excuse me of course I pay taxes, I have to get rid of all this money somehow’

steve!!!!: I’m double-checking with Miss Potts.

You: did shield just give you the phone numbers of the entire population of new york

steve!!!!: No, I think it’s only 30%.

You: oh shit do you have fury’s number

steve!!!!: Strangely, no.

You: dammit

You: one day

“You are definitely the reason Fury didn’t give Captain America his personal cell number,” Barney says. Clint shoves at him.

steve!!!!: Not planning on moving into Stark’s place, then?

You: think living somewhere that expensive would give me a rash

You: don’t tell shield this but i stole my apartment from the mob

“Oh my God Clint they are definitely reading his texts,” Barney groans.

You: hey uh unrelated but anyone give you an update on opsec

Clint glares at him, pointedly, then makes a truly inhuman noise when he reads Steve’s next reply.

steve!!!!: Is that an offer?

“Oh my fucking God I’m gonna become best friends with Captain America,” Clint says, low and reverent.

Barney rolls his eyes. “He still thinks he’s talking to me.”

“So? You wore a mask and shit, he won’t notice.”

“You are so fucking injured. He will definitely notice.”

“Okay, then you wear a wire, and I tell you what to say—”

Barney snatches the phone back, types out ‘hell yeah let’s get a drink, when you free?’, then locks it and tucks it away. Clint is fully pouting.

“I’m going out,” Barney reminds him. “Coulson wants you in Russia, I’m gonna find out the fuck why. Amuse yourself for a while, you can keep flirting with Captain America when I get back.”

“If you really loved me you’d wear a wire,” Clint huffs. Barney ruffles his hair and goes to find his jacket.

–––––––––––––––

“Explain to me again,” Coulson says, exasperated in a way Barney’s more used to seeing directed at Clint, “why you thought pretending to be Clint was in any way a good plan.”

Usually, they have chats like these in some pretentious hipster place, where all the drinks have dumb names and cost twenty bucks a pop, but for obvious reasons that’s not happening. So, they’re in a park, miraculously untouched. There’s a flock of pigeons going at what looks like some bodega’s entire stock of bread.

“Clint was stabbed doing something SHIELD don’t need to know about; SHIELD didn’t tap me for the Avengers, ‘cause they still think I’d sell them all out for the right price; aliens were invading New York; I live in New York and I didn’t have any other plans.”

Coulson pinches at the bridge of his nose. He for sure agrees Barney made the right call, given the givens, and he will for sure die before he ever admits it. Barney is the reason the wannabe god didn’t stab him through the chest, though, so Barney is gonna try and make him admit it.

“You don’t have clearance to know about the Avengers.”

“Half the world knows about the Avengers, we were on every news channel there is.”

“Prior to the Chitauri invasion,” Coulson says, exasperation ticking up a notch, “you did not have clearance to know about the Avengers Initiative. SHIELD already don’t trust you, and now you’ve been compromised by a hostile alien with unknown motivations and allegiances—”

“Which is why SHIELD’s gotta keep thinking it was Clint,” Barney agrees, “‘cause they'll just straight up shoot me.”

Coulson sighs, heavily. But he doesn’t disagree.

“Going forward, then,” he says. “Are you going to continue to be Hawkeye?”

“I kinda really thought the alien invasion was a one-time thing. You telling me we’re expecting more aliens?”

“Not with any certainty,” which is Coulson for ‘yeah, probably’. “But I, for one, would rather we were prepared. And with the way some things are going, the Avengers may be needed for purely Earth-based disputes.”

“You get superheroes, you’re asking for supervillains?”

“Unfortunately.”

Barney lets out a long breath. It should be hilarious, that some idiot might actually pull on a cape and a dumb mask and try to take over the world, but he just got done stopping the last idiot, and they’re still pulling out the bodies. Morning cartoons never have collateral damage.

“I gotta talk to Clint,” he says. “He’d be better at it, but he’s been muttering about bouncing from SHIELD lately. Taking it real personal that you don’t trust me, who’d’ve thunk it.”

“I trust you,” Coulson says, lightly. Barney rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, no shit. Look, I’ll go to Russia, but someone’s gotta babysit Clint while I’m gone. I’m sick of the fucker pulling his stitches.”

“I don’t know who’s going to be there to meet you—”

“This ain’t the first mission I’ve run in Clint’s place.”

Coulson blinks. Huh, Barney had honestly thought he knew about that. “Well,” he says, “then you leave bright and early tomorrow morning. Try not to get in too much trouble, would you?”

Barney grins, trademark Barton asshole. “No promises.”

#marvel #the avengers #hawkeye #hawkguy #clint barton #barney barton #tony stark #steve rogers #hello it’s me the world’s only barney barton stan #yelling at clouds #fic tag #also. love how at this point not ‘killing’ coulson just means #ignoring all the agents of shield bullshit #no he didnt get forced to fake his death. that was so dumb.#fuck you fury. all your ideas suck.

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moon-beam95 · 5 years

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Numb

By:Moon-Beam95

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Pairing: Ben Hargreeves x Reader

You and Ben had been together since you were mere teens. You lived on the same street, next door in fact and it was everything a teen romance should be. Well, almost everything. The moves don't usually have the love of one's life meeting a violent end. But, then again, not everyone's love interest used to be a superhero. That's right, you heard me, Ben was one of 6, cough *7* cough, students of The Umbrella Academy, a crime fighting squad with powers. And your Ben had the strangest of all, a monster hidden within that he could summon anytime and manifest tentacles via his chest cavity.

The first time you saw his power in action you were sat in your room watching as he paced nervously. It was terrifying, not his powers but him, his face scrunched up, body coiled, knuckles turning white from shear force and he began to sweat profusely. He looked like he was in immeasurable pain and that to you was far more important than any extra appendages. So when you flung your arms around him, mindful of his tentacles, and told him this the look you received in return was one of intense wonderment. And, when you interacted with them it began to border on awe, it was that night you had your first kiss.

Now normally you'd scoff at girls who were swept away by romance, whose relationship progressed far too fast, but when it was you in that position it seemed natural. It wasn't forced, you'd been friends since childhood and your love for him had just been a foregone conclusion, from that of a friend to that of a romantic partner. You cannot pinpoint when it happened, it simply just was.

When he died everything felt wrong. You found yourself waiting by the window where he would sneak through every night. Or catch yourself turning to speak to him and breakdown in realisation. But, you had Klaus, sweet lonely Klaus, who pushed his grief aside to help you, a boy who was probably far more heartbroken at his brothers passing and far more traumatised due to being there when it happened. He was a far better friend than you deserved and it was these moments sat helping and sharing that you saw what Ben had seen. Klaus’s heart, his potential.

It took a long time but you began to move on, grow up. You had too, but nothing felt completely right again. You did what was expected of you, you went to school, attempted date set-ups. You smiled and laughed in all the right places all the while wondering why these people who claimed to love you could not see that you were drowning. Screaming out into a world that did not give a shit.

You and Klaus continued to be close friends, a friendship born from a desperate attempt to keep Ben close. You both however, came to care dearly for each other, and when you sat huddled in the dark neither had to pretend. You spoke of your emptiness, a feeling of disconnect with the rest of the world, as if you were an outsider watching a series of events. And when Klaus confessed his powers, what his dad did to him and the need of drugs to make it all go away, you sat and held him raging internally at the man who moved his children like pawns.

It was this bond that you shared that led to him calming you, grounding you when the dissonance you felt became too much, when you felt like a passenger in your own body. To you cleaning him up after a drug filled binge, desperately trying to help. But, you both knew the real reason neither of you reached out for help. A lack of motivation. What reason other than each other did you have to get better? Who would actually help, when others told you in your moment of grief that you needed to smile more and for god-sakes can't you just be happy? Or, Klaus, who actually managed to work up the courage to enter rehab only to be treated like just another body, no one actually showing him the tools to cope.

You were sat one night at your cluttered desk mindlessly reading sheet after sheet. Homework was a bitch. You'd think that the older you got the less you have but no, even as a PhD student you still had fuck tons. It was here, rereading yet again about Medieval Poets that you felt a tell tale breeze followed your window creaking open and a lithe figure clambered through.

Swirling on your chair, internally cheering at the distraction, you surveyed him and gave a small sigh of relief. He looked better than last time, when he was covered in blood smelling of sweat and grime muttering about Dave. Don't get me wrong he looked far from ok but you'd take what you could get. As the saying goes, slow and steady wins the race.

Dropping your pencil you asked, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Nervousness bloomed in the recess of your mind as he didn't give his usual snarky reply but instead perched himself on the end of your bed and stared at you rather seriously face laden with guilt.

“Klaus,” you began tentatively, “what’s wrong?”

He took a steadying breath, hand clutching the bed. “My powers have err somewhat grown recently.”

Your mouth dropped open, this could either be very good or very bad. You knew how Klaus felt about his powers, the toll they took. “Ok?”

“The ghosts,” he started, “I can touch them, make them real.”

You squeal, “That’s brilliant.”

“Yeah,” he said, “Brilliant.”

You quirk a brow but he doesn't answer, his body goes taught, face one of extreme concentration and you gasp in surprise as a figure fades into existence.

You raise a hand to cover your mouth, eyes unable to take in what they were seeing. You became dimly aware that you had reached out a shaking hand, flinching as the figure took it before letting out a sob as he pressed it against his chest, breathing out a broken -

“Ben.”

He gives a sad smile and walked closer, slowly so as not to spook, never dropping your hand.

“Y/N.”

Tears poured down your face, how many times had you dreamt this? He was here, you could literally reach out and touch him. Your mind whirled, when something occurred to you.

“How, how long has Klaus been able to see you?”

“Since the day I died.”

You whip round betrayal evident in your expression. “And you didn't think to say anything?”

He doesn't answer but Ben does, he places his hand, oh god, on your shoulders drawing you back to him. “I asked him not to.”

“Why?”

“You were already struggling, it would have killed you. Killed me, to see you, not being able to talk to you, touch you, kiss you.”

“And now, cos from the sounds of it this” you say gesturing between the two of you “Isn't a permanent thing.”

He brushed a piece of your hair behind your ear. “I guess for once I wanted to be selfish, I had to take this. I love you.”

You hiccup, “love you.”

H smirks, shrugging a shoulder, “I am pretty loveable.”

You let out wet sob, you've missed this and whack his chest.

“Yikes, violent woman.”

He reaches a hand to caress your face before leaning in to place a kiss to your lips. Just as his lips brush yours he fades and you stumble forwards landing on you knees. Tears runs down you face, as you let out a keening wail, fisting the carpet below.

Ben

Klaus gives a tired groan and slides off the bed to kneel beside your trembling form.

“I’m sorry, that's all I could do”

You stop him from apologising, none of this was his fault and give him a watery smile, he’d given you a great gift the least you could do was put him at ease. So pushing aside the numbness that was creeping alarmingly fast through you body you tell him -

“Thank you.”

His phone rings and he reluctantly leaves, throwing a paring glance your way. You follow him to the window, leaning out watching him sprint down the alley between your houses, eyes staring blankly ahead.

Goodbye Ben.

#ben hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves imagine #ben hargreeves fanfiction #the umbrella academy fanfiction #The Umbrella Academy #umbrella academy fanfiction #Umbrella Academy #ben hargreeves #ben hargreeves drabble

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deatheld-blog · 5 years

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𝙹𝙾𝙷𝙽 "𝙹𝙰𝙲𝙺" 𝙰𝙳𝙴𝙻𝙻 has been spotted alive ! they must have come a long way from 𝙱𝙾𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙽, 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚂𝙰𝙲𝙷𝚄𝚂𝙴𝚃𝚃𝚂. they’ve been with the group for 𝟷𝟶 𝙼𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙷𝚂, taking up the role as a 𝙻𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁. the others have described them to be quite 𝙳𝙴𝙲𝙸𝚂𝙸𝚅𝙴, 𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙳𝙴𝙽𝚃, and 𝙶𝚄𝙰𝚁𝙳𝙴𝙳. if you take a look in their bag, you may find 𝙰 𝙱𝚁𝙾𝙺𝙴𝙽 𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙿𝙰𝚂𝚂, 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙸𝙽 𝙽𝙴𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙴, and 𝙾𝙻𝙳 𝙷𝙾𝙲𝙺𝙴𝚈 𝙿𝚄𝙲𝙺.

𝙾𝙾𝙲. hello all! my name’s frankie, and i’m happy to be here! beneath the cut you’ll find an admittedly long bout of information about my boy. forgive me for any typos; it’s currently 1:30am as i write this! there are also some stats and connection ideas. if you want to plot, give this a like, or shoot me a message!

𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙴. john “jack” adell. 𝙰𝙶𝙴. thirty-nine. 𝙷𝙾𝙼𝙴𝚃𝙾𝚆𝙽. boston, massachusetts. 𝙶𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁. cismale. 𝙾𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽. bisexual. 𝙾𝙲𝙲𝚄𝙿𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽. former enforcer for the ( fictional ) seattle expansion nhl team / current leader of the group. 𝚃𝙴𝙼𝙿𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃. choleric. 𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙸𝚃𝚂. practical, focused, efficient, problem-solver, a skilled delegator, inflexible, gruff, demanding of loyalty, uncomfortable around emotion.

trigger warnings for mentions of alcoholism, implied abuse, and death.

𝙱𝙴𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴. before the apocalypse set in, john “jack” adell grew up in boston. he did alright in school academically, but his real love rested in the one thing that let him soothe his admittedly short temper: hockey. the minute that he got old enough to start fights, he began dropping the gloves. no opponent was too small, too big: if they got in his way, or fucked with one of the players on his team, it was almost a guarantee he’d poke and prod at confrontation. this ferocity carried him all the way to the pro league, and he settled into the role of an enforcer and grinder. his focus was less scoring goals and moreso establishing and increasing team morale in the face of adversity.

his short temper stemmed from a difficult home life, with an alcoholic mother separating from her family and taking his sister with her --- years later, jack would come to find that she had disappeared shortly thereafter, and his sister died from illness. jack’s father was a good man who worked hard his entire life, and it filled jack with pride when he paid off his dad’s mortgage with whatever small wealth he was able to sequester away. he took plenty of hits, whether it be to the head, the shoulder, the stomach, but that didn’t eliminate the fact jack was good at strategy. while making plays wasn’t his strong-suit, he knew how to put his head down and focus. where was an opponent’s weakness? what would goad them into striking first? who liked to showboat, and who threw the fastest punches? he did everything it took to secure his place in this newfound family: during games he was a beast. off the ice he became something of a mediator if the problem didn’t involve him. his door stayed unlocked during road trips if someone needed to talk about something, get a weight off their chest. he made sure guys who drank too much got home safe. a caretaker wasn’t a role jack would have ever seen for himself as a kid, but he found that it eventually made sense.

he became an assistant captain eventually once he focused less on fighting and more on racking up points, as recognition of his dedication and character. jack wasn’t an overly emotional man then, and he surely isn’t now, but he has good enough intentions and is willing to give trust so long that it isn’t used against him. burn him once and most people will find they’ll regret it; there’s truth in the warning not to bite the hand that feeds. his truly prized possessions -- the broken compass and old hockey puck -- are from his father and the first game he ever won during a professional game. he was heading back to boston to see his father when the world ended and the apocalypse broke out. once he realized he was well and truly stranded, his focus became on surviving, and eventually founded his own group of survivors he trusted.

𝙰𝙵𝚃𝙴𝚁. jack’s ascension to leadership was rocky to say the very least. he’d survived for a while on his own, drifting between newly-formed groups of the living and dead. after a while he said “fuck it” more or less and started his own with two roadsters who had the same morals he did even in the apocalypse; they started off with three and gained plenty more. jack ended up becoming something of a natural leader in the same way he had with his team. he’d seen plenty and been just as scarred by the horrors the world tossed his way. it was only a month in that he truly started to warm up to the concept of being put in this position. two months in he had proved himself time and time again to be someone worth trusting; he settled easily into the role of both an enforcer and comforter. he was a man of few words but a good shoulder to cry on if necessary.

he also had a wide range of skills and wasn’t afraid to learn; sure, he could put anyone who tried to start a fight down with a couple of words, but he fired a decent enough shot after life-or-death-necessitated practice. killing someone isn’t easy, but if he puts it in the range of an ice-ring, just him and a thousand other undead opponents, it gets easier. he might not hold the best conversation, but he’s got an eye for planning ahead and is willing to listen if you’ve got something to say; his flaws are apparent, sure, but usually outweighed by his focus on survival and keeping as many people alive as he can. he’s terrified by how well he’s managed to make a place for himself in this new world, by the way violence has changed him, but it makes sense that there’s no other choice. there’s no way out of this besides ripping out throats in the same way there was no way to survive in the league without throwing heavy hits.

𝙸𝙽 𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚈. jack’s a former pro hockey player who focused less on scoring and more on winning fights. he’s a natural leader, if not quiet, and founded the group. over the course of two months he settled into this position fully, seeing that others looked to him for guidance. while he’s not personally good with emotion, he’s strategic, a decent sounding board, and willing to listen if someone has concerns. he doesn’t shy away from violence -- it’s usually his first reaction to something, although he’s more skilled in restraining that impulse now than he was in his youth. he doesn’t back down from a fight and will do anything to keep his newfound family alive, no matter what it takes from him.

𝚆𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙳.

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚃𝚆𝙾 𝚁𝙾𝙰𝙳𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂. these two would have been the first to join the small coalition it was when it first began. jack considers them to be his closest allies and trusts them as much as he did the first time he met them. they’re closer now than they’ve ever been and care about one another in equal measure -- although maybe they’re concerned by jack’s leaning towards brutality over negotiation on bad days. the details can definitely be worked out! 𝙾𝙽 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙾𝙵𝙵 𝙰𝙶𝙰𝙸𝙽 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴𝚁. this character could be someone who’s been in the group about as long or longer than he has -- their small affair is very much touch and go, without many emotions mixed in, until suddenly there are, and jack doesn’t really know what to do with himself about it, and it’s awkward, and no one will talk about their feelings like fucking adults even though the world has ended and if there’s any time to grow up about this shit it’s now. 𝙾𝙻𝙳 𝙵𝙻𝙰𝙼𝙴. jack, frankly, would have little to no interest at first in re-kindling anything here. he bounced around a lot during his years as a hockey player making money, and never settled in the way lots of people expect those of his age to, but he’d always been alright with that; he spent two or three years with this character somewhere in his late twenties to early thirties, and it died off in an ugly way after he took a hit that led to an almost career-ending concussion. maybe they’re new to the group and it’s a shock to encounter them here of all places. maybe they’ve been around since the start and are dancing around one another! 𝙲𝙻𝙾𝚂𝙴 𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝙳. what it says on the tin. they get along well enough, and whenever jack’s being an insufferable asshole, they pat him on the back and tell him to sit the fuck down. 𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙴. admittedly inspired by this gifset! i just want a relationship with a younger character that’s almost sibling-like in a way; jack has a lot to say and a lot of knowledge to pass on. 𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙾𝚁. jack’s a good leader, but he’s still got a lot to learn. whether it be medicinal skills or hunting or trapping or scouting, whatever this could possibly be, he’s open to listening and learning from someone who feels he might need to know more. 𝚁𝙸𝚅𝙰𝙻. they’ve duked it out before. they don’t like jack’s way of dealing with things in comparison to the other leader of the group. maybe a punch or two have been thrown in truly tense moments. they just flat out don’t get along, and there’s not a ton to do about it -- and jack likely hasn’t really tried, either. it’s ugly. maybe their differences will bond them together after a while, or maybe it’ll all come to a head.

#!!!#dragging myself outta bed to post this like AAA #crep.intro

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llzehs · 5 years

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Shield Reunion and the Dean Situation

The Shield has always been beyond what WWE want it to be, at least in its last couple of runs. Its three men with mutual respect for each other as the work horses of the company they took over as theirs getting the chance to work together as one. Share the ring and a bond with the group that define their career and story. Shield shared a story that pierced through the characters they played and affected the men behind those characters.

Roman, Dean and Seth all were visibly shaken up when Roman made his announcement. That moment they shared with their Shield pose was haunted by a dark cloud. All three men didn’t know if they would ever get a chance to be together again as the Shield. A lot of stuff happened since then. All the hell broke loose for Dean with Roman being gone. He’s not a guy who’ll take shit that’s against everything he stands for. I genuinely believe lot of his frustrations came from the Roman situation and how WWE forced him to use something that was hurting him emotionally a lot for storyline purpose. And in the end it all served no purpose whatsoever and his heel turn fell flat. He was back to square one.

I honestly believe this ‘one last time’ reunion is more personal than anything else. Like I can go into deep details and analyze stuff but at the end of the day, the vibe I got off of it all was that these three men behind these three characters getting to have one final run as a unit that defined them all the best during the course of their careers cuz they might never get a chance to do this ever again.

Roman has been through an experience that has made him grateful for little things in the world. I know he would love to have his best friend stick around, be his road partner, but Roman’s also a very considerate guy. He would want what’s best for Dean. I’m getting a feeling that if Dean really leaves in the end - which I’m strongly feeling at this point - maybe he’s got some personal reasons rather than something business related. He’s happy ever since Roman returned. You can easily see it in his face and the way he’s performing. I don’t doubt that Roman is on the quest to get his contract situation sorted out, but at the same time last night’s events made me feel like Roman has made peace with whatever Dean decides. He’s gonna enjoy his boy as long as he has with him in WWE.

According to recent reports Dean hasn’t signed a new contract yet, and he’s not been given the creative control he wants but everything else has been offered. So nothing has changed basically. Maybe Roman wants to give Dean a good send off, hence the way they reunited. I also feel like when they are together as a unit, most of their stuff comes straight from them. So yeah, the emotional moments, the dramatic turns, I give all credit to the boys. Roman is influential backstage nowadays and after what he went through and still came back to WWE, I’m sure they wanna give him whatever he wants cuz they owe it to him. And WWE can be nice when it wants, with the people it wants.

So the point I’m trying to make here is, this reunion really is not based on storylines and long sorted out plots. Its not that deep and that’s how I feel. This reunion is for a possibly departing Dean, and sending him out on a high note alongside his best friend who loves him a lot. Roman and Dean deserve to spent these last few months together in case Dean’s leaving cuz they both have been through a lot in last few months and maybe that’s the one good thing WWE can offer Roman cuz they certainly can’t give Dean what he wants.

I also see some people complaining bout Dean not paying for what he did and Roman wanting him back like nothing happened...Lmao, its sad how many people claim to be fan of these boys but have no understanding of their characters whatsoever. Its like they don’t hear what Dean says, don’t watch the way he acts. Seth and Dean both have characters with ton of layers, there’s no black and white with them. Roman’s always been the guy who’s all heart and love. He’s the only saint out of the three. And at the end of the day, its widely acknowledged how badly botched Dean’s heel run really was and now he’s leaving WWE cuz of constant bullshit thrown his way. How are people having a hard time accepting this after his situation became such a public knowledge is a little strange to me. I mean, plot holes from WWE are widely accepted as a normal occurrence. Why can’t we have it for the sake of Dean departing on a high note and his best friends sending him off the way they want? Right by his side.

I would also like to add that Dean’s turn was based on emotional turmoil, and it was evident losing Roman fucked him up royally. People say ‘for what he did to Roman’ and I’m like, he said some disgusting shit, but he put himself right in the same category as Roman. He implied him and Roman paid for their sins, and Seth still had to. Dean never went out to insult Roman, or called him names. Or said he never cared. He never even threw Seth’s past in his face. He was mentally in a bad place and he snapped. THAT’s the plot Dean was selling. No brainer. Then WWE creative stepped in and ruined the whole emotionally loaded storyline with their lazy disgusting bullshit that was filled with plot holes and ugly shit that made no sense and ruined Dean who suffered through such a personal blow to gain nothing in the end. Dean’s character NEVER recovered from that, and it got so bad that Dean decided to leave. We never found out the reasons and motives behind Dean’s doings, we never found out the reasons behind those tears. We never got the answers to those hints Dean dropped.

So really, what exactly should Roman be mad bout at him? His best friend, the man who was emotionally broken found a family in Roman. He found someone he could trust, love, without the fear of being betrayed by him ever. Roman has been the only one who has stood by Dean even when Dean was acting out. Whether it was over insecurities or his emotional issues. We have been led to believe Roman knows, understands and handles Dean better than anyone else can. So how can Roman not understand what has been going on with Dean? I see people saying Roman’s naive, but I think people are understating his character here. He has always taken great pride in being Dean’s only family. Roman no sold Seth’s reminder of Dean’s betrayal, its like he didn’t want to acknowledge it. Cuz really, he’s Dean’s best friend and knows him suffering such an ill fate and leaving Dean alone was meant to destroy his best friend mentally and emotionally. He accepts Dean’s flaws. He wants his family back. He KNOWS he can have him back. That’s what matters to him. He understands Dean’s turn was triggered by the news of his illness, and he knows now that he’s back he can have his Dean back too. Dean wasn’t greedy or some puppet...Dean acted like a mentally ill person. Roman knows Dean too well to not know that.

Seth on the other hand, he was rightfully wary. But he showed so much character and growth. He has always been selfish, but for once he wasn’t. He might not have such an open mind when it comes to Dean, cuz Dean and Seth don’t have a bond like Roman and Dean. But for Roman’s sake, he’s willing to be the bigger man. He also still cares bout Dean, and the Shield. I think the whole episode was beautifully done considering the awkward situation and the fucked up storyline him and Dean suffered post Roman’s departure. Also, Roman never asked Seth to apologize, and Seth had directly and selfishly hurt him for personal gains unlike Dean. So, basically if you understand Roman’s character, everything did make sense. Seth showed growth. Dean showed emotional vulnerability he should have based his heel run on but creative fucked it up. Roman showed what real life is all bout. Family. Love. Bonding. Living in the moment.

I hope people can look past the shitty part of WWE’s writing and just enjoy Dean with his brothers one last time, cuz we probably will never get a chance to ever have this again. That’s the feel I got. From Roman, from Seth, and even from WWE. These three men share a very deep bond, specially Dean and Roman. They should get a chance to celebrate it before their brother leaves for good.

#Roman Reigns #Dean Ambrose #Seth Rollins #The Shield #Shield #RAW #WWE #Thoughts #Meta #Shield Reunion #Fastlane #WWE PPV #Ambreigns

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chocolate-sideburns-of-love · 5 years

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I think I have the plot for Frozen 2 figured out.

Not that I've been reading a ton of spoilers or anything. Whenever I say something like "I have (show title) figured out!”, what I actually mean to say is that I’ve got the plot figured out as far as what I’D logically write if I were in the actual writers’ shoes. The chances of me being right are usually low (though I do often think my ideas are better tbh). I doubt my thoughts about it are all that original, but they do make some sense.

In the first film, we got very little backstory or information on Elsa’s powers, her parents, or Prince Hans. It’s mostly told from Anna’s limited POV. I loved that movie, but I’m getting a sense that Frozen II is told from Elsa’s POV and she’s a much more intense and serious person with a lot more knowledge than Anna, which explains the extreme tonal change in the Frozen II trailer.

An analysis of the trailer indicates that there are probably several other people with similar powers to Elsa’s. I’m guessing it’s three people, and they have the power to control wind, fire, and uhhh...something else. Maybe the last one can manipulate dirt (okay let’s just call that earthbending, why the hell not) or make plants grow and move. Who knows. The teaser shows autumn leaves in the wind with a title of ice letters turning to stone (a bit similar to Anna turning to ice in the first film). The girls are both shown in rocky locations. We see a ring of pink-tinged fire surrounding Elsa and Olaf at one point. So whatever is going on, these definitely appear to be seasonal and/or elemental powers.

The other individuals might be chiefs/leaders/kings like Elsa, or they might not. My personal guess is that Elsa and Anna’s parents were on a trip to see one of these people for Elsa’s sake when their ship went down. Perhaps it was the wind witch (okay, airbender) which would explain why the main characters are in a new autumnal location with leaves strewn everywhere, and why the wind power is shown being used there by...somebody.

Since Elsa is shown trying to walk on the sea to get somewhere there’s a possibility that the King and Queen of Arendelle could still be alive, which is why the girls are on this adventure in the first place. Could Elsa be trying to get to the sunken ship to find something important? Could one of the elemental witches/wizards/whatevers have caused the storm and intentionally sunk their ship? Did they really survive or is there just a hope that they did? Did one or both of them have elemental powers? We’ll find out, surely.

The trailer shows the wind power lifting what looks like a boy who might be from the Southern Isles (his clothes appear to match Hans’ style at least a little bit) while a Sami girl looks on. They both look to be around maybe 12. I’m guessing Kristoff might have something to do with the girl or her village, and we’ll learn more about his backstory and birth parents. I couldn’t really say one way or another if the girl or boy have any powers.

So far I’m just giving you a bunch of guesses, but my main theory actually has to do with Hans, his family, and the elemental “benders”. We know that there are 13 princes in the Southern Isles (which I just think of as Denmark in my headcanon). We know that Hans came to Arendelle with the intention of becoming king by marrying Elsa, but had to settle for Anna when he couldn’t get access to Elsa. I initially assumed this was some mission of personal ambition and one-upmanship for Hans. He seemed to want to show up his brothers by getting his own throne, which would have likely been his revenge for them teasing him about being so far away in line from becoming king at home.

Buuuut now I have another idea. What if the current ruler of the Southern Isles (either Hans’ older brother or another relative like his father, mother, or uncle) knew about the individuals with elemental powers and why they have them?

Human Greed Vs. Mother Earth is a major theme in fiction, so perhaps long ago the (Disney fairy tale versions of the) Scandinavian kingdoms were in danger of being invaded by some powerful group of asshole-ish, warmongering people or creatures. Then let’s say that Odin and the Norse gods (or someone like that) gave the leaders of the Scandinavian tribes these elemental powers to help them defend their people. They defeat the evil, boom, everything’s cool, and life returns to normal for the most part, except the powers stay in the family lines.

Hans’ family is in power in the Southern Isles. There are a LOT of princes, which seems like a very aggressive, competitive, toxic masculine environment to grow up in. I doubt Hans is the only rotten apple in this bunch. In fact, the whole family is pretty likely rotten.

The current ruler of the Southern Isles knows about the elemental powers, and in fact might have one (please not the firebending though, goddammit, because that’s such a fanon thing). He or she sends off three (or four) of the princes to marry, capture or destroy the people who have these powers. With any of these outcomes, it means that the Southern Isles gains control of the whole region.

Hans was given Arendelle because it should have been the easiest job. All he had to do was charm and marry the queen. If he had to kill her and usurp power there, the Southern Isles’ forces could have come to his aid. He managed to completely fuck up, however.

A few years later, Anna and Elsa find out that their parents were on a mission to get Elsa help with controlling her powers. They suspect that there’s a lot more to the story and investigate, and wind up in the airbender’s kingdom with these kids. They find that Hans’ brothers are in control of this kingdom as well as the (possible) earthbender’s region. They have to stop them before they use the other three powers to overthrow Elsa and Arendelle and basically make the Southern Isles the most dangerous force on Earth.

Hans might get redemption or he might not. Maybe Anna will just have to kick his ass some more. In any case I doubt that romance will be part of the resolution because Frozen isn’t about “true love wins all”, it’s about the bond between family, especially siblings. I have a hard time seeing Elsa being paired up with anybody, tbh. I think she’s popular because of her independence and her devotion to her sister, and Disney will likely stick with that. If I’m being honest, I’d like Anna and Kristoff to have relationship issues because of the differences in their lifestyles and personalities, and it would kind of be interesting and cool to see them break up but stay friends. ‘Cause that’s kinda what real life is like, and Disney seems to be more about keeping shit real these days.

Anyway that’s how I’D write it.

#frozen #prince hans #frozen 2 #frozen ii #frozen theories #frozen 2 speculation

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amaliabalash · 5 years

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It Chapter Two

Okay y’all I said I wanted to write a post of thoughts I’ve had on the movies (most the second, but here and there from the first), adaptation choices, etc., so here it is after five ten viewings of Chapter Two and a ton of viewings of the first movie as well. I stand by my initial sum up: I love it as a follow up if you’re watching it for the coming of age story of the group of friends that fight an evil being, but it’s mehhhh as a horror movie about a clown that kills children....which means I love it because I don’t give a fuck about the clown.

I love the Losers love for each other. I hate any moment that separates them or causes conflict between them, because in the book they are magically, instantly united as they join together that summer, and nothing stops that, and that’s one of my favorite things about the book. So the movie taking that complete level of solidarity hurts. But even so, when it comes down to it, again and again we see how much they all love and care for each other and I am all about that. Now below the cut, have 4300 words of rambling thoughts in bullet point form!

Mike: I love and hate what he was given for this movie. Not getting incapacitated by Bowers and hospitalized (as in the book), and instead actually getting to be in the final confrontation? THANK YOU, YES. Lying to the Losers? No, not a fan. At first I was mostly focused on being grateful he was in the final battle because I think it’s awesome they’ve all together, but the more I’ve thought about it, the more upset I am that he still got kinda screwed. He had more to do than he did in the first movie, but then like...he doesn’t get a scene of going and finding the rock and having his own flashbacks, and then he doesn’t get a separate confrontation with Pennywise either once they’re in the sewers (like Ben and Bev, Eddie and Richie, and Bill do). Being the crazy librarian’s assistant is bunk. And the whole Native American ritual shit...

The Ritual of Chüd: I fully understand not doing the ritual exactly like in the book, because hello, a metaphysical battle of wills, biting each other’s tongues in your psyche and getting thrown around is just a wee bit complicated to film. But making it so that Mike got the ritual from Native Americans (the ~mystical face distortion especially bugged me), and then it also didn’t even work...ugh. And again, the lying, ughhhh. A battle of wills was still basically how they defeated It, at least? Also, like, maybe it’s iffy to use some ancient tribal ritual that Bill got from a book, too, but I think it works (in a story sense, I mean) because they’re kids when they first try it. They go “hey, there’s this thing, we believe it’s the answer” and so it works. And it works so much better as a thing the kids found in a book and believed in, than as a ritual adult Mike got from Native Americans that never even worked. However, James McAvoy’s delivery of the line, “You stole it...from Native Americans?” is incredible and hilarious. And on the note of the smoke scene...

The Clubhouse: I don’t fucking care how relatively little sense it made to include the clubhouse, and how Ben’s “the hole was already dug out and oh hey btw I like architecture we forgot to mention that in the last movie” was paper thin, because I AM SO HAPPY THAT THEY MADE THE CLUBHOUSE. I’m glad they didn’t retroactively have them do the smoke scene, because it REALLY wouldn’t have made sense with the first film to them suddenly have done that in the midst of everything and not used it, but I’m sad it wasn’t in the first film to start with. I understand that the budget, like, doubled for chapter two. Happy they included the clubhouse at all, but super eh on including the smoke scene in the way they did. Again, the kids going “hey let’s try this thing” and it working through belief makes so much more sense to me. BUT CLUBHOUSE! :D

Stan: fuuuuuuuuck. They gave Stan so much more in chapter two than in one, somehow? I hate that in the book, the only thing we get of adult Stan is from his wife’s perspective, and then he’s dead. By giving Stan the letter at the end, as well as his added kid scenes, I feel like Stan was given some justice. And on the small book nod end, I loved him doing the bird puzzle, because book Stan is a big ol’ bird nerd. Also when Stan asks what he looks like when he’s older in that first scene and Bev has that look and says like now but taller? OW. ALSO the head-spider thing, “so you don’t get spiders in your hair,” nice horrible touch there. And this isn’t a Stan characterization thing, but one of the legs going through Stan’s eye and Richie being the one to say “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me” also feels appropriate because eye horror is a book Richie thing. And on the note of the letter (which I love), I want to know what Stan wrote to Patty. Because like, wow, after her husband seemingly out of nowhere kills himself, she still sends these letters to his old friends. Patty Uris, you’re a good woman.

Ben: I am generally in favor of Ben/Bev, and thought they had some nice moments in the new movie, but I haaaaate that Ben kept the yearbook page. It made no sense, and it was kind of weird for him to like...obsess over that for the next 27 years of his life when he hadn’t seen her? I think it would have been sweeter, honestly, if upon returning to Derry he was just HIT with how much he loved her, through that funky magic that bonded the Losers and broke them apart. Back in Derry, the feelings return freshly, even if they’re 27 years old (like happened for Richie, according to Bill Hader and my heart). If that had happened, and then they just...ended up sticking together afterwards, I’d prefer it. Lose the kiss, lose the yearbook thing, but keep the end scene with them on the boat, that’s fine. Also why the fuck was Ben in summer school, that flashback didn’t make sense, should’ve been in the library, please. If only we could have had a middle ground (aka the book) between the 1990 series where Ben was kind of presented as a manwhore and the movie where he’s still in love with the same girl from when he was 13 and that’s why he was alone. In the book he just...didn’t have much of an interest in the romance I think? Idk. Ben keeping the yearbook page is dumb and it was overdone but otherwise Ben and Bev are cute. But as for the first movie and flashback moments, I love little baby Ben Hanscom with all my heart, what a sweetheart. Sorry they made you creepily obsess on the same girl for the rest of your life, Ben.

MEMORIES: THEY WERE ALLOWED TO KEEP THEIR MEMORIES! I AM SO GRATEFUL! Some people are like “but now Richie has to remember this” and I’m like, the book fucks me up when I read it knowing that none of them will remember each other, and that none of them will remember Eddie and his sacrifice, how bravely he fought, fuuuuuck. So I’d rather sad remembering and honoring than completely forgetting. This is the happier ending, it really is.

Bill: He wasn’t really sick??? ow??? Like it makes his determination to search for Georgie make more sense, but oof. I have mixed feelings on this because in the book Bill is genuinely too sick to go with Georgie, but like...the “just because you did x doesn’t mean this horrible thing is your fault” is a really poignant emotional point to make. On the acting side, both Jaeden Martell and James McAvoy did really well with the stuttering, not making it over the top or just...forgetting about it. It felt realistic to those I’ve known with stutters. I think I’m gonna make a separate bullet point for how the marriages were handled, but, it makes me sad that Bill and Audra weren’t shown to be loving like in the book. Bill actually had a good relationship with his wife and that’s a bummer to take away. The choice to have Bill’s fervor in going after It right then be about seeing another kid get taken instead of because he finds Audra’s purse, though, seemed like a solid choice, it worked really well. It keeps the story tighter in a sense, because Bill’s guilt about Georgie is shown to be one of his driving forces across both movies. And...okay that ties right into the marriages thing so...

Marriages: I am grateful that they didn’t have Audra and Tom go to Derry like in the book. There is SO MUCH book content that didn’t make it in, stuff that is really plot relevant, but like...fitting all of that in would have been crammed and we’d lack the emotional depth. Chapter Two is about the Losers, and the sacrifices that were made were there so that we could really focus on the Losers and their relationships with teach other and their experiences. It makes me sad that Bill doesn’t get his positive relationship with Audra, that they’re not shown to actually love each other, that he’s no longer wearing a wedding ring in that last scene with the phone call with Mike, but god. If they had had Audra and Tom come to Derry, it would have muddled the story more than it’d flesh it out. So not worth it to waste a single moment on that, as much as I wish Tom still got killed by It because it’s what he deserves. I almost wish that Bev’s relationship with Tom had been changed, but idk what I’d change it to. Including the abuse was rough, but at least it wasn’t as severe as in the book? It couldn’t be, anyway, because again, he doesn’t follow her to Derry, so he can’t be quite as evil as he is in the book or it’d be incomplete to expect her to just...leave him. Aaaaand Eddie and Myra. I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY CAST THE SAME ACTRESS AS MYRA AND HIS MOM. It’s completely book accurate, there’s that bit of narrative where he acknowledges that looking at a younger pic of his mom next to one of Myra and they could be twins, but damn, that casting choice. I feel bad for Myra, in all incarnations. A character meant only to be the embodiment of an oedipal complex...or, the projection of one? However you’d say that.

Bill & Bev: a whole bullet point just to say, thank god they didn’t sleep together, that one little memory based kiss and move on? THANK YOU. And that kiss worked, not like the wtf so awkward kiss between Bill and Bev at the restaurant in the mini-series. Also not driving home the “Audra looks like Bev.......” thing. I’m cool with that. Though I still think it’d have been hilarious if they’d cast Bryce Dallas Howard as Audra.

Beverly: I was talking to a friend about the first movie a few months ago and she said she hated how Bev was made into a damsel in the first movie, needing to be rescued...and I can get that, but compared to the book and the 1990 series, Bev gets SO MUCH MORE and I love her so much. I love that she’s pushing them to keep fighting against It in the first one, and that in the second she’s supporting the others still and encouraging, and in the final battle moments, she’s never a damsel. It’s just when she was in the deadlights. The scene with Mrs. Kersh was fucking insane though. Like, hugely increased budget from the first movie, and....they choose to spend it on a naked granny monster????? TWICE???? I feel like that scene could have been legitimately creepy but then NAKED. GRANNY. MONSTER. I have nothing deep to say on that scene but I’m so baffled.

CGI and the Monsters: On the note of the atrocity of the naked granny monster...it must say a lot about what Andy Muschietti is afraid of that he includes these weird, gross CGI monsters. Also I feel like he’s afraid of old age, between the Mrs. Kersh monster and the focus on Mr. Keene’s old-ness. But like...the leper and the naked granny monster are both just really weird and gross, but not like scary? I mean, the leper being a physical representation of infection is specific to Eddie, and it sticking it’s tongue down Mrs. Kaspbrak’s throat is truly utterly disgusting, but...again, the horror of it is grossness, not scariness? And god the fucking naked granny monster just kills me because that scene would legit be scary if not for that. Instead, multiple times I’ve heard people in the theater whisper “what the fuck” during that scene.

The Losers Fighting: Possibly my biggest complaint about the two movies is the choice to have the Losers have big fights. For Dramatic Movie Purposes I get it, I guess, but in the book as each Loser joins, that’s it, there’s no question, fate is clicking into place, they are meant to be together. So the fight after the House on Neibolt in the first movie has always bugged me. Mike lying to them bugs me. Them being like, “fuck this I’m out” bugs me. However, the ONE concession I’ll make on this point is that at least the fight in the first movie was used in the second as an excuse to show new flashbacks. But the lack of unity is always gonna make me sad about these adaptations.

Pennywise: I am NOT saying I want more Pennywise in the movie, but I think that there is a slight plot hole in the way that his motivations and his effect aren’t directly addressed in the films. Like, including the Adrian Mellon murder without including the whole thing where it’s relevant to It because It’s evil seeps into Derry and is an integral part of Derry makes the scene make less sense. Though, again, I’m cool with them not including Derry just completely falling apart when It dies because of that connection, bc that’d be too much time not about the Losers. But, yeah, motivation wise, it doesn’t feel clear why It wants the Losers to come home. Knowing in the book that It experienced fear and then true anger for the first time, that It wants revenge, makes the ultimately Dumbass Move of luring them back at least make some sense.

Richie: I’m gonna try to focus on Richie things that don’t necessarily relate to Reddie first. I was super unsure about Bill Hader when I heard about his casting at first, because I’d never seen him do the drama I knew the role would need, but damn. He was a perfect Richie, from the comedy to the holy shit drama pain. And it’s a bummer that the whole cgi thing was needed (though, like, it was, because Finn Wolfhard does not look the same anymore) because I’d like to see the more nuanced version of his performance of the arcade scene and stuff. I’m so grateful for the depth given to Richie with the closeted storyline, as much as it hurts. This movie let (some) characters have some actual depth and it’s wonderful. Let’s see... I kind of hate that there was still the fatphobic focuses in the story as a whole, but like...those lines only coming from the trashmouth was at least appropriate. And his delivery throughout his whole bit with Bill outside the Neibolt house in Chapter Two about Richie said it best last time, is delivered so perfectly and I love it, particularly, “You’re lucky we’re not measuring dicks?” Excellent job, Bill Hader. And even though, as I said above, I am no fan of the Losers fighting and Richie trying to run off, the part where Ben says “at least I got Richie to stay” and then Richie bursts out of the back of the hotel to sneak off is way too funny to me. Him not writing his own material is kind of hilarious. And it goes in with a theme in the movie where the Loser’s adult success is a little bit tainted, which isn’t necessarily the case in the book - other things are off, no children, marrying their parents, etc., but their success doesn’t really have anything off about it. Book Richie finally does perfect his voices and that’s how he makes his money. But I’ll accept him not actually being great at comedy (not that the bit we saw at the start of the movie was great comedy) for the set up of the joke of Eddie saying “I FUCKING KNEW IT!” also oops mentioned Eddie. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ So why not go there now!

Eddie and Richie: I didn’t think they’d actually fucking do it. I saw a still of young Richie next to the R+ on the kissing bridge, and Reddies freaking out about WHAT IF, and I was like “that’d be cool but lol no they won’t actually do it.” But then they ACTUALLY DID IT. I’m grateful I saw the movie at the first possible showing because I DIDN’T see the still with young Richie where you can see the full R+E until after, so it was a surprise. This is again where I applaud Bill Hader’s performance, and the directing and script writing and all, because all of those little moments where Richie is just attuned to Eddie are so great. He’s always been the one Richie focused on most for jokes (defense mechansim!), but then calling out for Eddie every time there’s potential danger and they’re separated - when the bat wing fortune cookie is attacking Eddie, in Neibolt when the spider-head monster is temporarily gone, when the balloon starts inflating after the ritual and they’re moving apart. And then of course we have the whole end, his desperation over wanting to save Eddie, his inability to accept that it’s over. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck! And god, like, he seems to just forget to even care about the whole Pennywise thing once Eddie’s hurt, he’s like “we gotta get him out of here” ignoring the “we still have to deal with this fucking clown” part of it entirely. On the lighter note though...the bickering! I LOVE THE BICKERING SO MUCH. In both movies, even during serious conversations, there’s so often Eddie and Richie bickering in the background (as well as main scene bickering, of course, like the hammock, or Richie teasing Eddie about getting married, his mom, his job, etc). In Chapter Two you can hear them bickering about Eddie saying he’s got these various ailments and Richie saying it’s in his head and he just reads shit on the internet while Bill and Bev talk about life, and down in the sewers Eddie has to pick on Richie bringing an actual token and they bicker about how that’s not gonna burn well neither will the inhaler. I LOVE IT. Also, in a story so focused on mirroring the past, Eddie should have kissed Richie out of the deadlights like Ben kissed Bev, that is all. I love every single thing about the scene with the three doors, but I especially love how those dumbasses, once Pennywise is no longer reaching for them, suddenly stop finding the dog behind a door deep in the sewers/cave/whatever suspicious??? They’re like, oh look this is fine, what a cute puppy that randomly made it down here??? What even, and I love it. The hammock scene is ridiculously adorable and Richie’s little sigh when Eddie’s sticking his foot in his face, so great. I have a lot to say about Eddie’s paralysis in the face of Richie being attacked, but honestly I feel that’s more Eddie than it is Reddie related so I’ll get there later, but Richie being the one to encourage him in this totally sincere way and then make the fat joke about Myra...in character af and a really charming scene despite the fact that, again, I am not a fan of fat jokes? That is just the language these two idiots speak. A moment of sincerity cannot possibly be left alone. And on that note...

Eddie’s Death: okay that “paragraph” was very long so I’m making a separate bullet point for this, at least as it relates to Reddie. I could just quote line by line and be like “oh, shit, my heart” but that isn’t really relevant. Overall, that’s my sentiment as Richie is trying to save Eddie and so focused on him. But this is more about the “I fucked your mother” bit. I saw a lot of people upset about that, and others seemed to understand that it’s not a throwaway joke (like the post I JUST reblogged, but I was thinking about this before). Dumb jokes and bickering is their love language, duh. And I think in those moments, it legit made the most sense for Eddie to say “I fucked your mother” to Richie, the king of inappropriate your mom jokes (at least in reference to Eddie - I fucked your mom, Eddie’s mom’s vagina on Halloween, smells worse than Eddie’s mom’s slippers, etc.). I’m working on a theory that not only is that a communication of love/the importance of their relationship (like, he makes the effort to make that joke when he’s fucking DYING, something specifically for Richie), but about comfort. Dunno if it’s about comforting himself in the face of knowing he’s dying, or comforting Richie, or both, but...honestly, falling into a familiar pattern after all of this sincerity and fear just came pouring out of Richie makes perfect fucking sense to me. And, there’s also nearly a solid 2.5 minutes between cutting away from that scene and Richie running to join them in the final takedown (and tearing It’s fucking arm off, which is amazing, and I love Bev’s little shocked face right after that happens). There’s room for conversation, for sincere comments, if you want to imagine them there. But I’m not disappointed they didn’t do any real “I love you” moments or something, because I think we got a very in character and appropriate response. And I’ll say again, Richie’s anguish and denial, holy shit, my heart hurts.

Eddie: Eddie Kaspbrak, my love. I was saving Eddie for last because I have so much to say but idek how to say it. I don’t know why, but I wasn’t expecting adult Eddie to have the same hyper, angry energy of kid Eddie, let alone an amped up version, but I LOVE THIS SMALL, ANGRY MAN. James Ransone was brilliant casting. When he was first cast (not that I knew who he was), I was like, eh he looks alright, we’ll see. But watching him in action and watching Jack Dylan Grazer in action, damn, they are well matched. And their eyes are very alike. But more than the physicality, just in general, damn he was a great Eddie. I’m not super solid on how well he matches up to book Eddie’s characterization overall, but if I see a major overlap in book and movie Eddie in any book scene, it’s when Eddie sprays his inhaler at the giant eyeball and just flips out: ““Fight It!” Eddie raved at the others. “It’s just a fucking Eye! Fight It! You hear me? Fight It, Bill! Kick the shit out of the sucker! Jesus Christ you fucking pussies I’m doing the Mashed Potatoes all over It AND I GOT A BROKEN ARM!”" But anyway. Movie Eddie. I love his angry bravado, because you KNOW so much is bravado. That one post that says Eddie has small dog syndrome is fucking legit. Eddie is hilarious throughout (again, kudos to James fucking Ransone), but then the emotional scenes? Oh my GOD the emotional scenes!!! Eddie has moments of fear but still mostly maintains that bravado until the spider head thing attacks (even before it attacks Richie specifically, you can tell he’s pinned to the wall in fear). And after Richie is saved, and Bill comes to yell at him, BOOM the emotion kills me. That shield is gone and he’s just back to a scared little kid, and there’s such an emotional realness to the rest of his scenes (except when he’s bickering with Richie, of course). He’s scared and he’s hurt. And the way the Losers support him through that - Richie talking Eddie up to encourage him, reminding him all of the ways he’s been badass so far, and the entire interaction with Bev “This kills monsters” “Does it?” “If you believe it does.” His face, the gentleness of that scene, it kills me and I love them so much. It’s just a beautiful moment. Also beautiful on the other end of the spectrum is Eddie psyching himself up to save Richie this time, dammit, “IF YOU BELIEVE IT DOES! BEEP BEEP MOTHERFUCKER!” And then his face! Actually, his face when he first sees Richie in the deadlights is worth mentioning, and his “holy shit!” and then happiness after (you know, until THAT happens). IT GIVES ME FEELINGS. Ummmm let’s see, oh, I fucking LOVE that they referenced the gazebo line holy shit! Imagine being Jack Dylan Grazer and having your improv from when you were 11/12 become not only one of the most iconic lines in the first movie, but get referenced in the second!!! For mirroring kind of purposes, when they go down the well, Eddie is the one to mention grey water first in both movies, love that. Also love that in the first movie he has the line about how 89% or whatever of home accidents happen in the bathroom, then he gets stabbed in the bathroom. Which, like, that scene? Again, he is so fucking FUNNY. The initial shock of “HOLY SHIT HE JUST GOT STABBED IN THE FACE” fights with “HIS RESPONSE IS SO DAMN FUNNY.” His faces all the way through to “you should cut that fucking mullet, it’s been like thirty years man” is GOOD. SHIT. I love Eddie Kaspbrak so much. Also the delivery of “what the fuck!” after the leper run in as an adult. Oh, and speaking of the leper, Eddie Kaspbrak saves the fucking day by helping them understand how to actually fucking kill It, the way he almost actually killed it earlier. He’s fucking dying and he has this realization, this way to help them, and I’m just gonna be a broken record of I LOVE EDDIE. And I love James Ransone’s portrayal (and Jack Dylan Grazer, for that matter, since I am talking about both movies kinda though mostly Chapter Two).

...and that’s more than sufficient for now.

#It #it chapter 2 #it chapter two #idk if random people wanna read my thoughts but why not tag it just in case #since I have legit spent hours typing this thing up for mostly just me!#it spoilers #like duh

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yaachtynoboat711 · 5 years

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Fonder Ch.1

A/N: It’s finally here! Welcome to the series premiere of Fonder. Apparently, y’all were excited as hell for this series, which forced me to write my ass off and force myself to stick to angst. This is definitely going to be much longer than At First Glance was. If you have any feedback, please free to talk to me in either my asks, my messages, or in the notes. Don’t forget to reblog and like!

Warning(s): Angst, Our faves separating, a few typos(?)

Word Count: 1.6K

June 20, 2014, 2:37 PM

Manhattan, New York

New acting endeavors and opportunities called for Winston to decide to make the move to Los Angeles. The success of his Law & Order: SVU episode made him a hot item for more exposure (as it should’ve). With a few more days until his big move, he wanted to show his girlfriend Khalida the final draft of his talent agency contract. Though she wasn’t by any stretch an entertainment lawyer, she understand the deceptive language of contracts and how to counter the finesse. So much so that the final draft of the contract was actually the sixth draft. No one was bullshitting Winston Christopher Duke and his career as long as she was “Black and breathing” as she always said.

She entered his Manhattan apartment as she always did: ringing the doorbell as she unlocked the door with her key. Before she could announce herself , she was sidetracked by the various moving boxes that littering the apartment floor. Pictures and posters that sat or hung throughout the apartment were packed up, making the main room feel much bigger than it was. The furniture had already been sent to his new space in Los Angeles. Winston walked into the living room to meet his girlfriend.

“Hey, you.”, Winston said as he stepped over two boxes to pepper her lips with two kisses.

“Hey,Mr. Hollywood! I didn’t even know your place was this big. You look like you’re ready to go today.”, she laughed as she returned his kisses, “You got that final draft for me?”.

“Of course.” He ran back to his room and returned with a thick stack of papers.

She rested her elbows on the kitchen counter carefully read every page of the contract,occasionally shaking her head or making comments to herself.

“Perfect. Gone ahead and sign. I also came to turn my key in. I’ll be in court when you leave so I came to say that I’ll miss our New York/D.C. weekend excursions and complaining to you about these cold ass days.”, she noted as she looked down and toyed with her keys.

“Well, funny you say that. I was trying to figure out how to ask…”

She sat up from the kitchen counter. “Ask what, Chris?” She helped herself to the second to last Naked Green Machine juice in the bare fridge.

“Ask if you could move in with me?” Silence.

She choked on the juice. Her eyebrows furrowed and a corner of her lip drew into her mouth as though she was processing what Winston just asked her.

“Move to where?”, she responded.

His face turned. “Khalida, be serious. For once.”

“For once?! Fuck you mean for once? You the one asking stupid ass questions and you’re telling me to ‘be serious for once’? On muvas, you trippin.”

“Excuse me? I’m the one asking stupid questions?”

“Hopefully, you’re the only person I’m talking to right now. I can’t move, Winston. We’ve gone over this, yet you don’t wanna listen. What happened to us maintaining the long-distance relationship?”

Winston pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. “Because…”, he began, “I feel like this’ll be easier for us to stay together and bond.”

She stared at him with a confused look on her face. “So what the hell have we been doing for the past seven months then? Hmm?”

“I just feel like we can take our relationship to the next lev—“

“—We just started dating. You’re talking about the next level and we’re barely in through the first level. It’s not gonna happen,Chris.”, she shrugged. He walked across the room closer to Khalida.

“Why not,Yaa?”, he exhaled sharply.

“I can’t leave D.C. right now, Chris: I just started my career! Hell, the ink on the lease hasn’t even dried completely, Kimya and I finally are gaining some clientele, and even if I weren’t just starting a few months ago, California’s the last state I’ll ever move to. At least in my right mind.”

“What are you saying?”, Winston scoffed.

“Honey, lemme break it down for you: I’m a lawyer. In order to legally practice law, I have to be barred in insert state or commonwealth here. While there are a handful of states that have a Universal Bar Exam, Cali ain’t one of them. The California State Bar is the hardest bar exam in the country and I’m simply not taking that shit. You’ve decided as an actor that the best move for you and your future is to be closer to the action in Los Angeles. My work is in DC; moving would defeat the purpose. I can’t just stop what I’m still figuring out for someone else.”

He shook his head, “So this has to be easiest decision you’ve ever made, I see. Choosing your career over us? Is this what you’re doing?” He paced the floor.

Khalida pushed off the kitchen counter and walked closer to Winston, “First off, don’t ever do that. You have a career to nurture and grow and so do I. I’m not your possession. Pussy don’t pay the bills,Wins.”,she hissed.

“You still didn’t answer my question, Khalida. Are you choosing your career over us?”

“Why can’t I? Apparently, you’ve done the same and it’s no issue for you. I can’t just drop my career and my purpose for no reason at all. You know what? I gotta catch my train in an hour. Traffic’s a whore, y’know?”

Khalida walked towards the front door, stepping over the moving boxes in her path. Sensing her sincerity, he began running behind her.

“Khalida, if you walk out of that door, consider us done.”, his shaky voice commanded.

Her head whipped around. “Come again?!”

“I said...if you walk out of that door, Khalida, consider us finished.”

Khalida’s bottom lip quivered and tears began falling down her face as she slowly closed the door. Still facing the door, she inhaled deeply. She slowly turned around walked towards Winston, who was now standing in the former dining area. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. Afterwards, she held his hands in hers, placing her key in his palm.

“What’s wrong, baby? Wh-What are you doing? Don’t do this to me, Khalida, please. I love you so much.”, Winston pleaded. His words choked him and he sensed an unsettling feeling come over him. The conclusion.

“I’m so sorry. We need to take some time to ourselves and build our careers and ourselves up. We've gone too fast in such a small window of time. I think for the preservation of us that we should take a break.”, she cupped his face into her hands.

Tears began to well up in Winston’s eyes, “A break? I thought you said you’d be here for me every step of the way.”

“Here isn’t exclusive to the physical, Wins. No matter what happens, I’ll always be here and here.” She pointed at his forehead and heart. “Moreover, you need to be there for yourself. This is what you were made to do. I’m still gonna cheer you on. Plus, I’d rather the plane malfunction on the ground than 10,000 feet in the air.”

The latter part of Khalida’s words hit Winston like a ton of bricks. She said the exact same thing back in New Orleans after Carrie disclosed their inevitable separation. Carrie and Khalida’s words replayed in his subconscious all the time. He never wanted to think about separating from the love of his life. Moreover, he didn’t want to think about how easy it was for Khalida to let go so easily (or so he thought).

Before she walked out of the door, she turned around one last time. “Is this truly what you want,Winston?”, she asked softly.

Winston pondered on her question. He didn’t want to let go. He couldn’t let go. But if it meant saving their special bond, then by all means. He nodded with hesitation. She reluctantly accepted his non-verbal response.

“Okay.”, her voice broke barely above a whisper. She turned around one final time and walked out of the door. “We’ll be back together, I promise.”

When she closed the door, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Seven months worth of memories quickly replayed in her mind. The intimate moments stuck out more. The realization of their end hit her like a truck. “Oh, God.”, she said to herself as her hands rested on her knees to keep her from falling over. Her grief overwhelmed her; the tears released and so too her anger. She was angry with herself for allowing a stupid prophecy for separating them. Before she could allow her spirit of lamentation to further consume her, she ran down the hallway to the elevator.

He was incensed. He was mad at everything and everyone. Mad at Yaa for letting a suggestion tear them apart. Mad as hell with Carrie for even fixing her wicked mouth to even suggest a separation in the first fucking place. Mostly, he was pissed with God for allowing any and all of this to happen. Tears quickly fell from his face as he too lamented over his sudden loss. There was now a void in his heart. He held on to what was left of Yaa: her key. Suddenly, he shot up from his seated position on the floor and chucked the key at the wall. All of the anger,hurt, and confusion went into that one throw. He fell to the ground as his pain grew stronger.

Carrie was right: it was doomed to happen, but only time would tell if absence would make their hearts grow fonder.

Taglist:

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#thefonderseries #winston duke x oc #dukeandthedoctor #winston duke imagine #winston x yaa

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buckitybarnes · 5 years

Text

The Number 25 [2]: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Assigned to protect you for 25 days, Bucky lets his brooding side show. He lets you know that he absolutely does not want to be here, he doesn’t like you, and most importantly, he wants nothing to do with the holiday cheer surrounding this month.

Warnings/Themes: violence/mild gore, Mentions of death, angst, fluff, Bucky gets a kitty, humor, profanity, Bodyguard(ish)!Bucky, lots of christmas/new years/holiday references.

Author’s Note: The amount of fucks I give have dropped to 0. Errors/spelling mistakes have not been looked for.

Last Chapter

Buy me a Ko-fi?

Chapter 2: Your what?

Quickly and efficiently, you chop the carrot on the board, humming a soft tune while the TV plays in the background.

An annoying series of knocks ring out from the door. Only one person can make such a racket, and you choose to ignore it.

Another round of knocks and the sounds grow louder, disturbing the peace in your apartment. You groan, trying to hold in the rising irritation.

And when you let a few more minutes go by, the knocking stops. You release a slow breath.

And then the door bursts open, pieces of wood, plaster, and paint fly by and dust the ground. The bang causes you to yelp in surprise, the knife you were holding falling and barely missing your socked foot by a few inches. With a trembling form, you back away from it, whipping your head up to look at your intruder.

He’s not much happier than you, blue eyes blazing with rage and annoyance. “I know you heard me,” he barks, pointing a metal finger in your direction. “Rule number one: anytime I knock? You answer. You can check the fuckin’ peephole for all I care but don’t ever leave me hanging like that.” He chucks a paper bag he’d been holding onto the floor before stomping up to you.

“Are you insane?” you squawk, gesturing toward the entrance door which barely hangs by the top hinge. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, asshole!” He doesn’t notice the tears pricking your eyes. He’s too busy regarding the mess that he made. You try to calm your breathing, try to push aside the anxiety bubbling up from within you. The loud noises only reminded you of the incident. PTSD was a bitch.

When Bucky looks up, you quickly turn your back to him, shielding your frightful expression.

“I’ll get somebody to fix that…” he sighs, clearly underestimating his own strength. “Sorry.”

“Why are you even here?” you mutter. “I don’t have work until 10 today.”

Bucky spots a broom and dustpan beside your kitchen island and takes initiative. As he sweeps, he answers you in a tired tone. He didn’t get much sleep last night, as per usual. “And I have to stop by the tower before then for some reports. I don’t want you walking alone.”

“I’ll be just fine for one day, big guy, the place isn’t that far.”

The scuffing of bristles pauses for a brief moment before continuing much louder. Through his agitation, you understand why some of the strands begin to break as he sweeps.

Bucky scoffs. “I was hired to keep watch. I’m not failing on my third day.”

You roll your eyes, picking the knife back up and dropping it into the sink. It’s been three days since he became your bodyguard. Three days of bickering, long walks to and from work (driving was too risky, apparently), and constant worry. Bucky certainly didn’t make things any easier. He was a raging nut-case, and you were sure he’d bite your head off if given the opportunity.

“Then I guess I’ll have company on the way to work then,” you grumble. You plop the carrots into the broth and use the ladle to stir. That is until a hand covers yours to stop it. Surprisingly, his calloused palm is warm against the back of your hand. You can only watch in confusion and awe as he lifts the ladle, your hand still in his, and blows on the broth to cool it down. He takes a sip and for a split second, you can see a rare smile on his lips.

“Breakfast?”

His gruff voice shakes you out of your stupor. “Lunch,” you respond, yanking your hand grumpily away from his and shaking the ladle over the sink as if it had a disease. “For the week I guess. I don’t go out to eat often. Can’t afford to.”

Bucky hums in agreement, turning to empty out the dustpan into the trashcan. “Seems about right.” What a low blow. “Save some for me?”

“Well, I would’ve been willing to if not for you breaking down my door and subtly throwing shade at me.” You glare daggers into his broad back before covering the pot. “So, no. None for you.”

He doesn’t give you the reaction you expect. Instead of his usual grimace, he smirks cockily, leaning against the counter and shaking his head at you. “What’a shame. I brought doughnuts to share and you can’t even give a poor boy some soup. Any coffee at least?”

“First of all.” You point accusingly in his direction. “I know you get a shit-ton of money as an Avenger, enough to afford some soup, fix my door, and pay five year’s worth of rent if you wanted to.” When he shrugs, you furrow your brows. “Second of all, the coffee’s three cabinets to your left, make yourself useful and get it yourself.”

As you finish up the soup, Bucky pours two cups of coffee, mixing in cream and sugar for the both of you.

You’ve been to the tower multiple times now, but you can never get used to how spacious and advanced it looked. You follow a few steps behind Bucky, watching the busy workers scramble around in awe.

It’s the first time since you’ve met that you and Bucky have a moment of silence as you walk. He guides you through hundreds of halls, turning every which way and at some point, you have to wonder if he was leading you around in circles. You don’t have much time to dwell on that thought because he eventually stops at a large intersection. A circulation desk stands before you, and a busty woman with an obnoxious smile flutters her eyelashes at Bucky. He, however, seems less than disinterested.

“Reports, Darlah?” he asks, metal hand outstretched towards her. Almost theatrically, she leans over the desk and plops a file-folder onto it, giggling when he pulls back rather quickly. He mutters a quick ‘thanks’ before opening it up to read.

You can’t help but snort at the exchange. Bucky may have hated you, but he certainly didn’t like this lady any better. Still, he tried his best to stay professional around her. “HI, I’m [Y/N],” you introduce.

A little annoyed, and a little more coldly, she eyes you up and down. “Your girlfriend, James?”

He glances between you and her before rolling his eyes. “That depends on how much you’d hate that.”

“Oh, I’d hate that very much,” she sneers unsettlingly.

Despite his back to you, you can almost see the smirk on his lips. “Then yeah, she’s very much my girlfriend.”

Your eyes widen. “Excuse me --”

“And we’re in love,” Bucky interrupts. “Sooooo madly in love, Darlah.” He turns toward you, a dreamy smile covering up his hidden anguish. “Ain’t that right, Darlin’?”

Oh fuck it. He’s gonna owe you one after this, and you weren’t going to let him forget it.

“Absolutely. Madly. In. Love.” You growl through gritted teeth. When Bucky leans in for a cheek kiss, you subtly tilt your head away, hiding your threat behind doe eyes. “Don’t push it,” you whisper. His tiny smirk kills you inside.

A sharp chorus of barks causes Bucky to stiffen as he follows you into the building. You were a kennel worker, and he still wasn’t used to the idea. How could you be so calm when all of these animals were constantly screaming for attention.

It was nice inside, at least. You kept things immaculate and organized. Different from the last time, each kennel had a stocking hanging in front of it with the dogs’ names. He’s learned to remember each one and their unique traits.

Jimmy was a shaking chihuahua, tan and a bit chubby. He acted three-times his size, challenging anyone that towered over him. Yet, whenever you approached and allowed him to sniff you, he’ll take you for his new best friend.

Geraldine was a large, bulky Rottie. Despite the stereotypes, though, she was the biggest sweetheart anyone could ever meet. She was tranquil and barely spoke. Her little nub of a tail wiggled whenever you made eye contact with her.

Minnie and Bandit were a pair of bonded poodles who loved to give kisses and would hop right into your lap without hesitation. Bucky was a victim of their slobbery attacks. They seemed to love him most. While you were working, he’d spend a few hours in their kennel especially.

But Rex? Rex was his absolute favorite. The massive Chow-chow was always ready to zoom around in the backyard, pulling whoever was on the other end of the leash in tow. Still, even when he was strong with the volunteers (and Bucky), he always treated his stuffed animals with care. He would never hurt them, and if you tried to take them away from him, he’d whimper and cry like a little baby. Bucky downright loved him.

There were a few more dogs that resided here in this kennel, and Bucky knew them all. They seemed to come and go every other day, and he doesn’t dare forget. It’s something you can appreciate about the brooding soldier.

“No,” you call out over your shoulder without having to look back. You internally curse at Bucky, seeing him toss a bit of his donut into Rex’s cage. “If he has diarrhea, you’re cleaning it up, asshole.” Bucky simply laughs and tosses you a thumbs-up.

You go on about your daily routine, feeding one dog after the other and overseeing operations as volunteers come to walk them. Meanwhile, Bucky’s in Minnie’s and Bandit’s kennel, scribbling messy doodles of them in his notepad (his professional one for notes, no less). As you wash a few bowls, you can’t help but notice how loud his laughter is, ringing out throughout the building. It was something you never knew you needed until now.

Breaking through that deep laugh is your phone’s ringtone. It clatters against the metal table, earning loud barks from the dogs. You roll your eyes and pick it up.

He never knew when to wait.

As you talk on the phone, you fail to notice that Bucky’s listening intently.

“Yes?” you mutter.

Steve?

“You can’t just call me whenever you want, Ash. I’m sorry but -”

Not Steve.

Bucky slips out from the kennel and leans against it, curiously watching as you pace back and forth in stress.

“No, no. I’m sorry. I’ll be home tonight….You what? -” You frantically wring your hands, glancing up at the clock. Begrudgingly, you sigh. “Okay. I better clean up then.”

When you hang up, Bucky can see the anxiety only grow. Your eyebrows furrow tightly and without having to look closely, Bucky can tell that you’re on the verge of tears.

“Who was that?” He can’t help but ask. You were usually pretty good at hiding things, so whoever was bothering you this much must be a huge asshole.

“My boyfriend,” you answer tersely.

When you turn your back to him, you don’t see the red creeping up Bucky’s face.

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #reader insert #reader imagine #wolf writes #the number 25 #series #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #the avengers #the winter soldier #white wolf #captain america #marvel #mcu #angst #fluff

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flowerfan2 · 5 years

Text

Bound To Be Together - Chapter 13 (9.13)

McDanno, M, A03 A continuous story of Season 9 codas exploring the bond between Steve and Danny as they grow even closer.

Chapter 13 (9.13)

Steve’s still feeling a little shocky when he thinks about his team’s latest close call, even though Tani and Junior assure him that the only lasting effect from their sixteen hours in the hyperbaric chamber was an intense case of boredom. Adam takes the day off, but the kids do seem fine, so much so that by the end of the day they’re demanding that everyone go out for drinks to celebrate a job well done.

Steve, however, is exhausted, and he still has a ton of paperwork to do. He tells the team he’ll meet up with them in a little while, and gives himself a ten minute break to put his head down on his desk before he gets back to work. It’s not something he’s accustomed to doing, but there’s no question that his crazy free dive yesterday has taken it out of him.

And if he’s honest with himself, he’s also avoiding Danny. Danny’s given him time to figure his shit out, but in typical McGarrett fashion when it comes to relationships, he’s still procrastinating. Although he thinks he made a little progress yesterday, finally asking Danny what was up with him and Rachel. If only they had had a slightly longer walk before they found the body, he might have gotten more information. But he’s pretty sure Danny told him there’s nothing going on.

Then Steve had to go and pull another of what Danny will likely call one of his stunts. Danny had hardly protested; Steve can’t decide if Danny refrained because he’s just gotten tired of arguing with him, or if he realized that if Steve did nothing three of their closest friends (and all the scientists trapped on the underwater lab) would be dead. The look on Danny’s face when he pulled Steve back up out of the water, the way Danny looked at him when Steve sat gasping for air… it was hard to decipher.

Danny wasn’t angry at Steve, not like he was when Steve jumped into the stupid sand processing machine to catch a perp. But he was holding something back. Danny’s trying to give Steve his space, Steve thinks, and it turns out Steve doesn’t much like it.

What he wants is his old Danny back, the one that says whatever’s on his mind, that will rant and wave his hands around, that isn’t afraid to raise his voice and argue with Steve. But Steve’s gone and made everything between them awkward, and Steve’s too much of a chicken to fix it.

Even their time with Grace is weird these days. Danny’s overprotective of her, with good reason, but while he’s happy to let Steve see her as well, he didn’t exactly invite him over for breakfast. Danny wouldn’t even make Steve any pancakes. He didn’t even laugh when Steve joked about it.

Steve finally forces himself to pick his head up off his desk and stop sulking. He’s got to actually do the paperwork he talked about, or when Monday comes everyone will know he was making excuses.

An hour or so has gone by when his phone rings. The governor wants a full down-run of the Nostromo situation, and then somehow the conversation turns to the governor’s friend’s nephew who wants to go to West Point and is looking for some advice on the application process and how to get a congressional nomination. Steve doesn’t have a lot of recent information on the subject, but he’s got some friends that might be able to help, and he goes down a bit of a rabbit hole online to find the governor some information that might be useful.

It’s a good way to procrastinate some more. With any luck, the team will finish up soon and he’ll be off the hook, free to go home and fall into bed without anyone having to witness how freaking tired he is.

When he gets off with the governor, he turns back to his case report, and he’s just finessing the language about Junior’s clever use of the rescue beacon (which probably saved his life) when his phone rings again.

“You’re not so old that you completely ignore all texts, are you? Because I refuse to believe it, but I can be convinced.” It’s Tani, sounding peeved. There’s music in the background, and he can hear Junior enthusiastically butchering the lyrics to Bohemian Rhapsody.

“Officer Rey, how can I help you?” Steve says.

“We’re still at Rumfire, bossman, waiting for you.”

Steve glances at this watch. It’s after ten. Oops. “Um, Tani, I’m not sure-”

“Don’t say it. Do not say it. Just get your ass over here.”

“Really, I’m pretty tired-”

There’s a deep sigh over the phone. “You really haven’t read any of my texts tonight, have you?”

He hasn’t. And he has the feeling it’s too late. “I’ve been on the phone with the governor.” This is at least true, although definitely not the only reason he’s still at headquarters.

“I’m sure that’s terribly important. But your BFF is important too, right?”

Steve’s stomach lurches. “What’s wrong with Danny?”

Tani snorts. “At least that got your attention. He’s five sheets to the wind, as they probably say in the Navy, or at least they did back in the olden days. And he won’t leave until you get here.”

“What do you mean?”

“He keeps saying he’s waiting for you. ‘I’m waiting for that dumbass,’ are actually the words Danny used. Multiple times. Emphasis on ‘dumbass.’”

Shit. “But he’s okay?”

Tani sighs, and mutters something that sounds very much like “you’re both dumbasses,” but Steve doesn’t call her on it.

“Yes, Danny’s fine. But he’s totally wasted, and I think you should come get him.”

Steve gets to the bar as quickly as he can, and tries to not wonder too much about what Danny really means when he says he’s “waiting” for Steve. He’s pretty sure it’s not just Danny wanting Steve to come have mai tai’s (although they do make killer mai tai’s at Rumfire).

The traffic is ridiculous in Waikiki, and the crowds of people along Kalakaua Avenue do nothing for Steve’s nerves. He finally makes it through the Sheraton and into the bar.

The place is packed, as it usually is on a Friday night, and it takes him a while to push through the sweaty crowds to find his team. Junior and Lou are sitting at a table, the remains of what look like several orders of kalua pork nachos and shrimp bao in front of them. Steve nods hello and grabs a handful of chip crumbs. He scans the room quickly. “Where’s everyone else?”

Junior points towards the DJ, and Steve squints his eyes. He really doesn’t want to get even closer to the pounding music, but it seems like he doesn’t have much choice.

“Danny’s been asking about you,” Lou says, his face neutral, and Steve wants to kick himself. Did he really think he could ignore Danny and his team wouldn’t notice?

“I know,” Steve says. “I’ll go find him.”

“Don’t forget to put on your dancing shoes,” Lou says, smirking, and Steve just sighs.

When he finds Tani and Danny in the crowd, he can’t help but smile. They’re dancing to that dumb song every beach-side resort in Oahu loves to play, Danny twirling Tani around and then jumping up and down as they cheer “cake by the ocean!”

Danny spots Steve and his eyes light up. He dances over, arms waving over his head like he’s at a middle school party. He sings in Steve’s face, “You’re a real life fantasy, a real life fantasy!”

“Hey, Danno,” Steve says. Danny’s dress shirt is rumpled, and his eyes are wide and bright.

“Dance with me, Steve,” Danny says, shimmying up close and then grabbing Tani by the arm to bring her into the circle. “Dance with us.”

He can hardly say no, even though he can’t rival Danny and Tani’s excitement. Steve grins at the two of them, and does his best to play along, letting the music take over and move his body.

Steve’s not sure how Danny knows all the words to the song. He blames Grace. But it’s surely not Grace’s fault that Danny keeps throwing flirty looks at Steve while he twists and turns, all head tilts and shoulder rolls. “Let’s lose our minds and go fucking crazy, ah ya ya ya, I keep on hoping we’ll eat cake by the ocean.”

Finally the song ends, and Steve swings an arm over Danny’s shoulders. He’s sweaty and warm, and his thin shirt is damp. Steve would really like to just hug him tight and breathe him in, but he can’t. Not here, not now.

“Time to go, partner,” Steve says, guiding Danny back towards their table. Thankfully Lou and Junior are getting up, and Tani’s putting on her jacket, clearly indicating that the party is over.

“I waited for you,” Danny says plaintively, and Steve allows himself a little half-hug with the arm he’s still got wrapped around Danny.

“I know, buddy. I’ll drive you home.”

Danny seems pleased with this, and practically giggles as Steve shuffles him out of the bar. He’s really drunk, drunker than Steve has seen him in a long time, and is leaning heavily on Steve.

Steve exchanges a look with Junior that he hopes communicates something along the lines of “how did you let this happen,” but Junior doesn’t seem to quite get it. Getting wasted in a very public, very tourist friendly bar isn’t really the right image for Five-0, and somebody should have done something about it… Steve pushes away the thought that the somebody in question was supposed to be him, and concentrates on making sure Danny doesn’t mow over any pedestrians as they make their way down the street.

Steve is hoping Danny will sober up a little by the time they get back to his house, but he still seems pretty out of it as they go inside.

“You should go to sleep, Danny,” Steve says, as Danny pauses in the foyer. “I’ll get you some water. Sleep it off, you’ll feel better in the morning.”

Danny gives Steve a challenging look and shakes his head. “I’m not tired. Let’s watch a movie.”

“I don’t feel like a movie, and it’s late.”

Danny pulls away from Steve and flops down on the couch, patting the spot next to him. “I’m not asking you to hike the Himalayas, Steve. Just watch a movie with me.” It’s the least you can do, Danny seems to be saying, after blowing me off tonight.

“Fine.” Steve gets them each a glass of water first, and then joins Danny on the couch. Danny’s got the remote in his hands, but he hasn’t even turned on the television.

Steve’s about to take the remote and try to move things along, maybe rewatch a nice familiar Marvel movie, when suddenly he’s got a lap full of drunk Danny.

“I’m tired of waiting, Steve,” Danny says. He’s straddling Steve, pushing him back against the couch. His hand rove over Steve’s chest and shoulders, making his skin tingle. “I’m tired of playing ball.”

Danny leans in and kisses Steve, hard and desperate. Steve can taste the liquor on his breath, and he moans as Danny thrusts firmly against his groin.

“Danny,” Steve says, his mind spinning. “Danny, no…”

Danny sits up, still pressing down on Steve’s rapidly growing erection. “No, what, exactly?” Suddenly Danny doesn’t seem quite as drunk. “No to us? I asked you to think about it, Steve, I didn’t think you’d need to take a sabbatical to figure it out.”

“No to…” Steve struggles to find a way to do this without pissing Danny off permanently. “You’re drunk.”

“And you know how I feel - I’m not the one with a consent issue,” Danny replies bitingly. “You’re sober as fuck. So what’s it gonna be?”

“Danny…” Steve wants to tell Danny how he feels, he really does, but the words just won’t come.

Danny sighs, the fight going out of him. “Give me something to work with here, Steve. I miss you. And I was so goddamned scared yesterday. What you did… not many people can do that. You’re not a kid, you don’t train for that now. There was a good possibility you weren’t going to make it up, not alive. I couldn’t stop you, but, dammit, I was so scared. When you finally broke the surface,” Danny swallows hard, and meets Steve’s eyes. “I love you. I don’t want to wait any longer to do something about it.”

Danny’s voice cracks, and Steve can’t take it anymore. He lunges up and catches Danny’s mouth in a kiss, hands clutching at his shoulders. Danny gets a hand in Steve’s hair and tugs, and then they’re frantically shedding their clothes and scrambling for a more comfortable position on the couch.

“I wanna blow you,” Danny says, scooting down and nipping at Steve’s hip. “Let me blow you.”

Steve mumbles out his assent and then Danny’s mouth is on him, hot and wet and if he was a little younger, he’d be coming already. But Danny slows down and takes his time, sucking the tip and then sinking down, doing something amazing with his tongue and then rising up and doing it over and over again.

“Fuck, Danny,” Steve groans, as the pressure intensifies. “Danny, I’m…”

Danny just looks up at him, eyes wide and mouth stretched, and Steve finally comes in a burst of pleasure that nearly whites him out. When he recovers, he flips them over, nearly knocking them both to the floor, and gets his hand around Danny’s throbbing cock. With his other hand he works over Danny’s nipples, kissing up and down his neck and collarbone.

Danny is letting loose a stream of profanities, his hands squeezing Steve’s ass as he writhes underneath him, hips thrusting and stuttering as he gets close. When he finally comes with a low moan, he goes almost limp, except for one arm still wrapped tightly around Steve’s shoulders.

Steve finally extracts himself and goes to the bathroom, returning with a wet towel to clean them up. But Danny is fast asleep, and no amount of cajoling will get him to move off the couch. Steve covers him with a blanket and plants himself in the armchair for the night, not wanting to leave Danny alone.

He realizes, as he sits and waits for exhaustion to overtake him, that he’s still not really sure what’s up with Danny and Rachel. Steve’s pretty sure that in this case, actions speak louder than words. He just hopes he hasn’t made a mistake.

#H50 #9.13 #episode coda #mcdanno #my fic

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