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hero-dwelling · 4 months ago

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They should have shown Izuku's dreams for a future agency, and they should have shown Izuku's students love him.

The "ew, Izuku is a teacher, that sucks" rhetoric from the grossest people online would not be so tiresome, aside from how it hurts hearing that if you work in education and perpetuates the dumbing down of the general population, if the manga did more to show Izuku was loved as a teacher.

And the fact he was now a teacher instead of running his own agency may be more accepted if we had seen earlier that, perhaps, Izuku really didn't have as much of a handle as he should have to structure an agency that was feasible and not just an overly idealistic dream.

Show Izuku's Students Love Him

Let's start with "show Izuku's students love him."

We get just the bare minimum, with Kota still appreciative of his big bro. And we see he is really good at educating, informing, and encouraging a potential future student like Dai.

But when Aizawa deflates all of Izuku's confidence, even snarky over-confidence, about being a good teacher, we really lack any evidence to know who is correct, Izuku for celebrating how well he is doing as a teacher, or Aizawa for pointing out how his students are getting arrogant and may walk all over him.

I know a future film, the anime adaptation, or a light novel story could answer these questions; however, as I will keep repeating, such important information should be in the main story proper, not in a tie-in work that the story is advertising at you to get your dollars to get the rest of the story.

The last chapter needed to show us how well and how poorly Izuku does in teaching, not leaving it to Aizawa to offer his biased opinion. (There are numerous excellent posts on Tumblr right now showing that Aizawa is not one to talk about poor teaching practices--and we kind of needed to see what Izuku does well and does poorly to understand why Aizawa, who did manage to help his students time and again, is correct in his assessment of Izuku.)

In other words, show us class activities Izuku does--and how much the students love them. Show the flaws, too: maybe it's cringey that Izuku does show up in his old Pro Hero costume, or his stories of the past come off as nostalgia because he peaked too soon. But keep going back to how the students appreciate him regardless--that is why he is here, that is why he should be here, he is really good at this work, and what he does will help these students in the future.

Show Us What Kind of an Agency Izuku Wanted to Create (and Why It Would Not Have Worked)

Showing Izuku is appreciated as a teacher would also make us understand why he still feels emptiness. It's not that the job is not fulfilling, it's not that it doesn't have manageable hours and decent enough pay, it's not that he is not appreciated by coworkers and students, it's not as if other Pro Heroes are not also teachers--but is not the same as being a Pro Hero, it was not his childhood dream, it is different than what he had hoped to accomplish.

Granted, it also would have helped if Izuku's dream had a bit more specificity and groundedness, something also lacking a bit in All Might's professed dream to Nana. In other words, I kind of wish we had scenes of the students planning what their future agencies would look like. Maybe that happened in one of the light novels and I missed it. The scene I imagine is Izuku having his plan laid out for what kind of an agency he would like to have, then all the other students jumping in, showing how much thought they all have put into it, the strengths and flaws to Izuku's plan compared to those of his classmates, whether it would be local work or national or international work, how big a staff, which kinds of emergencies he would specialize in.

And, speaking personally, you'd need someone to say what someone (wrongly and poorly) once said to me about the career plans I had made:

"You got to kill that dream, it's not realistic, it will never happen."

(That is still some of the worst advice I ever received and was offered in such an awful manner--goddamn, it's a dream, of course it is idealistic, just focus on what works in the dream, not throw all of it out.)

You need to prep the audience for the potential that, while Izuku has the superpower and the planning skills to get close to what he desires, he may never get all of it or even accomplish some of it perfectly. That way, the audience has that seed of doubt about whether Izuku will achieve that dream (which, in Chapter 430, he does not), or whether he will once again defy the odds, as he has before, hence setting up a mystery. It lets the story still deflate the audience that Izuku didn't get to what he hoped for, but it also kept the mystery around long enough.

Plus, it allows for worldbuilding (which kinds of agencies are out there), adds some much needed academia to this story (career planning), and establishes Izuku's strengths (he can plan for an agency) and weaknesses (he is so idealistic he may overlook practical limitations as to how well a staff could work together).

And as a bonus, maybe have a guest lecturer for that day of the agency planning exercise: Tenya's brother Tensei. Vigilantes showed Tensei is probably the best out there at coordinating a Pro Hero agency of people whose superpowers have little or nothing to do with his own and are instead there to make up for what he lacks or to build on what he and his team do well. If anything could take what worked in Vigilantes, do some lore-dump in the main series, and reference another story as an advertisement without sacrificing enough info to still keep the audience informed on just what they need to know, all of that is a win.

#my hero academia #izuku midoriya #spoiler #spoilers #mha spoiler #mha spoilers

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contentloadingandstuff · 7 months ago

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Hello, my friend! How was your birthday?

It was very underwhelming IRL to be honest. I got many well wishes from you guys, which I am very grateful for! Sadly, this day felt like any other. Most of the time and attention was devoted to the two guests - my uncle, his wife and two baby daughters. No surprise there. We ate a formal dinner (with dishes that I felt meh about, decorated with the images of the kids spitting out food which made me extremely uncomfortable; I am very easy to disgust), I got my cake and aside from that literally nothing. I also had to attend my friend's birthday because, although it was in March, he decided to throw a party yesterday. Attending someone else's celebration on your own special day doesn't feel good, especially when you are very introverted and stray from such events. Oh, and the party kinda sucked too because the guy didn't organise anything except an empty training room, music and alcohol. I knew basically two people out of twenty, stayed as long as I needed and got the hell away from there.

I'm not normally craving attention. Morye, I tend to make myself as invisible as possible. But wasn't this supposed to be my big, long anticipated day? The only occasion in the year that is officially dedicated to me? And it all felt like just another minor event. Yeah, there's a guy, give him cake and you're donzo. The only gifts I got were cash. Of course - cash is nice as it gives you freedom, I'm not complaining about that. What I'm complaining about is the lack of interest and effort put in by my family. They could have gotten me something small but customised and just deducted the price from the total they wanted to give me.

For example: Instead of giving me 250 PLN, they could have given me 200 PLN and a Vision keychain from AliExpress for like 50 PLN, delivery included. You know, to show some interest. But no. It feels bad because I always make sure to get anyone I give the gift to something small of this sort. Like, I got my mom some spa vouchers, but also a scratch poster "100 things to do with mom" to make it more personalized. But nobody puts the same amount of effort into my gifts. And if they do, it's always because they asked straight away what I wanted and it was no surprise.

It just feels lonely. Hard to explain, but all of this made me feel forgotten, sort of. Hah, look at me, raising my expectations from the rock bottom only to encounter no positive response. I guess I'm just destined to get the bare minimum.

Or maybe I'm being ungrateful. Probably just that to be fair.

#contentloadingandstuff

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jellyjimmy · 2 years ago

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summer luck

jimmy/dutch

@ogcobrafest

ao3 link

summer before sophomore year, johnny decides plain bikes are too childish for them.

“we’re gonna be in our second year of high school,” jimmy remembers him proclaiming one evening, “we need an upgrade; something that’ll really show these bitches we’re cobra kai.”

after ruling out cars on the notion that there’s no point in each of them buying a car, and then skateboards on the notion, “what the hell makes you think skateboards are any better than bikes, tommy,” the answer seems to materialize before their eyes: motorcycles — a motorized upgrade of what they’re used to, and something their parents wouldn’t bother throwing a fit over.

after a bit of begging for money and a whole lot of arguing over what brand, what model, and, hell, even what color, they pick out their bikes together; then the journey begins.

it’s fun, if not a bit grueling, but despite johnny’s clumsiness; bobby’s nervous nature; tommy’s apparent death wish with how careless he is; and dutch’s… well, nothing, their shortcomings never become genuine downfalls.

however, it takes them a bit over a month of practice before they can even think about riding in front of the public eye… as a group. see, jimmy’s just plain bad, the worse of them all; he’s rarely ever kicking off properly, and when he can, he’s never balancing enough to go more than a few feet.

jimmy is their downfall. no one is labeling him as such, but he knows. when everyone’s cruising for what feels like miles ahead of him while he’s stuck in the dirt — elbows and knees skinned half to death — it’s not something he can ignore.

yet, strangely enough, dutch of all people is always the first one there when jimmy falls. he’s always the first one to throw his helmet in the dirt (if he’s even wearing one to begin with), and the first to rush to jimmy’s side. he’s the person tasked with patching up jimmy, pushing bobby aside with the insistence that, “i know what i’m doing, man, falling off bikes was my childhood!” — something jimmy finds hard to believe considering how riding seems second nature to him.

and if jimmy were honest, the attention is overwhelming; never in his life had he been on the receiving end of such raw displays of empathy, and it being from dutch — the one who picked and prodded at his insecurities the most upon joining cobra kai — made navigating a response towards these actions so much more difficult.

he’d spent so much of his past longing for attention like this. present day, however, jimmy can only barely spit out, “thank you,” before mentally collapsing under the pressure he’s built for himself.

he wishes he could say more, he always intends to, but then dutch is responding with, “quit it with the sentimentality — you’re not dying, are you now?”

(jimmy supposes he should praise his luck for being regarded as the silent one — he gets away with the bare minimum, even when he doesn’t want to.)

and dutch patches him up with unwavering care every time, handling jimmy like he’s a porcelain doll instead of a boy who attended classes at the most brutal dojo in the valley; a boy who has taken what seems like a million falls onto asphalt in the last week alone.

he wipes jimmy’s cuts down with alcohol, always giving a mumbled warning about the incoming pain no matter how many times they’ve repeated this routine before. then, with shaky hands, he applies bandaids as smooth as he can over jimmy’s torn skin. these sessions always end with dutch’s heavy eyes boring a hole into jimmy’s soul, and sometimes — if jimmy is lucky — a chaste kiss on the last bandaid applied, followed by the usual cocky grin.

(lucky? why would that be a reward of jimmy’s luck?

lucky?

fuck.)

but eventually, when school rolls around in late august, jimmy can finally, and consistently, ride without falling. everyone celebrates the night jimmy falls zero times, his ears ringing from screamed praises and arms covered in red handprints from loving slaps — he swears bobby even tears up a little bit.

and when jimmy gets a moment with dutch alone, all he sees is dutch’s wide, goofy grin before being pulled in towards his chest.

“don’t get any better at riding,” dutch teases. “i’ll miss playing nurse for you too much.”

the first day of their sophomore year kicks off with fiery excitement, the confidence flowing through johnny palpable to everyone in the whole valley. stares linger on them when they enter the parking lot; dutch, who rides next to jimmy that morning, bathes in the attention like it's his sole source of energy.

jimmy never really gets to the point the others are at — where they can speed faster than what seems fathomable, or stand up in the middle of riding to get that extra rush of adrenaline — but jimmy can ride, and that’s all that matters.

he’s covered in bruises half the time, from karate and soccer and the fall off his motorcycle he has at least once a month, but dutch is always there to patch him up; dutch is always there to kiss him better.

#whew finally posted this bad boy #do i love it? not exactly #is it still so beloved to me? yes.#the karate kid #karate kid #cobra kai #og cobras #og cobra fest #ogcobrafest #jimmy karate kid #dutch karate kid #bobby brown #johnny lawrence #tommy karate kid #jimmy/dutch #dutch/jimmy #mine #writing

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on-maars · 3 years ago

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The Getaway

Just another buddie fic, 4k, hope you’ll like it :)

Read it on AO3

Eddie is seated on the couch, his eyes barely glancing at the TV broadcasting an old episode of Friends. He turned it on a few minutes ago, hoping it would take his mind off things. He’s probably watched that episode a dozen of times already but anything is better than the big, gaping hole in his chest and the turmoil of feelings banging against each other in his head.

It’s a quiet night. Christopher’s already in bed and Buck just left a few minutes ago. For his date. With Taylor. His new girlfriend.

And it’s fine. It’s great, even. The timing is just not right. Or maybe it is. Maybe Eddie’s just the one who took too much time to realize what was right in front of him. Maybe Eddie’s just the one who messed things up. It wouldn’t be the first time, after all. He’s used to it, by now. In fact, he only seems to get better at it as the years go by.

“Why are you looking so sorry for yourself?”

It’s his Abuela talking. She just came back from the kitchen with an herbal tea in one hand and a plate with a few biscuits in the other. It’s nice – Eddie thinks. Spending time with her. After everything that happened, it’s a relief to have a comforting presence in the house, aside from Christopher.

And Eddie told Buck it was fine. He told him he could take care of himself for a few hours while he’s on a date with Taylor but Eddie’s just glad his best-friend didn’t take no for an answer and called Abuela anyway. Because the truth is, it’s not fine. The truth is when nighttime falls and darkness slowly settles upon the living-room, nothing distracts him from the wormhole of fear and despair that is his mind.

“Nothing, Abuela.” He says. “Don’t worry about me.” He adds, and gives her the most convincing smile he can muster. But his Abuela’s no fool. Eddie can pretend alright throughout the day, tell easy lies, fake smiles, anything to avoid any awkward conversations, anything to avoid talking about what really matters, at heart. Eddie’s good at it. He’s been doing that for years, in fact. But the quiet of the night makes it harder to pretend.

Still, he says:

“Everything’s fine.”

“No it’s not, nieto.” His abuela answers, patting him a few times on the cheek. “Does it have something to do with that boy of yours?” She asks, and Eddie chuckles lightly, lowering his eyes to the ground. The tightness of his chest only intensifies, as it always does when conversations get too close to the truth.

“He’s not my boy.” He only answers, squirming uncomfortably on the couch, ignoring the way his shoulder screams his pain at the movement. He winces but closes his eyes fiercely, letting the warmth of Abuela’s presence comforts him.

“But you wish he could be.” She remarks and Eddie rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed.

He’s never been really good at it. Talking about his feelings. Talking about what’s inside him, about what’s important. And he doesn’t really know how Buck managed to bypass that shell, he doesn’t really know how Buck managed to weave its way into the cracks of the wall Eddie erected around himself along the years but it’s too late, now. He let him in. He let him in and Eddie’s never felt so vulnerable.

“It doesn’t matter.” He says after a few seconds. “He’s happy.” He adds, and looks down once again. “That’s all I want for him. To be happy. And if that means watching him with her, then I-” He sighs, and marks a pause. “It doesn’t matter.” He repeats.

He gets up from the couch and takes a few steps in the living-room, the cup of herbal tea long forgotten. He doesn’t go far, though. His abuela’s voice echoes in the house before he has the time to make it to the kitchen.

“Of course it matters, Eddito.” She says, her voice calm and soft. “You need to talk to him.”

“And what good would it do?” Eddie snaps, looking up at her. “To tell him?” He adds. “Look, abuela, I- I love you, alright? But let me handle this. Please.” He says, uncapping a beer and taking a sip, his back leaned against the kitchen counter.

“If I let you handle this, you’re just gonna bottle it all up and ignore it.” His abuela says and Eddie’s tight on his beer bottle tightens. “He worries about you, Eddie.” She adds.

Eddie whirls his head around and frowns. “He told you that?”

“On the phone.” She confirms. “That boy was ready to cancel his date to spend the evening with you, nieto. You’ll always be his priority. You and Christopher. You’ll always come first. Whatever he’s got going on with that reporter of his, it’s not gonna last.”

Eddie chuckles a bit at the dismissive tone of his Abuela. He shakes his head and puts his beer on the kitchen table. “Her name is Taylor, Abuela. She’s actually kind of n-”

The next few words die in his throat as he hears Buck opening the door, quietly, keeping the noise to a minimum. Buck gives him a warm smile and kisses his Abuela on the cheek before taking off his shoes next to the doormat and dropping his keys on the kitchen table like he always does. And that’s just another thing Eddie can’t help but notice; how comfortable Buck is around his house, wandering around and making this space his own, fitting in a way no other person did before. Not Ana.

Not even Shanon.

Eddie smiles back at him softly, and ignores the knowing look of his Abuela.

She takes a few steps towards him and pats him on the cheek another time, pressing a small kiss there. “Tell him.” She whispers against his ear before disappearing in the living-room.

---

Turns out his Abuela is right. If handling it means sulking and watching Buck as he gets more and more comfortable with his relationship with Taylor, then Eddie’s pretty sure he’s doing a great job. In fact, if the tightness of his throat and the tenseness of his chest occurring every time he sees Buck and Taylor together are any indication, Eddie would even say he excels at it.

“You know you don’t need to throw daggers at her every time she’s around.” Hen says quietly next to him one day, while they’re all reunited in the Grant-Nash household to celebrate his first day without a sling. “Like, I’m just saying. If you want to pretend like everything’s alright then at least be better at it.” She says.

Eddie sighs and starts scratching at the tag on his beer bottle. “What do you want me to do, Hen?” He asks. “He’s- he’s happy.”

Eddie looks up at Buck and watches him as he wraps his arm around Taylor’s waist, bringing her closer while he discusses something with Bobby near the barbecue, and from the way his hands keep motioning to the air around him, whatever his best-friend is saying seems to passionate him a lot.

A few seconds later, Taylor presses a small kiss to his cheek and moves away from them to join David and Michael. And Eddie doesn’t like it, the way she managed to weave her way into the 118 and their extended family in just a few months. He doesn’t like it but that’s just the jealousy talking so he sucks it up and plays it cool instead. He makes small talk. He laughs at her jokes. He’s polite. Maybe a bit too much, at times. But he’s trying. He’s trying while still making sure to keep his interactions with her at a minimum.

She’s not making it easy for him, though. No. She keeps coming. Over and over again like she’s trying to prove a point. And Eddie doesn’t know if her trying so hard comes from a place of real thoughtfulness or simple willingness to please Buck, but the thing still remains that she makes him happy. And if his best-friend is happy then Eddie doesn’t mind carrying the pain a bit while longer.

“Eddie?” Hen asks, her eyebrows raised and Eddie whirls his head around, bringing his attention back on his friend.

“Sorry.” He says apologetically. “I was- thinking.”

“I was just saying. It’s not gonna last.” She says and Eddie scoffs, remembering the words of his Abuela.

“Ditto.” Chimney adds, interfering in the conversation.

“You do sound sure of yourselves.” Eddie says, his eyebrows raised.

“Look, Taylor is awesome. But she’s not good for him. He’s different when he’s with her. Less free. Like he’s trying to perform.”

“Just like you with Ana, really.” Chimney adds, his mouth full of crisps. “Because you’re just two idiots who need to have everything spelled out for you.”

“Because you’re an expert in relationships, now?” Eddie asks sarcastically.

“Clearly I’m not.” Chimney answers. “But that’s just how embarrassingly obvious you two are.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie only says, throwing a crisp at Chimney’s head.

Hen looks like she wants to keep arguing but the next second, Buck jogs over them and takes a seat next to Eddie, pacing a comforting hand on his arm. Eddie smiles softly at him and nudges him playfully, finding comfort in Buck’s warm presence.

“You okay?” Buck asks, his voice soft. “How’s your shoulder?” He asks, worried.

“I’m fine Buck.” He answers. “Pretty sure they wouldn’t have removed the sling if I wasn’t.” He adds playfully.

“Yeah yeah I know.” Buck smiles at him and marks a pause before adding, more seriously: “Just wanted to be sure.” He moves his hand from Eddie’s arm to his shoulder and trace small patterns on his exposed skin with his thumb. Eddie’s heart soars in his chest.

“So Buck.” Hen starts and from the tone of her voice, Eddie knows she’s up to something. “Everything’s okay with Taylor?”

It seems like a harmless question, an easy one that should come with an easy answer. Something Buck could dismiss with just a few words. Especially with Taylor only a few feet away from them. And that’s why Eddie’s surprised to hear the next few words coming out of Buck’s mouth.

“Yeah I-” Buck starts but marks a pause. “I don’t really know to be honest.” He says honestly and Eddie frowns.

“How come?” Chimney asks, throwing a pistachio nut in his mouth.

“She’s great.” Buck instantly answers like he’s trying to prove a point. “She really is and I like her but I’m just not sure if we want the same things you know. She’s- She’s very focused on her career, it’s always- it’s always gonna be her top priority and I’m never going to get in the way of that, I think it’s awesome but… Well, call me old school but I- I want a family.”

“You do have a family.” Eddie finds himself saying without thinking. A small smile breaks in on Buck’s face and he chuckles slightly, lowering his eyes to the ground.

“You know what I mean, Eds.” He adds.

I do – Eddie thinks. And I want it all with you.

“She doesn’t want kids?” Hen asks, and Eddie can’t help but exhales a small sigh of relief as Buck shakes his head slowly, his shoulders slumped down. Because that’s a deal-breaker for his best-friend and Eddie knows it.

“And that’s okay you know.” Buck adds. “I’m not gonna try and change her mind. That’s her choice. But I just can’t pretend to want the same thing. I want kids. And I know there’s already Christopher but I- I want something real.”

“This is real.” Eddie says before he can stop himself. And maybe he said too much. And from the snort Chimney lets out the next second, he realizes that yes he probably did, but Buck is watching him with so much attention Eddie finds it physically impossible to look away or force his mind to focus on something else than Buck’s eyes, eyes that seem to pierce through his very soul.

They shuttle back and forth, as if performing an internal scan of his face, until something eventually seems to click in Buck’s head and a flash of realization crosses his eyes. And just when Eddie expects his best-friend to say something, reject him awkwardly or express his confusion, Buck just gets up from his chair and walks away. Which – okay, Eddie definitely wasn’t expecting that.

“Okay what just happened?” Hen asks.

“This was either the weirdest interaction I’ve ever witnessed or it’s just another one of their weird non-verbal communication.” Chimney answers.

“Well if it was, he was definitely talking to himself because I’m just as lost as you are.” Eddie intervenes, his eyes still fixed on Buck, watching him from afar. His best-friend whispers something against Taylor’s ear and she just nods, following him inside the house.

“Did they… Did they just leave?” Chimney asks, his eyes wide.

“Said it was an emergency.” Maddie nods, stepping outside the house, a confused expression plastered all over her face. “Looks like he had just seen a ghost.” She adds.

And this just leaves Eddie more confused than he was five minutes ago.

---

When Eddie goes back home with Christopher, it’s already quite late in the afternoon and Eddie’s now standing in front of the stove, trying his very best to follow his Abuela’s chicken soup recipe to the letter. Cooking’s never really been his area of expertise and he’s pretty sure he’s just going to mess it all up like he always does but he promised Christopher he would try, and it doesn’t matter how much his son grew, Eddie’s still unable to refuse any of his favors.

Buck would usually be the one cooking. Eddie usually just sits there, watching him and making sure he doesn’t forget a step from the recipe. Tonight is different, though. Buck’s been unreachable ever since he left that gathering and Eddie’s just too damn scared to take his car and drive to Buck’s loft.

“I don’t understand why Buck isn’t here, dad.” Christopher says, taking a few steps inside the kitchen. “He’s late and it’s movie night. He promised me we would finally watch the first Harry Potter movie. I even prepared the DVD. When is he coming?” He asks and Eddie lets go of the spatula, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“I don’t know, mijo.” He says.

“Well why don’t you text him?” Christopher asks and Eddie quickly takes his phone from his back-pocket, checking his messages for what might be the tenth time in an hour. Nothing.

“I did.” Eddie says. “But he’s not answering at the moment. He must be busy.” He adds, and his chest tenses. Because maybe Buck did understand what Eddie was trying to say back there. Maybe he did and maybe him walking away and leaving the house is just the way for him to make Eddie understand that nothing can ever happen between them. Maybe his Abuela, Hen and Chimney were all wrong, maybe Eddie did manage to ruin the best relationship he’s ever had in his entire life. Maybe that’s just another thing he can add to the list of all the things he failed.

Eddie shakes his head and takes a deep breath, biting his lower lip and holding back the tears already gathering in his eyes. “Get it together, Diaz.” He whispers to himself and stirs the soup that definitely doesn’t smell the same way than when Buck does it.

“But hey, it’s still fun if it’s just the two of us, right?” Eddie manages to articulate through gritted teeth.

“Yeah I guess. But he’s probably just late, dad.” Christopher says behind him. “He’d never miss a movie night.”

Or maybe he’s just not coming – Eddie thinks, but says nothing and nods weakly at his son instead. Christopher keeps smiling at him without a care in the world, his eyes fixed on their door, probably only waiting for Buck to finally step in. And that’s when Eddie realizes how badly he screwed up. Because he didn’t only ruin that relationship for himself, but most importantly he ruined it for his son. His son, who he knows sees Buck as another father figure. His son who loves Buck just as much as he does. What is he gonna tell him? That he was too weak to keep his feelings for himself? That he had to go and find a way to destroy the most stable relationship they’ve had in years? He can’t do that.

But just when his brain is about to spiral in endless direction, the door finally opens and Buck steps in, a huge smile on his face, the same cheerful, bright and sparkling attitude.

“Bucky!” Christopher exclaims, running towards him and wrapping his arms around his shoulders once Buck is squatted down in front of him. “You’re late.” He says with a reproachful tone.

“I know, I’m sorry buddy.” Buck answers apologetically. “I just needed to do something very important first. And then I went to the bookshop to buy this for you.” He adds, and Eddie watches him as he takes a book about space from his bag. “Look. The lady from the store told me it was a really good one.”

“Thanks Bucky.” Christopher only says, his eyes already scanning the different pages.

“I bought one for me too so we can discuss it together!” Buck says with a large smile and Eddie knows he’s just as excited as his son to start reading that new book and that’s enough to bring a small smile to his face.

“Dad was afraid you wouldn’t come.” Christopher says out of the blue and Eddie suddenly feels very small, and exposed. Buck looks up at him and smiles softly, ruffling Christopher’s hair before standing up.

“Are you kidding?” He says with his eyes wide, looking affronted. “I’d never miss a movie night with my favorite Diaz boys.

“That’s what I told him.” Christopher replies, nodding his head energetically. “But he can be very dumb sometimes.” He adds and Eddie lets out a small chuckle, his right hand gripping the edge of the table, so tight his knuckles go white.

His brain is working too fast for his head to catch up and he has no idea what’s going on but then Buck takes a few steps towards him and cups his cheeks with his hands to press a small kiss to his forehead and well – that’s enough for Eddie to lose all his composure. He wraps his arms around his shoulders and hold him close, burying his face into the crook of his neck, inhaling Buck’s aftershave. “I thought I had fucked up so bad I was going to lose you.” He whispers against his best-friend’s skin without thinking, letting out a sigh of relief when Buck only brings him a little closer.

“Yeah to be honest I didn’t really think of how that would look until I was back in my loft with Taylor.” He says and Eddie wants nothing more but to ask what that means but thinks better of it and quickly regains composure when he notices Christopher is still there in the kitchen, his eyes shuttling back and forth between the two of them. “You’re trying to cook, Diaz?” Buck eventually asks after a few seconds, his eyes falling on the soup still warming up in the pan. “Sure it’s a good idea?” He adds, his eyebrows raised.

“Shut up.” Eddie says, tapping him on the neck in a playful manner.

“It’s just that I don’t particularly want to die of food poisoning tonight.” Buck goes on and Eddie sighs, raising his hand in surrender and stepping aside to give him space to cook.

“I’m gonna prepare everything in the living-room.” Christopher says excitedly. “Buck, did you bring the popc-”

“In my bag.” Buck says without letting him finish his sentence.

“And the cand-”

“With the popcorn.” He nods and Eddie rolls his eyes at him, but his lips already start turning up at the edges. Christopher quickly disappears from the kitchen with Buck’s bag in his hand and Eddie leans against the kitchen counter, glancing at his best-friend from times to times.

The room is quiet now, without Chris. Buck is focused on the soup, stirring it and adding the spices, tasting it every now and then to make sure it doesn’t miss anything. Eddie would usually find it comforting, seeing Buck so at ease in his kitchen, but this time it fills him with a fearful anticipation.

“You know, we could have talked about it.” Buck says out of the blue and Eddie draws a sharp intake of breath, knowing what’s coming.

“Talked about what?” Eddie answers and Buck rolls his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief.

“This.” He simply answers. “Us.” He says, and Eddie starts peeling off the tag on his beer bottle. He stays silent for a few seconds, desperately racking his brain trying to find something to say but Buck beats him to it:

“You always do that when you’re nervous.” He says, and Eddie instantly looks down at his hands. “And then you always avert your eyes because you hate looking at people in the eye when a conversation gets a bit too close to the truth.” He goes on and Eddie sighs, putting the bottle on the table and forcing himself to keep his face neutral.

But still, he can feel Buck’s eyes on him and here it is again, the sensation that no matter what he does, no matter how much he tries to hide, Buck will always be able to see right through him.

“I just think it’s funny.” Buck says after a while and Eddie finally looks up at him, frowning in confusion. “You always say you’re not good with words, Eddie, but I never felt like you needed to be. Because your face always says all I need to know.” He adds and Eddie has to physically force himself to hold Buck’s gaze. It’s not easy, though, and he suspects his best-friend knows it because he smiles softly at him the next second, like he’s proud, or happily surprised.

“Yeah well.” Eddie says as an attempt to dismiss the importance of what Buck just said but his best-friend straight up laughs at him and Eddie cradles his chin with his right hand and forces him to look away. “Focus on that soup, Buckley.”

“I don’t think I can salvage your poor attempt at cooking this time, Diaz.” He teases him and Eddie simply rolls his eyes at him.

Buck stirs the soup a bit more and brings the spatula to Eddie’s face, his other hand placed under his chin, his fingers brushing past his skin. Eddie opens his mouth to taste the soup but is so taken aback by the gesture that he needs a few seconds to gather his thoughts.

“It’s- it’s good.” Eddie says, his voice low.

“Of course it is.” Buck answers, unimpressed. “It’s your Abuela’s recipe.” He adds. “It’s nearly ready.”

Eddie nods and lifts himself to sit on the kitchen counter, letting his eyes wander across Buck’s face. His best-friend seems very focused on the task at hand and as he opens the drawer to grab three bowls, Eddie thinks to himself that maybe it’s time for him to be brave as well.

“Maybe now’s a good time to talk about it?” He finds himself asking, with a trembling voice. Buck whirls his head around and looks at him, his eyes a little wider than usual. “Would- would that be okay?”

“Yeah.” Buck breathes with a smile. "Course it would"

“You think- you think that would work?” Eddie asks, his forehead wrinkled in concern. “Us?” He precises. “Is that- is that even a thing I’m allowed to think about?”

“I broke up with Taylor.” Buck blurts out and Eddie looks up at him.

“Because of what I said back there?” Eddie dares asking after a few seconds, his eyes filled with hope.

“Because of what you said.” Buck nods and takes a step forward. “I always know how to read you Eddie and yet until- until this afternoon, I was so far away from thinking that you might actually- that you might be-”

“I’m in love with you.” Eddie blurts out, cutting him off, and he knows he said the right thing when Buck lets out a small laugh and looks down at the ground, smiling sheepishly.

“Finally.” Eddie hears a little voice saying behind him. It’s Christopher talking and he sounds exasperated, and remarkably unimpressed. “I was wondering when you two would figure it out. Carla told me it would happen very soon but I wasn’t sure.” He says, pressing his hands on his face while a small sigh escapes his lips. “I guess she was right.”

Buck’s smile only gets a bit bigger as he watches Christopher in amazement. He shakes his head in disbelief but quickly brings back his attention towards Eddie and leans towards him to press their lips together for what is barely even a kiss because they’re both smiling too big and their teeth keep clanking together. Yet Eddie wouldn’t have it any other way. He brings Buck closer by putting his hands on the back of his neck and sighs in relief when Buck places his own hands on his lower back, tilting his head to kiss him with a better angle.

“I knew you’d be gross like that.” Chris says with a sigh and Eddie chuckles against Buck’s lips. “But that’s okay, I guess. As long as I’m still your favorite Diaz.” He adds, looking at Buck who only smiles a bit bigger.

“You’ll always be number 1, superman.”

“Dad is number 2, then?” Christopher asks and Buck shakes his head.

“Number 4.” He corrects him. “Pepa and your Abuela obviously come first.” He says, earning a small laugh from Christopher.

“Traitor.” Eddie mutters under his breath but Buck captures his mouth another time in a gentle kiss, and Eddie suddenly forgets how to think.

“If you don’t hurry, I’m starting the movie without you.” Christopher says while disappearing from the kitchen.

“Dinner coming right up, superman.” Buck instantly says, turning around to fill the three bowls with the soup, placing them on a tray afterwards. He looks up at Eddie and his hands motion to the air around him, chasing him out of the kitchen.

Eddie gladly accepts and as he takes a seat next to Christopher on the couch, he can still hear Buck busying himself around the kitchen and a bright smile breaks in on his face.

Yeah – he thinks. I can get used to that.

#it's kinda bad #but you know #i tried #buddie #buddie fic #buck x eddie #911 #9-1-1 #evan buckley #eddie diaz

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cloverfics · 4 years ago

Text

don’t settle ; akaashi keiji

warnings nothing really, y/n just has a shitty boyfriend, also not edited

genre fluff, roomates au, college

word count 1.1k

inspo n/a

synopsis in which akaashi outperforms your boyfriend, helping you come to the realization that you should never settle for less

a/n whew i’ve been in a writers block so this an old draft i’ll probs edit in the future but ( hopefully ) starting today through the 14th i’ll be able to jot out a couple valentines related drabbles. cross your fingers y’all 😟

"You're home early," It's not like you wanted to be. It's not like you expected to be either. But the previous events of your hangout with your boyfriend led you back to your shared apartment with your roommate, Akaashi.

He looked over the couch curiously at you. Tearing away from his usual nightly read. "Something happen?" He continued.

You sighed, beelining to plop on the couch next to him. "Boyfriends suck." Is what you responded back to him, your claim being muffled in the material of Akaashi's pajama pants.

Akaashi hummed, his hand being placed on the back of your neck following the soft sound of bis book closing. "What'd he do?" You hated that you've heard Akaashi say that exact same phrase before, but he probably hated it more to say.

"So, you know how we were supposed to celebrate our anniversary, right?" Your head lifted to where your chin was digging into Akaashi's thigh.

The nod you saw out of the corner of your eye beckoned you to continue. "Well, of course, like usual, he forgot that it was today. And that we were supposed to celebrate at our typical diner. So, I sat alone for an hour..."

Akaashi sucked his teeth. "You could've just asked me to pick you up or join you. There's no reason you should've sat there alone." He was right. But you always gave your boyfriend chances. More shots than he needed.

"I know. But then he finally answered back and said to meet and his place. Stupid me, I expected something romantic to make up for the fumbled lunch plans but of course, it was nothing. Nothing but me watching he and his roommates play games. No flowers, no chocolates, nothing."

There was a silence, but in that moment you could tell Akaashi was thinking hard. Most likely jumping between the right thing to say to you. You knew he'd find it, he always did.

"___," Akaashi called for your attention. You answered, shifting your gaze to his face. You despised the skip your heartbeat did when you made such eye contact with Akaashi. Seeing as you had a boyfriend and that he was your long term best friend and roomie. But you couldn't help it. Who could, honestly?

Akaashi was arguably the full package in your eyes. You can't believe there was once a time you saw your boyfriend as the same.

"When was the last time he did something like that for you? Not for an occasion, just out of the blue. Just because he wanted to and because he loves you." Akaashi's question caught you off guard to say the least.

It really made you think, when was the last time he did something nice for you just because?

Your relationship had been so bare minimum for so long that you could only reminisce when he was a good boyfriend.

"A long time. And sometimes even then did I have to tell him the things I wanted. It sucks that it's gone downhill from there." Your voice mellowed out on the final sentence as you came to that realization.

What even was this relationship anymore? And could it be considered that?

"Noted. I'm going to bed." Abruptly, Akaashi made his exit from your venting session and left you lonely on the couch. The sudden leave had you furrowing your eyebrows but settled on the reasoning being that he probably had a class tomorrow or simply, he was sick and tired of your bitching of your sucky boyfriend.

Which, then, he'd definitely have a right to walk away.

You woke up the next morning with your current situation on your mind. Having went to sleep on it as well. What were you going to do? And how were you going to do it? So many thoughts were jumbled in your mind that you couldn't get a clear answer.

Stumped, you were going to continue to think on it. That is until there was a knock at your apartment door that you heard faintly. You furrowed your eyebrows since it was definitely unusual at this hour.

Your feet led you out of your room, before you went any farther, you went to check if Akaashi was in motion but it seemed as if he wasn't. You reached your front door and opened it.

Not expecting to be greeted with a bouquet of hydrangeas. "Uh— I'm sorry... are you sure you have the right apartment?" Is what automatically came from your mouth.

"This is the home of ___ ___? Correct?" The delivery man questioned, checking the card on the flowers.

That led you into a deeper tunnel of confusion. Before you could say anything else, the sound of padding footsteps came from behind you. Akaashi joined you at the door.

"Thank you," he reached around you to take the flowers, without a word you stepped aside as he waved off the delivery man.

There was nothing but the sound of Akaashi locking the door back. If your mind wasn't racing before, it definitely was now.

"Akaashi?" You questioned, eyes following him to the kitchen. It was then you noticed his attire. He was dressed nicely, like usual, but it was still pretty early for him to be clad in such clothing.

"Did you have flowers sent for a girl in my name?" Your genuine question caused Akaashi to snort. You joined him in the kitchen to that he had placed the flowers down with an array of things that ranged from teddy bears to chocolates that you recognized as your favorite.

"Close, but no. I ordered some for you last time. And went out to get this stuff this morning." He pointed to the crowd of things on the counter. You stood in astonishment. For once in a while, your mind was blank.

What was there to think? Your handsome best friend had just fulfilled the easiest task your boyfriend couldn't even perform. And he did it with no questions asked. Just because...

"Why?" You mumbled, edging closer to him and the counter.

"Why not? You shouldn't have to ask or wish for the basics from your boyfriend, ___," his answer garnered a small smile on your face.

"And the fact that you do, just proves there's something wrong." You nodded, taking your eyes from the arrangement to Akaashi's burning gaze.

Your smile widened. "Thank you, Akaashi. I think this is what I needed to finally end things." Finally, you concluded. Putting an end to your rapid thoughts.

"I'm glad I could be of help. Now, do you like the hydrangeas? I was going to go with roses but I didn't want to seem to basic so—" You placed a hand on Akaashi's shoulder.

"I love them, Akaashi."

You didn't know what you mr next step was going to be, but you knew you were done settling for less.

#haikyuu #haikyuu akaashi #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu drabble #haikyu!#haikyu #akaashi x reader #akaashi hcs #akaashi headcanons #akaashi drabble #keiji akaashi #akaashi #akaashi keiji

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nightswithkookmin · 4 years ago

Text

WHAT WILL JIMIN POST ON JK'S BIRTHDAY 2020?

Interesting question. I get why my Askbox is flooded with it. May thirteen was a disappointment. Most Jikookers were looking forward to a reinforcement of a long established Jikook tradition- well everyone except me and a couple others I think. Y'all don't be paying attention. Lol

Jikook are complex beings and like any complex organism they learn to adapt to situations and surroundings. They are predictable in that way but also they are not. It's paradoxical, I know.

If you paid any attention to what was going on from late March through to June you'd have known there was little to no likelihood May 13 was gonna happen.

And if it had happened, it would have taken on a whole new meaning at least to some of us. But hey, 5/8 right? Sure. Jimin smart. We stan a Bigbrain.

Anywho, tomorrow is not about Jimin or Jikook or any ship. It's about JK. It's about celebrating the gift of life that he is. For all the times he's been hated on, this is the only day out of 365 days that we as a fandom get to put our differences aside and come together to show our love and appreciation for him- I hope.

I don't see why Jimin wouldn't do the same for him. Especially since it's been a long established tradition not just for Jikook but for all the members.

They all celebrate eachother's birthday to varying degrees but at the bare minimum they wish each other a happy birthday. That's the norm.

All the other members will wish JK a happy birthday and that includes Jimim. If you understand why people celebrate others birthday you'll understand this is not complicated at all. So it's not a question of will Jimin post tomorrow.

Jimin is a very kind, thoughtful and a loving person. It would be weird of him not to wish his fellow bandmate a happy birthday on his birthday. He would. He should. Rest assured.

But I understand that what y'all are asking me as far as Jikook is concerned and shipping goes is whether Jimin would do something extraordinary for JK this year like he did last year, what he would do and whether he would post about it.

Even though I am certain he will post, I can't tell you what that post is going to be, I'm an alien not Jesus you know?

What I can speculate on is whether or not Jimin would make another grand gesture like that of last year. Which is what this post is going to be about.

The answer to that question is not as simple as yes he would or no he wouldn't. Personally, I expect him to do something a little bit out of the ordinary or coded this year. I'll explain in a bit.

To be clear, I don't expect a repeat of last year or anything of the magnitude of last year at all as much as that would make me uWu so hard. Although... what if he pulls a 360 on us and propose to Jk on his birthday?what? I'm speaking it into existence!

What Jimin did last year was an exception not the norm. You don't fly half way across the world just because. To me that was a grand grand gesture in the history of JK's birthdays and I don't expect a repeat of it unless the circumstances that lead to that moment repeats its self.

The circumstances being that they were broke up and he was trying to fix things. Cough, cough.

JK's birthday last year was an Echo of Manila. A general consensus among Jikookers, is that JK had been mad because Jimin was choosing to spend time with Taemin on the eve of his birthday hence why he had had posted that song knowing full well Jimin would see it as a way to guilt trip Jimin.

If that is right, then Jimin flying over to be with Jk would be a huge statement.

2015 and 2019 are the years that have stood out to me most, birthday wise: Jimin saying he wanted to give JK a kiss on his 18th birthday and him flying from Paris to South K to be with JK on his birthday.

If you've ever heard Jimin talk about money, he is prudent and wise about money. I mean rather than spend millions on a luxury apartment he chose to buy an investment property instead. He is a Libra, I wouldn't expect anything less.

On his vacation trips, he's known to share cost of expenses with the friends he travels with if he's traveling with them. I won't call him frugal though, thoughtful and selective is more like it.

So when he does something of this nature, it's not nothing. He was making a statement period. He was proving something to someone- if you say Army I'll smack the back of your head. Lol

JK. He was proving something to JK. It's always been JK- so help me lord if you say it's Fanservice! It is not. It wasn't for Fanservice.

I've seen people around corners of the internet saying he didn't have to post his Paris video if he was going to go see JK anyway to celebrate with him. That the whole video message thing on Twitter seemed very much private.

I agree with the part about the video seeming private. It seemed personal to me. But it also seemed like the point of that video was to let JK know his location at the time to perhaps throw him off the surprise he had planned for later.

People have argued JM was just pulling a 'prank' on JK with that whole Paris trip to begin with. They were on a hiatus, they had been together prior to JM leaving for France a few days to JK's birthday so it doesn't make sense that they would be broken up at that time period and it doesn't make sense that Jimin will leave for Paris and fly back home only to leave again so it must be a prank.

... Sure. Valid point. However, I don't see Jimin being reckless with money or honestly that shallow. If that was a prank that was an expensive one.

And yes, Jimin didn't have to go on the trip. It wasn't business. It was leisure. I can see how that would be confusing to JK especially when it seemed JM was choosing to spend time with someone, be somewhere else rather than with him on his birthday- yet again. Coughing in Manila.

But sure, I can see how that would be the best 'prank' surprise for JK. Shaking my head. I don't think that was all that was happening with Jikook around that time as I have hinted at several times across my blog posts.

Jikook were broke up around that time, that trip was a grand gesture, Jimin's way to make up with Jk let him know he's learned his lessons. His friends are important but JK comes first. The lightning struck twice for JM and he got a second chance to redeem himself- the definition of GRAND gesture.

If you are a Kpop enthusiast you would also know about the political climate in S.K around that time frame and how it was impacting the Kpop world in general. Certain Boy Bands were under investigation for certain 'offences' I don't want to get into.

On August 11th, one member of such said boy band was arrested- allegedly. I don't know what it had to do with BTS or whether it had anything to do with them at all and I'm not insinuating anything but I just found that impromptu hiatus in August a bit suspicious giving everything else that was going on in S.K.

If 'people' were looking into Kpop boybands then I am certain BTS was on top of that list just because they are the biggest boyband and have been a target of haters for years.

Needless to say, I do not think they were gonna find anything at all on the boys if in deed they had looked but if the boys had a secret- like say two of their members being in the LGBTQ plus community then I assume that secret was bound to be found out?

It is why I believe the boys were asked to lay low in August and that Jikook specifically had been asked by BigHit to tone things down while they navigated the muddy mess of public scrutiny- in my opinion.

I also find it a bit interesting that both of Jikook later that same month and period would be involved in a scandal involving women- But feel free to draw your own conclusions on that however you please. This is just mine: I think that move was straight out of the PR books. Classic Olivia Pope-esque move. Lol

I know some people think it is in the best interest of Jikook to hide their relationship if they are real and that Jikook want to hide their relationship: I disagree.

Just based on my own observation, I don't think they enjoy hiding at all. Especially JK. Well, he did say he didn't want to hide anymore in GCF Saipan didn't he? Can't argue with that.

But also, out of the two, JK is the one who seems the most grounded and sure about their relationship. This is seen best in moments where they've almost been caught. JK's been the least bothered or throw off. Almost as if he doesn't mind if people find out about them.

For instance, when BTS exposed JK for sneaking into Jimin's bed Jimin looked terrified as fuck. He pointed to JK, almost throwing him under the bus but for someone behind the camera asking him to chill, Jimin would have freaked out of his mind.

Then we have that infamous moment when Jimin and JK walked into JK's room and spotted the camera. The look on JM's face said it all. But JK seemed pretty chill about it to me.

Now these moments are relevant because JM was caught unaware. They were both caught off guard and so their reactions were instinctive. By instinct Jimin freaked out which says to me he is afraid to be exposed or outed perhaps because he isn't ready to come out- yet. While JK's reaction on the other says to me he doesn't mind at all if people found out about them which could be because he is ready to come out.

I know what you are thinking and no. That time in the track when they were caught taking photos- JK looked more like he didn't appreciate the invasion of his privacy rather then terrified he was caught. They were on set and so they knew there were cameras roaming around and anyone could stumble on them. They were both consciously self aware of their environment which is why JM was able to make a quick comeback.

I can go on and on about this about this topic but the post is already getting too long.

My point is, Jikook don't like to hide. When you are in love you want the whole world to know. And so often, they fluctuate between wanting to keep their relationship a secret for the sake of their careers and wanting to declare and openly claim eachother.

Keeping their relationship a secret is bound to be stressful on them physically and emotionally. Just because they don't like to be outed don't mean they enjoy hiding.

Their secret is not theirs alone to tell. They have people whose careers depend on them. Their secret is inextricably linked with five other people. People whose careers could end instantly if their secret so much as came out accidentally or even by design.

I don't think either of them is selfish enough to risk that. Not even in the name of love. And this is especially true for Jimin the way I see it. As for JK..... I don't think he gives a shit. Bless him.

This doesn't mean, however, that they don't enjoy teetering the line. It's part of the thrill that fuels their passions- when they get to play at being caught and exposed or just the mere thought they are out smarting the public- fucking exhibitionist!

Jokes aside, I believe there is a sense of comfort and security they get from knowing there are thousands of people out there who enjoy and celebrate their love as openly as they would want to and they live openly vicariously through us.

Our support and acceptance means so much to them. Which is why often you find them reaching out to us.

Being told to lay low even if it's for their own interests would get on their nerves especially for a rebel like JK and Jimin knew this hence why that public display of his affection for Jk on Twitter.

Thus, I do I think JM would make another gesture similar to what he did last year but whatever gesture of he does make one would be unique in it's own way from last year's and would be more of an assurance of his love for JK and a prove to Army that they are fine just because i think they have both been through a lot this year just as he said in the dynamite MV reaction VLive which was rudely sabotaged by Tae.

Jimin seemed like he wanted to have a 'public' moment with JK as explained in my previous post on the Dynamite Reaction Vlive. And given as that moment was interrupted, I expect him to try that again. Whatever message he wanted to deliver it seemed more intended for JK as much as us their supporters.

He has been pretty active on social media lately in the days leading up to JK's birthday. He seems to be gearing up for something. He ain't slick.

So yea, part of me hopes and expect him to do something nice, to make a statement similar to last year's but I cannot ignore also that there's been a lot of eyes and attention on Jikook a lot lately. More so than usual.

Posting something of that nature would single them out and only escalate the situation especially if it is something that makes them both stand out from the others.

For context, I am talking about the heat they recieved as a result of the Dynamite MV. That heat is drenched in homophobia and they and BigHit could care shit about that as I explained in my previous post but you have to understand it can have a negative impact on their mental health.

I mean, NamJoon is constantly being paired with JK a lot lately. It's almost as if he is keeping an eye on Him constantly if you know what I mean. Tae has also been keeping an eye on Jikook, outing Jikook's schemes and shenanigans before they happen like in that Dynamite MV Reaction VLive where he asked JK not to look into the camera during Jimin's solo commentary.

It's understandable. Their interest is as stake too. If Jikook go down, they are going down too. It's daisy.

What I'm saying is, Jikook is being monitored and it would be daring of Jimin to do something as grand for JK openly like that.

But who knows. If it's gonna make JK happy because they've both been through a lot this half of the year then JM would definitely definitely do it. He is defiant like that and he can be a bit of a dare devil when it comes to proving his stance to Jk. He wouldn't hesitate for a second. I love that about him.

Mad respect for him if he does. Mad mad respect for him if he does. But if he doesn't you'd all know why.

In conclusion, I'm saying I'm expecting something more than a happy birthday text from Jimin this year. I'm expecting something more meaningful, deep, coded and uniquely Jikook.

If it happens to be a proposal Ayla you can have all my shmoney! Lol

Signed,

GOLDY

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aces-to-apples · 4 years ago

Text

Written for Day 5: Fluff of Codywan Week 2020 @codywanweek

Here on AO3

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Category: Multi Relationship: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi Characters: CC-2224 | Cody, CT-7567 | Rex, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker Additional Tags: Background Padmé Amidala/CT-7567 | Rex/Anakin Skywalker, Implied/Referenced Future Rexsoka, GFY

For best results please look at this Rex and this Cody before reading.

“tribute”

Another one of the local little chompers marched towards the dais with all the solemnity and determination of a verd’ika plucking their first set of whites off the assembly line. Cody met Rex’s eye and they both very carefully avoided grinning at the sight. Not only could it be bad for their relationship with said locals, it wouldn’t do to let their Jedi think they were, in fact, having a good time up there.

When the kid came to a halt a ‘respectful’ distance away, Cody nodded for them to approach and bent his head to receive the kid’s blessing and subsequent gift. He watched Rex do the same.

The celebration had been going for hours, by that point, and they’d amassed a pile of shiny little wearable trinkets to give any sovereign of Naboo a run for their credits and enough blessings to make them holier than most deities. It’d been a relief, at the start of the night, to hear that—aside from the ceremonial outfits they’d been bullied into wearing—he and Rex were free to redistribute the gifts as they saw fit. Something about sharing luck, or good vibes, or what have you.

Said ceremonial outfits, on the other hand, they were obliged to keep and maintain with honor.

Obi-Wan had smoothed over any offense they’d given with their lacklustre reaction to the news but Rex’s general had been less than subtle in his delight at their new possessions. Tano, at least, had just told them they looked nice and kept her own mocking to a bare minimum.

And it wasn’t that they were grateful, Cody had reflected at the start of the celebration, when he and Rex had stepped out under the light of the moons to deafening cheers, but. It wasn’t quite their style, no matter how well the two of them pulled off the intricate, and admittedly beautiful, get-ups.

Rex, by dint of his Torrent paintjob, had been immediately deemed the locals’ Goddess of War come again and draped accordingly in layers of blue fabric. Some of it was dark and blaster-resistant and some of it pale and so sheer as to be almost nonexistent. Bands of silver, often studded with precious blue stones, were wrapped around his wrists, forearms, biceps, and throat, and a silver cap affixed with yet more jewels and a pale blue veil had been placed on his head with much reverence.

After a great deal of muttered debate, they determined that Cody must be their war deity’s twin, the Goddess of Beauty. Not an insult by any means…

The traditional garb he’d been presented with, by contrast, was deep red with a long flowing cape and headdress of heavy twisted fabric. It came with its own set of jewelry, as well, shining gold and polished red stones, bulky and eye-catching around his wrists and throat and slim and delicate around his forearms and biceps. Something about the placement was culturally significant, but hells if Cody was going to ask what.

They’d already lost the battle against: 1) staying for several days to rest and recuperate, 2) accepting the titles of living incarnations of their local deities and all the celebration that entailed, and 3) keeping both the get-ups and the gifts for themselves.

No way was Cody going to invite more conversation about their cultural practices. He could win against droids and bounty-hunters and half-baked Sith, but apparently, he couldn’t convince a bunch of over-awed, Mid Rim locals that he and Rex weren’t tools of War and Beauty.

Tools of the Republic, sure, but nothing divine.

The leader of the city they’d liberated had just smiled gently and reassured them that belief on their part was not necessary, only acceptance of their gratitude. Which came with lots of shiny metal, sparkly rocks, and a pair of gowns that they had to either accept or throw into a sacrificial fire and publicly reject.

Obi-Wan had stepped in at that point.

He’d assured everyone that they had no interest in disrespecting their culture and asked for a debrief about the ceremony.

Wear the outfits, sit on the thrones, and let people fawn over them at least a little bit, had basically been the long and short of it. But, hey, they were comfortably cushioned, well-fed, and kept hydrated throughout the whole thing, so it could have been worse. Sharp-toothed little ankle-biters shyly kissing their foreheads and handing them shiny bits and bobs before scampering off weren’t much of a hardship.

“How’re you fellas doing?” Skywalker asked, strolling up to the dais with a grin that had yet to falter all night. “Getting into the spirit of the thing? Really feeling the divinity flow through you?”

Plenty vode had wandered over to check on them over the course of the night, mostly to heckle, but the Jedi had visited just as frequently. And for similar reasons, too.

The way Rex’s general had been eyeing him all night, Cody was almost worried for Rex’s safety. He’d heard plenty of complaints from Obi-Wan about Skywalker’s willingness to eat damn near anything; who was to say that he hadn’t acquired a taste for Mandalorian-adjacent flesh and wouldn’t gobble poor Rex up in just a few bites.

He was pretty sure Commander Tano was having some kind of intermittent crisis over at their table as well.

It was his responsibility, as both Marshal Commander and ori’vod, to bring his concerns to his superior officer and then ruthlessly mock all three of them. After Skywalker eventually got tired of making Rex blush and wandered away whistling a jaunty tune to a very raunchy cantina song, that was.

“So does that ‘angel’ of his know the two of you have started sharing blankets since your last stop-over on Coruscant or should I start planning your funeral now?” Cody said archly, watching his vod’ika visibly consider punching him. “I’ll be sure to wear this and lie about how smart and good-looking you are, like a proper vod.”

Rex pressed a hand over his eyes and groaned. “Angel knows,” he admitted, darting an unsubtle glance at his general’s shebs. “What I am afraid of, though, is that next time we stop over on Coruscant she’s gonna have a whole new wardrobe just like this one and it will just happen to be in my size.”

“Well, hey, get a full-coverage veil and you’re probably good to step out with them,” Cody said with false sympathy, gleefully imagining the uproar that would cause. “Just make sure they’re made out of that fabric that’s designed to ruin holos. Pakod.”

The ol’ boy made a sound like a malfunctioning mouse-droid.

“Is it too much to believe that I’d like to spend whatever leave I get wearing as few clothes as possible?” he wailed, quietly, with a desperation that made Cody think this was an argument he and the senator had gotten into before. With this revelation in mind, he snapped a few holos of his own while Rex was distracted and vowed to get them to the senator if Skywalker’s brain cell was too lonely to manage it. “Isn’t it enough that I have this already?”

“Oh, dear me,” a low voice said from behind Cody’s left ear, “I can’t imagine how terrible it must be to have two attractive, attentive lovers who wish to shower you with tokens of their affection. Truly, Captain, your misery must be exquisite.”

Cody turned his head to press a sloppy kiss to Obi-Wan’s cheek in gratitude for the pitiful sound his words had drawn out of his favorite brother.

“General,” Rex whined pathetically, “they keep getting me plants. Alive ones, dead ones, prickly ones, poisonous ones. My quarters are being taken over by non-sentient invaders.”

Obi-Wan made a little noise of patently fake sympathy. “My old master’s quarters were like that as well,” he commiserated, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin behind Cody’s ear. The noise of the locals around them changed in pitch, but Cody’d had enough to drink over the course of the evening to not feel worried by the change. If he was lucky, Obi-Wan would be shoved into a pretty outfit like this next. “It drove me mad that he never formally answered, let alone turned down, any of the suits. Just let the poor, smitten beings keep sending him gifts. So uncivilized.”

“Speaking of uncivilized,” Cody said, wondering if he could get away with pulling Obi-Wan down onto his lap.

Rex rolled his eyes. “If I don’t get to canoodle in public with my Jedi then you don’t get to with yours,” he huffed, leaning over to push Obi-Wan a few inches away. “Leave room for the Force, sirs.”

“‘Leave room for the Force’?” Obi-Wan repeated, nonplussed, while Cody found himself hung up on, “Canoodle?”

No longer quite so flustered, Rex shrugged. “Skywalker talks like a scandalized opera singer, sometimes, and Ahsoka says that when she catches the lads giving each other a tune-up. How’s the kid doing, by the way?”

“Well,” Obi-Wan said ruefully, “she’s seventeen and in the middle of a war and puberty. Thus far, I believe she’s coped by placing you all in the ‘dear friends and family whom deserve her utmost respect’ category of her mind, rather than allowing herself to see you as attractive young men. Tonight seems to be causing some kind of breakdown in that line of thinking.”

Cody turned to give Rex his full attention and clapped him on the shoulder. “Cheers, vod’ika, keep it up and you might have a full set soon!”

In response, Rex covered his face with both hands and groaned again.

“Remind me to send the good captain some appropriate literature about age of consent laws, would you, dear?” Obi-Wan murmured into his ear. He most assuredly was not leaving room for the Force between them. “Until then, I believe you mentioned being uncivilized?”

Cody made a mental note to remind him as requested before standing up, bowing at the local assembly, and following Obi-Wan wherever he led.

#star wars #the clone wars #sw fic #by apples #codywanweek2020 #codywanweek #commander cody #captain rex #Obi-Wan Kenobi #anakin skywalker #padmé/rex/anakin #rexsoka #codywan #skyberrex #vod in a dress

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proudgodot · 4 years ago

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Gratitude

I was not initially planning to post about this, given that my unfortunate tendency to over-share has caused me quite a bit of grief in the past, but the truth is that I simply couldn’t resist this time. Typically when I am overcome by an uncontrollable desire to post it is because I am desperately in need of attention or validation, so much so that I can’t actually remember a time when I posted because I was genuinely eager to share something. It was always out of some perverse and misplaced sense of obligation, but it finally feels as if that burden is lifted. While I was writing this post, it was because I felt a genuine…. pride over something I had accomplished, something I genuinely wanted to share with the world. When I chose the name of this blog I didn’t earnestly expect that I would ever feel anything other than shame about myself… it seemed more an ideal than an actual plausible prediction. I’m just so relieved my wish came true.

Anyway, I suppose that is quite enough navel-gazing for the time being… I can only imagine my followers have probably had enough of that to last a long and fulfilling lifetime. I reckon it’s time to move on to the actual story.

As most of you well know, following the dramatic events of the Kristahlia drama, I suddenly found myself with the new responsibility of parenthood. There are certainly aspects of my new lifestyle that have been difficult to adjust to… principle of which is that I am supposed to serve as a sort of role model for these developing and damaged boys. I have never been particularly aspirational, in fact you would be hard-pressed to find someone as underperforming as me. Although I was prone to overcompensating for such things, always desperately trying to prove that I was capable of as much as the bare minimum, looking back I see that I grew too comfortable with those low expectations. When it registered that as a caretaker I would suddenly have to perform a sort of excellence, not for the sake of my fragile ego but for the betterment of these children… I was immediately overcome by a painful inadequacy. However, as our first week together progressed, I came to realize that in certain regards all of us were personally inadequate, and it was for that very reason we had taken on this responsibility together. Although I certainly had my short-comings, that wasn’t something unique to me, and over time we all began to coordinate better and help manage each other’s weaknesses. I was somewhat surprised to learn this was not only true of the adults, but the children as well. The dynamic we developed as a family was rather symbiotic… I found that regardless of age we all had something to offer each other.

Regardless, I promised myself that I would do whatever it took to keep my found family as distant as possible from my most severe personal issues. My past was something I felt I had to resolve independently, no matter how tempting it was to once again depend on the people in my life to solve my problems in my stead. That is why when I made the decision to start looking into Anton’s whereabouts, I never spoke a word about it to my housemates.

Facebook made finding his account incredibly easy, distressingly so in fact. I became acutely aware of the possibility that he might have been recommended my account numerous times over the years and had consciously chosen not to send me a friend request, which although completely understandable still hurt immensely to imagine. Perhaps my hopelessly romantic dream to reconnect with the man was unrequited, and would be rejected with extreme prejudice if vocalized. Eventually, however, I managed to muster up the courage to actually inspect his profile. I discovered that after our quarrel six years ago and his subsequent transferral Anton had moved back to his hometown in Ann Arbor to complete his degree in art and design. Since graduating, he had been working as a freelance artist and animator… he often posted about how proud of his projects he was, and it was reassuring to see his enthusiasm had not diminished in the slightest over the years. One detail about his profile that immediately jumped out at me was his relationship status, which was currently set to single. Despite myself, I immediately felt a small flicker of hope ignite within my quickened heart. Upon further investigation, it appeared he’d been involved in several relationships over the years that had ultimately ended in failure, although the circumstances were unclear. I only hoped he hadn’t made a habit of dating unappreciative losers…

I managed to quell my anxiety briefly and force myself to send him a friend request, which almost immediately filled me with a sense of mounting dread. My anticipation wasn’t even allowed much time to simmer, because mere minutes after I sent the message I was notified that it had been accepted. Instinctively, I slammed my laptop shut and jumped out of my seat, forgetting that I was incapable of standing up so quickly without losing all feeling in my legs and face planting into the floor. I instantly regretted not taking Addy’s advice and getting that checked by a doctor, because soon enough the entire family was in my room gathered around my body and asking questions with varying degrees of concern and amusement. Although I had wanted to keep my activity a secret, at that moment I was swept away in the drama, and so I began to mindlessly rant about the situation.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but soon enough there were six pairs of hands all frantically scrambling for control of my keyboard. While I laid incapacitated on the floor, my friends had taken it upon themselves to respond to Anton’s messages, each expressing their own thoughts from my account in randomly alternating orders depending on who had managed to prevail in the wrestling. It seemed that Iara maintained the upper hand most of the fight, although it was admittedly difficult to tell over the frenzy at times considering my limited view from the floor.

Eventually, the chaos subsided and everyone turned to look at me with beaming smiles on their faces, some more devious than others. I immediately began to worry that they had sabotaged me somehow, be it in light-hearted jest or in an earnest act of betrayal, and so I asked them nervously what exactly they had done. For a moment it seemed they were trying to contain their excitement, but it didn’t take long for them to erupted into an uproarious celebration, complete with victorious chants that Anton was coming to meet us in person this evening!

I didn’t know how to react. All at once a tempest of conflicting emotions completely overpowered me… and I mean that quite literally. I knocked out cold, and when I finally woke up I discovered that not only had Kyler been trying to shock me awake by applying Takis to my tongue, but that the situation had not miraculously resolved itself. Although everyone else had mostly settled down, my mind was whirling a mile a minute with all of the things I had to do to prepare. I had a whole bucket list I needed to accomplish before I was comfortable standing in front of Anton again… and as much as I hated to admit it, I couldn’t possibly get everything done myself over such a brief time. To my surprise, I didn’t even have a chance to put my reservations aside before they had already agreed to help me based off of my panicked listing of errands alone. Despite my reluctance to involve my new friends in the more turbulent aspects of personal life, it seemed they were actually eager to get involved themselves… I discovered that my problems were not an inconvenience to them, but rather something they were excited to help me work through.

The first obstacle I had to overcome was also the hardest… that being that I had never properly apologized to Gabriella and Lana for my dishonest and frankly abusive treatment. It wasn’t so much that I didn’t have the words to express my remorse or that I hadn’t processed my guilt, but that Gabriella’s parting words to me specifically informed me not to contact her and I didn’t want to once again disrespect her wishes. However, after some words of encouragement from the family, I managed to write a relatively concise three thousand word email taking responsibility for my past actions and wishing the couple well. As I was writing this post, I actually received a response from the two telling me they appreciated my apology and were glad to see I had grown into a more mature person. Apparently they have just finished settling into their cottage and are now doing better than ever. Lana even expressed an interest in meeting Addy and Iara in particular sometime… I suppose it’s a sapphic thing. I’m just glad that they’re finally living the happy life they deserve without being held back by backwards men.

My email took longer to type then I had expected, and although I certainly can not regret pouring my heart into the message given its importance, it did mean that we had to pick up the pace with the rest of the bucket list. Kyler took this quite literally, speeding at what must have been 100 miles per hour towards the mall despite nearly giving me a heart attack and my insistence that he not set such a bad example for Chris and Klav. We actually ended up getting pulled over, but luckily Iara managed to scare the officer away with her signature scowl. The next few hours were a frantic rush of errands, all focused on helping me actually express myself without the burden of repression. There were moments when it was a struggle, such as when I nearly hyperventilated in Claire’s before they pierced my ears, but ultimately I am immensely satisfied with the results. The most fulfilling moment was finally getting the tips of my hair bleached white to match my new profile picture. Chris actually got his hair dyed alongside me, changing his style from pale blond to black and white to reflect his new kin. It was incredibly rewarding to accomplish this alongside him… I had never been the subject of anything but disappointment from my parents, so it was an incredible feeling to be able to experience that absent parental pride for myself, even if it was with a different perspective.

By the time Anton was forecasted to arrive, my appearance had been upgraded to better reflect my current sense of self… all that was left was for me to get in the right mindset. Luckily, my family was perfectly eager to act as my own personal “hype beasts,” as Kyler put it. They offered excellent emotional support in the half-hour we sat in the den patiently awaiting his arrival, especially Addy, who really took my mind off things by offering to play me in a game of chess. I lost quite handedly, but for once I don’t have it in me to be a spoilsport. When we heard that fateful knock at the door, they all immediately ran into the nearest closest and shut themselves inside to give us some space, but not before giving me a final set of encouraging thumbs up. I hesitated for a moment, questioning once again whether I was really ready to take such a big step in my life. My hand paused, hovering over the door knob uncertainly… until I heard the faint sounds of Steely Dan’s Come on Eileen coming from inside the closet, accompanied by the muffled sound of Klav’s giggle. Reignited by the familiar sounds of my favorite musicians, I swung the door open with a new and uncharacteristic conviction.

And there he was… I was immediately captivated by just how strong his presence was. My memories hadn’t done him justice… it really was like I was in the presence of an angel. I was comforted by certain familiar aspects of his appearance, such as his golden brown eyes that glistened like stars, his long curly hair with its comforting strawberry aroma, and his signature checkered scarf that he had been consistently wearing for almost decade now… but what really excited me were those new features. Normally I am turned off by change, but I was positively breathless as soon as my eyes wandered to the golden butterfly tattoo on his exposed shoulder. I felt as if I was going to faint for a second time in one day.

I couldn’t find the words to express the depths of my emotion no matter how hard I searched my impassioned soul... there were no words strong enough. Instead I just cried, and wordlessly he accepted me into his arms… just like he had on that life-changing night all those years ago. I finally told him everything I had so obstinately refused to say during college… that I was gay, that I was in love with him, and that I was sorry. Although I was openly weeping, I don’t think I’ve ever felt more relieved in my life.

Eventually, he managed to pacify me… and so I was able to explain to him the entire story of the Kristahlia drama. It was difficult to explain that I had managed to go from discoursing with these teenage kinnies to adopting them, but he was as understanding as he ever was. He was so excited to meet my family that he even brought his cat Apple all the way from Michigan just to introduce her to them. I don’t think I have ever mentioned this publicly, but when Krissy died I had to take her dog Diogenes in myself, and I was surprised to find that the two animals got along perfectly. It really did feel like the entire house was accepting him... it was as if this was meant to be.

Since Anton had gone to all the trouble of making the ten hour drive to Iowa, he suggested that we might as well all hang out together in Cedar Rapids over the weekend. I suppose it’s a date... I must say that I am looking forward to it, as are the others. I know I didn’t deserve to be accepted by him again just because I spent a few hours shedding tears and profusely apologizing, but for once I don’t feel guilty that I have received something I don’t deserve. I just feel... an overwhelming gratitude for the opportunity.

I am certainly still inexperienced at this whole family business and have accepted that I will inevitably make some mistakes in the future, but I don’t think I’ve done too poorly for a first week, if I do say so myself. I am truly grateful to all the people in my life who have supported me through my journey, who have taught me that it is possible to rely on others without being a parasite and to be relied on without shouldering the entire burden.

To my partners, my friends, my children, and my love... from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

#sincerely adam

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tisfan · 4 years ago

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(I can) Brew this all Day

Title (I Can) Brew this all Day Link https://archiveofourown.org/works/24408346/chapters/58881478 Square Filled C5: Bucky/Wanda Ship/Main Pairing Bucky/Wanda Rating Teen Major Tags/Triggers/Warnings none Summary Wanda works at a coffee shop. Clint does not understand why she’s crushing on a patron. Word Count 1559

for @buckybarnesbingo and @livewire28

“You’re a fright,” Steve complained as she walked in through the employee entrance at Brew This All Day coffee. “Did someone throw a bucket of water at you?”

“It’s raining,” Wanda said, scowling. She knew her hair looked terrible, practically plastered to her head. She’d had an umbrella when she left for work, but it had gotten snatched up by the wind and by the time she chased it down, it didn’t seem to matter. She was already soaked through.

Usually, she kept a spare dress in her work-locker for just such occasions, but she’d had to wear one last week when a customer did a “prank” and chucked an extra large frozen drink at her (with extra whip) so he could film it for his YouTube channel.

Steve had put him on the not-welcome-back list, but it probably didn’t matter. She was sure that the asshole had gotten fifty million hits or whatever and collected his cash from YouTube and he’d go around the rest of the city doing it to other baristas.

Whatever. She was going to have to work in a cold, wet dress and soaking shoes today and her hair was a mess.

“Your boy’s here,” Clint added. “I mean, I don’t get it. I can’t look at a customer without feeling contempt, so the idea of flirting with them really just-- they’re customers, therefore, idiots.”

“You’re an idiot,” Wanda said, trying suddenly not to throw up with nerves.

Not that it mattered. The cute guy who came to Brew This to study wasn’t going to ask her out any more than the hot guy who came in at odd hours of the night (Brew This All Day was one of the few coffee shops that was decent and open twenty-four hours a day) was going to ask out Steve, no matter how many longing looks Steve directed at that guy’s ass when he left the shop.

Customers might all be idiots, but they often didn’t even see servers unless they made a mistake. And even when that happened, servers weren’t… people. Not really.

Even the guys that flirted with her didn’t see her as a human being; someone to date and enjoy their company. They saw her as a conquest or a cheap, easy lay.

So it didn’t matter that she looked terrible, like a drowned rat, and that her clothes were going to wrinkle and be clammy and nasty all day.

He was just a decoration.

Someone with a perfect face and amazing shoulders and lovely hair.

A work of art.

And as untouchable as the same.

“Oh, my god,” Natasha said, uncoiling herself from behind the desk in the manager’s office. Technically, Nat was the shift lead, but Steve mostly had her doing the books because she was better at it than Steve was. She also set all the schedules, approved vacation time, and worked shifts when other people were sick.

Thus, not someone you wanted to be on the wrong side of.

“You look like you’re gonna puke,” Nat said. “Come here, change shirts with me.” Nat tugged off her scoop-necked black shirt with red accents, completely unphased by the way Clint stared and Steve turned around, the back of his neck going brick red. Nat had no body-shame, along with everything else.

Not that she had any reason to have it. She was quite attractive.

Wanda took the proffered shirt, but went behind the door to change, giving Nat her damp dress in return. So, now she was in Nat’s too tight, too short top. And leggings.

Well, she might not look better, but at least she wasn’t soaked.

Nat rolled her eyes at Wanda’s shirt and grabbed one of the tees with the shop’s logo on it. Technically, employees got a 50% discount off all shop merch, but even at half off, Wanda couldn’t really afford a new shirt right now.

She wondered if Nat could, or if she was just going to count the peep show as part of her compensation.

“Get on the clock, witchy,” Clint said. “I want to get the hell out of here.”

“Remind me why I pay you again?” Steve mused, scratching his chin.

Wanda didn’t stick around to watch the rest of the argument; she’d heard that particular song-and-dance a dozen times before.

Steve was, actually, a good boss. He paid at least fifteen dollars an hour -- as soon as Seattle had instituted that as minimum wage, he was right there behind it. Also, he let them keep all their tips and didn’t cut himself in on it, even if he worked a shift behind the machines.

As advertised, the hot guy was at his usual table; she could see him almost the whole time she was working, except when she was directly pulling a shot. Probably for the best, since she needed to pay attention to the steamer and not to the daytime television god who drank caramel lattes with extra whip while he studied from a pile of books.

Wanda thought he was planning to be a social worker, or something. She had trouble talking to people outside of actual work interactions, even on the best of days, and when dazzled by the man’s eyes, she barely remembered to ask his name to put it on the cup.

Worst, he never said his name. He sometimes used initials (JB) but mostly he used a series of jokes. Manchurian Candidate, Winter Soldier, Special Snowflake. (She particularly liked that last one, which he used when there was an entire cadre of bro-ristas in the shop, the kind of guys who liked to lean on their privilege and tell Wanda that she had no idea how to make coffee. People talked about Karens in their Target, but she thought those friends of hers could use an afternoon with a coffee-house Chad and see which one was worse. Those guys had looked up to mock the person calling themselves Snowflake, taken one look at JB’s body-builder physique and shut the fuck up. It had been great.)

Fortunately, there wasn’t much of a line; just before lunch when her shift started tended to be dead, aside from the occasional harried looking mom, or the perpetual student.

She checked the house pot, found it relatively fresh. The pastry cabinet was well stocked. She counted out her drawer, signed in. Watched JB from the corner of her eye. He looked up as she came into the room, smiled, and then went back to scowling at his papers and books and computer.

She did a round of the floor, picked up a few stray napkins and straw papers, wiped down the tables.

“Get you a refill?” she chirped, just like he was any other customer.

“Oh, would you?” JB asked, sounding like she’d offered a drowning man a lifeline.

“Sure, what are you drinking today?”

“Double-double,” JB said. “I’ve got an exam in--” he checked his watch, “three hours.”

“Sounds fun,” Wanda said. “I have a short shift today, I’m off in six hours.”

JB looked up at her, eyes going wide. “Are--”

“I mean, are-- if you-- just saying--”

“Are you asking me out on a post-exam date?” The only thing good about the entire situation is that he seemed just as flustered and embarrassed as she did. And he hadn’t immediately told her he was in a relationship. Or gay.

“I mean-- if you wanted to, then, you know. Yes?” Wanda waved her hands around, wondering if a convenient hole would ever open up in the ground and swallow her. No such luck.

“Yeah, then, sure,” JB said. “I, yeah. I’ll either want to celebrate. This is my last exam before I get my degree, fingers crossed--” Wanda dutifully crossed her fingers for him “-- or I’ll want to drown myself in beer if it goes badly. In either case, company would be nice.”

“Yeah,” Wanda said. “Okay. We’ll do that, then. You can pick me up here, the red line’s just up the road, go anywhere you want.”

“Sure thing,” JB said. He jotted something down on a paper napkin-- when he handed it to her, it was a phone number. “Text me in a bit, then I’ll have your number and you’ll have mine. Just-- just in case.”

Wanda nodded.

She took the napkin, went back and got his double-double, and then got caught up in an entire busload of tourists from Maryland, none of whom had been in a coffee shop that wasn’t Dunkin’ Donuts or Starbucks in their life, and by the time she texted him, he was already gone to his exam.

Just sitting down. Wish me luck.

Wanda debated her list of emojis for a bit, and then sent him a snowflake, a four leaf clover, thumbs up, and several coffee and tea cups. Waited a few minutes, then sent a wine glass, a plate, and an OK.

OK Wine

“Somebody’s happy,” Steve commented, looking at her beaming at her phone.

“I have a date,” Wanda said.

“With Snowflake?”

“Yeah?”

“Good for you. Guess I owe Nat twenty dollars.”

“Why?”

“I bet that I’d ask Tony out before you’d get up the nerve to ask JB.”

“So, uh. You don’t happen to know his actual name, do you?”

Steve just laughed and walked away.

Awkward.

#buckybarnesbingo2020 #bucky barnes x wanda maximoff #coffee shop AU

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eeveedel · 4 years ago

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i just want to complain really quickly. so as a biracial female i very much appreciated the diversity of the models in the ws mv but what i thought would be a little more diverse aside from ethnic background would be the shape of the models i guess. i just figured their might be some chubbier girls like almost everyone was model thin and some of them had thicker thighs but like WHY weren’t there any fat girls?? just wish there was diversity in every aspect

anon, I had to do a tragic thing to answer your question wisely: I rewatched the WS video so I could have Perspective bc in all honestly I watched it once and then reblogged some gifs and then ignored that it happened lol

I agree that I’m very glad they cast models of multiple races and ethnicity's (although that’s kind of the bare minimum), but these women are still classically beautiful. And of course that’s not a bad thing! The women in the video are all stunning! I’m not shitting on the models themselves! I merely have issue with the way they are presented in an ongoing and pretty shitty way in which we are forced to view and consume female bodies. Which is to say, women have to be beautiful to be celebrated, and they have to be beautiful in a certain way.

I paused a few times in the video but from my observation (which might be flawed bc the video does move fast and cut to different models quickly), there was only model that was curvier (they were dressed in the green bra/bikini top and jeans in the group shot) and they barely appeared in the video. All the close ups of girl’s bodies were with girls who were very thin. Again, there is nOTHING WRONG WITH THAT. It’s a body type, just like curvy is a body type. The issue is that thin bodies are repeatedly the only ones shown as attractive and sexual.

Also, another issue I have is how women are never allowed to have “flaws” -- or, basic, very human features on their bodies like marks or hair. Just for some context, I remember when Hayley Kiyoko’s Sleepover video came out I rewatched it nonstop bc the model in the video had stretch marks and they didn’t cover them at all. And in Janelle Monae’s Pynk video she has fun showing women’s body hair (two videos from queer artists showing women as beautiful and powerful with human features?? wow, who would’ve thought!). And, like, that’s so incredible but also so sad that that’s something so out of the ordinary, and that it’s normal women still have to be airbrushed and presented a certain way. The women in the WS video are still presented in a way that is palatable for the typical male gaze. They are thin, hairless, they have clear and perfect skin. The one curvy model they had, they put in JEANS while the others have on bikinis and small shorts. Like, come on.

TLDR; my issues with the WS video are small when it’s the video itself and big when you put it in the context of how the media and historically the music industry has sexualized and presented women’s bodies

#side notes!#I used they/them to refer to the one model bc I do not know their pronouns!#also I tried to avoid cissexist language in this post but if there is a way I can phrase it better #please tell me and I can edit it!#thanks y'all #Anonymous #ask

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novelwritingtrash · 5 years ago

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When Harry Styles played the O2 Arena in 2018, his fans illuminated the cavernous venue in the colours of the LGBTQ Pride flag. Coordinated by a social media account called The Rainbow Project, each seating block was allocated a different colour, so that when Styles played the song Sweet Creature, an enormous rainbow emerged from the crowd. I was there, and it was pretty magical. But it was also emblematic of how Styles’s fanbase views their idol: as a queer icon.

There’s arguably never been a better time to be an LGBTQ pop star. Acts such as Sam Smith, who came out as non-binary earlier this year, Lil Nas X, the first gay man to have a certified diamond song in America, Halsey, queer boyband Brockhampton, pansexual singer Miley Cyrus and Kim Petras, who is transgender, have all enjoyed an incredible year, bagging the biggest hits of 2019.

Still, when Styles shared Lights Up, the lead single from his forthcoming second solo album Fine Line, there was a collective intake of breath. The song and video - in which he appears shirtless in what looks like a sweaty orgy as both men and women grab at him - was heralded as a “bisexual anthem” by the media and fans on Twitter, despite not really making any explicit or obvious statements about sexuality or the LGBTQ community. Instead, Lights Up was just another example of the queer mythologising that occurs around Harry Styles.

As a member of One Direction, Styles was – aside from Zayn Malik – the group’s most charismatic and enticing member. From his first audition on The X Factor to the band’s disbandment in 2015, the teenager from Cheshire managed to elevate himself and his celebrity swiftly rose to the A list. Helping him along was speculation about his private life: during his tenure in the band he was romantically linked to everyone from Taylor Swift to Kendall Jenner.

But there were two other rumoured relationships that dogged Styles more than the others. The first was his close friendship with radio DJ Nick Grimshaw. Styles and Grimshaw were often photographed together, and there were anodyne showbiz reports about how they even shared a wardrobe.

Inevitably, rumours suggested they were romantically linked. In fact, so prolific was speculation that during an interview with British GQ, Styles was asked point blank if he was in a relationship with Grimshaw (he denied any romantic relationship) and, in a move that upset many One Direction fans, if he was bisexual. “Bisexual? Me?” he responded. “I don't think so. I'm pretty sure I'm not.”

The second, and perhaps most complicated of rumours, was that he and fellow bandmate Louis Tomlinson were in a relationship. Larry Stylinson, as their shipname is known, began life as fan-fiction but mutated into a wild conspiracy theory as certain fans – dubbed Larries – documented glances, gestures, touches, interviews, performances and outfits in an attempt to confirm the romance. Even now, four years after the band went on “hiatus”, videos are still being posted on YouTube in an attempt to confirm that their relationship was real.

For Tomlinson, Larry was fandom gone too far. He has repeatedly rejected the conspiracy. Styles, meanwhile, has never publicly discussed it. In fact, unlike Tomlinson, whose post-1D career trajectory has seen him adopt a loutish form of masculinity indebted to the Gallagher brothers, Styles has largely leant into the speculation surrounding his sexuality. Aside from the GQ interview, Styles has told interviewers that gender is not that important to him when it comes to dating. In 2017 he said that he had never felt the need to label his sexuality, adding: “I don’t feel like it’s something I’ve ever felt like I have to explain about myself.”

Likewise, during his time touring with One Direction, and during his own solo tours, the image of Styles draped with a rainbow flag became ubiquitous. He has also donated money from merchandise sales to LGBTQ charities. His fashion sense, too, subverts gender norms: Styles has long sported womenswear, floral prints, dangly earrings and painted nails.

Nevertheless, Styles’s hesitance to be candid has met with criticism. He has been accused of queer-baiting - or enjoying the benefits of appealing to an LGBTQ fanbase without having any of the difficulties. I’ve written before about how queer artists, who now enjoy greater visibility and are finding mainstream success, have struggled commercially owing to their sexuality or gender identity.

Styles, who is assumed to be a cisgender, heterosexual male, doesn’t carry any of the commercial risk laden upon Troye Sivan, Years and Years or MNEK, who all use same-gender pronouns in their music and are explicitly gay in their videos. His music – with its nods to rock’n’roll, Americana and folk – doesn’t feel very queer, either. Looking at it this way, the queer idolisation of Harry Styles doesn’t feel deserved.

“The thing with Harry Styles is that he often does the bare minimum and gets an out-sized load of credit for it,” says songwriter and record label manager Grace Medford. For Medford, who has worked at Syco and is now part of the team at Xenomania records, Styles’s queer narrative has been projected on him by the media and his fans. “I don't think that he queer-baits, but I don't think he does anywhere near enough to get the response that he does.”

Of course, Styles does not need to explain or be specific about his sexuality. As Medford puts it: “he's well within his rights to live his life how he chooses.” However, he has also created a space for himself in pop that allows him that ambiguity.

It’s a privilege few pop stars have. Last year, Rita Ora was hit with criticism after her song Girls, a collaboration with Charli XCX, Cardi B and Bebe Rexha, was dubbed problematic and accused of performative bisexuality. Even though Ora explicitly sang the lyric “I'm 50-50 and I'm never gonna hide it”, she was lambasted by social media critics, media commentary and even her fellow artists until she was forced to publicly confirm her bisexuality.

But the same was not done to Styles when he performed unreleased song “Medicine” during his world tour. The lyrics have never been confirmed, but the song is said to contain the line: “The boys and the girls are in/ I mess around with him/ And I'm okay with it.” Instead of probing him for clarity or accusing him of performativity, the song was labelled a “bisexual anthem” and praised as “a breakthrough for bisexual music fans”.

Of course, there’s misogyny inherent to such reactions. But there’s also something more layered and complex at play, too. “There's such a dearth of queer people to look up to, especially people at Harry’s level,” posits Medford. “With somebody who is seen as cool and credible and attractive as Harry, part of it is wishful thinking, I think.

“The fact is, he was put together into a boyband on a television show by a Pussycat Doll. And he has rebranded as Mick Jagger’s spiritual successor and sings with Stevie Nicks; he's really done the work there. Part of him doing that work is him stepping back and letting other people create a story for him.”

One only has to look at how Styles’ celebrity manifests itself (cool, fashionable, artistic) in comparison to that of his former bandmates. Liam Payne (this week dubbed by the tabloids as a chart failure) has been a tabloid fixture since his public relationship with Cheryl Cole and relies on countless interviews, photoshoots and even an advertising campaign for Hugo Boss to maintain his fame.

Styles, meanwhile, doesn’t really engage with social media. He also rarely appears in public and carefully chooses what kind of press he does, actively limiting the number of interviews he gives. Styles’s reticence to engage with the media and general public – perhaps a form of self-preservation – has awarded him a rare mystique that few people in the public eye possess.

This enigmatic personal, along with his sexual ambiguity, his support of LGBTQ charities and his gender-fluid approach to fashion, creates the perfect incubation for queer fandom. It also provides a shield against serious accusations of queer-baiting. As Medford argues: “Harry's queer mythology has been presented to and bestowed upon him by queer people whereas other acts feel like they have to actively seek that out.”

Ultimately, the way that Styles navigates his queer fandom doesn’t feel calculated or contrived. For Eli, an 18-year-old from Orlando who grew up with One Direction, seeing Styles “grow into himself” has been important. He suggests that Styles’ queer accessibility has helped to create a safe space for fans. “Watching him on tour dance on stage every night in his frilly outfits, singing about liking boys and girls, waving around pride flags, and even helping a fan come out to her mom, really helped me come to terms with my own sexuality,” he explains.

Vicky, who is 25 and from London, agrees: “To be able to attend his show with my pansexual flag and wave it around and feel so much love and respect - it's an amazing feeling. I'm aware so many queer people can't experience it so I'm very grateful Harry creates these safe spaces through his music and concerts.”

There’s appeal in Styles’s ambiguity, too. Summer Shaud, from Boston, says that Styles’ “giving no f----” approach to sexuality and gender is “inspiring and affirming” for those people who are coming to terms with their own identities or those who live in the middle of sexuality or gender spectrums. “There’s enormous pressure from certain gatekeeping voices within the queer community to perform queerness in an approved, unambiguous way, often coming from people with no substantive understanding of bisexuality or genderfluidity who are still looking to put everyone into a box,” she argues. “Harry’s gender presentation, queer-coding, and refusal to label himself are a defiant rebuke of that “You’re Not Doing It Right” attitude, and that resonates so strongly with queers who aren’t exclusively homosexual or exclusively binary.”

Shaud says that the queer community that has congregated around Styles is another reason she’s so drawn to him. “Seeing how his last tour was such an incredible site of affirmation and belonging for queers is deeply moving to me, and as older queer [Shaud is 41] I’m so grateful that all the young people growing up together with Harry have someone like him to provide that.”

In fact, she argues that there’s a symbiotic relationship between Styles and his queer fans. She cites an interview he gave to Rolling Stone this year in which he said how transformative the tour was for him. “For me the tour was the biggest thing in terms of being more accepting of myself, I think,” Styles shared. “I kept thinking, 'Oh wow, they really want me to be myself. And be out and do it.’”

All of the queer Harry Styles fans I spoke to agreed that it really didn’t matter whether their idol was explicit about his sexuality or not. “It’s weird that people scrutinise people who don’t label [their sexuality] when they have no idea what that person feels like inside or, in Harry’s case, what it’s like to be under the public eye,” argues Valerie, who is 18. “It's an individual choice, not ours,” agrees Vicky.

Ollie, 22 and from Brighton, takes a more rounded view, however: “On one hand, I think that quite simply it isn’t any of anyone else’s business. On the other, if you place yourself in the public eye to the level of fame that he has then you should be prepared to be probed about every minute detail of your personal life, whether you like it or not – you should at least be prepared to be questioned about it.” Still, he says that the good that Styles does is what’s important: “He brings fantastic support and attention to the community, whether he is actively a part of it or not.”

Arguably, the ambiguity and mystery that surrounds Styles only allows more space for queer people to find safety in him and in the fandom.

Still, if fans are expecting a queer coming of age with new album Fine Line, they will be disappointed. Lyrically, he doesn’t venture into new territory, although there are some new musical flares. He also seems like he’s started to distance himself a little from the ambiguity, too. “I’m aware that as a white male, I don’t go through the same things as a lot of the people that come to the shows,” he told Rolling Stone. “I can’t claim that I know what it’s like, because I don’t. So I’m not trying to say, ‘I understand what it’s like.’ I’m just trying to make people feel included and seen.” Having said that, within weeks Styles appeared on Saturday Night Live playing a gay social media manager, using queer slang and even wearing an S&M harness.

And so the cycle of queer mythologising continues, and is likely to continue for the rest of Styles’s career. And maybe things will change and maybe they won’t.

“If you are black, if you are white, if you are gay, if you are straight, if you are transgender — whoever you are, whoever you want to be, I support you,” he said earlier this year. “I love every single one of you.” In a world where LGBTQ rights are threatened and there’s socio-political insecurity, perhaps, for now at least, that’s enough.

#is it enough?#that the privileged cis white man gets to cosplay the gay saviour?

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accidentalharrie · 5 years ago

Note

maybe you or one of you followers has access to the telegraph article about Harry "Why does the world want Harry Styles to be gay" I don't know what to think about this headline and I really want to read it but its online only for subscribers

Here you go, Nons. (I hesitate to post this but…)

“The thing with Harry Styles is that he often does the bare minimum and gets an out-sized load of credit for it,” says songwriter and record label manager Grace Medford. For Medford, who has worked at Syco and is now part of the team at Xenomania records, Styles’s queer narrative has been projected on him by the media and his fans. “I don’t think that he queer-baits, but I don’t think he does anywhere near enough to get the response that he does.”

Of course, Styles does not need to explain or be specific about his sexuality. As Medford puts it: “he’s well within his rights to live his life how he chooses.” However, he has also created a space for himself in pop that allows him that ambiguity.

It’s a privilege few pop stars have. Last year, Rita Ora was hit with criticism after her song Girls, a collaboration with Charli XCX, Cardi B and Bebe Rexha, was dubbed problematic and accused of performative bisexuality. Even though Ora explicitly sang the lyric “I’m 50-50 and I’m never gonna hide it”, she was lambasted by social media critics, media commentary and even her fellow artists until she was forced to publicly confirm her bisexuality.

But the same was not done to Styles when he performed unreleased song “Medicine” during his world tour. The lyrics have never been confirmed, but the song is said to contain the line: “The boys and the girls are in/ I mess around with him/ And I’m okay with it.” Instead of probing him for clarity or accusing him of performativity, the song was labelled a “bisexual anthem” and praised as “a breakthrough for bisexual music fans”.

Of course, there’s misogyny inherent to such reactions. But there’s also something more layered and complex at play, too. “There’s such a dearth of queer people to look up to, especially people at Harry’s level,” posits Medford. “With somebody who is seen as cool and credible and attractive as Harry, part of it is wishful thinking, I think.

“The fact is, he was put together into a boyband on a television show by a Pussycat Doll. And he has rebranded as Mick Jagger’s spiritual successor and sings with Stevie Nicks; he’s really done the work there. Part of him doing that work is him stepping back and letting other people create a story for him.”

This enigmatic personal, along with his sexual ambiguity, his support of LGBTQ charities and his gender-fluid approach to fashion, creates the perfect incubation for queer fandom. It also provides a shield against serious accusations of queer-baiting. As Medford argues: “Harry’s queer mythology has been presented to and bestowed upon him by queer people whereas other acts feel like they have to actively seek that out.”

Vicky, who is 25 and from London, agrees: “To be able to attend his show with my pansexual flag and wave it around and feel so much love and respect - it’s an amazing feeling. I’m aware so many queer people can’t experience it so I’m very grateful Harry creates these safe spaces through his music and concerts.”

There’s appeal in Styles’s ambiguity, too. Summer Shaud, from Boston, says that Styles’ “giving no f—-” approach to sexuality and gender is “inspiring and affirming” for those people who are coming to terms with their own identities or those who live in the middle of sexuality or gender spectrums. “There’s enormous pressure from certain gatekeeping voices within the queer community to perform queerness in an approved, unambiguous way, often coming from people with no substantive understanding of bisexuality or genderfluidity who are still looking to put everyone into a box,” she argues. “Harry’s gender presentation, queer-coding, and refusal to label himself are a defiant rebuke of that “You’re Not Doing It Right” attitude, and that resonates so strongly with queers who aren’t exclusively homosexual or exclusively binary.”

In fact, she argues that there’s a symbiotic relationship between Styles and his queer fans. She cites an interview he gave to Rolling Stone this year in which he said how transformative the tour was for him. “For me the tour was the biggest thing in terms of being more accepting of myself, I think,” Styles shared. “I kept thinking, ‘Oh wow, they really want me to be myself. And be out and do it.’”

All of the queer Harry Styles fans I spoke to agreed that it really didn’t matter whether their idol was explicit about his sexuality or not. “It’s weird that people scrutinise people who don’t label [their sexuality] when they have no idea what that person feels like inside or, in Harry’s case, what it’s like to be under the public eye,” argues Valerie, who is 18. “It’s an individual choice, not ours,” agrees Vicky.

Arguably, the ambiguity and mystery that surrounds Styles only allows more space for queer people to find safety in him and in the fandom.

And so the cycle of queer mythologising continues, and is likely to continue for the rest of Styles’s career. And maybe things will change and maybe they won’t.

#I hope it goes without saying that I disagree with a LOT in this article #telegraph #not sure how else to tag this #asks #Anonymous

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shipmistress9 · 5 years ago

Text

FTLOAP - 40.5: Interlude 5: The Ride

Fandom: HTTYD

Theme: Hiccstrid - Medieval-style AU - Romance - Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Reduced to little more than a stable boy, Hiccup, despite his noble birth, has few prospects for more in life. But when he meets a girl who came to look at the horses, being a stable boy might not be enough anymore. Together, they have tough choices to make and great risks to navigate if they want to survive and be together.

Rating: Explicit

FF-net - AO3 -

Discord-server for discussions and questions

Part 1: Prologue; Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8; Chapter 9; Chapter 10; Chapter 11;

Part 2: Chapter 12; Chapter 13; Chapter 14; Interlude 1; Chapter 15; Chapter 16; Chapter 17; Chapter 18; Chapter 19; Chapter 20; Chapter 21; Chapter 22; Chapter 23; Chapter 24; Chapter 25; Chapter 26; Interlude 2; Chapter 27: Chapter 28 ; Chapter 29 ; Chapter 30; Chapter 31; Chapter 32; Interlude 3; Bonus 1; Chapter 33

Part 3: Chapter 34; Chapter 35; Chapter 36; Interlude 4; Chapter 37; Chapter 38; Chapter 39; Chapter 40

Alpha/Co-author: @athingofvikings

. – * – _ . o O o . _ – * – .

AN: Ah, yes, this is why I don't like posting too long chapters... Judging by the reactions, the points that were important to me seemed to have drowned in everything else. Ah, well... Splitting the previous chapter and drawing it out longer wouldn't have been a good choice either, so I'll have to live with this now.

This week, the summer holidays started here. That means that I will have even less time to write, but I'll try to stick to the schedule nonetheless. I can't make any promises though, especially with me and my family going on vacation in the week before the next planned update. All I can promise is that I will try.

But! Chapter 41 is one of the most important chapters of this entire story to me and I want to get it right! Meaning, I won't update in two weeks if it's not in a state I'm satisfied with. Sorry.

. o O o .

With a tired sigh, King Osmond of House Hofferson, ruler of the United Kingdom of Volantis, took a moment to rest his head in his hands. Sometimes he wondered just how much time exactly he spent in this room, sitting at his desk and brooding over reports, lists, and requests. But then, did it matter? Someone had to do this and as King it was his duty to make decisions. And if he made the wrong decision, or even let anyone else make these decisions, thousands could and would suffer. No, it was his responsibility to make sure the right decisions were made – or at the very least the ones that offered the minimum amount of harm…

However, it looked as if his recent decisions were paying off positively. Going through the reports of the last two weeks helped bring a grim smile of satisfaction to his face. He still wasn’t happy with the solution he and his friends had settled upon some months ago, but he couldn’t deny that it was working. Before they’d begun these festivities, he’d compiled a single list of the men they knew were in the conspiracy, and another list of those they reasonably suspected of being in it by association and personal reputations. Those two lists had composed the core of the guest list. And now he was crossing off names from both. Nearly two dozen dead so far, and nearly all of them were on one of the two lists. From what it looked like, the greedy agitators were even murdering each other for their chance at the prize, presumably getting rid of their most dangerous competitors first, and making the upcoming work of the King’s Guard that much easier. Indeed, aside from the incident with the boar, where his huntsman had deliberately set a group of the known traitors after a boar – when they had only been prepared for hunting deer – every other death had come from their fellow men.

The next report listed the injured and the maimed. Here, the divide between the innocent and the guilty wasn’t quite as favourable, but he knew the patients would get the best possible care, which was all he could do for them. Injuries were a common risk, after all.

Yes, as much as he detested having to use this approach to get rid of the traitors, he had to admit that it was working out splendidly. The highest priority target, Duke Thuggory, might still be alive – and had, annoyingly, been the one to finish off the boar – but there was plenty of time to remedy that fact.

He put the list aside, took a sip of his wine, and reached for the next report. It was the account of the guards that had been sent out to look for the missing tax collector. Neither the man nor his coach had been found by now, so the question remained whether he’d been attacked or had gone into hiding himself. Osmond’s gut told him that it was likely the former, as the man had been loyal for many years now, but that wasn’t why this report made him grimace. This incident wasn’t directly related to the current events at the castle, but... The money and goods this specific man had gathered had been meant to pay for Astrid’s wedding, both for the celebrations and also her dowry. And while the castle’s treasury was filled well enough to compensate the loss, this report only reminded him of what he tried not to think about too often – that this entire charade was being paid at the expense of his beloved daughter.

Osmond leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face, but then stood up and, almost without thinking, walked over to a large painting that hung in the more comfortable corner of his office. With tired eyes, he looked up into the face of his beloved Brenna; it was so similar to Astrid’s that he sometimes, when she entered a room or they met in the corridors, thought it was her.

“I wonder what you would have to say if you were here, my love,” he murmured, reaching out to let his fingers glide along the gilded frame. “I assume you’d scold me for using our daughter as bait, especially after the price you paid for her life. But that’s the lot of the royal family, isn’t it? To make sacrifices for the good of the people. And from what it looks like, she’s going to marry Eret’s son; that isn’t too bad, right? Not what you and your best friend had hoped for, not her marrying her son but only her nephew. But given the circumstances, this is the best option for her. I just wish I could already tell her why all this is necessary, but I promise that I will do so eventually. I hope she may forgive me one day, and… and I hope you can, too.”

But, of course, he got no answer. Brenna just kept gazing down at him with those beautiful deep blue eyes and that slightly cheeky smile of hers. Gods, how much he missed her...

For a little while longer, he stayed where he was, gazing up at the painting, before he returned to his desk. He knew that Astrid wasn’t thrilled about any of this, but at least she seemed to be better now that she’d apparently made her choice. All he could do now was hope that, over time, the close friendship she and young Eret shared would turn into more; that was why he’d instructed to grant her more time with him and Oswald’s boy during the weeks before her birthday, after all.

Although… given how much pain love had brought him, he wasn’t so sure whether that was really something to wish for. Losing Brenna, the love of his life, had nearly killed him too. It had certainly maimed his heart for many years. Only reluctantly, he’d agreed to marry again ten years later, and it had taken three more years to overcome his aversion against the woman his advisors had picked for him. And just when his heart had started to love again, she’d been taken from him, too. Logically, he knew that the bad days were only bearable because he could remember the happy ones… but he also hoped that none of his children would ever have to suffer the pain of burying their loved ones way too early.

. o O o .

“Ah, there’s nothing quite like a good ride through the countryside, don’t you agree?”

Osmond glanced at his friend Eret II from the corner of his eye, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I do. But you do remember that not everyone feels the same way, yes? There’s no need to tease Oswald tonight for not wanting to come along.”

“Ah, but where’s the fun in that?” Eret pouted.

From the side, Spitelout approached them on his white stallion. Out of the four of them, he was the only one not riding one of the Jag’r horses, as he’d never had the patience to learn how to deal with one of the demanding beasts. “No, really, Eret. You shouldn’t tease Ozzie; he gets enough riding of another sort, after all. Grapevine has it that he and his mistress are expecting again.”

“Oh, is that so?” Eret laughed. “You really do have your spies everywhere, don’t you?”

Spitelout shrugged with a wide grin. “I like to be well-informed.”

Osmond joined in into the laughter that followed, though only half-heartedly. His eyes had fallen on someone dressed in a wide flowing dress of blue and turquoise, and after a murmured excuse to his friends, he led his horse to her side.

“Good morning, Astrid,” he greeted her, smiling warmly, but just as he’d feared and expected, she barely even looked at him in return.

“Good morning, Sire,” she replied obediently, making a perfect bow on the back of her broad gelding.

Her formal address pained him, but he didn’t let anything show. He was aware of her current opinion of him, and as much as he’d liked to explain and maybe redeem himself in her eyes – he knew that this wasn’t the time, not yet. Maybe it would come one day – when the traitors were dealt with and secrecy wasn’t as crucial anymore – but for now, it was better she focused all her anger on him. It hopefully meant that her heart was otherwise free to find warmth and comfort in young Eret’s arms.

“I hope this ride is to your liking,” he tried nonetheless. “I know how fond you are of riding, so I hope this is a welcome diversion to the latest events for you.” The necessary hunts and tournaments might be supposedly to her honour, but Osmond was no fool. He knew his daughter well enough to know that she wasn’t enjoying those, which was why he’d done everything in his power to follow young Eret’s suggestions and squeeze in this ride between the other planned events.

Astrid, however, merely shrugged. “I’ll try to enjoy it if that is your wish. With this saddle, this company, and the expected pace, I can’t make any promises though.”

With these words, she directed her gaze to the side to where now the last members of the party, young Eret and his squire, Stoick’s boy, came to join them. Her turning away without a word in public was borderline discourteous – he hadn’t dismissed her, after all – but she hadn’t turned her back on him. So, Osmond didn’t reprimand her. He wanted her to focus on the newcomer, after all.

Instead, he simply gave the signal for the group to get started. He rode at the front, with Astrid at his side and a few guards loosely around them, but soon the formation shifted and changed and he could only watch her from a bit of a distance as he made way for the young men around them to talk to her. For a short while, young Eret rode next to her and it was obvious how much more relaxed she was around him. But soon, voices got louder that demanded their share of the Princess’s time as well, and so her attention was taken up by the ever-changing and increasingly desperate conversational partners.

“They haven’t given up just yet, eh?” Eret II muttered as he rode next to Osmund and shook his head.

Spitelout snorted. “Of course, they haven’t. Many of them came a long way to court her, and so far, nothing is official. I doubt even tonight’s ball will change that.”

They all watched as young Snotlout took his place at Astrid’s side next and it didn’t escape anyone’s notice how she pursed her lips at that. Osmond threw Spitelout an inquisitive look, interested in how his friend would react to the obvious rejection, but either he didn’t care much or he was way better at hiding his opinion than he’d thought. There was no reaction in his friend’s face whatsoever, so Osmond just shrugged and for a while, they rode on without much in terms of conversation. It really was a lovely day, and spending it outside with a leisure activity like peacefully riding along the shore of Lake Vola instead of brooding over even more reports was a great diversion.

“Oh, I can’t believe it!” Eret exclaimed after what had to be nearly two hours into their ride. Soon, they would take a break to eat the picnic the servants riding with them had brought along before they would return to the castle.

Curious about what agitated his friend so much, Osmond followed his eyes to the young man who now approached Astrid – and gritted his teeth. Duke Thuggory of Meathead. If he could, Osmond would have forbidden him to come close to his daughter. But he had no legitimate reason to do so, nothing but assumptions, suspicions, and secret information. No, all he could do was watch and silently apologise to Astrid for making her endure this.

But apparently, his friend’s agitation had another reason.

“I wonder how that piece of filth got his hands on one of our horses,” Eret hissed. “Because he certainly didn’t get it directly from us. I’d rather take a good stallion back to our farms again before I hand him over to someone who wouldn’t treat him right. But with his influence, it probably wasn’t difficult for him to find a middleman. Odin, I wish I could demand the poor beast back from him. See? He can’t even control him right!”

Osmond’s eyes narrowed to slits as he watched the hated nobleman. Eret was right, the stallion the duke was riding was barely under his control, prancing left and right and throwing his head around. The sight wasn’t exactly reassuring – although it did come with the hope that the Duke would get thrown from the saddle and break his neck, thereby removing the biggest threat to the realm, as Thuggory’s lands were a knife poised at the heart of the kingdom, only a day’s ride from Lake Vola. But there was the fact that he was so close to Astrid, and riding so haphazardly. It was only his knowledge about Astrid’s exceptional riding skills that kept him from interfering then and there.

A decision he regretted only seconds later – and probably would for the rest of his life.

It happened in an instant, too fast for him or anyone else around them to react. When Thuggory rode closer to Astrid, his stallion threw its head up and tried to bite Astrid’s gelding without warning. Astrid’s horse shied away from the aggressive stallion with a distressed whinny. She tried to reign him in, but couldn’t hold him when Thuggory’s stallion attacked again, his jaws snapping with a harsh click! that Osmund could even hear from his place yards away. When Markor bolted away from the attacking stallion, his panic infected many of the horses around him, but Osmund was less concerned about the sudden stampede than he was about the fact that Astrid was at the head of it, barely able to keep her seat as Markor ran for his life.

“After them!” he bellowed, unable to get to his daughter himself with all the jumbled horses around him. But his words drowned in the general uproar, all men around shouting over one another. It was chaos, and he barely managed to keep sight of Astrid and her horse as they set off across a field and toward a nearby copse of aspen. Again, he tried to push through the chaos, but to no avail. Thor, keep her safe! he prayed desperately, helpless to do anything.

Then he lost sight of her completely and only a few moments later, a bloodcurdling scream thundered over the plain. The chaos grew as even more horses panicked at the noise, running off in all directions. But Osmond froze even as his steed beneath him pranced left and right, his heart stuttering painfully. No… No, he couldn’t lose her too!

Frantically, he tried to push through the mass of milling horses and riders; most of the mounts weren’t battle-trained and were running wild, resulting in utter chaos. He kept having to halt and turn or risk a collision, but he didn’t dare stop; his eyes were darting to and fro, looking for that patch of blue and turquoise that would tell him where his daughter was. He couldn’t find her, but a moment later he spotted something else that, while still telling him nothing about where Astrid was or whether she was alright, at least somewhat eased his mind.

There were two riders darting past the general throng, one on a big black stallion and the other one astride a smaller chestnut mare. But unlike most of the others on this ride, they were clearly still in full control of their horses, heading in the direction Astrid’s gelding had disappeared to.

With knowing that young Eret was already coming to her help, Osmond was able to calm down somewhat, enough to concentrate on his own surroundings again. It took him a few minutes, but eventually, he managed to find a way out of the chaos as many men got their horses under control again.

When he and a group of other men reached the copse, it took them a minute to find Astrid and Eret, the sounds of her wailing and of soft whispers leading their way. The sight that greeted them was reassuring – but still bad enough.

From what it looked like, Astrid was unharmed with only her hair and dress ruffled from the fall. He couldn’t be entirely sure though as she was largely hiding from everyone’s view, encased in Eret’s embrace and her face buried against his chest. The same couldn’t be said for her horse though. The gelding lay a few steps away from the couple, unmoving, and with Stoick’s boy kneeling near his head.

“Oh, by Thor’s hammer!” Eret cursed as he reached his side a few moments later. He’d apparently seen the obvious too – the unnatural angle in which the gelding’s left hind leg dangled, a bloody splinter of bone sticking out from the skin, the bloody dagger lying next to his head, and the equally bloody hands of the boy stroking the dead horse’s mane. From the looks of it, the horse had stumbled, possibly in a burrow or on other uneven ground, and thrown Astrid off, who had miraculously landed uninjured... but Markor had broken his leg, and badly. Stoick’s boy had given the only mercy available to the poor beast.

During the next minutes, more men appeared around them, taking in the scene with gasps and hushed whispers. Some offered their sympathy even though nobody dared to get any closer, and Osmond doubted that Astrid heard any of that between Eret murmuring into her ear and her own sobbing and wailing. It was a strange sight and it took Osmond a minute to understand why.

Astrid was crying.

He tried to remember when he’d last seen her in such a state but came up empty-handed except for very early memories of her toddler years. No matter how dreadful an occasion, be it her stepmother’s funeral or the assaults on her during the past year, she’d always kept up her facade when in public, had always shown nothing but strength. For her to break down like this now… His eyes wandered back to the dead gelding, and only slowly did it dawn on him how hard this must have hit her. He wanted to go to her, too, to take his daughter into his arms and comfort her. But she wouldn’t appreciate that – even her warder kept his distance, leaving her the space she needed – so he held back.

Instead, he ordered to no-one in particular, “We will return to the castle immediately.” That would give her at least a little privacy.

Around him, the men hustled about, delivering the message to those standing farther away. Young Eret tried to pull Astrid away from the site of the accident, and Osmond heard him murmur “Come, there’s nothing left we can do for him,” when she weakly fought against him. Eventually, she gave in though, and let him lead her toward his own horse. She was already on the stallion’s back, young Eret about to climb up behind her, when a highly unwelcome voice spoke up near them.

“Isn’t this an unfair advantage to Sir Eret if the Princess rides with him? It’s not as if her choice is official yet, she could still change her mind.”

Osmond gritted his teeth but kept his expression neutral as he turned toward Duke Thuggory. There was no hint of remorse on his face, even though he and his lack of control over his stallion were to blame for this accident. If only he’d interfered sooner – or had gotten rid of the traitor already.

He was about to form an answer when he caught sight of his friends’ expressions standing nearby. Eret was grimacing, clearly as enraged as Osmond was about the Duke’s behaviour, but Spitelout looked more cautious, and when he caught his eyes, he shrugged apologetically. “He has a point.”

Osmond pressed his lips into a thin line. Of course, he had a point. Not only about giving an advantage to one of her suitors, but letting her ride on a stallion was also highly inappropriate. Letting out a low sigh, his shoulders slumped down. As much as he wanted to grant her the comfort of riding with her soon-to-be-husband, he couldn’t allow it yet. His eyes wandered around, pondering the alternatives. If it were only about not giving an advantage, she could ride with him or one of the Grand Dukes, but they were all riding stallions, too, and it wasn’t really becoming of their status anyway. Her warder would be a better option, but Osmond doubted the old pony the man was riding could carry two people over such a distance. His eyes wandered on, over the guards who also all rode stallions and the servants with their full picnic baskets. None of them were suitable options either and he wasn’t sure whether to trust them with Astrid in her brittle state right now anyway. He was at a loss as to what to decide – until his eyes fell on the lonely figure still kneeling next to the horse’s corpse.

The boy rode a mare, didn’t he? In addition, he had no further weight to carry, and hadn’t he become something of a friend to Astrid, too? Also… he didn’t know the boy at all, but with what Osmund remembered about his parents, how his upbringing must have been, and how highly Daniel was thinking of him – he couldn’t help but trust in the boy’s character.

Being satisfied with this decision, he declared in a voice which clearly didn’t tolerate protest, “The Princess will ride with Sir Eret’s squire.”

. o O o .

Here again the reminder that I can't promise there won't be a new chapter in two weeks! We're on family vacation and the next chapter is too important to be released in a half-finished state.

Next chapter

#For The Love Of A Princess #FTLOAP #Hiccstrid #Hiccstrid fanfiction #fanfiction #httyd #httyd fanfiction #Romance/Angst/Hurt/Comfort/Fluff #Hiccstrid Medieval AU #medieval au #hiccstrid royal au #royalty au

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darkstache-iplier · 6 years ago

Text

Happy New Year!

Warnings: suicidal thoughts

Ships: dantistache (if you squint)

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The party was going crazy outside.

Egos after egos joined up in the street, raising their glasses and waiting anxiously for the turn of the New Year. New egos, old egos, strange egos and extroverted egos all reunited one night of the year to celebrate the passing of time, to celebrate their accomplishments in that year and the many more that would come.

All but three, that watched over the rest by the little balcony all the way up the Iplier manor.

"We really are approaching our 100th new years mark" Wilford said, calmly, sipping on his champagne as he leaned against the rails of the balcony. "Feels like yesterday when we celebrated our last normal new years"

"1943, if I'm not mistaken" Dark responded, tilting his head. "We were very young. Very stupid"

"Not at all. We were happy and very much aware of our surroundings" Wilford assured, smiling to Dark and sipping some more of his drink. "Do you know what you will wish for in your 100th new year passing?"

"No. We still have some time to think" Dark shook his head, and slowly turned towards Anti, who had been sitting in the rails for a while, drinking his champagne and staring down to the rest of the egos. his champagne and staring down to the rest of the egos. "How many New Years you've seen Anti?"

"... almost 200 by now" Anti responded, somewhat hesitant, drinking some more, finishing off his glass that was soon filled up again. "I only count the first 12 though, when I was still human that is"

"You should count all of them" Wilford said, approaching him and tapping his shoulder. "Every new year is special! A new chance for a new start"

"Sure..." he mumbled, drinking some more before placing his glass down and standing up in the rails. "New Year. New life. But nothing really changes. In almost two hundred years I've barely seen anything move forward, asides from technology I guess"

"Lucky for you, being a computer demon and all that" Dark said, and Anti shrugged, floating above the rails and looking forward into the horizon.

"Yeah maybe..."

"Anti, are you feeling alright? You seem off" Wilford asked, concerned, and Anti sighed, sitting down again and turning towards the two.

"I'm fine. This time of the year sucks for almost everybody" he mumbled, putting his hands behind his head. "But I'm fine. I'm cool"

"What did you wish for your one hundred new year passage?" Dark asked, trying to drift the subject away, but it only made Anti look even more blue, looking up at the night sky and seeming to dissociate for a while.

"What I have been wishing since my 13th" he said, frowning slightly as the egos down on the street began to count down the time.

"5!"

"4!"

"3!"

"2!"

"1!"

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

The fireworks started, the egos began toasting to the new year, and Anti looked down from the stars, giving Wilford and Dark a little smirk and lifting his glass.

"Happy new year, assholes"

Dark rolled his eyes but Wilford grinned, pulling both entities in a tight hug that they actually joined in, with Dark placing his head gently on Wil's shoulder and Anti digging his face into his comfy chest.

"Happy New Year!" Wilford said, loud and clear, and both demons smiled, nodding and hugging each other for at least one night, letting Wilford's happiness and loudness penetrate their soul for a happier feeling of content and excitement.

After that, they toast their champagne, and went downstairs to talk to the rest, making sure to toast with all and every single one of the egos around the street.

Then, they ate dinner, talked and laughed, and even Anti made sure to place some of his pranks around while Dark tried to keep everything at a minimum order.

It wasn't until 5 am that they finally had some peace and quiet, the three of them together once more, standing outside, looking towards the horizon where the sun was about to rise.

"So. What did you guys wish?" Anti asked, leaning against Dark, who was in between Anti and Wilford. Dark stared forward for a while, before sighing.

"I wished for more patience. And that Mark stops creating new egos for us to accommodate. I'm getting tired" he huffed, and both Anti and Wilford chuckled softly.

"Well I wished that I could spend many more years with the friends that I love so much" Wilford said, and Anti felt Dark's shell cracking a bit, but not enough to make itself noticeable. "What about you Anti? Did you wish what you always wish?"

Anti stayed silent for a moment, drifting his eyes to the grass and then to the two next to him, and then to the horizon in front of them, sighing to himself.

"No. Since my 13th new years celebration, I've been wishing for it all to stop" Anti said, softly, pulling his legs against his chest and placing his chin over his knees. "Since I became this immortal being, I've been asking for my death. It has been almost 200 years without my wish turning to reality. I guess I just... really hate being alive sometimes"

"I think that above everyone else, we know what you feel" Dark said, and Anti turned to face him, both Wilford and Dark looking into the horizon, serious and with a somewhat deep aura around them. Anti nodded and turned his face back again, sighing.

"This night, I wished to live a bit longer" he said, and slowly turned around to face the house, where some of the egos were still talking. A fond smile appeared on his face, seeing his friends all gathered up, doing silly things and drinking and talking and singing their hearts out. "At least long enough... to be able to help those I love"

"You've changed, you know?" Dark asked, and when Anti returned his head to face him, both him and Wilford were smiling.

"So have you. You're way too soft" Anti teased, and Dark rolled his eyes, smile turning into smirk.

"I think... this deserves another toast" Wilford said, smiling widely and suddenly, one margarita appeared in each of their hands. "For a brighter future, a nicer past and a wonderful present!"

"Sure, weirdo" Anti chuckled and raised his glass, accompanied by Dark, the three of them toasting once more before drinking the margarita down.

Yeah, 2019 was surely going to be a hell of a good year.

#my fanfic #dantistache #dark #anti #wilford #darkstache #danti #antistache #if you squint i mean #new years

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