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graysoncritic · 9 months ago

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A (Negative) Analysis of Tom Taylor's Nightwing Run - Who is Dick Grayson?

Introduction Who is Dick Grayson? What Went Wrong? Dick's Characterization What Went Wrong? Barbara Gordon What Went Wrong? Bludhaven (Part 1, Part 2) What Went Wrong? Melinda Lin Grayson What Went Wrong? Bea Bennett What Went Wrong? Villains Conclusion Bibliography

When asked to describe Dick Grayson’s character, many will say he is good. He is Bruce Wayne’s light, the person he could have been had someone offered Bruce understanding and guidance after his trauma. Dick is a leader. A big brother. A mentor. He is someone people can look up to, someone others can trust. He is “The Heart of the DCU.”

(Williamson, Joshua, writer. Sampere, Daniel; Herbert, Jack; Camuncoli, Giuseppe; Sandoval, Rafa, illustrators. Dawn of the DCU. Dark Crisis on Infinite Earth no. 7, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2022. pp. 28)

Characters, much like real people, are more than just a trait. Jason Todd is more than “angry.” Bruce Wayne is more than just “brooding.” Tim Drake is more than just “smart.” Characters are multidimensional. They have multiple facets, some of which may contradict one another because characters, just like people, are not created out of mathematical equations where two plus two always equals four. Humans are emotional. Their being is informed by past experiences, biology, culture. The intricate combination of these vastly different factors leads to inconsistency in rationality that may not always be logical. Dick being “good” does not mean that Dick can’t be angry, that he can’t make mistakes, or that he can’t lash out or be unreasonable, especially when stressed. Dick being “good” does not mean he can’t brood, does not mean he can’t be suspicious, nor does it mean he will always like everyone. Dick being “good” does not mean he can’t be his own worst enemy, that he can’t be calculative and strategic, that he always needs to be upbeat, or that he can’t be the most intelligent person in the room.

(Grayson, Devin, writer. Zircher, Patch, illustrator. Slow Burn. Nightwing no 93, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2004. pp. 10-11)

Sam Humphries also demonstrated this during his brilliant story, The Untouchable. There, Dick’s relentless determination to save people from the Judge’s machinations grows so intense that it becomes self-destructive. The story demonstrates how Dick’s “goodness” comes from a form of toxic perfectionism that has been with him since he was a child — a perfectionism born of a low self-worth that eats at him from the inside out

(Humphries, Sam, writer. Janson, Klaus; Campbell, Jamal, illustrators. Ruthless. Nightwing: Rebirth no. 37, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2018. pp. 08)

Even the 2003 animated series Teen Titans understood that in trying to catch the bad guy — almost always Slade Wilson in the case of that show — Dick could sometimes go too far.

Dick’s goodness causes him to see himself as a danger to not just his loved ones, but everyone who stands near him. He carries the world on his shoulders, taking the blame for every tragedy and seeing every death as a personal failure. When pushed to its worst, Dick’s goodness becomes an obsession which pushes others away, leading to isolation as Dick’s entire existence narrows down to accomplishing one specific goal.

It is this reductive characterization of Dick – the idea that his one defining trait is that he is “good” – that leads many to misunderstand the appeal of his character. As I mentioned above, characters are multi-facet, and Dick is no exception. However, the ways in which Dick is multi-facet are very different from the ways in which most characters are multi-facet.

Please do not mistake what I am about to say by claiming these other characters are not complex. Or even that some of them might not subvert popular tropes. What I mean saying is that Dick’s complexity is demonstrated differently than what I believe most people are accustomed to.

For example, everyone knows Bruce Wayne keeps his feelings locked up inside. He compartmentalizes his emotions and his trauma in order to solve the puzzle put ahead of him. But everyone – characters and readers alike – understands Bruce is doing this. Everyone can tell that he is hiding something from others and keeping them at a distance. The reader is always aware of how Bruce’s trauma informs his actions, his interactions, and his thought process.

(Grayson, Devin; Barr, Mike W., writers. Davis, Alan; Robinson, Roger, illustrator. Procedure. Batman: Gotham Knights no. 25, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2002. pp. 20)

Take, for instance, Part One of Murderer/Fugitive. Although a major source of tension from the story surrounds the question of Bruce’s innocence, there’s never any question in the minds of the reader and the character that Bruce is hiding something. Tim Drake questions whether Bruce truly did kill Vesper Child and is hiding his motive, while Dick is certain of Bruce’s innocence and instead believes Bruce is hiding his alibi or the clues that would help them find the real murderer. Barbara Gordon, for her part, wavers between the two, but like Tim, Dick, and the reader, she is certain of one thing: Bruce Wayne is hiding something from her, from them… From us.

Similarly, Jason Todd’s anger comes from a place of hurt and a place of love, from insecurities and a need to prove himself. But like Bruce, all of that is clear to see. His anger and his hurt are simple to understand. Please, do not mistake this for me claiming that Jason is not a complex character — instead, I’m stating that his temperament, his trauma, and his actions are so interlinked that they are clear for the reader to see. His character, while rich, is more accessible. It does not take a lot of effort to know that Jason is angry because of what was done to him. It is easy to see that he is hurt because he equates Bruce’s love to the Joker’s death, and therefore sees Bruce’s failure to avenge him “proof” that Bruce does not love him as a son.

(Winick, Judd, writer. Battle, Eric, illustrator. All They Do is Watch Us Kill: Part 3: It Only Hurts When I Laugh. Batman no. 650, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2006. pp. 13) Dick, on the other hand, does not wear his emotions, his motivations, or his goals on his sleeve. Dick keeps his secrets not by constructing an impenetrable wall like Bruce, but through misdirection. This is why those who are unfamiliar with Dick misinterpret him so much. They take what is on the surface at face value because they do not have the character history to serve as context to understand what lies beneath As a Dick Grayson fan (From this moment forward will be referred to as Dick Grayson Fan A) said “good Dick writers teach readers how to read him and bad Dick writers just have that surface level interpretation.” (I was actually talking to her about this idea and how I’m presenting it in this essay. The example I gave was one she suggested after I asked if she could think of good moments that exemplified this idea.)

As an example, we can look at this moment from Grayson, in which Dick sucks a lollipop while receiving a mission assignment. Someone who is not familiar with Dick and is looking at Dick and Helena’s interaction might be easily fooled into thinking that Dick is the pretty, strong, but annoyingly childish and slightly dumb male character who contrasts the serious, intelligent, and highly competent woman. The characters’ expressions, actions, and the onomatopoeias are certainly leaning into that familiar trope.

(King, Tom; Seeley, Tim, writers. Janin, Mikel, illustrator. The Raid. Grayson no. 04, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2014. pp. 02) However, Dick Grayson fans know that when it comes to the mission, Dick is as serious as Batman himself. Highly intelligent, Dick is considered to by many the world’s second greatest detective (there are many instances in canon when he is referred to as such), making him more than just a pretty face who knows how to fight (It should be noted that in this tweet, writer Tom King also ranks Dick as the second best fighter in the Bat Family). Furthermore, context matters. Dick is deep undercover throughout the duration of Grayson, and this scene is set shortly after the death of one of the agents of the organization Dick has infiltrated. In other words, Dick is in a highly stressful situation without allies to provide him with back-up or emotional support.

His posturing in this scene, then, can be seen as an attempt to misguide and misdirect. He does not wish to let those around him – people he is not sure yet if he can trust – know the full extent of his capabilities or perceive any potential weaknesses in his value of human life. Positioning himself as the annoying and childish pretty boy who does not pay much attention to serious matters is a strategic choice that his fans readily pick up on.

That is not to say that Dick’s smiles are all lies. Rather, Dick’s upbeat nature is a natural aspect of his personality that he will exaggerate depending on the setting in order to keep his privacy. He is a natural performer, a showman, and so he utilizes misdirection to his advantage.

A classic example of Dick’s misdirection and how he is misinterpreted by others is how some would characterize him as an “attention seeker.” However, the term “attention seeker” has negative connotations as it implies someone who seeks the spotlight at the expense of others.

That is the opposite of who Dick is. But that’s not Dick is. As a mentor, a leader, and an older brother, Dick will often invite others to join the conversation. He pays attention to what they say, he strategizes based on their needs.

(Johns, Geoff; Wolfman, Marv, writers. Nauck, Todd, illustrator. The Brave and the Bold. Teen Titans no. 33, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2006. pp. 15)

Simply put, Dick is incredibly empathetic and always in tune with those around him. This is why he works so well as both a Bat and a Titan, and why his personality in each team is so distinct. As a Bat, Dick is often portrayed as cheerful, his bad puns are meant to cut the tension, the is the shoulder for his family to cry one; as a Titan, Dick is a leader, he is a strategist, he demands others take things seriously and will not tolerate slacking off, he is trying to instill good work ethics and ensure that the team dynamic stays in top shape.

As JL Bell writes in their essay Success in Stasis: Dick Grayson’s Thirty Years as a Boy Wonder for the book Dick Grayson, Boy Wonder: Scholars and Creators on 75 years of Robin, Nightwing, and Batman explains, “in contrast to how Robin behaved with Batman. [Dick] is usually [the Titans’] serious leader.” (Bells, JL “Success in Stasis: Dick Grayson’s Thirty Years as a Boy Wonder.”Dick Grayson, Boy Wonder: Scholars and Creators on 75 years of Robin, Nightwing, and Batman edited by Kristen L. Geaman, McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers, 2015, pp. 22)

That is because Dick knows that when he is with his family, he needs to play one role, and when he is with his friends, he needs to play another. The Bats have their strengths, so Dick adjusts himself to play up on those strengths while also making up for its weakness. Same thing with the Titans.

Mark Waid perfectly exemplifies Dick’s adaptability when portraying him in his World’s Finest (2022) and World’s Finest: Teen Titans (2023). There, Dick brings levity to his work with Batman and Superman, keeping an upbeat attitude while still taking the job seriously.

(Waid, Mark, writer. Mora, Dan, illustrator. Manhunt. Batman/Superman: World’s Finest no. 14, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2023. pp. 07)

Yet, when he is with the Titans and feels the weight of leadership on his shoulders, he is more serious, being the one to get the Titans to focus on their objective, getting them to look at the big picture, while also making the most of their abilities as individuals and as a team.

(Waid, Mark, writer. Mora, Dan, illustrator. Team Spirit. Batman/Superman: World’s Finest no. 08, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2022. pp. 05)

So yes, Dick is a performer, a showman, but he is not “attention seeking.” In fact, his use of misdirection illustrates that Dick is a very private person. And how could he not be? While it is true that Dick grew up in the circus, after his parents’ death, he went to live with Bruce, and in doing so, was put into an intense amount of public scrutiny. The murders of John and Mary Grayson happened on a literal stage with dozens of people watching. As a result, Dick’s very private tragedy became a spectacle.

After the death of Dick’s parents, Dick isn’t allowed to disappear into anonymity. He is not afforded privacy to grieve. He is taken in by Bruce Wayne, Gotham’s most famous playboy, billionaire, philanthropic who is also a bit of a selfish airhead (at least, that is how the public perceives him), and as a result, Dick is subjected to an immense amount of public scrutiny, not just from the media, but also from Gotham’s elites, and even his peers at school. Not only that, as Robin, the Boy Wonder and the first ever sidekick, Dick also is put on the spotlight while also being aware of the necessity of keeping secrets.

As a result of having his tragedy broadcasted and having a new mission that requires secrecy, Dick becomes a very private person. He is not an open book; instead, he is meticulous about what he shares and he prevents people from looking at what is not of their business by using his showmanship.

Furthermore, Dick’s role as a performer who, as Joshua R Pangborn describes in his essay about the Robin costume, “experiences […] the full spectrum of emotions, each and every night, for the catharsis of others,” transforms him into a literal vehicle for emotional catharsis and empathy. (Pangborn, Joshua R “Fashioning Himself a Hero: Robin’s Costume and its Role in Shaping His Identity”Dick Grayson, Boy Wonder: Scholars and Creators on 75 years of Robin, Nightwing, and Batman edited by Kristen L. Geaman, McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers, 2015, pp. 42) In their essay, Bell argues that while Bruce Wayne embodied “the mid-century ideal of the American male,” who is always “in control of his feelings, not letting them overcome his judgment nor displaying them broadly,” Dick Grayson “can express deep emotions, not only his own but Bruce’s.” As such, Dick often acts as a sounding board for his family, friends, team, and romantic partners. As a performer, Dick embodies whatever persona is necessary to create a safe environment where others can process their emotions and achieve catharsis. (Bells, JL “Success in Stasis: Dick Grayson’s Thirty Years as a Boy Wonder.”Dick Grayson, Boy Wonder: Scholars and Creators on 75 years of Robin, Nightwing, and Batman edited by Kristen L. Geaman, McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers, 2015, pp. 12)

Dick's performance, then, comes not just from a desire for privacy but also from a deep place of empathy. It comes from a desire to help others work through their own stories. This is why he can step into other's narratives without overshadowing them. In fact, he’ll often elevate those characters by complimenting them and creating the circumstances needed for them to shine. As a performer, Dick is naturally adaptable and always willing to fill the role necessary to create the space required for others to work through their emotional needs.

But, as with everything, Dick’s performance is also a result of his destructive perfectionism. Dick equates “good” to “perfect.” He believes that he can only be wanted by Bruce if he is the perfect Robin, he can only be wanted by his friends if he is the perfect leader, he can only be wanted by his siblings if he is the perfect older brother, he can only be wanted by his partners if he is the perfect boyfriend. As Humphries’s The Untouchable demonstrates, because Dick was raised in an environment where failure could be fatal, he internalized these stakes to every aspect of his life.

(Humphries, Sam, writer. Janson, Klaus; Campbell, Jamal, illustrators. Ruthless. Nightwing: Rebirth no. 37, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2018.pp 20

And it doesn’t help that all of the people in Dick’s life do prove that assertion right. Everyone holds “the Heart of the DCU” to an impossible standard that, when Dick fails to live up to it, he is crucified and punished for it. If he tries to be perfect, he's told off for being the Golden Boy, but if he fails to be the Golden Boy, then he is told off because he let people down when they were relying on him. Ironically, this is done by characters in-universe real-world fans. As Dick Grayson Fan A pointed out in a discussion about depiction of Batman Family members killing their antagonists, “there's always this pressure to have Dick ~fall from grace~ and I do lowkey resent that. Dick should be allowed to be good, not punished for it.”

This creates an environment where Dick constantly needs to maintain perfection in order to be in everyone’s good graces. Failure is not met with understanding and comfort, but with punishment. No one expects him to fail, no one likes when he fails, no one forgives him when he fails. That also means that Dick doesn’t feel safe opening up about his insecurities because to do so would mean “proving” he cannot stay on the pedestal he’s been put on. And so, he is forced to perform the role of a “perfect good guy” by using misdirection so people won’t abandon him for being human (this was said during a very interesting discussion and addressed both canon and fanfic writers. There’s a lot that can be said about Dick’s parentification and how that is viewed in the context of fandom. This is not the essay for it, and, to be perfectly honest, I’m not entirely sure I’m the best person to open said discussion).

Taylor does not portray Dick as someone with this many layers. Taylor’s Dick is perfect simply because he is good. He is the perfect friend, who is always happy to support others. He is Barbara Gordon’s perfect boyfriend. Dick is the perfect older brother, the perfect son, perfect model citizen.

But by equating being “good” with being “perfect” without exploring the negative consequences that come from such pressures, Taylor robs Dick of the emotions that humanize him. In Taylor’s run, a good person will not be angry at their friends, will not be frustrated with their siblings, will never disagree with their romantic partner. This strips Dick of all of his nuances, and instead reduces him to a non-descriptive “everyman hero” with a limited emotional range whose only narrative purpose is to serve as a blank canvas for readers to project themselves into.

Simply put, Taylor is uninterested in writing Dick as a character because he does not see value in Dick for who he is. Nightwing #105, which removes Dick from its story in order to allow its readers to “be Nightwing” illustrates how Taylor and DC at large only value Dick his connections, not for who he is.

(Chen, Jess [jesswchen]. “Tweet Message.” 18 March 2023, https://twitter.com/jesswchen/status/1636971185782259716?s=20.)

Be Dick, and you can be good friends with Superman! You can be Batman’s son! You can be Batgirl’s boyfriend! Robin’s big brother! Flash’s best friend!

As a Dick Grayson fan, this feels insulting. I’m not saying Dick needs to be anyone’s favorite character, or that anyone even needs to like him. I’m not interested in dictating anyone’s taste. But to someone who loves Dick Grayson, it is insulting to think that those responsible for his stories fail to see his value. To Taylor, the person who, as the writer for both Nightwing and Titans, has the most control over Dick’s portrayal, Dick is nothing but a tool that will soon wear off its use.

In treating Dick as such, Taylor and DC send a clear message to those of who love Dick, and that message is that the things that make Dick special, the things that made us love him, do not matter.

For his near century long existence, Dick served as a stand in for those who feel othered in society. While I do not have the time to go into a gender studies and queer reading of Dick, it is notable that his character often spoke to many people who felt different. As Mary Borsellino’s 2006 essay “A lot like Robin if you close your eyes” Displacement of meaning in the Post-Modern Age explains:

The things which a Robin-like figure can contain, but which are cut off from being embodied by Robin himself, lose none of their importance simply because they are rejected by a restrictive, corporate-controlled status quo […] It's worth inspecting what was excised from Robin, and charting where these elements instead found articulation: in those from lower socioeconomic backgrounds; non-White people; young single parents; and HIV positive people. And, especially, girls and women (Borsellino, Mary “‘A lot like Robin if you close your eyes.’ Displacement of meaning in the Post-Modern Age, 2006)

While Borsellio’s essay focuses on the Robin mantle, as the creator of said mantle, such assertions can also be applied to Dick. In fact, Bell concurs with the idea that those who were othered have always took a preference to Dick when stating that “Robin’s status as the littlest guy in the fight increases the character’s appeal for some children, especially the ‘youngest and weakest.’” In other words, it is crucial to Dick’s character that he is not an “everyman hero.” He is not the hero of or beloved by the average individual, but rather by those who were ostracized by society.

Taylor’s writing exemplifies the “restrictive, corporate-controlled status quo” imposed by DC that Borsellino speaks of. His characterization is the manufactured image that removes Dick’s “socially deviant/rejected” qualities his fans loved about him so that he can be palatable to a more mainstream audience. (Bells, JL “Success in Stasis: Dick Grayson’s Thirty Years as a Boy Wonder.”Dick Grayson, Boy Wonder: Scholars and Creators on 75 years of Robin, Nightwing, and Batman edited by Kristen L. Geaman, McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers, 2015, pp. 11)

This, of course, is not necessarily new. As Mason Downey argues in their 2015 essay In Defense of Dick Grayson: Objectification, Sexuality, and Subtext, DC has often struggled between leaning into the audience Dick has and wanting to erase any “othering” elements from his character. As they point out:

The more sexual and idealized Dick was allowed to become, the more attention he got from female and queer fans, the more the industry had to work to combat the past anxieties revolving around the character. This resulted in more and more heteronormative romances for Dick on the page. We can’t grant Wertham’s fears any legitimacy, we can’t make these stories “for girls.” Writers did so in a few ways, some obvious, some less so. On the page, we had Dick’s deflection of female sexuality that he was not in control of, and we had a level of emotional posturing with relationships he was in control of. We had moments where we saw him manipulating with or being manipulated by sex. There were editorial pushes to lean into Dick’s popularity with women and queer men coupled with the simultaneous desire to not acknowledge or grant legitimacy to the fanbase he found in those demographics. This translated to more sexualized poses. More pin-up style spreads. Multiple bait-and-switch wedding, marriage, and relationship teases which turned out to be fakeouts or got written out. Long strings of female side characters were introduced exclusively to be love interests. Off the page, we had more concrete examples. We saw a lack of merchandise and lack of representation of him in other forms of media. There was a pervasive hesitancy in broaching his existence outside of the spheres of already established fans. For example, Nolan’s The Dark Knight Rises featured Joseph Gordon-Levitt playing a character literally named Robin, who was invented for the film franchise rather than allowing Dick himself to exist in that cinematic universe. Dick Grayson is a character built upon one repeated mantra aimed at what eventually become two of his largest demographics, “Remember, this is not for you.”

(Downey, Mason “In Defense of Dick Grayson: Objectification, Sexuality, and Subtext” Women Write About Comics. December 2015)

What makes Taylor’s run unique is that in trying to have Dick tackle social issues such as homelessness and in trying to create a class commentary, Taylor attempts to create a progressive, albeit simplistic, veneer while erasing the important and “other-ing” aspects of Dick’s character that was so beloved by his fans.

This, I believe, is one of the many explanations why many of those who praise Taylor run claim that this is the first Nightwing run they ever enjoyed, while many (though admittedly, not all) those who have been longtime Dick Grayson fans feel betrayed and frustrated by the way their beloved character is being handled. Dick is currently being appropriated into a more mainstream, palatable hero. He is being taken from those who loved him and being scrubbed clean to be suitable for an audience who could not appreciate him for what he was, only for how his connections could give them a wish fulfillment fantasy. As another Dick Grayson fan expressed:

I see no heart in [Taylor’s] work, only soulless marketing. He sells himself as something good and work on his perfect public image and everyone who disagrees is wrong and it gets on my nerves like nothing else. […] I wouldn't be as salt[y] if Taylor was genuinely trying to writing something good. I don't have the heart to [be salty] at someone working with passion, even if I don't like it.

(Henceforth referred to as Dick Grayson Fan B... This was actually said during a discussion in which we expressed how we wish we could be as excited about Taylor’s run as many others are.)

#nightwing #dick grayson #anti tom taylor

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appendectomy · 1 year ago

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people talk a lot on here about wilson accepting house in his whole messed up neurotic entirety but not enough people talk about the inverse. wilson is an incredibly neurotic personality, and although house jibes him constantly for it, in practice he is actually very touchingly accepting and accomodating. i just watched 6x19 which is the episode house tries to break up sam and wilson by doing all of wilson's pet-peeves like stacking dishes in the dishwasher wrong so he'll blame sam and resent her. which yeah is hilariously possessive on the surface. but it also implies that 1. house is aware enough of wilson's eccentricities that he can immediately spot when something is going to irritate him, such as the whole milk-in-the-fridge-door thing, and 2. that house is not only reflexively aware of these eccentricities, but also that he accomodates them enough in their everyday lives that a re-emergence of these annoyances is noticeable to wilson. to the point he correalates it with sam re-entering his life instead of house meddling. and also maybe 3. that house is aware enough of wilson's behaviour and body language that he picks up on what annoys wilson without wilson having to tell him, because wilson hates doing that, or that wilson is comfortable enough around house that he doesn't mind sharing these pet-peeves with him even though he doesn't like sharing them with his romantic partners.

house hates things he veiws as illogical or pointless, he rags on wilson for his obsessiveness about health and appearances, but he also cares enough about wilson to actively change his behaviours to accomodate the things that irritate him. he puts the milk in the body of the fridge instead of the door, not because it's suggested he cares at all about prolonging its shelf life, but because he knows wilson cares. sam balks at wilson and disdainfully suggests he has ocd (which i consider a win for my personal projection onto wilson, but that's besides the point) when wilson brings up his own perfectionism. but house accepts wilson in his neurotic entirety, and accomodates him so that they can live together relatively happily. to me, that suggests that house understands wilson's obsessive tendencies better than most 'regular' people, probably because of his own obsessive tendencies, which makes them complement eachother quite well. wilson is the exception for house, house would give up his crusade against pointlessness and his desire to push people's buttons if it meant keeping wilson around. he'd do it all the while complaining, but he'd still do it. this is the kind of thing that really strikes me bc it shows how comfortable and routine house's love for wilson is. it's domestic, it's relenting, it's just who they are. house's love for wilson is lived-in.

#house md #this ones for my mutuals with obsessive tendencies! make some noise #i really love thinking abt how house and wilson are both differently obsessive. and no one understand their obsessions quite like the other #it speaks to their closeness immenseley bc from personal experience #its so comforting and relieving to have someone in your life who just. gets your obsessiveness.#who you don't have to explain it all too because they already understand. so accomodating really is no demand at all for them.#commentary

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adragonprinceswhore · 3 months ago

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The Way I Feel Under Your Command

Chapter IV: The Way I Feel When I’m in Your Hands I Prev I Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen x Reader (she/her pronouns)

Summary: Yesterday's tryst lingers in Aemond's mind, refusing to let him rest.

Warnings: 18+, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, allusions to smut (oral f. receiving), perfectionism, self-doubt

Word count: 2700

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my darling @randomdragonfires for being this fic's number one fan. ILY Sam 🩵

He still tastes it.

Her.

Tangy and wanting and addictive.

The rush Aemond felt from being with her still bubbles inside his veins as he laces up his running shoes. Not even a night's sleep has helped his inner craving for more.

More of her.

After their tryst last night, when he couldn't contain his want for her, and when she came twice on his tongue, he’d been so dumbfounded as the reality of what they'd done settled in, he left wordlessly while she was still panting, slumped against the grimy wall of the boathouse with her shirt ripped open and skirt hiked up around her waist.

She must despise him now, leaving her yet again.

If she only knew of the panic swirling inside of him. The conflicting feelings of wanting to run away from her and needing to feel her close, just for a little longer.

Maybe it’s for the best.

Nothing can come of this anyway; it’s a relationship doomed from the start.

Like everything belonging to summer, it flourishes now, only to slowly decay and rot away as the dreamy shimmer over Red Lake dulls out.

Autumn, and the promise of an ending, lurks around the corner.

This morning, Aemond doesn’t bother with stretching, eager to just run, until his legs give in and his lungs hurt. He needs that soothing numbness that comes after a good workout; the kind that kills the rowdy demons in his head and allows him to just exist; just be, even if only for a few hours.

Mindlessly, he sets sight on the path that twists around the small hills and trees outlining the resort. There’s no thought behind his direction, he doesn't need one. He knows the ruins of House Crane as well as he knows the spiralling cobblestone streets of Oldtown, and the skyscrapers towering over King’s Landing.

Every well-trimmed tree and carefully groomed bush he passes is familiar. He’s watched them stay the same his entire life. Just like Red Lake, they never seem to age, never grow outdated.

There’s an eternal charm to the resort, in the way it stays the same.

It must’ve looked like this when mum was a kid as well.

Like most mornings, Daeron had asked him if he wanted to join his daily outing.

Today was something about mountain biking close to Goldengrove, a two-hours drive away. For a moment, Aemond had considered taking his younger brother up on his offer. Seemingly the perfect escape; a nice, physical activity with just the right amount of recklessness to keep him alert, without any real risk of permanent brain damage. But there was this voice in the back of his head that told him to stay.

A barely-there, low hum that kept him tethered to the resort.

That voice whispered about her, urging Aemond to seek her out. For what reason, he’s not sure. He can’t imagine that she wants to talk to him. She might even be looking for a new dance partner right at this moment, given how yesterday’s session ended.

By the time his legs ache and lungs fight for oxygen, he finds himself back by the Targaryen villa. And just like the other day, accompanying the familiar scent of roses, is the sight of her.

The fierce pounding of his heart has nothing to do with the run anymore.

There is something that stings in his chest when he sees her, a stab that isn’t entirely uncomfortable, more like the chilling rush he felt when he was with her last time. Addictive and terrifying.

She wears the same radiant smile as always, teaching a small group consisting of mostly men, eager to pull her into their arms as she teaches them a slow-paced couples dance.

But something about her seems different. It’s all a bit too perfect, too polished, like a performance she’s trying too hard to pull off.

And now he sees it. Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

Unsure of whether he should approach her or just leave, Aemond hovers at a distance, temporarily mesmerised by the gentle way she moves, a gracious contrast to the fumbling geezers trying to keep up with her.

Her voice is soft but commanding as she corrects their postures. Despite her overly cheery smile, there’s something magnetic about it. It’s a mask, he knows that much. And yet, he feels her draw him in.

Her hair catches in the sunlight, glinting with each turn, and his gaze follows her almost without realising it.

Aemond leans against a nearby fence, the morning breeze cooling the sweat that clings to his skin.

There’s a tightness in his chest. Not the physical ache from his run, but something else, something deeper.

As she demonstrates proper hand-placement, he can’t help but admire the ease with which she moves, the fluidity in her steps. It’s as if she was made to do this; to dance. To exist in a world of grace and movement.

Still, the memory of yesterday plagues him. The way he left, abrupt and thoughtless, gnaws at him. She doesn’t know how often his mind has returned to her in the hours since, or how he can’t seem to sort his otherwise cooperative mind out.

He told himself he wouldn’t seek her out again. What happened between them was a mistake better left forgotten.

But now, watching her, he feels that same familiar pull. It’s not just the desire simmering beneath his skin. No, something else hides there, a strange sense of regret and the faintest whisper of something more severe.

Something he’s not ready to acknowledge.

She catches him off guard when her eyes flicker toward him, her smile faltering for just a fraction of a second before she recovers. Her mask slips back into place, but in that brief moment, he sees it; the hurt she’s hiding behind the façade.

Aemond pushes off the fence, guilt, embarrassment and longing fighting within him. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to move toward her, determined to say something, anything, to fix what he’d broken.

But even as he walks toward her, the unease in his gut tells him that it’s already too late.

“Can we talk?”

Aemond’s voice is low, almost drowned out by the chatter of her elderly students.

She turns to him, still smiling, but there’s a coolness there now. A distance.

“Talk about what?” she asks, tone light but guarded.

“About… yesterday”

For a brief second, something shifts in her eyes. But she blinks it away, that fake smile widening.

“It is what it is, Aemond. Don’t worry about it. It won’t happen again”

Her nonchalance stings. He thought he’d feel relief hearing her dismiss his worries, but there’s a tightness in his chest, a sharp stabbing he can’t quite identify. It feels too much like the rush he’d felt when they were together; frightening in the most compelling way.

He forces himself to nod,

“Right. It won’t happen again”

Without another word, she turns and leaves him standing there, a hollow sense of regret the only remainder of their interaction.

An entire day goes by, yet Aemond can’t shake the lingering feeling she has instilled in him.

He barely talks during dinner, even quieter than usual. By the time dessert is served, some white chocolate treat he won’t bother reaching for, Helaena lays a comforting hand on his restlessly tapping fingers and asks in a whisper,

“You okay, Aemond?”

“Mm”

Not long after, he excuses himself, and heads up to his room.

The restless energy that had driven him to run this morning has returned, creeping beneath his skin like an impending catastrophe he can’t outrun.

He knows he won’t be able to sleep, or even rest, in this state, and mindlessly grabs his pack of cigs before heading out the door again, moving carefully and with light steps so his family doesn’t notice his departure.

He needs time to think and sort out his feelings, and listening to his brother's endless yapping, or his sister’s concern, won’t help.

He rounds the back of the villa, and walks aimlessly around the abundantly green landscape of Red Lake resort, hoping that the cool night air will settle his nerves.

His mood causes agitation to fume inside him, clouding his own self-hatred and uneasy state.

Why did this bother him so much? Why does he give a single fuck about what a dance instructor at a dusty old resort thinks about him? She can stay disappointed with him until he dies, and it won’t affect his life in the slightest.

As his mind spirals, for the second time today, he is forcefully confronted with the woman that won’t leave his mind.

She’s alone, moving in the dim light of the evening, her figure illuminated by the soft glow of the nearby lanterns.

Aemond watches her body twists and turns in graceful arcs, fluid yet tense, like she’s lost in her own world. The movements don’t have the same seamless elegance he’s used to seeing from her.

There's an edge to them, a sharpness that betrays frustration.

Her arms cut through the air, precise but forceful, as if she’s trying to carve space around her, or push something away.

Her feet slide across the grass, fast, then hesitant, as though she’s caught in an unspoken argument with herself, torn between surrender and resistance.

Every step is deliberate, but there’s a tension in the way she moves, a stiffness that shouldn't be there. She’s fighting the rhythm instead of flowing with it.

Aemond stops in his tracks, hiding in the shadow of a tree, not wanting to disturb her.

Something in the way she dances, so fervent and desperate, tells him to not interrupt.

It’s not the same careful grace she shows when she teaches or performs in front of others. This is personal. She moves as if the dance is both liberating and restricting; a place where she can express what words can’t, but also where she’s trapped, unable to find peace.

Every sharp turn of her body is a silent shout of frustration. Each spin is a desperate attempt to reclaim control.

There’s an anger in her movements, the kind that comes when someone has been pushed too far, and Aemond recognizes it. He’s felt it before; the need to throw yourself into something, anything, to drown out the chaos in your mind.

To Aemond, there’s a beauty hidden in the way she’s unravelling.

It’s the rawness of someone who’s vulnerable, unguarded, and for a moment, he feels an unexpected pull in his chest. A need to reach out and stop her from pushing herself too hard.

But something keeps him rooted in place.

Maybe it’s the knowledge that she wouldn’t want his help anyway.

Still, he can't tear his gaze away. She’s captivating, even in her frustration, maybe especially so.

The fierce determination in her eyes, the way her body refuses to give in, even as her movements falter, reminds him of himself. It’s both mesmerising and heartbreaking to watch.

He’s so used to her being in control.

Always composed.

Always effortlessly graceful.

He watches the tension settle in the arch of her back, the clench of her jaw, the way she bites her lip when she stumbles again, refusing to acknowledge her misstep.

Cautiously, he moves out of his hiding spot,

“Why didn’t you tell me we were practising?”

Her head aggressively snaps to the side at his voice,

“I’m not practising. I need to figure this out on my own”

She sounds as irritated as the tension in her body displays. Aemond watches her for a moment, recognizing the passion and determination etched in her features. It reminds him of his own relentless drive when it comes to perfecting his skills.

Never good enough.

Never satisfied.

“You’re overworking yourself,” he says, tone softer this time, “Take a break”

She sighs heavily, exasperated, but after a beat of contemplation, she nods,

“Maybe you’re right”

She moves away from the grass, and from him, slowly walking towards the nearby dock, feet dragging behind her in a silent invitation for him to follow.

She sits down on the edge of the dock, her legs dangling over the water. Aemond, who’d heeded her wordless instructions and followed her, remains upright, shifting his weight from one foot to another, unsure of whether he should stay or leave her alone.

A suffocating silence hangs in the air. He observes her, but she doesn’t look up to meet his gaze.

Her eyes are trained on her legs, a frown forming between her brows as she digs her thumbs into the muscles of her thighs. She winches and bites her lip to prevent a whimper from escaping, but still continues to amateurishly press into her flesh.

By the sound of a third thinly concealed groan leaving her, Aemond kneels next to where she sits and grabs her leg in a firm hold, steering it so that it rests on his lap.

His touch is firm but gentle as he works his fingers into the tight muscles of her legs, easing the tension that’s built up from her relentless practice. He focuses on her calves first, then moves up to her thighs, covertly enjoying the soft heat of her skin a bit more than he’d admit.

She closes her eyes, leans back slightly, and hums in satisfaction as his hands continue their careful work.

“That feels really good”, she murmurs after a while.

Aemond’s heart beats a little faster at the sound of her voice, so content and inviting. The irritation from before has been swept away by the light breeze of the lake, and he can feel her slowly relaxing under his touch, her body accepting the comfort he’s offering.

“It’s something I picked up back when I did weekly competitions. Your legs need rest”

When he finally pulls his hands away, she glances at him, intrigued in a way Aemond can’t really decipher.

There’s a vulnerability in her eyes now; a crevice in the walls she’s built around herself.

It mirrors the way he feels; scared shitless that the warmth spreading in his chest is anything more than shallow desire.

He moves to sit next to her, careful so his long legs don’t touch the water beneath them. They both observe the lake shimmering in the moonlight, so tranquil and peaceful.

The silence persists between them.

It doesn’t feel natural, not when his mind is swirling with things he’d like to ask her.

Have you thought about me all day too?

Do you ever think about me?

Do you regret what happened yesterday?

Aemond Targaryen wouldn’t call himself a coward. He’s always been fearless, always been eager to prove himself. Never backing down from a challenge, no matter how strenuous. And yet, here he sits, glued to his spot, unable to break the silence suffocating them.

A few more moments go by with his eyes locked on the dark glitter dancing on the surface of the water. Then, the familiar warmth of her fingertips tickles the back of his hand, and he realises that she’s far braver than he’ll ever be.

She moves closer and rests her head on his shoulder, eyes still admiring the beautiful allure of Red Lake.

Aemond flips his hand, and lets her fingers run over his palm.

He gently grabs her hand and lets his thumb run over the thin skin over her knuckles,

“I don’t regret what happened yesterday”

“Me neither”, she replies.

“Good”

The suffocating air between them clouds his senses, and without thinking too much about it, Aemond shifts to the side. He carefully cups her cheek and steers her away from his shoulder and towards his lips.

There is a vibration within him that only starts to buzz when he touches her. Perhaps it’s his greediness; his wish to take all she has, indulge in her touch until he grows tired of it.

He doesn’t think he ever will.

A/N: Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a comment or reblog, it would mean a lot. Kisses!

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond x reader #aemond the kinslayer #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen smut #house of the dragon fanfiction #the way i feel under your command #my fics #Spotify

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drdemonprince · 3 months ago

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Do you have any favourite scary movies?

I love the ambiguity and grief of The Orphanage, and the main character's emotional journey is absolutely gutting.

The Strangers has some of the most subtle, dread-inducing scares of any horror film of its era; if you liked the hidden ghosts in Mike Flanagan's Haunting of Hill House, it owes some inspiration to this film, I think. It truly gave me nightmares.

The newer Suspiria has really stayed with me, and I loved Flawed Peacock's analysis of the film on Youtube as well. I watched both this and the original back-to-back a few months ago, and they're both great in different ways, but nothing tops the haunting, sickening beauty of the end of this one.

28 Days Later is the only zombie movie for me, and yes part of that is because Cillian Murphy was so fuckable in it. I'll never forget the quiet, contemplative air of this movie, which is rivaled only by The Last of Us games. The zombie genre is bloated with derivative crap, but this movie rang in a whole new generation, and did it so well you don't need most of the rest.

The original Saw is a hell of a stage-play-slash-bottle-episode, and it's far more sophisticated in its writing than any of the rest in the series. It really holds up in my opinion.

The Cell isn't really that scary, to me, but it's fucking cunty as hell with incredible costumes and set pieces, and I enjoyed every minute of it. Bonus points for having a minor corruption/hypnosis aspect really tickled my imagination. I just wish that element had lasted for longer.

Speaking of movies that are actually plays -- there's no better Stephen King adaptation than Misery. Kathy Bates absolutely crushes in a nauseating, confining performance here, and the hobbling scene is one you just never forget. To me it's a perfectly paced film, and it holds up shockingly well in the era of stans and superfandoms.

Ghost Ship is my favorite bad stupid horror movie. The opening scene is enough creative nonsense carnage to justify its existence, but stick around through the end for a very weird trip-hop montage.

Dead Silence is another goofy one that gets really inventive with its gore. I love horror movies that do just downright disrespectful, creepy shit with corpses, and that's what this one is all about.

The Boy is a fucking laugh riot to me. The entire premise is so transparent from the very beginning and the thrills are so awkward and tame that it's a great Halloween party movie. If you're anything like me, you and your friends will walk around the house talking about the Boy for days afterward. Brahms is an age regressor king

Some people find Aronofsky's movies to be too over-the-top to connect with, but I think he nailed the internal horror of perfectionism, codependency, sexual repression, and eating disorders with Black Swan. Barbara Hershey's character is so perfectly unsettling that it sets all my people-pleasing, abandonment-fearing issues alight every time. Everything about this movie is confining and distorting, which is exactly how it feels inside when you narrow your entire life to a singular pursuit and are governed by impossible rules.

The Others has exactly what I need for a horror movie to have good replay value: just like The Orphanage, it's final reveal is more depressing and unsettling than it is pure scary, which makes it cut deeper, and it recontexualizes the whole rest of the film. The interiors and aesthetics are great.

Possession is easily the most disturbing movie on this list. This one cuts deep in a confusing, unmooring way -- it makes you feel sick in your soul, hopeless, and put off from relationships. Filming it reportedly ruined Sam Neil & Isabelle Adjani's lives for a good while, and you can see why. This film is the psychological reality of divorce in its unabashed form. To really leave behind a life you once committed yourself to, you have to become almost unrecognizable to yourself, and do great violence to both your former self, and the ones you love. This film gets that, and it's painful. It makes you feel disgusting for wanting things or for staying in a place where you're unhappy.

Happy watching!

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shallowseeker · 1 year ago

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When sociologist Phil Obermiller taught me about “intragroup distinction,” that possibility seemed even more plausible. Despite its high-sounding tone, this sociological concept simply suggests that people who do not fit stereotypes popularly associated with their group find it easier to abandon the group rather than forge a more complete, inclusive and potentially constructive sense of self.

Mark Banker

#non integration of the modern self #sam!!!!!#i’m working on a phd #also cas #anna perhaps #angels and emotions etc #i think sometimes abandoning the group is good but like in anna’s case #to change your category of person can be an exercise in self deception rather than integration #for example anna said angels cannot feel etc etc #which is a reductive company regurgitation #i’m not like Them #i know that sam’s identity to the in group is complex-er than belonging #but there is an inherent classism to his mindset #lofty harvard phd etc #education is not bad ofc not #but harvard has some historical problems with exploration taxes etc #and it is emblematic symbol of perfectionism #sam would snub community college #Harvard’s pride in the myth of its progressive character

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lazuli-starlight · 2 months ago

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LAES Earth Appreciation Post!

[This is something I wrote in the tsbs discord like back in october. But, I think nows a good time to share what I said on the tumblrs]

I love Earth shes awesome. Compassionate and humble but not a pushover or doormat. Feminine and emotional but not portrayed as weak. Not only is she one of the physically strongest characters in all of TSBS (barring the astrals and robots made of adaptium), but allowing herself to openly display and feel her emotions allows her to have a great deal of emotional resilience. Sun has broken, Moon has broken, Lunar has broken, Nex broke x 50. But while she has been upset and needed time to process bad things happening to her, Earth has not broken. And loosing her innocence and naivete did not make her lose her kindness. She just learnt to place value on herself.

And quite often despite being very openly emotional Earth is probably a lot more rational about things (generally) than her brothers (apart from Solar) tend to be.

And I love that there is a feminie character being portrayed as being strong both physically and mentally without it detracting from her femininity or portraying her as cold and stoic. We need more characters like that. ------

To add on to what I wrote back then: Earth is not perfect. She makes mistakes. She has unlikable characteristics. She sometimes has unhealthy dimensions to her relationships. She can even be annoying or make dumb decisions. Just like all the other characters in the show! Because if you haven't noticed, everyone in sams, laes and eaps is a freaking mess of a person! They all have things about them that suck and that is part of why we love them!

I love Earth, because she carries some of the flaws I sometimes find myself struggling with. Like placing overly high expectations on oneself, of perfectionism, of letting my emotions at times get in the way of when I need to be objective, of apologizing too much, of taking responsibility at times for choices and emotions that are not mine, of insecurity in if I'm "good enough" or "kind enough" or "trying hard enough", and of placing too much of my identity and validation in the hands of others at times.

Earth is awesome. and imperfect. and that is why I love her character.

#lazuli talks at yall #tsams earth #laes earth #lunar and earth show #sun and moon show

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sootnuki · 8 months ago

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how do you draw Sam so smoothly? I just want to admire your artwork and show it to the whole world it's so beautiful and shaped

tbh it’s a mixture of practice and perfectionism. i have my own ways of making sam easier for myself (see below) but also. if i don’t get him right i’ll blow up

#ask

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oliverreedmasterass · 4 months ago

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Words: 3k

Synopsis: Greta Van Fleet attend a midnight screening of Rocky Horror and discover something extraordinary. Could this possibly be the best night of their lives?

Warnings: language

Chapter 1

“I can’t believe you two have never done this before,” Josh couldn’t help but muse to himself as he, Jake, Sam, and Danny walked from their parked car to the small indie theater sitting in the outskirts of Nashville.

“We really let them down, I think,” Jake agreed, looking at Sam and Danny with pity.

Sam and Danny looked back at the twins, who were both wearing costumes that they couldn’t wrap their heads around. Sam had asked Josh earlier if he was really sure he was legally allowed to be walking around in public wearing nothing but a golden speedo and a white robe. Josh had retorted that he looked good, so it wasn’t a crime. Jake, while covered up significantly more, was wearing all leather, which made him squeak with every step. They had tried to get Sam and Danny into corsets but, not knowing what they were getting themselves into, Sam and Danny had made their stance firm that they were going to remain in their street clothes, thank you very much.

“I’m just glad we’re getting out tonight,” Danny admitted. “I feel like you’ve all collectively been going through it.”

Their group chat had been flooded with negativity over the past few weeks, to the point where Danny was starting to wonder if they needed to go on a retreat to another haunted cabin to clear their minds. Hearing about Jake’s sapped creativity, Josh’s chronic perfectionism, and Sam’s overwhelming lack of direction made him worried. This was what happened when they took a break from the studio and touring: they tended to get trapped in their heads to a concerning level. It had been Josh’s suggestion that they meet up for a movie night, and Danny couldn’t be more relieved that everyone accepted the invite. It was time for a little escapism.

They made it to the front doors of the theater, and Josh looked around at his friends in glee. “Get ready for the best night of your lives,” he told them, wiggling his eyebrows.

“We played at Madison Square Garden,” Danny murmured under his breath. “That’s gonna be pretty hard to beat.”

Josh tore open the front door and flung himself inside, prepared to be greeted by a hoard of other cult classic film fanatics. What he was met with, instead, was a dead lobby with only a single high school employee standing behind the cash register next to the borderline empty popcorn machine. Jake joined Josh’s side and frowned at the scene.

“Maybe we got the date wrong?” he murmured to Josh. All that Josh could give in return was a half-assed shrug.

“You guys here for Rocky Horror?” the teenager asked them, looking up from his phone.

“We were told it was gonna be the best night of our lives,” Sam replied, unable to stop himself from mocking his older brother. The teenager gave a small smile, but it was obvious that he felt bad for the four men.

“The troupe all caught food poisoning. I’d be more than happy to get my manager to still play the movie for you though, considering you made the trek out and all,” he offered. Everyone looked around at each other. A part of the magic was having the actors in front of the screen, bringing the movie to life. The other fun part was having a packed theater full of superfans.

“Are we the only ones here?” Jake had to ask. The teenager nodded, his lips pursed with an apologetic look. Jake was ready to throw up his hands and call it a night. It would probably take him the rest of the evening to peel his body out of the leather clothes anyway.

“I think we should still do it,” Danny chimed in. “I mean, I’ve heard so much about this movie, I really do want to see it.”

“You’re still gonna be considered virgins at the next screening we go to,” Josh looked between Sam and Danny. “This won’t count.”

Sam and Danny shrugged. They really didn’t know what Josh was going on about with virgins and stuff, so they could care less.

And so, with their tickets scanned and their arms loaded with rice, toast, and newspapers, they made their way into the empty theater. “We have to be in the front row, that’s where the action is,” Josh chirped, rushing towards the screen.

“My neck is gonna hurt,” Sam whined. He went in the opposite direction and planted himself in the center seat of the back row, throwing his hoodie up over his head and placing on some dark sunglasses. Danny looked back at his friend, sighed, and joined Jake, who was sitting in a more respectable place in the center of the theater.

“What should I anticipate?” he leaned into Jake’s side. Jake’s clothes let out a tiny squeak.

“Josh is about to become the most insufferable version of himself.” Jake paused and seemed to be pondering something. “I probably will be too. Sorry in advance.”

Out of habit, Danny clutched onto the arms of his seat to brace himself. Especially in an empty theater, there was no knowing how out of hand things were going to get. Sam seemed to be two steps ahead of Danny in reaching this conclusion, because he was sinking farther and farther back into his seat, trying to disappear.

The projector flicked on, which was met by applause from Jake and Josh. After the Fox logo briefly flashed onscreen, a pair of vivid red lips appeared. Josh immediately let out a primal scream and tore his robe off, baring his exposed chest to the screen. Jake joined his brother, standing in the aisle, and jumped up and down in antici[...]pation.

As the mouth sang the opening, Jake and Josh bellowed along at the top of their lungs.

“Michael Rennie was ill the day the earth stood still, but he told us where we stand…”

Danny shoved his fingers into his ears and felt the dread wash over him that he should have just stayed home and watched golf.

“Sing along, you know this one!” Jake said down to Danny, smacking at his arm with the back of his hand. Danny shook his head with a frown.

“I literally don’t.”

Jake left Danny’s side, to Danny’s relief, and joined Josh so they could continue to holler at the top of their lungs and flail up and down the aisle. Danny thought it couldn’t get any worse until the two started conspiring.

“We should do the performance!” Josh shouted to Jake, holding his hands and looking at him with a wide grin. Jake was so gobsmacked at the suggestion, all he could do was eagerly nod, his eyes wide.

“I call dibs on Janet!” Josh announced to the theater. “Which makes Jake Brad.”

“I wanna be Meatloaf too,” Jake added, motioning down to his leather garb. “It would be a crime to let this costume go to waste.”

“You can be the background characters!” Josh pointed at Danny, nearly smacking him in the face, and then Sam, who had fully planked to the floor in the background, hoping he could go unnoticed for the rest of the evening.

“Come out, Sammy!” Jake barked. “You gotta shake your ass!”

“I don’t wanna,” Sam’s soft whines wafted down from the back row. Danny managed to hustle around Jake and Josh so he didn’t get in the way of their continued dancing, and jogged up the stairs to join his friend. Whether it was to coax him down or hide alongside him, Danny wasn’t entirely sure yet.

“You doing okay?” he softly asked the curled up ball on the floor. All he got in return was a grunt. “If I got popcorn, would that help?” Sam’s low grunts came to a halt.

“Can you get it with extra butter?” he unfurled himself and bat his eyelashes up at Danny.

“You got it, bud.” Danny retreated back down the stairs and booked it to the concessions stand. Whatever it took to get Sam as backup for whatever chaos Jake and Josh were about to unleash. It was looking more and more like an all hands on deck type of situation. It had been a while since he had last seen the twins look that energized, and he was terrified.

“Everything okay?” the high schooler looked at Danny with concern.

Danny was quick to reassure him. “Oh yeah, just wanted to get some popcorn.”

“We, er, really don’t have that much left,” the high schooler trailed off as he peered into the machine. Danny took a peek as well and noted that there were definitely more kernels than actual popped corn. He mulled it over, and then finally shrugged.

“Got an ICEE machine?”

“Yup.”

“That’ll do.”

A few minutes later, Danny returned back into the theater and was almost immediately taken out by a flying bouquet. “Gah!” Danny hollered out, spilling part of the blue ICEE down the front of his white shirt. “Darn,” he grumbled down at the growing stain.

“You gotta throw the bouquet to me, Betty!” Josh called from the front of the theater. “Quick, before the scene changes!”

Danny knew that it was best to play along and ask questions later, so he made sure to pelt Josh in the face with the bouquet. Unphased by this, Josh held it up for everyone to see.

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it,” he mouthed along with Susan Sarandon’s character, Janet, who was plastered on the screen.

As Danny trudged back up the theater stairs, still bummed out from his destroyed shirt, Jake and Josh broke out into an enthusiastic lip sync to “Dammit Janet.”

“Here’s your drink,” Danny stated with a monotonous tone. Sam looked up at him in confusion.

“I didn’t order a drink?” he whispered.

“Just, take it,” Danny sighed, placing the blue ICEE in Sam’s hands. While he looked uncertain at first, it didn’t take long for Sam to start happily slurping down on it, without a single care in the world. Danny gazed back at the front of the theater, where Jake was now on one knee, proposing to a surprised Josh with one of his hoop earrings that he had hastily unfastened from his ear.

“Oh, J-A-N-E-T, I love you so,” Jake sang along with the film, forgetting that he was supposed to be lip syncing.

“Wanna hide with me?” Sam looked at Danny in between sips of his drink. Danny couldn’t help but shoot Sam a small smile when he saw that his tongue and lips were already starting to turn blue.

“Kind of,” Danny admitted. “But I also really want to watch what’s gonna happen.”

At this point, Josh was singing along to the track at the top of his lungs in a falsetto wail, running circles around Jake, who was struggling to catch up with him. Danny was frankly dumbfounded by the entire experience. He had always associated sex and scandal with Rocky Horror, but what was playing in front of him felt more like the opening to some goofy romcom.

Things started to make more sense to Danny when the scene shifted to Janet and Brad getting stranded with a flat tire, and approaching a spooky castle to use their phone. Josh was upping the ante at this point in his performance, juggling between Janet and Riff Raff. It was hard to watch him force all of his lines out before he had to shift characters, and Danny found himself dragging Sam down to them.

“No, no,” Sam choked out in shock. “I need to stay incognito.”

“No one else is here,” Danny tried to comfort his distressed friend. “It’ll be okay, just let loose.”

“If they try to make me sing, I’m leaving,” Sam warned Danny.

“That’s only fair.”

Danny led Sam to Jake and Josh and gave a small wave in front of their faces.

“Sam and I want to join you,” he spoke quickly when there was a break in the dialogue.

“It’s about time!” Josh snapped out of character. Jake nodded enthusiastically.

“You can be Brad,” Josh instructed Danny.

“Which means I’m Janet, right?” Sam’s face contorted into a scowl.

“You’ve got the legs for it, sugar,” Jake joked in a creepy voice, leaning into Sam’s side. Danny held onto Sam’s coat sleeve to keep him from booking it out of the theater.

“It’s astounding, time is fleeting, madness takes its toll…” Josh began to sing along with Riff Raff, opening up his arms to his friends, encouraging their participation.

“What’s happening? I don’t know what’s happening,” Sam whispered to Danny.

“Nice improv, you’re really keeping in character!” Jake congratulated him. Sam looked beyond lost.

“But listen closely…” Josh continued.

“Not for very much longer…” Jake joined in the song.

“I’ve got to keep control!” Josh hollered. Danny and Sam gaped at Josh, who was now wiggling around like he had a thousand bees shoved in his golden speedo. As he roared along to the soundtrack, Jake pushed Danny and Sam forward, which caused them to both call out in surprise, barely catching themselves before they tumbled to the floor.

“What was that for?” Sam barked back at his older brother in shock. Jake shrugged back at him.

“LET’S DO THE TIME WARP AGAIN!” boomed around the theater.

“This is the dance number!” Josh hurried to Sam and Danny’s side to enlighten them. “They tell you all the steps in the song, you just have to follow along!”

Sam opened his mouth to release yet another complaint, but was stopped in his tracks when Jake, Josh, and Danny took a jump to the left, taking him with them.

“Oh Christ!” he yelped out, flailing around.

Danny was having an admittedly better time than Sam. It didn’t take him long to catch onto the dance moves, taking a step to the right, putting his hands on his hips, bringing his knees in tight, and then doing the pelvic thrust. Before long he found that he was singing along with the film, and had broken away from his friends to give himself more space to dance around.

Perhaps the sight of Danny having the time of his life was enticing. By the second chorus, Sam had started to come around. His movements were exaggerated, and his previously furrowed brow was long gone. Sam Kiszka was deeply enjoying himself at Rocky Horror. So much so that he started to lose control. Danny chuckled at his friend’s clumsiness as he started to teeter over while he was doing the pelvic thrust. That laugh came to an immediate stop when, instead of toppling into the screen, Sam went straight through it. Danny’s eyes bulged and he shook his head, trying to make sure he had just seen what he thought he saw. He couldn’t believe it, but it seemed true.

Sam had disappeared.

Still uncertain, Danny crept to the screen and pulled it away from the wall, looking behind it. No Sam. He gazed back up at the rest of the theater, scanning around for his friend, just in case he was playing a prank and hiding. But Danny wasn’t seeing him anywhere.

Beside him, Jake and Josh were still dancing, entirely oblivious to what had just happened. While Danny was typically a more strategic and thoughtful problem solver, the panic that filled his body from head to toe was overboding.

“Sam’s gone!” he shrieked. That did the trick, getting Jake and Josh to stop their dancing. They scanned around the theater, like Danny had done just seconds earlier. Jake scratched his head.

“Like, to the bathroom?” Josh tried to put the pieces together. He was troubled by how horrified Danny looked, but couldn’t conjure up any explanation that seemed fitting.

“Through the screen!” Danny managed to sputter out. Jake and Josh shared an uncertain glance. Apparently today was the day that Danny officially went off the deep end. Jake was on the verge of recommending they take Danny home so he could sleep it off when his eyebrows shot into his hairline. Above their heads on the large screen where the Rocky Horror characters were still dancing was Sam, dressed in a matching suit to the cast, looking around in confusion.

“How in the hell…?” Jake trailed off, unable to form a coherent thought.

Josh had evidently spotted Sam as well, because he was already running towards the screen at full speed. “We have to help him!” Josh called out, before disappearing. Danny and Jake both gawked at the empty place where Josh had just been. Then, slowly, their eyes tracked up to the screen. Josh was now standing next to Sam, wearing a similar suit, flamboyant sunglasses, and a tiny hat. Seeing that Josh had successfully crossed over, Danny gave it no thought. Without a word, he hurried behind his friend, eager to get to Sam and comfort him.

This left Jake standing alone in the theater, squeaking uncomfortably in his leather. He mulled over his situation. It would be best if he stayed in the theater to get help if they needed it, right? But he was really jealous of his friends. He had always dreamed of being in the Rocky Horror Picture Show. It wasn’t fair that they all got to experience it, and he didn’t.

That thought was enough to get Jake to jump through the screen, into the blinding light.

Chapter 2 coming soon!

#gvf #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #danny wagner #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #gvf fanfiction #gvf fic #greta van fleet fanfiction #gvf fanfic #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfic #sammy gvf #danny gvf #jake gvf #josh gvf #fourth wall

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endless-summer-soldier · 2 years ago

Text

ice ice baby - chapter ten

pairing: CollegeHockeyPlayer!Bucky x CollegeFigureSkater!Reader

summary: Bucky is a college hockey player, Y/N is a figure skater without a partner. What's happens when these two opposites start sharing the ice...

warnings: enemies to lovers trope, some alcohol use

word count: 4.3k

taglist: @sebsgirl71479 @whiskeyrosepoetry

series playlist

series masterlist

The team stood on the ice, idling in place as a member of the university acapella group sang the national anthem. It was the first round of the playoffs and Bucky was doing his best to fight off the nerves. He caught Y/N’s eye in the stands and smiled at her, excited that she was there to support him. But her presence made him more nervous because he wanted to impress her.

As the anthem ended and the crowd broke out into applause, the team skated to the sidelines for a drink of water to prepare for the start of the game. Then, an announcement came over the PA system.

“And now we have a very special presentation honoring all our graduating seniors.”

Bucky looked up at the screen in surprise. He peered around to his teammates, but their eyes were all glued to the screen.

The first message was from Steve’s parents, talking about how proud they were of him and wishing him luck in the game. Then Sam’s sister and his nephews appeared, smiling big and gushing over Sam. As the messages continued, Bucky wondered who his message would be from. It could be from his mother, but they weren’t terribly close. Maybe his younger sister, but he hadn’t spoken with her in a while. His question was answered a moment later when he saw Y/N’s face on the screen.

“Hey Buck,” she smiled at the camera, “I don’t know if you realize how much of an impact you have had on me over the past few months. First you swooped in and saved me by agreeing to be my partner. You persevered through my perfectionism and high standards, impressing both of us, which is when you gained my trust. And then, you pushed me outside of my comfort zone. Aside from my mother, you are the only person that has challenged me to try new things and to just stop and appreciate life every so often. Now, I’m not a very sentimental person and I’m terrible at expressing my feelings, but I mean it when I say that I love you.”

She gave one more genuine smile at the camera and Bucky subconsciously placed his hand over his heart. He looked up to find her in the crowd and she was already peering down at him, her bottom lip wedged between her teeth. She was nervous about putting herself out there. Bucky gave her the toothiest grin and mouthed “I love you too.” She drew a heart in the air with her two pointer fingers and smiled back at him. Now he was ready to play.

In the last period, the game was tied 2-2. Bucky was playing extremely well. He had to admit, his figure skating lessons had improved his speed and technique, and his opponents weren’t ready for it.

The clock was ticking down under the two minute mark, and something had to happen. Bucky was not letting this game go into overtime. He looked toward Coach Selvig and made a small T with his hands, signaling for a timeout. Selvig nodded and called for time as the team skated over to the bench.

“I’ve got something,” Bucky told the coach. He dropped his gloves to snag the small white board and marker, drawing out the play he had in mind. As he looked around, his teammates were nodding and Solvig held a thoughtful hand to his chin.

“That could work,” he approved. The team took one final sip of water and then the whistle called them back to the ice. Clint positioned himself in the small circle for the faceoff while everyone else circled around the ice.

The puck dropped and Clint flicked the puck to Peter, who sped down the ice. Bucky and Steve shielded him on either side, keeping defenders out of his way. Peter looked toward the goal and took a fake shot while actually passing the puck to Sam. Sam skated around the back of the net and attempted to sneak the puck into the corner of the goal. One of the defenders saw it happening too quickly, and got a stick on the shot. The puck spun out toward Steve and he effortlessly collected it, skating around to reset the offense. Bucky gave him space, skating back towards the neutral zone to get a read on possible plays. Clint moved opposite Steve and attempted to get open, but Steve didn’t have many options. He passed the puck back to Sam when Bucky saw an opportunity. He skated in to protect Sam, planning to slam the defender into the ice. But Sam had a different idea.

He passed the puck just ahead of where Bucky was skating to and Bucky sped up to claim it. He was expecting a defender to put some pressure on him any second now, but the moment never came. Bucky continued skating to a wide open goal and found he was playing chicken with the goalie. He leaned toward the right, waiting for the goalie to shift, and as soon as he did, Bucky took a shot to the left. The shot clinked off the goalpost and flew into the back of the net. The lights flashed above the goal and Bucky glanced up at the scoreboard. With a mere 15 seconds left, this game was as good as over.

His teammates pulled him into a tight group hug and he heard the crowd going wild. The refs broke up the celebration and asked the players to reset, preparing for the final faceoff. Clint stood in the middle of the circle and easily won the puck, passing to Steve who skated in a figure eight to kill the time. The air horn blew, calling for the final time and the team celebrated once again. They shook hands with the other team and the opposition quickly filed off the ice. The fans were tossing teddy bears, scarves, and mittens onto the ice to celebrate the team.

Solvig approached Bucky and gave him a pat on the back before letting him know the broadcast crew wanted to do a quick interview with him. He skated over to the edge of the rink and answered a few basic questions from the anchor. As much as he was loving the victory, all he could think about was Y/N. He wanted to squeeze her tight in his big arms and tell her he loved her over and over again. As he skated away, he saw her standing behind the glass, smiling at him.

“Come here,” he mouthed and motioned. She looked toward the bench, figuring out how to get past the glass and acted before thinking. She jumped over the barrier onto the bench, and then used the little door to let herself onto the ice. She was surprised to find she didn’t even bother to consider the consequences of this action. She honestly didn’t care if she was forcibly removed from the ice, she just wanted to be with Bucky.

She trode carefully on the ice in her boots, and Bucky did most of the work, striding toward her with little effort.

“There you are,” he said, cupping her face with his hands.

“You were amazing. I’m so proud of you!”

“Really?” He said reflexively. It had been a long time since someone said those words to him.

“Of course. Now I can brag to anyone that will listen about my stud of a boyfriend who scored the game winning goal in the playoffs.”

He smiled and bit his bottom lip as a blush spread to his cheeks, “Oh boyfriend, huh?”

“Don’t tell me now you have a problem with labels. I just announced to this whole stadium that I love you!”

He placed a hand around her waist and leaned in close, whispering “I love labels. Almost as much as I love you.” He closed the gap between them in a passionate kiss as her hand found the back of his neck. He leaned her back into a dip and she squealed in his mouth in surprise.

“Get a room!” Sam yelled. They separated and Bucky returned her to vertical, before telling Sam to shut up.

“Now the real question is, how are we celebrating?”

T W O Y E A R S L A T E R

“I can’t believe this is really happening,” Y/N whispered to Bucky. The two were dressed head-to-toe in red and blue Ralph Lauren layers that consisted of a sweater donning the American flag, a buffalo plaid puffer, blue and red boots, and navy blue beanies with the American Olympic Committee logo. The only difference in their ensembles was that Y/N had on a pair of sleek navy leggings, while Bucky was in white snow pants.

“I feel…puffy…” she managed to say.

“Well you look adorable. You know I can’t resist you in a beanie,” he said, planting a wet kiss on her cheek.

She blushed before pushing him away, reminding him that they were about to walk out with the rest of their country representatives. It was the opening ceremonies for the Olympics and all that was required of them for tonight was to walk out with their flag, smile, and wave at the crowd. Yet this was the moment that everything hit Y/N; not only was her dream coming true, but she was doing it with Bucky at her side.

As much as she would’ve loved to compete with Bucky, it wasn’t possible with his hockey schedule. She found another partner who skated well and was easy to work with. She still turned to Bucky for music recommendations, wanting to keep the crowd and judges on the edge of their seats.

Bucky had made the US hockey team with ease. He’d been playing in the minor league and practicing with the national team whenever warranted. He was drafted by the Boston Bruins after graduation and was scheduled to start practicing with the team following the Olympic games.

Y/N had been training in Lake Placid, which was close enough to Boston for them to see each other when they had free time. It wasn’t ideal, but it worked fine. Bucky’s latest campaign was for Y/N to move to Boston and move in with him after the Olympics. She wasn’t convinced just yet. She had to figure out what her next step was career wise. This would likely be her only Olympics but she wasn’t quite ready to hang up her skates.

“This is it,” Bucky interrupted her thoughts and grasped her hand, as they prepared for the big stage.

She turned to him and said, “No one I’d rather have by my side.”

Y/N had her headphones in and was stretching in an attempt to release the stress she was currently harboring. She was next up to skate and was feeling more nervous than she expected. This was the biggest stage she’d ever skated on and she was trying not to let the pressure get the best of her.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to find her partner Scott, smiling at her. If he was nervous, he wasn’t showing it. He asked if she was ready because they were on next and she merely nodded. The routine was great, but technically challenging. Even the slightest misstep could ruin the whole thing. She pulled herself together and followed Scott to their on deck position.

She was practicing her deep breathing to center herself when Scott nudged her arm ever so slightly. She turned to him, curiously and he merely pointed out toward the crowd. Y/N peered out into the crowd and found the entire USA hockey team seated behind the judges at the top few rows of the arena. Her mouth turned upward into a smile when she saw Bucky leading the pack with a “Y/N for Gold” poster above his head. He never ceased to amaze her. After two years of being together, he still managed to pull off the perfect surprises. The butterflies in her stomach never quite went away when he was around. He caught her gaze and gave her a thumbs up as if to say “You’ve got this.” She carefully placed her fingers to her lips and blew him a gentle kiss. Bucky caught the symbolic kiss in his fist before placing it over his heart.

Y/N turned to Scott with a nod and said, “I’m ready.”

Everything was a blur. Y/N and Scott completed the routine, but she did so without thinking about it. It was like she was commuting to work and all the sudden she pulled into the parking lot, realizing she hadn’t paid any attention to how she got there. On ice, the specifics of the routine weren’t on her mind; she was thinking about Bucky and the first time they skated together. It was a mess, he was all over the place. And yet, they built something out of nothing. Her mind then drifted to their routine at nationals. Bucky pushed her out of her comfort zone, creating an edge over the competition she didn’t realize was possible. Being on the ice with him that day felt magical. The only time she had felt like that before was the first time she skated with her mom. Now, being here on the biggest stage imaginable, she realized that the competition didn’t matter. All that mattered was her happiness. And Bucky gave her that.

She was released from her thoughts when Scott shook her shoulders and smiled at her. She mirrored his expression before glancing up at the rankings, where she saw their names at the top of the board, claiming the highest score of the competition so far. She glanced up into the crowd and saw the US hockey team cheering wildly and all she wanted was to climb up those stands and throw her arms around Bucky.

Before she knew it, she was standing on the podium and they were placing an Olympic gold medal around her neck. This was the moment she had dreamed about her whole life, and yet something was missing. She smiled for the cameras and teared up imagining her mother cheering her on in the afterlife, but what she really wanted was Bucky by her side.

After the medal ceremony, there were several news interviews that she took with Scott and she provided the generic responses she had mentally rehearsed in preparation for this moment. Apart from wanting to find Bucky, she really just felt relieved that all the build up to the competition was finally over. She could finally relax and enjoy being across the world with her person.

Once the press frenzy was over, Y/N and Scott retired to their dressing room, where they would collect their things and head to the dormitories. They were both emotionally drained from all the attention, but they still had smiles plastered on their faces.

As soon as they opened the door, Y/N first noticed the “Y/N for Gold” sign propped up against the vanity and then she found Bucky sitting in her chair, phone out but head turned toward her. In a millisecond, he was up and had Y/N spinning off the ground in his arms.

“There’s my superstar!” he gushed, squeezing her as tight as he could. “You crushed it out there, Ace!”

When he put her down, he greeted Scott with a fist bump and complimented him on a flawless routine. Scott quickly collected his things and announced that he would head back so that they could have some time alone with each other, much to the couple’s appreciation.

Y/N nuzzled into Bucky’s shoulder, happy to be in his arms again.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“Watching you skate today took my breath away. I’ve seen you skate before, but it’s different being with you on the ice. I was always focused more on what my next move was. But tonight, I was able to focus all my attention on you and you were absolutely incredible. I love that I was able to be here to see years of hard work pay off. I am so unbelievably proud of you.” He kissed the top of her head and pulled her in closer.

His words were so genuine and kind that she didn’t know how to react. The only thing she could manage back was, “I love you so much.” She pulled her head off his shoulder and planted a sweet kiss on his lips. As they separated, Bucky held her eyes for a moment and he never felt so connected or so in love.

“You know what, fuck it,” he muttered to himself. Y/N looked at him, confused, and it was only when he held her hands and got down on one knee did she realize what was happening.

“I had a whole plan for how I was going to do this. We were going to go out to a beautiful dinner on a yacht and the server would bring out a chocolate mousse for dessert and right on top would be the ring. But something about this moment just feels right. You’re standing in front of me in your team USA tracksuit with a gold medal around your neck and all I can think about is how desperately I want to marry you. And please know I don’t want to overshadow your Olympic victory at all, I just can’t spend another day calling you my girlfriend when I want you to be my fiance. So, Y/F/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”

The tears had started dropping before he was finished. It wasn’t until Bucky lifted his eyebrows that she realized she hadn’t responded.

“Yes, absolutely yes. I would love to marry you.”

He nearly jumped up from his knee to pick her up and smother her with kisses.

“I love you so much. Did I say that? I don’t think I said that,” Bucky rambled.

“I know Bucky. I love you too.”

He carefully put her down and slid the ring onto her delicate finger.

“Can we still go to dinner on the yacht? Because that sounds really lovely.”

He chuckled, “Hell yeah we’re still doing that. Now we have a reason to celebrate.”

“Okay good. We should get out of here though, you have a big game tomorrow.”

“Yeah okay, but only if you stay and cuddle with me tonight.”

“Now you know I can’t say no to my fiance,” she smiled up at him. He planted a kiss on her head before they collected her things and headed out.

Y/N was seated in the stands, a few rows behind the team, dressed in her team USA gear. The hockey team was warming up to face Canada, a major rival in Olympic hockey. USA and Canada had a history of facing each other in the gold medal game, and this year was no different. She sat there, twisting her engagement ring in an attempt to calm her nerves. Bucky was so close to achieving his goal and she wanted it so badly for him. He was the reason all her dreams came true and he deserved to win something too.

“Excuse me, are you Y/N?” An older man approached her side with a woman who she assumed was his wife.

“Yes, I am,” she responded.

He extended his hand, “Hi, I’m Joe Rogers and this is my wife, Sarah. We’re Steve’s parents.”

Her expression changed from confused to delight, “Oh, hi! So great to meet you.”

“We’ve heard a lot about you,” Sarah said.

“Likewise! I should probably thank you for all the support you’ve shown Bucky. He’s spoken so highly about you both and I know he wouldn’t be here today without you.”

“He’s always been a good kid, he just fell into the wrong group. Watching him grow up to be a wonderful young man has been priceless,” Joe said. It warmed my heart that they spoke so highly of Bucky.

“How lucky are we that our Stevie and James both made the team!” Sarah exclaimed.

“Those two are inseparable. I don’t think they would’ve been able to function being apart for this long,” Y/N added. On top of both making the USA team, they had both been drafted by the Bruins.

Sarah and Joe chuckled and they continued chatting like old friends, keeping Y/N’s mind off her game day nerves. But that only lasted until the opening face off; once the puck was in play, she started twisting her ring again.

Into the third period, the score was 0-0. Both teams were playing extremely well on both sides of the ice, and both goalies saved several shots on goal. While Bucky and Steve were both playing really well, they had nothing to show for it on the scoreboard. It was easy to see why the two had been drafted together; they had a connection on the ice that was telepathic, each knowing exactly where the other was and what they were thinking.

And then, out of nowhere, Canada scored a goal. It happened so quickly that Y/N nearly missed it. One of the players took a shot on the goal and the puck skimmed one of his teammates skates, changing the angle ever so slightly that the goalie didn’t pick up on. It was rotten luck, but sometimes that happened in ice hockey.

There were only three minutes left in the game, but that was more than enough time. It only took a few seconds to score, but the team would have to keep the puck on the offensive side of the ice. Team USA pulled their goalie and added another man on the ice, knowing it wouldn’t make a difference if Canada scored again.

They did a great job moving the puck around and clearing out space for their teammates, but the goalie stopped every attempt at a goal. This didn’t discourage the team, as they continued to attack on offense, but as the clock ticked down, the reality of the situation was setting in. The final buzzer rang and team Canada circled up in a big group hug. Y/N watched Bucky look up at the scoreboard before hanging his head in defeat.

“They put up such a good fight. At least they can be proud of how they played,” Sarah said. Y/N nodded, agreeing with her statement but knowing Bucky would still be crushed.

“A silver medal is still a great accomplishment,” Joe added.

Both teams took off their helmets and lined up on the ice to receive their medals. The Canadians were all smiles while the Americans put on a brave face, but the disappointment was evident behind their eyes. Y/N couldn’t help but tear up a little when Bucky received his silver medal. It wasn’t exactly the outcome they wanted, but she was still incredibly proud of him for coming this far and never giving up.

Once the medal ceremony was over, both teams retreated to the locker room. Joe and Sarah asked Y/N if she wanted to go with them to meet Steve but she passed, knowing Bucky would want some space to process everything before socializing. She sat in the empty arena and watched the zamboni smooth the ice, wondering what she could say to cheer up Bucky.

Once a sufficient amount of time had passed, Y/N wandered out of the arena to find the locker rooms. She poked her head behind the door labeled Team USA and found silence. She took that as a sign to continue and wandered through the rows of lockers, looking for her fiance. She found him lying on the bench, staring at the ceiling tiles, recently showered and dressed in his team USA track suit.

“Hey you,” she said, taking a seat next to his head. Her hands instinctively found their way to the side of his face and she started lightly playing with his hair.

He didn’t say anything, but his eyes floated upwards to find her.

“Let me see it,” she demanded.

“See what?”

“Your medal!”

“It’s not as cool as yours,” he said, handing her the silver medal that had been tucked in his palm.

“Honestly, this will make for a more interesting display in the house. We’ve got two out of three!.”

“It’s not even about the medal. Or losing for that matter.”

“What’s it about then?”

He let out a deep exhale before he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bench so he was almost facing her.

“When you won that gold medal, I felt so full. I was proud of you and I was grateful that I was there to witness your achievement. And I wanted you to feel that way today with me. I wanted to see you smiling in the crowd as they put the gold medal around my neck.”

He hung his head and Y/N leaned into his shoulder and grabbed his hands.

“Bucky, I had that moment today. Despite my best efforts, I cried a little bit when you received your medal. Of course I am proud of you. I’m proud of you for just making it to the Olympics. Winning a medal is even more amazing. And most of all, I’m proud that you never gave up. You left everything you had out there on the ice. I know you didn’t get the outcome you expected, but there is still so much that you should be proud of.”

He turned to her, “How do you always know the perfect thing to say?”

She placed a hand on his cheek, “Because I know you Buck. And I love you more than anything.”

He leaned into her and they shared a kiss that embodied their emotional connection. When the moment felt right, Y/N stood up and held her hand out for Bucky. He took it without hesitation and the two walked hand in hand out of the locker room.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get your gold medal,” she offered, as her final words of comfort.

“Don’t be sorry, I’ve got my gold medal right here.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes hockey player #bucky barnes

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