#year of creation

[captainsophiestark]

Seasons of Love

Dick Grayson x Reader

Materlist - Taglist

Written for my Year of Olympians and part of a bigger challenge being run by @yearofcreation2023​ which features a ton of awesome creators and runs all year! Go check it out, and please pretend I actually posted this in April and not a month late lmao! Final semester of college is a hell of a time

Fandom: DC

Prompt: Demeter; The Seasons, Pigs, Cornucopia, Nature, Poppies

Summary: A LaLaLand-style series of glimpses into the lives of Dick Grayson and Y/N (without the LaLaLand angst).

Word Count: 4,678

Category: Fluff, Humor

A/N: This is my first time writing any DC, Dick Grayson included, so hopefully it’s good and true to character! He’s been one of my absolute faves for a long time, but I’ve just recently gotten the courage to write for him :)

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

LATE SUMMER

I smiled at the kids running around the various animal pens at the fair, smiles on their faces as they got up close and personal with all kinds of different creatures they'd never seen before. Working at the fair outside of Gotham every August was never a walk in the park–and usually included more than one instance of vomit-cleanup–but moments like this made it worth it.

Of course, my coworkers and I were keeping a close eye on everything to make sure the animals and kids were both safe. I was in the pen with the goats helping the kids feed them alfalfa, one of my favorite posts of all time. My reprieve in paradise was interrupted, however, when I heard someone frantically shouting my name.

I turned around to find one of my coworkers coming towards me, waving his hands in the air. He'd originally signed up to be on ticket duty, but had gotten moved to working with the animals thanks to some short-staffing issues. He'd made it clear multiple times he was well outside of his comfort zone, and although he'd been doing a fair job of rising to the occasion, this wasn't the first time he'd come running over in a panic.

I made eye contact and nodded at another coworker who came over to monitor the kids (both goats and humans), then stepped out of the pen to meet Andrew, panic still written all over his face. I took a deep breath and prepared to give him a calming speech, but he spoke again before I could.

"The Wayne kids just let the pigs out of the pen!" he cried.

I just stared at him blankly, trying to process, blinking stupidly.

"The who did what?"

"The Wayne kids!" he continued, still a little breathless. "Well, one or two of them at least. I was standing by the pen with the piglets that are racing in twenty minutes, and the little one managed to let them all out! I didn't notice until it was too late!"

"Okay, uh... I guess stay here."

With that, I started marching towards the pig pen, keeping an eye out for any sign of rampaging piglets. My brain screamed at me to process the "Wayne" part of Andrew's story, but I refused to let it. I needed to deal with the piglets first, regardless of whether the ones who'd let them out were part of the famous billionaire Gotham family.

When I got to the piglet pen, which was nestled just behind the bleachers where people would be able to watch the piglets run around a dirt track later, I found chaos. People were running and shouting all over the place, but the piglets were nowhere to be seen.

"Dami, you go around the left and I'll circle this way-"

"I am not helping you recapture them, Grayson."

"Dami-"

I started to turn to see who was shouting at the same time the shouting cut off, because the shouter ran straight into me like a freight train. We went tumbling to the ground in a heap, and suddenly I found myself staring into the beautiful blue eyes of Gotham's golden boy, Dick Grayson. He smiled at me, and I scowled in response.

"What were you thinking?" I demanded, rolling over and pushing him off me as I moved to stand up. He leapt to his feet and held a hand out to help me, but I ignored it. "Why on Earth would you let the piglets out?"

"I didn't!" he insisted, holding his hands up and looking at me with wide eyes. "My little brother saw them sitting in their pen and decided they needed to be liberated. I've never seen anyone successfully stand in the way of him helping an animal before."

I huffed, continuing to ignore Grayson's gorgeous, charming, easy smile.

"I know you probably don't have a lot of experience with it, but those pigs are treated perfectly well, and they were safe in their pen. Letting them out to run amok in the crowd is putting their well being at risk more than anything else in their lives."

"Tt."

I turned at the sound of an angry, disapproving noise from behind me, then had to do a double-take when I didn't immediately see the person responsible for it. Then, I looked down, and found the youngest Wayne child staring at me with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

"Father has spent enough time working to end the poor treatment of horses at race tracks for me to be unaware of how animals to be raced are treated."

I blinked a few times, honestly not sure how to react to this ten year old staring me down. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Dick Grayson step closer to stand next to me, but I ignored him. Instead, I crouched down to make myself eye level with Damian, the younger one.

"You're right," I said simply. He harrumphed in triumph, but then I continued. "About the horses, I mean. The way they're treated... it's unforgivable. My family and I have rescued any and all of them that we can, and the ones we've managed to save are actually over by the barn right now, being fed all the apples and oats they can eat by the adoring fairgoers."

Damian Wayne's left eyebrow ticked up, the only sign of surprise or approval at my words.

"These piglets, on the other hand, I can promise you are treated perfectly well. They only 'race' at the fair so people can cheer for cute animals. All they know is they're going for a run and then getting all kinds of food and treats afterwards. And honestly, letting them out in the middle of an inexperienced crowd of people is putting them in more danger than anything else in their normal, daily life."

Damian frowned a little, and he opened his mouth and closed it again a few times before finally speaking.

"I... did not intend for them to be in danger. I will return them to their pen."

"It's alright. You were trying to do a good thing for some animals, I could never fault you for that. C'mon, I'll help you get them back."

He nodded, then turned sharply on his heel and set off with purpose in the direction of commotion from fairgoers. I paused to straighten and smiled after him.

"That was really sweet, how you handled that." I turned to see Dick Grayson looking at me, the first serious expression I'd seen from him on his face. "Dami's a good kid, but he's hard on himself about mistakes. Thank you for handling that the way you did."

I gave him a small smile. "Of course. Any animal lover is a friend of mine. I know I literally just met him, but... I could tell he's a good kid."

We shared a smile at that, a more honest and genuine one than the million-watt grin I'd seen from him before. I held his gaze for a second, then sighed and turned back to look at the rest of the fair.

"Alright, enough talking. Let's go catch some piglets."

To my surprise, Grayson actually wasn't half bad at wrangling piglets. He, Damian, and I managed to work well as a team to get each of the little escapees safely back into their pens, and once the task was complete, I left Damian in charge of giving the piglets some treats for their ordeals.

"That was harder than I thought it was going to be," said Dick, coming to stand beside me at the edge of the pen as we watched Damian and the piglets together.

"Yeah, they're quick little buggers. Makes them good racers though."

Dick shot me a smile, and this time, I couldn't help another one spreading across my face too.

"So... this is kind of a subject change, but what are the odds you'd say yes if I asked you to dinner sometime?"

I turned to face him fully now, eyebrows raised. He just grinned back at me.

"You're asking me on a date?"

"Sure am."

"...Alright, sure. You owe me dinner anyway after showing up at my fair and releasing all my piglets."

He laughed. "Fair enough. How does seven o'clock the first night after the end of the fair sound?"

I smiled. "Sounds perfect."

****************

FALL

"You okay? You look like you're about to have a heart attack."

I snapped myself out of my death stare with the cornucopia in the center of the table to face my boyfriend with a vague smile.

"I'm fine," I insisted, waving off his concerns. Dick and I had been dating for a few months now, after meeting at the county fair. It had been absolutely amazing, and I'd gotten to meet a few more of his family members besides Damian since then, all of whom had been just as lovely. Now, however, we were sitting at the dinner table in Wayne Manor for Thanksgiving, and any minute now I'd be thrown into the full Wayne family craziness for the first time.

To say I was nervous would be the understatement of the century.

"Don't worry," said Dick, leaning down to whisper in my ear. "They're going to love you."

I didn't respond, instead taking a second for a deep breath and a last attempt at calming my nerves. Then, the door to the dining room flew open, and the room devolved into chaos.

I got momentarily swept under in the sudden noise, excitement, and energy as the rest of the Wayne kids moved into the room. A second later, Alfred bustled in carrying armfuls of dishes. A few of the kids moved to help him carry in the rest, but only Cassandra and Duke, neither of whom I'd gotten to know very well yet, were actually trusted and allowed to go help in the kitchen.

Dick gave my shoulder a comforting squeeze as he sank into the seat beside mine. I turned to smile at him, but a sudden commotion to my left ripped my attention away.

"Jason, I'M sitting next to her, you already know her well enough!"

"Too late Brown, I'm already sitting."

"Then move-"

Stephanie, who I'd only met briefly a few times in passing, tried to bodily shove Jason out of the chair next to me, but he refused to budge.

"Why are you so heavy Todd-"

"It's called muscle."

"Or it's called-"

"Stephanie, here, why don't you sit across from me?" I suggested, jumping in before things could really escalate. "It'll be easier to eat and talk to you at the same time from there anyway, which means we can keep up our conversation with fewer interruptions."

She narrowed her eyes, clearly aware of what I was doing, but I just kept looking at her with a beaming smile on my face (and thankfully Jason didn't interject). After a second, she huffed a dramatic sigh and started to move around the table.

"Fine. But only because Alfred would be upset if I tipped Jason backwards out of his chair before Thanksgiving dinner even started."

I grinned at her, quickly passing some food over to Jason, too, so he wouldn't take the opportunity to rub in his victory. Once we were safely out of the danger zone, Dick leaned over to whisper in my ear and give me a sly high five.

"Impressive," he said. "If you can pull that off, you'll be fine for the rest of the night."

I turned to give him a more forced smile than I'd given Stephanie. I appreciated the vote of confidence, but nothing that had happened over the past few minutes had done much to calm my nerves.

"Alright, is that all the food?" asked Bruce, clapping his hands and surveying the table as everyone at last settled into their seats. We'd almost had another disaster when Dami tried to bump Jason out of the seat next to me after Stephanie failed, but thankfully we'd managed to avert that crisis, too, with a promised trip to my family's farm tomorrow, just me, him, and Dick.

"Yeah, I think that's everything B," said Dick, looking over the table the same way his dad did. Bruce sighed, then sank into his seat and clapped his hands.

"Alright, then let's eat," he said.

"Don't forget, Master Bruce," started Alfred, at last sinking into his seat at the opposite head of the table from Bruce. "We still need to say the things we're thankful for."

"You're right, Alfred. Thank you for reminding me." He finished scooping a serving of stuffing onto his plate, then looked up. "I'll start.

"I'm thankful for all of you, safe and sitting around the table for dinner. And I'm also thankful that Y/N could join us. I think we're all looking forward to getting to know her better."

He gave me a kind smile and tipped his wine glass in my direction, and I tried to smile back despite the fact that my heart was pounding in my chest. I'd met Bruce a few times before, but he was still my boyfriend's dad AND Gotham's favorite son (other than maybe Dick). I couldn't help being nervous, since his approval was one of the ones that mattered most to me.

"Alright, that's great," said Jason, bowling right through the moment of silence that hung after Bruce's words–my hero. "I'm thankful for Alfred's cooking."

Every single one of us around the table cheered our agreement at that, and Alfred smiled. The turns moved quickly around the table after that. I had a brief moment of panic when it became my turn, but thankfully, it only lasted for a second before I managed to pull it together.

"I'm thankful for Dick, and for all of you letting me join your family holiday celebrations. I can't wait to get to know you guys better."

Everyone smiled at my answer, and as soon as the spotlight was off me, Dick took my hand under the table to give me a little reassurance. The conversation moved on from Thanksgiving gratitudes, and slowly, I gained confidnence and comfort participating as a member of the group.

I asked Dami about his pets and was honestly happy to listen for the better part of an hour. Jason and I ranted like the biggest nerds on the planet over our favorite books and our TBR piles, and Tim and I connected over a mutual childhood love of Nancy Drew computer games. Duke was the easiest person in the world to talk to, and he made a point of including me in conversations when I started to feel a little lost. Stephanie was so bubbly and friendly, even when she was not-so-subtly grilling me on my entire life, and although Cassandra seemed a little less eager to loudly jump into conversations with me, Stephanie helped bridge the gap and we got along wonderfully. Although they made me a little more nervous, Bruce and Alfred were also nothing but welcoming and kind. It wasn't too long before I was completely at ease, laughing and joking along with the whole table without a doubt about whether I belonged there.

Even when it came to the most ridiculous debates I'd ever been a part of.

"I'm just saying, capes look cheesy," said Jason. "It's fine for a little kid, but grown adults running around in capes look ridiculous."

Stephanie scowled like he'd just insulted her mother. "Oh yeah, because all the vigilantes running around in vests look so incredibly cool."

"No kidding," Tim jumped in. "Red Hood, for example. We all remember that terrible red pill helmet he wore when he first showed up. Or Nightwing's Discowing suit?"

Stephanie snorted into her drink, and Dick's mouth dropped open in shock. Jason started going a little red in the face.

"Brown and Drake are right," said Dami, his tone conveying he meant for this to be the final word on the matter. "The capes can serve a number of different purposes, and would be ridiculous to remove."

He turned to give Dick a pointed look, but I decided not to try to decipher it. I had more important things on-hand.

"Honestly, I say this with nothing but love for the three of you, but I have to agree with Jason," I started, finally jumping in. Everyone perked up at that, turning their attention to me, but I didn't let it deter me. "I mean, haven't any of you seen The Incredibles? No capes! There's like a whole minute-long thing on why capes are generally a bad idea for superheroes.

"And granted, we haven't seen anything like that happen in real life, at least as far as I know," I continued. "And maybe it doesn't matter as much for the indestructible heroes–Superman could probably get chewed up by a jet and survive, I guess. But other heroes, I don't know what they're doing! Somebody really outta show Batman that clip, make sure he knows the danger he and his Robins and everybody might be in."

Everybody stared at me for a second, faces blank, and I started to sweat thinking I'd said something wrong. Then, people broke out into variations of grins, laughs, and agreement with my point that Batman really needed to be more aware.

"I don't know if I remember that clip very well," mused Dick, grinning at Bruce and then the rest of the table as he slid an arm around my shoulder. "Could you pull it up?"

"Sure!"

"Hey Dick?" called Stephanie across the table, her voice dancing with laughter as I searched for the video. "I think I speak for all of us when I say, I love her."

Murmurs of agreement sounded around the table, and my face warmed. I glanced up to give an appreciative smile before going back to my video hunt.

"You better marry her, or we'll have to make Todd do it to keep her in the family," Stephanie continued.

My heart stopped dead in my chest for a second at the idea of marriage as everyone around the table laughed or agreed with her. Then, I couldn't help smiling and laughing too, especially as Jason faked a yawn and stretched his arm around my shoulders before having it playfully smacked away by Dick. My boyfriend pulled me a little closer into his side and gave me a soft smile.

"Alright, let's see this clip," he said, addressing the group as they kept snickering together. "B, lean in here, I think you'll really like this one."

Bruce sighed heavily, but leaned in anyway as the rest of the group shifted too. Edna Mode launched into her speech as I held out my phone screen, Dick and his family gathered around me, and my heart absolutely swelled with love for every one of them. Dick and I really hadn't been dating long enough to be seriously thinking about marriage, but still- in this moment, I could start to picture it.

And I really liked the picture.

****************

WINTER

Whap!

Dick, my boyfriend of a little over two years, whirled around with a betrayed look on his face after I nailed him in the back with a snowball.

"Babe," he whined, his tone wounded. I just shrugged.

"It's training. You need to be aware of your surroundings. CONSTANT VIGILANCE and all that."

Dick raised his eyebrows and took a step towards me as a mischievous grin took over my face. A few months ago, when Dick and I had first seriously started talking about the possibility of marriage being the result of our relationship, he'd finally let me in on the Wayne family secret: not only was I dating the famous Dick Grayson, I was also dating Nightwing the vigilante. The Wayne family was one in the same as Batman and his extended vigilante posse. The few conspiracy weirdos on the internet insisting Bruce Wayne Is The Batman were right.

When he'd started to tell me, I'd first thought he was proposing. He'd been so serious and dramatic, and he'd done it at the end of a romantic, candlelit dinner we'd made together in my apartment. Then, once I realized what he was actually saying, my second thought had been oh, so that's why everyone loses their minds whenever I voice an opinion on a superhero.

At first, it had been a little hard to cope with the new worry that came with knowing my boyfriend put his life on the line every single night. News reports about the Bats and their enemies raised my anxiety WAY more than they ever had before. But Dick had been wonderful, reassuring me and helping me understand all the ways he'd found to stay safe and come back to me. And when that wasn't quite enough, the rest of his family stepped up to support me like one of their own.

Now, a few months after learning their secret, Dick and I were taking a rare full weekend for ourselves. We'd headed up to the mountains for some skiing, hot chocolate, and cuddling by the fire at his family's cabin, just the two of us. After a morning on the slopes and a delicious lunch, we'd decided to go on some of our favorite snowy hiking trails to take in the fresh mountain air.

Hence, my start of the snowball fight.

"You know, I'm pretty sure I'm the one who's supposed to be training you," said Dick, closing the distance between us further. He and his family had been giving me self-defense training at my request, but we'd decided to take a break for the weekend.

"Mmm I'm not sure," I said, shifting backwards a bit to get out of Dick's reach. "I think I'm right."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Then you probably have the better reflexes out of the two of us, right?"

I knew exactly where this was going. I grinned and tried to get my head in the zone before I answered, overconfident to the last.

"Definitely."

"Hm." Dick smiled at me, and then the next thing I knew, he'd wrapped his arms tightly around my waist before I had a second to react. I half-heartedly tried to wiggle free, but before I could, Dick picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. I held on to him as tightly as I could, ready for him to dump me in a snow bank and ready to drag him down with me when he did. But the flip into the snow never came. Instead, Dick started walking with me still slung over his shoulder.

"Babe? What are you doing?" I asked, trying to push myself up enough to see where we were going. "I was all ready to wrestle you down into the snow with me."

"Just trust me," he said. Even though I couldn't see it, I could hear the smile on his face. I huffed.

"This isn't exactly comfortable, you know."

Dick just chuckled. We walked a few more steps, then at last, Dick set me down again, keeping his hands around my waist as we stood chest to chest.

"I may have lured you out into the woods under false pretenses," he said, a brilliant smile on his face. I raised an eyebrow.

"If I didn't trust you so much, I might be a little worried."

He smiled, then looked at a point over my shoulder before nodding for me to turn around. I did as his hands dropped from my waist, and I came face to face with his whole family standing around the gorgeous snowy clearing. Each of them held candles or roses in their hands, and they were absolutely beaming at me. I looked at each of them, waiting for some hint or answer about what was happening, but no one gave me anything. Then, I heard Dick's voice from behind me.

"Y/N?"

When I turned, I found my lovely, wonderful boyfriend down on one knee before me, an open ring box in his hands.

My hands flew to my mouth and I started to tear up a little as the situation sank in. Dick smiled, his own eyes a little wet as he continued.

"You are the love of my life. I had no idea when I first accidentally tackled you that you would become the most important person in the world to me, but you have. You make me a better version of myself, and every day I can hardly believe I'm really with you. You not only match me and love me, but you do the same with my family, which truly not many people can do. I can't think of a better person or partner I'd want to go through life with. So will you please do me the honor... of marrying me?"

"Baby... of course! Absolutely yes!" I cried, the tears fully flowing now as I dropped to my knees in the snow to join Dick. I threw my arms around him and held him tight, and both of us stayed like that for a few long moments before Dick pulled back, tears glistening on his cheeks and a smile on his face. He pulled me tightly to him and kissed me. I kissed back, running my hands through his hair as we got lost in each for a few moments before we pulled apart again. I held out my hand, shaking just a little, and Dick slipped the ring on my finger.

Cheers sounded from behind us, and I came back to reality as Dick's family came over to congratulate us. I wrapped each of them in my best bone-crushing hug, making sure they knew how happy I was to be joining them as family in the near future now, too.

After we'd all exchanged hugs (reluctantly or otherwise), I found Dick at my side again, wrapping his arm around my waist. I tucked into his side and it felt like I'd always belonged there.

I couldn't wait to spend the rest of my life just like this.

****************

LATE SPRING

I took a deep breath and stared at the double doors in front of me, my heart pounding in my chest. I couldn't wipe the biggest, cheesiest smile off my face, no matter how hard I tried. Today was my wedding day, and I couldn't be happier.

Steph and Cass had helped me find the perfect dress. My bouquet was filled with red poppies, my favorite flower. Dick and I had worked together to plan a dream wedding for the both of us, and now everyone we loved was gathered here to celebrate with us.

Everything was perfect.

I heard music start up, then a second later, the doors swung open. It didn't quite feel real as I took my first steps down the isle, towards Dick Grayson and the rest of my life.

It started to feel more real when I finally reached him, standing in front of so many people with eyes only for the man before me. We stood together, hand in hand and eyes locked on each other as the ceremony went on. We read our vows, said "I do", and before I knew it, we were married.

Dick swept me off my feet in a kiss as the crowd cheered. We laced our hands together and ran down the isle together, deliriously happy as our friends and family sent us off. We climbed into the waiting car as the door shut behind us, and I snuggled up against Dick's side before leaning up to give him a kiss. Finally, it felt real.

"I love you, Dick Grayson," I said, smiling up at him. "I can't wait to throw around the phrase 'my husband' until every single person we know is sick of it."

Dick laughed. "I love you too, Mrs. Grayson. And I can't wait to see who breaks first."

"My money's on Jason, unless anyone else says it's annoying first. Then I think he'll back us to mess with everyone else."

Dick laughed, then leaned in to give me a soft, tender kiss.

"I love how well you know them."

"Well... they're my family now, too."

We shared a smile, then settled into comfortable silence together, leaning against each other for support while we rested for the little bit of time we had now before the reception got into full swing. Tonight would be a long night for both of us, but I absolutely couldn't wait. I loved Dick with my whole heart, and going through every part of our futures together–good, bad, and crazy–was the best thing I could possibly think of.

[deadhumourist]

YSC: Euphoria

Pairing: Pero X GN! Reader. No pronouns used for reader, some physical description of reader that is non-indicative of race. Vague but you'll see what I mean with that. POC friendly.

Summary: Something is afoot in Pero's village, and he has no interest in it...but it starts taking an interest in him.

Warnings: Fantasy and science fiction themes, mentions of medical procedures, gambling, unfaithfulness and religion. Please DM me if you have any questions before reading.

Words: 2700ish

Rating: 18+

A/N: It's been an extended break, but I'm determined to make up the months I missed in @oonajaeadira and @writeforfandoms' fabulous Year Of Creation Challenge. So here we go - Year of Science Fiction! Special shout-out to @beskarberry whose fantastic sci-fi stories warped my brain in the best way possible and @just-here-for-the-moment for generally being an angel and putting up with me and my writing.

_______

PART 1 (Part 2 to follow)

_______

It started in the dead of night in a small village in Seville, Spain.

A woman came running out of her cottage, hysterically screaming that her marido was gone. In the cold moonlight, her anguished sobs echoed against the worn brick-and-stone houses, with the wind carrying it further down the cobbled streets to be swept away into the night.

Slowly, doors on the street creaked open, the neighbours’ curiosity too much to contain behind windows and curtains. One or two of her acquaintances helped her up from where the grit between the cobbles was digging into her knees, and took her back inside, shushing and talking softly to her in scant comfort. A few men resolved to find him, as he could not go far in the small village surrounded by fragrant orange orchards.

They pulled on their jackets and work trousers, setting off with firelight to bring the wayward man home.

When the first rays of daylight painted the sky in light blue and gold, the intrepid men had not found a single trace, not one tell-tale sign that the man might have made his way over the hills.

That week, the strange occurrence was spun through the town gossip like twine. The fact that it was inexplicable didn’t stop the villagers from making it decidedly human.

“He always did have an eye for beautiful women, it looks like he has run off with one of them. Poor Lucía.”

“Gambling debts will be your downfall. I heard that he had unlucky fingers if you know what I mean.”

The woman bore the heavy brunt of judgemental pity. She could feel eyes following her, conversations suddenly hushed when she came closer. The scandalised widow, or divorcee, depending on which branch of gossip you were following.

Until another disappeared.

One by one, villagers seemed to be snatched from where they slept.

Men and women of working age.

Never children.

Never elders.

For weeks, in the darkest hours of night, the people of Seville would disappear without a trace, never to be seen or heard from again.

The town got scared.

—---

Pero Tovar picks up a lemon from the crate of fresh produce in the market, holding it to his nose - the fresh, invigorating smell was something he would never tire of. After his ordeal in the East all he wanted was to settle down in a small village and lead a simple life. The bag of gold that he was sent back with had allowed him to make a home here as the resident cooper - his casks, barrels and vats were known to be of excellent quality.

If Pero was completely honest with himself about his chosen profession, he enjoyed the repetitive, rote nature of the task. Taking something forged in fire and forged from nature and making it one, over and over.

For the last two years, Pero had delighted in enjoying the simple pleasures that life as a mercenary did not allow. Sleeping in the same bed, a relatively soft one. Going to the market to buy food for the week. Seeing the same faces in the predictable rhythm of a small town.

A rickety wagon barrelling down the street interrupts his reverie, and he turns in his stead to watch it.

The greengrocer leans over conspiratorially, answering a question that Pero didn’t ask.

“He’s arrived. The town elders have sent for a priest from two villages over to bless this place. Dark spirits are behind this, you know.”

The grocer smirks by himself like he is sharing the most delicious gossip.

“It is a pile of shit.” Pero replies in his usual blunt manner. But his eyes track the cart until it disappears around the corner of the street on its way to the church.

Huffing, he tosses the lemon back into the pile and picks up his purchases to walk away. He takes little notice of the people milling around him as he stalks home. He is no stranger to the supernatural, but he refuses to believe that there is something as simple, as banal, as evil at work here.

At home, he starts a pot of stew for supper and sits down at his rough-hewn table to sharpen his knives. Chants from the church are carried on the wind late at night - a haunting imploration for the spirits that have brought misfortune on the village to cease their machinations.

The sound grates Pero’s nerves and he tries to refocus on cleaning his hunting knives, gritting his teeth as he finds a tiny scuffmark on one of the blades. His sword lays to the side on a soft leather cloth, already polished to a glimmer even though it has not seen a battle for many years.

The chants die down eventually and Pero methodically sheathes every blade, carefully wrapping them up in the cloth and putting them away. Only his dagger remains, which he keeps under his bed, because he is retired but not naive.

After having a solitary meal of bread and game stew, Pero gets into bed and expects to drift into the dreamless sleep of a man that does physical labour all day and is at peace with his life.

But tonight Pero dreams.

In his dream, he drifts, feeling cold air rush past his limbs and through his hair. The warm light around him feels thick, tangible, and he tries to curl his fingers around wisps of it that shimmer around him. He can’t see much but the sensation of falling forward into warmth is comforting, enjoyable even. A smile curls around his sleep plush lips as he feels his body become heavy again.

When the cold air rush stops, his eyes flicker open and for a moment Pero tries to focus. When he does, he scrambles out of bed like lightning.

This is not his cottage.

He crouches by the side of the cot, looking around wildly. Bright blue lights bleed through a thick white smoke that surrounds him. A soft whirring sound, with an occasional crackle and snap, which sounds strange to Pero’s ears, are the only sounds in the space. Until you cough.

“Be greeted.”

A long beat follows.

You tap the translator arc lodged in your ear, turning to your colleague.

“Is this thing set to the correct dialect? He looks confused.”

Friiptrin crosses his arms and sighs. “He looks confused because he just woke up from their daily dormancy. At least this one is not screaming.”

You are thankful for that too. The screaming always rattles you, no matter how many times you hear it.

The man in front of you hesitantly waves in front of him, seemingly trying to clear the air.

"What is this smoke? Where am I?" he roars.

You chew your lip, trying to think of a way to explain what he calls smoke.

"It's an incorporeal containment field. It's just to keep you in one spot until you adjust to the new environment. We previously had physical restraints but they hurt themselves and…well that's just no good. Injury releases prostaglandins which muddy the har…"

Friiptrin gestures for you to cut it off, scowling. Your voice dies away as you realise you're rambling about something he won't understand.

Another long beat passes and you attempt to answer his second question.

"And you're aboard the Atriscemy, mark four." You finish lamely, half-sure he won't know what that means either.

Pero is no wiser and the words you’re using go over his head.

"What do you want? Are you going to kill me?" He hastily crosses himself, an old habit and source of comfort that started with his abuela.

You sigh, feeling a twinge of pity.

"No, no we aren't. Look, I'll even come say hello. But please promise not to hurt me, I don't have weapons."

Your colleague's face says that this is at least the third bad idea you've had since the human dropped into your ship.

Stepping out from behind the console, you slowly approach the centre of the room, the octagonal floor tiles softly illuminating as you step forward.

"I'm coming towards you, and I'm going to clear the containment field so you can see, okay?"

Pero huddles in tighter, anxious of what will appear in front of him when the thick smoke clears.

When it starts moving and swirling away from him, his jaw drops.

A human but very much not human.

He looks you up and down like he had never seen anything like you. You're humanoid alright, but your eyes are a warm purple colour with an overly large pupil, edged by a half-moon silver arch that almost glitters when you turn. On the outer edge of your hands, light, feathering scales run up to the edge of the pinky on your six-fingered hand. The fine gradient that fades from dark purple to light teal shimmers as it catches the light in the teleport bay.

"Heh, no one's looked at me like that since I showed them my glorbs at the triangular solstice party" you attempt a joke, laughing feebly. If it is meant to break the tension, it does nothing and you can feel the air change around you. Time to change tack.

"Okay, I know you have questions, but I think we need to get you into the lab first. There we can look you over and make sure you're fed and watered and free of any ailments and diseases. Sometimes the displacement field disrupts their gastrointestinal tract and.."

Pero doesn't like the sound of any of those words except for fed, but as soon as he moves to stand up, his body bends in half of its own volition and he vomits on the floor.

“...they forcefully empty their food organ. Great.” You finish your sentence flatly.

Pero wipes the last traces from his mouth with his sleeve and looks at you accusingly.

"Send me home, what do you want with me anyway? I am a simple cooper."

You slowly sink down onto your haunches, taking a risk because the human still looks like he wants to throw something at you.

You hold out a hand to him. "Come on, let me show you. You have so many questions and I can't fully answer all of them yet."

You beckon to him.

"Well do you wanna know or not?" you huff impatiently.

Pero scuffles closer like a feral cat reluctantly coming closer to a bowl of food.

You look him over for any obvious injuries and spot one.

"Okay, you have a near-ocular bisection. Now we just need to…"

The moment you raise your hand to touch it, he flinches away, hands raised in defence.

"I'm just going to touch it, okay?" you lie.

He brings his hands down but watches you from under a furrowed brow.

The moment your finger smoothes over his brow, a sharp pain shoots through it and Pero feels like he's reliving the blade slicing through his skin again.

He growls at you, pulling away but you grip his bicep and keep him steady.

"Hold on, it's almost over."

When you remove your finger Pero reaches up to feel the scar and…there's nothing. Disbelievingly, he pats his eyebrow in different spots, trying to find the puckered scar that had been there for years.

"Neat, huh?"

"How did you do that, witchcraft?" He scowls.

"I don't know what that is, but this? Localised temporal absolution, something we learn from a young age. It's really simple, all you do…"

"Stop talking, por favor" He growls at you.

You straighten up again, his bluntness reminding you that there's protocol to follow. This human doesn't seem to have any items on him and healing his scar seemed to have mollified him enough to reduce him to a simmering grumpiness instead of fury and fear. You could work with that.

Holding out a hand to him, you deactivate the containment field completely and pull him upright. Pointing to a sloped corridor behind him, you jut your chin out. "Lab's that way. I'll be accompanying you to your quarters once they've looked you over."

Walking by his side, you pass several pods on the way to the lab. The man seems to be cocking his head every now and then like he is trying to hear something. Occasionally as you pass a pod you can hear a low moan, sometimes a released sigh of breath. Nothing you haven't heard before passing these pods.

He decides not to ask yet, and you're grateful.

Entering the lab, you motion for him to stand under a moulded rubber frame. He opens his mouth to ask something but never gets to because the next moment his clothes disintegrate from his body and a fine mist bursts out of sprayers overhead.

When the spray dies down, his mouth opens in big sucking gasps, filling his lungs and he glowers at you.

You hold up your hands. "Earth is dirty, don't look at me like that. We washed a seriously contagious strain off someone just last week. It made humans break out in small red dots and some even perished from a high internal temperature. We lost three pods just from that."

Pero's brow furrows.

You motion for him to stand under the second frame, and a warm current of air slips over his naked body, drying him completely in the space of a few minutes.

While he stands there you forget all professionalism and allow yourself to take in the details of the human's body. Broad shoulders taper into a narrow waist, the lean but strong cords of muscle moving in the bright lab lights as he lightly shakes his arms to remove some of the wet residue from the impromptu shower.

A tuft of dark hair dusts his chest and when your eyes drift further down, you see strong legs move impatiently as the dryer whirrs back down and eventually stops.

This human is clearly not uncomfortable being in its natural state, and you find no reason to apologise as he meets your eyes.

"Seen enough?" he grumps at you.

"Your biology is not compatible with mine, so this is quite literally, for science." You quip.

A physician bobs into the lab, two of the lab technicians on his heels. He seems in a great mood and smiles at you both. "Well, well, a new incumbent. A male this time, fantastic." He sits down on a flat-seated chair and motions for the man to move closer to him for inspection.

Pero reluctantly steps closer. The darker, green colouring of the doctor is slightly different from yours, and he marvels and the brilliant colouring. The last time he saw anything like it was when a Taotie was barrelling towards him.

Even though you are clearly not from earth, no one here seems dangerous. And there was a promise of food. Even though his starving mercenary days are behind him, he never can resist a meal.

After some prodding at Pero and tapping on a small screen in his hand a few times, the doctor smiles up at the man, then turns to you.

"Excellent specimen. Highest levels of testosterone I've seen in a while, actually. Ensure he is comfortable, and you'll likely have a record harvest. His endocrine system is healthy, as are his extremities."

You nod knowingly. "So his shlip is in good condition."

The doctor looks baffled.

"His what?"

"His schlip" you repeat, pointing at Pero’s lower half.

The doctor flatly responds "You mean his penis?"

"His what now?"

Pero, alarmed at the turn of the conversation, anxiously pipes up with "What about my penis?"

"Wait, that thing is called a penis?" You ask.

"Yes" the doctor looks at you flatly.

"So I've been calling it the wrong name this whole time?"

The doctor just stares at you.

One of the lab techs unsuccessfully suppresses a giggle and disappears around a corner.

Embarrassed, you bring your palm to your face and motion to Pero with your other hand.

"Just…let's get you to your quarters."

------

Comments and reblogs appreciated, thanks for reading!

[simpingcowboy]

Kisses of Fire

Pairing: Ezra x GN!Reader, no use of Y/N, reader is a prospector

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: canon like violence, blood, kissing?, non-explicit mentions of sex/oral sex, pet names

Summary: Your relationship with Ezra was a delicate one. Reliant on convenience and mutual pleasure, but at one point everything changed.

A/N: May's Year of ABBA, as part of Year of Creations @yearofcreation2023 brings us to my first ever Ezra fic! He was a bit intimidating, but I'm happy to have given him a shot! :) You can listen to the song here as Tumblr hates ABBA and will not let me properly link it.

"Oh Nova…what have you done to me?" Ezra asks in the dark. The pale light of the moon barely penetrates the nylon tent. What light there is has cast a soft yellow glow over the entirety of your belongings as well as both your bodies.

Your head on his chest, sleeping to the sound of his heart beat. His fingers dance over your parted lips. Searching…digging in the dark for an answer to explain one of his life's more recent mysteries. A nick of flint…he reckons. Reasons it to be the cause for the spark he feels each time you kiss. But as his finger drags over your lips, eyes too inspecting best he can in the dark, all Ezra can feel is the softness of your flesh and a pounding in his heart.

Ezra has had his share of love affairs. Men, women, anyone between or beyond…made no difference to the prospector. Who was he to be selective when The Green itself took all equally? And in his many cycles of solitude and isolation, he learned early on to take what he was offered. A lesson you too had caught onto quickly.

You'd never been helpless. Surviving on your own for many cycles of your own, before you crossed his path. Star crossed lovers meet out on the open green, guns pointed, feet braced, waiting for the other to make the first move. The opportunity of which is swept up by Ezra.

"Well well well…to what do I owe the pleasure?" He says with a grin, his voice low and raspy. A foreign twange in his voice that pulls you in.

"I'm a prospector." You answer simply, gesturing to the untouched dig site between the two of you.

"As are most on this moon, Nebula." He states, taking in the sprinkle of vermillion dust coating your dark black suit. "I'm gonna need you to get more specific. You see …this here dig holds my next harvest." The man explains, emphasizing his perceived ownership over the ditch. "So I ask again, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

It's a test. As most things are on the green. A test of nerves. Of skill. Of determination. All of which you forged during your time on the green. "I was under the assumption this dig held my next harvest." You retort.

He scoffs with the tilt of his head, which clears the glare from.his helmet allowing you to see the face of the stranger for the first time. A blonde streak through his hair. "Then you have assumed incorrectly." As you go to respond he stops you. "Though…I am a man of reason. I do not see why this could not be our harvest."

You squint at his words, uncertain of the nature of his offer. "And why should I share?"

The man smirks, appreciating your attitude. "I have something you want. I have supplies. Food. Water. My pod, not far from here. Would make for easy harvesting."

Through your helmet, you can tell he's not lying. His body language is far too relaxed to be telling an outright lie. "And what is it you want from me?"

His mouth goes a little dry at his own proposition. "I want you, Nebula. Sweet stardust, to warm my bed for the duration of our shared excavation.”

The proposition is not a new one, though certainly a curious one. And had you never heard of the man with a blonde streak in his hair and with half an arm gone, perhaps you’d been more cautious than you were. Perhaps you’d never have agreed to such a delicate arrangement. At the least it would have taken much more convincing than it did.

Ezra can tell by the long look in your eyes, and the time you take to respond you’re debating the offer. “Come on Little Nebula…You know it is not a bad proposition. Food. Shelter. Half a harvest. Split right down the middle. And whilst I do not consider myself of Keeva’s most beautiful creations…there are far uglier things on The Green. Though- I am afraid I have one amendment before you decide to agree.”

You nod, urging him on.

“No kissing.” He says flatly, before the vibrancy returns to his character. “Though I am certain you can find much more noble uses for my mouth… if you agree.”

And agree you do.

That was the start of it. Two prospectors sharing in the splendors of greed by day and lust by night. You soon learned how well you worked together; getting through the excavation at an impressive speed. Your two hands proved useful where his one hand struggled. His sharper senses kept you both out of harm’s way on more than one occasion. Then of course, was the shared glory you found at night. Ezra’s many lovers proved him a well experienced man. While his stipulation about kissing went mostly unexplained aside from his general rejection of romanticism, you had found many more pleasurable uses for his mouth than kissing would provide.

The blonde streaked man was not what you'd imagined he'd be. Ezra was something of a myth on The Green. The reputation that precedes his actual involvement in your life had you believing him to be nothing short of a magic man. A survivor of the unsurvivable. A man who spoke in strange riddles and rhymes. One who felt he was almost plucked from another time and brought to yours. A man who'd been here more cycles than most any other prospector on the planet without losing his mind.

Of all the tales told of the strange man, one thing was consistent. Ezra was sincere. Straightforward, as long as you could decipher his odd tongue. Forthcoming of his intentions. So when he explained his desire to split the harvest, you suspected no deception on his behalf.

What you were not suspecting, was how much you'd like Ezra. Quickly growing fond of his eccentricities and of how he pleased you. How strange, you thought, that of all places The Green would be where you'd first foolishly fall for a man who would never love you back. A man who would abandon you when you no longer served your purpose. But in the warmth of his bed, as you press kisses along his cheek, you allow yourself to imagine that the romantic spark would grow to a flame.

Ezra was unsure of when the shift occurred. Perhaps after the first dig. Or the second. Or maybe even the third, where you silently celebrated your six months of partnership. Maybe it wasn’t even up until that fateful moment that everything changed. That you transformed from a fellow drifter on a far off moon, to a love of his own. He doesn’t remember when it happened, but he remembers the day he became acutely aware of it.

Prospecting was a dangerous profession, of this there was never a doubt. Even across your months together, had you encountered many unsavory persons. Thefts, cons, killers. All of the worst of mankind that plagued the face of The Green. All the same kind you’d met before, and were certain to meet again. These ones were just a bit more unlucky than the rest.

Traders. Roaming the planet’s surface trading both exotic goods and mundane items alike. A pair, who like yourself, had heard of the blonde-streaked man who had recently become a half-armed one. A pair with their eyes on the wild and dangerous Ezra’s prized trophy case. What was intended to be a simple supply run, had turned into a stand-off. Just as he had done before, Ezra was certain he could survive. But when you unexpectedly arrived, and the taller half of the pair had his gun on you, it got much uglier than Ezra could have anticipated.

Where once, Ezra would have abandoned his partner, leaving them for dead in favor of saving his beloved trophy case, he found himself unable to bring himself to do so. And as the stand-off turned into a gun fight. And the gun fight turned into a fistfight. In his landslide of emotions, one thing was clear. For the first time in his career, something mattered more than his precious trophy case, you. When Ezra finally smashed the last standing man’s helmet hard enough to crack, leaving him to the burn in the planet’s atmosphere, all Ezra could care about was you.

Bloody and limping, he came to you. “My sweet Nebula.” he pants, “Are you alright?” he asks, voice softer than is reasonable considering the adrenaline still racing through his veins. A thick gloved hand stretched out to your own.

“I’m okay Ezra.”

"Now there is nothing that can keep us apart" And he smiles, as his world slowly fades.

He doesn’t remember how he got back to the pod. Or when he got out of his suit. Or how long he’s been laying in this bed. But when his brown eyes open, and he sees you lying besides him he feels safe. And of all the places Ezra has been in his life as a vagabond, he'd finally found a place he belonged.

It frightens him. The testaments of his own affections shake him to his foundations. To know what his love could do. To know what it made him capable of. And worse- to know that what he loved may not feel equal in those affections.

But he could not lose you. Not to those men. Nor The Green. Not even Keeva itself could remove you from him. That terrible greed that kept his soul had extended to you. You were Ezra's. Though he'd claimed you many times, there was one way he'd yet to have taken you.

"Stardust…" he whispers, aquiline nose bumping against your cheek.

"Hmm…Ezra you're awake." You say, eyes adjusting to the frail light of early evening.

"My beloved Nebula, I hope you can excuse my most sudden intrusion of your person but-" a thick hand slithers under your waist as Ezra takes his position above you, "it has come to my attention that I have neglected you something serious. And if permissible…" he leans in closer, the tip of his nose sliding against yours "it'd most like to rectify my unforgivable sin."

"Ezra? Are you asking to kiss me?" You repeat, your sleep dazed brain struggling to follow.

"I believe I am, Nebula."

"Then you may."

With that, Ezra kisses you. His lips are slow to press their way into yours, shivering with trepidation. Once he has his lips on yours, he knows he's reached the point of no return. The feather light touch of your mouth sears through him. Burning your essence into his very existence. Branding him as yours. The taste of devotion sitting heavy on his scorched tongue.

"More-" Ezra begs, pressing heavily against you. You're eager to comply. Pulling him close.

The kiss is cosmic. All your mismatched broken parts forming like clusters in open space. Finding all the bits that make the other whole. An undeniable heat building on your tongues as your bodies fall into each other, closer and closer. Two fools lost in orbit. Limbs enfold like the outstretched arms of the galaxy.

"I love you." You murmur against Ezra's lips.

And the cosmos is completed. Fire catching at the core, where your lips meet. Burning through flesh, and bone, and pride. Creating one where there once was many. His sweet stardust blossoms like a nova star; enrapturing him in your flames. Where he happily concedes his love for you.

"Oh Nova- my Nova!" He nearly cries for you. Overwhelmed by the emergence of feels he'd harbored so long. "I love you. I love you. I love you-" Ezra repeats like a prayer at your altar. Where he worships the star that brought him light. Where his greedy hands slither up your shirt, begging for access. "Nova, allow me-"

"Please Ezra!" You plead back. Eager to have him as you'd never had him before.

In the end, there you return. Engulfed in each other's arms. The quiet hush of night. Pale lances of moonlight piercing through the nylon tent. So when Ezra rhetorically asks, "Oh Nova…what have you done to me?" and foolishly feels over your lips for a piece of flint; the greater question he wants to ask is what he did to deserve to experience your flame. And just as the first man to discover fire, Ezra's greatest concern was getting it again and again.

[heph]

A lot has happened in 30 years

[billy-crudup]

Shadow's story began a lot like yours, Sonic. But where you found family and friends, Shadow found only pain and loss. SONIC THE HEDGEHOG 3 (2024) dir. Jeff Fowler

[raptorrobot]

hello hades fandom

x

[onewingedangels]

Jill Valentine in RESIDENT EVIL: DEATH ISLAND (2023) dir. Eiichiro Hasumi

[kirsteng42]

Loved this so much, I needed some romance today obviously!!!!

The Wedding Planner

Summary: You are getting married. And while this is supposed to be the happiest day of your life, you've been having second thoughts. Even before you meet your wedding planner Marcus Pike.

Pairing: AU!Marcus Pike x fem. Reader

Wordcount: 5.8k

Rating: G

Warnings: The Wedding Planner AU, yearning, fluff, angst, feelings, people saying mean things about bodies

A/N: I did it! January of @yearofcreation2023 is finally finished and here! This is a very loose interpretation of the movie The Wedding Planner and I am not 100% happy with it but it's too late for doubts now lol

Year of Movie AU's Masterlist

follow me @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post a new fic

If someone had told Marcus twenty years ago that he would run one of the most successful wedding planning agencies in the country, he would probably have laughed. 

Back then he had other plans. 

Plans that included following his fathers footsteps in law enforcement. Joining the CIA or FBI.

But then he met his wife. Well… Ex-Wife by now. She had been working as a party planner and he? He realised how much he loved planning. 

It had started out with him helping on the weekend while he still was in Quantico on his way to become an agent. He was freshly married and in love and wanted to spend all his free time with his wife. And if that meant helping her decorate birthday parties or engagement parties (or god forbid gender reveals), he was there. 

And then one Saturday morning while he was helping her, his wife had sent him in near panic to the groom of the wedding she had been prepping for months. The groom had cold feet. And Marcus had spent twenty minutes calming the man down, reminding him how much he loved his wife to be. 

During the ceremony after Marcus might have shed a tear or two.

It was shortly after that he, much to the disappointment of his father, quit his career in law enforcement and did the back then very terrifying step of starting his own business.

He had the talent to paint pictures with his words, so it was like his customers could see the end result in front of them. 

He loved working with people.

And above all he had a talent to stay clear headed when people threw tantrums. (Surprisingly often it wasn’t the bride but the mother of the groom)

He loved to see something he worked on come together. 

He loved making people happy.

But above all he loved the moment when the groom sees his future wife for the first time as she walks down the aisle. 

Sadly all the romance he was surrounded by, did not help his own love life. 

His wife felt neglected and instead of talking to him about it, searched for comfort in another man’s arms. It had been ugly, their divorce. Not just because of hurt feelings, but because of the fact that at this point Marcus had already been very successful. And with his success came a decent amount of money. 

Three years the divorce had lasted until it was settled and he was not only left heartbroken, but out of a decent amount of his hard earned money. 

Even though it had been years and years ago, there were still some times when he sat alone in his way too big house, that he asked himself what had gone wrong? Marcus had loved his wife. Yes, he had worked much, but he always made sure to put her first. To be home for dinner every day. To show her his love. He did not understand what went wrong along the way.

He had the tendency to be too much for his partners. 

It’s why his relationships seem not to last. At least that is what he told himself. There were a couple flings until he met another woman he had thought could be the one. 

They met in a museum. She was working on a case, he was looking for a wedding venue and taking the excuse to spend the day looking at art. 

His love for art had never changed.

And much to his own surprise he had proposed only months into their relationship, just to get his heart broken again, when she left him only days later for the man she had been working with for many years.

Sighing he stared at the wedding photos of exactly that woman who had married the man only two weeks ago.

He had planned the wedding. 

Why? A question he could not answer. He could have given it to one of his many employees, but maybe he needed to see this through. He needed to see that Theresa and Patrick Jane would get their happily ever after. That Marcus had not been the one for her. 

He smiled a little, seeing them so in love on the pictures he had just forwarded to them. 

Another happy customer. 

Marcus was ready to fall in love again. This time with the right woman. Maybe he had met her already?

Yesterday on his way home he met a woman. 

Well… he had saved her life really. 

He was about to get into his car when he saw her cross the street, wearing a beautiful blue dress as the heel of her high heels got stuck in a manhole cover. 

It was like in a movie as he kept his eyes on her, cars driving around her, while she tried to free her heel. And as if that wasn’t enough a… loose dumpster was rolling down the hill, directly towards her? He saw her getting out of the shoe, running away, before she turned around to rescue her shoe. 

It was a split decision as Marcus ran towards her, his arms catching her and pulling her out of the way before the dumpster would have hit her. His hand was securely covering the back of her head and neck as they both rolled on the street.

“Are you all right?” he asked out of breath, checking her for injuries. And then she opened her eyes and Marcus hadn’t been able to get them or her out of his head ever since. 

“Where’s my shoe?” she had asked, while he was still checking if she was unharmed.

“You have it right here,” he had said softly, his hands now framing her face, keeping her still. 

“Are you hurt? Does your head hurt? Any trouble breathing?”

“No… No I don’t think so.”

“Good. Good,” he had smiled, slowly helping her up. 

Her phone rang and she sighed, as Marcus knelt in front of her, helping her get into her shoe as her hand rested on his shoulder. She had thanked her again and before Marcus could think of asking any more questions (or get her number or even her name) she had to leave, excuses coming from her lips. 

Marcus sighed. Just his luck meeting a woman, he would probably never ever see again. 

There was a knock on the door, his assistant Caroline reminding him that his next couple was there. 

He took a deep breath, his hands soothing over his grey button up as he nodded at her to let them in. 

He got up from his chair to welcome his new clients, his steps confident, only to stop in his tracks when you walked in. 

You were happy. 

You were. 

Weren’t you?

“Honey, are you sure I have to be there?” Colin asked again, his eyes fixed on his phone as he typed furiously. 

“It is our wedding. You should at least try to be involved in the planning,” you sighed, turning your head to watch the street fly by outside the car you were sitting in. 

“You know I don’t care for all of that shit,” he said and you closed your eyes. 

You did know that he did not care. 

If you were honest with yourself, you weren’t even sure if he really loved you. Or if you still loved him. Or if this was just…. How things were meant to process.

Colin and you had been together since college. 

He was the son of the current governor of the state. But this was never important to you. You actually had made him work for your affection, his cocky attitude doing nothing for you. But he had shown you his other side, the side that was corny and funny. The side you fell in love with. The guy who was not only your boyfriend but your best friend.

But as the years went by this side of him slowly disappeared, only coming out very rarely. You missed your best friend.

Yet when he asked you to marry him the yes was out of your mouth, before you could stop yourself or think about it.

It was the right thing to do. 

Was it?

You felt his hand on your knee and you looked at him. He gave you a small smile, his phone nowhere in sight for a change. You looked at him, wondering if he changed his mind. 

“I have a meeting I can’t cancel. I only have fifteen minutes. You can do the rest by yourself, right?” he asked and the hope that maybe the man you fell in love with all these years ago seemed to disappear with every meeting he chose over you. 

But instead of saying these words, you plastered a fake smile on your lips. 

“Of course, honey.”

The smile on your lips seemed wrong. It did not reach your eyes. It was the first thing Marcus thought when he saw you. Apart from thinking faith had a funny way of bringing the woman back into his life, he hadn’t stopped thinking about since the day before to plan her wedding with another man. Again. 

“The Carlson wedding?” Marcus asked and you nodded, a little flustered. 

It was him. 

The man who had saved you the day before. 

You hadn’t told Colin about your near death experience, because you did not want him to ask questions about the man that had saved you. The man that was now… planning your wedding? Those brown eyes you hadn’t stopped thinking about seemed not to leave yours.  

“That’s us. Well I’m the future Carlson,” you reached for Marcus hand, introducing yourself and he smiled, the little wrinkles around his eyes deepening. He seemed like he loved to laugh. 

“Colin Carlson,” the man next to you introduced himself to Marcus and he only now realised that you hadn’t been alone. Of course you weren’t. You were here to plan your wedding. 

Focus, Marcus. 

“Mr. Carlson,” Marcus shook the man’s hand. 

“Please take a seat,” he said as he went back behind his desk to sit down. He folded his hands on the table and looked at the couple in front of him. 

“So, what can I do for you?” he asked. 

Your smile widened for a split second before your fiance spoke.

“Well you are a wedding planner, are you not?” he scoffed and Marcus chuckled while he saw your smile getting smaller. 

“I am. Still most couples have some idea what they want. Let me rephrase, what kind of wedding do you guys want?”

“I… I always dreamed of a winter wedding. Like a winter fairytale with wintery decorations and mulled wine and snow,” you smiled softly and Marcus realised it was the first time you truly looked happy. His eyes found the huge diamond ring on your finger as you reached over to touch your fiancés arm. 

“Winter? I thought spring, honey,” Colin said and you frowned. 

“Everyone wants a spring wedding. I want something different,” you said, looking at him. 

“But spring weddings are better for the press,” he said and you gulped. Marcus could see you swallowing down whatever you wanted to say before your head turned towards him, with that fake smile he already grew to hate. 

“As you can see we need a planner. We can’t even decide on when to have the wedding,” you said.

Marcus was writing down notes as Colin reached for your hand. Marcus watched the two of you out of the corner of his eyes. 

“You can do whatever you want with the wedding, honey. Just please let’s have it in spring. You know my schedule. You know how my parents are.”

He heard you sigh. 

“Then I guess we will have a spring wedding,” you said sadly. Your fiance smiled, seemingly ignoring the sadness in your voice as he got up from his seat. 

“I have another meeting. I’m sure we’re in good hands. Thank you Mr. Pike,” he said, kissing your temple before he walked out of the room. 

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, before you forced the smile back to your face. You were taken aback by the look of the man’s face in front of you. He looked… sad. Maybe he was pitying you. Yet there was something in his eyes that seemed to make breathing feel lighter for you. 

“I’m sorry. He’s…. He’s a busy man,” you said, your voice quiet. 

“That’s… I see that more often than you would think, “ Marcus said warmly. 

“Wedding planning is not something most men look forward to. They often are quite happy to leave the planning in their fiance’s hands. Well and mine,” he winked at you and you huffed a laugh. 

“How many couples do not make it to the wedding?” you asked and he sighed. 

“Some.”

“Do you think we are gonna make it?” you asked hesitantly. He smiled warmly at you. 

“Do you love your fiancé?” he asked.

“Yes,” the practised answer came straight away from your lips, even though you did not know if it was the right one. Yet your smile dropped for a split second as you looked at the man in front of you, trying to remember how long ago it was that Colin gave you his full attention like your wedding planner did just now. 

Marcus' smile did not waver as he nodded at you, even though he could see the uncertainty in your eyes. 

“Then let’s get to planning your wedding,” he said. 

And it was only when you were sitting in the cab after the meeting that you noticed that he hadn’t answered your question. 

Marcus, as he had insisted on calling him, had sent you some ideas for wedding venues. You had tried to talk them through with Colin but you hadn’t even seen him more than a couple of hours in the last three weeks. 

His office was keeping him busy and the only time you really spent together was either sleeping next to each other in bed or at some event for his father where you had to play the perfect wife to be. 

Thankfully you had your job, keeping your head busy. 

And Marcus. 

You were texting with Marcus all day and not just about the wedding. You had insisted on inviting him for dinner to thank him for basically saving your life.

It was the most fun you had in a long time. 

Marcus was… he was smart and funny and actually listened when you were speaking. Your standards apparently were very low. But he? He was…. You genuinely enjoyed spending time with a man that seemed to be interested in you for a change.

You knew you shouldn’t be, you noticed how he was looking at you. It was the same way you caught yourself looking at him. 

You were questioning your relationship with your husband to be. Which was a weird thing to think about while on the way to go and see different wedding venues with your very handsome wedding planner. 

You might have mentioned who was planning your wedding on your last girls night and your friends had cyber stalked him immediately. You knew that he was divorced. You knew that he had several offices of his wedding planning agency all over the country. 

You knew that he had a kind smile and beautiful brown eyes. You knew that he was the first man in a long time who seemed like he was interested in what you had to say. You also knew that you were paying him handsomely to plan a wedding you were not sure you wanted to have. 

A spring wedding. 

You were still mad about it. You never had the big plans of getting married. But in your mind, if you got married you always imagined a small party, close to christmas, somewhere with lots of snow and cosiness. You imagined your husband having only eyes for you as you danced your first dance as husband and wife to “I’ll be home for christmas”.

You just… really really loved winter. 

Sighing, you waited for your driver to open the door, already seeing Marcus waiting for you. 

You could do this. 

You would do this. 

You had to plan a wedding. 

At least until you decided what you really wanted. 

“You hated all of them,” Marcus said and you looked at him apologetic. He had put more effort than usual in his outfit today. He was wearing dark jeans and a crisp white dress shirt, a dark red blazer rounding up his outfit. 

When you had stepped out of the car in a wrap dress in the same colour as his blazer he had almost made a comment, but chose not to. 

You seemed happier today.

Not that he had much of a scale to know if you were but you seemed more relaxed. 

He took you to four different venues today but none of them seemed to be the right one. 

He wondered if it was because deep down you wanted a winter wedding and not a spring wedding. 

“I don’t hate all of them. They are… good venues.”

“You just can’t picture your wedding there,” he said and you sighed. You were walking through a park, Marcus next to you.

“Can I be honest?” you asked. 

“Of course,” Marcus said. You stopped walking and turned towards the setting sun. 

“I never imagined a big wedding. The PA of my fiancé counted around 450 guests. There might be… 10 people from my side. The rest is all his and important people he has to invite because he wants to follow in his fathers footsteps at some point. And it’s… it’s suffocating.”

You took a deep breath. 

“My ex-wife and I had a small wedding in her parents' holiday home. The wedding… It was pretty perfect. We had it outside in the snow and afterwards we all had mulled wine and s'mores.”

“That does sound pretty perfect.”

“Did not end perfectly though,” he shrugged. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. You felt Marcus next to you and you looked up at him. He had a sad smile on his lips. 

“We are going to find a location you will love,” he said, looking down at you. 

You sighed. 

“I don’t think the location is the issue in this,” you mumbled. Marcus turned towards you. 

“Please tell me if I’m overstepping but, are you okay?” he asked. 

You were quiet for a long time, trying to decide if you would tell him another lie, a lie you had been telling yourself for months, or even years. Or if you would be honest to him, this man who was a stranger to you, but that you felt so at ease with, that you found yourself wanting to spend more time with him. 

“No Marcus, I’m not okay.”

You were sitting next to Marcus on a bench in the park. You had gotten something to drink. The sun was slowly setting behind the hill and because you were getting a little cold, Marcus had put his blazer around your shoulders. 

“I just… I am not sure if this is the right thing to do. The wedding I mean.”

“Are you sure it’s not just cold feet?” he asked. 

You shook your head. 

“To be honest with you, I have been feeling like this even before he proposed. But then the yes was out of my mouth before I could really think about it and now I am getting married to a man who is becoming a stranger to me…”

You took a deep breath. 

“Do you love him?” Marcus asked you and you turned your head to look at him. 

“I do love him. I just… don’t know if I’m in love with him,” you whispered after a while. You felt his hand on top of yours as he squeezed it softly. You fought the tears that were building in your eyes. 

“Did you ever talk to Colin about it?” he asked and you shook your head. 

“I can’t even remember when I actually talked to him without anyone else in the room,” you said. 

“I might be overstepping but…. You do not seem happy. I see happy couples, happy people every day. And…”

“And?” you whispered. 

“The only time I saw your real smile, not the one you fake, but the one that reached your eyes was when you talked about everything but the wedding or your fiancé.”

The tears rolled down your cheeks then. The man next to you who you had only met weeks ago could see how unhappy you were, but no one around you did. Or they chose to ignore it.

“People never noticed if I was faking or not.”

“I did,” he whispered and gave you a small smile. You smiled too, before you took a deep breath. 

“I don’t think I had a reason to smile for a long time,” you said. 

“What changed?” Marcus asked. You tilted your head, sniffing your nose a little with a soft smile. 

“I met you.”

You did not want to shop for a wedding dress. 

Your friends had to cancel which would leave you, your future mother in law, your future sister in law and a personal stylist you had never met before to buy a dress you were not sure you were ever going to wear. 

Thankfully Marcus had offered to come too.

You had wanted to cancel the whole thing, but you had already rescheduled three times. 

You were getting dressed for the day, when Colin emerged from the en suite, already fully dressed. 

“Do you… Do you have time to have dinner with me sometime this week?” you asked. 

“I have to check? Anything important?” he did not even look at you. 

“Yeah. It’s… It is important,” you said. He then finally looked at you. 

“Is everything okay?” he walked over to you, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders. 

You sucked your bottom lip in, nervous. 

“I don’t know,” you said honestly. 

“I’ll make sure to clear my afternoon and evening, okay?” he said and you nodded. 

“I have to go. Dress shopping,” you tried to sound excited. 

Colin smiled at you before he kissed you softly. 

“Have fun.”

This was even worse than you had imagined. 

Every dress that you loved was not good enough (or more like expensive enough) for the people judging every inch of you. 

You were tired. 

You had been here for four hours and every dress you had tried on did not feel right. 

Your future mother in law wanted to see you in a ball gown which was so not your thing. You wanted something… something lighter. Something you could move and dance in. 

“It’s a big wedding honey. You have to wear a big dress,” she said, already on her third glass of champagne. 

“You might need to lose some weight too. The pictures will be everywhere and we don’t want you to look fat, don’t we?” your future sister in law smiled, her eyes cold and you gulped. She had hated you from day one.

“I think I’m done for today,” you said and turned around, almost running toward the changing room. 

Someone helped you out of the dress, leaving you alone after and you wrapped the robe they left you around your body when there was a knock on the door. 

“It’s me,” you heard Marcus behind the door. You wiped the tears from your cheeks.

“Come in,” you called out hoarsely. The door opened and Marcus stepped in, closing the door behind him. He only looked at you and you sobbed. His arms were around you in seconds, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt, your face buried in his chest as you allowed yourself to cry. 

His hand brushed soothingly over your back, humming softly while you slowly calmed down. 

“They are gone. And you are perfect just the way you are,” he said after a while. 

“She was cruel to tell you something like that. Nobody should ever say something like that.”

“I know. And usually I don’t listen but…”

“She said that before?” he asked. You looked up at him, his eyes concerned. 

“Not just him. They are… It feels like they are preparing me to be the trophy wife.”

Marcus shook his head. 

“You are so much more than a trophy wife. You are….” he was searching for words. 

“You are smarter than anyone I have ever met. You care about all the people around you. You are funny as hell. And so…. So beautiful.”

“Marcus…” you whispered. His face came closer towards yours, his breath brushing over your skin as he leaned his forehead against yours. 

“You deserve so much more. You deserve someone who makes you happy. A family that accepts you as you are. Cause you’re pretty much perfect to me. You deserve to have a wedding that you actually want to have. You deserve… you deserve to have everything you dream of,” he whispered and you gasped softly. 

The thought that you wanted him to kiss you crossed your mind and you closed your eyes, before you took a step back. When you looked up, Marcus was staring at you with a soft smile. 

“I would understand if you want to leave right now but… I have one dress left for you to try on if you want to?” He looked a little shy.

You shrugged. 

“I mean it can’t be worse than what I have already tried on,” you mumbled.

“That’s the spirit. I’ll… I’ll wait for you outside,” he winked and you nodded at him. 

Of course it was perfect. The dress Marcus had picked was all you had ever dreamed of. You were staring at yourself in the mirror in disbelief that you could look like that. 

“Are you ready to show it?” the woman who had helped you get dressed asked.

You were but at the same time you weren’t. Because for some reason you did not want Marcus to see you wearing this dress. This perfect dress that a man picked, you would not even marry. 

“Yeah. Yeah I am ready.”

Marcus was fucked. 

He was so fucked.

He was sitting on one of the couches when he saw you walk out of the dressing room and towards him, the biggest smile on your lips as you wore the dress he had picked for you. 

He felt tears stinging in his eyes immediately, overwhelmed by the vision that you were as you carefully took the step onto the little runway that was in the wedding shop, walking towards the big mirror. 

Any plan of even trying to keep his feelings towards you professional were lost anyway after the moment you had at the dressing room but this? It was like a movie ran in his head. Of the life you and him could have together. He could make you happy. He would make you happy. 

“What do you think?” you asked, looking at him through the mirror and he hastily wiped his tears away. 

“Perfect,” he nodded at you with a big smile.

“Are you… Are you even in love with me?” you were sitting on the couch of your perfect penthouse with Colin sitting on the opposite end after dinner. He had made time for you as he promised. You had dinner and now you were sitting in your living room. 

Talking. 

“Of course I love you,” he frowned and you sighed. 

“I don’t doubt that you love me. But are you in love with me? Do you want to spend the rest of your life with me? Can you even remember the last time we went out together, because we wanted to and not because it was something for work or for your father? Can you remember the last time we had sex? And I don’t mean the rushed ten minutes where you fuck me and I have to get myself off after.”

It was quiet for a long time.

“I… I will always love you,” he said after a while. 

“But you’re not in love with me,” you said with a sad smile. He sighed. 

“No. No I am not.”

“Good,” you said. He looked at you confused.

“Good?”

You nodded. 

“Because I am not in love with you either. I… I think I haven’t been for a long time. And…”

“You’ve been smiling more lately,” Colin said and you nodded. 

“Yeah. Yeah I have. I… Someone showed me what life could be like if you’re truly happy. Not that I wasn’t with you. Just… these last months were…”

“Miserable. They sucked so much. Oh my god,” Colin said and you laughed. 

“Yeah. We should both be happy. Even if it means not being together.”

You both sighed. 

“I did not cheat on you by the way. I just… I met him and….” you mumbled and Colin reached over, taking your hand. 

“I know. And I believe you. I’m just…. I’m happy that there’s someone out there bringing your smile back, when I failed you in so many ways,” he squeezed your hand.

“I am not going to tell your parents,” you said and he sighed even louder. 

“I will. And I am sorry how they treated you. I… I’m sorry I never said anything either.”

“It’s okay. Actually it’s not but… Can’t change the past,” you said, feeling like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You looked at your hand, the big diamond ring sparkling. You pulled it off as you got up from the couch. 

“I am going to move to the guest bedroom,” you said, taking his hand to put the ring into it. 

“Stay as long as you want. This is your home too,” he said. You nodded. 

“Thank you.”

You hadn’t seen Marcus since the wedding dress debacle. Or since you broke up with your fiancé for that matter. 

You did however text or talk to him daily, the exchange between the two of you being the highlight of your day really. You knew you had feelings for him. Probably had for a long time. But now you were actually allowing yourself to feel them and you could only hope that you read the signs right, and Marcus felt something for you too. 

Colin’s parents had not been happy with the cancelled wedding, but frankly you did not care. There hadn’t been invitations sent out yet, so really it would only be a small announcement that you had separated. You had spent the last three weeks packing your stuff and finding a new place in which you would move into in a few days. 

It was funny that now that you and Colin were not a couple anymore, you both found yourself spending more time together than before. He helped you pack, you cooked dinner and watched some real housewives after. 

You may have lost your fiancé but you were on the road to getting your best friend back. 

He had told you that he only worked so much because he did not know how to be alone with you but not with you. 

And a part of you could understand him now, while the other part, the neglected and hurt part still healed. 

Yet while everything changed around you, you had not told Marcus, your wedding planner, that the wedding was off. 

You would do that today at the cake tasting you would meet him at. 

He had found a small bakery, meeting you outside with a bright smile. 

“How are you?” he asked.

“I am great,” you smiled at him as he opened the door to the bakery. 

Marcus hadn’t seen you in weeks. He thought it would help with his crush on you, but talking to you every day did not help with that. 

You even watched movies together, texting with each other throughout. 

Marcus was hopelessly and utterly in love with you. 

And it was absolute hell not being able to be together with you. Just his luck, falling for one of his clients. 

Yet sometimes when you looked at him he found himself thinking that maybe his feelings were not one sided. 

You told him yourself you were unhappy in your relationship. Hell, he was planning a wedding with you that you did not want to have. Or at least, not like that. 

Then again, the only thing that really was planned at this point was the date of the wedding. 

Neither your fiancé nor his family had been a big help, leaving you to make all decisions yourself. And you hadn’t really made any decisions. 

He looked at you over the table, humming at the taste of what looked like a raspberry cake. 

He was at a point where he needed answers so he wouldn’t turn insane. Even if it meant not only losing a client, but getting his heart broken. Again.

“Did you ever like somebody, but the timing was off?” Marcus asked and you sighed. 

“Yeah. Yeah I think I do,” you said and he looked at you with something that felt like hope in his eyes. 

“Yeah?” he asked. You nodded. 

You tried the chocolate cake next, humming at the taste. 

“What if… the timing wasn’t off?” you asked as he tried the lemon cake. His eyes found yours. 

“Honestly?” he checked and you nodded. “I would ask her out on a date and….”

“And?”

His hand came up, his fingers brushing some chocolate on the corner of your lips away with a soft smile before he could stop himself. 

You reached for his other hand, intertwining your fingers and his eyes focused on your hand, or more so on the lack of your big diamond engagement ring on your finger. 

He gulped before he looked up at you. 

“I probably would kiss her right now, because it’s all I’ve been thinking about ever since I saved her from getting rolled over by a dumpster,” he said and you chuckled. 

“I’m afraid I have to tell you, you’re fired Mr. Pike. There’s no wedding left to plan,” you said with a small smile, your other hand finding its way on his cheek. 

He closed his eyes for a moment, releasing a long breath before his eyes opened and he smiled. Wide. 

“Thank god,” he mumbled, wasting no more time and finally kissed you. 

And just a few months later you got your winter wedding, perfectly planned by not only you but the best wedding planner you knew, your fiancé. 

And yeah, you lived happily ever after. 

[the-canine-king]

just stick to the plan. the plan. the one with the handcuffs. and a blindfold i mean sack over. that plan

[captainsophiestark]

Destroy All Comers

Jason Todd x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my Year of Olympians and part of a bigger challenge being run by @yearofcreation2023​! It features a ton of other awesome creators and runs all year, so go check it out!

Fandom: DC

Prompt: Athena; Wisdom and Warfare

Summary: When Y/N's regular co-coach, Dick Grayson, is called away during an important period in the 8th grade girls' basketball season, Jason Todd has to step in and take his place.

Word Count: 3,124

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Jason's POV

"Why do I have to do it?"

"Because you're the only one available to take my place! Besides, you might actually have fun doing it once you give it a try."

I huffed and crossed my arms. Grayson had a mission overseas coming up, and he'd asked me to take his place. Not as Blüdhaven's vigilante, oh no. As the co-coach for a kid's basketball league.

It was dead last on the list of things I cared about or wanted to do. But Grayson had recently helped me out with a problem of my own, and he'd made it very clear he wasn't above calling in that favor.

"C'mon, Jay. It's only two weeks. Ten practices and one tournament, that's all you have to get through."

I sighed heavily through my nose and stared at the ceiling for a few long beats. Then, I dropped my eyes back to Dick, keeping my expression completely unimpressed.

"Fine. But you better not get hurt on this stupid mission, because I'm not covering for you a single second past that tournament."

****************

Y/N's POV

"Alright, great work! Let's take five for water and then get into our layup drills!"

I smiled and clapped a few of the girls on the back as they headed off the court to their bags on the sidelines. Coaching my little niece's basketball team was one of my absolute favorite activities, and I'd been doing it since they were first graders. Now, this was their last year before high school, and we all wanted to go out on a high note. We had a tournament in two weeks that would help set us up nicely for the end of the season if it went well for us.

Every single one of us was absolutely locked in.

Every one of us, of course, except my co-coach.

Dick Grayson, my new best friend since we'd started volunteering together at our family members' school (my niece and his little brother) and I'd managed to rope him into helping me with my niece's basketball team, was my usual co-coach. Unfortunately, he apparently had a big commitment out of town that he couldn't get out of, so he'd be missing the tournament and two weeks leading up to it. I'd been a little upset, and then mostly just teased him for a 'lack of commitment' I knew he didn't actually have before promising to keep him updated on everything. His replacement, however, I was starting to have a real problem with.

Dick told me he'd convinced one of his brothers to fill in for him this week, just so I wouldn't be left wrangling a bunch of thirteen and fourteen year-olds alone. Dick had spoken very highly of him, but he was currently half an hour late to his first practice, and I was starting to get a bad feeling that he'd be more of a hindrance than a help.

Just as the thought floated through my mind, I heard the doors to the gym swing open. I looked up to see a tall, muscle-y guy with a leather jacket stride through the door. Dick had told me they weren't biological brothers, but even with the white streak in this guy's otherwise jet black hair, I knew he was Dick's brother. He came to a stop in front of me, and I might've been a little thrown off by his good looks if I wasn't also so pissed.

"Coach Y/N, I take it?" he asked, holding out a hand for me to shake. I just scowled back at him.

"Yeah. And you're Mr. Thirty Minutes Late To Practice."

The guy–definitely Jason Todd, since he didn't correct me–narrowed his eyes slightly as he dropped his hand back to his side.

"Yeah, sorry. It was kind of a rough night."

I took a second to breathe in deeply, then let the breath out through my nose. This guy was Dick's brother, after all, and for all I knew he might've had a perfectly good reason for being late. I made myself meet his eyes and forced down some of the impatience I'd been feeling.

"Jason. It's good to meet you. Thank you for volunteering while Dick's gone." He nodded and shifted on his feet, looking a little uncomfortable. I sighed. "How much do you know about basketball?"

"Some," he said with a shrug. "I played for a little while when I was really young, and I watch it sometimes now, but that's it."

"Alright. Well, for today, I'm just going to have you run the girls through some simple drills like defensive slides and foot fires while I work on plays and some specific moves with the other half. Deal?"

"Sure."

I turned to share the new plan with the girls, but stopped and turned back again after a few steps. Jason still slouched a few feet away from me looking disgruntled.

"Listen, Jason? I really do appreciate the help, but... the girls and I take this very seriously. If you can't do that for the next two weeks... I think we might be better off without you."

I turned before Jason could really even react, not particularly interested in a comeback. The girls were waiting for me, after all, done with their water break and ready to get back into the action.

We split off into separate groups for the next hour, Jason running drills the girls probably could've done on their own while I worked with a few at a time on more position-specific drills. Finally, with half an hour left, we took one more break before it would be time to spend the last half hour scrimaging. I stood off to one side mentally making the first two groups of five, but stopped my mental planning when Jason wandered over to me, looking more than a little tired.

"How you holding up?" I asked, only half trying to conceal a smile and laugh. Jason huffed.

"They're insane," he said, slumping against the wall next to me and crossing his arms. "They interrupted me five times in the first drill to tell me I was explaining it wrong. And they were mean about it, too!"

I didn't even bother trying to hide my smile this time. "Yeah, I wasn't kidding when I said they took this seriously. It helps to have another adult in their area when I'm doing other stuff, but... they could probably run those drills themselves."

Jason gave a thoughtful hum, but didn't say anything else. I gave him a second and finished making the first set of teams in my head, then stepped to the middle of the court and clapped my hands.

"Alright girls! Let's get this scrimmage going!"

We flew through the last half hour of practice, all of the girls in excellent form. Jason kept watching, seeming much more interested and engaged than before, but he didn't chime in with anything. For the last two minutes, we practiced wild half-court shots "just in case" (and mostly for fun), then huddled up at center court as the parents started to arrive.

"Alright, great practice today everybody, as usual," I said. Even though it was the end of practice, no one looked like they were itching to go; everyone stayed laser-focus locked on me. "Now that today is over, we officially have nine practices left before our tournament next weekend. That means nine practices to get as good as we can possibly get."

The girls hooted and hollered, and our captain, Angie, chimed in.

"And to get ready to destroy all comers!"

The other girls cheered for her statement, and I grinned.

"Damned right. You girls are incredible, and should already be so proud of how far we've come. The other teams aren't gonna know what hit 'em next weekend!"

A chorus of "yeah!"s.

"Good! Now, what team?"

"Wildcats!"

"What team?"

"Wildcats!"

"Wildcats!"

"Destroy all comers!"

"Alright! We'll see you girls tomorrow!"

They all cheered, wished me a good night, and wandered off to find their parents. I watched them go with a smile as Jason wandered up to my side.

"That's not how I remember the High School Musical cheer going."

I shrugged. "Our mascot's the wildcats, but we're our own entity. Our own, slightly more cutthroat entity."

"I like it."

I finally turned to look at Jason and found him already staring at me with a mischievous smile.

"Listen, I know I wasn't very helpful today," he started. I snorted, but gave him a small smile so he knew I was mostly teasing. "But, if you'll let me... I have a couple ideas that might help over the next few weeks."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?"

****************

"Okay girls, lean into the contact! Stand your ground, really let your opponent push into you and push right back!"

I smiled as I watched Jason work with the girls. For our second practice together, he'd come early to walk me through a more detailed plan of some ideas he'd had. Like Dick, he had better experience than me with physical training and the best way to help other people strengthen themselves and specific areas. Unlike Dick, he'd immediately leaned into my more ruthless energy, and had come up with a new strategy we were in the middle of implementing.

Within a few seconds, Group A–the offensive group–stepped away from their partners. Group B, the defenders, stumbled and, in some cases, even fell. Jason beamed around at all of them.

"Great work, that's exactly what we want. Ref can't call you for anything, and the other team'll think a little harder before laying all over you in the paint again."

The girls' feral grins were response enough to tell me how they felt about that new strategy. I couldn't help mirroring their expressions as they went to get water and I went to stand by Jason.

"Nice work," I said. Jason turned to grin at me, and my heart skipped a beat in a way it never did when I coached with Dick. "I've gotta say, day one was rough, but I love the energy you've been bringing since."

"What, you're telling me Dick didn't bring the scorched-Earth energy?" he joked. I chuckled, shrugging at the thought of my usual partner being paired with the phrase "scorched-Earth".

"Dick came up with some absolutely insane yet somehow effective strategic trick plays," I said. "He's always a positive, encouraging energy, especially when the rest of us get a little too intense. But yeah, his usual role is the balance to our bloodthirstiness."

Jason nodded. "Sounds like him. Usually, at least."

I squinted a little at that as Jason stared off at the far wall, but then he shook his head and turned back to me. Slowly, a grin spread across his face, and I swear it was contagious as I mirrored him. Then, he spoke.

"I'm planning on bringing a slightly different energy to the team."

****************

"Alright girls, this is it!" I cried, staring around at the huddle of intense, focused faces around me. "We win this, and we not only win the tournament, but we're set up with the number one seed for the postseason. You've played amazing so far, and nobody can take that away from you. Keep it up for the rest of this game, and let's finish this thing!"

Everyone nodded as I spoke, an excited fire flickering in every person's eyes. After two weeks of practice and some new strategies from Jason, we'd spent Saturday carving through our early opponents like they were nothing. Now, after a long Sunday, we'd battled our way to the championship game. We'd gone into halftime tied, and the next two quarters would be everything for us.

If Dick were here, he would've referenced the "Sixteen Minutes" song from High School Musical, since that's how much game time we had left. But he wasn't here, and Jason and I both had different things on our minds.

"We're tied, which means we can take this as a fresh start," I continued. "Go out there and outplay them for the next two quarters, and it's ours. Leave it all on the floor and show them just who they're messing with."

The girls cheered, and I glanced up at Jason.

"Coach? Anything to add?"

"Yeah. I've only been here two weeks, but that was enough to realize that this team is full of the toughest, scariest competitors I've ever seen. So go out there, show no mercy, and crush anybody that tries to stand in your way!"

The girls and I all roared in approval, and Jason's feral grin fit right in with all of us. It was hard to believe he'd really only been here two weeks; he seemed like part of the team that'd always been here.

The buzzer sounded behind us, signaling it was time to retake the court.

"Alright girls, let's do this!" I shouted. "What team?"

"Wildcats!" screamed everyone, Jason included, at the top of their lungs.

"What team?"

"Wildcats!"

"Wildcats!"

"Destroy all comers!"

The girls clapped as our starters headed out onto the floor and Jason and I shifted to stand next to each other at the front of the bench, just off the court.

"See the looks we just got from the opposing team?" asked Jason with a grin. Behind him, the other players and coaches were still giving us side-eye and concerned looks. I smiled.

"Oh yeah. The intimidation mind game is half the reason for that cheer."

"Nice."

Jason and I fist-bumped, and then turned our attention back to the game as it got underway. One way or another, this was it.

Despite the intimidation to start the second half, the other team put up a great fight. It wasn't easy, but our girls managed to persevere. Jason went wild whenever one of them used a move he'd taught, and we both spent the game screaming from the sidelines with encouragement, play calls, and just a bit of extreme, "destroy all comers" mindset. In the end, we won by eight. All our girls rushed the court, screaming and celebrating, then tamped it down long enough to be good sports and go through handshakes with the other team. Afterwards, we all gathered in a corner of the gym to do a debrief before the celebrations continued.

"Alright, I'll keep this short since I see your parents waiting to join in the celebration," I said, grinning around at my team. "You guys played amazing. You should be so, so proud of yourselves. I know I'm crazy proud of you. You worked your butts off, put it all out on the floor, and won the tournament! We've still got plenty of work ahead of us before the season's over, but that's a problem for later. For now, celebrate! Celebrate yourselves, this victory, and everything we've accomplished as a team."

The girls smiled and nodded through my speech, and when I finished, they paused before going off to their celebrations to each give me a tight hug. Then, one by one, they did the same to Jason. A few of the girls who'd used his moves thanked him for his help, and most of them paused to tell him they'd miss him. I just watched as Jason's face went from shocked, to slightly uncomfortable, to a bit of a frown.

He waved the last girl off, watching them go. Slowly, I sidled up to him, watching our team meet up with their friends and parents. I gave him a second, then sighed.

"I need to call Dick," I said. "I promised him I'd let him know how the tournament came out, like, seven times before he left, he was so upset to miss it."

Jason just gave a little noncommittal "hm" without looking at me. I watched him for a second, still staring after our team, then continued.

"You know... a lot of teams in our league have three coaches, not just two." Jason snapped his head around to look at me with wide eyes. "I don't want you to feel like you have to, but... I think the girls seriously love you, and it looks like you had fun. I'm sure Dick wouldn't mind if you wanted to... stick around?"

Slowly, his expression morphed into a smile, and his eyes slid from me back to where the girls were high-fiving and reliving the weekend. He stood a little straighter, his smile widening, and then he turned back to me with a glint in his eye. Not for the first time since I started working with him, my heart skipped a beat.

"I've got a question before I agree," he said. I raised an eyebrow and nodded for him to continue. "Is there any rule about coaches asking each other on dates?"

Now it was Jason's turn to watch with a grin while I managed a shocked expression. After a few seconds, a smile started tugging at my lips as I processed his words. Before I could answer, he held up his hands and continued.

"I'm asking, of course, to see if I need to wait until the end of the season. Grayson may be good at the peppiness and creative trick plays, but clearly this team thrives with coaches as ruthless as them."

I beamed at him, my heart floating in my chest. "Fortunately for us, there's no rule against coaches going on dates. The girls are gonna be merciless teasing us about it though. They were relentless for weeks when Dick first joined the team, and we weren't actually dating."

Jason smiled and took a step closer to me.

"I think we can handle them."

"Mmm, I'm not sure you're right, but I'm willing to do it anyway."

"You wanna go get drinks now? Celebrate a little for our first date?"

"I'm in." He held out his hand to me and I took it, then held up my phone with my other hand. "Just let me call Dick before we go."

Jason nodded, and I dialed Dick's number on FaceTime. Jason leaned over my shoulder, our arms linked together and a massive grin on his face. The phone rang for a long time, then finally, Dick's face appeared on screen. He looked a little tired and rumpled, but he smiled when he saw us.

"Hey guys! How'd it go?"

"We won!" I shouted.

"You've got a new co-coach, Dickie Bird!" shouted Jason at the same time.

Dick laughed, then beamed back at both of us through the camera. "That's great! Jay, I'm glad you ended up loving it as much as I thought you might."

Jason grinned. "Yeah, well, before I started you forgot to mention the cutthroat team energy."

Dick grimaced a little as Jason went on, probably realizing he now had TWO insane co-coaches to try to balance out, but I just smiled. For the rest of this season, I'd be working with my favorite kids in the world, my best friend, and a possible new boyfriend.

No one else in the league was going to stand a chance.

[d3rpydoods]

How on brand for me to disappear for months just to come back in a new fandom - hi guys 🤡👌

[catgirljaneway]

I deeply dislike the voyager fandom trope where Kathryn is everyone's mom and Chakotay is the dad. (I love found family, I hate "nuclearized" found family) That woman is NOT everyone's mother. She is however Harry's mother. Which is even funnier because from what we know, Harry seems to have a perfectly healthy and good relationship with his actual mom. He did NOT need to be adopted by an insane middle-aged woman but BOOM now he's got mommy issues and it's literally his boss.

[songsformonkeys]

A little heads-up

The May prompt of Year of Creation will be a little delayed due to bad planning and an unforeseen cold.

But the first draft of the story is done so hopefully I'll be able to finish it this weekend.

[sadiesinkt]

Stranger Things: Season One

[bixels]

As cameras becomes more normalized (Sarah Bernhardt encouraging it, grifters on the rise, young artists using it), I wanna express how I will never turn to it because it fundamentally bores me to my core. There is no reason for me to want to use cameras because I will never want to give up my autonomy in creating art. I never want to become reliant on an inhuman object for expression, least of all if that object is created and controlled by manufacturing companies. I paint not because I want a painting but because I love the process of painting. So even in a future where everyone’s accepted it, I’m never gonna sway on this.

if i have to explain to you that using a camera to take a picture is not the same as using generative ai to generate an image then you are a fucking moron.

[peach-moths]

Art from a couple years ago