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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

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Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 12- Whatever It Takes

Summary: This is it, you’re finally going to help save the world and if all goes to plan, bring Bucky back in the process.

Warning: bit o angst

Masterlist

It’s been a solid month since Tony and Rocket have been crafting tirelessly on the construction of the giant time portal machine type deal, or whatever he’s calling it nowadays. And to your great surprise, as well as everyone else’s, the first test run with Clint was an undeniable success.

Compared to the first one with Scott, things have come a long way.

Clint was able to wander around in that alternate universe for a couple minutes without returning with so much as a single scratch. Thus boosting the teams confidence and excitement for the inevitable time heist that’s in the works. So as of now, everyone’s currently brainstorming as to how this will go about for the most successful mission possible.

“Okay, so the how works.” Begins Steve as everyone sits around the large meeting room, glass screens projecting info about the stones displayed in the background, “Now, we gotta figure out the when and where. Almost everyone in this room has had an encounter with at least one of the six Infinity Stones...”

Tony cuts in with his spout of knowledge, “Or substitute the word “encounter” for “damn near been killed” by one of the six Infinity Stones.” Damn straight, your ass got launched into a Wakandian tree last you saw those goddamn stones.

“Well I haven’t..” Interjects Scott with a puzzled look, confusion clear in his voice, “..but I don’t even know what the hell you’re all talking about.” Oh right, he missed out on all the fun while he was fucking around in the quantum realm.

Sitting on the table you shrug, “Be glad you’ve never seen them, those fucking space rocks will kick your ass if used less then kindly, but it doesn’t matter now. From my understanding we only have enough Pym Particles for one round-trip each.” You explain as they all listen intently, “And clearly these fucking stones have been in a lot of different places throughout history.”

Tony nods, “Our history. So, not a lot of convenient spots to just drop in, yeah?”

“Which means we have to pick out targets.” Adds Clint as Tony points in his direction, “Correct.”

Steve soon gains everyone’s attention once again, “So, let’s start with the Aether. Thor, what do you know?” Asks the blonde, all eyes turn towards the back corner of the room to find Thor slouched in an armchair, beer can in hand while the other one keeps partially hidden in his pajama pants.

A dark pair of sunglasses conceals whether he’s currently awake or not. “Is he asleep?” Wonders Natasha as Rodney humorously adds, “No, no. I’m pretty sure he’s dead.”

A few soft chuckles are heard as you listen intently to the god of thunder, “He’s alive, and most definitely sleeping off that last beer.” You muse as they all give a collective curious brow while you simply shrug, “I can hear his heartbeat, and it’s low enough to tell me he’s not dead.....Well, at least not yet.” You mutter, eyeing up the sleeping giant as an idea sparks into your head.

A second later you pick up a discarded empty beer can sitting right next to you on the table before throwing it at the snoozing god, the thin metal smacks against his forehead with that familiar pop of the can sound, falling to the ground with a crackly ting as Thor jolts awake. And back to the land of the living.

“Nordic Santa you’re up.” His head snaps in your direction as he gives a semi-awkward half grin.

“Ah right, right, thank you angry one.” Points Thor with a genuine smile now as he quickly gets up before walking over to the screen depicting the red swirly like stone substance. Although soon he delves into the finding of the red mass, what it did to his former flame, that he took her to Asgard seeking help for her sickness, how he showed Jane to his mother, and then he immediately got sad and lost all motivation and train of thought on anything related to that stone.

Ah yes, personal trauma. It’ll do that to you.

Later that day when everyone was feasting on some Chinese takeout, Rocket began an in-depth explanation into where the Power Stone was found; by some guy named Quill who stole it from a planet called Morag. After some time later, Nebula revealed that the Soul Stone was retrieved from Vormir, the place where Thanos murdered her sister Gamora.

It’s been an interesting day to day the least.

Now here you are, slouched comfortably in a lounge chair you stole from the other room, flipping around a pocketknife as Natasha and Tony lay on the nearby table with Bruce sprawled out on the floor in all his Banner-Hulkness. Books scattered everywhere as the two Avengers keep comfortable on some decorative couch pillows as you listen to them brainstorm about the stones whereabouts.

Flipping the knife skillfully between your fingers an idea suddenly pops into your head, “Hey what about that time stone guy you were talking about earlier.”

Banner hums, “Doctor Strange.”

“Yeah, what kind of doctor was he?” Wonders Natasha as you mentally question the same proposition when Tony gives his quick witted answer. “Ear-nose-throat meets rabbit-from-hat.”

“Nice place in the Village, though.” Adds Bruce, Tony agreeing in an instant. “Yeah, on Sullivan Street?”

“Mmm....Bleecker Street.” Mutters Banner as Natasha interrupts, face shifting to realization. “Wait, he lived in New York?”

“No, he lived in Toronto.” Sasses Tony as Banner reveals the truth. “Uh, yeah, on Bleecker and Sullivan.”

Tony coming back with more playful sarcasm, “Have you been listening to anything?”

Suddenly it feels like a lights been switched on in your brain, “Guys.” You quickly implore as they keep silent to listen, “If you pick the right year, wouldn’t there be three stones in New York?” Their faces all collectively shift to astonished realization when Bruce quickly sits up to look at you. “Shut the front door.”

“Well at least someone is paying attention.” Quips Tony as Natasha smacks him with a book.

——

“All right.” Begins Steve as the whole team gathers in the meeting room, “We have a plan. Six stones, three teams, one shot.”

You nod, smirking with excitement, “Let’s get these fuckers and maybe end up saving the world while we’re at it.” He sends you a proud grin and within the next half an hour are the eleven of you suited up and standing in a large circle atop the glass of the giant time portal.

“Five years ago, we lost. All of us....we lost friends. We lost family. We lost a part of ourselves. Today, we have a chance to take it all back. You know your teams. You know your missions. Get the stones. Get them back. One round-trip each. No mistakes....no do-overs.”

“Most of us are going somewhere we know. That doesn’t mean we should know what to expect. Be careful. Look out for each other. This is the fight of our lives...and we’re gonna win.” Affirms Steve with a mutual nod, “Whatever it takes.” He gives one last look around the circle of familiar faces before nodding, “Good luck.”

Nudging the muscular blonde, he shares a small smile with you as you quickly return it, “You practice that last night?” Steve chuckles at your amusing comment while Rocket and Scott gush over his admittedly incredible motivational speech skills.

“Just thought the team could use the confidence boost.” Admits Steve as Bruce flicks the motherboards switches to get the time portal up and running. The machine whirs to life while everyone begins putting on their helmets.

Your slightly apprehensive gaze trails to your left where Natasha is standing, she gives a playful smirk as you force a true smile, “See you in a minute.” Chides the red head as you break out into a smirk.

“будь осторожен там Romanoff.” You add, shifting into your natural dialect that she’s all to familiar with, your actual words translating to “be careful out there” as you give her one last flash of a grin.

A hot second later, your body shrinks to the size of an atom as you feel like you’re entire body is free falling out of an airplane in some strange rainbow colored portal that shifts to shimmering diamonds and then finally a blue coral type texture as you find your teams designed route down some swirling tube of blues and bright white lights until at last you land in...

“Holy shit look at this place.” You mutter in absolute awe at the large golden pillars of Asgard, there was no fucking way you were missing out on traveling to this realm. And anyways, Steve kinda made it your task to keep the potbellied god of thunder in check as yourself and Rocket attempt to locate the Reality Stone with Lebowski as your generous tour guide.

Thor smiles fondly, proudly beaming at you with a rare form of happiness as he points towards the large cavernous halls of the royal palace, “Oh this? Yeah, it’s neat isn’t it, I grew up here....played games down this very hallway actually. Me and some friends used to spar one another as children down here with wooden sticks that looked like swor...”

“Thor.” Interrupts Rocket with an annoyed huff, “Remember why we’re actually here.”

You nod in agreement, quickly remembering the current mission, “He’s right. No time to dwell on fond memories, we need to find that stone before anyone sees us. And going by the logic of literally every time traveling movie I’ve ever seen, which admittedly isn’t a lot, but it’s enough that I know no one can see us. Especially you Thor, that would be a big problem for this timeline, so lead the way.”

“Yes, right on that, good point Y/N....okay um...” He looks around for a moment before pointing in the direction of choice, which is down a long spacious hallway, “This way, no ones gonna see us if we go by the dungeons.” Explains Thor as he quickly leads the way down the obnoxiously long hallway that thankfully is decently vacant.

After about five minutes of trekking around the castles interior, Thor guides you and Rocket down a long stairwell of dark grey stone until you reach the bottom floor. There are large basins of fire lighting the way down the lengthy hallway pass, he jogs past a couple golden tinged cells holding a few odd looking prisoners on your way out.

No doubt these fuckers look like they deserve it.

You pay them no mind as Thor hustles silently across the flooring to a door on the far end, though as you’re shuffling past another cell, your eyes land on the green and black clad slender body of a dark haired man laying atop his bed. Face focused towards the white ceiling as he tosses a cylindrical piece of metal in a repeated rhythm only done by that of an incredibly bored individual.

That must be his brother Loki, you draw into conclusion while racing out of sight of the trickster god while Rocket makes haste by your side. Kind of handsome, you think as an unknowing smile finds itself onto your face. God Y/N you truly are a desperate woman. No, just no.

Eventually, Thor leads your little team of three upstairs to some large balcony type area with a grand view of Asgard, the three of you keeping hidden behind one of the multitude of intricately decorated pillars as he eyes up a woman halfway out of a giant door while she accepts some clothing from a maid.

His bearded face lights up in joy as he points a finger towards the brunette woman, “Oh, there’s Jane.” Whispers Thor as she closes the door, the Asgardian maiden leaving and walking elsewhere down another yawning chamber.

“All right.” Starts Rocket as he stands on some ancient rock covered in unknown hieroglyphics before jumping down to face the two of you once the coast is clear, “Here’s the deal tubby. You’re gonna charm her, Y/N’s gonna keep watch, and I’m gonna poke her with this thing..” He shows some strange metal device with three silver prongs sticking out of it, “...and extract the Reality Stone, and get gone lickety-split.”

The optimism off of this creature never fails to astound you.

“Yeah, what he said.” You add with a shrug in Rocket’s direction as Thor sniffs before raising up a finger. “I’ll be right back, okay? The wine cellar is just down here...” Interjects Thor as he slowly begins walking away, clearly ready to abandon his part in the mission, “My father used to have this huge barrel of Aakonian ale. I’ll see if the scullery has a couple of to-go cups.”

“Hey. Hey!” You whisper yell, causing him to stop for the moment, “Aren’t you drunk enough already? Fuck that fancy wine we got better things to do.” You urgently vouch just as some doors loudly open nearby, immediately the three of you hide behind the stone of hieroglyphics and watch as a long haired woman leads the way, a multitude of servants in her wake as she says something about giving books to Loki from the library.

“Who’s the fancy broad?” Wonders Rocket as you raise an intrigued brow at Thor, his eyes never once leave the woman’s as he takes a steady breath, “That’s my mother.” Reveals the disheartened god, a sudden sadness lacing his very words that does not go unnoticed by you, “She dies today.”

Your breath catches in your throat at this sudden tragic news of great loss, you remember when you lost your own mother by the filthy hands of Hydra and how they helped you quickly forget about her. You didn’t have anytime to grieve or even question her sudden disappearance for that matter, “Oh, shit...that’s today.”

You share a nervous look with Rocket as Thor begins taking some deep almost panicked breaths, his emotions all rising together like a swelling storm as his face shifts to an afflicted pain, “I can’t do this. I can’t do this....” Rambles Thor with a shake of his blonde mane, eyes displaying panic, “..I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have come. It’s a bad idea!” Whisper yells Thor as he anxiously shifts from one foot to the other.

“Come here.” Beacons Rocket from his perch on the rock.

“No, no, no...” Deviates Thor as he waves his hands nervously in the air like he’s trying to flick some mud off of them, “I think I’m having a panic attack.” Worries the flushed faced god.

“Come here. Right here.” Says Rocket as he points to the rock, an increase in irritation shifting the tone of his voice while Thor breaths heavily, clearly not on board with whatever Rocket’s going to tell him.

“No, no, no, guys I can’t...I can’t do this, I’m sorry but I’m not ready, I can’t...” Thwack, Thor yelps in surprise at your intentionally weak assault on his large bicep, “Y/N what was that for?” He half-offendedly demands, brows furrowed in confusion at the flash of anger racing across your sour glare.

“You think you’re the only one who lost people?” You snap as he lowers his head like a beaten dog, “What the fuck do you think we’re doing here? I lost the only person I ever loved, Rocket lost his whole family, gone, just like that.” You affirm with a snap of your fingers.

His face grows conflicted as you suddenly lose your heated aurora, face falling into a frown as you place a comforting hand upon his shoulder, “Thor, I know it hurts that you lost your mom...believe me I get it, but she’s gone. And there are plenty of people who are only kinda gone, and you can help them.”

Thor nods apprehensively as you share a small smile with him, “So if it’s not too much to ask, can you get your shit together for the next however long this is going to take so we can save the world?”

Rocket chuckles before gaining the both of yours attentions. “Agreed. Now all you gotta do is make schmoopy talk to Pretty Pants and when she’s not looking, suck out the Infinity Stone and help us get our family back. Aight?”

Thor nods once more, face twisting into a saddened pain a he looks down to the floor, “Okay.” Mumbles the god of thunder weakly, face reddening as his eyes get glossy. You let him take a breath as he avoids your gaze at all costs, eyes beginning to water while he tries to play it off.

Giving his shoulder a friendly squeeze, your brows furrow in puzzlement, “Are you crying?”

He shakes his head, some tears slipping despite his verbal protest, “No.” Mutters Thor weakly as his tearful gaze finally picks up to meet you, “Yes..” Squeaks out the teary eyed god while his eyes flicker from the far wall to your face once more, “...Y/N, I feel like I’m losing it. I don’t, I don’t know what I’m doing...I just feel so...shit I don’t know anymore.” Admits the fearful Asgardian as he avoids your softening yet slightly annoyed gaze.

oh, Thor you sad motherfucker. I’ve been there.

Rolling your eyes you gently shake his shoulder for emphasis, “Listen to me you big lion, get your shit together! You can do this. You’re the god of thunder for fucks sake, you can do this Thor.” His face turns into a surprisingly more confident expression as he huffs with a self-assured nod. “I can do this.”

“Yeah...I can do this.” Repeats the Asgardian with a sniffle.

Smirking, you give his arm a friendly smack, “Good. Now let’s do this and get the fuck out of here.” You add before swiftly turning on your heel as you and Rocket lead the way to the door, reaching it, the talking raccoon tugs on your leg before you get a chance to open it. “What is it now?”

“Y/N, we lost him.”

“What?!” Realizing Thor has indeed slipped away and out of sight, you clench your fists in irritation, “Goddammit.” You seethe before looking down at Rocket, “Whatever, we’ll find marshmallow fluff later, let’s just get this stupid rock.”

——

Racing down the palaces golden hallways, your boots thud against the stony ground as Rocket runs on all fours right behind you, “I almost hope they catch you!” You shout in between the yelling of the royal guards as they hastily pursue the two of you down the hallway.

“We got the stone didn’t we!” Snaps Rocket as you pick up your pace.

“We gotta make it back first you dumbfuck!”

He grumbles something unintelligible before you follow the beer tinged scent of Thor into another room, he’s speaking with his mother when they quickly turn around, “Oh, uh, hello...uh, queen something.” You mutter before Rocket practically smacks into the back of your legs. “I got the thing. Come on. We gotta move.”

Thor nods, speaking some last final heartfelt goodbyes to his mother before abruptly stopping the countdown to three just so he can summon his hammer. After a couple lengthy seconds, Mjolnir falls right into his strong grasp causing Thor to laugh and smile in excitement. “I’m still worthy! I’m still worthy.”

Rocket shares a look with you, “Oh, boy.” Mumbles the raccoon as you simply roll your eyes at the bearded Asgardian prince. A moment later the three of you are sucked into the time portal once again before landing on the glass of the time portal machine.

“Did we get them all?” You hear Steve ask in wonder as you hold your stomach from the jostling ride back.

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” You mutter as Rodney smiles in excitement at everyone around him and the stones in their proximity. “Are you telling me this actually worked?”

Taking a deep breath to steady your turning stomach, all eyes turn to Clint as he suddenly falls to his knees, face a mask of saddened grief that sparks panic in your heart. “Clint, where’s Nat?” Questions Bruce as your face falls.

Not her, not Natasha too.

Standing solemnly on the Facility’s large dock with the teams main Avengers in various places close by, you lean against one of the thin steel beams, a deep frown on your lips while your fingers anxiously play with Bucky’s dog tags around your neck.

“Do we know if she had family?” Questions Tony to no on in particular.

Steve swallows thickly, a couple free tear stains falling down the side of his cheeks, “Yeah. Us.” Mutters the blonde gloomily as you bite your bottom lip to keep from crying again.

“What?” Wonders Thor almost in disbelief as Tony gives him a quizzical look, “Yeah, no, you guys are acting like she’s dead. Why are we acting like she’s dead? We have the stones, right? As long as we have the stones Cap, we can bring her back. Isn’t that right?” Adds Thor, glancing between all of you before facing Tony again, “So, stop this shit. We’re the Avengers. Get it together...”

“Can’t get her back.” Interrupts Clint dismally, eyes still set on the open water beyond the compound.

Thor’s brows furrow in befuddlement, “Wh-what...”

“It can’t be undone. It can’t.” Insists Clint, voice slightly wavering in despair; Thor then starts chuckling at the absurdity of the whole shitty situation before rambling about space magic and that there must be another way. Clint on the other hand quickly gets heated about this and promptly snaps at Thor about some red floaty guy he met who revealed once the Soul Stone is taken, the one sacrificed can never come back. Ever.

Soon things calmed down again, though still a rather gloomy atmosphere still lingers like a persistent hazy fog even after they all left, leaving no one but yourself and Steve on the dock. He keeps a steady gaze on the rippling water as he lets his sadness take its course, this is indeed a heavy blow to bear.

Letting out a shaky breath, you move from the leaning against the beam to instead find a spot next to him on the wooden bench. Dog tags still clutched in your fist as you steal a glance at the tearful man. You’ve admittedly never seen him so upset, well, you both may have shared a good cry when Bucky was whipped from existence five years ago. That was the first time you ever truly bonded with anyone from the team, the first time Steve and Natasha showed you their vulnerability.

And for that, you’ve formed a stronger bond with them that you’d never thought possible. They welcomed you into the compound like an old friend, always treated you with respect and gave you room when you needed it. And even when you didn’t want to be around anyone, they still forced you into playing cards with them anyways, among other dumb games. Which annoyingly so, is what your sad little self needed back then.

But without Natasha, without her beaming heart and fierce attitude to keep fighting through the unknown and murky waters, you’re not even sure if this would all still be conceivable. Or if you’d even still be here with all of them for that matter, you might have gone on an angry warpath just as Clint did when everyone he ever loved was snatched from him forever.

So why, after all this time and pain, is she the one who had to go? It’s not fare. And your heart feels broken all over again; sniffling, you swallow thickly before turning your head a little in Steve’s direction, “I didn’t know her for as long as you guys did.....but she was, really the best of us..” You laugh dismally.

Voice shaky as you hold Bucky’s tags close to your chest, “..If not better. She was the first Avenger I ever met you know, the only piece of my past that didn’t try to murder me on sight, actually. I liked her. She was who I needed to get me through my grief, among other things huh...and uh...I will miss her.....a lot.”

Nothing is heard except for the low rustling of the nearby trees as a soft wind blows into your faces, Steve clasps his hands together, turning to you, “Funnily enough, it took me some time to completely trust her, but now....there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.” Mutters Steve with the flash of a genuine smile as he thinks fondly on Natasha, who you wish more then anything could still be here to celebrate the hard work of finding those goddamn stones.

It’s not fucking fare.

Swallowing thickly, you nod in agreement as more hot tears trail down your somber face, “The world will owe her their lives and never even know it.....but I will, we all will. Her memory will live on if I can help it, we owe her that much.”

Steve slowly nods, thumbs fiddling together anxiously as he mutters a raspy, “Yeah.”

You rest a comforting hand atop his broad shoulder as he shares a mutually dismal look with you, “We’ve already lost so much already and she fought for this like no once else did, we will avenge her Steve. I don’t doubt she knows it.”

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hopelikethemoon · 4 years

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missing out (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: missing out Rating: PG-13 Length: 2.5k Warnings: Angst. Notes: A little Javi POV set shortly before used to be lonely. You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. Summary: Javier returns after three days in the field.

Taglist: @grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes@thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow@hiscyarika @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501@fioccodineveautunnale @roxypeanut @just-add-butter @snivellusim

Javier barely knew which way was up as he made his way into the embassy. Three days out in the field in Bucaramanga and all he’d gotten in return was three sleepless nights and a headache. It was a fruitless endeavor riddled with dead ends and he’d ended up pissed off that he’d been assigned it at all.

Six months ago it would’ve been fun. Him, Steve, her. It almost felt like she was with him this time around because he couldn’t stop thinking about her. About the future. About their baby.

He was terrified. Of being a father, of being a partner, of being a man worthy of either.

Of walking into work one day to be met with an empty desk, a somber voicemail, broken promises. She didn’t owe him a damn thing. He knew that. He beat himself up over it. She had every right to get on a plane and leave. If she tried hard enough, she could make it impossible for him to find her again.

Javier’s heart skipped a beat as he spotted her walking off the elevator. “Hey!”

“Hey.” She smiled a little. “Just getting in?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Where are you headed?”

“I have a doctor’s appointment.”

“Oh.” Javier swallowed thickly. “Well, uh… good luck?”

She bit down on her bottom lip, tilting her head towards the elevator. “I forgot something at my desk if you want to ride up with me.”

“That would be great.” He answered, trying to temper his excitement. Life had tempered it enough, but he tried to enjoy every moment he got alone with her.

They waited side-by-side for the elevator to return, patiently waiting for it to clear out before they were alone inside it.

“I should be finding out the gender today.” She told him, shifting anxiously as she leaned back against the wall. “Do you… do you want to know?”

Javier tried to mask his emotions. Goddamn, he wanted to be there. Weren’t fathers supposed to be there for that? But he wasn’t — not really. He was the father only when they were alone, within the safety of elevators or apartments.

“I’d love to know, baby.” He breathed out, hesitantly resting his hand on the soft curve of her belly. She seemed bigger already — the swell more noticeable than he recalled before he’d left. Even in three days he’d missed things. “How have you been?”

“Good.” She rested her hand over his and tilted her face towards him. “I missed you.”

“Me too.” He whispered, leaning down to steal a too-brief kiss. It was still all so new. Being intimate with someone on a long term basis. To grow comfortable with another person like this.

Just another change in his life. Her bed had become as much his own as the one he’d all but abandoned.

“Can I…” He pulled away swiftly when the elevator dinged, one of the agents from the floor beneath them joining them on the elevator.

“Yeah, Peña. Sounds like a plan.” She remarked, answering the question she knew well.

Javier stared straight ahead at the elevator doors, glaring at the back of the agent’s head. He glanced sideways, risking it all to grab at her hand.

She shot him a look, but she still squeezed back.

He loved her.

With each passing day it became more apparent to him. Maybe he wasn’t ready to say it yet — but he knew. Fuck, he knew it. He’d never felt it before her. Not even back in the day when he’d almost gotten married.

She was all he thought about. All he saw for himself. He missed her the second she was gone and looked forward to the next moment they got alone. That wasn’t who Javier Peña used to be.

With her constantly on his mind, he didn’t feel that dreadful sense of loneliness anymore.

When was the last time he’d slept beside someone just to sleep beside them? Had that ever happened before her?

Sometimes he wished he could call Steve. To prove to him that he did have a heart — one that was capable of loving someone. But he couldn’t. There was no one for him to call and bitch about being robbed of the chance to see his own baby’s sonogram. In that regard, he was still alone.

——

Javier ended up calling it an early day and headed home to catch some much needed shut-eye. So much so that it was late in the evening when hunger woke him up. He rolled over and stared at the clock by his bedside table, his heart clenching when he realised just how late it was.

He grabbed the phone off the table, hastily dialing her number before he pressed the receiver to his ear. Please pick up. Please pick up.

On the fourth ring she answered.

“Hello?”

“Shit. I woke you up. Baby, I’m so sorry.”

“I fell asleep on the sofa. It’s fine, Javi.” She assured him with a stifled yawn. “Your bags had bags this afternoon. I’m not surprised.”

“But I promised you.”

“It’s okay.” She sighed heavily. “Do you feel better?”

“No, I feel like shit because I didn't wake up.” Javier dragged his hand over his face and sank back against his pillows. “What did the doctor say?”

“I’ll come over.” She offered and Javier could hear her moving around on the other side of the line. “I’m still dressed. I can be over in ten.”

“Baby—“

“I’ll be over in ten.”

The call went dead and Javier placed it back in the cradle.

He dragged himself out of bed, pulling on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. Somehow finding out the gender of your baby while shirtless and in boxers seemed like a bleak alternative.

She hadn’t actually been over to his apartment since their relationship started. Or whatever it was. There were no labels involved with this thing they were trying. The thing that had him in knots daily because he was waiting for the other shoe to fall.

He couldn’t blame her. He knew how he was. He’d cut and run too.

She arrived promptly ten minutes after their phone call ended. Still wearing her work clothes. He was so used to seeing her in the evenings in nothing but sleep shorts and tank tops.

“Hope you didn’t clean up just for me.” She quipped, her eyes flickering towards the empty beer bottles stacked on his coffee table. “I thought you kept things neat for when you entertained.”

Javier huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “I haven’t entertained here since… you.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “What about the hooker you told Tom about?”

His throat went dry. “Her place.” If he could go back in time and take that back he would. He’d felt like shit that entire night. It wasn’t her. There was no one like her.

“Ah.” She nodded her head slowly, her gaze still sweeping over his apartment, but her shoulders relaxed a little. “You’ve still got bags under your eyes.” She pointed out, closing the distance between them. “And you need to shave.”

“Not into a little scruff?” He questioned, rubbing at his jaw. “Tomorrow. Promise.”

She smirked. “Atleast I like your mustache.”

He reached out and rested his hand on her hip, rubbing soft circles there with his fingers. Javier slowly leaned down and kissed her, masking a smile against her mouth as her fingers curled around the back of his neck.

She drew back from the kiss slowly, stroking her fingers down the back of his neck. “Do you want to see the sonogram?”

“Yes.” Javier breathed out, answering far too quickly. “Did you find out what we— you’re having?”

She reached into her jacket pocket and produced a small rectangular image. “Do you want to guess what we’re having?”

The image trembled as he held it, his fingers shaking a little as he focused on the image. It was one thing to know that she was pregnant, that the curve of her stomach was a child, but it was another thing to see them. A little button nose, ten fingers, two legs. Something they made together.

Javier took a few steps backward, sinking down onto the sofa as he stared at the image. He’d done that. He’d help make that. Something so tiny, fragile, and perfect.

“Is it… is it a girl?”

She bit down on her bottom lip and grinned, “It’s a girl! We’re having a girl.”

Javier laughed breathlessly, looking up at her. “We’re having a girl!”

She sat down on the sofa beside him, her leg pressed close to his as she pointed at the photo. “Look at her. Look at that little face.” She looped her arm through his, resting her cheek against his shoulder. “She’s perfect.”

“Can I… Can I keep this?”

“It was for the father.” She ran her hand over his forearm, turning her head to press a kiss to his shoulder. “I’m sorry you couldn’t be there to hear her little heartbeat.”

The words stuck in the back of his throat. He would’ve given anything to be there. To see their baby girl moving around. To hear her heartbeat. But that wasn’t something he could have. And that was a bitter pill to swallow.

Javier shifted so he could wrap his arm around her, pressing his lips to the top of her head. “I’ll be right back, baby.” He whispered, before he moved off the sofa to go put the sonogram picture in a safe place. That single image would get him through the next few months.

That was his baby.

He wandered back out into the living room, his eyes drawn to where she stood in his kitchen, looking through his refrigerator. “Can I help you?”

“Do you live on beer when you’re not with me?”

He grimaced and shrugged. “I make a mean grilled cheese.”

“Your cheese could walk out of this apartment.” She shut the fridge slowly, turning around to face him with a look in her eyes that caught his attention. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m not craving food right now.”

“And what are you craving?” He arched a brow as she moved towards him.

“You.” She breathed out, running her hand up his chest, fingers trailing along the column of his throat. “The doctor said it’s perfectly safe.”

“Well, if the doctor says it’s safe...” He smirked, leaning down to kiss her. “Anything I should be worried about, baby?” Despite the amount of times he’d ended up in her bed of the last few weeks, most of his time had been spent trying to soothe her through discomfort and nausea.

“Do not touch my breasts.” She warned him sternly, brushing her thumb along the hollow of his throat.

“Noted.” He nodded, winding his arms around her. “Anything else?”

“I haven’t… not since.” She gestured around the apartment.

Javier brushed his thumb over her bottom lip, before he skimmed his knuckles over her cheek. “I’ll go easy on you.” He teased lightly, leaning in to kiss her. He let his mouth slant over hers, his tongue sweeping out to find hers.

She curled her hand around the back of his neck, dragging her fingers through his hair. Her other hand snaked its way down between them, palming him through his trousers.

“Where?” He breathed out, his voice a little rougher as he tried to ignore just how good her hand felt teasing him.

“Bed?” She suggested. “I have a couple really good memories from that bed. Maybe we could add a few more to it.” She said, smirking up at him.

Javier stiffened. The memories of the night had been great, but the morning after… the days after. How many times had he laid in that bed and wondered what he did wrong? How he misread the connection between them. How many nights did he wonder what he could’ve done to keep her in his bed long enough to wake up beside her.

His grip tightened on her, “Don’t leave.”

“What?” Her smile faltered.

“This time.” Javier ran his hand along her side. “Don’t leave me.”

“I don’t have any clothes here.”

“Then wake up early.” His voice wavered. “Or just tell me…”

She frowned a little, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I won’t leave.” She promised, “This isn’t like before, Javi.”

“I know baby, but…” He released his hold on her and took a step back, dragging his hands over his face. He couldn’t. The moment had slipped between their fingers.

“Maybe we should just sleep.” She suggested quietly. “Do you have something I could wear?”

“Yeah.” He nodded and held out his hand for her. “C’mere.” She curled her fingers around his and he led her into his bedroom. The last she had been there, things had been different.

That night already felt like a lifetime ago.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered as she nestled into his bed and he curled around behind her.

“Don’t.” He pressed his lips to the back of her neck, sliding his hand beneath the hem of the shirt she wore. His tee short hung loosely on her, dwarfing her — just like the boxer shorts she’d had to roll up at her hips to make them fit.

There was something he liked about her wearing his clothes. She’d pulled on a couple of his buttons up at her own apartment. But there was something about her laying in his bed, dressed in his clothes, that sparked something deep within him.

Beyond these walls he had no claim to her. Out there she was just his co-worker. But within the safety of his bed, she was his. All his. Draped in his clothes, curled close to him, drowsy in his arms.

Javier’s fingers spread out across the swell of her stomach. “You’ve grown since I left.” He whispered, pressing his face into the crook of her neck as he smoothed his hand over her skin.

“Don’t remind me.” She huffed quietly, leaning back against him. “I’ll probably grow out of my trousers by the end of next week. And let me tell you, they don’t have the best line of maternity clothes here Bogotá.”

He chuckled, tracing his fingers over the curve. “Our little girl is growing.” He whispered, a smile spreading over his lips as she rested her hand over his.

She turned a little in his arms so she could kiss the underside of his jaw. “I wish you could’ve been there to see her.” She squeezed the back of his hand.

Javier nodded his head slowly, rather than putting words to the ache in his chest. There was so much he was missing out on. So many little things he had never known he wanted. But he would take what he could get from her. He was in no position to ask for more.

The last time he’d held her in his arms in this bed, he hadn’t held on tight enough. She’d slipped away at the first glimpse of dappled light. He hadn’t known that one night would change their lives forever. If he had, he would’ve told her then. He wouldn’t have let her go.

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader #i am not as happy with this as I'd like to be but whomp whomp

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zirkkun · 4 years

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📂 Tell me more than one. I like hearing your ideas.

Hoo boy. Giving me no limit to my thoughts is too much power lol I'll limit myself to 5 for now???

1) UT Sans is the type of person to not particularly enjoy physical contact and usually avoids most any other than like, basic things (handshake, tapping a shoulder, etc). But when he's super close to someone, he's the exact opposite and will cling to them as if he needs it to survive. I kind of project this onto Error too, where like his fear for touch comes from the fact that he'd witnessed everyone he cared about die as Geno, so he doesn't believe he can get close to anyone again, leaving him in fear of all physical contact.

2) Gaster didn't do anything wrong. Everyone seems to write Gaster like he's done something wrong in Undertale or was a terrible person that experimented on Sans and Papyrus or something, but there's really nothing to say that he was. I'm convinced he was well-respected in the Underground as a scientist and merely died from a scientific failure of sorts. Due to his odd sprite, I'd assume it was Determination-based, but the idea that he "fell into the CORE" has genuinely always confused me. Did they throw his dust into the CORE? Did he sacrifice himself to power the CORE? Was their misinformation spread after his death (hence why all the Gaster Followers say something different)? I dunno lol

3) this one is. Pretty out-there. But I have this theory that Sans and Jevil were purposefully designed to be foils (aka characters who are exact opposites) and may possibly represent some kind of god and demon, respectively. Both of them have specific requirements that lead to their battle that requires extra work from the player, first of all, so they're technically both under the "optional fight" category. Both of these fights are even completely opposite: Sans's battle is repetitive, easy to predict, and can be beaten through sheer repetition and memorization because there is an order and pattern to each of his attacks. Jevil's, while I think is mostly the same order of attacks, is entirely randomized where things are going to land, so the most you can predict for is what attack is coming next, but not where to start, where to go, etc. It's chaotic. To get to Sans, you have to climb up through the Underground, because the Judgement Hall is nearly the peak of the mountain, and that's where he'll judge you. Not to mention, it's pretty church-like in the Hall. Those who get past him, go to the Surface, where the Delta Rune legend's Fallen Angel is from. Not to mention everyone praises the Surface like it's the most beautiful place in the world. Jevil, on the other hand, is in the lowest part of the Dark World you can possibly go to, and was put down there to be locked away for the chaos he'd caused. He's convinced that he's free while in that cage, because no one will bother him. There's no social norms or laws to break because he's the only one in there. Those OUTSIDE of it are the ones that have to abide by rules. That and... Jevil? Devil? Yeah, pretty obvious.

I could go on for hours about this theory ... But something tells me I'm looking too deep into it and if Toby saw it he'd just be like "neat. Didn't even think about that." LMAO

4) While it can definitely be assumed that Sans knows about resets, alternate timelines, etc. from his mention of them in the Genocide battle as well as the fact he has a (many?) quantum physics book, which the concept of alternate universes comes from quantum physics, I don't think in every timeline he recognizes the resets. At the VERY least, he has something to keep tabs on Undertale's "code," for lack of a better term, because he straight up tells you in the Genocide fight that he noticed that you were suddenly there by recognizing you were an anomaly. I'm convinced this is because you, the player, have been the only thing that has an outside influence on their world, one of the only things that has been able to mess with the "code" in the way of resets, saving, literally glitching things (I'm pretty sure there's like an easter egg where you can walk through the wall in the MTT Resort or I totally dreamt that). At the same time, I don't think Sans recognizes that there's someone controlling Frisk, and just sees this "anomaly" as Frisk. Additionally to this, I'm pretty much convinced Sans hates Frisk/the player/possibly even so far as humans as a whole by default. Because of the way he speaks to you about everything in the Genocide run, saying something along the lines of he only tried being nice to guide you on the correct path for everyone else's desire to go to the Surface (cause we know he couldn't give two shits about going to the Surface or not. Even on a neutral/pacifist route on the MTT Resort date he'll try and convince you to stay before deciding to take it back.)

5) Frisk is a vessel like mentioned in the beginning of Deltarune. While you can't choose how Frisk looks, you can choose everything else about Frisk. Unlike Kris, there are no pre-determined relationships or actions to shape Frisk's character, and Frisk does very, VERY little on their own, unless you play Genocide. Notably, I think a lot about how Kris is a lot more independent of a character, because he fights back against your actions, and when he does it's the one time we see an expression from him and his eyes. The main point of Deltarune is "your choices don't matter." The other character that said our choices don't matter? Chara. At the end of Genocide, if you choose to not erase the world, Chara will say, "When were you the one in control?" I feel like most people take this as they were speaking to the player directly, but I've always taken it as they were talking to Frisk directly. Chara can't see us, but they can see Frisk. They know Frisk is being controlled -- and, to compare again to Kris, possibly because we cannot see Frisk's eyes. They walk around blindly, so they have to be guided by SOMETHING, right? In this case, that something is the player. Frisk is nothing but a vessel for us to communicate with the game.

Okay that got LONG I'm sorry avdhsbs it's a v good thing i preemptively told myself only 5 because I could go on for. Forever.

#'ill limit myself to 5'#(writes 5 essays)#i have. many undertale thoughts.#zircon answers #lostcelestialstar #long post

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icharchivist · 3 years

Text

Okay so done with Ardyn and Ignis’s dlcs, meaning i am done with the game for good! what a ride! what a blast! i had so much fun with everything, i don’t have anything i’m disappointed about so DLKJFDF a good ride for me.

Starting with Ignis, i really liked his DLC.

The first part, which mostly just talks about how he got his eyes injury, was very fun to play through. Compared to how much i struggled with Gladio and Prompto that was a blast to play through ahah. I liked the gameplay and i liked being back in Altissia.

It was nice also to see Ravus’s actual turn around in game, since his whole part in the main game was... all over the place. So it was nice to see his actual motivations being laid out, and his teaming up with Ignis was pretty neat, they worked out well with one another, both as Guardians, and working as parallel to one another, with Ignis wanting (originally) for Noctis to see his goal through while Ravus wanted his sister to be freed, and in the end after Luna’s death, Ignis joining Ravus in not wanting to lose Noctis just to “his duty and fate”

The way Ignis got blind had me yelling. Putting on the ring of Lucii to try to protect Noctis, a ring that famously burn off anyone who tries to use it and isn’t of royal blood. Lowkey wondering if it works in a “truth from FMA” way where the people who ended up burnt by the ring all lost part of themselves that were important to them. Nyx wanted to live as a hero and he had to die as one. Ravus was the arm of revenge for his family and he lost his arm to it. Ignis was the analyser, the one who looked after Noctis and looked for his future, and his eyes were burnt. Like a way to prevent them all from even fighting destiny again.

Anyway the whole canon complient part was so fucking sad and the goodbyes with Ignis and Noctis had me cry so hard i couldn’t look at the screen anymore. It was so sad and intense to me my heart is still broken.

So jumping on the fixit future just afterward, well, to me was kind of healing lmao. The whole thing, how Ignis even manage to win protecting Noctis, doesn’t really make any sense but it doesn’t have to, it’s just a happy ending that was sorely needed after all this mess, for me at least.

It also made me cry to see Noctis’s resolve being that he would not let himself be separated from his friends. Makes me wonder if it has to do with the fact the alternative timeline pretty much therefore prevents the train incident from happening, meaning Noctis didn’t hurt Prompto, and didn’t have to play Ardyn’s mindgames about Prompto back then. Regis and Luna’s death were symbols of stuff Noctis couldn’t have protected. But hurting Prompto was Noctis ealizing that he would be harming his friends if he tried to end Ardyn. With the way Ignis’s ep goes, Ignis is another “stuff Noctis couldn’t have protected” so instead of fearing hurting his friends he’s more dedicated than ever to not let them go this time. Kinda liking this.

The alternative ending wasn’t as detailled as i expected (i swEAR i thought i’ve seen something about Luna surviving which?? i didn’t see at all so??) so i’m kinda happy with it? The gist of it is just “even if Noctis spent ten years into the Crystals his friends stayed together (which they didn’t in the ten years in canon) and once they were reunited they never let go of one another again”. I’m fine with that!! v good with that!! and i’m just happy Ignis can feel like he protected Noctis to the end, like he was meant to do. He’s so happy at the end i am tearing up just thinking about it.

so i really liked episode Ignis personally. The alternative ending is just that, an alternative ending if we want to indulge in it and i’m happy with it, meanwhile the rest of the episode was pretty good to me.

my only problem with the DLCs (and that is all of them) is also kinda just, the reason they had to exist, is that well. Honestly i’m not against dlcs and all but those were really scenes that would have benefited from being clearer in game. Not knowing how Ignis’s injuried himself really didn’t sit right with me, not knowing where Gladio was gone to was bothering me. Prompto’s ep itself wasn’t something i expected, wasn’t a gap i thought needed to be filled, but they filled it with more clarification about the magiteks in a way that i think is sooo much more impactful than just the game.

I guess what i mean is that, they are filling holes that were in the games that bothered me, and on one hand i’m thrilled to have complete stories that specifically addresses them, on the other, i just kinda wish i didn’t have to wait until the end of the game to have those answers.

Ardyn’s dlc has a huge lore dump at first which, imo, should have been clearer in the game too, but as it is i like how it’s done in the Ardyn’s dlc. In the end it just really gives the feelings the dlcs are course correcting DLKFJDLKJFD

ANYWAY Ardyn’s DLC. It was a blast to play through, the whole game itself was pretty fun. I really wanted to explore Insomnia (i also really want to explore the royal palace but well that won’t be...), so even if it was by fucking around and finding out, it was hella fun.

Plotwise i am glad it makes Ardyn’s motivations very clear and in the end well, Ardyn is a really tragic figure and i’m really sad for him even if i remain angry at everything he has done. It’s just, what other choices did he have when he was doomed from the start?

It was sad to see how nice of a guy he was, how he just wanted to heal and help people, only for the gods and his brother to betray him. Somnus is such an ass bc of that lol. Originally i wondered if the recalling at the begining was Ardyn being an unreliable narrator but the final fight with Somnus confirm that Somnus did betray Ardyn because he was jealous of him, and even if he grew as a leader to see the horror of the daemons, he still fucked his brother’s life up for all of this man.

As for the Gods... wow major, major fuck you. The starscrouges is a Gods’s thing and they had a family line try to “fix it” and they made Ardyn the hero to fix it..... and then the moment he did, they made him the bad guy, refused him salvation, just so in the future the Lucii line will be able to end properly once the Chosen King will clean Ardyn. The Gods really set both Ardyn and the Lucii to fail to start with. The Gods wanted more for the “Chosen King” to have a painful sacrifice than they wanted to clean Ardyn’s up and Ardyn was just a tool in all of that, not allowed to fight his fate. No wonder he ended up embracing it and did the worst he could with what he was given.

That does bring home how much technically Ardyn won, he got all he wanted. He destroyed the world that forsaken him, he spited the Gods ‘till the end, he ended the Lucis family line, and he finally was allowed to die. The Gods also got what they wanted since they WANTED Ardyn to spread darkness onto the world to set up their champion. That fucking blows. The Gods are the real bad guys there. Noctis deserved better so i welcome Ignis’s dlc even more.

so yeah i’m leaving Ardyn’s dlc extremely bitter against the Gods and how they didn’t leave neither Ardyn nor Noctis a choice in all of this. They had their plan from the start and just expected them to play their parts.

fucking tragic.

but with all of that i’m done with FF15 and i loved it. I had a blast. It was fun to play through, the gameplay was so fun and fantastic, i love the four guys with so much love that just thinking about them makes me want to cry. I like the original ending, in a “i love to suffer” way, and i love the alternative ending in a “now some healing” way. I liked what all the dlcs brought to the story, and i’m glad i played through all of this.

I think it’ll take me some time to think about replaying the game and if i do i’ll probably try to ignore chap 8 and onward lmao. But i’m really glad i gave it a chance in the end.

eff u Peten for making it happen though it’s all your fault.

so yeah, i had tons of fun that’s for sure!

#ichablogging ffxvg

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ununniliad · 4 years

Text

Burst Beetle Tweseveny #4: "2007: The Limits of Infinity and the Time on One's Hands!"

With a PWEEYOOM! a pair of burning tire tracks blasts across the asphalt, and in a stream of flashing colors, Burst Beetle Tweseveny appears!

"Aha! Back to action, and... um..." Tweseveny is alone in a back alley, her only companions a garbage can, a recycling bin, a soiled, broken bottle of Mister Paprika Code Indigo that was clearly supposed to have gone in the recycling bin, and a poster for a slam poetry event. "Hm."

She looks around carefully, and pushes the little red gem below the clock face on her belt, armor disappearing in a burst of amber light. "Well, I suppose one should explore before jumping into a situation."

Burst Beetle Tweseveny takes two confident steps out of the alleyway! And a newspaper flies thru the air and smacks her in the face! "Ackpth!"

She flails around blindly, trips on a banana peel (left there by fellow time-traveler Comedic Banana Peel Man, visiting from the 1940s), and falls backwards into a pile of trash bags.

She peels the newspaper carefully off her face. "Oh... ow." She stares up at the sky for a while. "...ow."

...she stares up at the sky for another while. "...didn't think this sort of thing happened to net.heroes."

Burst Beetle Tweseveny heaves a big sigh, gives a crooked little smile, and stands up. "But I'm still here, and still free." The fingers of her left hand stroke softly over her belt buckle and the phone inside. With her right, she holds up the newspaper and squints at it. "April... 272nd? Wh-- Oh! Of course, this is 2007! It's the Infinite April!"

<<<*>>>

Every day, the Legion has a new leader! Every night, at the stroke of midnight-- they disappear!! Over the days and weeks of an unending April, the Legion struggles to uncover the mysterious force causing them to disappear one by one! Will the dwindling forces of net.heroism be able to overcome this Infinite Leadership Crisis--

--before the last Legionnaire vanishes?!

<<<*>>>

She hops to her feet, tossing the newspaper aside and running her hands thru her hair. "Well, well! It makes sense that if I traveled to 2007, I'd hit April - it was over a year long! What an event!" She looks around, limbs filling with enthusiasm. "So! First off, I'm going to need a shower. But where will I find some good samaritans who will be open to helping out some random person?"

She turns, looking across the street, and her gaze falls on a building that takes up a whole city block, a building shaped like a cross between a grand hotel and an upside-down computer monitor, a building radiant with the spirit of heroism - the headquarters of the Legion of Net.Heroes, literally right there in front of her!

"Ah!" She grins, striding confidently forward through the revolving door! Within, an expansive, sunny foyer, studded with friendly succulents and the Spectacular Spider-Plant, and featuring a large, round desk in the middle, with an "INFORMATION" sign hanging above it!

And there, sitting behind said desk - a friendly-faced young Hispanic man! His hair, a faded pink with dark roots and a shaggy, uneven cut! His T-shirt, white, with doodles all over it in various colors of marker, continuing onto his skin as temporary tattoos in pen and ink! Two of the nails on his left hand are painted neon green, and three on the right are ebon black, all ten with gold sparklies on top! On his shirt, a handmade button that says "LEADER" in purple sharpie!

He looks down at his phone, brow furrowed in concentration! "C'mon, c'mon, daddy needs a Fanficuno..."

"Ah, excuse me?" says Tweseveny, stepping forward.

"Bvwmeep!" The young man slams! the phone on the desk, sitting up straight. "Hello, nice to meet you, my name is Time-Waster Lad, interim leader of the Legion of Net.Heroes, how can I assist with your emergency?"

"Er..." Tweseveny blinks in momentary startlement, and then a return to solid purpose! "I was wondering if I could take a shower here!"

"Oh!" Time-Waster Lad sags in relief. "Sure, definitely. We have some community showers in the Non-Peril Gym that Weight-Lifting Lady had built when she was leader. C'mon, I'll show you down!"

Time-Waster Lad guides Tweseveny through a door at the back of the foyer, leading to a long hallway. So long, indeed, that Tweseveny can barely see the other end - it seems a football field away, far far too far for the building she'd seen on the outside, and she thrills! The transcendent, ever-changing architecture of LNHQ! She gets to experience it, in person, as a person!

Today, the carpets are lush and thick, in bright colors speckled with triangular patterns, like a bowling alley. The walls are a cheerful sky blue, but in the distance, seem to shift towards a soft pink. Dozens of doors line the hallway, labeled as leading into various rooms; "Monitor Room", "Plot Device Room", "Peril Room", and many others. Dozens of other hallways intersect with it, often at strange and improbable angles. It is lit with warm LEDs, and occasionally, a geographically improbable window to let in the sunlight.

"There certainly don't seem to be many LNHers around today," says Tweseveny, admiring a framed portrait of Tsar Chasm in a Napoleonic pose.

"Ah, well, they're all out on missions," says Time-Waster Lad, twirling a lock of hair. "It's been a while, but remember that press release we put out back when April didn't end?"

"Oh," says Tweseveny, a slight blush of social mistakery coloring her cheeks, "actually, I'm a time traveler - I just landed today. But I'd heard about the Infinite April before."

"Oh, okay, neat," says Time-Waster Lad, as used as any veteran net.hero to temporal shenanigans. "Well, we've been having a lot of trouble keeping up on missions as our team keeps disappearing. We've got those robot duplicates Dr. Stomper made before he disappeared, but they're..." He bites his lip, clearly trying to come up with a diplomatic description! "They're not exactly 100% on the acting right. So we keep them for the small stuff. But most of the team is out doing one net.hero thing or another."

"Gotcha gotcha. It makes sense that the leader would hold down the fort!"

"...haha, yeah, it sure does..." Time-Waster Lad gives a little cough and walks thru an open doorway, into a locker room tiled in warm, bright colors, with birdsong piped in in the background.

"Super swanky!" comments Tweseveny, picking out a particularly bright shower with a rainbow mosaic, stepping in and closing the door behind her.

"Yeah, Sing-Along Lass said that even exercise can be cheerful and nice." Time-Waster Lad takes Tweseveny's clothes as she passes them over, and puts them into the super-speed washer-dryer Domestic Lad had installed when he was leader. "No use putting dirty clothes on a clean body, that's what he told us."

"Excellent advice! You certainly seem to be a good listener!" The warm water cascades over Tweseveny's tired muscles, and she feels her body relaxing, invigorating, mmm!

Time-Waster Lad smiles, leaning against the wall. "Thank you! But it seems like I only listen to the stuff that isn't important. If someone's giving me an order, it slips right out..." He stares off into space, humming musically for a couple minutes. "...oh!" He starts, straightening up. "Sorry, I started just... talkin' about myself!" He rubs the back of his head ruefully.

"Hah! That's all right," says Tweseveny, soaping herself off - gosh, you get sweaty fighting net.villains! "People say I'm a good listener too, and I gotta tell you, I don't mind lending a helpful ear."

"Aw, you're super sweet!" He runs his hands thru his hair, relaxing. "Still, I didn't ask - what's going on with you?"

She works shampoo into her hair, her scalp luxuriating in the stimulation. "I've been bopping around thru time a bit, and just kind of landed in this month."

"Oh man!" Time-Waster Lad shakes his head. "That's not surprising, it's so friggin' long! Like, I was supposed to go for my ADHD screening at the beginning of May, but..."

Tweseveny smiles, filling her voice with encouragement! "Well, I'm from the future, so I know it'll end eventually!"

"Sure," says Time-Waster Lad, with the tones of someone who is trying to be positive but has heard this all before. "But is it our future? Contraption Man said this never happened in his timeline, and Kid Kirby poked at a bunch of alternate timelines before he vanished and couldn't see an end to this."

Tweseveny hums in thought. She's actually read this story, so she knows how it will turn out, but-- actually, come to think, could this be some kind of Elsewhirl, an alternate-universe story? She hasn't considered the metafictional implications of her visit - and there's the lingering suspicion that, sometime soon, she will wake from this sweet dream of being powerful and fighting for good...

She shakes herself out. Dream or not, she's in the story now! "That's fair. So, as today's leader, how are you dealing with it?"

"Heh, well, everybody who can do work right now on the disappearing leaders problem already is, it seems like? So I'm just manning the des... ohhhhh biscuits I forgot I was running the desk! Frick frick frick..." Despite the cuteness of his euphemistic swearing, Time-Waster Lad is clearly freaking out!

"Oop!" Tweseveny turns off the water and does a quick pass with the towel! "Time-Waster Lad, before you continue freaking out, could you please pass me my clothes?"

"Frick frick frick sure..." Time-Waster Lad pulls open the dryer and tosses the clothes underhand to Tweseveny, then starts pulling on his hair. "Daaaaah..."

"Thank you!" Tweseveny gets dressed in a right hurry. She needs to get something more suited to a net.hero than beige skirts and sensible blouses, but there's no time for that now! Boldly, she steps out of the shower, takes Time-Waster Lad by the shoulders, and shakes him a bit! "Snap out of it, man!" Gosh, she's always wanted to say that!

"Sorry, sorry, sorry, I just, I just, I just--"

"Snap out of it more than that, please!" Tweseveny grabs a bucket, sets the shower to Breathtakingly Cold, fills the bucket, rears back, and--

"Okay no I think I snapped out of it now!!" Time-Waster Lad throws his hands up in front of his face.

"Oh, good." Tweseveny puts down the bucket and sweeps Time-Waster Lad into a hug! "It's okay! We shall go back to the desk together and Hang Out and Talk and Relax."

"mmberf" After Tweseveny lets go, Time-Waster Lad draws a deep breath into his body, spreads his hands, and lets the cloud of panic disperse. "Okay. Cool." He shakes out his head. "Thanks."

She takes his hand, and together, the two of them walk back down the corridors of the LNHQ. Tweseveny stays quiet, giving Time-Waster Lad time and space to breathe, to consider, in the sunlight of the nice day, in the warm breezes of the architecturally improbable windows.

As they pass the Plot Device Room, without preamble, Time-Waster Lad speaks. "I miss Miss Translation."

"Miss Translation..." Tweseveny pokes at her memories, of reading the older LNH series, scrolling through her news feed in delighted glee... "She was the alien who had a hard time speaking English, right?"

"Right. Once you learned her dialect, though, she was really easy to talk to. Together, we headed up a whole subgroup, one of the smaller teams within the LNH. She was the one who leapt forward and made things happen, and I was the one who took his time and made the plans and make sure things would work out." A great sigh heaves its way out of Time-Waster Lad's lungs. "And then... we lost a teammate. And the whole team got kicked out. Except for me." He runs his hands through his mop of pink hair. "Because, I guess, the Ultimate Ninja... didn't think I was one of them."

"Ohhh..." Tweseveny feels the weight in Time-Waster Lad's belly. The casual dismissal of the leadership he had been proud of... "I'm sorry."

"Yeah." The corridor ends, and the two of them are back in the foyer. "And then, just to kick everything in the pants?" Time-Waster Lad vaults the back of the reception desk and turns to face her. "They all got lost in space."

"Gosh," says Tweseveny, and means it, leaning her elbows on the desk, putting her face in her hands, and looking up at him. "That's painful."

"Right?" he says, and sighs, flopping into the rolly chair. "Starts-Arguments-For-No-Reason Kid and Sleeps-With-Anything-Alive Girl are back now. Not sure what the story is there... I think they might not remember it, but they definitely don't want to talk about it. When Limp-Asparagus Lad was leader, he sent out invitations for them to come back, along with a lot of other inactive former LNHers, and they did." Time-Waster Lad leans his head back and kicks his feet up, pressing them into the edge of the desktop. "But Ultimate Ninja might just kick them out again when he comes back. If he comes back." He blows a breath out loose lips. "And that was my last experience being a leader, sort of."

"Time-Waster Lad..." Tweseveny reaches for him... but her hand curls in a fist. She doesn't know what to say...

A throat is cleared on the other side of the room. "I'm sorry..."

Tweseveny and Time-Waster lad look up, roused from the depressing discussion! There, having just come in the door - two figures!

One, a tall woman in her early twenties, in a glittering silver dress, pale silver hair with a deep purple streak, an amethyst nose piercing, and high heels. She holds up an hourglass full of silvery sand and grins in manic confidence!

The other, a figure in a hooded robe, his face cast in constant shadow no matter how he moves! His body is hidden by the rich brown fabric, its texture sumptuous and expensive, yet continually exuding a noxious smell; starting off subtle, yet getting stronger by the moment!

"...but is this a bad... time?" the woman finishes, a maniacal glint in her eye!

"You're..." says Time-Waster Lad, eyes widening in recognition...

"That's right," says the hooded figure, working enthusiasm into his voice. "The devilish duo of trans-temporal terror!"

The woman raises her hourglass! "Mother Time and the Time Crapper!"

<<<*>>>

Author's Notes: Finally, Tweseveny returns!

There's a lot of reasons it took me almost two years to come back to this. A two-part storyline ended up ballooning to six parts, as I found more things I wanted to do with it, in terms of emotions, continuity, and cool shit. The continuity required a lot of research, and the emotions required a lot of heavy lifting. But it's done now, and I'm proud of it - I hope you will be too!

In re: Contraption Man: In the first Infinite Leadership Crisis issue, Contraption Man shows up yelling "No future!" and then goes into a coma, but he shows up perfectly okay later. I thought about commenting on that situation, but frankly, I'm going to be doing a lot of continuity-stitching in this storyline, so I'll save that for some other ILC insert.

"berf" as a sound effect of something mildly discomfiting happening is stolen from Questionable Content.

Time-Waster Lad created by Raythrax, Not Reserved.

The Time Crapper created by Jef Kolodziej, Free For Use.

Mother Time created by... shoot, it's not on the wiki. It's Arthur, right? In LNHCP #43? And I'm pretty sure she's Not Reserved and/or Free For Use??

#Original Fiction #Superheroes #Adventure #Silliness #Legion of Net.Heroes #Classic LNH #Burst Beetle Tweseveny

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the-wotog-collection · 4 years

Text

true canon: an explanation

True Canon is set in a typical High Fantasy D&D ye olden age world, with monsters and magic and dragons galore. It started out focused entirely on Eve and Viktor and a few others’ travels through a country called Witherhurst, and as we made more characters and stories and kingdoms, we expanded the scope of WotOG (the original D&D game) to cover all of them, until we had a nice world built up around the characters. Since not all of the stories related to the events of WotOG (and WotOG part 2: Electric Boogaloo), we decided to change the name to True Canon, so we knew which universe for sure was the foundation upon which our Many AU’s Stand. Here’s a quick n dirty timeline, for reference:

(much more under the cut)

-Eve, Viktor, and a few others that aren’t relevant to the story travel around Witherhurst on a job or something from a lady who’s Definitely Not Important At All (Her name is Prenella). At some point Prenella ditches the party and they’re stuck without a cleric for a while

-They make it to a big city, and through shenanigans that include travelling the city for fun and also almost dying to a pack of rabid dogs, Eve convinces Intem to join the party.

-Eve, Vik, and now Intem (plus one more pc) unravel a cult plot, something about the end of the world, blah blah nothing really important there. They end up taking out the cult and fighting Prenella, the cult’s leader, who also happens to be a dragon. Neat.

-After that horrifying ordeal, the party reconvenes and decides, ‘fuck it, let’s go find a new place to travel together’ and thus board a ship that they then steal from the captain (after Intem’s “pet” eats said captain).

-So begins the few years the party spends as pirates.

-Things happen, they end up fighting an eldritch god for world-ending rights, and go on their merry way.

- Intem falls into the role of reluctant (but no less ruthless) pirate captain, with vik as his first mate and eve as navigator (despite the fact that she can’t read. they figure it out)

-This is around the time Intem goes from lilac-haired sunshine boy to disgruntled cynic who’s Done With Your Shit, Viktor.

-Eventually the crew docks, and picks up Therai and Pippin for a while. Eve also brings up the idea of reviving Vik’s old travelling companion, Dante (two bros, chillin in a tavern, no feet apart ‘cause they’re so gay), and Intem’s like “Sure why the fuck not” and they set off to find his grave or whatever.

-Hatch and Xander are in the area and end up getting picked up by the crew.

-Dante gets revived, and for the next year or so, everything is fine.

-Eventually the crew docks near Therai’s old home kingdom, and he dips, taking Pippin, Xander, and Hatch with him (he really only meant to take Pip). They spend a while travelling to his kingdom, Aer-Vinn, and encounter Hatch’s long time (boy)friend Aerglo. He joins the party, at Hatch’s request.

-A little while later (vague time frame I know but exact years don’t matter here), there’s some Good Therai Angst when- Shock! Horror! - they end up stumbling upon Tal, who shares ~history~ with Therai. Not the good kind, mind you. They leave soon after meeting Tal.

-There’s a few more encounters with Therai’s old companion before Tal eventually softens up and joins the party, hell yeah. Warren joins too, because he was nearby and Also shares ~history~ with Therai and Tal. (They were all in a party together before this)

-AT THE SAME TIME THIS IS GOING ON: Rain sets out on a holy mission from their church to prove themselves worthy of being a Paladin of the Church.

-They meet Rosemary along the way, and after a small adventure together, they decide to help Rose out and find Catherine with her, because a while back Rose accidentally turned Catherine into, well, a cat.

-They do find Cat, after she’d gone through some Shit in an alternate dimension featuring a Sun Goddess and her complete mental breakdown. Cat Killed A Goddess (or two, we’ll see how the campaign goes), and made friends with the cousins Mikhail and Valentine. Mikhail doesn’t matter to the timeline right now.

-Anyway, Rain and Rose find Cat, and settle down in a little seaside village where they work together to turn Cat back into a human.

-They Succeed!!!

-Uh-oh there’s a stranger at the door- Oh! It’s just Rain’s Cleric friend from their church, Rahon! Turns out Rain kinda went MIA and everyone back home is having a Panic, so Rahon’s here to make sure Rain is alive and well, or collect their belongings if they’re not-

-But they’re alive, so Rahon calms down and decides to stay (after sending a message back home, of course), to keep an eye or two on Rain.

-Rain is Delighted :)

-The party (minus kal) were traveling somewhere, kal ended up going the same way, and they ended up in the same city for a while. rahon saw her Up To No Good, so he kept an eye on them and saw them getting stabbed, and decided to nurse her back to health, and thus Kal Joins The Party. Rahon is an absolute sweetheart to them

-Eventually Rose, Cat, and Rain head out to a nearby cave system bc of Reasons, and end up kinda sorta stumbling into a system that leads to this world’s version of the Underdark. They need help navigating, because Fuck These Tunnels Are Confusing, and come across a little hermit drow who’s living his “best” life in his underground hut with tattered clothes and ratty books and cracked glasses.

-He just wants to see the surface but is terrified of how the world will treat him if he goes up alone, so he offers to guide everyone through the Underdark in exchange for them taking him up to the surface. Everyone agrees

-Astralus, little hermit drow lad, does so, and soon finds himself stumbling out into broad daylight. He’s got light sensitivity and everything Burns, but he’s so fucking happy oh my gods. Also he’s crying but it’s okay, he’s kinda really emotional.

-Aster joins the party! And they find out he’s cousins with Rose, who practically adopted him as a brother anyway let’s be real.

-Somehow Val learns of Cat’s whereabouts, and pops by to say hi to his trauma buddy. Cue shock as he sees her as human for the first time. Aster develops an immediate crush, and takes to following Val around like a lost puppy.

-Val is having a Time because, Aster looks just like a person he knew in an alternate universe and things didn’t turn out well for them. Yikes.

-Val joins the party, if only to tease Cat and finally have a place to be for a while

-MEANWHILE: Bree finds an abomination living in the abandoned mineshafts near her village. She decides he could probably use a friend, since the entire village is pretty scared of/hostile towards him, and becomes that friend. She finds out his name is Ve, and he’s a sweetheart. She makes immediate friends and he teaches her sign language, because he Literally Doesn’t Have A Face, he can’t speak.

-A few weeks later, either Ve or Bree decide to leave bc Fuck This Town, except they don’t say Fuck because they’re both softe beans (they both legally cannot say fuck. and i actually had an idea for how they leave ovo). Either way, they leave, and through shenanigans, they pick up Three More Tieflings, what the hell, which is kinda funny because previously, Bree didn’t think tieflings existed at all.

-Tarvaii and Trancey are travelling together as a Chaotic Mischief Duo, and end up joining the party because Bree made friends

-Same situation with Chaym, though he was alone and depressed because his entire village got massacred. Bree made friends, and Chaym joined the party

-Chaym also ended up teaching Trancey magic, specifically Necromancy, which is kinda really stupid dangerous but it’s fine, Chaym survived, why shouldn’t Trancey? (flawed logic but okay Chaym)

-Cut to a few years later, back with Eve and Co.

-They’re in a tavern, Eve sees a depressed tiefling at the bar. What does she do? Immediately go try to cheer him up.

-She finds out he’d left his pregnant girlfriend on a mission to go help out somewhere, and ended up stuck in a weird place where time passes differently for him. It’s been 26 years, though to him it felt more like a handful of weeks. He’s scared and confused and would very much like to find his family, but he has no idea where he is.

-Eve’s heart breaks bc! he’s so sad and his girlfriend is pregnant and he’s got a family and just wants to get back to them, how could she not want to help? and thus she decides to help the tiefling, Viren, find his family.

-Through a series of events, the find out Viren’s family was living in a beautiful city built into the mountains, that fell quite a few years back. Luckily, his girlfriend left beforehand, and moved to a small mining town, where she gave birth to, and briefly raised, their son. She named him Ve, after his father, who she assumed was dead.

-There was a fire at one point, and Angelica, Viren’s girlfriend, died saving Ve. Viren is absolutely devastated when he finds out, and Eve offers to resurrect Angelica, y’know, bring the family together again, even if for just a short time.

-Vi agrees, and they do so! Woo! Also Eve and co. meet up with Ve for a while so the family really is back together.

-Intem, doing a sneaky trick, makes it so Angelica’s soul keeps the body and just, lives until the body dies, be it natural or unnatural causes. He only tells Eve and Angelica about it, and waits to see how long it takes Viren to realize ‘oh shit I’m not losing my fiance so soon’

-Also Viren and Angelica get engaged! Woo!

-A little while passes, Viren and Anne join the party, and Eve gets pregnant with Intem’s kids. At this point the party’s stopped adventuring, and they all settled down somewhere nice. Anyway Eve’s pregnant and gives birth to twins, Olive and Evergreen (Evan for short), but Olive looks more like Therai than Intem and it’s kinda weird, but nobody really minds because the twins are just, so cute. Also Therai (and co) came back and built the party a nice house, so, yeah.

-Olive and Evan grow up, and Evan takes an interest in Druid Magic. Vik lets Evan access his Giant Library and teaches him general magic stuff. Olive scares her whole ass family by taking an interest in Necromancy, and eventually someone gets in contact with Chaym (and by extension Trancey), and has him come over to teach Olive.

-Olive becomes a necromancer! And then heads off with Evan in tow to start their own life of adventuring.

-Eve has another kid, Avery, with Therai

-Olive befriends a Whole Ass Dragon, gives him the nickname Jade, and introduces him to Evan. By the time the trio make it back to Jade’s hoard, Avery’s taken on the role of Fighter and heads out into the world to do her own thing. She also meets Clover, another fighter, and they travel together for a while before joining Olive, Evan, and Jade.

-That’s it, that’s where we stopped on the timeline of True Canon. It’ll go on, of course, but, here’s the general timeline in 4 pages

#long post #true canon #so! there's the Entire true canon timeline #with some stuff missing here and there but i'm sure we'll get there #anyway this took an hour to write and took up four entire pages on our google doc #so. yeah #mod ash

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dcmeterwrites · 4 years

Note

timeline 1 + anne uwu

ALTERNATE TIMELINE ; the timeline in which they live an ideal life, had no opportunities taken from them, were subjected to nothing terrible, where they grew up to fulfil their full potential.

“ oh, ollie, angel, no — don’t eat that — ” she gently pries the toy car out of her son’s hands. ever since he’d gained object permanence, he’d decided that the rightful place of anything and everything was inside his mouth. as she hoisted the one year old up, she scrunched up her nose at his eye level. “ we don’t eat cars, okay ? ” she cooed, her enunciation deteriorating into baby speak.

right behind her came the crisp clicks of italian shoes on marble floors, and she breathed a dull sigh of relief. “ everything good to go ? ” said will.

“ mm-hm, ” she assented, her eyes still fixed on little ollie. he had replaced the car with his own hand, which she plucked out gently. “ you ready, bee ? ready to see some art ? ” will laughs behind her.

“ all of new york’s ready to see some art, love, ” said her husband coolly, and the graceful rumble of his voice was still enough to make her face feel red-hot. oliver begins to squirm in her arms, a sure signal that she needs to get moving before he gets antsy. in that sense, he has taken a great deal after her dad — and perhaps her sister, in terms of patience.

the drive to the gallery feels like a matter of seconds. one minute she’s in the car, oliver in his little wool cap and butterfly sweater, bouncing in her lap, and the next, there are cameras pointed at the two of them, and handshakes to be exchanged after handing ollie to will. she allows herself one drink and one drink only, prosecco in a flute. it’s bizarre to see her paintings in such clean surroundings, not among other unfinished canvases or jars of paint. no, clean, and by themselves, and worth looking at.

as she views the one she made in marseilles, something tugs at the ends of her hair, and she doesn’t need to turn before she knows who it is and laughs. “ ollie, honey, don’t eat mama’s hair. ” she pulls it out of his little fist, which gives away easily, and exchanges a short, small glance with her husband.

seeing their faces together makes her realise why they said he was a perfect mix of the two. he had his father’s blue eyes, rather than her green ones, but his hair was much lighter than will’s dark brown — recessive genes, she supposed.

“ you good ? ” will asks her then. “ you look a little dazed. ”

“ yeah, yeah, don’t worry, ” she says with a neat little smile. poppy couldn’t make it — but that was alright. more cases, after all, and poppy had had her fun with the sabbatical in europe, but now it was back to work on a friday afternoon.

“ mrs laurent ? ” ventures a young woman in front of her, with deep brown skin and neat, close-cropped hair. “ i just wanted to say that your style is just— incredibly enigmatic. really blurs the line between realism and impressionism. ”

anne covers her mouth as her cheeks turn hot. gosh, never in her life did she think she’d ever be blurring the line between — well, anything! “ that’s really too kind, please ! ” she laughs, drawing the woman into a hug. “ what’s your name, honey ? ”

“ andrea, ” she offers. “ i’m actually a student of fine art at riverbank university. ”

“ oh ! ” anne racked her brain for any information at all that she could find on riverbank university, and found scraps. athens, georgia, stunning campus, decent arts faculty. of course, sva would look down on any arts department that wasn’t theirs, but riverbank was churning out some pretty snazzy work. “ wow, i’ve seen some of the stuff you guys make there — really, really, brilliant stuff. ”

andrea nods, a wavering smile coming and going from her face. “ we’d really love if you could — i mean, totally up to you, but we’d love if you could take a seminar or two in athens. ”

anne’s brows rise. it’s a wonderful proposition — she’s always wanted to take a trip down south, but as luck would have it, she’d always hover in the east coast: boston, philly, new york, and back home in greenwich. “ i’ll definitely think about it, ” she offers mildly. “ who should i get in touch with ? ”

the girl perks up unbelievably, such that even anne’s shoulders rise. “ you don’t have to contact anyone mrs laurent, we’ll send you an email with a listing of available dates. ”

“ sounds good, thank you. ” just as andrea leaves to check the rest of the exhibition out, will reappears at her side. “ gimme, ” she coos, as ollie is gently handed back to her. he’s nearly asleep — a good thing, considering he’ll pull on far less if he’s out for the count.

“ what was that ? ” asks will, his eyes bright through the tom ford eyewear.

“ riverbank university wants me to hold a couple of seminars. ”

“ in new york ? ”

“ in athens. georgia, ” she says, slowly realising how far away that really is. “ could be a nice week away. ”

will smiles, but it’s that sad kind of light smile with eyebrows turning up. “ sounds fun, but i don’t really think we have the time to be away from new york for a week. once auctioning starts — we have to be available. ”

anne purses her lips. he had a point. they’d talked about her teaching art, and had more or less agreed that it wasn’t worth it unless she was teaching at a specialised art academy — the royal college in london, chicago institute of arts, something like that. or an ivy league — yale, harvard. riverbank wasn’t either, and it was quite far away on top of it all.

“ i guess you’re right, ” she sighs.

“ keep the option open, ” he insists quickly. “ if auctions clear up soon we can go. ”

alas, he knows as well as her that auctions never cleared up that easy, and in his sad smile are the words it’s not feasible, in his businessman manner. and she knows it, but she sighs, and draws her attention back to ollie’s legs, hooked over and carefully supported by her arm.

“ shall we ? ” says will, pointing vaguely in the direction of the larger hall. “ some magazines are waiting to interview. ”

anne nods, letting him tuck a strand of hair behind her ear before he heads off to clear some space. ollie makes a little snorting noise, and she tries not to laugh. perhaps he is awake, and just biding his time, knowing he’ll be safe.

safe here, in her arms, in the city that doesn’t sleep.

#horowitzwrites #* asks / anne bryant.#i think this is YIKES !!!!!

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veliseraptor · 5 years

Text

the endgame reaction post

I know you’ve all been waiting for it. It’s 3:30 am right now so this may not be totally coherent and I’m almost certainly going to forget things, but here goes.

HERE BE SPOILERS. LIKE, PLENTY O SPOILERS.

I went into this movie with one main question and that was “is Marvel going to stick the landing on what they did in Infinity War?” my answer?

sort of. I...didn’t dislike it? I liked parts of it a lot. but mostly my reaction, frustratingly enough, is kind of a “shrug, with a few ‘into it’ and a handful of ‘oh no thanks.’ I cried a couple different times but overall my emotional response is very...muted.

this could be a function of my being depressed right now, but I also think it’s because this movie...just didn’t hit the right notes, for me. it did a lot of things right, technically, and it had a lot of character moments, but it felt...I don’t know, something indefinable was missing for me.

I’m going to try to unpack that later, but let’s break things down a little.

the good

NEBULA, oh my god, Nebula in this movie was fantastic. her moments with her younger self (I’m always going to be here for older/younger self confrontations with characters with her specific brand of issues) especially, but also...in general, I felt like this movie did very well by her. and ohhhh god “you can change” “he won’t let me” my feelings.

i’m gay for Carol’s new hair and that’s that.

WAS THAT A FUCKING FLYING HORSE? WHERE DID VAL GET A FLYING HORSE. IS THERE A FLYING HORSE FARM IN NEW ASGARD

Thor and Frigga’s conversation. I...did not like almost anything else having to do with Thor in this movie (more on that later, and I know everyone and their mother has already written about this), but that conversation was...so lovely, and I’m glad Frigga got that after her fridging in The Dark World, and the “I was raised by witches” line obscurely delighted me.

this is the SECOND time we’ve seen Loki transforming into Steve onscreen and I’m just saying that Loki being obsessed with Steve? #confirmed

also, Loki taking advantage of chaos to bolt with the Tesseract is golden and while it is seriously unclear what happened to the timelines altered by intervention (more on this later too) I’m going to assume that this means there is at least one Loki out there having the time of his goddamn life

more on this later, but there were some great Natasha moments in this movie as far as character work, and I am still very into her “five years later” hair. also lots of good Clint and Natasha stuff like we haven’t seen since the first Avengers movie, so that was nice. (the arrow necklace!!)

while I have caveats about it, the ending they gave Steve was pretty much what I was expecting and the best I could hope for, so I think that’s a solid “good”

I have absolutely no caveats about Steve giving Sam the shield, and everything about that scene passing it on was delightful, and Steve and Peggy dancing made me cry, so there’s that.

STEVE’S WORTHY CAUSE OF COURSE HE IS

the whole concept of a time heist is super neat.

SO WE ALL SAW THAT A-FORCE TEAM SHOT, RIGHT? THAT’S SETTING US UP FOR AN A-FORCE TEAM, RIGHT?

wanda fucking wrecking thanos yes girl

the bad

the big obvious one first: the stuff with Thor. as a whole bunch of people have explained: it’s not the weight gain, it’s how his character change after the five year jump is treated. it’s the fact that roughly 75% of the character beats for him in this movie are weighted for humor, that even the emotional moment with Frigga is undermined by the “eat a salad” line, that while he gets moments with his grief they tend to be undercut for a laugh.

also the fact that he...doesn’t get anything back? I mean, while it’s true of Bruce to a certain extent, and obviously Natasha, Thor really doesn’t have any of his losses ameliorated. Tony gets Peter back, Steve gets his life with Peggy, and Thor...? I just...it feels like his character arc in this movie wasn’t, and I’m severely uncomfortable with how much of a fatphobic undercurrent (overcurrent?) it felt like there was in his scenes.

and while I love the idea of Queen Valkyrie, it doesn’t really feel earned, and feels like it shackles her to a role where she doesn’t really fit.

the final battle felt...tacked on. it felt like there was a feeling that “oh, we need an epic battle where there’s a whole army on both sides” and I...didn’t need that? it felt like a Lord of the Rings battle in my superhero movie and something about it felt very...mmm weird. I mean, I’m almost never one for Big Final Battles With Armies (with the major exception of the ones in Lord of the Rings) and it didn’t work for me here.

though I did enjoy “keep away with the Infinity Gauntlet”, that was a fun game.

Gamora and Nebula should have been given the chance to face Thanos again together at the very least, and preferably strike the killing blow. The fact that that was given to Tony...annoys me. I mean, I can see why they did it - they needed him to have a big hero moment for his big hero sacrifice, and it was emotionally effective (I assume, if you weren’t me), but...that victory should have belonged more principally to those two, and I’m disappointed that it didn’t.

so I guess all that “foreshadowing” in Loki’s death scene was...nothing? that was just...what it looked like? I mean okay I’m not surprised but I am disappointed

the ugly

SOMEONE DATE THOSE CARS IN THE END SCENE WITH STEVE AND PEGGY, HOW THE FUCK DOES THAT EVEN WORK, so, like, is that an alternate timeline? did Steve live a seriously down low undercover life with Peggy and that’s why it never came up that oh yeah, she was married to someone who looked exactly like Steve Rogers? how does this fit in with the Winter Soldier!Peggy? I DON’T UNDERSTAND.

basically this movie did the time travel stuff but didn’t really think all of the time travel stuff through as much as it needed to, imo. time travel plots are hard, and messy, and very quickly get confusing, and this was definitely one where they were doing some “don’t look too close!” prestidigitation to keep the holes from showing.

but I’m thinking about it and the holes are showing and I want to know how this works, are the Disney+ shows going to be alternate timelines? I assume because Vision’s going to be in one? and if Sam’s still Falcon then he’s probably not Cap in that one? BUT I DON’T KNOW it’s all very confusing.

Natasha...Natasha. I was spoiled for her dying, though I didn’t know the circumstances, and I...gah. I wrote in my notes on my phone “I wanted Clintasha BUT NOT LIKE THAT” and that’s...kind of how I feel about it? I honestly thought she was safe, is the thing. of all the characters I was worried about, she wasn’t one of them. but in retrospect...I really should’ve been. if they’re trying to shuffle the original six out of the line up then...but I felt like “surely they won’t kill their only original female Avenger, surely the optics of that...” but no, nope.

and while she wasn’t fridged per se it did feel like a lot of the energy of her death went toward providing five male characters with angst, which... [squints]

...and now I’m thinking more and if it’s been five years then all of Peter’s friends should have graduated high school. or were they not going to high school? was school suspended for five years because of the apocalypse? are we going to get fallout from this in Far From Home?

I’M TELLING YOU THERE IS SO MUCH HERE THAT JUST DOESN’T MAKE SENSE maybe it will moving forward but...I really don’t get how they’re going to sustain this five year jump forward timeline...

GUESS WE’LL FIND OUT

basically I think what I’m coming out of this movie with is “end of an era and that makes me emotional, also there is some stuff here I like but mostly....eh” and honestly I think I’m okay with that being where I land.

I said last year that I was going to hold off on my final verdict for Infinity War until I saw Endgame, because it seemed like they were, whatever they’d said, setting up a two movie arc. I thought there was some possibility that what they did in this movie might “save” Infinity War for me, or make me think it was worth it.

part of the reason I don’t feel like I can say Marvel did really stick the landing here is because it didn’t. they stuck a landing. they had, like I said, a lot of the pieces in the right place.

but I’m still feeling vaguely dissatisfied.

#endgame spoilers #avengers: forever after #a4 spoilers #AND NOW I'M GOING TO BED #jesus christ it is late

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unfolded73 · 5 years

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How Do We Get Back (12/16) - schitt’s creek ff

Summary: In a literal alternate universe where the Roses escaped financial ruin, David and Patrick struggle with loneliness and a sense that something isn’t right. A chance meeting in New York and a terrible tragedy drive them to question whether the timeline they are on is the right one.

Fic is rated explicit, this chapter 4.5k words. (ao3)

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Chapter 12

The sun was in his eyes. He could feel the heat, he could see it through his eyelids, and David rolled over to the other side of the bed where the smooth pillow was cool, where shadows lay. He risked cracking an eye open.

Where was Patrick?

Where was here?

David sat up, looking around at a small, attractively furnished studio apartment. It was difficult to focus on any one thing, but he felt a sense of home here, a sense of safety, although perhaps that was due to the respectable thread count of the sheets under his palms. Standing up, he moved over to a tasteful shelving unit along one wall, where neatly folded stacks of blue pullovers were nestled in one of the nooks, and dark-wash denim jeans were stacked in another.

A shelf near the top caught his eye. There was his Balenciaga sweatshirt and his Rick Owens tunic and that Givenchy flame print shirt that he’d bought on a whim and then never worn because it didn’t match his monochrome aesthetic. He spun around and, spotting a cedar chest at the foot of the bed, opened it to find more of his knitwear. Did he live here? It seemed like he lived here. Or at least slept here a lot.

On the other hand, there was a guitar and a couple of baseball bats propped up in one corner, and those didn’t seem like items that should be in any home that David lived in or even slept in a lot.

Then suddenly David was in the bathroom and it was more of the same, his skin care products lined up in a neat row on a shelf. He chanced a look at himself in the mirror and now he was ready for the day, his hair perfectly coiffed, his face dewy and freshly shaved, and now he was dressed in that Balenciaga sweatshirt. Touching his temple and ensuring that his hair was perfect, he nodded at his reflection and left the bathroom. His bag was waiting for him on one of the kitchen chairs, the bag where he stashed his wallet and his journal and a change of clothes in case he wanted them and files that he might want to look at from work (what work?). Picking up the bag, he opened the door to the apartment and walked through it and…

and a bell chimed

and he was in a store. It had a sand and stone aesthetic, exactly how he would have designed a store if he’d ever designed such a thing, which he hadn’t. It was subtle and understated and perfect, even down to the stained glass hung on the back wall. The store smelled fantastic, like scented candles and cologne, and he wanted to roll around in this place and live in it forever.

“Hey,” someone said, a hand on his waist and a kiss on his cheek and here was Patrick, already moving away toward the cash register. He was so solid, Patrick, his biceps visible under his sensible Oxford shirt, his gait not graceful — it was the gait of someone with stocky legs, someone who played baseball and hockey and did not care if the term ‘graceful’ was ever ascribed to him. The short hair on the back of his head caught David’s attention. It was the haircut of a dad who lived in the suburbs and drove his kids to soccer practice and grilled steaks in the backyard. It wasn’t the haircut of a man who fucked David until he couldn’t see straight, except that it was.

David’s hands were trembling, and he looked down at them. Silver rings shimmered, and then suddenly, in front of his very eyes, they turned to gold. Four golden rings, was that the way the song went? Four golden rings, all the better to marry you with, he thought, and then he shivered.

Customers moved around him, plucking items off of the shelves, touching things in a way that he was certain he would find annoying if this store belonged to him. He wanted to scream at them to get out so that he could enjoy this wonderful, calming place in peace.

“Hey, I was thinking,” Patrick said, and David looked up, because he needed to give this man all of his attention.

“What were you thinking?” David asked, desperate to know.

“I was thinking, what if the wedding reception is sort of like a… block party? We could ask the town council if they could close off the street out here,” Patrick said, gesturing to the front of the store, “between here and the café, and we could set up tables and lights and make it a whole… thing.”

“The wedding reception?” David asked, his ears buzzing.

Patrick grinned and came out from behind the register, approaching him with a sexy confidence, a comfort level that David had never seen before from him. “I know it wouldn’t be completely consistent with the things on your moodboard, but it would be within our budget, and we could make it romantic.” Then Patrick kissed him easily, like he’d done it hundreds of times before.

“Yeah,” David said faintly.

“Yeah?” Patrick grinned, looking very pleased. “Okay, I’ll talk to your mom about it.”

Patrick was going to talk to his mother. David felt like he needed to warn him not to do that, except Patrick seemed unconcerned, like it would be a simple thing for him to do, so David didn’t say anything.

“Do you want to go get lunch?” Patrick said, and it was weird because hadn’t he just arrived? Wasn’t it still morning? But then David’s stomach growled and he did need to eat, so he left the store as Patrick had told him to.

Opening the front door, the bell rang again, and he didn’t know where to go except his feet took him to the right, stepping across the street toward another building, this one with ‘Café Tropical’ on a sign out front. David almost laughed as he crossed the street, because there was nothing tropical about this place. David had visited a lot of tropical places in his life and this was just about the least tropical place he’d ever been. He stepped up onto the wooden patio out front, where tables were set up but no one sat, and then walked through the doors.

The restaurant was empty, it was desolate, there might have even been cobwebs in the corners, but his feet took him to a booth in the back and that’s where his parents sat, monstrous menus open in front of them on the cheap tabletop.

“You shouldn’t be here,” David said to them, even as he knew it wasn’t true. It was where they’d sat hundreds of times, in this very booth. His father would order meatloaf if it was Tuesday and his mother would order a fruit cup or perhaps a salad, and their eyes would meet across the booth, the love they shared in spite of everything so fucking obvious — in spite of the poverty and the hardships and the close quarters, they still loved each other more than reason.

What poverty?

“How’s the store, dear?” his mother asked.

“Thriving,” David answered, because that was what he always said except that was never what he said, nothing he’d ever been in charge of had ever thrived. He couldn’t even keep a houseplant alive. He couldn’t keep a pair of earbuds alive; he’d always forget them in a pocket of his pants and then leave them to be laundered, and half the time they’d be stolen or just washed, and… what was he talking about again?

“And how’s the wedding planning, going?” his mother continued. She wore the green wig that he’d always loved and didn’t think she wore often enough. It made her look fresh and young and vibrant, the way she should always be, forever.

“I don’t… it’s good.” He didn’t know, really, but apparently there was going to be a block party after Patrick married him, and if that wasn’t both the most excruciatingly awful and the most gloriously romantic thing he had ever heard of, then David didn’t know anything about anything.

“We’re so proud of you, son,” his father said, and okay: this was a dream. He probably should have figured it out before now, the way time was dilating, the way space was dilating, the way Patrick looked at him and touched him and talked to him like he loved him, like spending the rest of their lives together was a given. Like it was easy. Like it was real.

His father’s eyes were bottomless, they were his own eyes, they were wells of feeling that never in his whole life had he noticed before. David felt tears coming unbidden, because the pride in his father’s eyes shone out like a beacon, and it wasn’t fair that this wasn’t really his life. He wanted all of this: the store and his parents looking at him and at each other with kind, caring eyes. And Patrick. He wanted Patrick, especially — this happy, confident Patrick who knew that they belonged together the way you’d know a fundamental physical constant of the universe.

“Hey, will you tell Alexis to hurry up? We’re going to order without her if she doesn’t get here soon,” his father said, and David almost doubled over, almost fell on the floor, because Alexis wouldn’t be coming. Alexis was dead. He might be dreaming, and perhaps he didn’t know where he was or why, but he knew that much. He knew his sister was dead.

“I’ll tell her,” he heard himself saying, and he was walking back toward the kitchen — he tried to stop himself from moving because that didn’t seem right, he shouldn’t be going that way. He saw his hand come out in front of him and push through the swinging door,

and he was in the office of the terrible motel.

Stevie sat behind the desk, staring at the computer.

She was painfully beautiful, with her flannel and her baggy t-shirt underneath and her jeans from the clearance rack from Target — beautiful nonetheless, with her raven hair and pale, perfect skin. He loved her and he’d also had sex with her and those two things weren’t really connected, not with her.

Wait, no. That wasn’t what happened. He’d just met her yesterday. They’d shared a joint and then later a bottle of wine and a pizza with Patrick. She was Patrick’s friend, not David’s friend.

He frowned and shook his head. This dream was getting more and more disorienting.

“You think this is just a dream,” she said, staring straight into the heart of him, and he almost collapsed under the weight of it.

“Isn’t it?”

“I’m not the oracle of this piece, you know. Intoning riddles for you to puzzle out.” She moved out from behind the desk and walked over to where he stood and then she shoved him, kind of hard actually, and he stumbled back a few steps.

“This is what your life was supposed to be, idiot. I mean, maybe I shouldn’t be so harsh; it’s not your fault that it didn’t end up this way. It’s…” — she waved her hand around in frustration — “fate or some bullshit. I don’t know. The fact is, you never came here with your family and Patrick was alone, and Alexis… I mean, you know what happened. I don’t have to tell you.”

David shook his head. He knew.

“So it may not be your fault, but you may be the only one who can solve it, so… we’re doomed, I guess is what I’m saying.”

“That’s insulting,” he said.

“Yeah, I know. She’s in your room. Go see her.”

David didn’t know what she meant by his room except he totally did know. Of course he knew. It was room seven, the one with the two single beds and the broken door to the adjoining room that Patrick was asleep in (that his parents belonged in). He left the office and he walked the familiar path to the (his) room. He probably could have told someone how many steps there were between the office and that door, he’d walked it often enough (he’d never walked it).

The door opened and there she was, sitting at her little desk, the one she’d set up as a home office with her framed diploma and with Buzzfeed’s most motivational quotes for girlbosses under thirty.

“Ugh, David, what are you doing here? Did you forget you moved in with Patrick?” She was being annoying and mean and he wanted to hug her and never, ever let go.

“I just…” He felt tears pressing behind his eyes. “I wanted to see if you were okay.”

She stood up and narrowed her eyes at him. “I mean, I’m very busy if that’s what you’re asking, between organizing Mom’s soap opera convention appearances and planning your wedding and with the third annual Singles Week coming up, there’s a lot going on in my life right now.” Her hands flopped around as she ticked off each item, her eyes flashing with intelligence and pride.

“I know,” he said, although he didn’t know (he did). “Alexis, don’t ever get on a yacht again, okay?”

She laughed. “Not much chance of that. What are you talking about?”

He stumbled forward then, pulling her into a hug. Her hair smelled lovely and floral, different than it used to but still lovely. David ignored her protesting squeak and kept hugging her, arms wrapped tightly around her thin frame.

“Did you and Patrick have a fight? Because it’s just wedding stress; he loves you and you know he loves you.”

“We didn’t have a fight,” David said, pulling back and taking in Alexis’ perfect face. “I love you.”

“Ew, David,” Alexis said, but she was smiling, and she finally hugged him back. “I love you, too.”

“I miss you,” he said, tears flowing freely now.

Alexis laughed again. “Okay, what is with you right now? You and Patrick live, like, two miles away. Although I know some of the houses he’s been looking at for you two are a little farther.” She brought her hand around and booped him on the nose. “We’re still going to see plenty of each other.”

“I want all of this,” David gasped. “You here, and Mom and Dad, and Stevie, and Patrick, and the store… how do I get all of this? How do I get you back?”

When Alexis spoke, the quality of her voice had changed, almost like another entity was speaking through her. “This is a singular path, David Rose. Not easily won. So easily lost.” She touched his cheek gently. “A sacrifice will be required of you.”

And then he woke up.

“David? You okay?” It was Patrick. Not the Patrick from the dream. The Patrick who was only with him right now because Alexis had died. She wasn’t next door sitting at a desk and being competent; she was in the ground.

“I…” He reached up to his face and wiped away tears. “I had a weird dream.”

“Yeah, me too. Also, I’m freezing.” Patrick got up, and David watched in the predawn light as he put on his pajamas before getting back under the covers and pulling David into his arms. “More nightmares?”

Replaying the dream in his mind, David shook his head. He felt the need to remember all of it, the store and his parents in the café and Alexis in the motel and the fact that Patrick was going to marry him. And Stevie, what had she said? That part was fuzzy. “No, not really a nightmare,” he said, pressing a kiss against Patrick’s temple.

~*~

“This is a much nicer town than Schitt’s Creek,” David commented as they drove through the middle of downtown Oak Grove.

“And not a heterosexual prison?” Patrick asked with a grin.

“Well, it may be that, but it also has a cute little indie bookstore,” David said, pointing. “Ooh, and that looks like a good coffee place; is it good?”

“I guess it’s good. We used to have open mic nights there when I was in high school.”

“Ew, never mind.” The contorted grimace on David’s face made Patrick laugh.

“Listen, I should warn you, I just moved everything into my new apartment a week ago, so things are not fully unpacked yet.”

“Hmm.” David picked an M&M out of the bag of trail mix Patrick had bought at the airport yesterday and popped it in his mouth. “How bad is it?”

“I mean, there’s furniture and the kitchen is usable. But a lot of stuff is still in boxes.”

“Do you have a bed?”

Patrick turned and gave David his best sexy smirk. “Yes, I have a bed.”

“How’s the water pressure in your shower?” David asked.

“Better than at Stevie’s motel, I can assure you.”

“That is a bar so low that I can’t even see it, but I’m sure I’ll manage.” He picked out another M&M. The bag was mostly peanuts and raisins now, Patrick couldn’t help but notice. “I could even… help you unpack.”

“You’d help me unpack?”

“Sure, if it’s something like books. Or maybe clothes, although that would probably just make me sad about your wardrobe. Not… sports paraphernalia.”

“What makes you think I have sports paraphernalia?” Patrick asked, amused.

“The night we met at that bar, didn’t you say you played baseball recreationally?”

Patrick was impressed David remembered that. “I did. I promise not to make you handle my…” He tried and failed to suppress a giggle. “... bat and balls.”

“Okay, no,” David said, digging through the bag for the last of the chocolate. “We’re not doing that.”

Patrick laughed some more.

~*~

Patrick texted his parents as soon as he and David were at the apartment, telling them he was back in town. They knew that he’d gone to New York for David’s sister’s funeral, and Patrick hadn’t forgotten that he’d used the phrase ‘love at first sight’ to them when he told them about David that morning in their kitchen. At the time, he had no reason to expect their lives would ever intersect. Now David was in his apartment, opening boxes and generally making things more of a mess than they’d been when they arrived. But it was fine, it was good. It was just the man that he’d spent two months fixating on after the most revelatory sexual experience of his life, here in his home, scraped raw by grief over his sister and somehow still wanting him for some reason that Patrick couldn’t fathom. It was a lot to wrap his head around, and he didn’t even know how to begin to explain to his parents what was going on. Thus his text to them: back home safely. He’d explain David’s presence to them at some point. Or he wouldn’t: he didn’t know how long David was planning on staying — maybe a few days, maybe a week. Perhaps once David had surfaced from the sadness he was currently submerged in, he’d come to his senses and realize that Patrick held no interest for him. David would leave town, and Patrick’s parents would never be the wiser.

There was a knock on the door.

Or, he thought, faced with them standing on his doorstep, they would meet David, like, right now.

“Mom, Dad, what are you doing here?”

His mother held out the casserole dish she was carrying. “We figured you were still unpacking, and after all that traveling, might want some home-cooked food.”

“Thanks,” he said and then realized he was still blocking the doorway. “Come in, come in,” he said, taking the casserole just as David stood up from the sofa, making his presence obvious.

“Uhhh, David, these are my parents. Mom, Dad, this is David Rose.” He gave David a wincing shrug, trying to communicate that he hadn’t expected them to be here and that he was sorry for any awkwardness that was about to occur.

“Mr. and Mrs. Brewer, hello,” David said, holding out his hand to shake theirs in turn. His voice was softer, like he was trying to be smaller and less obtrusive in this confined space with Patrick’s parents. Like he was trying to be on his best behavior and make a good impression.

His parents smiled and greeted David, but Patrick could see the wheels turning as they processed that this was the man who Patrick had cheated on Rachel with, as they wondered what his presence here meant.

“I’m so sorry about your sister, David,” his mother said, and Patrick was grateful that he had at least explained that much to them before he got on a plane.

“Thank you,” David replied.

“Should I…” Patrick held the casserole up.

“Thirty minutes at 350,” his mother said. Patrick went quickly into the kitchen and set the oven to preheat, trying to return quickly before David was stuck making too much awkward small talk.

“Sorry about us popping in unannounced. Patrick didn’t tell us he had company,” Clint said with a glance back at Patrick. “How long are you in town for, David?”

“Umm, I’m not sure exactly?” he said, ending his statement as if it were a question. He did that a lot and Patrick was already used to it, but having his parents here made him notice everything about David anew: his weird fuzzy sweater and his jeans with rips in the knees and his overly expressive hand gestures. “A few days, I guess, but then I need to get back to my parents.”

“He, uh, wanted to get out of New York for a little while,” Patrick explained.

“It just isn’t the healthiest place for me to be… at the moment,” David said.

“And I want you to stay here as long as you need to,” Patrick said, no longer talking to his parents. He didn’t want to keep David here if he had responsibilities at home, but he also didn’t want him to leave if being away from New York was helping.

David paused, his mouth half-open like he didn’t know how to respond, or didn’t know how to respond in front of Patrick’s parents.

“Anyway, our plans are fluid,” Patrick said, hoping that put an end to the subject, while David turned back to the box he had been unpacking onto the floor, perhaps to give his hands something to do.

Patrick’s parents offered to help with the unpacking, and before Patrick knew it David and his father had teamed up to shelve books and his mother was arranging framed pictures on his desk. By the time they were sitting down to eat dinner, David and Marcy were engaged in a very in depth discussion of the plot and characters on Downton Abbey, a conversation that Patrick and his father could not contribute to. Patrick had never imagined David, or any man he might end up dating, could exist on the same plane of existence as his parents like this, and it unlocked something inside his chest to watch David chatting amiably with his mother, or instructing his father on the “correct” way to organize a book collection.

Strangely, it brought to mind part of the detailed dream he’d had last night. It was evening in this part of the dream, and he’d found himself seated at Café Tropical, two tables pushed together to accommodate everyone: The entire Rose family including Alexis, Stevie, himself, and even the mayor and his wife of all people, laughing and eating dinner together. He’d talked to Johnny Rose about the Blue Jays and he’d talked to Moira about the merits of Jesus Christ Superstar versus Godspell, and all the while David was resting a hand on his shoulder or picking his hand up off the table to thread their fingers together. At one point when Patrick had made a particularly strong point to Moira, David had leaned over and kissed him on the cheek and said to the table, “My fiance doesn’t fully appreciate Andrew Lloyd Webber’s early period, but I guess I’ll marry him anyway.” Everyone had laughed, and when Patrick had turned to him in surprise, had received a smiling kiss on the lips from David.

As he was carrying dishes from the table into the kitchen after they’d eaten, Patrick’s mother followed and put a hand on his arm.

“David’s very nice,” she said softly.

Patrick felt his breath hitch. “Yeah.”

“And very handsome.”

He laughed nervously. If only he’d realized as a teenager that he and his mother both found men attractive, they certainly could have had some interesting conversations. “Yeah.”

“So, is… boyfriends the right term?”

Patrick winced, scratching behind his ear. “We haven’t labeled it. It’s still pretty new.”

“And you’re being… safe?”

“Mom. I’m thirty years old.” He felt his cheeks heat up as images of the previous night flashed in his brain.

“Yes, I know, but if all of this is new to you—”

“Yes, okay, we’re being safe, so please can we never talk about this ever again?” he whispered.

She patted him on the arm, seemingly more amused by his discomfort than anything else. “Okay, dear.”

They reentered the main room. “Patrick, did you know David has sat right behind home plate at Yankee Stadium before?” his dad said.

Patrick raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware you knew what home plate was.”

“Okay, don’t get excited — I was there because I was dating the team’s physical therapist. I didn’t actually watch the game,” David said with distaste.

“That makes sense,” Patrick said with a grin, picking up the remaining dirty plates.

His parents left not long after dinner was cleaned up, and as Patrick closed the apartment door, he watched David go back over to the bookshelf to rearrange a few books that his father must have shelved incorrectly.

“Thanks for helping to keep my parents entertained,” Patrick said.

David shrugged, looking self-conscious. “Your parents are very nice.”

Unable to resist touching him any longer, Patrick approached David and rested his hands on his hips. “So are you.”

David’s face went through a contortion that Patrick was starting to learn was the way he processed compliments. “No one’s ever called me nice before.”

Leaning in, Patrick kissed him. “You’re nice to me.”

David snorted, blinking his eyes a few times. “Mostly in bed.”

Patrick shook his head. “Yes, but also other times.”

“Can I be nice to you in bed, though?” David said before kissing him back.

Smiling against David’s mouth, Patrick nodded before pulling him toward the bedroom. “Yeah.”

Chapter 13

#schitt's creek #schitt's creek ff #david x patrick #david x patrick ff #david x patrick fic #hdwgb fic #my fic

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timelordthirteen · 5 years

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Killing Time 4/?

Detective Weaver/Belle French, Mature

Summary: A Woven Beauty Law & Order-ish AU. Written for Writer’s Month 2019.

Chapter Summary: Flashback: Weaver and Belle get a start on the case.

Notes: Meanwhile, back at the hall of justice... You didn't think I was going to give up the bed sharing goodness that soon did you? ;) Okay, I am in the next chapter, but I need to balance present with past. I might try alternating chapters if that seems reasonable? IDK. I'm winging it here y'all. For the Writer's Month prompt #7: sports.

Warnings: Nothing much for this chapter, just the usual references to the crime. Please see AO3 for complete warnings and tags.

[AO3] Previous: [1] [2] [3]

12 weeks ago...

“Sports? Seriously?”

Weaver rolled his eyes and dropped his head back to look up at the ceiling before he turned around. He pointed at the television mounted on the wall of Belle’s office with the remote that was still in his hand.

“You said ‘no news channels’ because they’re too distracting,” he snapped. “Movies with guns and explosions seemed inappropriate, and if I have to listen to another home renovation show I’ll fucking shoot something. The city only pays for basic cable. That makes our choices the Weather Channel, that will repeat the same useless, and probably wrong, forecast every half hour, or...”

He paused to gesture exaggeratedly at the TV as though he was displaying it on a game show. “Premier league.”

She huffed and stalked to her desk. “Fine, but keep it down so I can think.”

He gave another brief gaze up to the ceiling and then set the remote back where he found it, echoing her with a quiet but annoyed, fine.

“Court today?” he asked, noting the slim, navy pencil skirt and suit jacket she was wearing, with what she always referred to as a ‘standard issue’ white blouse.

Belle sighed audibly and dropped into her desk chair. “Yeah. Branson’s lawyer is filing everything he possibly can, so I spent all morning fielding that, and then I covered a continuance this afternoon for Mal. But starting tomorrow, my caseload is officially down to just this.”

She swept her hand towards the stacks of boxes and the large, blank whiteboard.

Weaver stood by the leather sofa, his hands on his hips as his eyes moved over the veritable mountain of evidence they had to go through. All they’d managed that first day was moving things around in her office and dragging the largest whiteboard they could find up from storage. That had been trickier than anticipated when they discovered it wouldn’t fit in the elevator unless they squeezed themselves into the corners and put it diagonally. Of course that took them a solid fifteen minutes of arguing to achieve.

If they couldn’t even get setup without being at each other's throats, he wasn’t sure how weeks of building a case was going to go.

“Where do you want to start?” he asked finally.

She frowned and sagged a little in her seat. She was already tired and done with today, but they needed to get started sooner rather than later. This case was the kind that could make or break a career, and there were far too many victims and victims families depending on her, a whole city in fact. It was something she kept trying not to think about, but that succeeding in keeping her up half the night.

Stretching her arms up, she bent to one side and then the other, trying to work out the knots in her spine before she answered. “The board?”

He nodded slowly and then moved to the whiteboard. There was a large pack of markers sitting on the ledge and he wasted no time in opening it and dumping them all into his palm before turning and holding them up like playing cards for her to see.

“Pick a color, any color.”

He wagged his eyebrows, and she laughed in spite of herself. “Red.”

Three hours and thirty dollars in Chinese takeout later, they had managed to get through one half of one box, and about a third of the information they had on victim number one.

“Oh come on!” Belle exclaimed, popping up off the sofa and bouncing on her bare feet. She’d ditched her heels almost immediately, and then her stockings about an hour into their work. “I cannot believe it’s going to end in dual red cards and a fucking tie. What the hell?”

Weaver watched her, bemused, and leaned back on the sofa. “I told you not to cheer for bloody Arsenal.”

She shot him a glare and then sat down, reaching for one of the takeout boxes. The chopsticks rattled around inside it, and she tipped it towards her to find it empty. “Did you eat the rest of the noodles?”

He held up his hands, feigning innocence. “Don’t look at me, oh, Queen of the Spicy Peanut Sauce.”

Her feeble swat at his leg only made him snicker. He relaxed against the sofa, and watched her from the side as she stacked the containers and tucked them back in the plastic bag they’d been delivered in. They’d spent so many nights like this, both at work and at home. If he closed his eyes, it could almost be four years ago, when another case introduced them and eventually brought them together, but there were far too many miles between then and now.

Weaver had lost the leather jacket minutes into their work, and rolled up his sleeves. It should have distracted her all that much, but for some reason it did. There was a weird intimacy in seeing someone be comfortable in your presence and your space. She wondered if he thought the same of her, and then pushed it aside, dumping the bag into the trash bin by her desk, and then turning to face the board. She read over what they had posted and arched her back, pressing a hand against her spine in a vain attempt to crack something.

Overall, it was going to be a fairly standard case board, with a picture of the first victim, a woman named Molly Macreedy. She was everything people loved about cases like this; she was young, pretty, and full of hope. Even her name sounded good, with a nice little bit of alliteration that made it easy to stick in people’s minds. It was a sad but true fact about anything like this, it helped when the victim was likable. They’d taped a picture of her at her college graduation under her name, written in red, and listed out all the particulars of the general crime scene, and a brief timeline leading up to when they believed she was killed.

That was the crux of the issue.

Nick Branson had been caught red handed - quite literally as his hands were covered in blood - trying to dump the fifth victim’s body. Later, they found Henry Mills, unconscious and tied up in Nick’s apartment. It was easy from there to tie Branson to the others, but his lack of confession meant they needed to work out the details of each murder on their own. DNA was great, but it wasn’t always enough. People wanted to know the where, when, and how. They wanted the existence of the DNA explained, and, in their minds, why any of it happened in the first place.

As if it was possible to find reason in something so senseless.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Weaver said.

His voice was soft, and Belle blinked, only just realizing that he’d turned off the television. She sighed. “I’m not sure they’re even worth that.”

He ran the back of his up and down her arm, shoulder to elbow, a light soothing motion. She wanted to lean into it, let his knuckles press just a little harder and ease some of the tension she’d been carrying all day. That was something he’d always been willing to do for her, a neck rub here, a foot massage there, purely for the sake of touching her and being close to her.

“There’s just so much,” she said finally. “I don’t know, you know? How to get through all of it.”

Weaver resisted the urge to put his arm around her. He knew she meant more than she was saying. It went beyond how to physically get through the boxes and folders and reports. It was how to survive the whole exercise, how to read about blood, injuries, wounds, and causes of death, and go home at the end of the day not feeling like you’d been through it yourself. It was how to live with it, and how to move on from it when it was all done, if any of them every really did in this job.

He swallowed and let his hand drop to the sofa, a hair’s breadth from Belle’s. “The same way we always do.”

Except that was a bit of a lie. Sure he’d probably finish of most days with a scotch, neat, but it would be at Roni’s instead of home, and there wouldn’t be a second glass with red wine in it for Belle, or the comfort of cool sheets and a warm body. But they would both still understand, still be able to look at each other and know from the dark circles and endless pots of coffee, the toll it was taking on the inside.

“Yeah.”

Her voice was barely above a breath, and then he felt something touch the edge of his hand. He glanced down to see her pinky brushing against his, and he turned his hand over to catch it between his thumb and index finger. She looked down suddenly, and then her eyes flicked up to his face. He tried to hold it back, but his lips twitched in amusement anyway, and she smiled.

“Sorry.”

He shrugged, letting go of her finger, somewhat reluctantly. “Don’t be. You always fidget when you’re thinking.”

“Yeah,” she said again, her head dropping for a second. Then she looked up, her stare fixing on Molly’s picture as she took a deep, steadying breath. This was the most civil they’d been to each other in a while, and also the longest amount of time they’d been in the same room. They didn’t even sign the divorce papers together, just shuttled them back and forth between lawyers.

“We need a plan,” she said.

Weaver pushed to his feet and walked over to the rest of the boxes, still neatly stacked under the window of her office, organized by which ones went with which victim.“Divide and conquer?”

He looked back at her over his shoulder at Belle, with raised eyebrows. “I’ll do the timelines, you do the lab results?”

“And we’ll do the autopsy reports together?”

She sounded almost hopeful, as if looking at the grittiest details together might lessen their blow on the psyche. It wouldn’t, but at least they’d weather it together.

His mouth curved crookedly. “Whatever the lady wants.”

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #woven beauty #woven beauty fic #my woven beauty fic #killing time #fic #i has a banner now

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teutonicfanfics · 5 years

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A short POV Change — Red.

Chapter 13: The Listener

Mexico wasn’t as exciting as he thought it would be. The food was nice, though. The festivities happening around him was like a long long of blur colours spinning endlessly. Why did he come here again? To add some distance from his bro?

Yeah. After the fight that broke out when they returned from the apartment, Red needed time spent apart from the small mansion. Away from doppelgängers and alternate universes.

So he went to the first places he traveled too when they came into this alpha timeline; Mexico.

His shortcuts were a funny thing. You see, it only works if he’s been to the place once and memorizes the surroundings. It was safe to say how surprised Red was when he appeared in the middle of a street filled with colourful banners and lively music playing. The humans around the area had colourful skulls drawn onto their faces as they sang and danced in the middle of a street with spices lingering in the air.

Okay, Mexico was pretty neat, especially during the festival seasons.

Feeling the vibrations of his phone, he gave the man the amount of money before taking out his phone. Flipping it on(since you need /skin/ for touch screens) his eyelights darted around her messages to his older ones. He sighed in relief when she didn’t seem pissed—although the sudden paragraph she sent him was surprising.

Grabbing the bagged tacos, he thanked the male and wondered further into the crowd. Keeping his red eye lights on his phone screen.

The way you viewed his bro was understandable. Even for him, Edge was acting a bit of a bitch to you. Barely giving you the time to talk or defend yourself when he grabbed your SOUL.

A Soul of Sincerity or to be frank; Patience.

What had stunned all of them was how badly damaged it was—but that was a whole story for later.

After asking if he could come by to talk(more like let her do the talking and he could listen) and bring food.

It took awhile for her to reply but when she gave the ‘okay’, he turned his heel and wandered into an alleyway, well aware of the anti-monster gang following him. His grin sharpened as he shortcut above them, watching the males look around like scattered ants. Magic induced saliva built in his mouth as he leaned over—watching the glowing red drop from his tongue and onto the head of the lanky male.

A swear in an unknown language, Red snickered and shortcut back to ebott and to her apartment in her room. When he didn’t see her, he frowned and tried again, this time popping up above the couch.

A short exchange later—he was surprised that she didn’t bother asking why is his going against his brother, not that he’d reply truthfully. Just something vague.

“You were in Mexico?” Came her voice. Small and frail. Red took it in his will to not sneer distastefully. Where was that girl that laughed while cooking?

“Yep.” He replied, sinking deeper into the uncomfortable couch, taking a bite out of his taco.

You didn’t talk for a while, until you did. Your voice was...unnerving. He hated it. He didn’t want that type of tone coming from your mouth.

What could he do at a time like this? He barely got HIS shit together, to top it all off he isn’t even close to being home. . . But this wasn’t about him, it was about you and your woes.

So he moved closer in attempts to soothe you but you moved away. He cringed at the panged feeling in his soul, choosing to ignore it as he listened. Clinging onto your every word with such intensity and fear that you might Fall Down. Human bodies were weird, being all lumpy and meaty.

He flinched when you mentioned the first time the two of you met. How you tried your best to keep a brave façade.

The more you cried, the more he wanted to help you, to tell you that you are fine and that none wasn’t going to hurt or take advantage of your kindness— not while he’s around.

He wondered how much bullshit he could think that you wanted Sans here instead of him.

When you cried about your ‘best friend’s lies, he managed to slip into your blankets, pull you closer and carefully ran his fingers through your hair.

“Yer alright.” He said, comfortingly. “Take yer time, doll.”

When you began to talk again, he had to fight the urge to scowl and growl. The mentions of your friend and your brothers nearly sent him over the edge. What could he do about it? He couldn’t go to your hometown and threaten your brothers dry. Or stop seeing your friend otherwise that’ll be the end of it.

He felt…useless.

When you stopped talking, he had his eye lights trained on you and he felt his magic stop buzzing. Your eyes were devoid of any emotion, your shoulders were tight and you looked as if you seen a ghost of your ancestors.

“Y/n.” He called, softly shaking your shoulders as your eyes began to drip with tears once more. Whatever you were picturing—he wanted it gone.

Lifting your chin, he attempted to smile. “Thas a lotta shit ya carrying. M’glad ya trust me enough ta talk ‘bout it.”

Truly, he did. Even if your feelings were calling for Sans, he felt almost content with masking your actual emotions with his magic, pushing away the negativity and giving you courage for your patience.

When you managed to fall asleep, slowly slipped from your hold, wrapping you up much like how he nested your earlier, and shortcut back to the house of doppelgängers.

Muffet..Muffet..

There were three types in this universe. One dragged from his timeline and another dragged from…Stretch’s.

The ‘classic’ Muffet wasn’t as greedy and a overly-selling bitch like his universe’s was, so it was a fact that you might have went for Stretch’s Muffet with her fake ass motherly vibe.

He wanted to gag, but he had an idea how to get a good time in this fairytale and sunshine of a fucking timeline.

He just needed some time.

#Six Skeletons and The Waitress #Underfell Sans #Red #POV Change

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sirkkasnow · 5 years

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06 Sleep With One Eye Open

Ao3 link

07/12/13-07/13/13 Friday - Saturday

There was no rest whatsoever, much less for the wicked, that night.

“Ford. For cryin’ out loud. I feel fine. She feels fine. Just let us go to sleep.” Stan nudged away the glass of water in front of him, chin propped in a cupped hand, supported in turn by the elbow propped on the kitchen table. He and Clary had changed into dry clothes and managed to get down a sandwich apiece, accompanied by fanciful flower-cut carrot slices, before Ford started hovering over them both like a broody hen.

“He’s got a point.” Clary was nursing her own glass of water - caffeine was forbidden for the time being. “There was a shockwave. We might be concussed. I don’t feel concussed, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t sustain some injury.”

“I’ve started analyzing that sample vial you brought, Stanley, and the dust has got at least a minor soporific component. You’re going to have to stay up all night for observation.” Both Stan and Clary groaned in protest, her head dipping to rest on her forearm.

“Can’t you wake us up every two hours?” she pleaded.

“I should take you to the hospital.” More groans. “My upstairs study isn’t too cluttered. We’ll set you two up on the couch, I’ll keep an eye on you for the night, and I can probably allow each of you to nap for an hour or so at a time. That’s the best I can do.”

“You’re not gonna give either of us a moment’s peace otherwise, are you.”

“No.” Ford folded his arms and frowned down at them both. “Go on, go get pillows. You can finish giving me the details about your encounter today.”

Clary shot Stan a fleeting, resigned smile, swallowed a long gulp of water and pushed back from the table. “See you in a few minutes.”

They reconvened at the study, the space cluttered as ever if less dusty. Clary rubbed her eyes as she looked around, tossing pillows and blankets on the couch and taking an armload of books off Ford’s hands. “How’s this going to work?”

“Short naps. I’ll wake you up every hour or so to check the pupils and ask some of the usual questions. Coherence checks, really.”

“Yeah, we might as well stay as awake as we can.” Stan finished locking in the legs of a card table in one corner and hauled up three mismatched chairs, then plunked a battery lantern in the middle. “Sixer, can she crash for a while? She did all the hard work out there today.”

“You’re no lightweight, Stan, but you are the one who got a snootful of glitter.”

“I did not. Just a little dusty.”

Clary dropped the books off at the foot of the filing cabinet, dragged a chair out with her heel and settled into it with a sigh. “Serious question, you two.” She reached out to flick on the lantern, getting little more out of it than a wan circle of pale yellow light on the table’s surface. “Are we going to talk about the fact that we were running for our lives from champagne bubbles of explosive death this afternoon?”

An awkward silence hung on the air. She blinked, sleepy and implacable, at Stan and then at Ford.

“I’m fairly sure it wouldn’t have killed you,” Ford said at length, squaring up a stack of books that Stan knew for certain had been crooked for years. “I’ll know better when I head out tomorrow to document the aftermath. Turned you into shambling crystalline abominations, maybe.” He paused, lifting his head with a faint frown. “Perhaps we should do the cinnamon-and-formaldehyde treatment. Just in case.”

“No,” said Clary and Stan in unison.

“It’s just a thought.”

Stan rummaged a deck of cards out of a drawer. “Like I said. Gravity Falls is weird. S’what got him out here in the first place.” He nodded to Ford as he dropped into the chair opposite Clary and began to absentmindedly shuffle. “If this changes things, offer still stands, we’ll rent you somethin’ to get you to Portland or whatever.” He meant it in all sincerity but let the cards snap together with a tiny bit more vehemence on the next pass. “If you’re gonna stay, though, stayin’ with us is the safest option, no doubt.”

She smiled a little, watching his hands. “Are you warning me that things could get even weirder?”

“‘Course not. Simply statin’ the facts.”

For a little while the soft slap-and-clatter of the deck was the only sound.

“I think,” Clary finally said, “that I’m still all right with staying until the car’s fixed. I want to be included as you’re analyzing that stuff, Ford. And if there’s anything else I ought to know about, I expect to be in the loop.”

“You’re not going to dismiss all of this as hallucinations from heat exhaustion or the like, then?” Ford kept his tone level, but Stan could hear the hopeful note in it.

She laid a hand over her brow and peeked up at Ford through splayed fingers. “I believe in evidence. I’m not so stubborn that I can’t accept what I’ve personally experienced. And I promise you, I was coherent through all of that mayhem.”

A quick, pleased smile plucked at a corner of Ford’s mouth. “Fair enough.” He took the third chair, setting down a notebook, a penlight, one of his favorite pens and Clary’s action camera. “If you’re not going to sleep right away, let’s review your afternoon. I know what your routes looked like, so it won’t be hard to track down the sites….”

Stan dealt himself a hand of solitaire and mostly listened, interjecting now and then when he could clarify a point. Ford had always been a thorough interrogator and Clary was a good witness, offering a clear timeline and careful descriptions which Ford kept cross-checking against her shaky video.

She was yawning more than she was talking by the time he was done. “Eyes,” said Ford, and Clary winced as he checked each pupil. “Sleep. I’ll get you up for another check in an hour or two.”

“Yes, Doctor Pines.” She shuffled over to the couch and stretched out under a blanket. Within two minutes her breathing went deep and even. Ford turned to Stan with bright, undimmed interest, and he gathered up the cards with a sigh.

“Okay, go on, pick my brain, but you’ve already got most of it.”

He lost track of time almost immediately once Ford let him get a quick snooze. The wee hours dragged by with alternating moments of consciousness and too-brief sleep interrupted by stupid questions.

“What’s the capital of South Dakota?” Ford asked somewhere around three-thirty.

Stan squinted up at Ford, rubbing at watering eyes. “Who cares?”

“I’ll take that as a correct answer.” One thumb tilted over towards the couch, where Clary was down for another shift. Ford’s voice lowered. “What’s your take on her?”

That was a more interesting question. Stan leaned back in his chair enough to make it creak. “What d’you mean? She’s sharp, sure, she’s been better company than I thought she’d be.”

“She didn’t panic today, and she’s taking the local weirdness in stride. Which of course might mean she’s a federal agent.”

Stan shook his head fractionally. “Gettin’ your magnet gun to malfunction at just the right moment would’ve been a neat trick. No, there’s a couple things she doesn’t wanna talk about, but not that.” He glanced over to Clary. “She’s still wearin’ her neckerchief.”

“I’m wearing turtlenecks in July. I’m sure she has her reasons. In any event, she’s quite adaptable, and we could use a lawyer - “

“No, no, no - “ Stan flapped a hand at Ford in frustration, struggling to keep his voice down. “What in the hell do we need a lawyer for?”

“You’re still legally dead, Stanley. I wouldn’t mind being able to fly again.”

“She’s a tax specialist!”

“She’s an experienced attorney, and don’t you think trustworthiness should trump everything else?” Stan glared. Ford sat back, fingertips tapping in sequence along the penlight’s barrel. “We’re not going to be out on that boat forever, you know.”

That shut him up, as Ford knew perfectly well it would. Stan tipped his tired head back and gnawed on his lower lip for a while. “When did the world get so damn small?” he muttered, a question that neither of them needed or much wanted an answer for.

Eventually Ford rose, nudging Clary awake with a careful hand on her shoulder to run her through another series of questions. “Pierre or Bismarck,” she murmured blearily, “I can’t remember which. What time is it?”

There were three clocks in immediate eyeshot, all of which read something different. Ford checked his watch. “Five fifteen.”

“Almost morning. Fantastic.” A faint glimmer of pre-dawn light was beginning to tint the sky, the room’s multicolored window marginally less dead-black than it had been. Clary pushed herself upright with a groan and shambled over to the card table. “Deal something out, Stan, we might as well stay up until breakfast.”

“I should keep checking on you until at least noon after that, but I can let you get a few hours in a row. You both seem to be fine.” Ford made himself at home in the third chair. Stan squared the deck, shuffled a couple of times, fished out the two of diamonds and dealt the rest out in three piles.

Stan felt himself fidgeting after two quick and uneventful hands. Sheer fatigue was wearing down his usually uncrackable poker face. The other two were unreadable anyway as the room slowly filled with the faint light of early morning, the lantern’s dim circle overwhelmed until Ford shut it off. Clary scooped up the cards of the current trick and stifled yet another yawn with the back of her hand. “At this rate none of us are gonna manage to come out ahead.”

“Well, we’re more or less evenly matched.” Ford set his fanned cards facedown, checked his watch again and jotted a note. “Eyes, Clary.”

She sighed and obligingly let Ford take her chin in his fingertips, angling her head so he could check each pupil with his penlight. “Of course we’re evenly matched. All three of us have been counting cards.”

Stan snorted in disbelief and slapped his cards on the table. Ford’s laugh was lower and rustier than usual - even he was starting to wear down. “You too? Really, Clary? Really? I expect that kinda crap from my own brother!”

“I majored in math, man, I specialized in statistics and data analysis. Of course I’m counting cards. You’re the one hellbent on cheating at hearts.”

They bickered for most of another hour as the stained glass went translucent and jewel-bright. Stan tried out a half dozen variations, trying to find some way to outfox the others, but anything they couldn’t count cards on he couldn’t count cards on, and he didn’t have the sleeves to hide anything. Clary kicked him in the shin after one particularly egregious attempt, the blow softened by her floppy sock and her low husky laughter. She left her foot resting against his slippered one which was all right he supposed.

Stan was showing off a couple of the simpler card-cutting tricks when the doorknob rattled, then turned, the door creaking open to reveal a startled Dipper and Mabel. All five stared at each other in confused silence.

Mabel clapped both hands to her face. “You had a slumber party and you didn’t tell us?!”

“Not quite a slumber party, I had to make sure they were both all right - “ Ford clambered to his feet, pink with embarrassment. Mabel pointed in accusation at the rumpled blankets and pillows on the couch.

“You three were up all night! Come on, Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford, you have to let me host one now.”

That set off a quiet but intense argument. Mabel was doing a fine job of mustering a logical case in favor. Clary set down her cards, rubbed her eyes and curled a tired smile for Dipper at the doorway. “Breakfast?” She nudged Stan’s foot with a toe. “Make me a couple of pancakes, would you? I think I’ve earned those.”

“Deal, kid. Think we both have.”

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“Are we going to talk about the explosions?” Clary looks tired, but determined.

I’m pretty sure we were both seeing things.

Methane. It’s always methane.

Gravity Falls really is that weird.

#Gravity Falls #gfdatingsim #DDtMMW #Swooning Over Stans #Stanley Pines #OClicious #fanfic

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lovetheangelshadow · 5 years

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N'Pressions: How to Train Your Dragon 3

Considering this year is like 80% remakes or sequels (maybe 90% but Nocty can’t math) there are very few films falling into that category that I have been genuinely excited for. And unfortunately Toy Story and Frozen aren’t high on my list of must see movies mostly because I feel that Toy Story should have stayed with the shorts and specials while Frozen is just…it’s okay but not really something that has stuck to me. Admittedly DreamWorks has always kind of a mixed roster of films for both good and ill. I do appreciate that they do try to toy outside the box as opposed to Disney and Pixar that have kinda felt safe over the last decade even if DW bombs it. The Dragons series has often been one of the most beautiful look and epic franchises of the studio even if it often feels like its Shrek who’s the face and Dragons (and Panda to an extent) are the little brothers that pull more work but aren’t really the standard the studio reaches for (looking at YOU Bee Movie).

Anyway Hidden World is the final film of the Dragons trilogy and is a mostly satisfying conclusion. I am not saying like there is giant Green Death sized plotholes or anything, but the journey felt like there could have…should have been more to it. Anyway, the plot is that Hiccup is now chief and is trying to balance responsibility between being the leader and saving dragons from hunters and enslavers. Of course his idealistic concept of humans and dragons living together in harmony is hitting snags since the village is getting overcrowded with dragons and it making them a bigger target. I don’t fault Hiccup too much for this as he wants to do what is right between the two races and kind of brushes off legit concerns from others. As if on cue, dragon hunters hire a top notch mercenary named Grimmel who has a hate for Nightfuries. And I might as well get this out of the way. There are quite a few comparisons at least for me between Dragons 3 and King Fu Panda 3. Both protagonists have to learn what it means to be a leader/chief/teacher, have side characters who don’t really serve the plot a whole lot, and kinda forgettable villains that had a lot of potential to stand out but don’t. And share a connection to someone the protagonist cared about but is now dead. Don’t get me wrong, I get what they were trying to go for-essentially a Hiccup who killed the Nightfury without hesitating and while isn’t physically strong like the other Vikings has the strategic knowledge and tool arsenal to get the job done. Basically an Alternate Timeline Hiccup in a way that Drago was a Hiccup who used force and intimidation instead of empathy and compassion to train dragons. And that is not a bad concept to work with. Except he was largely forgettable for me. Heck it’s been years but I will remember Alvin the Outcast, Dagur, and Vigo. That is not to say that Grimmel doesn’t push Hiccup to his limits physically and emotionally; hell when he has Toothless entrapped Hiccup’s self-worth practically goes off the New Berk cliff, but I actually had to look him up to remember his name.

And there is the side crew of other dragon riders. Again it’s a mixed bag. The best in the bunch is definitely Astrid who can both kick tail and be Hiccup’s emotional support when she feels she needs to. I’ve mentioned this before with my Trolls series review, but I appreciate how they’ve both built up and complement the relationship between these two. Astrid is the warrior who sometimes needs to stir up Hiccup into action or confidence and Hiccup is the strategist who will pull Astrid back when he feels like she’s going too far. Admittedly I rolled my eyes at the romance in the first film (then again same for Trolls), they have actually did go and show why these two are meant for each others and is handled a lot better than Panda or…She-Ra. Yeah sorry DreamWorks, I keep taking that shot at you, but only because I know you’re capable of doing better. The others…I sweat to Nox I don’t know why they are here. At least in the 2nd movie they were off on a separate mission to track down the dragon hunters while Hiccup was investigating the mysterious ice spewing beast and had their shining moments; but here…not so much. And what the Nox is with Snoutlout hitting on Hiccup’s mom? Who thought that was endearing or funny? Yes, Snotlout was always an arrogant asshole with daddy issues, let’s face it, but at least he was tolerable. Even the twins who’ve had funny moments in the series annoyed me. And then Fishlegs, don’t get the baby gag either. Also, as I’ve said before, they don’t really acknowledge the series. Heck you didn’t necessarily need to make new charqacter models. Maybe have Hiccup and the team receive a letter or something from Dagur or Heather saying they were attacked and just barely escaped and then have Grimmel strike Hiccup’s home to prove a point, but still. I get that now everyone necessaily had access to Nickelodeon or Netflix, but you could like say release the series on DVD when you put this out for Home Video? No? For something big on continuity, that was kind of miffing. And don’t worry, Digimon Tri, I WILL get to you someday. Don’t think I will ignore that slight.

But let us get back to positives. If there is one thing that DreamWorks has had a strength in with one or two exceptions, it’s the animation. I love the varied designs of the dragons, the dragon armor, and the new locations. Granted we really don’t see much of the Hidden World and it doesn’t really serve much to the plot otherwise being a catch all ending with Hiccup and Toothless going their separate ways to be the leaders their tribes need. Speaking of Toothless the dialogue-less interactions between him and Bright Fury are totes adorable and even sweeter than Wall-E and EVA. Also even if death, its neat to see how much of an influence Stoik had on Hiccup. Maybe I am reading too much into this but in the flashback when Stoik is talking about the Hidden World and how he wants to find it and seal it up so humans and dragons don’t have to fight anymore, suggests that maybe he took his wife’s ideals to heart after he saw her being snatched up by Cloudchaser that he wanted to end things a bit more passively compared to the first film where he wanted to find the dragon nest and raze it to the ground. Makes you wonder that over time, constant disappointment and death made his hopes of fulfilling some aspect of his wife’s wishes just fizzed out. Hell it would have been interesting to see Grimmel mock Hiccup saying Stoik thought like Hiccup did once and look where it got him. That might have given some more credence to his character or hell have some desire of twisted vengeance against Hiccup and Toothless.

Overall the film is still an enjoyable conclusive adventure even if it doesn’t end things with a bang and pulls a Bye Bye Butterfree on us (yes I cried!). Still I am pretty satisfied with how things ended and pray to Nox they don’t milk this like a certain other franchise. I know about Kung Fu Panda: Paws of Awesomeness but at least the premise of that actually makes sense for a continuation and no I am not paying for an amazon prime video service. I am still having trouble with Crunchyroll for Nox sake. That and there really isn’t much forward you could go with the Dragons franchise. Maybe a spin off with other characters as the focus with Hiccup and team cameoing? Hey I’d be down for that. But as it is, I’d be cool with it if they left it alone. I’m Noctina Noir and I should go and find a way to fit my dragon toy because I accidentally broke it.

#how to train your dragon 3 #n'pressions #how to train your dragon

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