#my one big gripe is Beard's reason for staying

[youngpettyqueen]

here's how Roy/Keeley/Jamie can still win

[kalee60]

I wish you would write a fic where stucky are mad at each other for some reason but get forced into the same tiny escape pod and spend a very interesting hour pressed so tight together on their way back to the surface...

Not going to lie Bec - when I first saw this prompt, my mind immediately went one way, and one way only - and I'm pretty sure you just played me like a fiddle with this idea of yours and knew exactly what I'd write.

So please take this humble offering, you are literally my greatest support and I would not be here without you gorgeous ❤️ my adoration for you is endless for our unique and special bond x

The fic is just over 4k and also on ao3 here (with all tags necessary) if you prefer to read there instead, it'll be part of my stucky bingo fills - Truth or Dare and rated M for mild sexual content 😉

If you'd like a fic - here's the post - I wish you'd write a fic... (It might take me a little bit to write - but I will get there!)

"Are you freaking kidding me right now Rogers?" Bucky shouted as he tried to wrest control of the tiny submarine, or whatever the fucking contraption Stark had purpose built for underwater expeditions, from his meathead best friend who never had a plan. "What the hell was that?"

Steve glared over at Bucky, who scowled back. "I had it under control."

"Under control, my ass. You ran us into a goddamn rock, a rock so sharp we now have a leak - and guess what? We just happen to be about three miles under the sea!"

"I - " Steve started to say then stopped abruptly to slam at the controls before him in the dim lighting, trying to unwedge the small vessel off the rock.

"Don't! Fuck Steve, leave it, don't get us off the rock - we'll tear apart if you do." The sharp edge of panic amidst his anger was clear.

"I know what I'm doing, Buck." Steve ground out.

The panic immediately disappeared leaving only ire behind, "I highly doubt that by looking at the trouble you got us into. I thought partnering up with Sam was a pain in the ass for those few months, but I'd somehow forgotten what you were like."

Bucky heard Steve grinding his teeth, and satisfaction filled him that Steve was at least angry at their hopeless situation, one he was solely to blame for.

They’d been tasked to go to the Raft - one of the inmates had managed to escape - Namor, and although Bucky thought it was way out of their scope of skills to be chasing a literal being that came from the ocean, who had super strength and a huge advantage by, well, being able to breathe underwater, the Avengers assembled and it was left to Cap, no, Nomad and Bucky to sort it out.

At first, the mission was fine and on track, they were given the craft from Stark, Steve assuring both Bucky and the cocky self-appointed head Avenger, that he'd used it many times over on missions, and away they went. Bucky had realised after an hour at sea as they dove deeper and deeper, Bucky wide-eyed at all the sealife and fish that swam into the lights from the craft, that Steve looked a little peaky, a little sweaty. Apparently, after some hard prodding, Steve admitted he'd only taken it out for a few runs in the East River and had never been in the ocean with it.

Bucky was fuming.

He became even angrier when they found Namor, and Steve without any hesitation hit a button that harpooned a weapon from the undercarriage, missing the man completely and hitching it on a nearby rock, careening them towards it. Bucky was certain he saw a smirk and a laugh from their quarry as he swam off - uncaptured. Free.

It was, in fact - quite humiliating for two usually competent supersoldiers.

So now they were fixed tightly onto a jutting rock bed, water leaking slowly into the vessel and Steve was acting like a massive stubborn child about their situation. Especially when they realised they couldn’t call for assistance - they were too deep for a signal.

As a starfish floated by and suckered itself to the window, making a home there, Bucky was starting to wonder if they'd get out of the situation in one piece. They may have the serum running through their veins, but he was certain drowning was still on the scope of things that could kill them. He glanced at Steve who was still pressing buttons - that and along with an irate best friend who had a penchant for knives.

The urge to strangle Steve and his handsomely stubborn face rose with each and every breath, and he couldn't fathom why he was in love with such an imbecile. Bucky, glad that Steve wasn’t aware of where his feelings lay, not wanting to openly tell such an idiot he loved him; though Bucky hadn’t really had an opportunity to approach Steve about it, unsure if he ever would find the courage to bring it up.

Plus right then... right in that moment as they floated and bobbed in the undercurrent while beady eyed fish approached them curiously, Bucky was livid and was certain that even if Steve turned to him to profess his undying love - Bucky would punch him in the face.

“What do you propose we do then smarty pants?”

Bucky’s mouth formed a tight line at the old taunt.

“I suggest we get into the escape pod and head for the surface.”

“What? And give up?”

“Give up Steve? Of course we give up. What the fuck do you think we can do?” Bucky exclaimed, as Steve grumbled into the small space. “For a brilliant strategist you sure are an absolute ninny sometimes.”

“A ninny?” Steve burst out in horrified disbelief.

Bucky felt his lip twitch and almost laughed at Steve’s expression and the absurdity of their situation that by calling Steve a ninny, is what pissed him off the most.

“The only way we can do anything of any use now, is if Namor comes back and surrenders. And I don’t think he’s about to do that, considering he sped off laughing when you marooned us on this damn rock. One I might add that has more strength and the ability to stay calm and think more rationally than you.”

“Are you seriously comparing me to a rock?”

“If the Cap fits.”

“Really?” Steve deadpanned at Bucky’s admittedly terrible attempt at humour.

And before Bucky could say anything further, potentially offer a simple truce, a large shadow loomed above them and Bucky was instantly caught in the beauty and grace of the huge marine animal swimming overhead, close enough Bucky could reach out and touch if there wasn’t glass between them. It looked to be a shark of some type and Bucky was captivated by the smooth skin, the sheer mass and the tail that flicked; until that same large tail hit the vessel on one of it’s sweeps, dislodging it from the rock.

With a triumphant yell, Steve pushed on the accelerator as Bucky yelled at him to stop, and suddenly the whole craft shook and groaned, creaking as the very structure started to unhinge.

“Jesus fuck, Steve. Get in the escape pod now!”

Steve for the first time since they entered the vessel listened to Bucky, and they both jumped up and scrambled for the pods that were situated behind their seats, opening the escape hatches - only to find one empty, and the other thankfully still in place.

“Shit, Tony.” Bucky swore. “Don’t you know about the Titanic? Always have enough damn life rafts. Fuck.”

“We can fit.” Steve said matter of fact and opened the hatch door, just as the thick glass from the front of the craft splintered, water spurting through and a loud cracking filled the space. Bucky’s heart thumped hard and fast at the danger they were in, his Soldier training all but useless in the face of this new terror.

Bucky pushed Steve, who yelped at being manhandled into the small space, and Bucky jumped right in, landing on top of Steve, their faces only inches apart - and that face did not look happy.

They had just enough room for Steve to hit the big red button that closed the pod, and an automated voice immediately filled the area.

“Releasing in three, two - one.” 

The voice went silent as the capsule whooshed out of the craft, and Bucky was on the correct side to see through the glass over Steve’s shoulder, the lights of the vessel flickering as it tore apart from the pressure of the water. Bucky let out a shaky breath that they’d escaped in time.

“Calculating your trajectory and location,” the voice began, then went silent for a few seconds, “you will breach the surface in just under two hours.”

“Two hours.” Bucky griped and wiggled, Steve hissing for him to ‘quit it’. The voice continued on in its modulated voice.

“Due to your depth, the emergency pod has been slowed to ensure you rise at the correct rate so you do not suffer any complications.”

“Complications,” Bucky said under his breath, knowing with the serum it was unlikely they’d get sick. “I’ve got a big bearded one right in front of me. I think that’s complicated enough - just get us to the surface quickly.”

The voice droned on about protocols and safety features for a few minutes and mentioned when it came into range it would send a distress call to FRIDAY for assistance. Finally some good news, because all Bucky could think about was the fact the enormous shark was not in sight. He hoped it was long gone.

“Can you move your damn leg?" Steve hissed, shaking Bucky from his contemplation of why he insisted on watching Jaws a few weeks earlier.

But it was the tone Steve used that irked Bucky further, and ever helpful, he moved his leg back and forth like a petulant kid. “That enough movement for you?”

“Buck, your damn knife is digging into my thigh. Actually why in the hell are you wearing it on an underwater mission in the first place?”

“Why did you bring your shield?” Bucky countered, not wanting to tell Steve about the other seven knives in his pants.

“That’s not really comparable.”

“It is.” Bucky replied sullenly, knowing it wasn’t at all. 

Steve sighed heavily, and they spent a good fifteen minutes without conversing, not even daring to look at the other in the soft green-tinged light from the control panel where Bucky could read their glacially paced progress as they headed for the surface. They were still so far down.

“Truth or dare? Steve suddenly asked, breaking the awkward silence.

“Are you for real? Now?” Bucky asked incredulously. “Look, I know that game worked when we were kids - but read the damn room, well, pod.”

Steve didn’t respond as the charged air between them rose in silent intensity.

“Truth.” Bucky finally bit out after a long minute.

“Why did you bring knives on an underwater mission?”

“Jesus Christ, you don’t let up, do you? Why am I even surprised, it’s Steven Grant Rogers asking. Because Steve, I take them everywhere. You know this. I might have had to stab some seaweed for being rude to your delicate sensibilities or something. And don't you dare try and say they haven’t gotten us out of tough spots before.”

Steve harrumphed, “I’m hardly delicate.”

“Sure thing.”

They fell silent again, until Bucky gave in and sighed heavily. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Why did you lie and say you knew how to drive the boat?”

“Bucky, you don’t drive a boat.”

“Yeah, well you proved that without a doubt.”

Steve tensed up, Bucky experiencing Steve’s muscles bunching together against his body from being so close, he swallowed heavily. 

“I thought I had it handled. How difficult could it be?”

“Steve…” Bucky started, stopped then sighed, “Steve, you need to actually be truthful with me, to the Avengers, especially if you need help. You don’t have to prove that you have it together all the time, every time. That’s what I’m for.”

“So you’re saying you could have piloted the boat?”

“Is piloted correct? But in answer - no, I couldn’t have. So we would have found a better way.” 

“Buck, he’s an underwater being, what else were we going to do but try and follow him down here?”

Bucky remained quiet thinking over the options. When the call went out, only Steve and he were available for the mission, so in a way Steve was correct, but he wasn’t going to admit that.

Steve moved suddenly in an unintentional grind, and a spark flew down Bucky’s spine, shit, they were close, really close, and through his initial fear and anger, Bucky hadn’t really thought about the situation he’d inadvertently put himself in. Pressed up against Steve’s body in a way he’d never been before.

Oh shit…

“Truth or dare,” Steve asked, breaking Bucky’s thoughts on the bulge he could feel just slightly higher than his own.

“Truth,” Bucky gritted out, looking over Steve’s shoulder at the murky water surrounding them. “It’s not like we can do any dares down here.”

Steve paused for a moment, looking directly at Bucky, and Bucky finally gave in and glanced his way, holding Steve’s gaze, and knew immediately that he shouldn't have. Steve’s eyes had taken on a greenish-blue tinge, making them pop and they softened at the edges once Bucky was in their snare. Bucky let out a long exhale. He hated when they fought - but he was still annoyed that Steve hadn't listened or been truthful.

“Are you dating anyone?”

Bucky jerked in surprise, wincing straight away, as rubbing up against Steve wasn’t going to help him remain impassive. “What kind of question is that?”

“A simple one I would have thought,” Steve replied curtly, and Bucky saw the slight tick in Steve’s cheek, and he caught his breath. For some reason Steve was invested in his answer, but why? Could it mean..?

“We live together Steve. You know I’m not.”

“Not even Darcy,” Steve countered.

Unable to stop it from bubbling up, Bucky started to laugh loud and heartily before realising that the motion was doing nothing to stop the friction between them, and Bucky started to worry that the knives on his person weren't the only hard thing Steve could feel pressed up against him.

When he’d composed himself, he saw that Steve had tilted his chin up proudly, and Bucky knew he’d hurt his feelings.

“Uh, that’s a negative. Darcy and I are not dating, she’s like Becca. You know - a little sister, an annoying one too, and yeah I love her, but not in the way you think. To be honest I’d like to date…”

Bucky trailed off, realising he was about to give too much away.

“You’d like to date?” Steve coaxed, eyes riveted on Bucky as he looked slightly down at him, and Bucky wasn't sure he'd ever really get used to the change in Steve's physique. Having to look up to his once small friend, shoulders wide enough he was a literal tank.

“Tall, blonde people,” he admitted, face immediately heating; not meaning to let that particular parcel of words out.

“Oh.” Steve replied, face slack and wondering as he stared at him, the gravity in his eyes not letting Bucky look elsewhere. So Bucky shut his eyes to escape, berating himself for being an obvious fool.

“Dare,” Steve husked.

Bucky snapped his eyes open to find Steve unblinking, attention directly on him, and there was something lurking behind his gaze, something dark and delicious, Bucky uncertain if what he saw was real or not. So he thought about his response carefully before answering.

“Okay, Stevie,” and Steve inhaled sharply through his nose at the nickname, Bucky pleased at the response. “I bet you can’t get your hands to the control panel to turn on the exterior floodlight so we can see the fishes.”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “You want to see the fishes?”

Bucky nodded slowly, having a gut feel Steve already saw through his game, considering where Steve’s hands were positioned in the first place. Between their bodies.

Steve wriggled his fingers, and a live wire burned through the very structure of Bucky’s cells, remaking them into something different, something primal as Steve continued to move and pushed his hand between them towards the panel, inadvertently pressing hard up against the front of Bucky’s pants, right over his dick in the process. A dick that was suddenly much more interested in their predicament. 

Bucky might have made an error in judgement as he slipped out a strangled gasp.

Steve’s face lit up in a grin at Bucky’s unintentional response, deliberately mimicking the same movement again.

Bucky’s eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the touch through his tac pants, wishing for no obstructions between them, and before he could lose himself completely in the sensations, Steve's hand pulled free to touch the control panel, light suddenly flooding outwards. Tufts of seaweed and darting fish fled past the glass as they continued to slowly climb for the surface. 

And before he knew what he was saying, Bucky was pressing his hips the scant inch forward into Steve's body and whispered, "I dare you to do that again."

The ragged and shaky exhale from Steve was gratifying in its sheer emotion, and the 'Buck' that tore from his throat made Bucky look up. The moment his eyes met Steve's he was gone.

"Can I?" Steve asked, and Bucky could do no more than nod as Steve's lips came crashing down on his.

It was the kiss Bucky had been waiting a lifetime for, and he couldn't believe as Steve's tongue slipped in between his lips, a low deep growl erupting unbidden in his throat, that the catalyst was a failed mission where they were stuck together angry in a cylindrical tube in the middle of the ocean.

Steve's hand forced itself back between their bodies, and Bucky moaned as Steve made the best of the small space, rubbing over and over until Bucky grew thick and hard in his pants, all while Steve kissed the very breath from his body. Bucky was stunned that Steve was an exceptional kisser, partly impressed and partly jealous at the realisation that he'd had experience, more than Bucky first thought.

"Jesus Buck, you taste so good."

"Yeah?" Bucky husked back, leaning up as far as he was able, capturing Steve's lips again. What started as chaste, soon became hungry and insistent and Bucky tried to move his hands, but there was no room for two sets between them, Steve’s all that could fit; so Bucky let Steve take control, do what he wanted. And somehow, without even speaking about it, Steve gave Bucky exactly what he needed, what he craved. And if Steve wanted, Bucky would spend his lifetime taking care of Steve in return.

"Your fucking knife," Steve husked into his cheek as he pulled away, lips wet and thoroughly kissed. It was a spaced out look Bucky wanted to see more often.

"That's not a knife," Bucky sassed back.

"Well unless you're extraordinary and have two dicks, then yes, I think the one pressing just above my knee is a knife."

Bucky tried to adjust his stance to lessen the pressure from the weapon, and at Steve's wince, he knew he'd not managed to do it.

"Well to be fair, I wasn't expecting to end up in this predicament."

"Predicament?" Steve asked as his fingers pressed against Bucky's groin again, pushing and sliding to create extra friction.

"Oh shit," Bucky breathed, hating and loving the knowing smirk on Steve's face. "Maybe I've been wanting this for over a hundred years and you know, since nothing has ever happened before, how was I to know that being trapped in an escape pod, while seething in anger would do it for you?"

Steve looked blankly at Bucky, mouth open, shock clearly written over his face. "Over a hundred years?"

Bucky realised he had no filter when Steve had a hand on his dick, and flushed at the long kept secret, now a confession, but kept going, confirming it. He was all in by that stage.

"Give or take a year."

"Buck, why the hell didn't you say anything? I've been waiting since…"

Steve trailed off and Bucky couldn't help it.

"Since..?"

"I was sixteen."

"Fuck," Bucky surged forward, kissing the breath from Steve, and Steve's hand movements became more insistant. Suddenly Bucky felt the zip of his pants loosen and he couldn’t stop the wanton moan from escaping and he wriggled his hips in anticipation. Between one breath and the next Steve had somehow, miraculously snaked his hand into Bucky's pants, and now, now, there was only a layer of thin underwear between them.

Why the hell hadn't he gone commando?

"God, Buck, you feel amazing - knew you would.” Steve said as he looked into Bucky’s eyes while stroking him, and the sheer power behind his gaze pushed all of Bucky’s buttons. “Want to get my mouth on you."

Bucky gasped, vibrating at the imagery and Steve chuckled, nipping at Bucky's lips, kissing him again and again and it hit Bucky that Steve was able to feel every single quiver and sharp intake of breath he made. He was no longer able to hide his reactions, even if his face gave nothing away - Steve was so close that all of Bucky's tells were like a neon sign emblazoned above his head. Steve had him at his mercy.

And Bucky loved it.

"I want that," Bucky whispered back, "want your mouth everywhere. Want my mouth all over you too pal, I can't wait to get you naked."

"You're too much," Steve ground out and suddenly Bucky was being kissed deeply, thoroughly and he lost all concept of time and space. Steve's fingers gripped his dick, squeezing and making short jerky motions, it wasn't the greatest angle, and Steve didn't have full motion - but it was perfect. Bucky was so turned on, his dick weeping into his underwear, and he knew that if Steve kept going, kept kissing him, touching him, he was going to come in his pants like he'd done too many times when they’d slept next to each other before the war.

"Oh fuck Steve, keep doing that."

"You like that?" Steve husked, complying when Bucky nodded his head limply, rubbing in tight circles, fingers tangling in Bucky's underwear as he tried his best to get Bucky off. And Bucky, well he wasn't easy, it usually took him a while to get in the right headspace to feel comfortable enough to let go, to let himself be free in the moment, but with Steve he knew he could be. He trusted Steve, wanted him by his side always, and he knew he'd catch Bucky, protect him as he fell. Steve would never let go again.

"Gonna make you come on my dick," Steve rasped into Bucky's mouth, making Bucky forget everything sweet and hopeful in their future to concentrate on how filthy Steve’s lust driven words were, "going to fill you up, and I'm never letting you out of my bed again Buck. You're mine - you hear that?"

"I… yes… yours," Bucky said as his knees buckled, and Steve had him, gripped him tight, pinching his dick in a way that made Bucky white out and he came apart. Bucky spurted into his pants, underwear soaking up his release and he jerked and whimpered as Steve held him through it, mouth hovering over his, whispering words of want and desire. 

"You're gorgeous Buck, the prettiest fella I ever saw."

"Jesus Steve," Bucky breathed as he came down from his orgasm, legs still twitching. "You're going all Brooklyn and sappy on me."

Steve kissed the corner of Bucky's mouth delicately, as if he hadn't just got him off in the tightests of spots, and removed his hand from Bucky's pants. "Always felt sappy with you Punk."

Bucky grinned back, sated, happy and languid - until he felt it.

"Have you got a fucking bludgeon in your pocket?" he exclaimed when Steve shifted, and awed, Bucky realised exactly what Steve was packing in his plain navy shorts that were often tangled with his black briefs in the dryer at home. Steve's cheeks tinged pink and Bucky was gone, so gone on this man who was sweet and commanding all at once.

"Oh shit Steve, am I going to have fun with you."

"Yeah?" Steve grinned back, suddenly a little shy, a little hopeful and Bucky smiled.

"For the rest of our lives if you want."

Steve sucked in a breath, "I'd like that."

"The surface is less than twenty metres away, a rescue shuttle has been dispatched and will meet you on the surface."

The automated voice fell away, and Bucky and Steve looked over each other's shoulders at the lightened water, having completely ignored the sea of fish and marine animals around them. It was stunning, there was so much life just under the surface.

And before he knew it, they were blinded by sunlight as the pod popped up on the surface, Bucky finding Steve on top of him, all of his weight pressing him down as the cylinder floated in the ocean on its side. The sheer bulk of Steve was phenomenal, a portent of things to come.

"Far out, you're heavy." Bucky commented with a grin.

"Sorry, the serum… well you know."

"No, I like it." He said as Steve kissed him again, leaning down to take Bucky's mouth under his in a passionate but short taste. "But you're still an ass for getting us into that position in the first place."

"How did you know I didn't plan it this way?"

Bucky laughed just as the lid opened and he squinted into the bright light, the quinjet hovering over them, finding himself staring directly up into Clint's grinning face.

"Looking cozy there boys, need a hand?"

"I think we have that handled," Steve replied with a smirk, staring at Bucky, and Bucky could only gaze up into the brightest blue he'd ever seen, the eyes of his best friend, his soon to be lover and hopefully so much more.

It took some maneuvering to get Steve off him without toppling them into the ocean, but soon they were inside waiting as Bruce and Clint secured the pod to take back to Tony's lab.

Bucky made his way to the front of the jet as Steve called in their failure to Fury, and greeted Natasha who was in the pilots seat, stretching his arms up and over his head, popping his muscles from having been cramped up too long. 

She looked him dead in the eye in the unnerving way only Nat could, and remarked, "your fly's undone."

Red faced, Bucky looked over at Steve who'd heard Nat and was silently laughing, telling Fury that 'no, he didn't think losing Namor was amusing', before hanging up and motioning Bucky over.

"You really are a jerk." Bucky hissed as he pulled up his fly, finally realising how wet and uncomfortable he was. He needed a shower. Preferably with company.

"But I'm your jerk though."

"Gee, aren’t I the luckiest guy in Brooklyn," Bucky snarked back at Steve's playful wink, and for the entire trip home, neither of them could keep the grins off their faces.

A day later - Natasha brought Namor in.

[janeykath318]

The Beard Effect (Shieldshock)

Getting invited to the super secret Avengers lair was a pretty big deal to a former “science minion.” The Accords had split the Avengers in half and those who had joined Steve Rogers in refusing to sign it were basically fugitives. It angered Darcy that the people who’d saved earth multiple times were being treated like criminals, just so the government had convenient scapegoats. 

Jane and Darcy were both vocal opponents of the Accords because of the gross human rights violations and as a result, a lot of opportunities suddenly disappeared. 

Jane went about muttering how she planned to portal Ross’s ass into outer space and Darcy was fully on board with that plan. 

Unfortunately, before any portalling could happen, they ended up getting kidnapped again. This wasn’t their first rodeo and they managed to overcome the thugs and hijack their van, but it broke down in the middle of nowhere and the two of them were left stranded, with no way to call for help. 

“What’ll we do now?” Jane asked

“Start walking,” Darcy suggested. “There’s bound to be some kind of civilization around here.”

Jane looked skeptical, but she shrugged and started walking. After an hour or so, they found a small lane that wound up and disappeared into the forest.

“That looks promising,” Jane said hopefully. “A Driveway!”

“Or the lane to a lair of villains or serial killers,” Darcy said, earning herself a glare. 

“It’s starting to get dark, Darce. I think we have to take our chances. I don’t see any other signs of habitation.” 

“True, but don’t come crying to me when an axe murderer is chasing you.” Darcy griped, but she started following the path, which turned out to be much longer than it looked.

“Don’t move!” A voice suddenly hissed from the shadows, stopping both women in their tracks.

“See? I told you!” Darcy crowed triumphantly. 

A figure emerged from the shadows, brandishing a gun, which he quickly holstered after he saw who they were.

“Darcy?”

“Clint?” Darcy exclaimed, recognizing her favorite archer and partner in crime. 

“How in the world did you get here?” Clint asked warily. “No one knows about this place.”

“Honestly, it was a complete accident,” Darcy told him. “We got kidnapped and escaped, but got stranded in the middle of nowhere and started walking, hoping to find other non-shady humans. This driveway looked promising, so here we are.” 

Clint looked very concerned and quizzed them on their captors and where they’d left the van before speaking into his comm. 

“I’ve explained the situation to Cap. He says to bring you up.”

“Steve’s here?” Darcy asked, heart doing a flutter of anticipation.

“Yep,” Clint grinned knowingly. He was well aware of the crush Darcy had on said Captain and used to tease her about it frequently. 

“Shall I tell him you send your love?”

“No!” Darcy nearly shouted, face turning pink. “Just get us safely inside.”

“Whatever you say,” Clint said with a smirk, chuckling to himself as he led them to the plain looking ranch house at the end of the lane. There was another brief discussion over the comms and then they were being ushered inside.

It was the typical plainly furnished basic safe house, but it was cluttered in a well-lived in way. Darcy recognized Wanda, Scott and Sam right away and greeted them all enthusiastically. Then Steve Rogers walked in and put a halt to all coherent thoughts. 

The man was gorgeous to begin with, but he’d let his hair get rather shaggy and—glory of glories—he’d grown a beard. He looked a bit world weary and tired, but he smiled right at her.

“Hi, Darcy, Jane.”

“Hi.” Darcy squeaked out, now doubly overcome from the smile AND the beard. She’d always had a weakness for bearded men, but Steve’s glorious specimen took that to a whole new level.

Jane took pity on her and took charge of the conversation, explaining what had happened to them and asking if they could be so kind as to tell them where they were and provide them a lift back to civilization.

“Sure we can,” Steve agreed, “but we should probably wait until morning. Natasha and Sharon are out scoping things out and we’ll soon find out more about your kidnappers. Were either of you hurt at all?”

“Only a few bruises and rope marks. Darcy and I kicked ass. They won’t mistake us for helpless scientists ever again.”

Jane spoke proudly and Darcy nodded enthusiastically. She’d wished Natasha could have seen it. 

Steve outright beamed at this, which caused Darcy to trip and go down in an embarrassed heap. She stayed on the floor, wishing a portal would appear and whisk her away. 

“Why are you like this?” Jane sighed in exasperation as she and Steve helped Darcy up.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, concern in his voice.

Mortified, Darcy couldn’t look at him and mumbled “Yeah. Just tired. Being kidnapped wears one out.”

She wanted to die. Why did she always have to make herself look like an idiot in front of him? 

Steve, being the gentleman he was, volunteered to sleep in the living room so Jane and Darcy could have a bed. Darcy tried not to think about what sleepy Steve would look like as she counted sheep that night. 

She awoke the next morning and wandered out to the kitchen to find Natasha making coffee.

“Sleep well?” The spy greeted her, green eyes appraising her.

“Yes,” Darcy managed. “Though if you have extra coffee, I could definitely use some.” 

They caught up over their caffeinated beverages and Darcy heard more of the story of how Natasha had ended up changing her mind about the Accords and joining Team Cap. 

Right in the middle of a very funny anecdote involving Clint, Sam, and Scott, the door opened and Steve entered the house, sweaty and disheveled after a morning run.

Darcy’s laughter died in her throat as she observed Steve’s damp white shirt and glistening skin, muscles very much on display. 

“Morning, Nat. Darcy,” he acknowledged, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and gulping it down.

Darcy let out a “morning!” and got the heck out of there, face burning again. She needed a cold shower and fast. She heard Natasha laughing at her, but decided she’d deal with that later. Steve was going to be the death of her. 

“Nat, do you know why Darcy hates me? She practically runs away whenever I enter a room and I don’t know what I did.”

A bewildered Steve was asking his friend this question two months later when they were settled in a new, larger, secret compound, joined by Darcy and Jane. He’d liked Darcy a lot and used to enjoy her company, but now, she could barely stand to look at him and he was rather confused and a little hurt. 

“I can’t speak for Darcy, but I don’t think it’s anything you did,” Nat assured him. “Have you tried talking to her?”

“Yes, but she always is too busy or finds a reason to escape before I can get more than one sentence out. I figured she really doesn’t want to be around me, so I let it go.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair in frustration, wondering how in the world he was going to fix this. He missed Darcy and this situation was  becoming very upsetting to him. 

“I’ll see if I can find out what’s what,” Natasha promised. “It is very unlike Darcy to leave someone in the dark if they’ve offended her.”

That very afternoon, Darcy found herself locked in a closet with none other than Steve. All the banging and yelling and swearing and angry texting at Jane and Natasha availed nothing. 

Natasha’s blunt text took the wind out of Darcy’s sails and she looked over at Steve remorsefully. They were right. She’d let her stupid crush get in the way of her friendship. 

“I could break this door down, you know,” Steve offered. 

“No need,” Darcy sighed, smiling weakly. “It’s about time I put my big girl pants on and told you what’s going on. It’s not your fault. I just am a complete disaster around guys I have a crush on and I may have a thing for the beard,” she finished, blushing like a tomato. “Which is why I could hardly say a word to you without squeaking.”

“So I didn’t hurt you?” Steve asked cautiously. 

“No. It was mostly me trying to control my wild urges to say or do totally inappropriate things to you. Face it, Steve. You’re irresistible.”

Steve gave a bashful grin. 

“I don’t know about that. But what if I told you I would be totally okay with you being “inappropriate?” Because I too must confess to having had some inappropriate thoughts.” 

“Really? About me?” Darcy asked, starting to feel very smug. 

“Definitely you,” Steve said, looking at her very intently. She blushed again and moved over close to him so she was right up in his space. 

“So Watcha gonna do about it, soldier?” She asked flirtatiously.

Steve grinned.

“Let’s start here,” he murmured right before he kissed her. 

It was better than her wildest dreams. Holy crap, the man could kiss! Knees already weak, she clutched him for dear life as the kiss deepened. 

“If I’d have known this would be the result, I’d have grown a beard a long time ago,” Steve admitted when they came up for air. “I’m crazy about you, Darcy. Have been for awhile.”

Darcy giggled against his chest. 

“You’re still plenty hot without it, but it kinda was the icing on the cake,” she told him.

Neither of them noticed when Natasha unlocked the doors. She listened for a moment, then smiled triumphantly and texted Jane that the mission was a success. Nothing was seen of either Steve or Darcy for the rest of that day. 

[thanksjro]

Dark Cybertron Chapter 3: This One’s All About Skywarp. Honest!

It’s a beautiful day during Cybertron’s apocalypse, and Starscream is talking to a corpse to work through his emotions. He goes through a very brief rundown of what happened last issue, I guess because Swerve’s too busy being in space to do the Story So Far, and caps it off with an apology to Metalhawk over killing him. Rattrap watches this go down in the background, because this is Skywarp’s toy tie-in issue.

After this very incriminating conversation, Starscream goes out to see to the massive crowd standing outside, including Scoops’ little Targetmaster buddies.

I don’t care for that man’s beard.

Starscream promises to go talk to the Titan, though he really doesn’t want to, and Rattrap catches up to him to touch base. The two of them go to see Megatron, who’s still trapped in the forcefield hamster ball Wheeljack stuffed inside his chest back in RID. Starscream teases Rattrap about trying to be conniving, comparing it to his own endeavors as the Decepticon SIC, and offers a bit of advice.

Implying that Starscream hasn’t been flying by the seat of his proverbial pants since he became a main character in Phase Two.

Starscream, having met his daily quota of rubbing his success in Megatron’s face, goes off to see what he can do about this Titan situation.

Over at the Titan itself, the Autobots and Decepticons are duking it out, with the man of the hour gracing us with his presence.

Outstanding, you funky little robot.

Arcee tries a little banter, but it falls flat, and instead she just decides to sword fight a cat. Bumblebee asks Soundwave just what the hell he thinks he’s doing, and Soundwave gives a complete non-answer in the form of Decepticon propaganda, because anything else would make things too easy. This is where Starscream shows up and has his little chat with the Titan.

Back over in prison, Rattrap’s getting the skinny on the dark prophecy Scoop introduced into the narrative last issue. Rattrap wants to know just how this information got passed around so well outside of jail, and Scoop suggests that there are people who perhaps have a vetted interest in what may or may not be happening with Starscream. Then Rattrap makes it weird by A) not being terribly concerned about the potential end of the world and B) being impressed by the idea that Starscream somehow planned said end of the world.

This Skywarp issue is really good.

Over with the Lost Light, Ultra Magnus has taken command, and the lads are about to make the quantum jump to chase after Jhiaxus. But wait! Something’s off! The ship’s moving in a way that it shouldn’t be! Very odd, that. Brainstorm calls with answers, asking Magnus to grab Getaway, for some friggin’ reason, and head down to the shuttle bay.

Getaway asks Magnus how it feels to be big man on campus, and Magnus seems to think it’s a bit overrated.

Wow, someone needs to go talk to Xaaron about maybe thinking through his debate topics before he posts them, so he doesn’t get pegged as a space racist. The Universal Killswitch happened, like, last week, my dude.

The two of them get to the shuttle bay to discover that Metroplex’s thumb- which they picked up back in Spotlight: Trailcutter- is floating, and more or less pushing the Lost Light off-course. Getaway is pretty jazzed to see this thing on the ship, sort of missing the bigger picture. Brainstorm hypothesizes that Metroplex is using his severed thumb to guide the Lost Light to him.

Not sure why Getaway needed to be here for this.

Back on Cybertron, Everyone watches as Starscream flies up to the Titan. Arcee is ready to blast him out of the sky with a gun as big as she is, but Bumblebee wants to see where this goes. This pisses Prowl the hell off, and he starts yelling, but Bumblebee tells him to shut up. Bumblebee tells a lot of people to shut up in “Dark Cybertron”.

So we’ve got a team-up going on between the Autobots and the Decepticons- Bumblebee says it isn’t, but it pretty much is. Soundwave and Prowl get into a bit of a scuff, as Starscream lands and asks the Titan to chat.

Yeah, that doesn’t really work out too well.

Starscream manages to escape the Titan death blast in his alt, as the poor bastards on the ground below begin to dissolve into black fizz.

But Skywarp’s okay, so it can’t be all bad!

Yeeeeah, Skywarp.

Prowl starts yelling at Bumblebee again, as if he can’t see that the friggin’ death wave the Titan shot out of its face is still heading for Iacon, Starscream just barely managing to stay ahead of it. He lands as it hits, screaming about how Cybertron is his and he’s not gonna let some murder energy to steal his thunder, bracing his arms out as if that’ll do anything. Everyone watching him do this has about the expression you’d expect from witnessing such madness.

As the Iaconian populace gets dusted, someone else wakes up from the dead. It’s Metalhawk, and it’s time for him to become a tool of the narrative.

Metalhawk launches into the air and lands on top of Starscream, interrupting his personal diatribe to gripe about how he killed him. Still, there are bigger fish to fry, as he kicks Starscream through a wall and walks into the room where they keep Megatron.

Metalhawk releases Megatron from his hamster ball prison and carries him away, despite Starscream maybe insinuating that Megatron is dead somehow? It’s not super clear. Anyway, Metalhawk must do some pretty intense arm exercises, because he carries Megatron out and shoots into the air, holding him one-handed to his side.

Eat your veggies, kids, and you too can kidnap an entire warlord.

As the city falls apart, Rattrap and Scoop enter the scene, the prison likely having collapsed in the aftershocks of the death wave. Good thing they’re giant robots who can’t be killed by mere crushing damage. Rattrap tries to connive, but Scoop is more concerned with the fact that many people are dying, because he’s a somewhat decent person. Some of these people have begun to turn on Starscream, who takes it about as well be you’d expect.

Back on the Lost Light, the lads have decided to go find Metroplex, and to hell with bringing Jhiaxus to justice. At least for now. Of course, Ratchet tries to argue that they should do what Orion wanted them to do, but Orion isn’t here right now, is he? And Orion isn’t the space pope at this present time, now is he? So yeah. Metroplex time. They quantum jump, ending up underwater, with said water swarming with robots. That might be an issue, especially since they don’t seem to be terribly friendly.

Back in the Crystal City with Shockwave, Metalhawk’s dropped off the package, and Shockwave reminds us that he installed a space bridge in Megatron’s torso. Scientists sure do like to shove random bullshit into Megatron’s torso.

Hey.

Let’s talk about the NAILs for a second.

This is Tappet. I’ve been calling him Hat Guy up until this point, but his name is Tappet.

Everything Tappet done in the last 20+ issues of RID can be explained without him being the subject of the sentence:

The Decepticons kicked Tappet’s ass. Prowl sent Tappet to prison. Metalhawk bailed Tappet out of prison. Metalhawk brought Sky-Byte to the trashcan fire to talk to Tappet and some other neutrals. Starscream takes off his top as Tappet watches.

The point I’m trying to make here is that Tappet doesn’t actually do anything. None of the NAILs actually do anything, other than die and fill out crowd shots. Sometimes they bitch about the current situation, but even then, a lot of the time, those more vocal NAILs were actually involved in the war at some point.

This is an issue, because we’ve been presented with this entirely new group that’s in direct opposition of the war caused by every character we’d met prior to The Death of Optimus Prime.

And they have zero agency within the story. Shit just happens around them and they react. In fact, one of the major point points of RID is whether or not the Autobots should let the NAILs have agency within the very government that rules them, and it is such a point of contention that it takes literal in-story months and several disasters for them to reach a consensus. A decision that barely involves input from Metalhawk, the guy who is a NAIL, and is meant to be their advocate. Metalhawk, who is supposed to be on the same level as Bumblebee in terms of sway in the narrative.

At first, he did- he was the subtly conniving bastard who would trip Bumblebee up in front of others to make him look bad, and then deny anything of the sort happened if questioned. It was an interesting dynamic with a character that was new to the continuity. Metalhawk was interesting.

Then Starscream got involved, and Metalhawk’s role was reduced to yes-man and character motivation to both of them, because conniving is Starscream’s thing, and obviously we can’t have two bastards gang up on poor, sweet lil’ Bumblebee.

Who had a remote control that could blow up people’s heads if they pissed him off.

You remember when Bumblebee was the kid appeal character? Because I do.

The point is, the NAILs exist, but their existence isn’t justified within the story. They’re set-dressing, not characters. And now Metalhawk in particular is a prop for Shockwave, and somehow I doubt the other guys are going to be doing a hell of a lot in this story.

I dunno, it just seems like a bit of a waste.

Anyway, Skywarp sure was present in his toy tie-in issue, huh? Remember when he did that thing? And the stuff? Ah man, that was so cool!

Yeah, someone probably crossed their I’s and dotted their T’s on this one, because I’m pretty friggin’ sure this wasn’t meant to be his, even if the exclusive cover says otherwise.

[prettyfunkyunorganized]

Daughter Series - McCree pt. 2

Sorry I took such a long break! This is the first day I’ve REALLY felt okay again - not coughing and wiping my nose a ton. GET YOUR FLU SHOTS, PEOPLE!!! Holy crow. I appreciate your patience while I caught up on life stuff and planned my big fic :)

Anywho. here’s another McCree and Juniper post! Inspired by my bought of Influenza B. Only 1,800ish words. I’m learning to keep it shorter! :O

More Daughter Series: Hanzo, Roadhog, McCree, Soldier 76, Genji 

McCree installments: pt 1, pt 2

masterlist

It was about the middle of the afternoon and McCree was damn hungry. What he wouldn’t give for something fried and topped with some sorta shellfish, but Mercy had pitched the fryer weeks ago – she was a cruel, health-minded tyrant. Leftovers or a sandwich would have to do. “Wonder what my sweetpea’s up to,” he mused, wandering down the hallway. Juni was probably elbow deep in some turret or Winston’s temperamental Tesla Cannon over in Torbjorn’s workshop. How that girl could spend all day with that sour little engineer, McCree would never know. She was always smiling though and swore Torb treated her well.

The cowboy pushed open the door and was instantly greeted with the sound of angry Swedish grumbling.

“Somethin’ givin’ you trouble, Torb,” McCree asked.

“Yes, but I’m sure you can’t do anything about it,” the little man griped. He was madder than a wet hen today.

“Alright, alright. I’ll leave ya be,” he chuckled. “You know where my Juniper is, though?”

“Haven’t seen her,” Torbjorn said, muffled by the screwdriver in his mouth.

“Since . . .” McCree asked leadingly.

“Since yesterday.”

He frowned deeply. “Yesterday? She hasn’t been in here all day?”

Torb sighed heavily and swiveled on his tall stool. “That’s usually what ‘since yesterday’ means. Maybe you need to cut all that hair, cowpoke – I’m starting to think it’s clogging your ears.”

McCree burst out laughing, “Oh, but that giant-ass bushy beard never gets in yer way?”

The man opened his mouth and took a deep breath to retaliate, but then stopped dead. “Good point,” Torbjorn shrugged. “But no, I haven’t seen little Juniper today, which isn’t like her. I figure she’s got her reasons. I was going to go knock on her door, but I lost track o’ time. You going to check on her?”

“Yeah,” he nodded vigorously, “I’m gonna find her.”

“Let me know if something’s up,” Torbjorn said turning back around, “but I’m sure she’s just a little burnt out. She’s a little worker bee, that one. I found her in here at 9:30 last night and told her to take a breather. Probably just relaxing somewhere and drifted off. She definitely got that ability to sleep anywhere form you.”

Jesse beamed proudly and thanked his teammate for the tip. Every time someone pointed out a similarity between him and his daughter, McCree swelled with pride. She was an infinitely better person than he was, but she also made him feel like a better man. If Juni saw something worthwhile in him, he must be doin’ alright.

“Juniper,” he called, knocking on her door – just a few feet from his own, “you in there?”

All was quiet, but just as McCree was about to leave, the thick metal door slid open. Juni stood blinking in the fluorescent lights with a big blanket wrapped around her shoulders and her hair strung about wildly.

“Takin’ a nap, sweetpea,” he laughed.

“Yeah,” she said roughly and began coughing. The smile fell from McCree’s face.

“You feeling okay,” he asked worriedly.

“I’m sick,” she explained, rubbing her face drowsily.

“Aw, honey, why didn’t you tell me?!” He pulled her into a hug, and she giggled, coughing into her blanket after.

“I didn’t want to bug you,” she replied, smiling up at him. “I know you guys have a lot going on right now with Overwatch operations being started up again. And I already went to Angela for some meds, so don’t worry.”

“Did she say it’s just a cold,” he asked rubbing her cheek.

“Yup. She told me to take it easy and get some rest. I’ll be okay soon.”

McCree squeezed her tighter. “You still should have told me,” he pouted, “I shoulda been takin’ care of you.”

“I was going to let you know eventually, honest,” she said into his serape.

He smoothed her hair and kissed her forehead. He loved holding her close. “You doing any better now?”

“Not really,” she moaned. “I should take some more medicine and get some water, though.”

“Have you eaten?” She shook her head. “Well then, I’m going to heat us up some soup and bring it to you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Juniper insisted.

“Hey,” he said pecking the top of her head, “don’t deny me the chance to take care of my sick baby girl. I missed out on every other cold, so I got a lot of making up to do.”

She snorted and smirked, “You don’t have to make up for anything, McCree. You’ve already done so much for me.”

“I want to take care of you, Juni,” he said softly. “Now, go curl up, and I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay,” she laughed. “Thanks, McCree. I’ll leave the door unlocked for ya.”

He rushed to the kitchen and plopped a couple cans of soup in a pot, tapping his foot impatiently as the contents heated up. Slowly. He dug around in the cupboards and found some powdered “Orange Drink” and dumped it in a jug of cold water. Hopefully, it wasn’t too nasty. Winston was about the only one who liked this stuff, likely because of his time on the Lunar Colony, but it did have a lot of vitamin C and D. A while later, McCree was juggling a filled thermos of chicken noodles, a couple of bowls, two spoons, and the fake OJ. He hardly had a free finger to thumb her door’s keypad.

“Need a hand,” Juniper asked with a giggle as he walked into her room.

“I got this,” he laughed, catching the bowls before they fell too far down his side.

McCree set everything down on her bedside table, scooting a few things over.

“Sorry it’s a mess in here,” she said flushing. “I’ve never been the best about keeping my room clean.”

“Don’t you worry about that,” McCree smiled at her, “I don’t mind a bit. I was a messy guy for a long time until this place whipped me into shape. Not that you need to be whipped into shape! I was much, much worse.”

“I’ll tidy up soon,” she promised, snuggling deeper into her bed.

“It’s ok, baby girl,” he said slowly. “Stop worrin’ so much. You’re perfect, ya hear?” He kissed her head again.

“You’re gonna get sick too if you keep kissin’ me like that,” she laughed.

“Pfft, I’ll be fine! I’m healthy as a horse! Now, you eat up.” He sat on the edge of Juniper’s bed with her and they ate quietly, some soft music playing from her phone. Eventually, she slumped over and rested her head on his shoulder, yawning.

“Thanks for the soup,” she said putting her bowl on the table before leaning back into him.

“Did it help any,” he asked, putting his head on hers.

“Yeah,” she nodded, “my throat feels better.”

“Good,” he cooed softly. “Drink your juice? Or, I guess, juice-like drink?”

She smirked, “Yeah, I got a glass down.”

“Was it gritty?”

“So gritty,” she laughed.

“Damn. I was hoping that stuff had gotten better over the years, but I guess not,” he chuckled.

“I might lay back down for a while, McCree, if you don’t mind,” she said rubbing her eyes.

“Alright, baby girl, whatever you need. You want me to go? I can sit with ya ‘til you fall asleep if you want,” he offered sheepishly. “Or not.”

Her smile was wide and understanding, as it often was. It made McCree realize just how lucky he really was. “You can stay if you want to. That’d be nice. Real nice.”

Juni’s lilt was making a strong appearance now that she was medicated and sleepy, which filled her father with delight. She crawled over the small bed and flopped onto her pillow, a box of extra soft tissues by her side. McCree twisted around so he could toy with her hair and rub her back, his knee resting on the sheets.

“Comfy,” he asked quietly, dimming the nearby lamp.

“Mm-hmm,” she sighed happily, wriggling to his side so she could nuzzle against his leg. McCree almost melted, then and there.

“I’ll be right here if you need anything, sweetpea,” he whispered, sappy tears filling his eyes. She was everything he’d ever wanted.

“Okay. Thanks, McCree.”

“Of course, Juniper.” He pulled off his serape and draped it over her, making Juniper’s smile grow.

“McCree,” she said, looking up at him, “thank you, for everything. You’re my favorite person in the whole world, and I don’t know what I did before I found you. I’m a really lucky kid.”

“Aw, Juni, honey,” he sputtered, incredibly overwhelmed, “I’m the lucky one! You’re the most wonderful little thing I’ve ever seen, and I love you, sweetpea.”

“I love you, too,” she said back. “I’m really glad you’re my dad.”

He laughed, brushing her brown locks behind her ear. “Me too. You know, you can call me Dad, if you want.”

Her face drooped, and she turned away.

“But you don’t have to,” he said hurriedly, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice.

“I just . . . that’s a complicated word for me,” she said heavily.

McCree rubbed her arm, as if trying to warm back up her mood. “That’s alright, hun, you don’t have to call me that if you don’t want to. It’s just a glorified nickname.”

She sighed again, sitting up next to him. “It’s just that I asked Harris if I could call him ‘Dad’ when I was really little, and he said no. It kinda broke my tiny, kindergartener heart and I’ve never really liked sayin’ that word since. I’m sorry. I know it’s dumb, but – ”

“Juni, it’s not dumb,” he said wrapping his arms around her and dragging her so her back so it was pressed against his chest. “You’ve had a very, I ‘spose . . . unorthodox upbringing. If there’s some stuff you’re not feelin’ up for, I can 100% understand that. I just want to be there for you, hon, no matter what you call me.”

“Promise yer not mad,” she asked softly, putting her hands over his.

“Not even a tiny bit,” he promised her.

Juniper wormed out of his arms and turned around to give him a proper hug. “Thanks, McCree. You’re the best.”

“I try,” he chuckled, “Now why don’t you lie down and get some rest?”

She slid back under the covers, cuddling close to him again. “You’re still gon’ sit with me for a while, right?”

“I’m not going anywhere until you toss me out of here by the scruff of my neck,” he grinned.

“Good,” she said through another yawn.

He took care of her for the next few days – pouring her cough syrup, bringing her crackers, or smothering her with hugs. Of course, McCree got sick, too, so Juniper was happily able to take care of him in return. Neither one had ever been so happy while ill.

Additional tags: @watch-your-grammer @winchester-sonsandcastiel

[wallpapernifty]

The Reason Why Everyone Love Purple Iris Flower | Purple Iris Flower

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A The bulb is tradescantia, frequently alleged spiderwort. It is an easy-care built-in perennial. There are altered annual colors available, but amethyst is the best common. Over time, it can become a bit blessed and advance a bit, so

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[adampage]

Hold This Flower | Dean Ambrose

Pairing: Dean Ambrose x Reader, Roman x Galina mention

“Hey there ! I was just wondering if I could request imagine with a plus size reader ? Maybe something where she was the female member of the shield and [Dean and her] had a romance storyline that carried on after the [Shield] breakup and they’re also dating in real life as well ? Just a bunch of fluff. If not, I’m sorry to disturb you at this late hour.” - anon

Word Count: 4,298

Warnings: Literally none I think??? Fluffy as all heck 

Author’s Note: I’m taking requests! Honestly, not gonna lie, I’m a little worried with how the anon will like this one because I saw that someone requested a very similar prompt to someone else and I’m worried the anon couldn’t wait for my slow ass :( Anyway, I personally like how this one turned out so please let me know??? Thank y’all sooooo much <3

Tagging: @llowkeys / @we-work-hard / @p0tat0catofwesteros / @toosweetme / @blondekel77 / @welshwitch5 / @alexahood21 / @the-geekgoddes / @xxmaddhatter39xx / @sjwrites22 / @crowleysqueenofhell / @xstylesxclashx / @justrae9903 / @hardcorewwetrash / @helluvawriter / @wrasslin-x / @roman-reigns-princess / @reigns420 / @athoughtfulmindwrites / @wrestlingbabe / @heyambrose / @straight-outta-the-asylum / @idekwhatthisis / @mewsburger

“Don’t tell him I told you.” “Roman, when have I ever told a secret?” “Literally all the time.” You laughed, burning with embarrassment. “Okay, you’re right.” “I’m serious, [Y/N]. Don’t even hint that you know. He’ll kill me.” You looked at Roman, sitting next to you. “I’m not gonna-” “Shh,” he hushed, “don’t look at me. What if he comes through and sees us talkin’?” You couldn’t help it. You giggled, slapped his arm. “Are you telling me Big Bad Roman is afraid of my soon-to-be-”

“Shh, put your head down, there he is,” Roman hissed, grabbing his plate of unfinished steak, potatoes, and salad and making to leave. Sure enough, there was Dean, hands taped and ready for his match, walking towards them. It had been a blessing, having Dean back on Raw. After the Shield break up two years back and the draft last year, you and Seth and Roman had all ended up on the same Raw roster. You’d been heartbroken, when you found out, but Dean assured you that he wouldn’t let that separate the both of you. “Just keep that bastard Seth at an arm’s length, okay?” He’d said with a wink. The break up might have been the betrayal of the century for the WWE universe, but for the four of you, it was nothing but creative’s latest storyline. Still, you had to hand it to creative, as well as Vince. Vince had noticed the on-screen chemistry between you and Dean, and told creative to book a romance. It went along with his plan, anyway. Had your chemistry not been noticed, it would’ve still been three against one by the time of the break up. They wanted to set Seth as the worst person imaginable, and it just so happened that stabbing his brothers in the back was nothing compared to clapping his real life sister in the back with a steel chair. “Hey, Dean!” Roman smiled nervously, nearly gone. Dean held a hand out in front of him, stopping Roman dead in his tracks. “Why you leavin’ so soon, brother? I just got here.” Roman swallowed a gulp, flashed Deano a brilliant smile. “Gotta get ready for that match against Braun. You know how it is.” “That I do, brother, that I do.” He dropped his hand to let Roman pass, and turned his attention to you. He sat down in Roman’s recently vacated chair, legs spread apart, one arm draped on the back of your own chair. “What was that all about?” Dean asked, ever in character. Nothing slipped past the ol’ lunatic fringe. His mind moved way too quickly for that. Luckily, you were quicker. “My match with Nia. I asked him for advice. He bounced when he saw you because he knows how you feel about me asking anyone else for ring advice.” He shot me a confused look. “I’m not that bad, am I? Looked like Roman saw a ghost.” You feigned thinking about it, looking up at the ceiling, then back at him. “No, you’re pretty bad.” You reached for his face, scratching at his beard. His eyes fluttered closed, reveling in the feeling of your soft skin. One of his hands grazed your body, squeezing those parts of you that you tended to dislike. “You know I don’t like when you do that to my fat.” His eyes opened. “We’ve been through this, baby.” “I know, but-” “Does it feel good?” “Yes, but-” “Then you like it. What you don’t like is that you’re bigger than the average woman, but you know that doesn’t bother me.” A hand touched your cheek. “It’s actually one of the things I love most about you. There’s more of you to love. And I plan on loving every goddamn inch of you.” It was enticing. There was a growl in his voice you only heard when he was filled with lust for you, but he wasn’t making any definitive moves. Plus, you had a match. “[Y/N]! Backstage in five minutes!” As if on cue, one of the backstage hands called out. Dean’s light blue eyes shined with love, head nodding in the direction of the assistant. “Go on, baby. Kick that ass.” “I’m losing this one.” “All the more reason why you should kick that ass.” A woman’s shout from outside the catering room. “I heard that, Dean!” Nia. You stifled a giggle, your boyfriend smirking in Nia’s direction. “Damn right ya did!”

9 DAYS LATER You were due for a few days off. On screen injury from Nia and that Little Miss Bitch ambushing you during your match against Emma. Okay, and it was Christmas. Dean wasn’t about to let those few days pass without making sure he got to spend time with you, so you figured this was probably it. The Day. You were taking a flight home with Seth. Dean was going to be meeting the both of you in Iowa, at your parents’ house. You shook your head. This situation screamed Big Deal, even if Roman hadn’t warned you about it. Every minute on the plane at Seth’s side was making you more and more nervous. Seth hadn’t spoken the entire flight. But you did your best to stay busy; after all, three hours was too long to be bored. You silently thanked the universe for remembering to bring your iPad and headphones, drowning out the silence between the two of you with some Five Finger Death Punch. Because angst. Obviously, “I Apologize” was on repeat. It was the song you imagined played in the background of a shield reunion promo. But of course that would never happen. Roman was doing too well on his own for Vince to jeopardize that with a reunion, and you understood that perfectly. “Hey, sis?” You almost didn’t hear it. But you had seen him shuffle in his seat, and you knew that something was wrong. Seth slept like a bear on most flights. You took both headphones out, all too eager to break this tension. “Yeah?” He looked at his feet, struggling to find the words. Your hand reached out to him, hand covering his own. “You know that…Dean’s gonna…” “I know.” “How did you…?” His voice drifted away, thinking. You let him, because the answer was simple. “Fucking Roman,” he realized. “Yeah, Roman. But you aren’t really that much of a secret keeper, either. Or were you not just about to tell me, too?” Seth sighed, caught. “Yeah, I was.” He was quiet again. You were about to check if he’d drifted off to sleep, when he spoke. “Listen, I’m ecstatic for you. I honestly never imagined that your relationship with Dean would amount to this.” You raised an eyebrow, wondering if you should be offended. “That’s not what I mean,” he said. He let out a sigh, mustering up the right words for what he was about to say. “You and I both know that everyone on the roster knows about my relationships with women.” “If you can call them relationships,” You quipped. “Exactly. And everyone thinks I’m the only one with a history like that. But Dean used to be the same. That’s why, early on in your relationship, I was worried. But I never said anything, because you were happy.” “I guess what I’m saying is, that if he ever does anything to treat you wrong, I’m here. I’ll kick his ass all the way back to Cincinnati if I have to, if it’s what you want. I won’t let him hurt you.” You stared at him, tears pooling at the corners of your eyes. “Seth…” “Fuck, oh, shit, sis…don’t start that crying shit,” he griped, hand pulling out from under yours, “you know that crying shit makes me uncomfortable.” You slapped him on the arm. “You fucking asshole,” you whined. “You knew that would make me cry.” “That’s why I didn’t want to fucking say it.” “But you did, and it was beautiful.” “Don’t start that shit, oh my God.” “Give me a hug, Seth,” you cried. “No, what? Don’t get near me.” “Please?” He was halfway off his seat, keeping the distance between the two of you at its max. “Absolutely not.” “Come on.” He looked at you, mascara sliding down your face, eyes red and puffy. But happy. You were happy, and he saw that. So he couldn’t say no. “Ugh, fine.”

The rest of the flight was uneventful, and the both of you made it to your parents’ place in one piece. You wrapped your blue scarf tightly around your neck, pulled your jacket closer against you. It was freezing. You grabbed your suitcase and left Seth to pay the driver. Mom had the door open before you could even knock. “Sweetheart!” “Merry Christmas, Mom!” You wrapped her in a warm embrace. “Merry Christmas to you, too, honey. Go on, your father’s in the living room. Oh, Seth!” She reached for her beloved son, paying no more mind to you, her daughter. You rolled your eyes, dropping off your suitcase by the stairs. “Happy holidays, Ma.” “Oh, that’s right. The non-believer,” Mom said jokingly. “Mom,” you chastised, saving your brother from torture. “Be nice.” “Okay, okay….are you hungry? There’s leftovers in the fridge if you want some.” “Good, I’m starved.” He said, rubbing at his tummy. She led him by the hand to the kitchen, and you smiled. “Catering can’t beat your cooking.” He was a momma’s boy through and through, that one. You heard laughter coming from the living room. It sounded like two voices. One deep, one mellow. You traipsed through the doorway yelling, “Dad! I’m home!” before you stopped short, catching that flair of ginger, those dazzling eyes. “Dean?” you gasped. He had told you his flight was delayed, that he wouldn’t be there for another couple hours or so. “Hey, babe. Your dad and I were just talkin’ about the day you were born.” “Yeah, a chubby lil’ thing,” Dad grunted, remembering the day well. “I’d never thought you’d grow into the big, strong woman you are now.” “Papi!” You plopped down next to him on the couch before he could stand, squeezing him tightly. “Hola, mijita. How’s my little girl?” “I’m great, pa, now that all three of my boys are here, together.” Dean let out a few light chuckles. “Don’t let Roman hear you say that. You’ll break his heart.”

After spending quite some time in the living room with your mom, dad, Seth, and Dean (consisting heavily of nagging from your mother and saving Seth from interrogation, starting with “So, Seth, honey, how’s your love life going? Am I going to be expecting some grandchildren anytime soon from any of your lovers?” and ending with “How are you going to find yourself a good, loving relationship with a woman if you don’t have a good, loving relationship with God?”), Mom and Dad retired to bed, your dad claiming to be exhausted from second-hand nagging, and your mother just tired of her heathen spawn (a lie, of course, she loved both of you know matter what). Seth chuckled, shaking his head. “Is it like this every time you come home?” Dean asked, clearly amused at the mother-son dynamic. You were sitting on his lap, sinking both of you deeper and deeper into the soft couch, but Dean didn’t seem to mind. His hands held you cozily, one hand on your outer thigh, the other wrapped around and tucked into your under arm. He claimed he liked your warmth. “Just at Christmas. Otherwise, I have free reign.” You conversed back and forth for a while, all of you entranced with the conversation of, “So what are we going to do come January? What are the storylines going to look like?” It was safe to say all of you were workaholics. There was something strange about being home, as if home was really somewhere else, on the road, with the rest of the crew. Five years ago, that would have been abhorrent to think about - not having a true home. But it took you that long to realize your home was anywhere Dean and Seth were. Roman, too. Just then, you heard Roman’s all too familiar voice from somewhere beneath you. “You can Believe That!™” Dean didn’t flinch or jump, but something in his voice sounded a little shaken. “What the hell?” You laughed, the look on Dean and Seth’s faces completely priceless. “That’s Roman’s text tone on my phone. I made him record it a couple weeks ago.” “That’s the….most terrible thing I’ve ever heard in my life,” Seth griped at you, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “You can practically hear the trademark in his voice.” “He’s right, that sounds terrible.” “Don’t be mean to Roman! It was my idea anyway. I forced him into it,” you slapped Dean on the arm, reached behind you to see what Roman sent, making sure to keep the screen away from Dean’s eyes. [So?] You quickly sent back, [Not yet. Shush.] You hoped he’d realize that he shouldn’t send any more messages. When you heard his trademark again, you nearly broke down in anger, but were surprised to find a picture of Roman and Galina in Cancun, the beautiful bright blue water shining behind them. He was kissing her cheek, and you could see the blush lightly shading her gorgeous brown skin. “What’s he saying?” You silently thanked Roman for not listening to your text, ultimately giving you some back up evidence in case Dean asked. And he had. You showed him the picture of Galina and Roman. “Aren’t they adorable?” “Yeah. They look so happy. Good for them.” You handed the phone to Seth. “They’re so precious.” “I wouldn’t say Roman is precious.” “Ugh, whatever!” Seth handed the phone back, and made to stand. He stretched his arms, his black haired happy trail visible for a moment. “Well,” he groaned, “I’m gonna hit the sack. Maybe play some videogames before I go to sleep. You need anything, Dean, clothes or anything, just let me know.” “Thanks, brother. Good night.”

“You wanna go for a walk with me?” Dean asked, squeezing you tightly. Sometimes it really struck you how different Dean could be from the man he played in the ring. Sure, there were some truths to his character - the impulsive nature, the (for the most part) no-care attitude…but there were a lot of traits he possessed that no one ever got to see, and would be surprised to find out about him. He was very sweet, and very touchy. He loved to keep his hands on you in every moment, whether it was a thumb pressed against your side or a hand on your thigh. You weren’t nearly as touchy, which you considered a side effect of never being touched. Your parents were only semi-affectionate in the touch department, hugs in welcome and kisses good night. And your infrequent experience with men didn’t help, either. But all of that was okay. All that time lacking personal affection made his touch all the more welcome. His touch was the only touch that really, truly, made you feel safe. But his touch wasn’t going to keep you warm outside, unfortunately. “Dean, it’s in the twenties. That’s below freezing. Have you forgotten the snow on the ground?” “So?” he shrugged, “it’ll be fun.” You both sat there in silence, mulling it over. You could hear him humming softly, awaiting your response. His cheek vibrated beneath yours as he did so, and you grinned. It was only then that you realized he was humming silently the chorus to Bad Touch. You and me, baby, we’re nothing but mammals

So let’s do it like they do on the discovery channel Repeatedly. For no reason. “Okay,” you laughed, “if only to get you to stop humming that song.” “It’s so catchy.” “Exactly. I don’t want to catch it.” “Alright, baby, up you get,” Dean said, patting your thighs, signaling for you to get off him. You stood, turned back to grab his hand and help him up from his sunken position in the couch. “You’re really stuck in there, aren’t you?” He grunted, “I had about 243 pounds of love on top of me.” “Have you been stalking my Wikipedia page?” You pulled on him, hard. He popped out of the couch and rammed into you, nearly knocking the both of you backwards. “Whoops,” he muttered, hands gently resting at your waist, quick to benefit from the blunder. “And no, I haven’t. I do watch women’s matches, you know. Especially yours. I know how they bill you.” “And do you know my actual weight?” His proud smile dropped in confusion. “You mean that’s not your weight?” “It was. Now it’s not.” “You got me.” He gave you a kiss on the nose. “I have no clue what your actual weight is.” “Two forty. I lost three pounds last week.” “Now why’d you go and do that for?” “Because I wanted them to bill me with an even number,” you laughed. “Baby, that’s three pounds less of you to love.” He sighed dramatically. “But if it makes you happy, it makes me happy. I’m proud of you.” “Thanks, Dean.” “So will you take that walk with me?” “Of course I will.”

Whoever thought hell was a burning pit of fire had never seen ice. The field that your parents called their backyard glistened with snow. The trees bordering the field were a good acre away at least, and the driveway in front was already being blanketed with tiny little snowflakes. It was fucking freezing, the wind was quietly howling in your ears, and Dean’s body was as cold as your own. It was a good day to die together, you mused. “Dean, why did you talk me into this?” You seethed through chattering teeth. “I have no earthly idea,” he trembled, hands holding one of your own close to his chest as y'all walked. You were glad of it. It was easing the cold, if but a fraction. “But I’m starting to regret it. Come on, we can take shelter in the barn.” “Dean, I don’t think that’s-” But he was gone, in the blink of an eye he had crossed the distance from you to the barn, cold hands rubbing together; he blew on them to melt his frozen fingers, and opened the barn door just a smidge. He slithered in, careful not to open it too far or else he’d let in too much of the cold. He’d regret that, too. That barn was always a mess. You stood there in the snow, speechless. You were amazed at his impulsive nature, and how very quickly he left you out in the cold by yourself. “He just-?” you muttered, flabbergasted. You shook your head, and continued the walk to the barn, cursing silently at him but also finding his behavior extremely funny. His head popped out suddenly from the crack of the barn door. “Come on, babe, what gives?” “Oh, I’ll fucking show you what gives.” More grumbling from you, followed by rubbing of your arms as you reached the door. “Fucking left me out in the damn-” You shut up as soon as you saw the scene before you, straight out of a teen fairytale. Twinkling fairy lights strung across the ceiling. And it was clean. Even the horses in their stables smelled like flowers, and there were a great deal of flowers. They covered every inch of the barn, from the floor to the top, the hay bales on the loft nearly invisible under the coat of white and purple roses. Every piece of farming equipment was mounted and stored at one corner of the barn, out of mind and spotless. And Dean: mouth closed, lips curled at one end in a crooked smile. A red rose in his hand, trembling slightly. Ocean blue eyes bright with hope. “Dean?” He stepped close, handed you the rose. “Hold this flower.” You giggled, accepting it, in awe at the way he presented it to you. You were very confused. Sure, you knew what was happening, but you were amazed at how. The shock of the beauty surrounding you had you thinking. He planned this out, all right. He planned this out well. He had help, and lots of it. And this was so un-Dean. “Ya like it?” He asked, nonchalant as ever. Only the trembling in his left hand gave away his true feelings. He caught you staring at it, and he buried it in the pocket of his jeans, taking a step back from you. “It’s beautiful,” you sighed, taking a whiff of the dazzling rose. It smelled fresh, crisper than the scent of cold. You made to take a step closer to him, but he stopped you, holding out a palm. “No, just stand right there.” You did as he commanded, waiting patiently. He ran a hand through his hair, dropped it to scratch at his beard. You wondered what he was going to say. “Look, you’re probably wondering what all this is.” You nodded, silent. “I planned this out. With your mom and dad. Strange, I know,” he chuckled. “I’m not usually the kind of guy with a plan. I’m that guy with the impulse, the kinda guy who changes his mind once, twice, three times in the span of five minutes.” “But this took me weeks to plan, and I did it. All of it. For you.” By then you were on the verge of crying. You did your best not to, but you drew your eyes to the ground, shying away from his words. He took a step closer, and stopped himself. “Stay with me, babe. Show me those beautiful eyes. I need you to listen to me. Please.” You nodded, looking back up to him, doing your best to hold back your tears. “[Y/N], I planned this out for you because I wanted to prove to you that you are not some impulse. I’ve thought about it, for weeks, months even. All that time apart, you and Seth and Roman on Raw and me on Smackdown, I thought about it.” He sighed, but not a sigh of resignation…but one of love. “I love you. I love you so much. I love every little bit of you. I love your laugh. Your eyes. That you can’t keep a secret worth a damn. Your dimples. The small freckles that litter your body. Your humor. Your tummy fat. Your hip fat. The way your arm jiggles when I poke it. Your gorgeous, chubby cheeks. Your plump ass. No, don’t stop me now, I’m almost done,” he held his hand up again, stopping you from your wordless protests. “I love every single bit of you and I promise you, though you may not love it yourself, I’ll love you enough for the both of us.” A shudder of breath escaped your lips, still unable to grasp the reality of the situation. He stepped closer, dropped down on one knee. His hands fumbled at his jacket pocket, took out the small, navy velvet box. “I know that I won’t always be the best person. I’m an impulsive, belligerent, don’t-give-a-damn kind of fool.” His fingers opened the box, revealing a small diamond on a simple silver band, absolutely perfect. “But I promise I will make you laugh every day for the rest of our lives, if you’ll let me.” “I guess what I’m trying to say is, will you marry me?” You couldn’t choke back the tears any longer. You dropped down to look Dean in the eyes and nodded desperately, a silent yes all he needed in order to wrap his arms around you and kiss you on the forehead, rubbing his nose against yours. “For all intents and purposes, that was a yes, right?” He asked. “Of course, you asshole,” you cried, not wanting to let him go. You could feel him chuckling against you, before his head lifted away from you and he shouted in the direction of the barn door. “Come on in, everybody!” Seth came in first, black beanie covering his ears from the cold, jacket wrapped tight against him. “It’s about fucking time, goddamn it.” “You know, for someone who doesn’t believe in God, you sure like to invoke his wrath a whole lot more than the average person.” “Ma, please.” “Honey, leave him alone,” Dad appeared behind his wife and son, “this isn’t about him. This is about my baby girl.” His arms reached for you as you stood up to embrace him, the strong scent of his cologne filling your nostrils. The road might be home, but your old man never failed to make you feel welcome. “Heya, Papi.” “Congratulations, mijita.” He let you go, and held out a hand to his son-to-be. “And congratulations to you, too, Dean. You better take care of her.” “I will, sir.” “I mean it. I may not be as young as I used to be, and I’m not a wrestler by any means, but I can still kick your ass.” Behind them, you could hear the sound of Seth’s laughter at his stepdad’s words as your mother embraced you. “He’s not bluffing,” Seth stated. “I believe you, Mr. Lopez.” “Damn right ya do.” In all the excitement, you hadn’t realized that your phone was buzzing in your back pocket, the sound of Roman’s voice once again floating to your ears. [So did he propose yet or what?] You weren’t so lucky this time around. “Roman told you?” Oh, fuck.

[thefuckgallagher]

i’m just gonna rave about beauty and the beast right now because I just saw it:

(spoilers under the cut)

plot/character-

the changes to the plot/characters gave the film so many more layers

big one: WHY EVERYONE FORGETS THAT THE PRINCE EXISTS! it was always so confusing that no one seemed to notice that their monarch/prince wasn’t around anymore? so fixing that was amazing. it made the story so much more poignant that the enchantress made everyone forget about him. it felt so much more isolating and made it so much harder for him to break the curse.

also i really liked how they separated families, like mrs. potts and her husband. like, the other world did exist. and it connected to the beginning when belle asks “monsieur john” (AKA MR. POTTS) if he has lost something *again* and he says “i believe i have but i can’t remember what” - HIS FAMILY. HE LOST HIS FAMILY. 

also in general the town was so well created! it made so much sense historically too, like them hating belle for her intelligence and her trying to teach girls to read. historically, that’s a scary amount of power for a woman, especially peasants/non-royalty

this also gave a more clear explanation to why belle was so ostracized from the town. educated women would have been scary in that era, especially because of the widespread illiteracy (see: lefou). then, it also made her connect more to adam because of their shared interest in reading as an escape from a world that rejected them

also the layers given to the town people. not everyone is bad. there were some people who were portrayed as just “evil” like gaston, but then some who originally try for justice and fairness but fail, like mr. potts, then some who stayed good like the priest

gaston- gaston was so much less cartoonish than the animated version but he’s so believable. first they made him an army captain from a war that was presumably won by the way he talks about it. that automatically gives him power in the town. then you understand why people look to him so much. he also is more cunning in the way he uses maurice to get to belle, making him scary. then, the way he manipulates the town both to send maurice away and to follow him to kill the beast. so relevant when powerful white men manipulate things to get people to listen to what they want. and he knows how powerful he is.

congruently, i love that they didn’t make maurice a crazy old man. instead, he was a sad widower and an artist. it made it more poignant that originally, people didn’t think that he was crazy but gaston convinced them

i also really liked that belle just asked for a rose when her father left and he tried to steal one for her. great hat-tip to the original fairytale!

overall, as i briefly touched on before, i felt like the relationship between belle and the beast was so much more believable for so so many reasons (included the aforementioned reading/escapism)

i love the story line about the mothers. with belle, it was more of a fill in to explain why she didn’t have a mother- with a great historical reference of the plague. and, why someone like the maurice they created and belle were stuck in that town. then it also helped her connect to the beast who also lost his mother. 

the death of prince adam’s mother was totally different. he didn’t have a loving father like belle. instead, he was raised by a cruel man, probably without love. so when he got older, he filled his palace with beautiful things to replace love. he sings in “evermore”: “i never needed anybody in my life, i learned the truth too late,” demonstrating how even though the palace was filled with people, they were more like things to him as he couldn’t feel love. but he wasn’t always like that, being raised by his father made him that way, giving a strong avenue for redemption. i love how the costumes back that up because in the beginning everything is gaudy and over the top with the french wigs and makeup, but then at the end everything looks more simple and light because the real beauty came from within (sappy, yes, i know). 

“I’M NOT A BEAST”- loved that he put gaston down and just told him to leave. then gaston proves that he’s the beast because he fucking shoots adam 3 times... then the crumbling castle kills him

and i love that belle stayed because of the kindness of the servants and their guilt at failing the prince and allowing him to become a beast. [kindness, if you didn’t notice is super big with disney films]

overall the characters all had so many more layers than their animated counterparts and they were so easy to really feel for (esp. the beast)

on feminism: was this new belle a feminist icon? not so much? i mean she was different than the original, in good, progressive ways but the constraints of the story and the time period kind of hinder a full progression to what we’d call a liberated women in the 21st century. she still takes care of her father (which despite what others say, there’s no problem with...), really just goes from her father’s house to her husband’s, and needs maurice to protect her from gaston. shown by how he gets in the way... but she is a more 3 dimensional character in this version but i appreciate disney’s attempt! and emma watson as a person.

gay-

i don’t really like that they used the queer story line for comedy

but i did some things about it:

gaston using lefou’s attraction to benefit himself

the end where lefou gets out from under the spell and is actually a good person. lefou actually has a conscience in this one and slowly begins to realize it (i.e. not wanting to leave maurice for dead and his line in “the mob song”: “there’s a beast running wild, there’s no question. but i feel the wrong monster’s released”), ending in him being smashed by a piano and left by gaston. the spell lifted and lefou was actually good.  

history-

loved the line in be our guest when lumiere says “after all miss, this is france!” and then the knife chops down #historynerd

loved the asylum vs. hospital comments

loved that she wasn’t just taking books from a bookstore but it was a church that had books that she could borrow

music-

alright here is where my few negative things about this movie come in

emma watson- not a great singer, yeah they used autotune but in our entertainment industry it’s not cool to use playback singers like bollywood does soooo what to do when someone is otherwise great for a role? overall, not as good as paige o’hara but good enough not to impact the movie

dan stevens- good enough singer for evermore, and i was overall pretty cool with him singing

emma thompson- as much as i love everything about her and her voice, you can’t really beat angela lansbury for “beauty and the beast”

audra mcdonald- slay.

but i really liked the reprise of “beauty and the beast” at the very end. especially the new verse and the ensemble at the end. cried so hard.

“day in the sun” worked better for the film than “human again” would have but it wasn’t a great stand-alone

"EVERMORE”. y’all can gripe about why they didn’t just use “if i can’t love her” all you want, but “evermore” was beautiful and fit the new beast character they created so much better. i cried so hard. 

josh gad singing “gaston” is bae

luke evans also killed it

and i was happy with ewan mcgregor too

random-

attempts at diversity? good job disney. you tried, and definitely improved. the ensemble was not all white people (plus plumette and madame) garderobe)

lol @ cogsworth’s wife(?)

the transformation: love that they did a lot of shot-for-shot remakes i.e. the hand transforming and the foot...

okay so idk if this influenced anything- but i feel like the enchantress in this film reminded me of the genre of greek myth called theoxeny by the way she stayed in the town as agathe. (theoxeny is when gods disguise themselves to test people’s hospitality and then punish them if they suck). everyone treats agathe like shit besides maurice so she saves him. then she’s comes back to change the beast back. 

the end when she asks him to grow a beard was slightly creepy... funny but ew...

i love the prevalence of roses throughout (the rattle, stealing the rose, etc.)

i also love how the petals falling makes the castle crumble more and more. awesome.

i’m sure i had more feelings... but this is long enough lol