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lorenfangor · 3 years

Note

I heard that #40 was super homophobic :/ so I skipped it. But now your fic is making me want to give it a try. How problematic is it? Are the characters worth it?

Okay.

Let’s talk about #40.

The plot of The Other (a Marco POV) is that Marco sees an Andalite on a video tape sent in to some Unsolved Mysteries-esque TV show, and he assumes it’s Ax and hauls ass to save him from being captured. Ax, being Ax, has videotaped the show, and they pull it up and Tobias uses his hawk eyes to figure out that it’s not Ax, it’s another Andalite - one without a tailblade. Ax is appalled at the presence of this vecol (an Andalite word for a disabled person) and we find out that he and others of his species have deep ingrained prejudices against at least some kinds of disabled people.

Despite this, Marco and Ax go looking for the Andalite in question because he’s been spotted by national TV, and they meet a second one, named Gafinilan-Estrif-Valad. The vecol is Mertil-Iscar-Elmand, a former fighter pilot with a reputation and Gafinilan’s coded-gay life partner. The two of them have been on Earth since book 1; they crashed their fighters on the planet and have been trapped there thanks to the GalaxyTree going down. Gafinilan has adopted a human cover, a physics professor, and they’ve been living in secret ever since.

Thanks to that tape, Mertil has been captured by Visser Three, and he’s not morph-capable so he can’t escape. Gafinilan wants to trade the leader of the “Andalite Bandits” to the Yeerks to get his boyfriend back; he can’t fight to free Mertil because he’s terminally ill with a genetic disorder that will eventually kill him, and (it’s implied that) the Yeerks aren’t interested in disabled hosts, even disabled Andalite ones. Despite Ax’s ableism, the Animorphs agree to work with Gafinilan and free Mertil, and they’re successful. Marco ends the book talking about how there are all kinds of prejudices you’ll have to face and boxes that people will put you in, and you can’t necessarily escape them even if they’re reductive and inaccurate, but you can still live your life with pride.

So now that I’ve explained the plot, I’m gonna come out the gate saying that I love this book. I love it wholeheartedly, I love Marco’s narration, I love Ax having to deal with Andalite society’s ableism, I love these characters, and as a disabled lesbian I don’t find these disabled gays to be inherently Bad Rep.

that’s of course just my opinion and it doesn’t overshadow other issues that people might have? but at the same time, I don’t like the seemingly-common narrative that this book is all bad all the time, and I want to offer up a different read.To that end, I’m going to go point by point through some of the criticisms and common complaints that I’ve seen across the fandom over the years.

“Mertil and Gafinilan were put on a bus after one appearance because they were gay!”

this is one I’m going to have to disagree with hardcore. I talked about this yesterday, but in Animorphs there are a lot of characters or ideas that only get introduced once or twice and then get written off or dropped - in order off the top of my head, #11 (the Amazon trip), #16 (Fenestre and his cannibalism), #17 (the oatmeal), #18 (the hint of Yeerks doing genetic experiments in the hospital basement), #24/#39/#42 (the Helmacrons’ ability to detect morphing tech), #25 (the Venber), #28 (experiments with limiting brain function through drugs), #34 (the Hork-Bajir homeworld being retaken, the Ixcila procedure), #36 (the Nartec), #41 (Jake’s Bad Future Dream), and #44 (the Aboriginal people Cassie meets in Australia) all feature things that either seem to exist just for the sake of having a particular trope explored Animorphs-style or to feature an idea for One Single Book.

This is a series that’s episodic and has a very limited overall story arc because of how children’s literature in the 90s was structured - these books are closer to The Saddle Club, Sweet Valley High, Animal Ark, or The Baby-Sitters’ Club than they are to Harry Potter or A Series of Unfortunate Events. Mertil and Gafinilan don’t get to be in more than one book because they’re not established in the main cast or the supporting cast, I don’t think that it’s solely got anything to do with their being gay.

“Gafinilan has AIDS, this is a book about AIDS, and that’s homophobic!”

Okay, this is… hard. First, yes, Gafinilan does have a terminal illness. Yes, Gafinilan is gay. No, Soola’s Disease is not AIDS.

I have two responses to this, and I’ll attack them in order of their occurrence in my thought. First, there’s coded AIDS diseases all over genre fiction, especially genre fiction from that era, because the AIDS epidemic made a massive impact on public life and fundamentally changed both how the public perceived illness and queerness and how queer people themselves experienced it. I was too young to live through it, but my dad’s college roommate was out, and my dad himself has a lot of friends who he just ceases to talk about if the conversation gets past 1986 or so - this was devastating and it got examined in art for more reasons than “gay people all have AIDS”, and I dislike the implication that the only reason it could ever appear was as a tired stereotype or a message that Being Queer Means Death. Gafinilan is kind, fond of flowers, and fond of children - he’s multifaceted, and he’s got a terminal illness. Those kinds of people really exist, and they aren’t Bad Rep.

Second off, Soola’s Disease? Really isn’t AIDS. It’s a congenital genetic illness that develops over time, cannot be transmitted, and does not carry a serious stigma the way AIDS did. Gafinilan also has access to a cure - he could become a nothlit and no longer be afflicted by it, even if it’s considered somewhat dishonorable to go nothlit to escape that way. That’s not AIDS, and in fact at no point in my read and rereads did I assume that his having a terminal illness was supposed to be a commentary on homosexuality until I found out that other people were assuming it.

“Mertil losing his tail means he’s lost his masculinity, and that’s bad because he’s gay! That’s homophobic!”

so this is another one I’ve gotta hardcore disagree with, because while Mertil is one of two Very Obviously Queer Characters, he’s not the only character who loses something fundamental about himself, or even loses access to sexual and/or romantic capability in ways he was familiar with.

Tobias and Arbron both get ripped out of their ordinary normal lives by going nothlit in bad situations, and while they both wind up finding fulfillment and freedom despite that, it’s still traumatic, even more for Arbron I’d say than for Tobias. And on a psychological level, none of the main cast is left unmarked or free of trauma or free of deep change thanks to the bad things that have happened to them - they’re no less fundamentally altered than Mertil, even if it’s mental rather than physical. And yes, tail loss is equated with castration or emasculation, but that doesn’t automatically mean Mertil suffering it is tied to his homosexuality and therefore the takeaway we’re intended to have is “Being gay is tragic and makes you less of a man”. This is a series where bad shit happens to everyone, and enduring losses that take away things central to one’s self-conception or identity or body is just part of the story.

Also, frankly? Plenty of IRL disabled people have to grapple with a loss of sexual function, and again, they’re not Bad Rep just because they’re messy.

“Andalite society is confusingly written in this book, and the disability aspects are clearly just a coverup for the gay stuff!”

Andalite society is canonically sexist, a bit exceptionalist and prejudiced in their own favor, and pretty contradictory and often challenged internally on its own norms. In essence, it’s a pretty ordinary society, and they’re really realistic as sci-fi races go. It makes sense from that perspective that Andalites would tolerate scarring or a lost stalk eye or a lost skull eye, but not tolerate serious injuries that significantly impact your perceived quality of life. Ableism is like that - it’s not one-size-fits-all. I look at Ax’s reactions and I see a lot of my own family and friends’ behaviors - this vibes with my understanding of prejudice, you know?

“Mertil and Gafinilan have a tragic ending, which means the story is saying that being gay dooms you to tragedy!”

Mertil and Gafinilan have the best possible ending that they could ask for? They are victims of the war, they are suffering because of the war, they get the same cocktail of trauma and damage that every other soldier gets. But unlike Jake and Tobias and Marco, unlike Elfangor, unlike Aximili? Their ending comes in peace, in their own home. Gafinilan isn’t dying alone, he’s got the love of his life with him. Mertil isn’t going to be as isolated anymore, he’s got Marco for a friend. Animorphs is a tragedy, it’s not a happy story, it’s not something that guarantees a beautiful sunshine-and-roses ending for everyone, and I love tragedy, and so I will fight for this story. Yes, it hurts. Yes, it deserved better. But it’s not less meaningful just because it’s sad. Nobody is entitled to anything in this book, and it’s just as true for these two as it is for anyone else.

“It’s not cool that the only canonically gay characters in this series don’t get to be happy and trauma-free and unblemished Good Rep!”

This is one I can kind of understand, and I’ll give some ground to it, because it is sucky. The only thing I’ll say is that I stand by my argument that nothing that happens to Mertil and Gafinilan is unusual compared to what happens to the rest of the cast, and that their ending is way happier than Rachel and Tobias’s, or Jake and Cassie’s. But it’s a legitimate point of frustration, and the one argument I’ll say I agree has validity.

(Though, I also want to point out that I think there are plenty of equally queercoded characters in the story who aren’t Mertil and Gafinilan - Tobias, Rachel, Cassie, and Marco all get at least one or two moments that signal to me that they’re potentially LGBT+, not to mention Mr. Tidwell and Illim in #29 and their long-term domestic partnership. There’s no reason to assume that the only queer people here are those two aliens when Marco’s descriptions of Jake exist.)

“Marco uses slurs and reduces Gafinilan’s whole identity to his illness!”

Technically, yes, this is true, except putting it that way strips the whole passage of its context. Marco is discussing the boxes society puts you into, the ones you don’t have a choice about facing or escaping. He’s talking about negative stereotypes and reductive generalizations, he’s referring to them as bad things that you get inflicted upon you by an outside world or by friends who don’t know the whole story or the real you. The slurs he uses are real slurs that get thrown at people still, and they’re not okay, and the point is that they’re not okay but assholes are going to call you by them anyway. He ends by saying “you just have to learn to live with it”, and since this is coming from a fifteen-year-old Latino kid who we know is picked on by bullies for all sorts of reasons and who faces racism and homophobia? He knows what he’s talking about. He’s bitter about what’s been said and done, he’s not stating it like it’s a good thing.

Yes, absolutely, this speech is a product of its time, but it’s a product of its time that speaks of defiance and says “We aren’t what we’re said to be,” and in the year this was published? That’s a good message.

tl;dr The Other is good, actually, and Mertil and Gafinilan are incredible characters who deserve all the love they could possibly get.

#animorphs #animorphs meta #mertil/gafinilan #mertil #gafinilan #mertil-iscar-elmand #gafinilan-estrif-valad

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monochromemedic · 3 years

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I had been stuck in the Dark World for who knows how long. The days didn’t seem to matter down here. No sun, no moon, just the vibrant green grid that coated the sky that would twitch and surge with occasional frequency. When I first got here, I fought hard to get back to the surface, to fight for any sense of normalcy, for home but after a while the dream began to fade. The options began to run dry when compared to the dangers that surrounded me. And so I settled. I survived. I searched for food, begged for shelter from kind Darkners. I did what I had to to live. The Queen was not an option. Whispers from Darkners told me how I was just what she was looking for, that would help her expand her reign to the Light World. As much as that would probably help me, I didn’t want to ruin the lives of others for the chance to see my family, as much as I missed them with every passing minute. The sound of bustling cars and the blinding lights of neon signs stung my senses, my palms pressing into my eyes to drown out what I could. Damn it this place never slept did it? There was always something, some sort of noise. Whatever bags I had under my eyes were probably made cartoonishly drastic with the lack of pure rest I was getting. ‘Supose it was better then being dead... My body felt heavy, and I knew I’d have to find a place to rest or I’d fall asleep mid crossing of a road and get run over by one of those goofy cars I’d seen. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad... I recalled the time one of the car’s rear bumped into a fire hydrant (or at least I thought it was) and made a squeaking sound. The darkness of a certain alley called to me, the silence a sweet lullaby to the roaring around me. Was it dangerous? Oh yeah. Was it stupid? No shit. Was I going to do it? The shadows the engulfed me were perfect and if it wasn’t for the underlying stench of garbage it’d probably be ideal. Still beggars couldn’t be choosers and if tonight was good enough I would have to consider having this as my permanent sleeping spot. My back slid against the cool wall across from the dumpster, eyes half lidded as they read the advertisements littering above. Why the hell did the Queen have ads anyway, if she wanted she could monopolize any products she wanted... Despite the quiet I couldn’t shake the feeling that creeped down my spine. The presence of something other then myself around me. I tried to close my eyes, I was in the city after all. It’d be concerning if I didn’t feel like people were one second from crawling up my ass. Though I had to admit I didn’t expect to actually feel something begin to touch me. My eyes snapped open, elbow prodding into a blurry shape that yelped and tumbled backward, it’s grasp my on shoulder tearing a hole in my already worn shirt in the struggle. “Hey! What the hell?!” I barked, standing over the perpetrator. My shoulders slumped when I saw what looked to be a doll staring up at me with wide eyes, an over exaggerated smile permanently spread across it’s face. The creature’s jaw opened wider with a clack, it’s small body shooting upwards to stand on it’s small pointed feet. “WOAH WOAH WOAHAH- [Live worms]!” The darkner’s voice was deafeningly loud, a shrill tone that cut the air like newly sharpened blades. “ I THOUGHT YOU WERE [Roadkill]. NICE TO KNOW I WON’T BE [Sleeping with the fishes] T0NIGHT!!” Well he had a certain way of speaking that was obvious. What the hell was going on with him, he talked like he was constantly being cut of random clips of other people speaking. He talked like a youtube poop or any other shitpost that would randomly shove memes into them for a quick laugh. “You thought I was dead? I was just... I was... uh.” I looked around me, eyeing the dirt and debris. “I was... going to sleep... here.” Dammit, telling people I had to sleep in such ratty places were always a blow to the ego but I suppose it was better then saying ‘Oh I was just sitting down here to die’ The puppet shook his head and waltzed over to the dumpster, his small hand smacking the side with a sense of pride. “ [Finders keepers, losers weepers] HUMAN, YOU PICKED A GOOD SPOT. TOO BAD [so sadd] I GOT HERE FIRST. THOUGH FOR A DEAL I SUPPOSE I COULD [Share the love~]” “Got here first... what are you talking about?” The Darkner let out a laugh, distorted echoes filling the air as he leapt inside, a solitary hand popping out to beg me to come closer. This was a terrible idea, but despite my best judgement I followed, and witnessed what I could only describe to be a makeshift bed inside. The puppet laid on top of musty mats and raggedy rugs, a single stained pillow resting just beneath his head. My god was he living in here? The creature continued his laugh, lurching only a few inches away from my face. “ [Sweet deal] ISN’T IT? J3ALOUS, [baby]?” I shirked back, cheeks reddening at the tone of his last word. I was most defiantly not jealous, in fact I was filled with remorse, something his pride did not help with. “It’s... uh something. I guess this means I’ll have to find another alleyway um, sorry for bothering you-” “SPAMTON.” “What?” His hand shot out towards my chest, fingers wiggling for a handshake. “SP-SPA MTON G SPAMTON, [Number 1 rated salesmen 1997]” He announced, an extra flair of bravado laced his titled. His hand was surprisingly warm for what it was made of but nothing that would be described as body temperature. “Jenna. Also 1997.” “WHAT A YEAR. LISTEN LIGHT nER, I AM DEALSMAN [yes/no?]” “Um... y-yes? I don’t-” “THEN LET ME MAKE A DEAL YEAH? FOR ONLY [many] KROMER, YOU MAY STAY IN MY [Privately owned] ALLEY. IT’S A REAL [steal] YOU’RE ROBBING ME [deaf] HERE!” My brows furrowed as I searched his face for any context clues for what the hell he was trying to say. Kromer? What the fuck was ‘kromer’? The only thing I knew of currency down here was dark dollars not kromer... even if he did ask for dark dollars he didn’t name a price, he just said many. And the amount of dark dollars I had was zero. “Uh I don’t have kromer. I don’t even have dark dollars I’m kinda broke Spamton, in case you couldn’t tell from uh...” I trailed off realizing saying that sleeping in an alley wasn’t a very smart thing to say to someone who slept in an alley. He seemed surprised by my words, beginning to tug on my coat, flipping my pockets to see if I was really lying. I had to push his mitts off me a couple of times, to which he eventually got the idea the way his hands began to rub at his extended jaw. “NO KROMER... WHAT CAN YOU DO?” “What do you mean?” He seemed to sense my change in tone, his grin beginning to wobble nervously “[Whoopsie daisy!] LET ME START AGAIN. DO YOU HAVE A [trade]? A [skill] TO [Exchange for goods and services]?” he croaked. I eyed the ground, rubbing the back of my neck. What the hell was I good at again? “I mean, I can draw, I suppose...” “ARTIST? WOW OWOW!” Spamton’s face lit up before digging in the dumpster, pulling out a few napkins and a ball point pen and shoving them into my hands. “WHAT A [trade] TELL YOU WHAT. YOU DRAW A [one-of-a-kind masterpiece] AND YOU CAN STAY THE NIGHT!” “You’ll let me stay... if I draw something for you on this napkin. Am I getting that right?” The doll nodded feverishly, basically hovering over my shoulder as I played with the pen. This was certainly the weirdest way to pay someone that I could imagine... well no but one that was in the realm of reality. I had to ask Spamton to give me some space a few time, the feeling of his breath on my neck making me more then nervous as I drew. God he was like those kids in school that would ask for drawings but ten times worse with the amount of personal space he’d give you. Besides I needed something to draw and with nothing on the mind why not draw the most interesting thing in front of me. I held the finished doodle out to Spamton only to have it snatched out of my fingers so fast I swore we could have started a fire. “WOAH...” The puppet sank inside of the dumpster, his face softening as for once in what seemed like forever the alley way grew silent. “THIS IS... ME?” “Yeah. Sorry I didn’t know what to draw, you kind of put me on the spot. Besides everyone likes drawings of themselves right?” I shrugged, being pulled away from my thoughts by an overdramatic sniffle. Was he... crying? Not quite, just damn well close. Spamton’s shoulders quaked as a warm smile returned to his cheeks, slipping the napkin into his pocket with glee. “SO GOOD... THANK YOU.” “It’s really nothing, honestly that was a pretty shitty drawing.” “WHAT? YOU’RE [&#!^]ING ME! THAT WAS [BIG SHOT]” He was screaming again, hands gesturing wildly about. “It wasn’t but thank you. I wish I was better to be honest. I’m not very happy with my art, not at all.” I turned away from his gaze, unsure of why I was overcome by a choking sensation building my throat. Why the hell was I telling this stranger this sort of stuff anyway? I mean I could hazard a guess it was the fact that this was the longest conversation I had had with anyone since I had gotten down here but with how things were it could be some magic power the doll possessed to tell him my deepest darkest secrets. “YOU DON’T THINK THIS IS [Big?]” “No.” “WHY NOT?” “I don’t know. I just... I think it doesn’t look the way I want it to. Doesn’t look good to me, and I don’t know how to fix it. Which I guess is a little funny considering how long I’ve been drawing. Just keep... drawing and drawing and never improving, least not how I’d like. It’s just garbage to me.” Spamton’s face seemed to fall, his glasses fading to a dark inky black. “YOU FEEL? NO GOOD AT WHAT YOU DO? YOUR [passion]?” “Yeah.” A laugh ripped from his chest, his head lolling back with each chuckle. I felt my soul began to crack, a shame flooding my body with how hard he seemed to laugh. Did he find this funny? Humorous? I felt tears prick my eyes as I snapped my head back to glare at him, his head glitching back to stare back at me. “YOU’RE JUST LIKE ME, JENNA. A [slime] A REAL [slime]!” With a quick motion the puppet jumped to the ground, his hand resting against my arm as he spoke. “YOU’RE A REAL [BIG SHOT] YOU KNOW THAT? STAY AS LONG AS YOUR [Greasy little heart] DESIRES!” Well... that was unexpected. He’d really let me stay here as long as I want cause I was pathetic? Or did he just feel sorry for me? What was going on? And why was he calling me a slime... or us a slime? “Oh... uh thanks? I didn’t think I was being much of a big shot whatever that is but I apricate it. Really.” His head clacked with every little nod, leading me to a pile of cardboard boxes and patting them with the grace of a car salesman. “BEST [Seat in the house] ALL FOR YOU. [Night night forever]!” Spamton beamed, awkwardly swaying side to side before stumbling back to the dumpster a few inches away and crawling inside of it, much like a wild animal. I couldn’t help but laugh a little. This guy was weird. Kinda creepy but also kind of funny. I honestly couldn’t pinpoint a feeling on him but at least he didn’t want to hurt me just make weird ass deals and make me ‘big’. Did that mean famous? Was this guy so into my art he wanted to be some sort of manager? I rubbed my eyes and let out a yawn, the excitement of the day finally beginning to fade. God I forgot how tired I was, that little guy made me feel like I was gonna go into fight or flight. “Hey Spamton?” “YES?” his voice echoed from inside the metal container. “...Thank you.”

#self insert #spamton #vent #idk im just thinking #just wanted something to do

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westiec · 3 years

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June 3: Nie Mingjue

trans man Nie Mingjue, first time NieLan, and a little bonus trans!LWJ too

read on ao3

💙💗🤍💗💙

They had cautioned Nie Mingjue, his father and the healers, that students at the lectures might not be familiar with young men like him, that not all sects were as open-minded about such things. For the most part, it hadn't been an issue—the Lan Sect's strictures against gossip and immodesty in dress served to make the particulars of his body irrelevant as compared to his obvious mastery of the saber or his apparently less-obvious talents in the classroom.

(He might prefer martial training, but the first son of Qinghe could hardly allow himself to be found lacking in any of the Six Arts. He would, if pressed, admit that he had a very poor ear for music, but he made up for it by extra diligence in other pursuits.)

So it wasn't until he found himself in a secluded meadow in the back hills, trading kisses with Lan Xichen, that Nie Mingjue even thought to mention it.

"Ah, Xichen," he said, running his nose against the edge of a graceful ear. (Even Lan Xichen's ears were graceful!) "Forgive my presumptuousness, but if you were thinking of taking my robes off, there's something you should know."

"Nothing to forgive," Lan Xichen insisted. He gave another kiss to Nie Mingjue's neck, then sat back, a twinkle in his dark eyes. "I've been thinking about it for some time and hoped you were too."

Nie Mingjue could feel himself blushing. "Awfully bold for a Lan," he muttered.

"Awfully shy for a Nie," Lan Xichen countered, smiling wide and guileless. He wrapped a hand around Nie Mingjue's wrist and rubbed soothing circles with his thumb. "We don't have to if you're not comfortable, you know. I'm more than happy with your kisses."

NMJ shook his head. "It's not that. I just... might not be what you're expecting." Lan Xichen nodded for him to continue, not rushing him, merely patient and attentive. Nie Mingjue took a deep breath and tried to explain this for the first time to anyone outside his family. "They thought I would be a girl, when I was born."

Lan Xichen's face lit with understanding. "Oh, you're like—" he cut himself off with an apologetic shake of his head— "ah, someone else I know." He raised Nie Mingjue's hand to his lips and placed a kiss in the palm. "Thank you for telling me. Please let me know if I do or say anything wrong."

"You haven't yet," Nie Mingjue promised, heart warming in Lan Xichen's gentle understanding. "Did you still want to...?"

"As long as you still do, yes," Lan Xichen said eagerly, blushing a little for the first time. "I haven't done this with anyone before, so you'll have to show me what you like."

"We'll figure it out together, then," Nie Mingjue said and pulled Lan Xichen in for another heated kiss.

[Some NSFW/🔞 content in this one under the cut! Words used for NMJ are: folds, erection, cock; NMJ's chest is not mentioned/described, and he does not experience dysphoria here.]

Nie Mingjue liked Lan Xichen's lips, they discovered, over his collarbones and stomach and hipbones. He liked the sounds Lan Xichen made when he took him in hand, his cock jerking in Nie Mingjue's fist.

He liked when Lan Xichen rubbed long, elegant fingers along Nie Mingjue's folds in return, stroking and tugging at his own erection.

He especially liked it when Lan Xichen whispered sweetly in his ear how hard and hot and eager his cock felt.

They brought each other off like that, mouths hot and hungry against skin and hands exploring new territory, new ways to tease and touch.

After, Nie Mingjue swiped his fingers through the mess Lan Xichen had left on his hip and brought them to his mouth, smacking thoughtfully. "Mine tastes better," he decided. "Must be all those medicinal herbs you Lans eat."

Lan Xichen laughed and showily licked his own fingers clean. "I would happily taste Mingjue-ge more directly next time, if he would like," he said, and Nie Mingjue felt his cheeks burn.

"They told me you Lans would be very prim and private, you know," he said, grinning over at him.

Lan Xichen made a show of looking around, then sniffed, primly. "I don't see anyone else, seems private enough to me." Nie Mingjue laughed and tugged Lan Xichen in for another kiss.

They dressed and did their best to set each other's hair back in order, and Lan Xichen took Nie Mingjue's hand as they began walking back towards the main areas of Cloud Recesses.

"You're right that we are private about things," Lan Xichen said suddenly, "but I know it can be helpful to know someone who understands, sometimes. The person I mentioned before, would you be willing to talk to him? Not about—" he gestured between them, cheeks pinking again "—this, of course, just, in general."

Nie Mingjue consisered, then nodded. He had people to talk to at home—an older cousin, some of the healers—about cultivating his body the way that felt right, meditations, foods, ways to use his qi. His cousin had even figured out how to grow a moustache. He wondered if Lan Xichen would enjoy kissing him with one? Maybe he'd surprise him...

(There was only one person Nie Mingjue could think of for whom Lan Xichen would ask such a personal favor, so he wasn't terribly surprised when, a few days later, Lan Wangji knocked on his door.

He was quiet as ever, but the chubby-cheeked kid he remembered was replaced with the gawky beginnings of long limbs and that tall stature shared by so many of the Lans. He'll look just like Xichen in a few years, Nie Mingjue thought.

"Wangji-di!" he said aloud. "You're looking so grown up! Come in, come in. I understand we might have some things in common...")

Pride Snippets Masterpost!

#PrideMonthSnippets #Nie Mingjue #trans nie mingjue #Lan Xichen #Lan Wangji #trans lan wangji #nielan #first time #coming out #westie writes #the untamed #mdzs

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stxleslyds · 3 years

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Red Hood and the lost art of telling Joker to shup up.

Okay, I know that I talked about Jason and Joker in a recent post but this is something different, I promise.

I really want to talk about how different Jason has been written since UtRH when it comes to him confronting Joker. Jason hasn’t been put in that position a lot but the times that he has, he lets Joker talk for far too long and actually pays attention to whatever he has to say.

The Jason vs Joker thing is basic in on itself and letting Joker talk isn’t exactly the problem here, the real problem is Jason letting Joker’s thoughts shape his future thoughts and decisions, I do understand that that’s exactly what writers want though, they want to build the problematic of: “Jason is just like Joker and the fact that he uses the name Red Hood only proves that Joker made who Jason is now”.

But the thing is that THAT problem is overdone at this point and the only time it worked was the first time it was brought up and it worked because Jason shut the Joker down.

Let’s see all the times (that I remember) the Joker and Jason have had a little chat and/or the times Joker’s words actually influence Jason’s thinking and decision making.

Under the Red Hood – Batman (1940) #649

This is the first real confrontation we get to see between Jason and Joker after Jason’s death and it is beautiful. It's absolutely amazingly written, Joker goes on and on forever about how he killed Jason about how Jason is just as bad as him but that he is also just like Batman because he hasn’t killed him yet.

“You let me live after everything I did, you couldn’t pop my balloon. You just couldn’t. The apple doesn’t tumble too far from the paterfamilias. You are just like daddy-kins”

Jason lets him talk, yes. But he absolutely destroys Joker with what he tells him next.

“You couldn’t be more wrong about me. If right were a country on earth you’d be circling on the edge of the milky way. Yeah, I let you live but like always, every damned minute of your addled, posturing, psychopathic life, you think this is about you. You’re a worm. I’ve pitched you on a hook and dropped you into the brine. And I will beat the hell out of you Pagliacci because it was too much fun not to.”

“Listen to me Joker, I’m not you. I´m nothing like you. I know what I do and I know why I do it. You, you are, clinically speaking, a whack-job. But I know a secret, a good one.”

“You are not nearly as crazy as you would like us all to believe or even as crazy as you would like to believe. It just makes it easier to justify every sick monstrous thing you’ve ever done when you play the part of the mad clown. You are crazy, bubba, but you ain’t that crazy. Look at that. I wiped a smile off of Joker’s face. I have been waiting a long time for that.”

Everything about this is perfect, Jason gives Joker no room to mess with him. Whatever the Joker had planned on saying he had to eat because Jason wasn’t playing games and he was ready for any kind of lie the Joker had ready to tell. This is Jason Todd. He won’t let the Joker get under his skin because he knows the Joker and he, also, knows better.

Red Hood and the Outlaws (2011) #15

Here Jason comes across Joker during the “Death of the Family” event. In this issue the Joker has information about all of the members of the “Batfamily” and he uses that to mess around with each one of them, in Jason’s case he insinuates that he was present in very specific moments of his life when Jason’s father got shot, when his mother overdosed and when he was on his own before joining Batman.

Jason doesn’t quite believe that Joker was there but as the reader, we can see this sort of sense of doubt in Jason. He hesitates a few times before resolving that the Joker is playing with him.

But as far as this issue goes let’s just say that what the Joker says doesn’t get to Jason, this changes though in the issue that follows up this story.

Teen Titans (2011) #16

This is where that story continues and where Jason starts to buy the story that Joker is selling.

Joker convinces Jason that he has his father and Tim’s father and that the only way for Jason (or Tim) to save their dads is by killing the other (Jason or Tim). Tim doesn’t believe it but Jason is ready to shoot Tim almost immediately.

However, Jason changes his mind about killing Tim just as Tim comes up with a plan for them to not actually have to kill each other. Here is where Lobdell’s writing shows all of its flaws, Lobdell is so desperate to show that Jason and Tim are besties that he forgets that Jason had no reason to stop trying to kill Tim to save his shit father because it is later revealed that Jason truly believed that Joker had found his father and had him captive. It wasn’t until Tim explained his thought process as to why those men weren’t their dads that Jason just goes “you realize, of course, the only reason I didn’t kill you right off is that I knew your big brain will figure out some way out of this” HA, nice save Lobdell but I see right through your bullshit.

Jason bought what the Joker was selling and that is the beginning of Jason’s downgrade when it comes to not playing Joker’s games.

Red Hood and the Outlaws (2011) #17

Well, in this issue Lobdell goes back to Jason kinda not believing what Joker told him, and Jason asks Bruce of all people if he thinks the Joker truly “made him or not”. Bruce says that he doesn’t believe that and that he didn’t have anything to do with the man that Jason has become either. For some reason, Jason is actually happy with what Bruce said and for a couple of moments, Jason goes back to being sure that the Joker knows nothing and that he is his own man.

It doesn’t last long though. At the very end of the issue, the trap that Joker had set up in Jason’s helmet triggers and Jason gets his face fucked up with acid or something.

But that’s not all because a hologram of Joker has something to say: “you were supposed to be my masterpiece from start to finish. But you were too stubborn to stay dead. So here is what we are going to do… You’re so determined to be your own man? Fine, let’s start with a clean slate”.

Basically, the Joker insinuates once more that he had something to do with who Jason was supposed to become and that Jason isn’t truly “his own man”, This is all a setup for a very dense storyline that will be continued in this run later.

Red Hood and the Outlaws (2011) #18

In this issue, Jason is in a coma after he is dosed with that gas in the previous issue. The Joker isn’t really present in this issue but he does make an appearance as part of Jason’s “nightmare” while he is unconscious.

That’s not all though, Jason has an illusion of Ducra (someone that he appreciates a lot), telling him that “after you left the All-Castle after you went back to the world you continued to let your life be defined by the actions of that man. You became a killer, lashing out at people who may or may not have deserved it. Eventually, you will hurt all those you have cared for. In that way, how are you any different from the Joker?”.

In this statement, there is a lot of wrongs that can come from two places, either bad writing on Lobdell’s part or just Ducra telling lies as a plot point.

“Let your life be defined by the actions of that man” is a sentence that horribly simplifies Jason’s thinking during the events of UtRH, because while he did resent the Joker, his real problem was with Bruce who had not avenged his death by killing the Joker himself. Also, Jason was doing other things back then, like being a pain in the ass for Black Mask and disrupting the drug trade in Gotham as well as trying to control the drug dealing to children. So that little sentence is just a gross misinterpretation of the true events which means that Ducra was wrong, and “she” continues to be wrong when she says that there might be no difference between Jason and Joker.

Luckily Jason thinks the same because he tells “Ducra”: “…don’t you dare compare me to that monster Ducra. I am nothing like the Joker! Nothing!”

Once again please don’t be fooled by Jason’s thinking because in the next issue it turns around really fast and really bad.

Red Hood and the Outlaws (2011) #19

Just a heads up this issue has a change of writer, Lobdell isn’t writing this arc, the writer that gives us this hellish story arc is James Tynion IV.

All that talk about Jason not being affected or not believing what the Joker told him is yeeted out of the window and it’s not a fun ride.

In this issue, Roy and Kory find a Jason that doesn’t know who they are or who he, himself, is. This is because S’aru that little floaty little shit took his memories away after Jason asked him to do so, well Jason asked S’aru to erase every memory that darkness has touched (Joker) and he does that. But him doing that is apparently erasing everything which, holy shit, how messed up is that?

But let’s take a look at what Jason says before he gets his memories taken away: “Not only did the Joker almost take my face, but he tells me he might have manipulated my entire life from the beginning! Even the good is tainted by him now. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t have that kind of doubt. If you take it away, I can go on living. I can keep fighting”. So, yeah that was a pretty emo speech. But the thing here is that if Jason is asking this dude to erase every memory that has been tainted by the Joker and he erases all of them then we might be facing one of two situations, either Joker has been messing up with Jason’s life from the beginning or S’aru is just a little bitch.

We will later find out in #20 that S’aru and Ducra planned the whole thing, meaning that they took all of his memories for ulterior motives not because the Joker had actually tainted all of them.

For many issues Jason has no memories and now that I am revisiting these issues, I now remember the twisted and completely insane plot they came up with for the “League of Assassins” and Jason being the “Chosen One”, everything was happening in this run, my god, it's like they wanted Jason to be the center of every single trope in writing history.

It’s in issue #26 that Jason asks for his memories back but the Joker having tainted his memories or not isn’t important anymore to anyone, including the writer (because he is too focused on telling this messy story), Jason (because he has enough problems at the moment) and the reader (because this book makes zero sense and it changes the story and motivations every single issue).

But there is another truth to be revealed in the next issue.

Red Hood and the Outlaws (2011) #27

Jason has planned along Ducra and S’aru to give up all of his memories to be cleansed so he could defeat Ra’s Al Ghul. But (there is always a but) Ducra says this: “Your greatest enemy returned and nearly took your face away from you. And in the process, shook your sense of identity to the core” “The final battle here will take place in the Well of Sins, and with all the doubt and fear clouding your mind, it would eat you whole”.

So yeah, now we have confirmation from Ducra that Jason had indeed let what the Joker told him cloud his sense of self and made him doubt who he was and if he really was in control.

All that back and forth for these many issues just to say, yes, Jason let Joker’s words affect him.

So here it is, let Joker get in Jason’s head to build the plot of a story, fantastic, the story was a mess because it had so much information, the mischaracterizations of Roy and Kory were at their maximum potential, and in this particular story arc not only are the events of Red Hood: The Lost Days officially erased from Jason’s canon but something quite out there is added to Jason’s canon from before he was even Robin (that’s a whole different story that I won’t be talking about here).

What an insane ride this arc was. Definitely not the kind of story I enjoy in a Red Hood book but that’s just my preference.

*This whole arc was written by James Tynion IV.

Red Hood/Arsenal #11

Joker is dead during the events of this run but the person who has something to say to Jason about how the Joker made the person that he is now is Duela Dent (“Joker’s daughter”, she isn’t his daughter she just found Joker’s face somewhere and she puts it on and “becomes” crazy, she is an incredibly weird character).

She says this, “You’re a lot like dad in that way” to which Jason says “He is not my father. He’s not even your father” but Duela continues by saying. “You’re kidding yourself if you genuinely believe that. Yeah, he took your life but look what you got in its place, you ingrate. You got your freedom. You were reborn.”

Jason doesn’t fall for it or anything of the sort but once again writers are bringing up the Joker as the maker of the Red Hood and “suggesting” that what Jason has been doing and who he has become is all thanks to Joker. The idea of Jason having no free will is still present in this narrative, even when Jason doesn’t believe it.

Red Hood/Arsenal #12

I talked too soon because in this issue Jason is having some weird thoughts.

“Funny, isn’t it, so easy to call Duela “crazy” because she wears a dead man’s face. Because isn’t that what I’m doing? Before he was the Joker, he was the Red Hood. So maybe the line between men and the Joker’s daughter is a lot thinner than I’d like to admit.”

Here he is comparing himself to Duela and to the Joker to an extent, writers often bring up the fact that Jason uses the code name that his killer once had and they have people or Jason himself questioning why he uses that name.

Personally, I don’t think there is much to build from it (at least not from the perspective of Lost Days and UtRH), it was just a joke, a morbid one if you will. He wears the mantle of the person that destroys Gotham and fills its people with fear while he is trying to control the city’s drug trade and trying to keep the people safe in his own way. And the way he wanted to do it is almost the complete opposite of the way that Batman does things.

I just think that he is being ironic and acidic about the whole thing. He has obviously moved on from the fact that Joker killed him but he has issues with the fact that Batman has yet another child working with him while the Joker is still alive. And Jason really wanted to make Bruce suffer, so him taking the name and a similar appearance to how the joker used to look is also done to get a reaction from Bruce.

I really don’t think there is any sort of connection to make between Jason and Joker beyond that, much like there is no connection between the name Nightwing and the Court of Owls. Even though Lincoln March tried to convince Dick Grayson that he chose the name Nightwing because Owls fly at night and that meant that he was supposed to become a Talon and all that Dick still didn’t believe it because he knew why he chose that name and no one can twist his reason.

Red Hood and the Outlaws (2016) #10

Finally, I can stop re-reading New 52 books, I don’t enjoy it but I have to do it if I want to talk/complain about stuff.

This one is a little different because while Jason does talk with the Joker, the Joker isn’t really there he is just part of Jason’s imagination just like the Robin Jason that he is also seeing.

In this story, Jason is helping Artemis discover who she is but he gets captured in Qurac, yup that place, and worst of all from where he is being held, he can see the place where he died. All of that is helping Jason have some very vivid memories/illusions. He does actively hold a conversation with the imaginary Joker and Robin Jason though, and he is also having a lot of thoughts that let us know how the Joker affects Jason.

“This is why it was stupid of me to come back to Qurac. Even to help Artemis, even if I thought I could handle it. Physically, I am alone, but in my head? I’m drowning in memories of the worst day of what was my very short life. The day I was murdered.”

That’s what Jason is thinking but what I write next is what Jason’s saying as he talks to the imaginary Joker.

“Not interested in replaying this over again, like I have every night of my life since it happened Joker”

So, we are told that Jason thinks about that day very often, the Joker might not be involved much in Jason’s books but he definitely has a bigger role inside of Jason’s head. They chat for a bit up until Jason decides to “kill” the Joker, he knows, of course, that it is not real but it does give him satisfaction. (If only they would have let Jason actually kill the clown for real, or at the very least chase him just to show the reader that Jason does actually want to finish the job since the Bat won’t do it himself).

Having said all that, Joker’s imaginary death doesn’t last long because Jason is trapped in his mind and the Joker is basically functioning on a loop inside of it.

That is where the problem lies in this issue because Jason is letting us know that he is still heavily influenced by what happened that day and that he hasn’t been able to walk away from it. But once more that’s not the worst thing, because all of these thoughts have led Jason to think that he (in the present and as a fifteen-year-old) is the one to blame for having ended up dead. Yeah, it is messed up.

This is what Jason says to imaginary Robin Jason, “He is never going to die, Jason. Not here. Not in my mind, not if at some point I don’t stand up and walk away from my memories. From you.”

This is a major downgrade, from the Jason that we had in UtRH because that Jason had moved on from the fact that he had been killed what he was looking for was for Batman to avenge his death. He had other things in mind as well, like I said before in this post Jason had a lot of things going on, killing Joker wasn’t his only plan.

And this situation (written by Lobdell) is also very different from what was going on in New 52 where Jason being influenced by the Joker was used to build a plot. This is just a writer letting us know that this “new version” of Jason hasn’t worked out his problems when it comes to his death and his killer. That means that we are going backward.

After he realizes that he was unconscious all that time and that he was being tortured he does get his shit together in order to get out of captivity and go help Artemis.

The Joker and that whole thing that happened in his mind aren’t mentioned again, it was just for the reader to know that Rebirth Jason has unsolved issues with his death.

Batman: Three Jokers #1

Oh yes, here we are, we have arrived to that dreaded book, awful writing gorgeous art. In this book, the “Joker made Jason as he is now” trope is at its full potential; Johns drives this hellish truck of a book at full speed into our homes and then ends it by giving us one of the worst takes on Jason Todd’s characterization ever.

But first, let’s talk about the Joker and Jason interaction in the first issue. As Jason and Barbara are left alone with the Joker that they came across moments ago the Joker begins talking because that’s what he does.

He says this, “I’m the loop-de-loop, the hamster-wheel-of-doom. The cycle of pain each one of you is trapped in. Take “Red Hood” here, for example. Have you ever wondered why he uses my former moniker? Who in their right mind would take on the identity of their killer? Am I right?”

He is obviously being a little shit on purpose and is waiting to see if somebody will take the bait. Jason is the first to talk and he says this: “I took it because I’m owning what you did to me. You made me into this. I will be your destruction”.

Congratulations Jason, you took the bait, and now Barbara will fight with you over it.

Jason raises his gun to “break the cycle” and Barbara is like “please don’t do it” and boy is Joker having the time of his life! Both of these idiots are playing his game, Johns really did both Jason and Barbara dirty with this.

Here is where THE problem with letting the Joker talk is. This Joker got under Jason’s skin in seconds and Barbara did nothing while it happened.

This is what the Joker had to say. “Let’s look at the facts here bat-people. I bashed this boy’s skull in. I killed this Robin” to which Jason says “You didn’t kill me, you only made me stronger” which is weird because the Joker did kill him so I don’t know what kinda comeback that was supposed to be but Joker wasn’t done because he continues by saying “Yes, you crawled from the shallow grave I left you in. You lived on to fight another day. Hurrah! You survived because of your tenacity! Or maybe… maybe I beat you to a bloody mess… I took you right to the edge… because I wanted to leave you alive.”

Great that’s where the clown is going, just fantastic, more of the “I made you” but that’s not all because the Joker tells Jason that him having hurt Jason wasn’t because he didn’t like Jason, it was all about Batman, Jason doesn’t matter.

But that’s not the worse thing that was written in this awful book, Geoff Johns seems to have felt that the trauma that Jason went through in the original “Death in the Family” story wasn’t enough because he decided to add something new.

That’s why the Joker says this next, “Do you recall what you said to me while I was breaking your head in with that crowbar? As your blood streamed into your eyes and your skull cracked? Because I cherish those words. I’ll always cherish them. ‘Please stop! Please! If you let me live, I’ll do anything you say. I’ll be your Robin’” “And look at you now my little “Red Hood” shooting up people and making Batman’s life miserable! You are my Robin!”

What a nightmare Johns decided to put Jason and Jason Nation through huh? I hate this, this is the worst thing that has ever been written in a Jason Todd story (although I can say that about many things that were written in this three-issue book).

Jason kills the Joker after he says all that, Barbara does (for some reason) try to stop him from doing it but luckily, she can’t stop Jason.

But here is the thing, Jason killing the Joker doesn’t make me feel as satisfied as I would have liked, and it doesn’t feel that way because Jason let Joker talk for far too long and what Joker said ended up getting in Jason’s head and messing with him.

Batman: Three Jokers #2

Yeah, there is no rest for us, Jason Nation, in this issue Jason goes looking for another Joker to kill and he finds one but he gets captured. Johns really had to get Jason naked for Joker to torture him mentally and physically? Johns is, himself, a major red flag but that’s not what I am here to talk about.

In this issue the Joker that captures Jason has the same things to say as the other one, DC writers really have no imagination when it comes to building conflict between Joker and Jason, huh?

Anyway, Joker says this, “tell me something. Why would you put on that helmet and call yourself Red Hood after what we did?” Jason of course replies “Come on, is every one of you copycats gonna ask me the same thing? It’s a joke” the answer isn’t enough for Joker (the two of them that are here with Jason) so he continues talking. “A joke? We left you with brain damage and permanent nerve pain. Physical and emotional trauma so severe that the only relief you ever find is when you inflict pain on others. You and me, boy, we’re more alike than you’d care to admit. But you know that already. You nearly died and you blame the Batman. You hate him for it. Me too. You hate him most of all don’t you?”

Now, here is the thing, that whole thing is bullshit, none of it makes sense. From Jason having permanent nerve pain to Jason hating Batman the most, everything is a lie. And my confusion here is that I don’t know if I have to feel like Joker is doing it on purpose to be a little bitch or if Geoff Johns was on crack when he wrote this and he had actually never heard of Jason Todd in his life before.

The whole thing is a mess, it feels like he is writing Jason from an origin and story that we never read. I don’t know how to explain it, but the whole thing feels cheap, it’s a cheap trope and it’s a cheap take on who Jason Todd is, was, and will be.

The nightmare doesn’t end Jason Nation because these two Jokers have something else in mind, you see, if they said that they made the Red Hood when they killed Jason the first time, maybe if they kill him this time then he could possibly come back as the Joker. Yeah, this book did nothing for Jason.

Let’s make something clear, Jason does NOT hate Batman/Bruce for not being able to save him, he hates the fact that Batman/Bruce didn’t kill the Joker to avenge him. That simple thing doesn’t exist in Three Jokers and that’s why things like the ones that happen next are allowed to happen in this story.

Bruce and Barbara find Jason and when Bruce asks if he is okay Jason just goes berserk, he says: “Am I all right? What do you think Bruce?! You did this to me. You put me on this path. And I do hate you for it. For leaving me in the dirt. Replacing me one Robin after another without a thought.”

This, everybody is what you get when you mix bad writing with Jason being mentally manipulated by the Joker.

It's a shame that Jason is being treated this way at this point in time, in a book that came out in 2020 when Jason was able to shut the clown up with a knife and a couple of words back in 2005. What a downgrade.

At the end of this issue, Jason is safe and recovering but he still is in the same mindset, he says, “What the Joker said about how I’ve been on the path to being like them for years… they are not wrong. I don’t want to be like them though. I really don’t.”

It’s like a never-ending wheel of pain with this book. Jason is talking to Barbara when he says that and he is trying to look for comfort in her. And here is where the Jason/Barbara subplot begins and I only bring this up because something that happens in the next issue is based on the kiss that Barbara gave Jason but then was like “that doesn’t mean anything, I was just trying to comfort you”. Johns shouldn’t be allowed to write Barbara and Jason ever again.

Batman: Three Jokers #3

It’s in this issue that we find out the big subplot that Johns has prepared for Jason, are you ready for it? Yup, Jason should stop being the Red Hood because if he keeps it up, he will eventually become the Joker.

I know, I know! Jason would never stop being Red Hood, he is not on a path to become the Joker, that’s crazy! Jason’s Red Hood is a character on its own and he is amazing and just because he has different morals from Batman doesn’t mean that he is a bad guy! Right?...

“I’ll give up being Red Hood for us. I can be something else. Or I can be just Jason.”

To this day I cannot believe that those words supposedly were written by Jason Todd to Barbara Gordon after Barbara rejected him three times. The level of “what the fuck is this” is incredibly high with this one…

This whole book was a mess and I am so glad that it didn’t last longer.

Anyway, that’s it. In conclusion, Jason didn’t let the Joker get under his skin the first time they interacted after he came back from the dead but later when DC decided that UtRH was just too good of a book they came up with stories where Joker does get under Jason’s skin and Jason becomes convinced that he has no free will (or at the very least he doubts his free will) when it comes to him becoming his own man.

As I have said before, that for Jason Todd is a major downgrade. And it's one of the many things that hurts Jason’s characterization in current comics.

#jason todd #Jason Todd #red hood #Red Hood #red hood and the outlaws #red hood outlaw #three jokers #batman under the red hood #dc comics

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gubler-me-up · 4 years

Text

Big, Open Arms (MGG request)

Request: Hi, a MGG request for you. You're a famous comedian and are cast as the new agent for CM. The cast/crew all love you, even before you come on set as you're hilarious, especially Matthew which EVERYONE knows about. As a huge fan of the show you're nervous, but you get welcomed into the CM family pretty quickly, and adore them all. You become best friends with Matthew, and after a while he asks you out on a date, and you say yes then after the media get involved, Matthew asks you to be his gf.

A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! This was a fully loaded request, so I hope I encompassed every aspect to your liking! Hope you enjoy!!

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content warning: None

Word count: 2.5k

——————–

You were rehearsing your lines before you had to go on set for the day. You had to admit you sucked at memorizing lines, so there were a lot of blooper reals of you stumbling over your words. You hadn’t even been part of the Criminal Minds cast for a whole year yet. Good thing the cast and crew understood how hard it was to memorize masses of technical dialogue.

Your character was named Bianca Johnson, an SSA with a background in technology. She was basically Garcia, but could kick ass instead of petting cute animals. A lot of your lines were heavy technical geek talk, which was hard to say in a scene, let alone the whole episode. Whenever you messed up you’d joked around and said Shemar’s biceps were distracting you from actually getting your lines right.

Your favourite scenes were with Matthew though. He was such a great actor and hilarious as well. When you first introduced yourself to him he told you he thought you were such a hilarious comedian. One of his favourites actually. You told him your greatest joke of all time was landing the role of such a smart character when you only had two functioning brain cells. He let out a hardy laugh before agreeing with you by saying he also had barely functioning brain cells.

Everyone was full of the same excited energy when they met you. It was like having a family gathering every time you were on set. AJ was the sweetest, coolest person you’ve ever met, Shemar was charming, Paget was completely down to earth and Kirsten was such a character. Matthew was the standout cast member for you though. His portrayal of Dr. Spencer Reid was amazing to watch on T.V., but was even more amazing to watch in real life.

He would just spur out lines on lines of facts without messing up once. When he did though it was funny and adorable. You’d try to cover your laugh every time, but he would automatically turn to look at you with a goofy smile. Your laugh would escape immediately and then everyone else would join along.

You looked up from your script as you heard two loud bangs on your door. You looked at the time on your phone and saw it was already 8:55 a.m.

“Y/N, set in five,” you heard the producer yell.

“I’m surprised you’re here early today, Jeff,” you joked.

You heard him laugh. “If Shemar can be early on set anything’s possible, right?”

You gasped. “Shemar’s on set before I am? I have to see this.”

You got up from your chair and rushed towards the door to leave for set. Before you left, you went back to your mirror. You fluffed up your hair and adjusted your breasts. You wanted to make sure you were presentable as possible. For the camera, of course.

As you walked on set you were greeted with a welcoming hug from AJ. She literally gave the most mom-like hugs ever. It was comparable to eating cookies from the cookie jar.

“Happy wrap day,” she said as she let you go.

“I can’t believe we’re wrapping the season already. I feel as if we’ve only been filming for a week,” you said.

“I know, time flies around here. One second you’re in season one and then boom you’re in season 15,” she said.

“If I can look flawlessly good throughout 15 seasons like you I think I can get used to this job.”

She giggled and playfully rolled your eyes. “Are you kidding me? You always look so great. Trust me, a little someone keeps talking about how great you are.”

You looked at her curiously. If she was talking about who you thought she was talking about than you were ecstatic. Shemar, her and some crew members had told you when you first joined that Matthew was a huge fan of yours. Had talked about you quite a few times during the downtime on set.

“More Matthew gossip? I’m in,” you heard Shemar say from behind you.

You turned around and smiled at him. “Well, well, when Jeff said you were early on set I didn’t believe it, but now that I see it with my own eyes I still can’t believe it.”

He chuckled. “Well, baby, here I am in the flesh. If it’s opposite day maybe you’ll have a flawless run with your lines.”

“Good one. Maybe we should trade characters so I can look hot and kick down doors while you talk nerdy to me.”

“You don’t have to kick down doors in your case to look hot, Y/N. I think a certain someone thinks you’re pretty hot as is.”

You gave him a suspicious stare before looking back at AJ. She smiled and looked around the set. You folded your arms as you were waiting for further details to be spilled. They both remained quiet as you stood there waiting. Good thing your attention was soon shifted towards Matthew when you saw him walk on set. You unfolded your arms and softened your face up as you saw how good he looked.

“I guess this is our cue to go, AJ,” Shemar chuckled.

“I agree. See you in the bullpen, Y/N,” AJ said before she left with Shemar.

“Yeah,” you faintly said as you stared at Matthew.

He hadn’t noticed you. He seemed to be looking for someone though as his head continuously darted around the room. When he finally turned your way, his face instantly lit up. He lightly jogged towards you with a big smile on his face. It was as if he was looking for you.

“Hey, Y/N. Happy wrap day,” he said before embracing you in a hug.

You hugged him back. “Happy wrap day, Matt. What adventures are you going to get up to after we wrap?”

“Well, that’s kinda why I was looking for you. I was going to ask you that same exact question.”

“I don’t have anything booked until later next month, so I’m going to be relaxing mostly. Why what’s up?”

“Well, remember when we went to that Arcade Fire concert a few months ago?”

You smiled and nodded. “If you mean the best experience of my life than yes.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad you liked it. Vegas always holds the Life Is Beautiful Music and Art Festival and I was wondering if you were free to go.”

You felt your heart pumping with delight at him inviting you to go to his hometown. The last few months of your friendship were situated strictly in California. You had never really explored Vegas outside of a few shows at hotels and theatres on the strip.

“You wanna take me on a Vegas adventure?” You asked.

“Something like that.”

Before you could say your answer, the set bell rang. Sometimes that stupid bell could be so annoying, especially when you had a moment like this with Matthew. You don’t think there had ever been a more intimate moment between you two.

He smiled. “Think about it.”

As he started to walk off towards the bullpen set, you ran up to him to hug him from behind. He was caught off guard by your hug, but grabbed your hands that clung in front of him. You could say it was the first time you two had held hands.

“I’d love to go.”

“Awesome.”

—————

Going to Vegas with Matthew was such a different experience than anything you had ever done before. Everywhere he took you felt as if it were a new chapter in a life you’ve never lived. You always found Vegas cliche in its gimmicks and exaggerated neon lights. However, Matthew made it seem as if it were a faraway land yet to be discovered.

He showed you to little places outside of the flashy hotels and bright neon lights that filled the strip. You two spent a lot of time at ranches nearby. You told him since the first day you two met how much you loved animals, so going to those ranches was a dream come true.

What you weren’t expecting though was going to the ranch his mother owned. When you two were driving there, you felt your heart beating fast. You had never met his mother before but you knew he was a big mama’s boy. Even with all the nerves running through your body, you felt honoured to be meeting his mother. You didn’t even know whether to consider this whole trip a big first date or what, but it was something you weren’t expecting to happen.

You had a feeling Matthew had a crush on you for a while and the feeling had always been mutual. Guess the both of you had been crushing on each other through a screen for all these years. To be together in that moment was borderline unreal and probably long overdue.

“We’re here,” he said as he pulled up to the ranch.

You looked around the area. It was massive. Just a stretch of land with no buildings in sight. It was beautiful. You looked at Matthew with a huge contagious smile. He couldn’t help smiling back.

“Your mom knows beauty,” you said.

He laughed. “Yeah, I guess she does.”

“I mean if she created you she definitely knows what beauty is.”

He grabbed your hand and squeezed it. It was his fifteenth time holding your hand. Not like you were counting or anything. You blushed as he moved your hand closer to his lips and kissed it twice.

“I’m glad you came, Y/N. I’ve been meaning to ask you on a date for the longest time, but I couldn’t think of the perfect date to take you on,” he confessed.

“Matthew, you literally could have taken me to 7/11 for a shitty cup of coffee and I would have had the time of my life,” you said.

He laughed. “Well, even though 7/11’s cool, I thought you might like a trip to Vegas and concert better.”

“I have to say this is probably one of my favourite first dates ever. I just feel as if it’s missing a little je ne sais quoi.”

“A little je ne sais quoi you say.”

You then saw him let go of your hand and reach for the side of your neck. He brought you in closer as his face moved closer to yours. You hated dramatics, so you rushed in and embraced him with an enormous kiss. You grabbed his face to deepen the kiss. You had never been so excited to kiss anyone in your entire life. The way he kissed you was just different.

You two pulled apart from the kiss before anything went any further. You knew you were satisfied with that kiss but the way Matthew beamed made you believe he was even more satisfied. You covered your face with your hand as you couldn’t stop smiling to yourself.

“I didn’t mean to attack you like that,” you joked.

He chuckled. “No, no, it was great. Maybe we could continue this after we go see my mom.”

You smiled ear-to-ear. “I couldn’t dream of anything better.”

The two of you got out of the car to go greet his mom as she walked out to where he had parked his car. Her smile was just as magnetic as his. You were automatically drawn into her. So much so you found yourself approaching her ready to give her the biggest hug ever. She wasn’t shy to embrace you with big, open arms. It felt as if you were already apart of his family.

————

Back in your trailer to film another season of Criminal Minds and you thought you could get better at memorizing your lines. You didn’t. You swore to yourself you would get better over the summer break, but that plan went out the window as soon as Vegas happened. Matthew had turned what was supposed to be a mundane summer into a long-lasting experience. A long-lasting experience with a lot of making out and wandering hands.

You looked at your watch and saw you had a few minutes to kill before you had to go on set. You tossed your script aside and reached for your phone. The lines could wait a minute or several as you indulged in looking through Twitter.

You scrolled down your timeline, liking and retweeting a few things that caught your eye. One thing caught your eye in particular though. It was from TMZ out of all gossip media showing pictures of you and Matthew holding hands and kissing just a few days ago when you two went to the beach. They must have been hidden well because you knew for a fact no one was around the area you two set up.

Your shock was interrupted when a few knocks were made at your door. You put down your phone and picked up your script to pretend you were still trying to memorize your line. You knew if it was Jeff coming in he’d much rather see you trying to memorize your lines than scrolling through Twitter.

“Come in,” you said.

You saw Matthew come in with a sheepish smile on. You looked at him strange as you had never seen him seem so shy. Then you saw a magazine in his hand. You could only guess what it was. He held up the magazine, so you could see it. Right on the front cover was a picture of you on top of Matthew making out with him on the beach.

You smiled. “At least People Magazine finally put some eye candy on the front page.”

“I didn’t even know they were allowed to publish pictures of soft porn,” he chuckled as he handed you the magazine.

You laughed. “In this day and age anything’s possible.”

“Anything huh?”

He took your hand to take you out of your seat. You gladly got up as you tossed the script and magazine on your vanity. He pulled you in close as his hands moved from your hands to your waist. If this was his way of proposing a quickie in your trailer, you weren’t about to turn him down.

“If anything’s possible, how about we make it official?” He asked.

You would have screamed out of delight, but you were worried he might take it back if you did. You did the next best thing that had come to mind and grabbed his face, so you could kiss him. He wrapped his arms around your waist and embraced the kiss even further. The only reason you two broke apart was because you could hear the director calling everyone to set.

“I guess we should go before this ends up being our last season,” you said as you let go of him.

“I think it might be your last season if you can’t remember those lines,” he joked.

You laughed. “If I can still have you at the end of the day I’d be okay with that. Besides, I think Vegas might have an opening for me.”

—–

MASTERLIST

#spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #dr.spencer reid #mgg #mgg imagine #mgg fanfiction #mgg x reader #mgg x y/n #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler request #matthew gray gubler fluff #Criminal Minds #criminalminds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #matthew gray gubler imagine

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mrsalwayswrite · 4 years

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Little Lady (Bull Randleman x Reader)

So this is based on this post by @problematicfavesareproblematic and my own headcannon that Bull is super chill in his relationship and doesn’t get jealous easily but will go from cuddly teddy bear to terminator in a hot second if someone hurts his girl...and this was an excuse to write some Bull & Martin friendship.

Warnings: swearing, forced/coerced kiss, threats

Words:4400

Tag List: @happyveday @evelynshelby @saritanotserena @sydney-m

"I can do it."

"I don't mind helping."

I rolled my eyes at Arthur but handed him the crate. "Fine, but if you drop it, I'm gonna kick your ass."

He laughed, falling into step with me as we headed towards the supply trucks. "I would suspect nothing less from someone as fierce as you."

"I can't decide if you're flirting or trying to start a fight." I narrowed my eyes at him, even as we walked side by side.

"Oh, I would never fight you...you'd kick my ass, remember?" He winked those baby blues at me, the scar on his upper lip twitching at the movement.

"Mmm...so you're flirting?"

"Why? Is that a crime?"

I sighed. This was not the first time we had this discussion and honestly, I was getting sick of it. "Arthur, you know Sergeant Randleman is my man."

"I know. I don't know what you see in him though. He just looks like a country hick and I..."

"Stop," I interrupted, already knowing what he was going to say. Some flirting was fine but when someone began to question my relationship or degrade my boyfriend, then I took offense. Especially from someone I considered a friend. "We've had this discussion before and it won't change anything."

"Fine, I just..."

"Jesus Christ! Enough!"

"Ok ok, shit. I'm sorry. I just want you to be happy, alright?" He mumbled. A couple minutes passed between us in a tense, awkward silence as we continued walking before he bumped me cheekily. "So, he's your man? You're not his girl?"

"Damn right he's my man. I'm no one's girl."

Arthur laughed and followed me to the trucks. He shoved the crate on the flatbed of the one directed too. I adjusted the other crates, making room for the ones I still needed to grab eventually. We were supposedly leaving Aldbourne soon and I had volunteered to organize our extra supplies. I liked keeping busy and being organized came easy to me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him run his hand through his black hair, a nervous habit of his I had noticed. Soon he probably would need to get it cut. I wondered if someone in his company cut hair or if I should mention Liebgott to him. I bet for a pack of smokes Liebgott would cut it.

His voice jolted me back from my musings as he took a step closer to me. "Some of us are going out for drinks tonight at the bar. Come join us."

"They call them pubs here. Remember, we're in England."

"Pubs, right. So... you coming?"

I sighed, trying to figure out how I could nicely say no. Again. Most of the other companies did not like having a female paratrooper amongst them. More than one had gotten in my face about it, especially back in Toccoa. Now it just made sense for me to stick with Easy.

Arthur was one of the few exceptions. We had bumped into each other on the troopship over and next thing I knew we had been talking for hours, comparing different books, plays and films. His family was a huge advocate for the arts and it showed in his passionate rants. He also had an easy-going, if flirtatious, manner about him, always trying to make me laugh and check up on me whenever we saw each other. Though lately, he had begun making his intentions known and while flattering, I only saw him as a friend.

Before I could let him down again, he was frequently asking me to go to the pubs with him, I heard my name called loudly. Glancing down the road, I saw several members of Easy's First Platoon sitting or standing around a table, with most smoking or playing cards, or both. More importantly I saw HIM.

I could not help the stupid smile, not even paying attention as a frown appeared on Arthur’s face. "I'll see you around, Arthur."

Without waiting for his response, I started towards the group. Although technically they were not my platoon, they welcomed me with open arms as I frequently found myself in their company.

"Hey! It's our favorite Corporal!" George Luz announced, passing out a new round of cards to those at the table, a cigarette hanging between his lips.

"That's only cause I get cigarettes for you guys."

"Eh, you're an angel."

I laughed with the guys as I finally reached them. It was nice to see everyone relaxing under the shade of the large tree, finally receiving a much needed break from drills and field trainings. I did wonder where they stole the table and chairs from since I had never seen it out here before.

Denver "Bull" Randleman stood on the other side, watching me with a slight curve of his lips, even around the cigar. My heart skipped a beat as I met his eyes, moving around the table towards him. Automatically, he raised his arm just enough for me to slip under it. It was a practiced, almost subconscious, movement between us by now. "Hey, little lady."

"Hey, handsome.” I smiled up at him, a wave of happiness crashing over me. A very familiar feeling whenever I was in his presence, even more so since we started a relationship.

"Who was that you was talking to?" Johnny Martin asked, standing on Randleman's other side. His typical scowl on his face, eyes narrowed, as he stared from me back to where I had just come from.

"Oh, Private Arthur Cox." I supplied, not thinking much about it.

"From Charlie Company?" Floyd Talbert looked up from the card game.

"Yeah."

"I heard from a reliable source that he's been flirting with you." Talbert continued, trading two of the cards in his hand.

"Is that so?" Luz looked back at me, a mischievous grin on his face. "Know anything about that?"

"It's not a big deal. He's just friendly." I shrugged, feigning disinterest. I really did not want them to know all the things Arthur had been saying lately.

"Hear that, Bull! He's just friendly. You better watch your girl." Luz chuckled.

"Hey! I ain't his girl!"

Bull pulled the cigar from his mouth, giving me a small squeeze as he spoke. "It's alright, darlin'. They know I'm ya man."

"Damn right."

"Still, he's been talking about you." Talbert stated, tossing his cards on the table then looking over to me.

Dammit. Why couldn't he just let this go? The others were paying far too much attention to the conversation to my liking. "He knows I'm with Bull."

Talbert shrugged.

"What?" I snapped.

"Might not be enough."

"Tab, what are you saying? He knows I'm not leaving Bull for him." I tried to stay calm. I knew the guys were just looking out for me. They did not trust anyone who wasn't Easy. Randleman's hand slowly rubbed up and down my arm, trying to soothe me. I took a deep breath and leaned my head against his side.

"Maybe. He might keep trying for you though."

"Is that what you would do?"

"If I saw a girl I really wanted...maybe." Tab winked at me, earning a few chuckles from the group. Everyone knew Talbert was a flirt, but a respectful one. If any women were not interested, he always backed off. Though most women never said 'no' to him.

I groaned. "Save me from the stupidity of the male species." I mumbled to myself.

"He ask ya to be his girl?" Bull asked, a smirk on his face.

"Yeah...sort of."

"No proposals?"

I rolled my eyes. He just would not let me forget when a Private from Able Company dropped down on one knee and proposed two weeks ago. Bull had laughed when I told him the story, saying if they really knew me, they would know to bring chocolate. That was my biggest weakness.

"Not this time. He does like to compare the two of you though." I admitted, guilt tainting my voice.

"I ain't worried.” He winked at me. “We know ya just like me for my body."

I patted his chest. "Don't you forget it."

Luz threw down a winning hand, causing the others to groan and the attention to focus back on the game.

I absent-mindedly watched the next game unfold, my mind though on Arthur. Sure, more than once he had made comments about me; and he had made even more comments about how he did not think Randleman was good enough for me. I thought it was harmless or just annoying. Now I was beginning to wonder if I should take it more seriously, if I needed to stop talking to him. If he really was gunning for me, I needed to set him straight once and for all. Right?

There was about a snowball’s chance in hell I would be leaving Randleman. Ever since Toccoa, we had somehow just clicked. At first it had started off as a close friendship, looking out for one another amidst the tortures heaped upon us by Sobel. When some of the other companies would cat-call or yell things at me, he always stood between us, glaring at the men until they backed down. Though I never asked him to do that. More than once I know he took matters into his own hands, or at least orchestrated it so some of the other Easy paratroopers could have their turn swinging punches to defend me...even if none of them ever admitted it later. It was not until one night that I found him at the aid station, getting his knuckles looked at by Doc Roe that he subtly admitted to seeing me as more than a friend. So logically, I kissed him right then and there. If his response said anything, he did not mind too much. After that, things just fell into place for us.

"Hey."

I turned my face up to meet Randleman's eyes, still tucked into his side. My favorite place to be.

"Ya alright?"

"Yeah, just thinking." I slipped my hand into his and squeezed three times, letting him know I was ok.

"Ya want me to talk to him?"

I smiled thinking of my boyfriend confronting Arthur. "No, it's ok. I'm sure this will blow over."

"If you say so, little lady." He pressed a chaste kiss to my temple. It was sweet how whenever he had the chance, he always took it to affectionately touch me. A sweet kiss on the forehead here, an arm tucking me into his side there, even a gentle squeeze of my hand. A silent reassurance of his affection for me. He was not a man of romantic monologues or one-liners. Instead he always reminded me through the simple gestures. I still teased him about it occasionally and he would reply that it was damn near impossible to keep his hands to himself with how beautiful I was and how much he adored me. That always won a kiss from me, even as I blushed crimson.

"You tell us if he tries anything." Martin stated, drawing me back from my thoughts, wary scowl on his face.

I nodded.

"I'm serious."

"You always are." I quipped back, earning a chuckle from Randleman.

Martin huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why I put up with you two, I don't know."

"You love us." I teased, fluttering my eyelashes at him. He narrowed his eyes at me but I could see the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. Back in North Carolina he had admitted one night I reminded him of his baby sister. When I laughed and told him she was lucky to have a brother like him, that seemed to seal our friendship. Since then he had easily stepped into the role of a big brother.

"C'mon, let's get some food." Bull guided me around the table, arm around my shoulders and mine around his waist. Martin followed us, walking on my other side, grumbling about how food here was shit and he missed his wife’s cooking.

*****

I stared across the field at the sunset. The warm colors transitioned into the cool tones of night right before my eyes. Colors so perfect they would make even the most talented artists zealous to try and capture their beauty. I absent-mindedly wondered how much longer I would be able to appreciate the sunsets. Or would war take that away from me.

It is only at the call of my name did I retract my gaze from the beauty in the sky. I knew who it was by his voice. And also from the fact that all of Easy knew to leave me alone while I was watching the sunsets. I loved my boys dearly but sometimes a girl just needed to get away. I saw Arthur with his hands in his pockets standing a few paces away from me, the tips of his shaggy hair almost covering his eyes.

"Can I join you?"

I shrugged, turning back to watch the painter's sky. It seemed fate had a hand in events today. A conversation needed to happen between the two of us and here he was. Dammit. Silently, he sat next to me, our shoulders almost brushing. Several moments went by like that, both of us just staring at the first of the stars to emerge.

Sighing, I turned to face him, not looking forward to this conversation. "Arthur, I think-"

His chapped lips interrupted me, slammed against my lips with an almost desperation to them. His hands cupped my face, pulling it closer to his. The sharp burn on alcohol was on his breath. I vaguely wondered if he needed liquid courage before doing this.

I sat there stunned for a second. I had thought he was all talk. I never would have expected...this.

In the next second, I tried to pull back, putting my hands on his chest for leverage. This had to be a drunken mistake. I was sure he would apologize after. Instead of releasing me, his grip on me tightened marginally and his tongue forced its way into my mouth.

This time, I roughly shoved him away with both hands on his chest, making him rock back and almost fall over. Before he could recover, I reared back my fist and slammed it into his eye. Pain exploded from my hand but I did not care. Anger and revulsion fueled me. How dare he?!

I rolled back and onto my feet putting necessary space between us otherwise I would be tempted to hit him again. He knew I only saw him as a friend. He knew I had no plans to leave Randleman. Yet he still kissed me without my consent...forced himself on me!

Staring wide-eyed, anger and betrayal warring within me, I watched him right himself and placed a hand over the eye I had hit.

"You're too good for him." In anyone else it might have sounded like begging, but from him, someone I had thought was my friend, he made it sound like he was stating a fact. "You deserve better. Please, give us a chance. I could-"

I turned on my heel and fled before he could finish. If I heard another word from him, I would not be held responsible for my actions. Right now though, I needed Randleman. I needed comfort and someone to soothe the ache in my heart. I needed the taste of someone I did not want off my lips. The feeling of his hands erased from my memory. Of his tongue awkwardly plundering my mouth and leaving a lingering hint of beer.

The barn door slammed open as I shoved it, not even caring about how loud it was. Most of the men should still be awake. The barn they were billeted in was nice enough. There was a cot for each person and plenty of blankets. My feet moved on autopilot, eating up the ground beneath me. I knew he would be on his cot, waiting for me to return like every night to say goodnight before I headed to the house I was billeted in.

"Hey! What's got-"

Whatever Luz saw on my face immediately shut him up. A heavy silence filled the barn as I stormed over to where Bull reclined, cigar in his mouth. He slowly sat up, pulling the cigar from between his lips. Before he could say anything I pressed my lips to his in a bruising, passionate kiss. Something we NEVER did in front of others. I did not care though. I needed the taste of Arthur off my lips. I needed to trade the taste of alcohol for a cigar.

Soon as I released him, I felt loathing towards myself. Bile stung my throat. I just forced a kiss on him. Not to show my affection but in demand to mask the taste of another. What was wrong with me? This was the man I loved. How could I have done this to him? It was selfish. Disgust flooded me, aimed at myself and now all I wanted to do was hide and cry.

Panicking and without a word, I turned to step away but before I could move further, a firm grip wrapped around my wrist, holding me in place.

"Talk to me." He softly said in that calm drawl of his. I could not help but instantly feel some of the tension loosen inside of me.

Tears blurred my vision, disgust at Arthur's actions and my own. I could only stare at the ground, shaking my head. My chest was tight, throat thick with suppressed sobs.

"Little lady, what happened?" He asked quietly, dipping his head to try and catch my eye.

Martin, who had been sitting on the next cot over, spoke up. "Why are your knuckles bruised?" A second later, his voice turned hard and demanding. "Who hurt you?"

The hand holding me, tugged me back, pulling me into his lap. Comforting warmth enveloped me as Randleman wrapped his arms around me. I laid my head on his broad chest, his heartbeat a soothing sound under my ear. I forced the treacherous tears away. This was not something I would let control my emotions. Arthur was not worth it. All this did was show his true colors. A gentle kiss on the top of my head reminded me who mattered most to me. Who promised to always have my back and never doubt me. Like I promised to never doubt him and always be there for him. He was my best friend, my lover...maybe even one day my future.

"He kissed me." I finally muttered, my face still buried in his chest.

"Mmm?"

I leaned back slightly to meet my boyfriend’s concerned gaze. "Arthur….he kissed me and said….well, it doesn't matter now."

"So ya clocked him?" He asked.

I nodded.

"Good."

"I never thought… I didn't think he would force me and…"

"Shhh, s'alright." He rubbed my back, holding me close. "I'll take care of it."

I did not even question his statement, caught up in my own emotions and soaking in his comforting presence. I could not tell if I was overreacting. I felt justified to be upset and angry at Arthur. At the moment, I did not want to think about it anymore. I wanted to forget Arthur and what just happened. I just wanted Randleman, his soft touches and calming aura.

Above my head Randleman and Martin's gazes meet with a darkness simmering underneath. Martin nodded and got up, stalking out of the barn after telling the others to leave me alone.

*****

"Heard ya kissed my girl." Randleman stated, watching the black-haired Private who had made you almost cry. An unforgivable sin in his eyes. A little flirting never bothered him, he usually found it amusing to watch their faces when they realized he was your man. He could practically see the wheels turning, questioning how someone like him could have caught himself such a beautiful, smart, talented woman like you. Often he questioned it himself but thanked his lucky stars daily for blessing him with you.

But when someone actively hurt you. When they made you cry. There would be hell to pay...and he had no qualms about doling out justified retribution.

Arthur looked over his shoulder before turning back to counting boxes next to a supply truck. "Yeah? Who told you that?"

"She did and some of the stuff you've been saying to her." The Arkansas man chuckled. "Got a nice shiner there too."

"So? It's true.' Arthur whipped around, eyes blazing. Though, one eye was distinctly bloodshot with a fantastic array of colors around it. "You're nothing but a redneck that can't-"

"You're gonna need to shut the fuck up before you say another word." Martin interrupted, moving to stand next to Bull in silent support.

"Who the hell are you? Some bodyguard? Redneck here can't fight his own battles?"

Martin glared, crossing his arms over his chest.

The Private sneered. "Your grim reaper look don't scare me."

"That's where you're wrong." Martin stated, rolling his shoulders, signature glare still in place. "I'm not the grim reaper. He's on holiday. I'm his replacement….and I don't need a sickle to beat your ass."

"I don't need to hear this shit." Arthur tried to move around the side of the truck only to come face to face with a grinning Guarnere and smug Toye.

"Hi ya, cowboy."

"Who the fuck are you two?" Arthur demanded, eyes hard and fists clenched.

Toye shrugged, lighting a cigarette. "Concerned citizens."

Arthur tried to move around them but Guarnere shoved him back.

"Shut the fuck up, cowboy, and listen to the man before I kick your teeth in."

"You can kick your leg that high?" Toye asked, looked over to his friend casually.

"You know what- shut up, Joe."

"I'd rather see Martin go grim reaper on his ass." Toye shrugged.

Martin grinned wickedly. "Would be my pleasure."

Randleman spoke up, drawing Arthur's attention back to him. "Ya stay away from my woman. I hear ya talkin' to her again, I can promise ya, they won't find ya body."

"Are you threatening me?" Arthur drew himself up to his full height, which to most guys might have been a challenge, but he was still shorter than the taller than average Randleman.

With the way this jack-ass was acting, Randleman almost wished he would try and take a swing. Give him a reason to knock his arrogant ass on the ground.

"No, son. That's a promise." Randleman exhaled, smoke drifting lazily out of his mouth from his trusty cigar. "We'll be lettin' ya get back to work now."

"Run along, boy." Martin leveled a hard look at Arthur that would have even the devil himself reconsidering his options.

Leveling his own less-than-impressive glare, Arthur looked at the four guys that surrounded him before turning on his heel and walking away.

"I gotta ask." Toye started as they watched the Private leave. He turned to look at his friend. "Can you really get your leg up-"

"Shut up, Toye, before I kick your teeth in."

"I mean maybe Perco or Luz you could but-"

Randleman chuckled as Guarnere tried to put Toye in a headlock. He could only hope this Arthur was smart enough to heed his warning.

*****

I sat in the mess hall, well, the building that had been converted into a mess hall for the Airbourne. Randleman sat on my right, hand holding mine underneath the table. Smoky on my left was arguing across the table with Skinny about something dumb. Honestly, I had already zoned their conversation out. Further down the table, Buck was telling a story from his Rose Bowl days that had those listening in absolute stitches.

A smile teased my lips as I glanced around the table. Sometimes it would randomly hit me how lucky I was to be in Easy Company. They were idiots, but my idiots. Except for Bull. He would always be my man.

I looked up to peek at the other table of Easy boys but froze when I noticed Arthur walking down the aisle, trying to find a seat. As if feeling my gaze, he looked my way. Instead of flashing me his signature smile or a quick wink and continuing on….he glared. Anger flared in me, ready to explode once again. Our paths had not crossed since the day he kissed me, which I was infinitely grateful for. I was unsure how I would handle it if he tried to approach me. Now seeing him, all I could think of was hitting him again. I could tell the black eye I had given him was not as bright, the colors dulling into yellows instead of black and blue. There was a sense of pride that he somehow had to explain his black eye to any who asked.

Then I realized his glare was not aimed at me but to my right, at Randleman beside me. Confused, I glanced up expecting to see Bull listening to Buck with the corner of his lips turned up slightly in amusement. Instead he was staring back at Arthur with a stoic expression and stern eyes. My gaze darted between the two, wondering what was going on. As far as I knew, they had never spoken; though the tension radiating between the two practically screamed confrontation. After a long moment, Arthur gave a curt nod and walked on by.

"What just happened?" I murmured, eyeing my boyfriend.

"Nothin'."

"Bull…"

He glanced down at me, slinging his arm around my shoulders and tucking me into his side. "Told ya I'd take care of it."

I stared expectantly, waiting for the explanation.

"We just came to an understandin'." He finally said.

"Did you threaten him?"

His reply was a brief wink.

I laughed, snuggling closer into his side.

"I told ya, little lady. I'm ya man and I don't take too kindly to others tryin' to take my position."

"Mmm...I think you're a keeper." After a moment, I smirked. "So I probably shouldn't tell you about the Sergeant in Dog Company who tried to give me flowers yesterday."

"Flowers, huh?" He grinned down at me, eyes alight with mischief. "Least he's got class. What ya do?"

"I pretended to be allergic and kept sneezing whenever he tried to talk to me after."

He laughed, planting a kiss to the top of my head. "Do I need to start gettin' ya things too?"

"No," I reached up to kiss his jawline, making him blush. "I just want you...and maybe some chocolate."

"I think I can manage that, little lady."

#band of brothers #Band of Brothers fandom #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #bull randleman #bull randleman x reader #denver bull randleman #johnny martin #george luz #floyd talbert #bill guarnere #joe toye #reader insert #based on tumblr post #mzwrites

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callisto-rants · 4 years

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Starting a new ✨series✨ that no one asked for! ( ꈍᴗꈍ)

Callisto-Rants presents...

Here's my Two Cents

Where we just throw down our two cents on how we would change a series to make it better, in our own personal opinion.

[You can Block this tag if you're not interested in this series: #Here's Our Two Cents]

Here's my Two Cents

Yarichin Bitch Club.

Ever since I had the misfortune of having that opening theme song stuck in my head because of countless memes and tiktok edits. . . I have wished for days to have the ability to create a time machine to prevent myself from saying. . .

"okay, fine I'll bite the bullet and check out the source material."

Now if you're reading this and thinking, "huh. I never heard of this series..." let me just tell you, GOD I WISH I WAS YOU RIGHT NOW.

No one was going to tell me this BL Manga about a "pHoTogRaPhY cLuB" wasn't completely INSANE? I was just supposed to find out Three Volumes Later??

Now some of y'all who have read the source material might be thinking. . .

"Okay Callisto, get over it it's obviously supposed to be a comedy it's not meant to be taken seriously 🙄"

And to that I say... I mean I guess??? But do we really need all of THAT to make it a comedy?? I feel like you could still have an entertaining comedy BL Manga without 90% of the shit that goes on in that series..... But that's just ✨my two cents✨ take it or leave it.

FIRST THINGS FIRST, here's all the stuff I'd automatically remove from this series off the bat.

💀 The Gang Bangs.

💀 Teacher x Student Relationships.

💀 In fact all instances of unconsensual acts & sexual assault committed in this manga. Throw all of that away.

💀 the fact that the term Bisexual was used as a replacement for the term switch, and had nothing to do with the sexual orientation itself whatsoever.

💀 The High School Setting.

💀 Whatever the fuck Yuri was on.

💀 90% of the hyper sexualized traits these characters had.

Now here's what I'd change to make it better... Basically here's an AU of what if it was actually a normal photography club....

Actually make it a fucking Photography Club. Not a sex club that's in a fuckin HIGH SCHOOL. Hell, you could just throw this in a college setting too, for more mature themes.

Main character, Takashi Toono a college student that's trying to get out of his comfort zone more. So he decides to join the photography club, because he thinks it's not demanding to require anything of him compared to any other club on campus. He knows completely NOTHING about photography, and doesn't have any passion for the art media. His Character growth would be learning to appreciate the art media While learning what it means to him, as well as who he wants to be as he enters the adult world as a young adult.

Yuu Kashima, can stay as Takashi's love interest. Also, I feel like all the members should have a specific style of taking photos that correlates with their personality in some way. Yuu's photography style would be something the lines of Candid photography which is a type of photography style that's main focus is to take photos in the moment or in surprise. Something he has already done when he took that photo of Takashi. I also feel like Yuu would be the one to keep pushing Takashi to love photography, and understand it's more than snapping a photo.

Kyousuke Yaguchi, can stay as the Love Rival for Yuu Kashima and overall keep his personality? It was actually pretty interesting and I liked his Character dynamics with everyone else. Kyousuke Yaguchi can also stay as the outsider that directly / indirectly influences Everyone else in the club. Causing Takashi to explore his feelings and expand his social group, and make him think about what he wants to capture in his photos. Overall the same interaction between Kyousuke & Yuu Kashima with their rivalry and brotherly relationship at it's breaking point. As well as, Kyousuke and Yui's relationship being tense with miscommunication.

Yui Tamura, I imagine Yui's photography style would be more of Adventure (capturing shots in the great outdoors, usually involving extreme sports; mountain-climbing, skiing, kayaking, sky diving, etc) & Sports Photography. Which could create interesting interactions between Kyousuke and Yui. Cue Yui trying to cover up the fact that, every time the soccer club commissions Yui to take some photos of their club activity to promote their club, all of Yui's photos are of Kyousuke playing soccer. Causing Yui to complain to Kyousuke to get out of his shots and that he's ruining them by being in all of them. So, Kyousuke just shouts back "then stop following me around with your camera, DUMBASS". Just imagine Them bickering, because Yui 100% did not delete the photo he captured of Kyousuke getting knocked out by a soccer ball to the face.

Itsuki Shikatani would definitely be in the club, but only because he prefers to have his photos be taken, more than he likes taking photos himself. He would probably be a cross dresser, who enjoys dressing up in feminine articles of clothing and posing for photos. Everyone on campus who doesn't know Itsuki personally, always asks who the beautiful woman in these photos are, the club president and vice President always just says it's one of their cousins that happen to be in town. If Itsuki had to have a style of photography, it would probably be fashion.

Toru Fujisaki. . . This one is difficult only because his Character is purely centered around Yuki's Character. . . So I'm going to take some creative liberties here. . . Probably really insecure about himself, because he feels like he's a wall flower that's really forgettable, that no one cares about. Although, it's mostly because he's shooting himself in the foot by not letting one have the opportunity to get to know him to give him a chance, in the first place. Until, he meets Yuki who makes him realize that not everyone sees him as a wall flower and someone can notice his nicer qualities about himself that he's hiding away. Toru's Character development in this AU, would be for for him to learn to love himself more and try to trust people to accept him. As well as to expand his social circle with the support of not only Yuki, but the Photography Club as well. At first I bet, he would only feel comfortable with Yuki taking his photos and modeling only for him, but over time he'd let the other club members take his photo when he gets more confident in himself. While also, developing his own style of photography, that isn't just "cute photos of Yuri", it would probably be Still Life or Portrait.

Ayato Yuri, okay first. . . I'm still not over the fact that this boy was written like a deranged feral child, that was given access to a pornhub account way too early in life. While being dropped on his head several times, before and after his first words. Anyhow. . . I feel like Yuri would fit the trope of the genius, that no one understands in any capacity. His mind is 10 steps ahead of everyone else and he forgets to slow down and explain what the fuck he's talking about, when he goes into a passionate rant about photography. With endless rambles about golden ratio, gold lighting and blue lighting, and how he needs these specific props, that don't seem to fit the theme of the photo at all to make it perfect. But despite that, his photos always come out beautifully. No one can deny that his methods might be extremely weird, but they always work out way too well to give anyone the opportunity to chastise him. Anyone trying to work with Yuri often leaves the experience with a beautiful photo in hand, but an enormous headache. Even members within the photography club can't keep up with Yuri most of the time either, he's often in his own little world that just makes sense to only him. He can be a eccentric and passionate about his hobby and goofy to not make people feel too uncomfortable with the huge distance he unintentionally places between himself and others when he doesn't bother to slow down for anyone. But, he still has a good heart to make sure everyone gets a piece of art that'll always be memorable to them. Additionally, with that being said I feel like Toru would be the few people that would consistently attempt to keep up with Yuri, when he's a light year away from everyone else in his rambles. Toru wouldn't shut down and show disinterest in what Yuri says when he can no longer keep up, he's always being supportive and encouraging Yuri to continue because he knows it makes him happy to be able to express his passion. And sometimes, Yuri will pause and explain a bit to let Toru keep up with him, because he just truly appreciates someone trying to get closer to him, without making him feel bad. I would say Yuri is a jack of all trades when it comes to Photography styles. There isn't a single style he is terrible at, but he truly excels at Abstract Photography.

Koshiro Itome I think Koshiro would fit the silent type trope, but with a lot on his mind. Always over thinking things, and although he looks calm his mind is always buzzing with 500 things at once. Because, of this the only way he can find some semblance of peace is by going out for a nature walk and letting the environment take his mind off things. He's always worries about deadlines for projects, meeting up with clients face to face for the first time, whether or not a company will like his photos he submitted, if his boyfriend Akemi is okay, what if he doesn't find anything to take a picture of or if he's missing the perfect shot right now, will the club be okay after they all graduate, what else can be learn to improve his skills etc etc. Akemi can always tell when he's actually calm and when he's just zoned out and drowning in his own worries behind his calm demeanor. Luckily for Akemi, he knows exactly what to do to make him feel better, like a life boat to his pleas for help in the vast ocean of his thoughts. Koshiro is 100% the mom friend in the club, always helping newbies out on how to properly take care of their equipment, and the general basics, stopping people from bickering and carrying around a Mary Poppins bag of useful items. "Damn I forgot to bring my infrared lens with me!" "It's okay I brought a spare, here you go." Koshiro's photography style would be Nature & Wild life, cue everyone wondering how the hell he managed to capture a photo of baby bear and it's mother so close up with such clarity with the equipment he has on him. It should be impossible there's no way he could it's just unlikely, but all Koshiro does in response is just shrugging calmly "I just slowly walked up to them, and took some photos and went my way after I was done, they weren't bothered at all." At first no one believes him, until they see the next photo of him petting the mother bear, and within the next photo of him holding the baby bears paw. I like to think Akemi is always bragging at how his boyfriend is basically a Disney Prince, with the way animals just trust him enough to let Koshiro approach to take the photos. Of course Akemi has the proof that his Boyfriend is not making any of these up. With photo evidence he had taken from a incredibly safe distance away, of Koshiro just interacting with wildlife at such a close distance. Because, Akemi was not in fact gifted the ability of a Disney prince, to be doing that shit that Koshiro pulls on a daily basis. I feel like because of this Akemi can be a bit over protective of Koshiro, always telling him to text him before he goes to work and he gets back home, so he knows a feral bear didn't devour his boyfriend in the woods. He tries his best to join Koshiro while he works so he can be at peace of mind that Koshiro is in fact safe, but they both know it's very difficult for Koshiro to focus. When his boyfriend is being incredibly cute how could he remember he's here to take photos of the wild life and not his boyfriend? That and Akemi always accidentally scares away the wildlife, when he accidentally reads the animals body language wrong as any attempt to devour his boyfriend. Akemi will lose 25 years of his life with amount of false alarms, he has encountered in those damn woods.

Keiichi Akemi, Akemi is definitely one of those smug bastards, that has an ulterative motive or an ace up his sleeve. Appearing sweet and kind until you realize it was a facade. But one way or another you find yourself wrapped up in his convoluted plans, where you're either in his photoshoot as a model or you're carrying all his equipment, while he goes from one job to the next. Akemi's photography style would be Wedding Photography & Landscape something he definitely would've picked up from the countless outings he had with Koshiro in the outdoors. Akemi's friends are almost always married or paired up together, and that's no coincidence. This man is a match-making demon, a hopeless romantic who loves to see a budding romance finally bloom. So, he can snag a fat check when they thank him for brining them together and hire him as the official wedding photographer. His intuition is never wrong about the perfect pairings and how to push the right buttons to move things along, without getting directly involved until the right time comes. Something, that will be a pain in Toono's ass down the line as he stays in the Photography Club.

Overall, I feel like this could've been a really nice BL Manga which was a love letter to the art media of Photography. As Toono figures out what Photography means to him and how he wants to use it to express his feelings. "Why do you take photos? What do you want to say in these photos and tell people without the ability of using your words?" I feel like at first Toono, would just be confused "it's just a photo what's so special about it? You take it as a cool momento for something."

But, as time goes on, and he learns why everyone in the club enjoys photography and why they're here, he learns it's more than that. Whether it be to vent something you're unable to express in words, express your love for something or someone, to tell a story, to inspire others, to feel free, to share something with someone. All these different forms of expression, will let Toono figure out what he wants from photography and how he plans on expressing it.

Also instead of the whole "have sex with someone in one month or we gang bang you against your will" dilemma. . . I feel like another suspenseful situation could have been, "Create a photo album, that will impress all of us in one month, or you have to help us all out with our next projects." Which at first doesn't sound terrible, until you remember...

Yui is a thrill seeker, and would probably push you off a cliff to snag a cool photo. Or force you to be his pack mule as you climb up serval mountains.

Itsuki would force you to cross dress and model different fashion styles to make you look like a clown for his own amusement. All the while he revels in your shame, and points out how these colors don't suit you at all, but ignores the fact he's the one who put you in that outfit in the first place.

Yuri is such a wild card that you honest to God don't know what the fuck will happen to you, it'll be like being on an acid trip the whole time. And not knowing what will happen brings you more fear than knowing what will.

Koshiro would probably bring you to a wolf den full of hungry ravenous wolves, and let you accidentally get eaten alive by a pack of wolves. While he takes pictures of puppies, without a care in the world.

Akemi... Akemi just scares Toono, he seems like the safest bet out of everyone else. But Toono knows better to trust that sweet smile. Toono would be safer walking into Satan's house than spend a day with Akemi at work. Whatever he would have planned for them if he were to lose this challenge would not be good for his sanity. He hates how he knows Akemi wants just that for Toono to know he's not going to be safe either. Akemi would probably make him cry with prying questions about his romance life. While hitting too close to home with all his assumptions about him that he can't argue back. It's losing battle from there on out.

The only problem for Toono is Everyone in this club is so different, that it's almost impossible to be able to impress them all. None of them agree, which style is better or having almost anything in common photography style wise. Toono can't just half-heartedly replicate anyone's style either, he's going to actually try and fail miserably to understand this art media better, like everyone else. I think after losing the challenge and spending time with everyone, Toono would come to really like the club and everyone else in it.

And that's my ✨two cents✨ on how this story could've been better if it didn't focus too much on the whole pwp aspect.

Take it or leave it.

#Here's Our Two Cents #Callisto Rants #yarichin b club #god i hope one day i forget this series exists #and no I don't care if there's people out there who like this series unironically y'all do you!#just wanted to rant on how i would change this story to make it less hyper sexualized 乁| ･〰･ |ㄏ #not trying to say y'all should be cancelled or something silly like that #Takashi Toono #Yuu Kashima #Kyousuke Yaguchi #Yui Tamura #Itsuki Shikatani #Toru Fujisaki #Ayato Yuri #Koshiro Itome #Keiichi Akemi #basically a huge rant post #AU where it's actually a fucking Photography Club hcs

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natrogersfics · 4 years

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After All - Chapter 3/5

Cover art by @faith2nyc Read on AO3

The hustle and bustle of the aquarium is magnified in the underwater tunnel as locals and tourists alike take in the scenery. But as Steve watches Isabel stare at the glass panels above them with fascination thick on her face and an exclamation of wow! slipping from her lips every now and then, he notes that the ruckus is not nearly enough to drown out his daughter’s infectious excitement. She’d been intrigued the second they walked into the first exhibit and saw a school of colorful fish swim by, all but demanding to be let out of her stroller, and ever since, getting her to walk in stride with him and Natasha instead of an entire full step ahead has been a lost cause.

As Isabel stops by one of the windows to admire an idling turtle, he steals a glance at Natasha to see a smile on her face as she watches Isabel wave at her newfound friend. To say that he was surprised when she offered him a beer last night would be an understatement. While they’ve certainly warmed up to each other in the last few days, Isabel's always been there to serve as a buffer between them, making sure that their conversations never progress longer than the time it takes for her to knock something over or cry for attention. Which is why, when Natasha had been so candid and open about her recent struggles at work with him last night, he was downright stunned. Still, the way they had smoothly transitioned into talking about life and their newfound perspective on it was reminiscent of the times they’d meet up after work to shoot the breeze at Dalton’s. Regardless of what he was going through then, he always left their self-designated booth those nights feeling better, and last night was no different. It’s something he has dearly missed.

It was that camaraderie that made him act on the impulse of asking her to tag along today. And though he’d all but goaded her into saying yes, he was still a bit nervous on his way to her flat this morning. It had been ages since the three of them had gone out together, and most of those instances had been to Christine’s office for Isabel’s checkups. But thus far, he’s glad that their rapport picked up right where it left last night, slipping effortlessly into conversation, catching each other up on mundane things like what their friends back at The Daily are up to and how Natasha’s yet to find a Thai restaurant that compares to their favorite one in the East Village. Further, while he’s certainly had fun discovering new aspects of Isabel’s personality these last few days, he has to admit that it’s nice having someone who shares his amusement to her reactions.

“Did you know that she loved fish this much?” he asks, keeping his eyes on Isabel as she begins to move once again.

“I had an inkling,” Natasha says, pushing the empty stroller. “You know those illustrations of sea creatures you made for her? I had them bound into a book before we moved so they wouldn’t get destroyed, and added it to the rotation when she started showing interest in picture books.” She nods towards Isabel, whose head keeps moving from side to side as she decides which exhibit to focus on next. She chuckles. “But I didn’t think she’d be beside herself like this.”

The corners of his mouth twitch into a smile. “She likes those?”

“They’re her favorite,” Natasha says, nodding in confirmation when he turns to look at her, surprised. “Of course, I try to mix it up every now and then, so her knowledge isn’t just limited to sea animals” – she pauses as they both laugh – “but given a choice? She’d pick that book in a heartbeat, every single time.”

“When we were at the Gardens the other day, the first urn she picked out on the fountain was the dolphin,” he says, slipping his hands into his pockets and no longer trying to contain his smile.

“Well, I did have the dolphin placed on the cover,” she says.

He looks at her, raising an eyebrow at the smile she seems to be biting back. “Because… dolphins are your favorite?”

“Not particularly,” she says. “But I do distinctly remember catching you doodling it during a section meeting.” She smirks at the sheepish expression that makes it onto his face. “Consider it a pre-emptive strike for when there’s a question about who she got her short attention span from.”

“She’s barely two,” he says emphatically, “of course her attention span is short!” When Natasha only shrugs, he scoffs in disbelief. “And excuse me, you’re the one who pretends to take notes on your iPad when really you’re playing Scrabble with Darcy.”

She gasps at his retort, but it’s quickly replaced by a chuckle. “Only when Sitwell’s talking!”

“That’s still an indictment of your attention span,” he counters, causing her to raise an eyebrow in challenge. “I’m just saying-”

“Dada!”

Isabel’s distressed voice interrupts him, but before he and Natasha can search for her, Isabel already has her arms around his leg and her face in the material of his jeans. “Izzie?” he says, scooping her into his arms just as Natasha comes around to them. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you hurt?” Natasha asks, checking Isabel’s arms and legs.

Isabel shakes her head, pointing towards the window to the right. “Shark!”

He and Natasha look over, and sure enough, a large tiger shark looms by the panel, its teeth bared. “Oh, fig,” he says, making sure to keep his amusement out of his tone even as he and Natasha trade yet another fascinated look. “You don’t have to be afraid. We’re inside, it can’t get to you.”

“No,” Isabel says, “home!”

The way Isabel’s arms tighten around his neck causes him to freeze, and he tries to rack his brain for a solution to calm her down. But then Natasha reaches over, patting Isabel’s hair gently. “But fig,” she chimes in, “we haven’t seen the penguins like in Happy Feet, yet.”

Isabel lifts her head from his shoulder, looking to him and then to Natasha. “Pen-gins?”

“Yeah!” Natasha says with a level of excitement he’s only ever heard her use when speaking to their daughter. “How ‘bout it, huh? Can you let Daddy put you down so we can go visit the penguins?”

Isabel smiles, nodding her head. “Okay.”

“Nice save,” he tells Natasha as he takes the stroller from her and she takes Isabel’s hand, leading them towards the hall labeled Polar Adventure.

“You pick up a thing or two after a while,” Natasha says, winking. “You’ll see.”

While he’s gone to see the penguins at Central Park before, he has to admit that the Penguin Point experience really is something special. From the simulated North Pole ambiance, complete with manufactured ice shelves and snowflakes, to the plexiglass bubble that allows visitors to come practically nose-to-beak with the Gentoos, it’s no wonder that Isabel’s been propelled over the moon. Her freight over the shark long forgotten as she and Natasha sit on the ledge of the enclosure to see the penguins wobble by. To the side, their guide dutifully informs them about the speed at which these flightless birds can swim, though he can’t say he’s paying much attention. Ever since he had seen the way Natasha had expertly diverted Isabel’s worries, he can’t seem to peel his eyes away from them, observing their interactions carefully and smiling at the unquestionable love and affection between them.

There’s never been a doubt in his mind about what a great mother Natasha is. He’s seen it firsthand, witnessed how easily she had tackled motherhood from the moment Isabel was born like it was something she was always meant to do. In many ways, he knows that she’s attuned to their daughter in a manner only she can be, instead it’s not something he feels a shred of envy over. He couldn’t be happier or more thankful that she happens to be the mother of his child, and from where he stands, that sentiment is only fortified when he sees Natasha point at the penguins jumping into the water, and Isabel, who’s sitting in her lap, claps her hands in elation.

The sight brings a warmth to his chest, and as he begins to make his way over to them, Natasha looks up, grinning softly, and he smiles back without so much as a second thought as she alerts Isabel of his presence. Isabel turns towards him, her eyes alight. “Having fun?” he asks, bending down.

“Pen-gins, Dada!” Isabel all but shrieks, pointing to the enclosure behind them.

“I’ve never seen her this excited,” Natasha whispers over Isabel’s head as she continues to babble on. “I think she might actually pass out.”

“Good thing I thought to bring the stroller,” he deadpans, chuckling at the way her eyes narrow at him. “Izzie, can we take a picture for grandma?”

Isabel nods, and as he reaches for his phone, Natasha begins to move. “Mama, no!” Isabel says, latching onto Natasha’s arm before she can stand.

“Daddy’s going to take your picture, babe,” Natasha explains.

“You don’t have to move,” he says. “Let’s get a couple shots of the both of you.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, her tone skeptical as she tilts her head to the side. “It’s for your mom...”

“I’m sure she won’t mind,” he says, taking a step back to widen the angle when Natasha goes to sit back with Isabel, pulling her into her lap once more. “Okay, in three, two, one… say cheese!”

“Cheese!” Natasha and Isabel say in unison, the both of them beaming from ear to ear, and he mirrors their expressions as he snaps a few shots of them.

“Why don’t I take some of you two?” Natasha suggests, and with a nod, he switches places with her, handing her his phone as he goes. “Look at momma, Iz! Good girl, now smile!” She moves to the left to shift the angle, and he and Isabel pivot accordingly to get the penguins behind them into the frame. “Okay, now funny face! Perfect!” She giggles from behind the screen. “Sarah’s going to love these.”

He chuckles, accepting his phone back from her to see a picture of Isabel with her tongue out and him cross-eyed. “They’ll be on her fridge in no time.”

“Excuse me?” They look up at the question to see their guide standing before them, a genial smile on his face. “Would you like me to take a photo of the three of you?”

His head whips from their guide to Natasha. “If that’s okay with you?”

“That would be great, actually,” Natasha says, stealing a glance at the nametag on the left side of the man’s vest. “Thank you, Heimdall.” She turns back to him and Isabel, smiling as he moves to make space for her on the ledge. “Let’s make sure she’s looking at the camera. I don’t want to hear it from Nick and Melinda.”

“Nor do I want to hear it from my ma,” he volleys back as she sits down, laughing as she shakes her head.

“Okay,” Heimdall says, holding up the camera before gesturing to them with his free hand. “Move a little closer, yeah?” He and Natasha do as they’re told, scooting closer to one another until their legs are touching, and he shifts Isabel to sit on both of them. “Brilliant! Now everybody lean in… and say penguin!”

“Penguin!” he and Natasha say at the same time Isabel yells cheese, sending them both into a fit of laughter.

When Heimdall gives them a thumbs up, Natasha turns to Isabel, shaking her head fondly. “Such a little rebel.”

“And whom does she take after?” Heimdall asks, only to chuckle when he and Natasha point fingers at one another. “In any case, you lot make a beautiful family.”

He smiles politely as Heimdall passes his phone back. “Thank you.”

“Think she has enough penguin things?” Natasha asks hours later as they sit at a café across the aquarium.

He chuckles over the lip of his coffee mug, setting it down on the table as he looks to the highchair where Isabel is working on her penguin activity book with a penguin scarf around her neck. “Oh, I don’t know,” he says, “maybe ask me again later when she puts on her penguin pajamas.”

“Hey, consider yourself lucky that I was able to negotiate the pajamas in exchange for the stuffed, jumbo penguin,” she says. “We’d probably have to get it its own Oyster card just to get it home.”

“Gift shops or death traps for the wallets of desperate parents?” he muses. “You decide.”

She smirks in agreement. “So…” she trails, propping an elbow on the table to rest her chin on a closed fist. “Christmas Eve. What’re you up to?”

“Not much, really,” he admits. “The hotel I’m staying at said they have something going on in the lounge for a bit, but I’m probably just going to turn in since I promised everyone that I’d wrap their gifts for” – he nods silently towards Isabel – “you know who in time for Christmas morning at yours.”

“They do know she’s coming home with you, right?” she asks. “They could’ve just given it to her there.”

“Believe me, if they listened to me at all, I wouldn’t be so worried about getting sauce on one of the few shirts I have for this trip,” he says, eliciting a laugh from her.

“Point taken,” she says. “But I ask because when I realized Izzie and I weren’t going to make it back for Christmas, I decided to invite some people over to my place for Christmas Eve.” She shrugs. “If you don’t have anything set in stone, you’re welcome to join us.”

“Natasha,” he says, averting his gaze to his hands. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you, but I don’t want to intrude on you and your friends.”

“Hard to be an intruder when you’re being invited,” she counters, sighing when he remains silent. “Steve.” He looks up at her at that, catching her disarming smile. “Look, I know in the past we’ve made a mess of things-”

“Natasha,” he repeats, shaking his head. “Consider that water over the dam.”

“Okay, yeah,” she says. “But now that we’ve put that out there, maybe we can look forward? I mean, I wish I could say that this is the only time a monkey wrench is going to get thrown into our perfectly planned schedules, but I sincerely doubt it. We’re going to be in each other’s lives, Steve. Might as well get used to it.” She eyes Isabel before looking back at him. “Besides, I think she’d really like having her Dad there.”

He scoffs. “When nine out of ten times her answer is no, I’d say the odds aren’t great.”

“Only one way to find out,” she says, tapping Isabel’s arm. “Izzie, you want Daddy to come to Christmas Eve, right?”

Isabel moves her arm out of Natasha’s reach as she continues to color over a penguin with a purple crayon. “M’busy!”

He and Natasha scoff, and she turns to him with a sheepish expression. “Technically that isn’t a no.”

He rolls his eyes at that before letting out a sigh when Natasha raises a brow in challenge. Immediately, his mind conjures a million different reasons to refuse. Spending a day together is one thing, and while he had been the first one to color outside the lines of their custody agreement by asking to spend Christmas with them in the first place, something about this invitation feels different. Meeting the new people in Natasha’s life, when these relationships have no bearing on how well the two of them function as co-parents, seems like a weightier, riskier choice. But then his mother’s words come to mind: like it or not, you and Natasha are forever bonded by the beautiful baby girl you two brought into this world. That makes you family, and families spend Christmas together.

When it comes down to it, with their family being as unorthodox as it is, it was always going to be more complicated to navigate than the average unit. But if Natasha, one of the most pragmatic people he knows and who he trusts to make difficult decisions, is willing to extend an olive branch, who is he to turn it down.

“Okay,” he says, smiling at the way Natasha’s eyes light up when she gets her way. “But then you’re coming cookie decorating with us in Soho tomorrow.”

“Do we get to take the cookies home?” she asks, to which he nods. “Fine, but since you’re keeping me from laundry, we’re dropping by Selfridges after this.”

He smirks. “Deal.”

Christmas carols play softly in the background in Hela’s Cookie Boutique, but Natasha’s only half listening, too distracted by watching Steve and Isabel decorate sugar cookies with the exact same focused expression on their faces. Isabel turns to Steve, bringing a finger up to his face and giggling when he licks the red icing off, and as she catches the exchange, she smiles. Seeing Steve and Isabel interact up close now that their daughter is more engaging has been an experience she didn’t think she’d find so endearing. Of course, she knew Isabel adored him and that the feeling was absolutely and unabashedly mutual, but to see that affection unfold before her very eyes has made her heart unexpectedly expand in her chest.

Perhaps adding to her giddiness is the fact that this sight is also quite comical. With the class geared toward families, miniature workstations had been set up for the children, and as soon as Isabel had seen them, talking her into sitting elsewhere became downright impossible. Despite the smaller than usual seats, though, she notes that she fits just fine. The same could not be said, however, for Steve right next to her. She lets her gaze fall to him, taking her bottom lip between her teeth to keep from smiling. Hunched in his seat, Steve sticks out like a sore thumb, his broad frame looking even more immense as they’re surrounded by other children. Though she had offered to move stations, he’d refused – too willingly beholden to Isabel’s whims to care about his own comfort.

“I should be mad at you for unleashing our daughter in what is essentially a sugar factory,” she says, prompting Steve to turn to her as she snaps a picture of Isabel. “But I have to admit, she does look darn cute in a baker’s hat!”

He chuckles. “Doesn’t the little shoulder shimmy she does along to the music just kill you?”

“So much so I almost forget how hard it’s going to be to give her a bath later,” she says a little too sweetly, eyeing the sticky mess caked onto their daughter’s arms as Isabel puts more icing than her cookie could possibly hold and finding herself infinitely thankful for the aprons they were provided with.

“Tell you what,” he says. “I’ll give her a bath tonight if you promise that my mother will never see those pictures.”

“Not that I would ever let Sarah know that her son is a traitor who took her granddaughter to another bakery for cookie decorating,” she says, putting her phone away. “But since you offered, feel free to take over bath duty anytime you want.”

He narrows his eyes at her, shaking his head when she does not even bother to hide her smile. “That’s fine,” he says, nodding towards the cookie she’s working on. “When she starts to yell at me, I’ll just show her a picture of your lumpy cookie to distract her.”

“We’re not all aiming to make art out of cookies, Michelangelo,” she teases, making him roll his eyes when she points to his immaculately decorated Santa cookie. “Plus, it’s a lot harder to smooth out this icing than it looks!”

“That’s why you never go for the snowflake. There’s not enough surface area,” he says, reaching over for a fresh cookie, this time shaped like a stocking, before scooping out some blue icing with his spatula. “Here, look. All you have to do is lay the icing down and glide the spatula back and forth like so. It’s all in the wrist.”

“Like this?” she asks, trying to mimic his actions, only to glare at him when he fails miserably at holding back his chuckle when the icing still does not lay smoothly on her cookie. “Excuse me for not being raised in a bakery like some people, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” he says through a wide smile. “Grab a new cookie and some icing and I’ll show you.” She does as instructed, barely hiding her surprise when he crouches down behind her seat, his arms all but wrapping around her as he puts a hand over the one she has clutching the spatula. “Just lay the icing” – he begins to guide her hand, first adding some pressure to flatten the blob of icing before gently moving their hands down the cookie – “and glide.” By the time the spatula reaches the edge of the Christmas tree, there’s not a single peak on the icing, and he turns to her, smirking. “Now was that so hard?”

“Guess not,” she says, craning her neck to look at him. “Thanks.”

He grins. “No problem.”

With their proximity, she feels his words just as much as she hears them, but the thought is fleeting, fading as quickly as it had come when she finds herself caught in his smile and the way his eyes look impossibly brighter in this moment. How long they stay staring at each other, she does not know – seconds, maybe a minute. It’s when they hear a squeal from across the table that he looks away, and when she follows his line of sight, her eyes widen when she sees that Isabel’s gotten hold of a piping bag.

“Izzie, no!” Steve says as they both rush out of their seats.

In spite of Steve’s warning, Isabel squeezes down, and she watches in horror as icing bursts out of the bag and onto Isabel’s face. She cringes as Isabel turns to look at her, icing flowing from her chin and down to her neck. “Uh oh.”

With a shake of her head, she laughs. “Uh oh is right, Little Miss.” She steps forward to reach for the baby bag, sighing in relief when she sees it already in Steve’s grip as he hands her a bunch of wet wipes. “Thank you,” she says, before looking at Isabel. “Say, thank you, Daddy.”

“Thank you, Dada?” Isabel says, smiling through the mess on her face as they all burst into laughter.

“Okay, new plan,” Steve says after they work in tandem to get as much icing off Isabel as they can without soap and water. He points to the tray of bare cookies before turning to her. “You lay down the base icing, I will smooth it out, and Miss Sticky over there can be on sprinkles duty.”

She laughs. “You do know she’s just going to throw too many sprinkles on it, right?”

“Ah, but that’s the beauty of giving her already iced cookies,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. “There’s only so many sprinkles that can stick before the rest just falls off.”

When his expression turns smug, she can only roll her eyes.

The sun’s only begun to sink low into the horizon, casting a halo of warm light across the city, when a chilly breeze blows by, prompting Steve to adjust his scarf to rest more snuggly around his neck. While stopping at a park seems like a ridiculous idea in late December, the decision was strategic. As the saying goes, hell hath no fury like a toddler hyped on sugar, and he and Natasha weren’t about to tempt fate by not providing Isabel with an opportunity to expend all the energy provided by an afternoon spent consuming ludicrous amounts of icing. While Isabel explores the surroundings on the patch of grass before them, he and Natasha sit on the nearby bench, a pile of rocks and weeds that their daughter has discovered and given to them for safe keeping only growing by the minute between them. He looks at Natasha, who’s busy admiring the scenery, to see the box of their leftover cookies resting on her lap, and instantly, the sight brings a smile to his face. Growing up in his mother’s bakery, the smell of butter and sugar in the air always had a way of evoking good feelings in him – a clear sign that wonderful things, usually in the form of a sweet treat, were to come. Today, though, as the three of them laughed and decorated cookies, he finds that those good feelings are akin to glee. The sound of Isabel’s laughter ringing melodiously in the air catches their attention, and when they turn, they can only chuckle when they see her begin to follow a hapless duck a few feet away. He shakes his head. “Why do I feel like we should be helping that duck?” “Because you know what your daughter is like when she’s only running on sugar and no afternoon nap,” Natasha says matter-of-factly, shooting him a knowing look. “Also, that duck’s never gonna see her again anyway. We, on the other hand, have to take her home and deal with the inevitable crash from her sugar high.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Believe me, the duck can take one for the team right now.” “She was a bit of a menace the other night when I let her have a cupcake after dinner,” he says, nodding in concession. “But, hell, if she isn’t so easy to love.” “Confusing, isn’t it?” she asks, to which he hums in agreement. “One minute, you want to pull your hair out because she’s acting like you’re torturing her when really you’re just trying to put her shoes on-” “But then the next she’s hugging you and telling you she loves you?” he finishes with a smirk. “Exactly!” she says, throwing her head back in laughter. “But like you said, she’s just the sweetest thing ever. Really intuitive, too. You’d think at her age, she wouldn’t understand when you’re having a bad day, but then just when you’re feeling really down, you get a random hug from her…” She sighs, looking off to where Isabel is. “And suddenly everything doesn’t seem so bad.” He follows Natasha’s line of sight, smiling when he sees that Isabel’s turned her attention to some flowers, before turning back to her. “We made a pretty good kid, didn’t we?” Her green eyes are brimming with pride as she looks at him. “Yeah,” she says, “we did.” He does not respond with words. Instead, he just holds her gaze as they share a smile, because truly, what else is there to say. If there’s anything these last few days have proven, it’s that when it comes down to it, Isabel is a reminder that despite everything that’s gone on between them in the last few years, all the hurt that they’ve unintentionally caused one another and the distance they’ve placed between them – physically or otherwise – they’ve always made a great team. And though the thought comes unbidden in his mind, he finds himself wondering how different things could have been if he had worked up the courage to tell her how he felt back then. But more importantly, for the first time in so long, he allows himself to question whether or not he was wrong to hold back. Before he can give the thought any more consideration, though, Isabel makes their way to them, climbing into Natasha’s lap. “Hey, you,” Natasha says, looking away from him to wrap her arms around Isabel and kiss the top of her head. “Tired?” Isabel shakes her head, resting her cheek against Natasha’s chest. “No.” “If you say so,” Natasha says, chuckling under her breath. “Do you want to grab dinner?” he asks. “I saw a Thai restaurant across the street. We could see if their Pad Thai compares to the one in the Village.” “I would love to, but despite what this one says, she’s probably going to pass out soon,” Natasha says, and as if to prove her point, Isabel’s eyelids begin to flutter. “But how about you just come over to mine?” she then adds, her smile almost shy. “I don’t have Pad Thai, but I can whip us up some pasta.” “You cook now?” he says, his brows all but shooting into his hairline. The glare she sends his way is sharp, but it lasts only a second as she begins to laugh. “I’m not sure I appreciate the disbelief on your face.” “No, I believe you…” he trails, grinning when she raises a brow at him. “I just remember having to put out a bacon-related fire in your apartment once upon a time.” “You accidentally leave the burner on while you go to answer the door one time and some people never let you forget it,” she says, rolling her eyes before she joins him in snickering. When their laughter tapers, she tilts her head to the side. “So, what do you say?” “I say to see is to believe,” he says, dissolving into laughter once more when she picks up one of the stones in the pile between them and chucks it at him. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding! I’d be honored to taste your cooking… and not have to put it out afterwards.” She scoffs, but he can only really beam at the expression of mock hurt she makes. “You know what, Rogers.” With Isabel slumbering peacefully in her car seat, their cab ride back to Natasha’s flat is steeped in comfortable silence. London after dark is breathtaking, but even as the stunning view passes him by, he finds that he can only focus on how felicitous this – the three of them coming back from a day well spent – all feels. He steals a glance at Natasha on the other side, her face lit only by the streetlights, but even so, the little smile on her lips as she looks out her window brings a smile to his own. As if sensing his stare, she turns, her smile only widening when she catches him looking, and he can’t help but wonder if today has felt as good for her as it has for him. His lips part to ask the question, but before he can, the cab rattles as the driver runs over a bump. Like a reflex, he reaches out to make sure Isabel stays in place, his hand colliding with Natasha’s as she, too, does the same. They both nod at the cabbie’s subsequent apology, and the rest of the way, he does not bother to utter a word about how their hands remain atop of one another’s, nor does he ask questions when their fingers somehow wind up intertwined – but, and perhaps more saliently, neither does she.

When they arrive back at Natasha’s flat, he lifts Isabel to him, paying the driver as Natasha collects the car seat and Isabel’s bag and they walk up the stairs to her front door. It’s only when they’ve made their way inside her foyer and she’s taking her keys out of the lock that he realizes her lights were already on when they entered. “Were you expecting someone?” he asks, turning to her. “Not that I remember,” she says, mirroring his concerned expression as she takes in her already lit foyer. As if on cue, they hear the sound of her cupboard being pushed shut, and hurriedly, she begins to make her way towards the sound. “Natasha, wait!” he says, his voice thick with worry as he follows her with lengthened strides. “There might be a-” “What are you doing here?” he hears Natasha ask as she enters her kitchen. Confused, he follows her, stopping by the doorway when he sees her arms around a man, his hair dark as night and his frame towering over hers. “I haven’t seen you in days!” “Had to pull another double shift,” the man says, his voice smooth as silk. “Luckily, my colleague was nice enough to relieve me a couple hours early, so I stopped by the supermarket and did some food shopping.” “You’re a lifesaver,” Natasha says, and he catches himself looking towards her kitchen island where an array of fruits and vegetables are sitting along with a six-pack of Stella and a bottle of Beluga – her favorite vodka. “Oh, Loki, this is Steve.” At the sound of his name, he looks up just as Natasha and the man – Loki, he reminds himself – turns to him. Loki smiles, moving around the island to extend a hand to him. “Pleasure to meet you, Steve.” “Likewise,” he says, shifting Isabel to free his other hand before shaking Loki’s. “I’m sorry, I-” His words are cut off when Isabel stirs, letting out a little whine. “Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart. We’re back home.” Isabel lifts her head off his shoulder, her forehead wrinkling as she grimaces, and quickly, he rubs her back soothingly. She turns in his arms, and when her eyes land on Loki, it’s almost on instinct that he holds her closer to him. “It’s okay, fig. It’s just momma’s-” “Yo-ki?” Isabel says, her eyes lighting up with recognition. Before he knows it, she’s squirming in his arms, signaling to be let down. He obliges, staring dumbfoundedly as Loki bends down and Isabel runs into his open arms. “Yo-ki!” “Hello, love,” Loki says, laughing and picking Isabel up as he stands. “I missed you! Did you have a marvelous time today?” “Indeed she did,” Natasha says, and his head whips towards her to see her walk towards Isabel and Loki to tap Isabel’s nose. “I was actually about to make some-” “Actually, Natasha,” he interrupts, his eyes going from Loki, to Isabel, and then to her. And though he does not remember reaching for it, he holds up his phone. “Something just came up with the gallery. I’m going to have to pass on dinner.” “Oh, okay…” she says, blinking in surprise. “Something major?” “No, um… just a misunderstanding,” he says before shaking his head. “You have that thing tomorrow at three, right? I’ll be back before then to pick up Izzie.” “Right, yeah…” she looks at Isabel, lifting her out of Loki’s arms to place her down. “Say bye to Daddy, Iz.” As Isabel walks towards him, he bends down to give her a hug. “Bye, fig. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” “Dada, no!” Isabel says, stepping away from him. “Stay.” “But it’s almost your bedtime, sweetheart,” he says, rubbing his hands up and down her arms consolingly. “Daddy will be back tomorrow, okay? I promise.” Isabel’s bottom lip begins to quiver, but before the waterworks can begin, Natasha bends down next to them. “Izzie, baby, why don’t you show Loki the cookies you decorated, huh?” “My goodness, you decorated some cookies?” he hears Loki say, and he’s relieved when Isabel turns towards Loki, a smile forming on her face as she nods. The second Isabel begins to walk towards Loki, he gets up, turning away from the kitchen and making his way towards the front door. It’s only when he has one hand already on the knob that he hears Natasha call out to him, and he turns back to see her standing a few feet away, her eyes wide as she stares at him. “Steve…” she says, her eyebrows furrowing. “Is everything okay?” “Yeah,” he says, lifting a shoulder in a shrug. “You have nothing to worry about.” He nods curtly. “I’ll be back for Izzie tomorrow.”

He does not wait for her reply as he twists the knob and walks out, shutting the door behind him before all but running down the stairs. His footfalls are heavy on the concrete, but he does not dare look back as he makes his way down the block, ferociously trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut and the ache slowly but surely burning through his chest.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

#Romanogers #After All #A Little Favor #Steve Rogers #Natasha Romanoff #AU #fanfic #natrogers #natrogersfics

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stinkfacestories · 4 years

Text

Strange Similarities

Bull and you sat on some rough pillows in a huge leather tent. They were alone for now. Bull was daydreaming. Looking out a tear in the tent.

"Think I can get one of those axes?" He said.

"Bull, I don't like being here, I don't really want to stick around longer to go shopping" You say back.

"Come on, Kadan." Bull said turning to you. "The Orcinar are strong, and so far neutral. If we can get even a few of them on our side well be kicking so much ass.."

The tent flap flew open and the Orcinar Delegater entered. He was nigh on twelve feet tall. All muscles. His skin a sallow tan and green. His retinue was somehow even bigger. They held axes that were so large you were sure Bull would be thinking of them for the next few rounds of sex with you. The masks they wore were made of dark blue cloth and hid their faces, all save for their mouths. Twin, or quad tusks jutted out from them. A thin river of drool running down them constantly.

"Welcome Inquisition." The Delegater said. "Let us commence trade negotiations.."

The negotiations went on for what seemed like hours. Topics ranged from food sharing, to Intel swapping. Bull was bored near to tears. Half way through someone brought in clay mugs and some sort of bean paste with bread and cheese and that seemed to perk up his spirits, but once the talking resumed he started to doze off. He wasn't the only one. You noticed the Delegaters guards also occasionally drifting off to sleep, only to snap back to attention when they realized what happened.

"It is settled then we will begin trade on the next —"

The silence was broken by a sound. A deep, almost far off sound. It was a low wet drone that seemed to grow in intensity. You and Bull looked around confused, but the Delegater knew exactly what it was. He looked back to his guards. One was trying to hold back a laugh, distancing him from the Delegater scowls. The other was Half asleep, leaning on a support post. You immediately realize what was going on with the hot and foul odor hit you: the slumbering orcinar guard had dozed off and farted.

The Delegater growled, throwing one of the clay cups at the guard.

"You fool! You dishonor these talks!" He shouted. Big ropy gobs of spit flying through the air.

"Fuuuuuuuuck" Bull says with a laugh. "That was epic. Legendary even. I thought it was a low flying dragon"

The Delegater turned and arched his brow.

"I hope this does not befoul our talks" he said to you.

Before you could respond Bull put a hand in your shoulder and squeezed you into a hug. "Oh it's foul alright, but I think that just sealed the deal"

"Bull I can—"

"Kadan here fucking loves that kinda stuff." He tussled your hair. "What was it you said when we were walking to the tent?"

You blushed a little, giving the Delegater a coy smile.

"Oh wait I remember. You spotted that big brute, the one in the Kilt and told me: Imagine being under there when a big fucking orc like that decided to rip some thunder. Fucking steam tent ya"

"Bull that's not what I said." You correct him. All eyes were on you. There was too much at stake to try and play it cool. "What I said was: I wouldn't mind being trapped under there when he ripped some thunder—like a steam tent" You turn to look at the Delegater and give a weak smile. This had gone from great to worse.

The tension was thick in the air. No one was saying anything. The masks didn't help. The Delegater’s head starts to bob. Up and down up and down. Slowly, but surely his deep and dark, low and slow laugh comes through. His guards joined in. Bull joined in. You laughed too, mostly because you had no idea what was going to happen.

“You two are funny ones.” He said. “Truth be told We are not this formal” He motioned to the drinks, the nice clothing, the general set up of the tent. “The Orcinar are a humble people; who many would consider disgusting. It seems we have more in common than we first thought”

“Thank fuck for that” Bull let out a sigh of relief. He shifted in his seat and dropped a small grenade of a fart into the cushion he was sitting on. Nothing compared to what the Orcinar guard had done, but respectfully impressive. He punched you on the shoulder. “Sorry Kadan, I wasn't thinking, I should have asked if you wanted that one. Don't worry, thanks to that bean paste they’ll be plenty more on the ride home for you to enjoy”

The Delegator got off his sitting pillow and fluffed it up. “Well,” he looked back at his guard “Either of you grunts have one in the chamber so we can give our guest a little aromatherapy?” The second guard timidly raised his hand. “Good lad, get over here” The Delegator bade you to lay down on the pillow he had just fluffed up, facing upward. You did. To your surprise Bull joined your side. “I didn't think you were much on the receiving end of things, Bull” You say.

“Normally no, but to go through it with you Kadan, that will be special. Plus look at the guy, he must be fifteen feet tall and weigh as much as 9 Aurochs. This thing is going to be epic,” he said.

The guard lumbered over to you. He set aside his axe. He placed one green foot beside your head and the other beside Bull. You were looking straight up his long kilt. The light was dim but you could tell he was not wearing anything under it. “See Kadan, plenty of room for both of us,” Bull said. “Plus look at the size of those balls. Don't you just want to bounce your head off them?” You can't help but laugh at Bull. He always had a way with pointing things out.

The Orc lowered himself to his knees. His big legs falling to either side of you. You were locked in now. They were like large fleshy tree trunks, slightly oily, thick, and near immovable. His kilt draped over you and you were put into near darkness. From the light coming in through the fabric you could make out the shape of his round yet muscular ass descending upon you. He wasn't trying to crush you-- though you feel like if he slipped he could-- but he wanted to lower himself just enough so that you could enjoy the sensation of being pressed into his flesh. His massive, hairy filled ass crack as right between you and Bull. you turned to face him. He was already looking at you.

“Having fun Bull?” You say

“These talks just got a hell of a lot better if you ask me” He said. The heat was rising. The tent of the kilt was filled with the musky odor of the orcs undercarriage. You were sweating. Bull was sweating. The Orc was sweating; large drops of salty sweat cascading down his back through the hair of his ass. One drop landed on Bulls face causing him to blink. He licked at his lips and made an interesting face. “Well, now I can say I know what Orc-ass tastes like,” He spat. You laughed. “Think that's funny Kadan?” With a great effort Bull freed his arm and dragged it through the fleshy crack. His fingers found your mouth and he rubbed the wet digits inside it. “You know you're right,” he smiled. “It is funny to see someone drink liquid orc-ass” You'd be tasting that one for weeks.

The Orc shifted, and his guts growled. He leaned forward ever so slightly before letting out a slow and moaning roar from between his ass. The temperature in the kilt-tent shot up. The rough woven fabric was thick enough to keep the thick and humid stink inside. It was a deep and reverberating-sloppy blast. The ground thrummed under your back. Your nose burned with each breath, and to try to use your mouth to breathe was to taste the foul wind. It went on for near on a full minuet. Bull was trying to say something, but the deafening roar was all you could hear in your ears. It sputtered to an end. You felt tired. You felt as if you had just marched for three days straight. All you could smell was Orcine farts. You were drenched in sweat. You huffed for air. You were still being pressed beneath the gigantic ass. You turned to Bull. He looked a little worse for wear. “Bull. You. Are you alive?” Bull was huffing and puffing as well. “Kadan. I have never. Felt. More alive”

The Orc kept you pinned long enough to enjoy the fruits of his bowels. You couldn't tell if he was enjoying it, but he at least seemed practice in the art of making people suffer his farts. When he did get up you were not in any position to leap to your feet. You and Bull just lay there in the depression in the pillow. The Orc looked happy. Impressed even. When he went back to the other guard they locked fists triumphantly.

The Delegater loomed over you. “Well then it is settled. We shall engage in trade, and I shall send one or two of our biggest, and gassiest of Orcs to be stationed at Skyhold with you. Shall that suffice?” You looked at Bull, then back to the Delegater. “We can find room for two of them” “We had prepared a bed for you in our barracks, but I'm sure you won't want to spend the night with a bunch of rowdy Orcine warriors, so I shall have them prepare your cart for your journey home immediately.” “Well” You said, standing up. “I figure you went to the trouble of preparing the bed. It would be rude to say no.” “Excellent! Then let us seal the deal in proper Orc fashion” The Delegater hoarked back and spat a massive wad of snot into his hand. He held it out for you to shake. You looked a bit hesitant. “Nasty” you heard Bull say, clearly impressed. You reached out to shake. Your hand fully submerging in the warm slime. “Mind if I get in on this?” Bull said. The Delegater nodded. Bull, more eagerly reached out and joined your hand in the snot. The Delegater closed his fist and shook both of your hands. “Now we are bound. We are allies” “Fucking Gross” Bull said as he watched the snot ooze out of the fist. “I fucking love these guys.”

#Dragon Age #Iron Bull #Inquisitor #Orcs #Giants #Stinkface #Farts

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