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oitommothetease · 3 years

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Invisible String (2/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Description: James Buchanan Barnes, the owner of the most expensive-looking club in town and your new apartment. He was a dick and you hated him. What could possibly go wrong when you, the new girl in town, start bartending at his club to pursue your dreams?

Warning: Sexual assault, mention of an anxiety attack.

Word Count: 1641

It turns out you definitely can't do this. Working in retail sucks, majorly. Customers are so awful to you and other employees as well. You didn't make the products, you don't control the prices, then why should you listen to them rant about it all day?

This job was from 9 am to 4 pm, which reminded you a lot of your previous job. By the time you got home, you were exhausted mentally and physically. Your current schedule was eerily similar to your previous lifestyle, which left you with no time to work on your book.

You felt like you were stuck in an insufferable loop that you just can't seem to escape no matter how hard you try. You thought about Mr. Barnes a lot, too. If only you weren't so egoistic and been a little nicer, then maybe you could have had that job.

With each passing day, you were becoming desperate. The only reason why you didn't run to Mr. Barnes a week ago was your pride. A pride that would not let you bow down to that rude, egoistic asshole.

It's like the universe could hear your thoughts and the devil himself walked through the doors of the store. Fuck, he can't see you here. He's going to think you're some nut job who's chasing stupid dreams after having an excellent degree. At least that's what your parents think.

You were about to run and hide behind an aisle when the voice you knew too well called out for you.

"Hey, do you know where I could find-"

"You," He said, without an emotion. "What are you doing here?"

You pointed towards the badge with the name tag on your shirt and mouthed working.

"Why?"

"Why?" You pretended to think, "I don't know, I interviewed for this other job about a week ago, but the boss was an ass."

"You lied to me," he stated as if it wasn't the most obvious thing.

"Gee, sorry, dad."

"You're doing it again."

"Doing what again?" You questioned.

" Diverging a question with a joke," He answered with an unaffected tone like he was studying you and your reaction.

"You know who I am." he stated. It should have been a question, but both of you were aware of what he meant.

"A vampire?" You mocked. He didn't look like one though, but hey, neither did Edward nor Stefan. But God, those steel-blue eyes could drink you up and you wouldn't complain. Focus.

For the first time you saw an emotion on his face that wasn't unaffected or bored, he was confused. Of course, he was confused, you were referencing twilight to a mob boss (you think, you weren't sure, but that's all you could gather from all the articles you found about him online).

"I need that job," you confessed. " I know it's not very convincing, but I need you to trust me-"

He raised a brow at that and his lips turned into a smirk. God, you wished you could swipe off that smirk from his stupidly handsome face.

"But you don't trust me, " you stated dejectedly and started turning around. "You wanted something? "

In an instant, his hand wrapped around your wrist gently, stopping you in your tracks. You ignored the involuntary shudder that ran through you and immediately yanked your hand out of his grasp.

You turned around and were about to give him a piece of your mind about how he shouldn't just come to your place of work and touch you without consent. He clearly guessed your thoughts and cut in.

"Clint Barton, the manager, he will tell you everything you need to know about bartending and handling the customers."

Did he just hire you? What changed between this and your previous meeting with him?

And just like that, he left. There was a part of you that wanted to say fuck off I don't need your help, but you knew better, so you went to that club later that evening. You found the Manager, Clint. He told you he was expecting your arrival and that made you feel weird because Mr. Barnes was totally opposite the day you met.

Your new job required you to be at work from 8 pm to 3 am, which was ideal for you. You usually reach home and pass out till 4 in the morning and wake up around noon. This schedule gave you a lot of time to work on your book.

You ended up making friends with some other people that work there as well. Wanda was the smart, sarcastic one that you'd have died to have as a friend in high school. Pietro, her twin brother, was also nice, a bit fast and impatient, but he was nice to you. Peter looked very young, but he knew what he was doing and he'd help you out a lot. That kid had a lot of energy and adrenaline, which surprised you every time he'd be done with work way before you.

You didn't see Mr. Barnes frequently. You saw him one time entering the club, and you tried to give him a smile which he ignored and went straight to his office upstairs. And then you decided to ignore him as well. It wasn't like you to be petty, okay, maybe you were being petty, but in your defense, he started it.

You were finishing up cleaning the table and were about to call it a day when a man you didn't recognize, probably wasn't a regular, came in asking for a drink.

"I'm sorry, sir. We're closed." You told him politely.

"Whiskey on the rocks."

You wanted to refuse him again, but you stopped yourself when he came into your sight. He didn't look like the kind of man who'd take your no seriously. He looked just as intimidating as Mr. Barnes, even more, but Mr. Barnes knew his boundaries, whereas this man in front of you evidently didn't. You could tell this by the way his gaze was slowly taking your body in and stopping a little longer at your cleavage.

You wanted to cringe and curse yourself for choosing to wear a top like that in a place filled with drunk men. The smarter part of your brain told you that he can go fuck himself, and you shouldn't think about men when you dress up. Women are entitled to wear whatever they want to and fuck men and people who tell them otherwise.

Carefully, you made his drink and handed it to him. His hand lingered on yours while taking the glass from you, and you wanted to just throw the drink across his face. His gaze remained on your chest even when you fixed your top and coughed twice to call his behavior out.

"What time do you get off?" he asked, eyes still on your chest.

Is this guy for real? , you thought.

"Um, this is highly inappropriate and I think you should leave now because I have to call it a night." you rejected politely, raising your hand towards the door, hoping he'd leave.

He chuckled darkly, his stare still drinking in your body as if you were a piece of meat, and it made you very, very uncomfortable. He obviously wasn't taking no for an answer, and you had no clue what to do. You were the only person left, and you didn't even know who to ask for help.

"Come on, baby girl," he said, walking towards you and forcefully snaking his hands around your waist to settle on your hips. " Don't make this harder than it should be. "

"No!" you yelled, pushing him away and creating some distance between you.

"Hard way it is then," he decided, walking towards you and forcefully holding the hem of your shirt in his hands to remove it. You struggled, yelled, and pushed him off you again. He furiously lunged forward towards you and hit you hard across the face. "Fucking bitch."

"Rumlow!" a voice boomed from behind you, and you hated yourself for being in such a vulnerable state. As much as you tried not to, tears welled up in your eyes and you hated being the helpless damsel in distress.

"Get the fuck out of here." the familiar voice ordered.

"Chill, Barnes. We were just having a little fun," the man known as Rumlow reasoned nonchalantly. "Besides, it's not my fault if she wears clothes like this."

You were all about feminism and how women should be treated equally with respect despite their attire, but at that moment you hated yourself for choosing that deep-neck shirt this morning.

"I'm not going to chill while you sexually harass my employees, so get the fuck out of here," Mr. Barnes warned again.

You closed your eyes and hoped that maybe this was a shitty dream and you'd wake up in your bed and have an anxiety attack because of the nightmare. You hoped that maybe the ground beneath you would open up and swallow you, so you could just not think about this ever.

You heard two sets of footsteps faintly in the background, one dragging its way away from you and the other rushing towards you. Furthermore, you didn't have it in you to open your eyes and meet the ocean blue ones that you knew were waiting for you.

In your head, you had already taken up the blame. The verdict came out the moment his gaze landed on your chest that it was your fault that you wore this shirt. Of course, if you were thinking right, you would have realized that you were undoubtedly the victim here and Rumlow was an asshole who assaulted you, but in your helpless state, your mind decided you were at fault here.

TAGS: @bananapipedreams

#mobster bucky #mob bucky #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mobbucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #mob!bucky series #bucky series #bucky barnes #bucky barnes series

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imaginejamesandsirius · 4 years

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A, The Bachelor AU please?

Sirius hated this show. He really, truly did. A whole bunch of desperate women who'd been told they were worthless for half their lives felt pressured into auditioning because they were the scandalous age of twenty-four and not yet married. And then there were the bloody men that signed on, looking forward to free dates and sex (in the later episodes) without having to do any of the legwork of actually finding dates.

That being said, Sirius wasn't so secure in his finances that he could afford to quit. As part of the crew, he had all his expenses paid for for the duration of the season, and a hefty check to go home with. If he thought that he could get work somewhere else, he would. He'd applied and been rejected more times than he could count, and the longer he worked on The Bachelor, the harder it was for non-reality shows to consider him. He'd only gotten onto this show because Remus had already been working on it. To be fair to Remus, he'd warned Sirius that it was horrible from the very beginning, but the bills had started piling up and being a waiter just wasn't cutting it.

While he was working, he kept his mind on the framing of the shot and not anything that was happening inside of it. It was only when the work was done for the day that he let himself complain, even in his head.

He was so used to ignoring all of the people that appeared in front of the camera that he almost tripped over his feet when he saw who the Bachelor this season was. Bloody gorgeous was the only phrase coming to mind, and he couldn't get his brain to work past that. All the past Bachelors that Sirius had met looked basically the same. White skin, light brown hair, vague five o'clock shadow, and a smile that looked like it had been purchased directly from a dentist's advert. They were never really skin or really buff, just somewhere in the middle, but not so much in the middle that they'd be considered out of shape; it was so much nothing that it drove Sirius up the bloody wall.

This guy though, he looked nothing like the others. He could've been plucked directly from Sirius's imagination. He reminded Sirius a lot of James, his boyfriend from secondary school. They'd broken up when James went back to India for uni, and he hadn't heard from him since.

Sirius cocked his head, then gaped. That was James. What the sodding hell was he doing here? "James?" he blurted.

James looked over when he heard his name, then grinned. It still made Sirius's heart stutter in his chest. "Sirius? Bugger, it's good to see you." He hugged him, and Sirius hugged him back automatically. He felt the same way in Sirius's arms as he remembered, even though they were both older.

"What the hell are you doing here? I didn't think this sort of show was your thing."

James's mouth twisted. "I lost a bet. In my defense, I never thought they'd actually accept me. Lily couldn't stop laughing when I got the news."

"You still talk to Lily?"

"Well, she ended up at the same uni as me, so it was easy. Plus she didn't speak any Hindi when she first got there, so she kind of needed someone to help translate." James gave a helpless shrug. "I tried to look you up, but you weren't talking to your parents anymore, so."

"Yeah." He hadn't wanted to be easy to find, but that was because of his family, not anything to do with long lost friends. He didn't feel like explaining that, but James probably knew it anyways. "So if you don't want to be here for the usual reasons, what are you planning on doing?"

James shrugged again, looking supremely uncomfortable. "I dunno. When it gets to the end, I guess I could just not give a rose to either of them and that would work, right?"

"Not sure," Sirius admitted. There was a formula to how the show was supposed to go, but they broke the rules every once in a while if they thought it made it more interesting. "They might have you fake it just to have a finale," he said, because they'd done shite like that before.

"Really? They'd do that?"

"It's a scripted show, mate."

"Great," James said flatly. "I'm really looking forward to this."

"Kinda sounds like you shouldn't have lost the bet."

"Shouldn't you be on my side?" James asked.

"How would that be funny?"

James snorted, then made a disgusted face when someone called his name. "See you later?" he asked hopefully, taking slow steps backwards so they knew he'd heard them.

"Definitely."

James grinned before leaving, and it lit up his entire face.

Sirius's heart ached for a moment. Good to know that he was still in love with James even though it had been years. Their break up had been sad, but inevitable. James had known where he was going to uni since before they'd even met (let alone started dating), and it would've been stupid for him to have changed his plans for Sirius. Even if he'd offered to stay, Sirius would've insisted that he go. Maybe, since James wasn't here for the relationship promised at the end of the show, Sirius could see if he was interested in getting back together.

"Was that James?" Remus asked, and Sirius jumped; he'd been so caught up in his own thoughts that he hadn't heard him coming.

"Yeah," Sirius said.

Remus kindly did not mention that he'd surprised him. "Huh. I didn't know he was back in the country. I talked to Lily last week and she didn't mention it. What's he doing here? You back together?"

"Not yet," Sirius said automatically, then had to correct himself. "I mean, I have to ask him if he's still interested. He's not here for me."

"Then what's he doing here?"

"He's this season's bachelor. He lost a bet," Sirius said, preempting the next question.

"Fucking hell," Remus muttered. "This'll be interesting."

James showed up at Sirius's door-- Sirius didn't have to ask to know that Remus had told him which room he was in-- that night when shooting was done. "That was miserable."

"I'll only get worse," Sirius warned. "After they start pretending to actually like you, they get more catty."

"What makes you think they won't like me? I'm a damn catch."

Sirius snorted, shoving at his shoulder.

James caught his hand before he could pull away. Their eyes met. And held.

Mark that down as definitely still interested, Sirius thought to himself, somewhat giddily. Neither of them said anything, but sometimes they didn't need to. This was how it had all started for them at Hogwarts. They'd had to reassure each other after a while that yes they fancied each other and wanted to date, but that initial interest had been easy to spot-- and it was the same now as it had been then.

"I really missed you," James whispered.

"I missed you too. Kinda sucked not being able to talk to you."

"Yeah," James said with a crooked smile. He let go of Sirius's hand and turned to face him a little more fully. "Look, I know it's... been a while, and maybe you're dating someone else-"

"I'm not."

"Good to hear," James said, fondness seeping into his expression. "I know the timing's utter shite-- with the show and everything-- but I'd like to give us another try. I mean, we were good together. Really good."

"We were," Sirius agreed, smiling at him return. "How about this. We work on the show in the day, and at night, we just... do this. Talk. Catch up. If we're both still interested when filming's done, then we can talk about where we go from there."

"Should I start working on my talking points now or?"

Sirius snorted. He'd missed this.

As it turned out, the producers opted to let James choose neither of the finalists because they had enough footage to make up the drama elsewhere. James was unspeakably relieved about that, and if he was honest, Sirius was happy about it too; he knew that it wouldn't have meant anything if James had had to pretend to choose one of the contestants, but it was nice all the same.

Because James was an absolute sap, when he went to Sirius that night, he brought him a red rose. He even had a little smile on his face like he knew exactly how corny it was and loved it for that very reason. "Do you accept this rose?" James asked.

"You're so buggering stupid," Sirius said, the words not near enough to hide the blush on his face.

"That's not the line."

"I'm making it one," Sirius said. He snatched the rose from James and pulled him into a kiss.

#prongsfoot #marauders #sirius black #james potter #fanfic #filled #no magic au #post hogwarts #getting together #siriuslystarbucks #Anonymous

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yandere-society · 4 years

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Day 10 | Home For Christmas

Synopsis: The two new hot guys next door are super friendly and very helpful! Especially since you’ve injured your leg and now are forced to prance around in your wheelchair. They came over to your house, put up decorations, helped you bake and kept you company when you couldn’t be home for Christmas. Although now that you think about it, they’re a little too friendly…to the point you can’t tell them no.

The 12 Days of Black Christmas Event Masterlist

Pairing: Namhope x Female Reader

Admin: @roses-ruby

Trigger warnings: Yandere themes, Obsessive behavior, Murder, Physical abuse, kidnapping

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

🎶You can plan on me

Please have snow and mistletoe

And presents on the tree🎶

“Oop, let me get that for you-”

Your outstretched hand stops midair, head turning to face the tall dimpled man on your left. He smiled at you fondly and you felt your cheeks warming.

“Thank you.” You say, pushing yourself back to make room for his long legs. Namjoon shifts, taking the red ornament out of your hand, and placing it on a high branch. You watch silently as he tinkers with the small toy stockings, humming along to Crosby’s I’ll be home for Christmas which continually rung throughout the house from your mom’s old record player on the back shelf. Suddenly, he makes eye contact with you again, his eyes turning into little crescents as his mouth stretches, leaving you blushing and turning away. It wasn’t something you could help.

Since the first time you laid eyes on him, you’ve always thought he was so freaking hot. Speaking of hotties-

“Alright, the pie is done!” A shout comes from behind you, making you turn your head as the wheels of your chair rotate back. A man with a heart-shaped smile and eyes brighter than the sun steps out of the kitchen in his pink frilly apron, setting down the holiday pie on the table directly in front. One whiff of the sweet desert has your mouth watering in delight.

“It smells delicious, Hoseok! You both are so kind…thank you for everything.”

Said man laughs, the melodious sound echoing the walls along with the music, “Nonsense, we’re always here to help.”

“Exactly, that’s what neighbors are for.” Namjoon chirped, walking over to where Hoseok stood. He took a glance at the pie and then poked the top, immediately being reprimanded by Hoseok’s oven mitt hand.

“Don’t do that, you’ll ruin it.”

Namjoon retracts his hand, resembling a kicked puppy, “I just thought it looked cool. You don’t have to be so mean.”

“Well maybe I wouldn’t be if you didn’t just drop the eggnog on yourself this morning, while standing completely still.”

“Hey! That was an accident!”

You gaze in confusion as the men began to argue, an amused sigh leaving your lips.

Namjoon and Hoseok were the two sexy guys from next door, helping you around the house while you sat there helpless with a broken leg, as well as your lovely new best friends. They had moved into the apartment next door back in July, before the start of the fall semester. It was a breath of fresh air honestly, as your last neighbor was a cranky old lady with way too many mean cats. You weren’t sure what happened to her, but you weren’t complaining once you ran into Joon in the hallway as he carried large boxes into his apartment.

His muscles ripped through his loose grey tank top and his arm flexed while he lugged the heavy load. He was tall, jacked, smart, kind and very dorky. You almost fell in love at first sight. Then there was his sun in human form roommate, Hoseok. Now, Hoseok may not have been as giant or as muscular as Namjoon, but his bright personality, social nature and lethal moves did not lose to anyone. Millions of women would become wet in a matter of seconds from the way he twisted his hips. Millions more at Namjoon’s deep honey voice.

You were blessed to have such hotties living next door.

Because of their approachable nature, they befriended you very quickly. It went from small talks in the hallway to long conversations as you rested on your couch. From shy glances here and there a few times a week to seeing one another daily. They had practically moved in. Their shoes were always in your house, you had bought them their own pair of toothbrushes for your bathroom and they even had a small section of their clothes in your closet. You all even started heading to classes together.

Of course, you had lusted for them in the beginning. Sometime their gazes were intense, and it seemed like they were eye-fucking you. Other times they seemed to get very jealous if you had anyone else in your apartment or if you went anywhere without telling them. But you knew it was all in your imagination. It’s not their fault if they just couldn’t help but ooze sex appeal which made you imagine the two hot guys next door – your best friends – being obsessed with you. As of now you were fine with the wonderful friendship you were able to build with them. Better off as friends as they say.

You had been quite lonely when you moved into the big city, away from your family who you were always close to. Your dad had warned you about the many dangers of the city so you made sure to stay safe and away from those who could wish you harm. Joon and Hoseok were the first people that made you open yourself up and for that you were grateful. It was very fun to spend your days being tutored by Namjoon or laughing at Hoseok. Though you still longed for your family when the holiday season arrived. Sadly, as you were making plans to visit home, someone had decided to push you down the University’s stairs which resulted in a horribly broken leg bone and a laggy wheelchair.

No one saw who did it.

Unable to fly, you were stuck in your small apartment for all of the festive season. The first night you had cried a lot on the phone with your mother, but your amazing best friends had barged in and promised to make this the best Christmas you’ve ever had right here in the apartment. They were so serious about it, they hadn’t let you leave the place even for a bit. Decorations, entertainment, food, they had it all planned out and thanks to them, you were able to have one of the merriest Christmas eve’s of your life.

🎶Christmas Eve will find me

Where the love light gleams🎶

The music from the record player wakes you from your daze, your eyes once again concentrating on the two bickering men in front of the dinner table.

With a smile, you turn back around to the pine tree, to see it filled with many kinds of decorations and ornaments. Yet it was still missing something. A small pout forms on your lips as you recall the weeping phone conversation you had with your mother. You had told her to send your favorite ornament – a small marbled turtle dove, over to your place so you had something from home you could cherish this year. It was a keepsake from your childhood and had many memories attached to it. Tomorrow was Christmas and you wondered why it hadn’t arrived already.

Maybe the front desk has it?

It wasn’t like you could call them, phone reception in your apartment had been getting worse and worse for some reason. With a sigh, you rotate back around to see Namjoon and Hoseok arguing about the dinner plates. If you use the elevator, you could rush downstairs, inquire about any packages and rush back upstairs without either of them noticing,

Nodding to yourself, you wheel your chair to the front door. You quietly pull open the door as Joon and Hobi’s voices and I’ll be home for Christmas continue to surround the background. With a few swift moves, you were in the hallway, heading for the elevator.

For some reason you felt uneasy. The same feeling you got before you were pushed down the stairs. You stopped in front of the lift, pressing the button and waiting anxiously for its arrival. The door of the elevator opened quickly to your relief and as soon as you were about to roll in-

-a deafening scream of your name pierces through the quiet hallway and startles you.

Immediately you were being pulled away from the elevator, pushed back into the hallway you came from and shoved inside your apartment as the door banged shut behind you. It was deathly lull, all you could hear was your heavy breathing even though you hadn’t moved an inch and the old Christmas song still repeating. Slowly you turn around to face the entrance and were met by the raging scowls of Namjoon and Hoseok.

A chill runs down your spine at the fury in their eyes.

“W-w-wha-”

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Hoseok growls, and you gasp at the venom in his tone. This was not the cheerful, loving Hoseok you knew.

“Seriously ___,” Namjoon groans, voice slightly tamer than Hoseok’s, “How could you leave the second we weren’t looking?”

“N-no I-”

“This is your fault.” Joon spits at Hoseok “I told you to break both of her legs so she couldn’t move at all.”

Your jaw hangs open.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I kill the old lady, I push ___ down the stairs, I set up that complicated ass box that blocks the cell signals and what do YOU do exactly?’

All the information was speeding around your brain and you could feel yourself choking up. Did he just say kill?

“You’re the one who wanted to do all that! Always fucking criticizing me for being clumsy and shit- fuck, I plan, YOU execute, remember?”

As they begin to argue once again, you start shaking in your seat. Murderers. Not only did you befriend the people who were responsible for your broken leg, but you had let actual murderers into your home. Suddenly everything started to make sense. Your neighbor lady suddenly disappearing. You always running into them whether in your complex, university or even the store. In fact, you always felt they were a bit too pushy with their help, but you didn’t want to be mean. The over-friendly skin ship and how they constantly made you feel guilty until you blocked all the other people from your life. How they pushed themselves and their belongings into your apartment.

How they made your home their home.

Holy shit…shitshitshit what were you going to do now? Who could you call? Where would you go with this broken leg? How would you escape? They could do whatever they want to you and they knew it.

“-__?...___!” The sound of your name jolts you. Hoseok sits on his knees, eye level with you as Joon sits beside him, equally concerned. “___, are you alright?”

This…this was the Hoseok and Namjoon you know. The ones who infiltrated your life with their handsome faces and kind personalities. When you don’t answer him, he cups your face causing you to stiffen.

“Hey don’t worry. I know we argued a lot, but it’s fine now. Since you’re here…since we have you…just don’t leave us again.” He states gently, tilting his head to the side like an insane person. “Instead, why don’t we go eat that pie, hmm?”

You could feel your pupils shaking as you look into his bottomless orbs. Though you were in your own home, you have never been more afraid.

“He’s right you know.”

You turn to Namjoon beside him who places his hand above your limp one. The very first tear drops out of your socket as you find him smiling. How you wish you could have found the sinister reality of his dimpled smile those thousand times he’s shown it to you before.

“We have you and you have us. So, if you leave us like that again, we’ll be very upset…we may lose our temper and who knows what we would do…just…You should stay home for Christmas, alright?”

And as soon as he says that the stupid never-ending song repeats its end once more.

🎶I'll be home for Christmas

If only in my dreams🎶

#bts #namjoon #jhope #hoseok #yandere bts #yandere namjoon #yandere jhope #yandere hoseok #rm #yandere rm #bts x reader #yandere x reader

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sinsbymanka · 4 years

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A Drabble to Celebrate 100+ followers?!

I recently noticed that somehow this humble little dragon age blog managed to obtain one hundred followers. Which is just insane to me. I can’t believe y’all like me. I’m going to assume that most of you are here for the memes (as you should be - they’re hilarious) BUT I wanted to give you something to celebrate anyway. It’s not a meme, but it’s an adorable Papa!Varric piece that is pure fluff and domestic bliss. Enjoy!

I also posted this at AO3 cause I really like it

The Perks of Being the Viscount

Being Viscount had remarkably few perks.

In fact, Varric thought, the perks were usually nearly as bad as the job duties itself. He wasn’t particularly interested in the choice society invitations, didn’t care for the gaudy gifts or sizable bribes that kept showing up, and if he had to accept one more honor at one more boring ceremony, he’d fall asleep into his overcooked chicken dinner.

But moments like this, when he had a room full of shocked, pompous assholes who could do nothing but stare, agog, nearly made it all worth it.

As usual, his daughter had started the whole debacle.

Marguerite Cadash-Tethras sat beside him, book discarded. She told him she was reading one of Brother Genitivi’s histories for her tutors, but now that she’d abandoned the tome to satisfy her own curiosity, he could see she had a copy of the latest popular ballad shoved between the pages. She could be bored with Genetivi and her lessons, but Varric thought it was more likely she’d finished the damn thing a week ago and her tutor had been too daft to notice.

Clearly, she needed something more challenging. And maybe a tiny lecture about not fleecing her tutors on the regular.

But, first, he was going to sit back and enjoy the show. He let his eyes flick from his daughter’s profile to the redhead beside her who was suddenly very engrossed in her tea, cheerfully stirring it with far too much vigor. Varric couldn’t miss the mischievous glimmer in Maria’s eyes after all these years, though, and it only meant one thing.

They were both on the same page. This meeting was going to get a hell of a lot more interesting, and they were definitely both just going to let it happen.

Their daughter stared down the merchant princes from Antiva on the other end of the table like she’d been doing it all of her twelve years on Thedas. And, really, that wasn’t too far off the mark. When Maria was gone, which was far too often for his taste, Mags hated to be separated from Varric. To be honest, he rested a bit easier with his daughter only an arm’s length away too. It became just one more of the Viscount’s eccentricities, that the daughter sat in on so many of his meetings, accompanied him on his duties, and was generally allowed to ask as many impertinent questions as she wished.

Clearly, nobody had warned the Antivans.

“I’m sorry, milord?” One of the men turned his attention from Mags’s piercing gray eyes to Varric, clearly confused about who had asked the question. Varric fought back his chuckle. Barely.

“Sunshine.” He inclined his head towards Mags, indulgent and amused. “I don’t think the gentleman heard your question. Go ahead and ask again.”

“If he doesn’t answer you this time, Magpie, we can write it down. Or do a dramatic reenactment. Maybe that’ll do the trick.” Maria whispered theatrically, the words carrying across the table. The ears on several of the merchants began to turn interesting shades of red.

This, Varric thought fondly, was the only real perk of this job. Bringing one and a half unmanageable women to boring meetings just to see what trouble they stirred up.

“I asked,” Mags raised her voice, young face quite serious and earnest. “Why are they so cheap?”

The object of her question, a long broadsword, lay in front of one of the merchant princes. He pulled a practiced, false smile onto his face. One that managed to be just the right amount of patronizing. His daughter pulled her shoulders back immediately, seriousness becoming irritation. “Why, milady, what a clever question. I’d heard you had your father’s mind and your mother’s beauty. How pleased I am to find it so.”

“But you’re not answering it.” She stated stubbornly, flicking her eyes uncertainly to Varric. He nodded, reassuring, and waved at her to continue. She did. “Why are they so cheap?”

“We have recently been able to refine our smelting process, milady.” The man droned, eloquent and practiced. “With less waste, we…”

“But Orzammar has the best smiths, and their blades cost twice as much.” Mags argued, her own color rising, looking helplessly to her mother. “How much is iron ore? Aveline said it was more expensive ‘cause of a flood.”

“40 silvers per pound right now, love.” Maria answered deftly, lips twitching at the corners as she struggled to hide her own smile.

“How much do you swords weigh?” Mags asked the merchant.

The man sputtered, helpless. “Milady, I’m uncertain…”

Mags sighed, impatient, twisting in her chair to pierce one of the guards at the door with her bright gaze. “Kallen? How much does your sword weigh?”

Kallen tipped his head to the side, considering. “About three pounds, miss. Give or take.”

“Thank you.” Mags said quickly, twisting back in her seat. “If a broadsword weighs three pounds, that sword costs over a sovereign alone in materials, assuming your smelting produces no waste. You’re only charging two sovereigns per piece. Why?”

“As a special offer to the Viscount and his lady…” The merchant began nervously, pointing his eyes back at Varric in a silent plea to end the interrogation.

“Oh, leave me out of this mess.” Maria muttered into her tea. “I don’t want your bleedin’ swords. The ones Aveline has are fine.”

“Well, Sunshine.” Varric jumped in, resting his arm on the back of Mags’s chair. “I think you’ve pointed out a bit of a problem.”

“Milord, you cannot seriously be considering allowing a child to…” The man stepped forward, face growing thunderous with anger. Maria shifted in her own chair, always alert for danger, gently setting her cup down on the saucer and sending a cold, commanding gaze across the room.

“I think, perhaps.” Maria said pointedly. “You’ve overstayed your welcome.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Princess. But it’s your call, Sunshine.” He winked down at his daughter’s pinkening face, her temper coloring her skin the same way Maria’s always did. “You wanna make him squirm a bit more?”

“No.” Mags said petulantly, picking her book back up and curling into her chair. “He can go.”

“You heard the lady.” Varric jerked his thumb over his chair. “I trust you can find the exit.”

The merchant and his entourage stalked out of the room, complaining in Antivan the whole time. Maria caught some of it, most likely the curse words, because she laughed softly as the door slammed shut behind them.

“Nicely done, Magpie.” Maria praised, winding one of their daughter’s curls around her finger.

“What do you think the issue is with the swords?” Varric asked, curious. Mags scowled into her book moodily, wrenching away from Maria’s clever hand.

“They’re not iron or they’re not payin’ anyone to forge them.” She grumbled. “Which you two knew before we even got in here, didn’t you?”

“Guilty.” Varric admitted. “But we needed to give Aveline time to raid the warehouse.”

“Why couldn’t I go with Aveline to raid the warehouse?” Mags asked, frowning. Maria and Varric shared a tender, amused look over her head.

“Well.” Maria began, half-laughing. “You are only twelve and we’re trying to get you to eighteen with minimal bloodshed.”

“And…” Varric quickly reached into the book, pulling the loose papers of the story from within and shaking them pointedly. “Someone has some apologizing to do to at least one tutor.”

Mags’s sullen expression quickly lightened into something contrite. “I can explain.”

“Make it a good one, Sunshine.” Varric said, settling into his chair. “And I may let you off easy.”

#varric romance #varric tethras #inquisitor x varric #inquisitor cadash #dragon age inquisition #postdai #maria cadash #cadash x varric #tethras child character #family fluff #family feels

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thegizka · 5 years

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Growing Into It (fic)

Shikamaru experiments with facial hair, but not everyone is a fan.

Written for Shikamaru Week 2019 Day 2: Growth

Read it on Ao3.

“Whoa.” Ino stopped in the doorway, pure surprise on her face. “What’s with your face?”

Typical Ino. She didn’t pull any punches.

“What do you mean, what’s with my face? It’s the same as it always is.”

“You’re saying you usually look like the wrong end of a raccoon?”

“Ha ha,” he laughed without mirth.

“I think he looks fine,” Chouji said, pushing past their startled teammate.

“No offense Chouji, but you’re not exactly what I’d call a fashion icon.”

“You said my goatee looks great!”

“A little bit of facial hair goes a long way. Besides, you have the right face shape for it. Shikamaru’s is too thin for a beard.”

“You’re just overreacting because it took you by surprise,” Shikamaru grumbled. He really didn’t care whether Ino approved of his beard or not, but he knew she was determined to voice her opinion whether he cared or not.

“It’s weird,” she returned matter-of-factly. “Temari, you agree, right?”

Shikamaru’s fiancée had just entered the room, drawn by the sound of their friends arriving.

“Are we talking about his face? Yeah, it’s weird.” She shot Shikamaru a devious smirk. She knew she was only adding fuel to Ino’s fire, but she was always ready to see him get roasted. He just rolled his eyes in return.

“See? Temari agrees with me. It’s ugly.”

“Just because something’s weird doesn’t mean it’s ugly. I mean, look at Sai.”

“Hey!” She bristled. “At least Sai has the common sense not to grow dumb facial hair!”

“Be nice,” Temari chided, smacking the back of his head.

“Wait, why am I being yelled at? I was saying Sai’s not ugly.”

“But you did say he was weird.” Ino was glaring at him with the full force of her fury, which seemed incredibly unfair considering she had called her husband weird on several occasions.

“Come on, Ino. You know Shikamaru didn’t mean anything mean by it.” Chouji smiled at her appeasingly, always ready to try and smooth over an uncomfortable situation. It was a shame he had such stubborn teammates whose conversations usually included an argument of some sort.

“He does have a habit of saying dumb things,” Temari added, giving her fiancé a pointed look. He wasn’t getting out of this situation unscathed. Why were the women in his life so troublesome?

“I’m sorry,” he said, barely sincere enough to not sound rude. “I like Sai. He’s a great guy. And he’s not as weird as he used to be.”

She continued glaring at him. Was it a half-hearted apology? Perhaps, but it was truthful. They had spent years complaining at each other and working on the same team, so much so that they knew exactly how each other thought. Of course Ino understood that he didn’t really mean to throw shade at her husband, and he knew she wasn’t actually that offended. Arguing was simply a habit, the language of two siblings who simultaneously drove each other crazy and were fiercely protective of each other.

Eventually she rolled her eyes and let it go. “Temari, since you’re the sensible one in this relationship, shall we get to work planning your wedding, since that’s what I was invited over here to do?”

“Sounds wonderful. Where do you want to start?”

Shikamaru gave Chouji a helpless glance as they took seats around the table, Ino dumping binders and folders of papers and ideas in front of them. Having recently gotten married herself, she was full of suggestions and insights to help them arrange their big day. When Shikamaru and Temari had finally decided to get married, neither had been particularly interested in all of the details of the ceremony and reception, but as the reality of their decision and commitment to each other set in, Temari had gotten really invested. Ino was eager to help her work out the details, which was a relief to both of them as Shikamaru rarely had any strong opinions on the matter. He liked to invite Chouji to these planning meetings to help provide some relief from the women’s intensity.

As usually happened, the men stuck around for the first half hour or so, contributing a few opinions or simply their token approval before finding a reason to drift away and let the women work out the particulars. Today they ended up out on the porch, sprawled across the steps sharing some of Chouji’s snacks.

“So the beard,” Shikamaru began. “It’s not that bad, is it?”

“I think it looks fine. Maybe a little sparse in parts, but you just started growing it, right? I’m sure it’ll fill out in a few more weeks.”

He grunted, absentmindedly scratching his cheek. It was kind of weird to find hair where he had once shaved, but he didn’t mind not having to get out his razor in the mornings. It meant more time he could spend lying in bed mentally preparing for the day.

“Are you growing a beard because Asuma had one?”

Chouji’s question was a little unexpected while at the same time exactly what he had expected. Sometimes his best friend could see right to the root of things faster than he could think through them. Shikamaru shrugged, letting out a long breath and leaning back on his elbows. They sat in silence for a moment, letting the weight of their sensei’s memory sit with them.

“That might be part of it. But I guess I also wanted to feel...older? I dunno. All of our friends are getting married, and now so am I, but sometimes it feels like we only just graduated from the academy. I know I still have a lot to learn and figure out, but there are also people looking to me to teach them and offer advice. It’s just weird.”

“I think it’s always going to be like that, though.” Chouji munched on a potato chip before offering his friend the bag. “I mean, there will always be things that we’ll have to learn, right? And really, we are still pretty young. But that just means we still have people we can ask for advice, and then pass that on to the people who ask us. It’s the Will of Fire, right?”

“Yeah.” Shikamaru let the silence stretch again. Logically he understood exactly what Chouji was saying, but he still felt strangely stuck between youth and maturity. Was he really old enough to get married? Of course he was committed to Temari and determined to spend the rest of his life with her, but some days it felt like he could barely take care of himself. Was he ready to be responsible for her happiness, too?

“Your dad had a goatee, too.”

He glanced at Chouji, but his friend seemed focused on the clouds and his snacks. They had never said much about Shikaku’s death. The war hadn’t offered much of a chance to process the loss, leaving Shikamaru hollow and aching as he found himself navigating his daily routine without the familiar presence of his father. Suddenly he was the head of his clan, responsible for their medical research, the forest with its deer, and the general well-being of his extended family, to say nothing of his duties in the Hokage’s office. He hadn’t realized the extent of his father’s responsibilities until they crashed down upon his shoulders. There was an emptiness where Shikaku had once been, and somehow he was supposed to fill it. It was another thing making him feel too young and too old at the same time.

“I bet you’d look alright with one,” Chouji continued, gently pulling Shikamaru up from the depths of his thoughts. “Plus we’d kind of match!”

“It’s an idea. Pass me another chip, will you?”

“Look at them, out here stuffing their faces while we’ve been working hard. Weddings don’t plan themselves, you know!”

He dropped his head back, giving him an upside down view of Ino and Temari standing in the doorway pretending to be annoyed.

“You could have called us if you needed us.”

“Well we’re done for today, so I’m heading home.” Ino brushed her long hair back over her shoulder in a semi-dismissive gesture.

“I suppose I’d better get home, too.” Chouji stood, and with a sigh, the final member of Team Ten followed suit. “See you later, Shikamaru. Bye, Temari.”

They exchanged goodbyes, Ino throwing in a last pointed comment at her friend’s beard as she went. He couldn’t stop a smile from quirking his lips after he closed the door behind her. They hadn’t outgrown their bickering, and at this point, he wasn’t sure they ever would.

“So, what did you decide today?” he asked Temari, settling onto the couch beside her.

“Well, we mostly talked about flowers-”

“Didn’t you talk about flowers last time?”

She shot him a you’re-absolutely-clueless look with her sharp teal eyes. “Those were flowers for the ceremony. Today we discussed flowers for the reception.”

“We need more flowers? Are you sure this isn’t just a plot for Ino to generate more business?”

“Do you want to hear what we decided or not?” she demanded. He held up his hands in surrender and allowed her to proceed unhindered. He cared less about what she actually said than how she looked recounting the plans. She tried to hide it, but she was actually really excited about their wedding, and he loved watching her joy shining through her usually controlled expressions. It was so genuine that his heart swelled with love, and he couldn’t help but lean in to kiss her cheek.

“Oh!” she jerked away from him with a surprised gasp.

“What?” he asked, suddenly on alert. But the next moment she was laughing.

“I’m sorry,” she giggled. “It’s your beard! I’m not used to it yet. It caught me by surprise.” She cupped his face and kissed him through a few residual giggles. When she pulled away, she had a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“It is a little weird,” she stressed, giggling again. He rolled his eyes before pulling her back to him.

The next time Ino stopped by to discuss the wedding, several weeks had passed. Shikamaru’s beard had started filling out, but after staring longer than he’d like to admit in the mirror, he saw what she had meant about it looking weird. He also remembered Chouji’s subtle suggestion of the goatee.

When Ino saw him, she froze in the doorway, but she couldn’t summon any words to ridicule him this time. He knew what she was thinking. He had been struck by the similarity, too. He definitely looked younger and didn’t bear the same battle scars, but he was undoubtedly Shikaku’s son. He had nearly shaved the goatee because of it, feeling the weight of his father’s legacy, but he also was that legacy. He was carrying Shikaku’s lessons and responsibilities forward while making them his own.

He saw these thoughts pass through Ino’s mind. She knew what it meant to carry a father’s legacy. She met his eyes and smiled. “Much better.”

“Whatever.”

#shikamaruweek2019 #gizka #my words #nara shikamaru #temari #shikatema #yamanaka ino #akimichi chouji #team ten #team asuma #inoshikacho #look at that I'm late and it's only the second day #go figure =P

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fanguine · 6 years

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the reason i'm so invested in pointing out the unfairness in feminism is because every day i see more and more evidence that especially western cultures (coming with western feminism) are using men as scapegoats for anything.

if there's a report about a paedophile you'll instantly think of a gross old man molesting little children, but rarely does anyone pay attention to the cases of adult women raping and abusing boys, playing it off as that they should enjoy it/be happy they got laid instead of recognizing that it's still a paedophile who traumatized (probably repeatedly and many) by sexually abusing them.

when you hear about domestic violence, you’re most likely to think of a man beating his girlfriend, wife, or life partner. so: usually a man physically assaulting a woman. yet many people don’t know that more than 40% of domestic violence victims are men (and those are just the numbers that came forth with the abuse they experienced). not only that, but if they call the police, it’s as certain as death that they’re going to be arrested even though they’re not the perpetuator. recently, shelters for battered men are opening, after an insane amount of time of few to none existing. so what happens? women complain that since male shelters are opening, the money isn’t going to female shelters, of which there are plenty and receive quite a lot attention already. then claim that men could just seek shelter in women’s shelters, which is nearly impossible considering that most male domestic violence victims are going to get laughed at and brushed off, or sent away as they’re seen as a threat, rather than a victim in need of the support that women are granted.

“Maybe I am wrong about this, and maybe this is a super feminist men's shelter. I hope that I am. Even though all survivors of domestic violence deserve safe spaces to heal and services that will help them with whatever needs they have, in a reality where resources are scarce, we need to be careful with what we prioritize. It is also crucial that the gendered aspects of domestic violence are at the forefront so we can attack the toxic elements of masculinity at its roots as we work towards a world without interpersonal violence.”

this is the last paragraph of the link above. to sum it up: women are more important than men, they should be prioritized at all costs, they’re humans of higher value and men are not. instead of just sharing and trying to help everyone, we’re supposed to let male shelters run out of support so that they soon won’t exist anymore, and men are back to having absolutely no support, right? that’s a great priority there, really...

masculinity is also not toxic. it’s been made to be seen as toxic, but the only unhealthy thing i can see here is the extreme narcissism and self serving attitude that comes with femininity (for women, of course, because men who are feminine get called pussies anyway). besides, lesbian couples have the highest domestic abuse rates of all, yes, higher than heterosexual couples, whereas gay couples have the lowest rates, so i doubt that toxic masculinity is really that real. but i won’t be getting further into that.

now, back to the abuse.. we see it in media and in real life: when a woman defends herself from a man who is attacking her, she will be applauded even if she kills him (sometimes especially, but i understand that most people get that sense of “got what they deserved” when such a thing happens).

when a man acts in self defense, he’s called a monster. this is one of the more scary and, to me personally, stomach churning topics. not only does this render the victim helpless and unable to fight back at all, forcing them to bear the abuse. when they do fight back it’s usually because they’re pushed to their limits. just like women, right? except for a few little details, because the woman can accuse the man of having hit her first and the majority of people will believe her and condemn him. she could also call the police, hell, the victim could call the police, and it would be the victim that gets arrested.. not to mention that everyone knows the connotations of hitting girls. the man could get blackmailed, the woman could hurt herself and claim it was him who did it, alienate him from friends and family who want nothing more to do with him, etc etc... not to mention that this “men aren’t allowed to hit women” thing isn’t something that goes both ways. never have i ever heard someone say that women aren’t allowed to hit men, to hurl things at them, and ruin their self worth with verbal abuse.

you see this double standard often. it manifests in many shapes and forms. one of them is that when a man checks his partner’s phone, it’s a red flag (that it is, indeed), but when a woman does it, it’s okay because “she’s just making sure he’s not cheating!” not only am i a firm believer in that if you can’t trust someone, you shouldn’t be with them, but also that this is invasion of privacy regardless of who does it and what gender they are. it’s weird, it’s scary, and a bad sign generally if someone is obsessed with knowing anything and everything you do. it’s not okay for men, so it’s not okay for women either.

another thing would be sexualization and objectification. we’ve seen it everywhere: feminists fighting for women to be seen as more than just sex objects, as people of their own right. this sounds great, doesn’t it? i fully support it! what i don’t support however, is the sheer hypocrisy in it. for every article or story you find about how gross this objectification is, you’ll see one about men’s bulges, stars revealing the size of a man’s penis, and there’s various other examples like women grabbing men’s asses or crotches without a warning, demanding they take off their shirt/show their abs, and so on..

another sexist thing that many will not notice until they go through divorce is how the mother always gets favored when it comes to child custody, regardless of whether or not she is fit to raise a child (or more). around 82.2% of custodial parents are mothers, whereas only 17.8% are fathers. towards the middle/end of the documentary “the red pill” you can see more on this. though i recommend the movie as a whole, which is about a feminist getting involved with the men’s rights movement to find out what they are fighting for, first skeptical, but then realizing that it’s not just a bunch of fedorabros protesting for their right to make kitchen jokes - these are men, people, with legitimate issues that are being shut down entirely by a feminist movement that claims to fight for equality, but really only aims to empower women. in the end, she no longer considers herself a feminist (neither did i, after that movie), and i believe also joined the men’s right’s movement.

now there’s so much more than i have mentioned, this is just a scratch on the surface of a mountain of issues. i don’t believe in screaming the loudest in order to be the most right. but these are real issues men face, and it’s heartbreaking that they get ignored because “women need it more” or “women are more important” or even “men don’t deserve support”. i hope that someone listens.

#feminism #men's rights #men's issues #men are wonderful #it really says a lot that the popular suggestions to 'men are' were #'men are trash' and 'men are slaves'#so im going to add more #men are beautiful #men are important #men matter #men are human #men have feelings

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sly-punk1712 · 7 years

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AN: This is kind of a side fic to this but it’s not necessary to have read before hand. This does deal with emotions and some self hate. There are brief descriptions of violence. This took me time to write because I would fall into the feelings trap. It felt pretty heavy for me so I felt it only polite to give heads up. Feelings are hard but we all have them.

Tony really doesn’t smoke anymore but it’s fucking freezing on the roof and drunk him had hidden a stash of cubans here once after a party for Rhodey’s billionth promotion. Drunk him was smart to squirrel things away for later. He supposed he could climb town and grab a jacket but he was still hiding from everyone, but particularly Darcy. As soon as she’d intruded to his living room penthouse she’d known he wasn’t feeling great.

“Hey Tones!!!” Her voice sing-songed his name from out of the elevator before the doors even opened. “Can we build Clint some acrobat....” She floated across the room and stopped at the sight of him in a day’s old tee shirt nursing a mostly empty glass.

Her knowing blue eyes took him in head to toe before her pouty lips curved into a frown. Tony gives her his award winning smile and sit’s up a little straighter, going for sleepy scientist over morose hero. She decidedly does not buy it judging by the way she slips down on the sofa and reaches for his glass.

“Weren’t you wearing that Wednesday?” She asks softly. He pulls the glass out of her reach sharply jumping to his feet and swaying slightly.

“And?”

“Tony it’s Tuesday.” She sits back and he’s glad she doesn’t move closer. He’s not sure he could handle that right now. “Have you been up here drinking this entire time? I thought you had a company thing on Friday?”

“Canceled it.” He made his way to the bar pouring a drink and putting it safely between him and her. “Benefits of being boss. I do what I want when I want” Her frown became more pronounced and worst of all she looked understanding. What did this girl know about him? She’d been in his life 8 months now? How dare she read him like an open book. He just wished she’d go away. Her mouth opened he saw the words forming.

“Are you Oka...?”

“Don’t you have anywhere to be?” He snaps. It’s mean, unfair and fueled partly by this bad mood and the strong liquor. “Like anywhere I don’t have to hear you?” He turns his back to her refusing to look at her. He hears her moving behind him and think it doesn’t sound angry enough. Pepper would storm out. It’s too Rhodey calm to be good.

The elevator dings open and shut and he bolts from the room in case she changes her mind.

So he’s up on the roof where he used to go to smoke and hock loogies off of when he and Rhodes where lost 20-somethings trying to find their way in life. He knows Darcy’s afraid of heights so even if she forgave him being an ass she wouldn’t come up and see him. He let a few tears free when he first sat down content to blame it on the wind, and he’s sure no one could hear him but he’s afraid to make a sound, everything he’s been drinking away the last few days feels too close to the top. Too big for him to break the silence.

“Anthony?” Of course she’d send Thor. He’s her go to hero after all, the thought is bitter and makes him feel worse for having thought it. Thor is a good friend.

“Is it always this windy?” Thor asks plopping down closer to the edge than Tony his legs dangling over the side of the tower. Tony snorts and blows a fortifying stream of smoke out of his mouth.

“Small talk? That’s what we’re going with.” He knows he sounds like a dick but he can’t seem to stop the words that make him seem harder, stronger. Thor chuckles lightly massive shoulders shaking slightly as the wind sweeps away the actual sounds.

“Fair. Would you prefer the silence?” Yes! but no now Thor has broken it. His ears remember the silence and they scream at him to not go back. Everything seems to scream at him these days and he’s like a helpless passenger in his own body.

“No. Go ahead and tell me whatever great Asgardian parable you have to try and cheer me up.” He shrugs and flicks ash from the end of the cigarette and can’t seem to tear his eyes away from bright orange against the dark night.

“Would that I could Anthony. Sadly divining is not one of my many gifts. Why tell tales of Ymir or the All father when they will mean nothing to you? I see you are distressed and I have no wish to mince words.” Thor turns to face him pulling one leg back onto the tower and near to him. He looks so young and sweet yet simultaneously massive that Tony smiles despite himself.

“I just can’t seem to shake this one. I mean normally I just need a few days to myself and good as new. I just feel..” Tony stopped and took another calming drag. This was so hard for him. To feel things, to share things. “I just need a few more days to bitch by myself.” He shook his head. Thor tiled his head hair spilling to one side making him look more like a massive puppy.

“Always alone?” Thor’s words are soft and impossibly kind and they make Tony’s eyes burn. He shuts them hating himself, hating being so weak he needs this, hating Darcy for making Thor come here.

“How can I complain when the others...” His eyes close make it easier to confess this thought, half a thought really, but Thor knows.

“I have selected the parable” Thor announced climbing to his feet to lean against the railing. Tony sighed in relief, the intensity of that wave of feeling was over him. This talk was almost over, if he was lucky and he could go back to himself.

“There was a young warrior who had only served a few years with his assigned company. The others having had decades in the service of the all father,” His voice was excellent for storytelling and Tony felt himself relaxing a little. Even if this turned into a weird ass Frost Giant cooking match, like Thor’s tales normally did, the cadence of his voice made it worth hearing one more how the Asgardian cooks made feasts to die for.

“Many political reasons called them to a small village on a province near to the castle. The town fell under siege due to the presence of the company and many lives were lost for foolish reasons. Men, women and children all cut down in the name of men who lived far away in lofty towers.” This was nothing like Thor’s normal tales, on the one hand Tony felt his heart hang on every word the other man spoke. On the other hand every syllable seemed to add pressure on his fragile heart. A thin line indeed.

“Many were wounded in the battle. The young warrior himself suffered two wounds. One of the upper arm dealt by a glancing blow from a friendly claymore.” Thor gestured to his own arm drawing a long line down his muscles.

“The second a much worse ailment. His mind retained the panic. The sounds of steel clanging against steel. The chilling cries of children cradling their dead parents. The surprised sounds of seasoned soldiers falling on blades.”

“The fight would not leave him and he refused to be treated for either injury. Unable to bear the touch of another the fear was so strong. That day past and the next he was silent. The company worried and nagged him to seek some attention but their pleas fell to deaf ears. Many weeks passed and they returned to the castle to await their next station. While there the warrior calmed enough to have his arm bound. The battle faded not haunting him but not passing from his thoughts.” Thor paused seeming unsure how to continue.

“What did you do?” Tony prompted finally. Thor gave a wry smile, clearly his tale had not fooled the genius.

“I did what all young men do, when in pain. Cried myself to sleep in my mother’s arms.” Thor seemed so fucking strong even just saying those words made that image seem impossible. “and she very wisely told me, as I will tell you now. Your suffering is not lesser because you are young.”

Tony snorted at the young part and let the cigarette fall from his fingers to the ground. He crushed the end under his heel and looked up to Thor who had turned to look at him.

“Pain is like armour in some ways. If I wear it, the pain may seem small and easily managed but the same set of armour would weigh you down, hindering your movements until you were too tired to continue. And in the same way you would not go into battle with ill fitting suit, you should not dwell in an ill fitting mood.” Thor seemed to struggle toward the end of his analogy. Tony let out a shaky breath with a curt nod.

“It’s just hard to handle that pain next to people who were abused, kidnapped, brainwashed, fought in World War 2. I just.. Fuck man I sound like such an asshole” Tony pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes to prevent the honest to god breakdown that was threatening to let loose.

“You are just as important Anthony. No suffering is unimportant if it’s hurting you.” Thor’s hand rested on Tony’s shoulder and when the midgardian opened his eyes Thor had knelt in front of him. Tony couldn’t name if it was the honest conversation, the days of alcohol in his system or Thor’s kind smile that did it but the damn burst and he lunged forward into Thor’s arms sobs racking his body softly. The asgardian merely shifted their weight and pulled Tony to him properly letting the billionaire cling to his shirt and soak his shoulder in hot tears. Everything was going to be okay and Thor relaxed knowing the other man would feel better in the morning.

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

Wednesday night found Darcy sprawled across the sofa feet resting on the arm and head resting on Bucky’s thigh as they watched Master Chef. She was trying to pay attention but her mind kept straying back to Tony all alone in his tower. Thor had come down last night to reassure her the Man on Iron was doing much better and had retired to sleep it off but it was in her nature to worry until she saw him herself. The elevator doors dinged and as if summoned by magic the man himself appeared.

Darcy tensed slightly and Bucky tensed even more under her. He’d been subject to her worrying while Thor handled Tony, and was likely worried the other man was going to say more upsetting things. Instead Tony beamed at her and swept grandly to wear she was lying and swooped down to press a kiss to her forehead.

“I’m sorry I’m an asshole” He said sheepishly standing back upright. “But I’m an asshole who is going to install trapeze equipment in the gym and buy my best girl dinner this week just us.” He winks headed toward the kitchen.

“Trapeze swings!!!”

“MY best girl thank you very much!”

Clint drops from the ceiling shouting the same time Bucky does and the tension Darcy’s been feeling lifts. Tony will be okay and everything's back to normal. The super soldier and world famous inventor begin to bicker. Well as normal as can be.

#tony stark #darcy lewis #Bucky Barnes #clint barton #TONY FEELS #feelings are hard #emotions #emotions suck #good guy thor #Thor #thor to the rescue #guilt #poor coping mechanisms #you are important #companion piece #side fic #fanfiction

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elementarypolitics · 7 years

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So, before Justice League comes out we should take a look at what made Wonder Woman so good, but regrettably not the best DCEU film to come out yet. Not to say this isn’t a great film, the DCEU is way above most films that Hollywood churns, out, and Wonder Woman is no different. And while previous films have dealt with philosophers, this, interestingly enough dealt with theology.

But before we get to that we need to deal with Wonder Woman’s naiveté.

So that’s the kind of idiocy we get from critics. Ignoring for the moment the inherent sexism in that statement, the fact that critics are incapable of insulting great movies like Dawn of Justice, or that they completely misunderstand the character.

Let’s review the goodness of Clark for a second. Even as a child he understood the dangers of being discovered but worked to make sure that he saved people—it’s established that the bus was not the first time he saved people. He left a line of good deeds so obvious that you could trace him from the dead wastelands of Nova Scotia back to the front door of the Kent Farm in Smallville, Kansas. I want you to think about that, he left such an obvious trail of stories of him helping people that you could track him over 2,000 miles easily. No real paper trail, just urban legends and they’re still enough of them to sort out the legends of the reality and transverse 2000 miles of territory within only a couple of weeks. How long would it take the best reporter in the world to track you back to your childhood home just by stories? It would probably be impossible—they’d need travel records, birth certificates, credit card statements. Clark is leaving a trail of breadcrumbs so damn obvious (even though he’s probably lying about his background at every stop) that it takes Lois all of two weeks. And let’s not forget not only the montage of heroic events in Dawn of Justice but that he has become so synonymous with good deeds that Bruce feels comfortable with joking about him rescuing cats from trees. When he kills the last of his kind because he has to save the lives of innocents, he has an emotional breakdown, screams and seeks comfort. When he saves a girl from a burning building, he is only overcome with the guilt of all the people he can’t save, seeing in a sea of people congratulating him only the faces of the dead he failed to save—a scene mirrored again in feeling of helplessness while the Capital building burns around him. He is stuck with these moments of self-flagellation where he tells himself “I could have done more” even though he has his limits and ignoring all the good he has done to save the world.

Compare that to Diana who has a lot more sheltered life, and while doing some real good in No Man’s Land and liberating a village, hasn’t spent the majority of her life-saving people and seeing that even good actions have consequences. When placed in the similar space of having to kill the last of her kind she states “Goodbye, Brother,” showing she acknowledges they are both the children of Zeus, and she walks away without really even feeling a moment of loss. The only loss is that of losing Steve, not the last of her kind.

She doesn’t blame herself for the death in the village after Luddendorf strikes it with a chemical attack, rightfully so, but Clark or Bruce would have unjustly blamed themselves for making that village a target.

Granted, they have very different backgrounds and both their responses are perfectly ethical from a virtue-based understanding of right and wrong. However, the critics who want to complain about Clark killing Zod by some ignorant Kantian idea that the means justify the ends, then they are should be blamed for the murder, yet I see no such consistency from the critics of Man of Steel.

What Diana has that Clark doesn’t have is not goodness, it’s naiveté. That isn’t goodness we’re seeing, because that goodness of Clark is still there from his first appearance of Man of Steel where he saves all the men on the oil rig to giving his life to stop Doomsday, and it’s the same goodness we have seen from when Diana chose to leave Themyscira to when we see her working with Bruce to find the League in the trailers. They’re both good.

But it’s not that there is a goodness to Diana (someone who liberated one town through a rather impressive offensive) that is not in Clark (someone who has been saving people for at least two decades). It’s that she has naiveté. She has a childish cluelessness about the nature of humanity.

And it shows.

She thinks of everyone as being pawns for Ares, not creatures of their own volition. And you see in this how she talks to the spy sent to kill Steve Trevor. “You’re clearly under his [Ares] control…let me help you get free. Where will I find Ares?” and how she expects the whole war to stop when she kills Luddendorf. She has this view of people being all good and influenced by an outside force and becoming all evil. It’s a view that is, at best, infantile (when we come back to it under our discussion of Calvinism, I will not be so kind). And it’s that she could only get a real look at evil by seeing the world not stop when she killed Ares. The whole movie is proving to both Hippolyta and Ares are correct: “They don’t deserve you.” Generals willing to callously let soldiers die, petty bar fights, the suffering of women and children fleeing no man’s land, not to mention at least a knowledge of human history up to 400’s B.C. (Mentions being able to talk about quoting Socrates in the Greek which means she must know of history up to that point), and knows what slavery is. Either she ignores all this or believes Ares is to blame for all of it. That’s unspeakably naive. Far too naive for someone who is likely thousands of years old by the time Steve Trevor shows up (it’s a little unclear exactly how old she is, but it just doesn’t strike me that Zeus was alive in 1880 to get Hippolyta pregnant in time for Diana to make WWI). But you know what Diana doesn’t have in this movie that Clark has from almost moment one, experience.

Clark has lived his whole life with stories about saving farms leading to other farms being destroyed and knowing that if he acts out against bullies then people could get hurt far worse than they deserve, and being told that no matter which path he chooses he’s going to change the world. Even before he’s Superman he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. And it’s a world-weariness we certainly see a hundred years later in Diana when she is in Dawn of Justice. But on her second day on the job she doesn’t have it. It’s somewhat understandable given how sheltered a life she has led, but it is not to be praised.

What is to be praised is her devotion at the end of the movie. That admits that people don’t always deserve mercy, and that justice might be to kill lots of them because people do terrible, terrible things for really pathetic reasons (as this last election was an all too clear example if you forgot). But at the end of the film she realizes what Clark knew from the first moment of Man of Steel, “They’re everything you say, but so much more.” That humanity has its dark side but it also has its good. And it is this point about looking for the good, “It’s not about deserving, it’s about what you believe [in]. And I believe in love.”

Admittedly the Greek agape, or the Latin caritas would have been little more appropriate here as the kind of love she is referring to is not the love of her romantic affair with Steve (which, I’m sorry I don’t buy for a second, also given how naive she is, Steve is really taking advantage of her). What she’s talking about is the love of Paul’s “faith, hope and love.” (Oh, look Diana believes in love, at the end of Dawn of Justice Bruce has faith in humanity again, and Superman is hope. Don’t doubt for a second that isn’t intentional).

That’s the whole point of the film. Her growing up. Because despite being somewhere between a couple hundred and five-thousand years old (it’s a little unclear on the timeline exactly), she has always been treated as the only child of Themyscira. She has no real-world interactions with anyone, has never really faced a moral quandary and clearly has a very immature vision of all human nature until the end of this film. The point of the movie is getting her to the point that Clark was at in Man of Steel, seeing both the evil that is all too present in humanity and still fighting for them. The Diana at the beginning of Wonder Woman would never have turned herself over as Clark did in Man of Steel because she didn’t have any belief in the goodness of humanity like he did, because she didn’t see them as rational actors at first. They were just automatons who could be pushed off course by Ares. It is only through Steve pointing out that as flawed as man is, they are still worth saving and Ares pointing out as flawed as they are, it is their own choice to be that way that she finally sees humanity for what it really is. A deeply flawed race with the potential for virtue. Only at the end could she agree with Bruce that “Men are still good.” (Obviously, something happened between Wonder Woman and Dawn of Justice that gave us such lines as “Man made a world where standing together is impossible” but Bruce’s optimism obviously brings her out of that.)

So, to praise her for the very thing that she needs to lose to become a real hero makes not a damn bit of sense. I love Wonder Woman because she becomes the hero she needs to be by the end of this film, but I refuse to put her greatest flaw in this film up as if it’s something that we should praise.

Calvinism

So, this brings us back to the central philosophic overtones of the film.

They center around Diana’s growing up and realizing that humanity is more than just its sins versus Ares’s assertion that people are just terrible. Now while Ares has those uber-environmentalist overtones of wanting to see the world a large forest that we’ve seen recently in such films as The Last Witchhunter, and while it is fun see Al Gore cast as the villain he is, there are deeper overtones to the rants of Ares.

At its heart these rants are Calvinism. It seems a little odd to say that Ares, a Greek god, is parroting a major Christian philosophy…but it’s not too far-fetched. First, you must consider that Man of Steel was an attack on the philosophy of Plato, Dawn of Justice an attack on Nietzche, Suicide Squad on Foucault, so it is only fitting that this latest film takes down another philosopher. Given that Snyder has Aristotelian overtones in all his work (further reinforced by the fact that he says he wants to remake Rand’s The Fountainhead), and his definitively Christian themes (which if they don’t have a pro-Catholic feel, they are certainly counter to the themes of Evangelical Protestantism) make the ideas of Calvinism, and it’s really disgusting modern versions an ideal target.

So, before we deal with Ares, let’s deal with Calvinism. In his book, Institutes on the Christian Religion, John Calvin makes several points. First, that reason is fallible and thus will always lead away from God and thus man must replace reason with absolute faith in the Bible even it contradicts reason (this in contradiction to the more Aristotelian St. Thomas Aquinas assertion that reason and faith and reason lead to the same conclusion and can be used to reinforce one another, not work in opposition to another).

Hence that immense flood of error with which the whole world is overflowed. Every individual mind being a kind of labyrinth, it is not wonderful, not only that each nation has adopted a variety of fictions, but that almost every man has had his own god. To the darkness of ignorance have been added presumption and wantonness, and hence there is scarcely an individual to be found without some idol or phantom as a substitute for Deity.

Calvin also believes that man was inherently corrupt from Original Sin and nothing in him was redeemable.

For what accords better and more aptly with faith than to acknowledge ourselves divested of all virtue that we may be clothed by God, devoid of all goodness that we may be filled by him, the slaves of sin that he may give us freedom, blind that he may enlighten, lame that he may cure, and feeble that he may sustain us; to strip ourselves of all ground of glorying that he alone may shine forth glorious, and we be glorified in him?

While there are many such passages in Calvin that make this clear, none probably shine as the sermon of American Calvinist “Sinners in the Handsof an Angry God.”

They deserve to be cast into hell; so that divine justice never stands in the way, it makes no objection against God’s using his power at any moment to destroy them. Yea, on the contrary, justice calls aloud for an infinite punishment of their sins.

Yep, in Calvinism you see nothing of the good in humanity. And when it comes to free will, well Calvin feels that you can only choose evil if you use your will.

The virtues which deceive us by an empty show may have their praise in civil society and the common intercourse of life, but before the judgment- seat of God they will be of no value to establish a claim of righteousness. When the will is enchained as the slave of sin, it cannot make a movement towards goodness, far less steadily pursue it.

For Calvin your only good option is to submit completely to the will of God because there is nothing good in your own will (if it’s beginning to sound like the intellectual foundations of Calvinism and the foundations of Islam—especially Asharaite Sunni Islam—are pretty much the same, well I wouldn’t tell you, you were wrong). The fact is that you can dress it up in glorifying God or being reborn or “Make America Great Again” but the fact of the matter is that Calvinism worships a very psychotic vision of God.

So how does Ares stack up.

“Look at her and tell me I’m wrong. She is the perfect example of these humans and unworthy of your sympathy in every way. Destroy her, Diana. You know that she deserves it they all do. Take them all. Finally you see. Look at this world. Mankind did this, not me. They are ugly, filled with hatred. Weak.”

Well, your first inclination might be to think of Ares as a stand-in for Satan. “You were right, Diana. They don’t deserve our help. They only deserve destruction.” But there are some problems with this. Yes, like Satan in many of the more popular telling of the tale rebelled because he hated mankind and how they were put ahead of the angels. This parallels quite well with Ares hatred of mankind and how flawed they are. Further, his desire to try and tempt Diana with his falsehood about humanity is very Faustian in its nature. But it also fits well with a Calvinist view of God, whose hatred for humanity is almost indistinguishable from popular conceptions of Satan. But just because of that hardly makes the case that Ares’ beliefs are a stand-in for Calvinism. So, do we see other examples of Calvinism?

Do we see an abject hatred of reason preferring to blindly follow a mythical story even when it contradicts with known facts? Not really. His version of the history while distorted is backed up with images of him being attacked by Zeus or him whispering into the ears of Maru. “All I ever wanted was for the gods to see how evil my father’s creation was. But they refused. So, I destroyed them.” Unlike Hippolyta’s storybook visualization to Diana, Ares actions are shown to have actually occurred. So, he has no devotion to a work of faith, he may misinterpret the facts and ignore the good in humanity, but the evil he refers to is there and he’s not making anything up about it.

Then of course in Calvinism you have the belief that reason and free will are not really a thing. That you will always choose the wrong path. Here Ares is the consummate Calvinist. ““I am. I am not the God of War, Diana. I am the God of Truth. Mankind stole this world from us. They ruined it day by day. And I, the only one wise enough to see it, was left too weak to stop them. All these years I have struggled alone, whispering into their ears. Ideas, inspiration for formulas, weapons, but I don’t make them use them. They start these wars on their own. All I do is orchestrate an armistice I know they cannot keep in the hope that they will destroy themselves. But it has never been enough, until now.”

Ares believes left to their own devices humans will always destroy each other. He just believes he’s helping them on the way to the end that they are already seeking.

If you’ve been paying attention, while Ares doesn’t fully show the Calvinist worldview, with the exception of the negative view of humanity, Diana fits it to a T. For much of the film she doesn’t believe in free will, she follows a myth blindly even with evidence around her that not everything is as that myth would suggest, and in those moments between killing Luddendorf and sparing Maru she quite clearly believes that humans don’t deserve mercy. She buys the Ares/Calvinist line and is ready to kill everyone. Bruce spent a whole movie not believing in Superman’s goodness, Diana spent five minutes thinking all of humanity “deserve to be cast into hell.” It’s hard to say which is darker. But for a few moments we have Diana the devout Calvinist believer who thinks that there is no good in free will, that they all deserve punishment, and that the fires of hell are all they should be given (it’s thus probably no shock that while going through and attacking so many German soldiers she is surrounded by fire on every side…and Ares in this moment is not the stand-in for Satan but the stand-in for the Calvinist vision of God. Which sounds a little farfetched…but there is this line of dialogue.

“You’re him.” “I am.”

Not “Yes.” Not “I am Ares.” Not “You are correct.” “I am.” If this line was on its own, it wouldn’t be much, but with the impression that the Calvinist vision of God is being implied, this line takes on a really dark interpretation.

Yes, I realize how sacrilegious this argument sounds to anyone who follows Calvinist beliefs…but I don’t think given their background that either Jenkins or Snyder do. In fact, given the over the top Catholic imagery in his works, the fact he was married in an Episcopal church and raised as a Christian Scientist, while his exact beliefs might be very hard to nail down, but I think it’s safe to say that he is opposed to the Calvinist worldview. Jenkins is even harder to nail down, but at the themes come more from the script that Snyder has made sure is consistent in his universe, I think that while an individual film the credit should go more to the director, in a franchise like this where one man has produced and helped write all of it, and directed most of it, I think Snyder’s beliefs do get too weighted here as being relevant to the thematic material. And by putting this false image of God on a mythological god it’s a quite clever attack on the vision of God without attacking the true nature of God.

It is only when Diana gives up these Calvinists ideas about human nature “They’re everything you say, and so much more” gives up the story that had been fed to her and admits the truth, namely that she is the daughter of Zeus when she tells Ares “Goodbye, brother.” She further takes up Trevor’s stance with “It’s not about deserve” Giving up the Calvinist belief that mankind deserves hell. Her line while already recounted, might better be stated as “[My actions are] not about [what people] deserve. [My actions] are [determined by what I] believe. And I believe in love [the love of human well- being for its own sake].”

This switches from the Calvinist position we see throughout the entire film with a more Aquinas/Aristotelian view that has been seen in all the DCEU films up to this point.

Now we will fully admit that unlike Man of Steel and Dawn of Justice which were throwing Plato and Nietzsche quotes and symbols all over the place, seeing Calvinism in this film is a bit more of a stretch (or I am not catching Calvin quotes, beyond the deserve thing mirroring Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God) but in the context of the whole DCEU, this does still seem to be a more subtle attack on Calvinism.

Feminism

Wonder Woman was obviously going to deal with feminism. And while we were a little surprised that feminism wasn’t a central theme of the story it was there. Namely in its three female leads being the representation of the three waves of feminism.

In Etta, we see the first wave of feminism in the desire to win the right to vote, but still not being an equal of the men around her. Obviously in Diana we see the second wave of feminism, a woman who is equal to every male superhero, superior to most in fact, and not treated as merely eye candy (as are the female heroes in some other franchises, which shall remain nameless). And in Dr. Maru we see the destructive insanity of the third wave of feminism.

Honestly, the details do not go much deeper than that, but they are there.

Other Social Issues

Further, this movie deals with some heavy social issues and balances them perfectly against the rest of the film. Specifically, it does this in a team that Trevor sets up to help him get behind the enemy lines. The DCEU continues to show a very realistic and heartfelt view of PTSD in the person of Charlie who due to horrors and stress he has already endured can’t bring himself to fire a gun at a person again. More than any of the characters in this ragtag band, it appears Charlie’s problems are a direct reference to a previous DCEU film, namely Dawn of Justice—the fact that Charlie’s problems get the most screen time of the secondary characters is probably a slap to face of all the people who didn’t get that Bruce has PTSD (although how every critic and Marvel fanboy missed it is beyond me, but then again they seem all too comfortable with characters who don’t act in ways that would actually be considered normal or even human).

In addition to this, we have the issues of imperialism not just in the fact that it’s the Central Powers of WWI which goes without saying, but also by being blunt in the fact that even the good guys in this the most pointless war in history were still pretty scummy people. And this is only reinforced with Sameer who states quite clearly that despite his obvious talents he can’t pursue his chosen career for something as stupid as race.

Granted this is 1918 and it would be absolutely preposterous to expect society to be any better than this with only a few exceptions (Trevor, Etta), but it’s also nice that it strikes the perfect balance of dealing with the issues and not becoming preachy or heavy-handed. It’s a very difficult tightrope to walk and Snyder and Jenkins walked it perfectly. Every writer and director in the future looking to include social commentary should look to this film rather than the ham-fisted attempts by most of Hollywood.

Problems with the film.

So, this film has a few problems. The main one being that there seems to be a major gap between the woman who stands in Trafalgar Square and smiles at Steve’s picture with some hope and the woman who tells Bruce “man made a world where standing together is impossible.” She got a lot more cynical in the intervening years. And this leads to some very important questions, like, “What the hell was she doing during WWII?”

I don’t care how cynical the trenches of WWI make you, a woman like Diana would not just sit the Holocaust out and let that kind of carnage continue. (Especially given that Gal Gadot is Israeli…I have to assume she asked and was told something that explains this. Otherwise, I can’t see how she plays this character. Granted there is some DC canon item that prevented the heroes of the DC universe from getting involved in WWII but I just want a line of exposition to explain this).

And then there is the love story. I’m sorry but this is not a serious relationship in any sense of the word. They have known each other for less than a week. Like Romeo and Juliet, this is her first love and they both are under severe pressure, being surrounded by death, destruction and, at least for Steve, the threat of death. This was never a relationship that was going to last. And I don’t think it was the intention for us to think of this as a relationship that would be the testament to true love. If it really is love Diana would not be so quick to blame Trevor, falsely, of being responsible for the deaths caused by Luddendorf and Maru. But the fact is that it not being love means that her turn toward Steve’s lines about, “It’s… it’s not about deserve. Maybe, maybe we don’t. But it’s not about that, it’s about what you believe. You don’t think I get it, after what I’ve seen out there? You don’t think I wish I could tell you that it was one bad guy to blame? It’s not! We’re all to blame!” If she was in love with him her decision to change would not be on the merits of his statement, but simply because of her Juliet-style infatuation. This way her decision is not tainted by her naiveté.

Wonder Woman In-Depth Review: Sorry Bruce, Diana is the hero we need and deserve So, before Justice League comes out we should take a look at what made Wonder Woman so good, but regrettably not the best DCEU film to come out yet.

#Patty Jenkins #Wonder Woman #Zack Snyder

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spider-boi · 7 years

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Helpless

AN: hi wow it’s been a while lol so i found some free time and decided to try and write again YAY so this fic is gonna be inspired by hamilton bec i love it so much and i’ve been dying to write a hamilton inspired fic so here it is!!! (this is the song by the way lol for context)

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

// Masterlist //

I sat awkwardly by the bar and watched middle-aged men trip over their feet after having one too many drinks. My phone’s battery had long died a few hours ago and now I was left to find a new source of entertainment. I sighed and rest my chin on my hand.

My father, Tony Stark, was holding a special party for the opening of the new Avengers facility and everyone who’s anyone was invited. Meaning that the place was completely packed and I had no one to talk to. I had lost Nat and Wanda in the crowd and decided to just sit by the bar and wait for someone from the team to pass by.

Deciding that I had enough of sitting around and waiting, I stood up and walked around in hopes of finding someone. Muttering “excuse me”’s, I weaved through the crowd. Everything was going fine until I bumped into someone and fell to the floor. Except that I never reached the floor for someone had caught me.

Looking up, I saw a boy about my age. My breath hitched as I stared at him. This boy was extremely cute. With disheveled brown hair and kind eyes, I was speechless. I had my hand on his shoulder and he had his arm around my waist, holding me up. We locked eyes and we both seemed to realize the position we were in and blushed. He righted me and I fixed my dress. I looked at him again and was about to say something but I couldn’t seem to find my voice.

“Uh sorry.” The boy muttered and walked past me. I watched his form disappear from my view. I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and saw Nat and Wanda.

“Y/N, we’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Wanda exclaimed.

“Sorry.” I muttered, turning around and looking for the boy again. Scanning the room, I spotted him talking to my father. Confused, I scrunched my eyebrows. How does he know my father? I had never seen him before nor has dad ever mentioned him. How-

“Hello?” My thoughts were cut short when a hand waved in front of my face, catching my attention. I faced the two women behind me.

“Earth to Y/N! We asked you a question but it seems like you’re a little distracted.” Nat crossed her arms.

“Sorry, Nat. It’s just…” I trailed off and looked over my shoulder. I saw the boy laugh at something dad had said and, I swear, I felt my heart expand about a 100 times.

“Oh, I see what’s got your attention.” Nat stated.

“Y/N’s got a little crush on young Peter!” Wanda cooed.

“Peter? Is that his name?” I asked, sounding way too eager. Nat sent a smirk my way.

“Yup. He’s new to the team. Your dad found him about a month ago and he’s been training with us a few times a week.” Wanda explained. I nodded in understanding.

“Do you want to meet him?” Nat asked.

“I, uh, kinda bumped into him a while ago if that counts as meeting him.”

Nat rolled her eyes. “Wait right here. I’ll be back.” With that Nat, walked across the room and approached Peter. I saw her talking to him and point in my direction. Peter’s eyes followed Nat’s finger and met my eyes. I quickly averted my gaze and noticed that both Nat and Peter were making their way over to us.

“What is she doing?” I asked Wanda. She just sent me a knowing smile and began to fluff my hair.

“You’ll see.” She turned me around to face Nat and Peter. We locked eyes again and suddenly I felt like the sky was the limit. His eyes made me feel weak in the knees.

“Peter Parker, meet Y/N. Y/N, meet Peter a.k.a. Spider-Man.” Wanda introduced us. My eyebrows rose at this. I looked at Peter and saw his cheeks turn red.

“Wanda!” He scolded her.

“It’s okay, Peter. She’s one of us.” She comforted him. I saw him visibly relax. Mustering up all my courage, I stuck my hand out for him to shake. He took it and I felt a warm feeling rush all over my body.

“Y/N Stark. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Stark?” His voice catching in his throat as he spoke.

“Mhmm. Tony Stark’s precious daughter.” Nat explained. Peter’s mouth dropped. I smirked.

“Thank you for all your service. The city has definitely been safer with you around.” I said, genuinely.

“Oh, uhm, you’re welcome. I guess being bitten by a spider does have its perks. I mean, I get to meet pretty girls like you.” He said quickly. Both our jaws fell. Peter looked like he couldn’t believe he said that out loud. I heard Nat and Wanda try to conceal their laughter.

“I’ll leave you to it. Have fun you two.” Nat pat my back. Wanda gave me a thumbs up and they both left.

“So…” I started.

“Uh, s-sorry for blurting that out a while ago. I-I don’t know what came over me and-”

“Peter!” I stopped his rambling. “It’s okay and if it helps, I think you’re pretty cute too.” I blushed. I wasn’t really one to be forward with my feelings but Peter made me feel…helpless. We had only been speaking for about 3 minutes but I knew Peter was different from all the other boys that wanted me because of my name. We looked at each other for a while before laughing. After we had calmed down, I motioned for him to follow me as we walked to the balcony. “So, bitten by a spider, huh?”

Weeks later and me and Peter had become inseparable. He would come over to the facility after school everyday and we’d talk about anything and everything. I found out that he and I shared a common love for science. Which led to many hours being spent in my father’s lab.

“Alright, Peter, you have to go home or else your aunt’s gonna kill me. “ My dad said, strictly.

“But, dad! We’re almost done with the new prototype for the spider-tracers.” I complained.

“And you can finish it tomorrow, sweetheart. But Peter has to go home now.” He looked at me pointedly. I sighed and looked at Peter, pouting.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Pete. Call me when you get home.” I pushed myself up to my tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek. He immediately turned red and gave me a quick ‘bye’. My dad looked back and forth between us before resting his gaze on Peter. Oh no.

“C’mon, Peter. I’ll walk you out.”

Peter’s POV

I walked with Mr. Stark out of the facility. My hands were clammy and I felt like throwing up but I needed to ask him. And ask him now before I lose my guts.

“Mr. Stark?” He hummed, acknowledging me. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead, kid.”

“Uhm,” I rubbed my hands together. Okay, Peter. You got this. “I was wondering if I-I could take Y/N to t-the movies tomorrow?” I looked up at Mr. Stark and he just looked back at me, blankly.

“I-It’s just, Y/N’s been feeling really stressed about school recently and I wanted to do something nice for her to get her mind off of things-”

“Kid! You’re rambling.” Mr. Stark cut me off.

“Sorry.” I mumbled.

“Okay, before I answer your question. Let me ask you something.” He crossed his arms.

“Okay..”

“Do you have feelings for my daughter?”

My eyes went wide and I began to deny it. Mr. Stark just looked at me impatiently and I knew I had been caught. “…Yes.” I looked at my shoes and waited for Mr. Stark to blast me with his repulsor but instead I got a comforting hand on my shoulder.

“Can’t say I’m surprised, that girl can charm anyone to give her all the diamonds in the world with one smile.” He joked. I smiled. “It would be stupid of me to think that no boy would spark interest in my little girl but hey, you’re a good kid and I know you’ll keep her safe. But that doesn’t mean I won’t make it hard on you, Parker. So, the answer to your question is yes but I want her home by 10. You hear me?”

I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. “Yes! Yes, of course Mr. Stark! I’ll have her home on time I promise!”

“I know you will. Now, go home. Your aunt’s gonna be worried sick.”

Y/N’s POV

I sat on my bed and waited for Peter to call me. And no, I am not desperate. I just care for my friend’s safety. Yeah that’s it. Keep telling yourself that, Y/N. Over the past few weeks of knowing Peter, my crush on him had somehow gotten bigger. Today, I wasn’t able to control myself and gave him a kiss on the cheek which I beat myself up over after Peter left. A few moments later, my phone rang and I had to stop myself from answering on the first ring. By the third ring, I picked up.

“Hi Pete. You got home safe?”

“Hey, Y/N, yup. No criminals for me to fight tonight.” He said, the sound of his voice filling my ears.

“That’s good. I don’t like seeing you get beat up all the time.” Crap, I did it again.

“Well, I know that you’ll always be there to be patch me anyways.” He said, referencing to the few times that he came to my window, bruised and bloodied. I let out an airy laugh. “Y/N, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, you can ask me anything Peter.” My heart was beating hard against my chest. I heard him take a deep breath.

“W-would you like to go out with me tomorrow night?”

My heart stopped. Did Peter Parker just ask me out on a date?

“Y/N?” I could hear the panic in Peter’s voice.

“Sorry, uh-I uh Yes! Yes, I’ll go out with you!” I exclaimed.

“Really? Oh uhm I didn’t think you’d actually say yes but okay I’ll pick you up at 7? Is that okay?” He asked, eagerly.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Great, actually!”

“Great! I’ll see you tomorrow then! Good night, Y/N. Sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams, Peter.” I hung up the phone and laid back on my bed. A goofy smile spread on my lips and I had to bite my lip to stop myself from screaming out of joy. Peter Parker had just asked me out.

Oh my god. What do I wear? “Crap.” I whispered to myself. I pushed myself up from the bed and threw my door open. “Wanda! Nat! I have a fashion crisis!”

#tom #peter parker imagine #tom holland imagine #writing #my post #i love peter not realizing he's rambling and people cutting him off #precious lil baby #this is also really long #i got carried away im sorry

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hotcocosharing · 7 years

Text

Second Chance Part 15 (IM RP)

Shunichiro Tachibana

To say I’m shocked to find Midori lying next to me would be an understatement. Have I been so out of my mind to a point where I retain no memory of sleeping with her- is my initial first question but judging by how fully clothed we are, I sigh in relief before walking down the memory lane of the exact reason that brings me in this very spot. Sharing the same bed with my ex girlfriend who pushes me away then invites me to a launch party which I now realize we have both missed out.

Watching the innocent look on Midori’s quiet face as she drools (ever so little) on the covers and imagining her hilarious reaction about sleeping though the night with make up- how it ruins her perfect skin and how much money or spa she would need to undo the damage. The not so peaceful morning is quickly escalates by the sound of heavy rain outside that suddenly accompanies by the loud clack of thunder, causing the angelic face to wake in distress and confusion for a second follow by her real panicking realization to the fact that I am staring at her overnight makeup and morning look which consider to be all women (and maybe men) nightmare.

But what are we more afraid of? The storm outside or what’s up ahead?

After a rush breakfast buffet downstairs, I wait for Midori as she checks out and offers to drive her home under such crazy weather, “It’s the least I’d do to make it up to you.” It doesn’t take too much convincing for her to hop in the car, suspecting that she wants back at her sanctuary as soon as possible after such eventful yet boring night.

Midori remains quiet through out the ride and after the fail attempt to ease the funny tension with the radio which obviously has no reception under the state of rain so my lips part and ask something I never should. “What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head and replies with such calm that I am so frustratingly familiar with, “It’s nothing.”

And here we go, witnessing, experiencing history all over again, looping in the endless hell of nothingness while she is obviously upset about something!

[ It’s nothing. ]

Probably the most annoying sentence on earth, at least it manages to enlighten the fire in me every single damn time! The mystery of Midi’s departure till this day has never been satisfactorily explained, and I have good reason to resent this regrettably familiar statement.

A sudden loud pop follow by one of the tires flopping over and over again comes quickly after one another. I curse, figuring that it’s just my luck to be stuck in a car under the heavy rain with a heated conversation (storm) coming any minute now.

“Damn it!” Letting out another curse as I carefully pull over and hear Midori asks if I’ve got a flat tire. “Oh no, it’s nothing. We are just stuck!” A silence descends while more words pouring out in my chaotic mind- we are stuck again, stuck with each other, not going anywhere, neither going forward or backward is on the menu and I fucking hate being stuck. I’m a creative director, I don’t get stuck!

Midori stays quiet, there’s no sound except for the raindrops hitting the windows. “Enough!” I raise my voice with clenched fists on the wheel, “just go right ahead and say it! I have neither the time nor mood to play mind reading, we are way too old for this, don’t you think?”

She’s still quiet.

“What is it Midori? What did I do this time? I’m sorry I got sick and ruined your precious opportunity to attend the party! I’ve work to do too, a few hours of sleep was all I got, so yeah sorry I didn’t have the luxury to take better care of myself! Is that it, an apology? Is that what you want? Or because I was late? Or I forgot to reply a text? Or was it the fact that I chose the suite instead of your place? What the fuck was it, Midori? Or do you want to run out the door like last time without telling me a reason that I don’t ever deserve?!”

The weather forecast’s right, I am still under the curse of a gloomy weekend, just fucking great!

Midori Katayani

It’s December 24th at a little after 10pm and he’s still nowhere to be seen. I’m in his apartment - standing in the kitchen, looking out the window to waste time which overlooks the city scape below and frames the hustle and bustle of the busy city near picturesquely and it hits me that I’m lonely. The helpless, naïve – completely out of my control feeling consumes me faster than the rain that’s starting to fall and I’m starting to wonder if he’ll even make it home for Christmas at all.

“Baby it’s business, but I promise… I’ll make it home.” “I know but so close to Christmas? I mean – it’s our first together and, and… I know I’m just being selfish but I don’t want you to go.”

That night had been the first of a tangent string of squabbling and bickering and fighting and whatever other name or term it could have been called but it was at that moment that I realized for the first time, for the very first time how much one person could mean to me. I figured I was allowed to be selfish – I was in love, or at least that’s what I thought the feeling was. Head over heels, take your breath away and make you smile crazy in love which I never assumed in my wildest dreams I’d actually be experiencing.

Had you asked me then – perhaps even now; the feeling was just too good to be true. As the rain kept on calling, harder and harder, a monotone storm brewing up ahead, the crashing sounds of thunder and lightning coaxed me, convinced me that I should go to bed.

But he’ll be here soon —.

Folding my arms across my chest in his oversized sweater that I’d sat in all day and which still lingered in his scent, another roar of thunder rumbled over head. Biting my lip worriedly, I was about to call it a night when the sound of keys jingling at the door grabbed my attention. He was here – he’d kept his promise. He was home.

—-

The sound of thunder vibrating softly across the hotel suite windows was enough to wake me up. The last few years I’d turned into a light sleeper, something I didn’t really enjoy but none the less – my paranoia had risen after I had to get use to once again sleeping alone. Groaning as I rub my eyes and shift with a wiggle to get comfortable on the bed, it’s another clack of thunder that wakes me – completely and I push myself half up to sit in bed.

“Shu…Shun – Shunichiro?”

I can tell that I’m definitely not dreaming but a panic begins to run like electricity through my veins as the sight of my ex in a bed next to me – watching me…fuck. I know for a fact we didn’t do anything last night; I mean I wouldn’t be complaining if something had happened but I’m well aware that apart from a ridiculously failed attempt at a rekindled first kiss my luck ran dry rather quickly.

We’re both silent – it’s not quite an awkward silence yet not a comfortable one either. Things seem to stay this way between the not so delicate tip to around one another through to the breakfast buffet and then finally, the offer to be driven home. I snap the opportunity up quicker than one could ever say yes – my bags are thrown into the car quicker than imaginable and like I always use to; I slip quickly into the passenger seat.

A part of me wonders if Shun will need directions to find my place yet he hasn’t asked so I don’t bother with speaking up. The city looks different from the passengers seat; or at least in my eyes it does – I start noticing the little things I usually take for granted and miss out on when I’m driving myself or busy with my eyes glued to my phone in the back of the cab and in the midst of enjoying the serenity, Shun decides to stupidly, in my own opinion – ruin the silence by opening his mouth and asking my all time most hated question.

“What’s wrong?”

As a woman – I can tell you right now that even though I’ve got a million and one things which are racing around inside my head, my answer – just as anyone elses of this sex is always the same.

“It’s nothing”, I whisper, trying to regain focus on what’s happening outside and around the car. I know he hates the answer; even after all this years apart he’s clenching the steering wheel tight, the whites of his knuckles starting to show. I’m sure if I answered his question like that one more time just out of sheer utter frustration Shunichiro would explode. It’s more mumbling and grumbling and a bit of cursing as we pull over onto the side of a street and I ask the typical overly obvious female question as to whether there’s something wrong with the car and get a near typical male reaction back which doesn’t exactly help me in understanding what the hell is going on.

Silence – we’ve been reduced to sitting in silence with the radio cutting out and I can tell that Shun’s been stretched out thin to his last limits because he’s constantly putting a pressure on himself that he just doesn’t need. Something extra to just push himself over the edge. As the rain starts pouring harder and harder, I half contain a giggle at the fact the animosity between us has grown thick enough that it’d need to be carved through with a sword and whilst he’s never usually one to raise his voice – Mr near always cool, calm and collected bring to the surface everything it seems, that not just recently has been bothering him.

I try not to let his words have any affect one me yet it’s the last thing he says which causes a knee jerk reaction that coaxes me to snap.

[“Or do you want to run out the door like last time without telling me a reason that I don’t ever deserve?!”]

“You want a reason?”, oh shit Midi no… this is bad, bite your tongue, bite your tongue it won’t be worth it in the end. Of course – I wouldn’t be me if I had the ability to keep my mouth shut.

“Fine! I’ll give you a god damn reason – you never talk to me and you’re never there. Okay! It doesn’t matter if you fall sick because you know I’ll be there to take care of you. I don’t care about not going to the party last night because honestly, it was fucking nice just to spend a little time with you. I’ve never cared if you’ve been late or if you don’t text back because I know that’s just you and you’ll be there. I doesn’t matter to me that you picked the suite instead of my place because let’s be honest here if you were in my place and I in yours I’d have made the same decision to. I miss us talking. I miss how trusting we were and how honest we use to be. I miss staying up until early in the morning discussing things which could wait until another day but we didn’t want them to. It got to the point where we just stopped talking – I don’t know if we just got bored, if we were keeping secrets or if we were tired or perhaps we just didn’t need to but then whenever we did it always about work. That became like the biggest and only priority for you and then because of work, because of the job you were basically in a full time relationship with you stopped being there. You were hardly ever there. It just became a vicious cycle of work, talk about work, not there because of work, work, work, work, work, work and I get it – you like your job, but if you showed and expressed as much enthusiasm as you did about that with me we wouldn’t be having this fucking conversation.”

Sighing with a huff and unbuckling my seat belt to lean over and pull the button which popped open the car trunk where I knew the spare tyre would be, I gritted my teeth before getting out, instantly regretting having worn white on a day like today but at least the rain would conceal the tears I had swelling in the corners of my eyes.

“Give me fifteen fucking minutes and I’ll change the god damn tyre”, I snapped not bothered to continue with the argument that we were having, “..and then I want a response – none of this falling into silence because it’s an easy excuse.”

#irresistible mistakes shunichiro #irresitible mistakes #irresistible mistakes role play #Irresistible mistakes #irresistible mistakes rp #voltage rp #voltage role play

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