#wondercandy

based on this comic strip by jackie urbanovic :)

+ some of my vague outfit insp bc it deserves to be seen

“What is it?” Diana asks, sidestepping past her like a woman who has never once in her life been stymied by a revolving door.

The fur of her cape brushes past Etta’s face – fur and soft and tall and oh, the smell of that woman, that is what it must be to be a literal goddess, to never stink of travel and perspiration – and Etta revises her opinion: this is how she’s going to die. Here, in this doorway, Diana’s voice low and kind and throaty in her ears.

“Etta?” Diana asks, and Etta blinks her eyes open. Diana is standing in the small space between the door and the bed, her face beautifully creased in a slight frown of concern.

Etta stifles the urge to dootle-de-doo away her discomfort. “There’s only the one…” Her vague gesture doesn’t seem to enlighten Diana in the least. “There’s only one… bed.”

Diana turns to frown at the offending furnishing. “It is large enough for two.”

And isn’t that just the problem? Etta plasters on a bright, determined smile. “I’ll just take the floor then, shall I?”

Diana’s head tilts. “Do you enjoy the floor?”

Etta makes a cheery but noncommittal noise. Even if one could lie to Diana Prince – and Etta isn’t entirely sure she could – the woman conducts her life with such unflinching honesty that it seems unkind, unsporting even, to meet her with anything but the same.

And yet there are still secrets Etta would rather keep for herself. For example, how overwhelming Etta would find it to share a bed with Diana, how much Etta craves it, and how little she dares to hope for it.

“Because I don’t enjoy the floor,” Diana continues. “The floor is cold and hard and lonely. The bed will be none of those things.” And then, because Diana is apparently determined to kill Etta, she adds, “Especially with you to share it with me.”

Diana’s voice is as low and gravelly as if she had just woken after a long night of muff-eating. If Etta didn’t know the woman sounded like that all the damned time, Etta might even believe there was a proposition in there.

“Etta?” Diana asks again, her smile intimate and warm. Oh, yes, this is definitely how Etta will die.

“Erm,” Etta says, intelligently.

Diana’s face falls. “Oh. I see.” She turns away, removes her cape, her weapons. “Steve also was reluctant to sleep with me.”

Etta’s stomach twists in a surprised knot of laughter and grief, because she just bets he was, and also, Steve.

“There is a… taboo?” Diana asks, still doggedly trying to work out Etta’s reluctance to share the bed.

“Ah, no,” Etta hastens to clarify. “Well, not between two women sharing a bed. Not usually.” And dootle-de-doooooo, Etta flies right past that. “But with a man and a woman, yes, definitely, it isn’t done. Or shouldn’t be. Steve was trying to protect your honour. Probably.”

“My honour,” Diana says, amused. She sits on the bed and unbuckles her greaves. There are bald patches on her legs where her armour has worn away the hair. “And are you trying to protect my honour, Etta?”

Etta grimaces. It’d be fairer to say that it’s her own honour she’s protecting. Or, at the very least, her self-respect.

“My honour lies in my sword, and in my open hand,” Diana says, undoing the rest of her armour, buckles and clips and straps, stripping down to the light cotton shift she wears beneath. “It lies in when I choose to speak, and for whom. My honour does not lie with whom I share a bed.” She pauses, considering Etta. “Unless, perhaps, I attempt to share a bed with someone who does not wish to share with me.”

Oh, crikey, but does Diana have it wrong. “No, that’s not… Of course I…”

But Diana is already standing and spreading her cape next to the bed. “I’ll take the floor.”

The last thing Etta wants is to see Diana sleeping on the floor because of Etta’s cowardice. “No! I’ll take the floor! You can’t sleep on a floor, you…” She’s a princess and also a goddess, but Diana would accept neither of those reasons. Etta gestures helplessly at Diana, golden and strong and perfect. “Your bones are all. Um.”

Diana looks at her quizzically, waiting for the end of that thought.

Etta gives up and strikes a pose. She gestures lavishly down her frame, as if she’s modeling the latest fashions. “Whereas I have all this natural cushioning! See? All soft and comfy on the floor.”

Diana blinks, then bursts into incredulous laughter. “Did you just call me bony? No, no, you can’t take that back! Now I have to sleep on the floor,” she teases, stepping into the circle of her cape. She sits, tugs the fur up around her shoulders. “If I share the bed with you, I might injure you with my sharp bones.” She grins up at Etta.

“Oh, lordy, I didn’t mean… But you don’t like the floor. You just said! The floor is hard and cold and lonely!”

Diana pokes at her knee, the jut of her hipbone, all the places where her bones run close to the surface, obviously amused by the idea of being fragile. “Well, yes. But it’s not going to hurt me.” She glances up and sees Etta’s expression. “Oh, Etta, don’t fret, it’s fine. It takes far more than a floor to hurt me. And I don’t get cold, not really. As for lonely…” The smile is still there, but it’s gone brave and wistful. She shrugs. “I’ve been lonely since Themyscira.”

Oh, fudge. She will most definitely die here, but she is Etta Candy, and she chooses to die a soldier’s death.

She marches to the bed, plucks up the pillows, and drops them on the floor next to Diana, who looks up in surprise. Etta kicks off her shoes, then kneels down heavily on the fur cape. She gestures for Diana to move over. “Well go on, make space for me.”

“What are you…?”

“Sleeping with you,” Etta huffs, and manhandles a bewildered Diana until they’re curled up together on the floor, Etta spooned around Diana’s back. There isn’t enough cape to wrap around them both, but with Diana against her front and a curl of the fur pulled around her back, Etta is warm enough. And Diana says she never gets cold, so that’s fine.

“You’re not going to change?” Diana asks. On other nights, she has teased Etta about her voluminous nightgown.

“I’m fine, go to sleep.”

“But I took off my armour,” Diana complains, and Etta would swear she is pouting. Nevertheless, Diana snuggles back into Etta’s body, a series of small, worming movements until the fit between their bodies is perfect. Diana tangles her fingers with Etta’s, lifts her hand and kisses her knuckles. Her heart stuttering, Etta returns the kiss against Diana’s shoulder blade. That’s as high as Etta can reach; even laying down, Diana is very tall.

“Etta?” Diana asks, a little while later.

“Can’t talk, sleeping,” Etta says into Diana’s back. It is a lie; she is most definitely not sleeping. She can’t even imagine sleeping.

Diana giggles, and if Etta hadn’t already been gone for this woman, she would be now. “That was a lie. You’re lying,” Diana scolds, but Etta determinedly doesn’t respond. Her mission tonight is to hold Diana until she’s not lonely anymore. Etta will certainly be dead by morning, but she will have earned her place in Valhalla.

“Etta,” Diana tries again. “Is there a reason we’re on the floor?”

“Yes,” Etta responds immediately, hoping to put enough conviction into the answer to spare her having to discuss it.

A minute passes, long enough for Etta to believe her hopes have been realised.

“Is it a good reason?” Diana asks.

Etta doesn’t answer.

“I only ask because…” Diana turns herself over in Etta’s arms, a series of flops in place, like a beached sea-mammal, and Etta is gratified to know that not even Diana can make that maneuver look graceful. Etta’s gratitude is short-lived, however, because Diana takes Etta’s face in her hands and kisses her gently on the lips.

Etta’s brain whites out.

“…because while I am not cold,” Diana is saying, “and neither am I lonely, the floor is still hard, and I am still bony.” Diana puts a hand on Etta’s waist. Her fingers trace the steel struts of Etta’s corset. “Also, I think you will be more comfortable without your armour. But if you prefer to sleep here, like this, then I am content, too.” Diana’s smile is pure grace.

Wondering at herself, Etta reaches up and kisses that smile. Diana kisses back with the same heartfelt sincerity that she pours into everything.

Perhaps Etta will die here tonight, but it will only be a little death. Perhaps even many of them. And Etta will not die alone: Diana has always been firm that a general should die with her soldiers.

Etta heaves Diana up to lie on top of her. She can’t breathe from the combined pressure of her corset and Diana’s weight, but Etta is no longer afraid of death. “See? Soft and comfy,” Etta says, then winces as Diana’s hipbone juts into her thigh. “Okay, yes, I think maybe the bed–”

Who does most of the cleaning? Etta. In fact she occasionally gives Diana a hard time about it, but when Diana offers to help, Etta waves her away. Dusting and ironing are as calming as making tea when you live a life of constant adventure. Yesterday Etta had to jump out of a plane. She’ll sort out the mud Diana tracked into the house, thank you. (Also, she did live alone for years, so doing chores on her own comes more naturally to her than trying to divide tasks with someone who’s never any of it before.)

What has a season pass on their DVR/who controls the Netflix queue? As there’s no such thing in this time era, I’ll trade this out for seeing movies at the cinema. And usually it’s Etta, because she keeps up with such things and Diana doesn’t, though if Diana sees a poster she likes they’ll go to that one instead. Diana is much more spur of the moment, though, so when it comes to unplanned things – a walk in the park, a shared ice cream cone, sight seeing – Diana holds the reigns and Etta’s hurrying after her.

Who calls up the super/landlord when the heat’s not working? Etta. She’s the first to get angry when something doesn’t work right, and she’ll get right on the phone or march right to the owner of an establishment (their apartment, a hotel, a restaurant, etc) and raise hell if she has to. She mostly prefers to shmooze her way through things, since it’s safer and gets better or faster results, but you bet your butt she’ll start it on you if that doesn’t work. If it’s something Etta thinks can’t be helped by talking (like how rude a man was to them or poor working conditions, etc), Diana starts giving dramatic, impassioned speeches, or starts yelling indignantly.

Who steals the blankets? Both of them are guilty of it. Diana pursues everything with enthusiasm, and that includes being asleep and wanting to be comfortable; she’ll pull and accidentally roll Etta right off the bed if Etta doesn’t wake her up in time. Similarly, Etta sleeps like the dead and is still used to sleeping alone, so she’ll start curling up and tucking over and Diana will wake up naked and uncovered while Etta is a warm, comfortable bug next to her. It just gives Diana an excuse to smirk, turn over, and tickle Etta awake.

Who leaves their stuff around? The less we talk about how often Etta trips over Diana’s weapons and Diana sits on Etta’s scattered newspapers, the better.  

Who remembers to buy the milk? One time Etta sent Diana out alone for an errand (she really didn’t want to, because of the many, immediately obvious reasons why, but she had her own hands full and Diana was so damned eager to help) and Diana came back six hours later with three new friends, having saved one from a minor factory fire, one from an abusive husband, and one’s cat from a tree. She did not remember being sent out on an errand. The cat was adorable, though.

Who remembers anniversaries? Etta has an obsessive memory of precious dates but tries to be nonchalant about it, because who has time to fuss about over how many months ago a first kiss happened or when it was Diana first suggested they stop sleeping separately, but Diana always has a surprise for her or mentions it when whispering sweet things in her ear. Etta’s too charmed for her own good, but that’s being in love, she supposes.  

Who cooks normally? Etta loves to eat but isn’t the happiest about cooking – she gets anxious about making her own portions, because any time she’s showed an interest in anything culinary, someone has some snide comment about how tempting it’ll be to make ‘too much’. Diana loves her lover’s body and is quick to discourage fat shamers and Etta’s own internalized fatphobia, and one of the many ways she does this is by suggesting they cook together. She distracts Etta with being too bloody adorable, getting stuff on Etta’s face or trying to get her to lick her fingers, and it’s all smiles and enjoying flavors and no shame.

How often do they fight? Etta will yell something in the heat of the moment (you can’t keep running off like that!) and Diana will raise her voice back (I am here to protect people!) but their actual arguments are usually had after the fighting or struggle is over and Etta wants to sit down and put her face in her hands and cry just to release the stress but won’t let herself, and Diana is still high on their success or, rarely, their failure. Diana is endlessly compassionate, so when she realizes Etta is only upset because she was frightened for Diana or frustrated at how fast and dangerous their life is, her face softens and she stops being defensive and indignant and instead comforts her, reassuring Etta that everything will be okay.

What do they do when they’re away from each other? Etta worries, Diana pines, but both of them focus on whatever task is keeping them apart because it’s usually an important one.

Nicknames for each other? As the months go by and their relationship progresses, Etta starts sassing Diana under her breath or behind her back, though it’s all out of fondness (bloody princess, absolutely out of your mind, etc) and occasionally when she’s feeling frisky she’ll call her “Di.”

Who is more likely to pay for dinner? Etta handles finances and thus pays for most things, she often poses as a secretary at places they’re investigating for nefarious things so she’ll chucklingly help herself to a bit of cash on the way out if their concerns prove true. (This is in direct contrast to when she sometimes gets worried about stealing if Diana picks someone’s apple in a yard or something.)

What would they get each other for gifts? Etta loves both frivolous gifts and practical ones, so Diana buys her things like shoes and umbrellas and flowers and treats, but most of all Etta likes candy, so of course that’s Diana’s first inclination when buying her something. Diana is always ruining her clothes so Etta tends to use gift giving as an opportunity to fix her wardrobe, but she’ll also sometimes give physical gifts, because Diana loves to come home and find Etta waiting for her in the tub or in bed.  

Who kissed who first? Diana started the kiss, drew back to make certain she wasn’t doing something Etta didn’t want to do, but it was Etta who dove back in with almost forceful need. Diana’s the most beautiful woman Etta’s ever seen, and Etta’s seen – and pined after – a lot of women.

Who made the first move? Etta, I think, but only accidentally. She made some self-deprecating remark about being a bit greedy when they were talking about attraction (probably sitting on some balcony, watching couples walk by below), and when Diana asked what she meant, Etta talked about her lesbian friends giving her a hard time for falling head over heels for people regardless of gender. “It’s difficult enough getting by liking just the one, what with our lack of women-only islands out here in “man’s world”, however you’d like to call it. And here I am, liking men just the same, and whoever else I suppose, and that’s a bitter pill to swallow for some. They don’t notice that for all that flexibility, I’m still here alone.” And she laughed and tried to make it into a joke but Diana was looking at her with these big, full eyes, going from confused, to angry and indignant, to soft and tender. She held Etta’s hand and was like, “You are not alone” and Etta tittered and said “Well, the view’s certainly been nice lately” in this dismissive way, but Diana immediately smirked and murmured, “You enjoy watching me.” And it was not a question.

The rest’s history.

Who started the relationship? Diana. She and Etta had been carrying on sexually for a few weeks, mostly a sporadic, in between missions/adventures sort of thing, when Diana asked for something more serious. She’d just saved Etta in a dramatic, action movie type situation, and while Etta was trying to be serious and NOT swoon, thank you, Diana smiled at her and said, “I would like to court you.” And Etta tried to wave her off with the usual nonsense excuses (I’m much to old for you) (I’m mortal, you remember, and you haven’t aged a day since we met) but Diana only smiled and told her, “You are a brave and beautiful woman. To share with me your heart” and she cupped Etta’s cheek, the goddamn cheat, “as you share your body now, would make me very happy.” And then she may have dipped Etta and kissed her in front of people, which resulted in a lot less thrown rocks than Etta was expecting.

Who cusses more? Listen, Etta is a suffragette. She’s got plenty of dirty words to hurl back at shitty detractors.