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#anyway it’s been great. i like kid link he’s doing his best
notjustjavierpena · 8 months
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Cravings
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost
A/N: A while back, I saw a text post made by the lovely @kteague and immediately, it sparked a need for more husband!javi. This is the text post in question. It’s sososo great. You should go follow ❤️ It also made me realize that I haven’t written Javier going down on his wife, and honestly wtf??? This takes place before Lucas is born.
Summary: Javi isn’t perfect. He needs a nicotine high badly, but your pregnancy isn’t allowing you to tolerate the smell of cigarettes. He indulges in his next favorite thing to satisfy his craving; going down on his pregnant wife.
Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no y/n)
Tags: +18 smut (mdni), nicotine withdrawal, javier is a menace to the pussy eating society, pregnant sex, dirty talk, eat up javi
Word count: 1.8k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49812556
Cravings
Javier feels extra twitchy today. He paces around the house like a caged animal, tapping his fingers on the side of his thighs, and considers throwing caution to the wind and just having that damn smoke. He has a packet of cigarettes stashed in one of the potted plants outside, but it’s for emergencies only. Like that one time that his Pop had called him to say that a tree had fallen down on the barn overnight, and the very thought of the cost and time it would take to fix it had made him fly out the door to smoke in the far back of the garden.
He does it for you though. He’d do anything for you. Especially now that Lucas Peña is making his arrival in less than three months. He remembers you going into your second trimester, and you’d been around his cigarette smoke only to run to the toilet to reject your dinner. He never wants you to feel like that again, so he quit cold turkey. 
“Perhaps it won’t be a problem when we’re having the next one,” you had said to him, and he had stubbed out the cigarette immediately. He didn’t need the rush of nicotine, because he had the rush of you already thinking of more kids. He knew that he wanted a family with you since he saw you, but only then he had known just how big of a family.
But Javier needs the rush now. He has been through all of the coping mechanisms; sweets, rubber bands on his wrists, even has run out of nicotine gum but he doesn’t dare go to the store in case he comes home with more cigarettes. Has run out of patches too, which he would like to plaster his arms in right now.
You are not home and he needs you. He has a rare day off and you are not home. When are you coming home? He watches the clock, hears the ticking, and wants to rip it off the wall. You’re usually home by now. Where the fuck are you? 
Fuck it. Javier speedwalks to the door to the garden.  He is just about to rip it open, harsh enough to be tearing it off its hinges when he hears the front door. 
“Javi?” You call out his name so heavenly, “Can you help me with the groceries?” 
Oh, so that’s what you have been doing instead of coming straight home to him. He finds you by the front door, barely successful in holding two brown bags and your keys at the same time. Without hesitation, he takes both bags from you and heads to the kitchen to place them on the counter.
“You could’ve asked me to pick something up, y’know,” he says as he busies his hands by unloading everything into their respective places. His hands shake; he needs something to hold onto but you won’t let it be you if the milk hasn’t gone in the fridge yet.
“I was passing by anyway,” you enter the kitchen and start helping him, and he can feel your eyes watching him with curiosity at his urgency, “What’s up with you?”
“There’s something up because I’m helping you in the kitchen?” He quips.
You laugh quietly, “Well… yeah.”
Javier doesn’t know if it’s funny, but he knows that he needs an excuse to get you worked up so that he can satisfy his cravings in the way that works the very best.
He finishes unloading the groceries, turns to you, and doesn’t even hesitate despite you holding onto a box of cereal; he kisses you right then and there. It’s a long, deep, and satisfying kiss with his hands rubbing up and down your sides. You gasp into his mouth, melt against him, and awkwardly put the cereal box onto the kitchen counter so that you can embrace him right back. 
“Thank fucking God you’re home,” he mumbles into you, relishing in the taste and warmth of your tongue. He is insisting in the way he holds you close, and starts to guide you out of the kitchen and towards the bedroom at the end of the hall. 
“Javi,” you protest as you realize his motives. He doesn’t relent, and you reluctantly drag your lips away from his. He groans in frustration, but you find his eyes with flushed cheeks and he might just burst right then at the shy look you are giving him, “I can’t. I haven’t even… I need a shower.”
“No, you fucking don’t,” he opens the door, realizing that the window has been open all day to air out your shared bedroom. You shiver at the cold air and Javier feels like he might be seeing stars soon when he notices your nipples hardening underneath your top. He steers you to the bed by your hips, “Need it. Please don’t deny me, mi amor.”
“What’s gotten into you?” You groan after another kiss, one where Javier’s hand comes up to cup your breast as he devours your mouth. Then you let yourself be guided down onto the bed, legs hanging out over the edge and Javier kneeling down on the floor. 
“Ran outta nicotine gum,” he mutters, too busy undoing your last pair of jeans in a while; they’re straining against your growing belly but he knows how much you love this pair. He yanks them down over your hips after he has undone the zipper.
“Makes sense,” you lift your hips to help him. 
“So lemme have this?” He pleads. He notices the wet patch that has formed on your white cotton panties, refraining from chuckling to himself. You aren’t going to say no. 
“Yes,” your breath hitches in your throat as he finds your clit on the outside of your underwear. He rubs in lazy circles and watches the wet and shiny patch grow larger underneath his touch. He even dares to press his finger against your slit, digging the fabric just slightly into you. 
“Chica sucia,” he says softly as you let out a sigh of pleasure, “So filthy walking around with your pretty little panties so wet.”
“Hasn’t been like this long,” you argue, “Just since you kissed me. Still think I need a shower.”
Javier shakes his head, “Like you like this. Can’t stop thinking about this pussy.”
He slides your underwear down over your thighs, calves, and then ankles. He drops them onto the floor by your jeans, admiring your legs and the cute bows on the socks you are still wearing. You are so beautiful that he might lose his mind, growing belly right in front of him as he kisses his way up your right leg and hears your smile through your moan. 
“Javi,” you say when he loses himself in staring at your swollen cunt a little too long. He can see your clit jump in anticipation and it makes his mouth water, cigarettes long forgotten. 
He pulls you a little closer to the edge of the bed, large hands slipping under the backside of your thighs to bend and spread your legs simultaneously. He handles them roughly and places them flat on the surface of the bed, causing you to whine. Then his palms slide upward to rest on the swell of your belly, his broad shoulders holding your legs in position so you don’t clamp down on his head just yet. He isn’t in doubt that he’d be able to count your heartbeats with the way your cunt throbs. 
“Please,” you clench once, and slick drips from your slit. 
“Shh,” he coos. 
And then he goes down on you like he hasn’t in a long while. He credits himself with being enthusiastic about eating you out every time, but he rarely has the frustration of withdrawal from nicotine to accompany him in his hunger for your sweet taste. He runs his mouth over your whole cunt, kisses your jumping clit, and sucks the slick off where it has smeared across your folds. You taste better than ever, salty and slightly sweet in a way that a shower would have ruined. 
“Mhm,” he hums whilst satiating his cravings. Your breathy moans reward him more than he thinks a smoke could right now. His fingers start to dent your protruding belly, holding on tight as he flicks your clit with his tensed-up tongue over and over again. 
“Just like th— ah, fuck,” you reach for his wrists to desperately hold onto something. He goes harder, moaning into your pussy. It makes you shake on top of the sheets, gushing just a bit into his mouth and he swallows it down greedily. He wants more, dips down to slip his tongue into your cunt, and eats right from you. He fucks you open whilst nosing at your hard clit, the nub peeking out from underneath the hood to demand more attention. He will just have to suck it once and you’ll be screaming, but he needs a little more and reluctantly refrains from doing so. 
Your breathing has become more irregular by now, more high-pitched too. He knows you’re getting close but he keeps you dancing around the edge, tongue sliding through your folds as he bobs his head. 
“Fuck! Baby!” You cry loudly, bucking your hips to seek more friction. 
“Not yet, mi vida, just a moment more,” he mumbles against you, but his mouth still starts climbing up towards your clit again. 
You entwine your fingers with his, holding his hands tightly over your belly as your legs start to move involuntarily. Your feet flex, muscles rippling all the way to your thighs as you near climax.
“I’m… I-it’s gonna happen,” you whine at the ceiling, “Fuck, suck my clit. Javi— fuckfuckfuck.” 
He gives in, raises his head slightly to cover your clit with his mouth, and then he sucks hard. 
You come so hard that your legs find the strength to shoot up from where they are being held down on the bed. Your thighs clamp around Javier’s head, muffling the sound of your cries whilst he works you through every crashing wave of pleasure. 
“I’ll buy you that stupid gum,” you eventually say. 
“Huh?” Javier looks up at you.
“Your nicotine gum, I’ll go out and buy it later,” you clarify, letting go of Javier’s hands to throw your arms above your head on the bed. You stretch, letting out a soft moan, “It’s the least I can do.”
“You spoil me,” he crawls up onto the bed, lying down beside your exhausted body. You’re so perfect, he thinks to himself. 
“But first,” your breathing is finally getting under control again. You turn onto your side, and Javier finds himself supporting your pregnant belly as you move. You smile gently at him, reaching for his belt to unbuckle it with both hands, “I’m going to take care of you too. See… I too have cravings.”
Javier didn’t think that every passing second with someone could feel like his life had peaked. Yet here you were.
.
.
.
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lincolndjarin · 7 months
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Best Kept Secret
chapter twenty four : lunar interlude : riduur
ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧
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pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader
rating : 18+ mdni
word count : 7.8k (at last, a normal chapter length)
summary : din is so in love it's obscene at this point, keep it in your chest man (it being his heart.)
warnings, etc. : language, fluff, smut, this chapter is a sappy nightmare,,, like i've got one last chance to be sappy before i need to do my action packed finale so this is just me being sappy, din djarins so in love it makes me sick, fingering, p in v, clit stim, reverse cowgirl, creampie, cockwarming, massages, just general happiness like why are these idiots so happy what is their problem
a/n : WOOF this took a fucking WHILE to get out, and for those who waited, prepare to be UNDERWHELMED lmao. this is the last chapter before the final arc of the story and i was feeling rather sentimental while I wrote it. anyhow,,, i have a million excuses for why this took so long but like who cares cause it's here now yippee!!! as for every chapter i've ever posted i have no idea if i like this or not so there's that, i kind of hate this one the way i hate every lunar interlude, like i've never written a din pov and felt good about it lmao so i guess we'll see. comments and reblogs are appreciated <3
He doesn’t deserve this.
How could he possibly be deserving of you? Yet somehow you make him feel as if he is. With your soft touch and the way your eyes get just a little bigger when you see him. 
He’s going to ask you to marry him.
Is that something he can do? 
Technically of course you don’t really consider yourself married as far as he can tell. Sure you have a husband but that’s all he is, a husband. 
An obstacle. 
The two of you could still be married. 
And you wanted to leave this place. So he was going to give you exactly that. 
A home, far away from here. 
He pulls you into the cabin, wanting nothing more than for you to see the smile on his face. Of course you won’t let him do that much to his confusion. 
Maybe if you’re married to him you’ll look. 
The longer you wait the more nervous he gets about it. 
A lot can go wrong with this kind of thing. 
Very specifically, you could just not find him attractive in the slightest, which wouldn’t be great all things considered. If that happened maybe he could just live with the helmet on and you’d be okay with that. 
“Do you want to sleep here tonight or go back to the castle?” You look exhausted as he asks, he practically carries you towards the bed. 
“Here’s fine.” You look too tired to walk back anyway. 
He drags the mattress off of the busted frame, setting it on the floor. You seem surprised that he didn’t have a bigger reaction to your love confession. 
He did the first time you’d said it a few days ago. 
After the first day stuck in your room, you had said it that night. All you had wanted to do that day was fight and he hadn’t been able to give you even that. He knew you were right. It was stupid to stay. 
Even if things are okay now. 
You had said his name so clearly with such urgency that he believed you might be about to start another argument in the middle of the night.
“Din?” You had grabbed the front of his shirt and it wasn’t until he’d tried to talk to you that he’d realized you were still asleep. 
“Are you okay, sarad?” He sat up and cradled your head in his hands but you’d only held on tighter as you mumbled in your sleep.
“I love you.” And just like that you were collapsing back in his arms, still asleep as if nothing had happened. 
He hadn’t cried like he did that night since the kid left. 
And it didn’t matter when you didn’t say it back in the morning. (Despite the fact that he had said it quite a bit.) You loved him and he knew it. And he had made sure to show you just how much he loved you on that second day. 
He grins as you sit down on the bed with a yawn. He takes it upon himself to kneel beside you, unlacing the back of your gown. You have no resistance as he helps peel the rain soaked fabric from your skin. 
“Let me get you a change of clothes.” He leaves you to get out of the rest as he finds you a simple set of sleep wear. You let him redress you until he finally lays you down and stands, going to change out of his own wet clothes. 
When he steps out of the fresher you’ve turned the lights off he's in a clean flight suit with his helmet on as he slides under the blankets with you. 
“Warm enough?” The cabin feels colder than the castle as he pulls you closer. 
“I’m perfectly comfortable here.” Your voice is heavy with sleep as he rests his chin on the top of your head, beskar bumping against your hair. 
“Get some sleep.” He mumbles, not bothering to close his own eyes. 
“You promised you’d eat the candy.” You whisper into the darkness, you sound  barely conscious. 
“I did not.” At least he’s pretty sure he didn’t, he’s realized at this point that if he says anything with enough confidence you usually believe it. 
“You alluded to it.” You’re right, he probably did. 
“Do you really want to see the damage I would do after eating that thing?” He’ll never do it. In all honesty he’s a little nervous he’ll accidentally hurt you.
“A little.” You flip over in his arms so you’re facing him now, when you look at him he finds himself falling victim to the pleading look in your eyes. Damn nightvision. 
“Go to sleep.” He has to close his eyes, if he stares at you too long he’ll give in despite his own worries. “I love you.” He murmurs. He needs you to know it. 
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” You laugh softly before going silent. 
It only takes a few more minutes before your breathing gets quiet and steady against him. 
When he’s certain you’re asleep he reaches over to turn the lamp back on. You’d think with how often he does this that you’d have seen his face on accident at some point but maybe he’s just really lucky. 
He likes to look at you without the helmet on.
It’s fine with it, but nothing compares to seeing you without the barrier. Sometimes, if he’s still wearing the helmet and he takes it off you smile in your sleep when the airlock hisses. But since you’re insistent on not looking he doesn’t get a lot of opportunities to really look at you. So he does it on nights like these. 
You get so sleepy after sex. 
So he gets to hold you, and watch how your eyes flutter open the tiniest bit when he can’t help himself and kisses your cheeks until he can bring himself to sleep. Or how you mumble back to him when he whispers things to you in Mando’a. 
Most importantly you look less worried when you sleep. You always look so worried but not when you’re like this. There is plenty to be worried about so he can’t hold it against you. 
He’s going to build you a house someday. And he’s going to give you a garden. 
So you can go outside and look at the flowers whenever you want. 
And you won’t ever have to worry again. 
With a soft hiss of air he removes his helmet, setting it somewhere in the sheets as he looks at you, unburdened. He likes the way your lips part just a little bit as the corners of your mouth lift. 
He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your cheek before rolling over to rest his head on your chest so he can feel you breathe until he falls asleep, it helps him to match your breathing. Your hands hold him, even in your sleep you run your hands across his back and shoulders. One time you had a nightmare and you pulled his hair so hard you’d woke yourself up. But he’d never complain, it’s one of his favorite things about you. You love him even when you’re sleeping. Like right now, your nails lighty scratch at the nape of his neck. 
It helps him sleep.
When he wakes up he’s got a blanket thrown over his head and you’re already up, sitting at the table.
“You fell asleep without your helmet on.” He hears you grumble. 
“Sorry.” He chuckles as he searches for it in the mess of sheets only to find you’d set it on the floor beside him. Once it’s properly in place he finds you reading. He stands behind you, looking over your shoulder. 
“How did you find that?” He tries to grab the translation book but you swat his hand away. 
“You said we had no secrets.” Your eyes are scanning the pages. “Ner means mine.” You grin up at him as you say it. 
“Yes, it does.” He stares right back down at you. 
You lean backwards, grabbing the front of his shirt. 
“Ner.” 
Would you think less of him if you knew how often his face turned red when you spoke to him like that? A few weeks ago that kind of worry would drive him mad, but now? He knows you wouldn’t mind, knowing you'd probably feel accomplished to get such a reaction from him. 
“Gar serim.” You’re right. He murmurs back before getting your things together, listening to the sound of the pages frantically flipping behind him as you look for the words.
When you find the page you give him a dopey smile 
He suddenly remembers something, going to the fresher and searching through last night's wet clothes he finds the vial, bringing it to you, you don’t need any instruction from him as you pop the cap off, drinking the contents before setting it aside. 
“What do you want to do today?” He holds up the scraps of your dress, trying to decide if it’s even worth putting back on. 
“I’m a little tired, maybe we could read today.” You turn just in time to watch him toss it back on the ground. 
“Sounds perfect.” This will give him some much needed time to think.
He has a plan for today. There are a few things that he needs to get done before he leaves.
Like tell you that he has to leave. 
Of course he doesn’t want to leave you, even if it’s only going to be for a few days, but he wants to do this the right way and to do that he needs to leave. 
Just a few days. And then he doesn’t have to leave you ever again. 
And he needs to get away from you long enough to make the failsafe he knows you don’t want. You’re always together at this point, (not that he would have it any other way.) so it won’t be easy to find time away to do it but he’ll figure it out. 
“We should get going.” He’s pretty sure he has everything he needs and you need to be back in your room before any staff might notice you’re gone. 
“But  I wanna keep doing this.” You give him your sad eyes as you gesture to the book and he’s already ready to give in. 
“You can bring that to the library.” He groans and that’s all the convincing needed to get you on your feet. He manages to get you back to your room just before the girls arrive. He stands where he’s expected to stand out in the hall. It’s the only time he really spends away from you. 
When the door opens he instinctively stands up a little straighter.
They put you in a white dress. 
A pretty white dress. 
Did you know what this would do to him? 
You can’t possibly know the effect this kind of thing has on him, if you did you wouldn’t put him through this. 
“Ready?” He says as he peers at the translation book still happily tucked under your arm.
“Of course.” He’s mesmerized by your gown, it’s simpler than the ones they normally do you up in, white fabric flowing off your shoulders down to the floor, as you walk it trails behind you a bit. It’s a familiar quiet as he walks you to those large wooden doors, opening them as you rush inside. 
“What do you want to read today?” You’re searching around the shelves, you’ve already set your own reading in the nook. 
“Surprise me.” He won’t be reading today anyway, he needs to plan. 
“Here.” You hand him a book on speeder maintenance, normally he’d be thrilled to spend the day reading the sort of thing but he really should just take today to think. 
He sits first. Leaving space between his legs for you to sit which you happily do. Once you’re settled he opens his book, pretending to read as he lets his mind focus on what's important. 
Starting with the part where he tells you he’s leaving.
Or that he’s decided rather recently that he needs to leave.   
He should just do it now, get it out of the way so it stops bothering him, especially because he’d like to leave as soon as possible, but you seem so relaxed right now and he’d hate to ruin that. 
So he’ll focus more on the trip itself than the telling you part. 
It should only take a few days. A quick trip to the forge and back. 
He’s pretty sure he’s found out where the convert currently is. He doesn't have as much free time as he used to so it took a little outside help, seeking out old colleagues until finally hearing word of an outer rim planet where they might be located. He’ll catch a transport ship there, take care of what needs to be taken care of, and be back to you before he knows it. 
Then you can plan your life together. 
He would love to just bring you to the forge with him, go from there and never look back. That would be ideal. To get you out of here as quickly as possible. But that’s not possible, if he’s gonna go this he’s gonna do it right, so he’ll plan everything down to the last detail to make sure that it’s as safe as possible. If he’s being realistic he knows you’ll have to do something drastic, probably along the lines of faking your death. 
Will he have to kill Kodo? 
He’d like to. 
He’s wanted to kill Kodo for some time now, he’s just a little worried you’d be mad, you were so mad when he hit him. 
He never wanted you to be that mad at him ever again. 
So maybe he won’t. 
That would be the easiest way to get you out though, to be fair. Kill Kodo and run, and deal with the consequences after. He’ll hide you away somewhere until things die down and then he’ll build you something permanent. A home for the both of you. 
He could also just whisk you away into the night one of these days. 
He honestly isn’t sure how long they’d look for you, the last thing he’d want is for you to have to live a life on the run, he wants for the both of you to be able to settle. If it was clear he had taken you it would be deemed a kidnapping, it would be a long search, how long would they look if they believed you just ran away? He doesn’t talk to other staff members enough to know how seriously the royal family would take such a thing. 
Faking your death would probably be the easiest thing. 
No one comes looking for you. 
He isn’t entirely sure how you’ll handle that suggestion but if you’re serious about starting a life together it isn’t going to be easy. 
“I’ll be right back.” He stands, and you immediately give him a confused look, he never gets up and leaves, but he’s just realized that you’ll need to be taken care of while he’s gone. Who will protect you when he’s away? He definitely doesn’t trust anyone here to watch over you, Elaine would be his first choice but she’s busy when she isn’t tending to you and in all honesty he isn’t sure what she would do if something were to happen to you. 
So he’ll have to go with someone who he knows is available to watch you and who he’s certain won’t harm you. 
You aren’t going to be happy with his choice. 
When he steps out into the hall he calls his name, a few moments later Leo appears, he already seems reluctant, Din never summons him but this is important, and he doesn’t have any other options. 
“I’m leaving, tomorrow, I have to take care of some things, Kodo said it would be fine for me to take time off when I took the job.” Tomorrow. Well that’s settled then he supposes. The twi’lek trembles under his gaze, clearly unsure as to where he’s going with this.  
“While I’m gone you will watch her.” Din adds on at the end, Leo looks clearly unhappy with this arrangement as he stumbles back a bit. 
“Me?” 
“I won’t repeat myself. You will watch her, you will make sure she doesn’t leave the castle when I am gone. If somebody tries to get near her, you stop them, if somebody tries to hurt her, you will stand between them, if she gets hurt you will feel whatever pain she feels tenfold upon my return. If she so much as gets a papercut while she’s reading in the library there will be repercussions.” He straightens his posture to make himself the tiniest bit more imposing over Leo. “Is that understood?”
“Yes, you’re understood.” Based on the fear in Leo’s eyes he’s certain he may have gone a little overboard but he’d rather be safe than sorry. 
“Good.”
That’s taken care of. 
Once Leo is gone, disappearing down the hall, he opens the door, slipping back into the library where you’re standing in the entryway.
At least he doesn’t have to figure out how to tell you. 
“You’re leaving.” You say it like it’s a fact. Which of course you now know it is. 
“Yes.” No sense in hiding it. 
“And you just weren’t going to tell me?” He definitely should have told you. 
“I was just about to tell you.” He hates when you look at him the way you are now. Like you can see right through the steel, like you know he’s lying, like you can see the guilty expression on his face. “I was going to tell you soon. I have to go take care of some things.” 
“Take me with you.” You say it more like a demand and less like a request. He probably should have seen that one coming, even if he wasn’t going to get something to surprise you with he probably wouldn’t be allowed to take you off planet. 
“I wish I could, sarad, but I have to go alone, I’ll only be gone a few days.” Kriff, he really should have told you sooner. 
“Where are you going?” You cross your arms in front of your chest. 
“I… can’t tell you.” Not a great excuse, he knows that. 
“If I’m being honest I don’t love the sound of that.” He can’t blame you, if your roles were reversed he wouldn’t just let you go. 
“I know but I need you to trust me, I’ll only be gone a few days.”
“And you absolutely have to go?” You sound less mad and more upset now. If he wasn’t leaving to do something for you, your expression alone would be enough to make him stay. 
“Yes. He says it like he’s confirming it for himself. 
“I’ll miss you.” All the anger has left your voice, now you just sound sad. 
“I’ll miss you.” More than anything. 
“When will you be back?” 
“I’m not sure exactly, I won’t be long.” Unless he can’t find the convert, but you don’t need to know that part. You nod and he’s a little surprised at your acceptance of all this. “I have to leave in the morning.” A deep frown settles on your face. 
“So soon?” He really should have told you sooner.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. If you have to then you have to.” You give him such a sad smile, he wishes he didn’t have to go but he wants to do this right. 
“Can you stay here, I’ll come get you in a few hours.” He cradles your face in his hands, wishing he could wash away any of your doubts, but now that you know he should probably go get ready. “I have to go pack a few things, I’ll be back before dark, okay?” 
“And then you’ll stay with me the rest of the night?” And every night after. 
“Of course.” 
“Okay then, hurry back.” 
This will also probably be the only chance he gets to make that fail safe.  
He lifts his helmet a bit to plant a kiss on your forehead before leaving you, watching as you instinctively close your eyes as he does. There isn’t a lot of time for him to do what he needs to do before you’ll be expecting him so he gets back to the cabin as quickly as possible.
He’s quick with everything, packing his bag with only the essentials and tossing the empty box down before finally sitting down at the table. 
Now to write the note. A letter with instructions on what to do if something ever happens to him. 
He doesn’t like the idea of you being left alone with your husband. The thought of it makes him sick. 
If another body guard were hired they wouldn’t protect you from him. 
Maybe he should ask Elaine to help you if that happens. 
She could get you out. 
If he wasn’t here he would want you to leave as quickly as possible, to go somewhere safe. He lists out all the places you could go, names and coordinates of people who can keep you safe at the mention of his name. He spends a solid hour staring at that piece of paper, writing out anything he’d want you to know before folding it up and setting it in the box. 
With that taken care of he kneels on the floor, feeling around until locating the familiar loose board under the kitchen table. 
He’d found it a week after moving in and it seemed like a perfectly good spot to hide things. He’s got a collection of things already set aside for you, he pulls each item from its hiding spot, putting them into the box before holding up a small chainmail shirt. He retrieves the stick shift knob from the shelf, wrapping it in the shirt and putting it in the box. 
In his note he’s left you with a task, to give those to the kid, and to tell him that he’s sorry. 
Lastly he fills a bag with credits, about a month's salary, you should be able to buy yourself a ship if you want, he isn’t sure if you’d know how to fly it but with the money provided you can pay someone to fly it for you. With that he sets the box under an extra flight suit in his bag before returning to the castle, on his way out the door he grabs the few bars of beskar he has. 
You’re right where he left you in the library, your brows furrowed as you stare at that damn book, he should have hidden it better. 
“Wanna go get some dinner?” You look up when he speaks, holding his hand out which you gladly take as he pulls you towards him. 
“We can do that. You’re all packed?” Thankfully you look less upset than you had earlier. 
“All packed.” He drops your hand as he opens the door, following you as you walk to the kitchens. He watches the way the back of your dress just barely drags along the stone floors as you ask for two dinners, handing his to him to carry with a smile as you continue to walk.
When you arrive back at your chambers you’re quick to lock the door, he watches as you rush to the closet, already sitting with your back to him when he steps inside, dim lamp light illuminates the room as he sits, his back brushing against yours as he listens to the sounds of your eating. 
What he wouldn’t give to eat face to face. 
He can’t remember the last time he shared a normal meal with someone. He ate in front of the kid but he always kept the helmet on, it would have been years and years ago, maybe with his parents. 
He finds the latch for his helmet, tossing it aside, he’s already decided he won’t be putting it back on tonight, he chews his food thoughtfully. What would life look like with you after this place? He certainly wouldn’t want to eat dinner like this every night. 
Maker, why won’t you just look? Everything would be easier if you’d just look. He would abandon his creed entirely if that’s what you wanted. Instead he loves the one person in the galaxy who doesn’t want to look. 
“You’re being quiet.” You finally break the silence as he sits up a little straighter.
“I’m always quiet.” He murmurs. 
“You think I don’t know that? You’re being extra quiet, what’s wrong.” 
“Nothing’s wrong.” He takes another bit as you lean back against him, resting your back on his as he hears you set your plate aside.
“You’ve been quiet all day.” Of course he has, he has to leave you tomorrow and you’ve been in a white dress all day. 
“I’m quiet every day.” He finishes his food quickly, reaching around blindly until he finds your plate, standing to set the both outside the room, when he turns around this time he faces you, kneeling on the floor behind you as he plays with the lace on the back of the dress, lining a series of buttons in a straight line down your spine. 
“You’re avoiding the point.” You snap at him but he just continues to trail his fingers across the intricate patterns of your dress.
“I’m just gonna miss you, that’s all.” 
“I’m gonna miss you too.” Your tone has softened.
“Want me to show you how much I’m gonna miss you?” He gives the back of your gown a teasing tug. 
“That might be nice.” You’re already reaching towards the lamp but he takes your hand, guiding it back into your lap. 
“Leave it.”
“Din…” You have a soft warning tone as he kisses your exposed shoulder. 
“Please, I want to see you.” He murmurs against your skin as he bunches up the fabric of your dress, pulling it up towards your hips. 
“But-” He’s quick to cut you off. 
“It’s fine, if you don’t look then you won’t see.” He swiftly unlatches his armor, setting it aside as he pulls you into his lap, his chest flush with your back. He turns to kiss your cheek, watching your eyes flutter shut as he does. 
He bunches up your skirt enough so he can see your thighs, pulling his gloves off so he can touch you, he likes the feeling of his skin on yours, how often does he get to have this? Only ever with you, not that he’d have it any other way. You’re just so soft, he likes the way you feel when he spreads your thighs a little wider, watching your mouth open a tiny bit as you inhale sharply. He’s already terribly hard, trying not to rut against your ass as he lets one hand dip between your legs, under your skirt, as the other one drifts up towards your chest, splayed out across your sternum to keep you in place.
He pushes your panties to the side, admiring the wetness he finds already there as he swipes his fingers along your seam. He tilts his head to the side, eager to watch your expression unburdened by his helmet as he pushes two fingers into you. 
Once he’s in your peripheral you close your eyes, leaving him to observe the way your mouth falls open as he gently slides his digits in and out, feeling you shift in his lap to grind against his palm. 
He’s fascinated by you, by the way you move in sync with him, with each movement of his hand you match it with a rock of your hips, or by arching your back.
“Din-” Your voice comes out as a high strangled cry that makes his cock ache against the fabric of his flight suit. 
“Go ahead, I wanna watch.” He mumbles as he presses his cheek to yours, staring down, mesmerized by the sight of you riding his fingers, his own mouth falling open as he feels your entire body tense up, feeling you clamp down on his fingers as you come. He keeps his fingers inside of you until your breathing evens out, once you come down from your orgasm he removes them, bringing them to his mouth as he uses his other hand to reach between the two of you, pulling his cock free. He stares down at the sight of himself against the pretty white fabric of your dress as he moans against his own fingers, stroking himself for a moment before popping his digits out of his mouth, grabbing your hips and lifting you a bit. 
He lets out a small groan as your hands reach down to line him up at your entrance, he lets go of your hips, letting you sink yourself down onto him, his hands wrapping around your thighs instead, squeezing the meat there with a pleased hum. 
You’re going at your own pace as he fights his own impatience, doing his best to not thrust up into you as he latches his mouth onto your shoulder, biting softly as you take nearly all of him, gasping his name the entire time. 
After another moment you’re fully sat in his lap, your breathing heavy as one of his hands moves from your thigh to your clit.
“Can you come again? Like this?” He rasps the words out against your skin, you nod as he begins to swirl his fingers in small precise circles, his moans match your own as he feels you slowly lift yourself off of him, your chest bouncing as you fuck yourself on him. 
Gods as his witness he’ll never wear his helmet again during sex. 
It’s just better to really see you like this, he can’t believe he deprives himself of this so often, the way your body trembles, the sounds you make, everything is simply better without the filters and the modulation. 
“Maker- Din!” Your strained plea snaps him out of his thoughts as he looks at your face, your eyes and nose scrunched up in frustration. “Please, fuck me, Din please.” You always sound so sweet, at this rate he’ll never be able to say no to you.  
He sits up a little to give himself more leverage, one arm wrapped around your waist to steady you, his other hand reaching behind himself to prop himself up as he thrusts up into you. His hips snapping up as he grits his teeth, a growl forming in his throat. He keeps you there for a bit, keeping up a brutal pace as he lets gravity do most of the work, bouncing you on his length, eventually relaxing after feeling your legs give out from under you. He sits back up on his knees, steadying you with both bands now, keeping you impaled on his cock as he leans forward, kissing up the column of your throat.    
“Kiss me, please.” He murmurs against your jaw, desperate for more of you as he lets out a low whine, wishing you would just look at him.
Your eyes shut as you turn your head to kiss him, he brings one hand up to your face, his other still on your stomach as he groans, rocking his hips upwards again. 
“You can look.” He pants, holding his forehead to yours as he stares at your face, contorted in pleasure as he pushes himself deeper into you, watching the way your eyes flutter a bit, never actually opening.
“I- I can’t.” You gasp out as he fucks up into you, short shallow thrusts, relishing in the way you take him, squeezing his cock with every rock of his hips, the way your face looks as he leans in for another kiss, quick and chaste, a sharp juxtaposition to how he’s fucking you, only pulling out in the slightest before slamming back into you. 
“You can, I want you to.” His voice is ragged and desperate at this point. 
“I will, just, not tonight.” 
“Ni vercopaanir gar Ru'kel haa'taylir.” I wish you would look. 
“I will, Din- I promise I will.” He’s sure you didn’t learn enough to know what he said but he’s still satisfied with that answer.
“Okay.” He kisses you again, swallowing your moans as he picks up the pace, pulling you down onto him as he rocks his hips upwards. He manipulates your body like it’s nothing, his hands holding you tightly enough to keep you upright as he continues to slam himself into you, you’re soaking his cock at this point as he muffles his grunts with your mouth. He knows you’re both nearly there, with the way your words become nonsensical. He turns his head to whisper into your ear. “Come for me, sarad.” He groans, his mouth falling open as a slew of filthy noises fall past his lips he feels you pulse around him, he frantically goes to pull out but you shake your head no, slamming your hips back against his and riding out your orgasm he watches you mumble, barely coherently. 
“In- Inside, Din.” 
You don’t have to tell him twice. You give him the sweetest cry as he bites down on your shoulder, he growls against your flesh as he releases the fire pooling in his stomach. 
“Bid jate- bid jate par ni.” So good for me. He mumbles against your shoulder.
He fucks his cum deeper into you with a few more sloppy thrusts before sitting back on his heels, staring at the ceiling as his chest heaves, letting you rest back against him as you go limp in his arms. 
Once he’s caught his breath he leans back, keeping himself inside you as he kicks his legs out. He swallows, still a little unsteady as you sit up, one of his hands wanders to you back, drawing a star there with one of his fingers. 
“Are you okay?” He whispers softly just before you lay back on top of him.
“Why do you do that?” He doesn’t stop you this time as you reach over and turn the lamp off, taking his hands and guiding him to turn the both of you onto your sides as his erection softens inside of you. 
“Do what?” He blinks, adjusting his eyes to the darkness and biting back a groan as you adjust yourself to put your hips flush with his.
“You switch languages, usually when you’re near the end, or when you say something kind.”
Oh.
He’s never really thought about that. 
“How did you know what I said?” He brushes a bit of hair behind your ear as he runs his hand down and up your spine slowly. 
“I asked my question first.”
“Fair enough. I guess it just happens, I’ve never really thought about why. I suppose it’s just another layer of armor, another way to conceal things.” You don’t respond, presumably thinking over his response. “Your turn, how did you know what I said?”
“I guessed.” Smart girl. 
“Of course you did.” He places a kiss against the back of your neck before resting the bridge of his nose there. “Do you wanna sleep like this?” He rocks his hips a bit to accentuate his point, drawing a gasp from you. 
“Yes, please.” You whisper back.
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” He smiles before closing his eyes, wrapping his arms around you, the last thing he feels before falling asleep is you intertwining your fingers with his. 
He wakes up before you, careful to leave you undisturbed as he reaches over to turn on the lamp, happy to just watch you for a few more minutes before he leaves. Watching the rise and fall of your chest. After a moment he realizes he slipped out of you while he slept.
He’s in no rush but he knows the moment you wake he’ll have to go so he stays still for a while, enjoying the morning quiet until your eyes slowly open, and you stretch your arms with a groan. 
“Good morning, sarad.” He says softly, kissing your shoulder as you shudder at the sensation. 
“You’re leaving.” You whisper to him.
“I am.” 
Much to his surprise you turn to face him, of course he realizes a second too late that your eyes are closed. 
“Be safe.” You murmur, taking his face in your hands before kissing him. Maybe this will be a happy morning despite his worries about going. 
“Always.” He gives you another kiss before sitting up, dressing himself quickly, looking over at you every so often only to find that your eyes are closed until you hear the soft hiss of his helmet. 
“I’m serious, you better be careful.” You sit up and face him as he kneels beside you.
“I will, I promise.” He holds your face in one hand. “Goodbye, sarad’ika.” You give him a radiant smile. 
“Ret'urcye mhi, cyare.” Goodbye, beloved. That’s what you’d been learning yesterday. He’s a little taken aback by the sound of those words leaving your mouth, his own smile forming. 
“Jate bora” Good job. 
He doesn’t tell you how poorly you pronounced each of those words, too infatuated to care as he leans down, lifting his helmet enough to kiss your forehead. 
“I’ll be back in a few days, okay?”
“Okay.” 
He uses his free hand to gently grab your chin, giving you one last kiss.
“I’ll see you soon.” Once he’s shut the closet door he slips the fail safe box under your bed. 
And just like that he’s out the door, on his way to the nearest shipyard. 
It goes surprisingly smoothly. 
He’s only gone for about four days, he gets lucky as far as transportation goes, managing to catch a cargo ship going directly to the planet he’s looking for. He doesn’t recognize it and in all honesty he isn’t sure he’s ever been there but he finds the convert easily enough.
It took a bit of convincing but he got what he needed from the armorer and just like that he was catching a ship back to you with two rings attached to a thin chain around his neck. 
He’s eager to see you immediately after landing but he’s filthy from the trip so he goes to the cabin first, shedding his armor and clothes before stepping into the fresher. He’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t started taking care of himself more after meeting you. 
He’d avoided mirrors all together until you. 
He’d shave when his beard got unmanageable. He’d cut his hair when it stuck out the back of his helmet. And that was it. 
And then you came along and suddenly he was staring at himself in the dingy mirror he’s in front of now. The first day he realized he wanted to impress you he spent hours in the cabin fresher, trying to even out his facial hair, and give himself something that resembled a respectable haircut. He needs another one soon, staring at himself now he knows he’ll need to shave before he sees you but he can probably go a few more weeks without a haircut. 
He’s pretty sure you like his hair long, even if you’ve never seen it, that’s the only reason he hasn’t just buzzed it all, the way he’d normally do it. You’re always touching it. 
So he cleans up his beard before stepping into the shower, he’s in a hurry, scrubbing away the days of travel and grime. He finds a clean flightsuit and dons his armor as quickly as possible, his hair is still wet when he puts the helmet back on. 
He makes a beeline towards the castle as the sun sets, the promise of you drives him forward despite his exhaustion. 
He checks the library first, finding the nook to be empty. He goes to your chambers, if his count is correct you would have had dinner with Kodo yesterday, so if you aren’t reading you should be in your room. He’s pleased to see a nervous looking Leo outside your door, his eyes go wide as Din approaches. 
He stops a few inches away from Leodall, looming over him. 
“Everything went smoothly?” His voice is low and husky. His professional voice. 
“Yes, of course.” He’s pretty sure Leo is too scared of him to lie so he gives him a curt nod of approval. 
“Then you’re dismissed, thank you.” He really is thankful, despite his dislike for the twi’lek. He watches him scurry away before hastily pushing your door open, stepping inside to find you there. 
You’re laying on your stomach, a book laid out on the bed in front of you. A look of anger crosses your face when you look up, assuming you’d find Leo in the doorway but once you see him you’re sitting up, rushing over to him and wrapping your arms around him. 
“I missed you.” You mumble against his chest plate as he returns your embrace.
“It was only a few days.” He laughs softly as you look up at him. He’s just happy to be with you again. 
“That doesn’t mean anything, I still missed you.” With the way you’re looking at him it’s a wonder he doesn’t get on one knee right now. 
Instead he can’t help it as he yawns, he’d been in such a rush to return to you he’d barely slept during his trip.
“Are you tired?” Your brows furrow in concern as he shakes his head no. 
“No, I’m fine, I’m just happy to see you.” He’s about to lift his helmet to kiss you, but you frown and pull him towards the closet. He isn’t entirely sure he’s going to be able to properly fuck you in this state but he’ll make it work. As you shut the door he starts taking off his armor and you turn to help him, carefully removing each piece until he’s in just his flight suit and helmet. You gently put your hands on his shoulders, pushing him down to the floor before kneeling beside him. He puts his hands on your waist and is a little surprised when you tenderly pull them away. 
“Lay on your stomach.” You tilt your head to the side and he’s about to argue but you click your tongue and point at the blankets. “I let you disappear for a few days with no questions, you owe me, now lay down. And take off your flight suit.” 
With a reluctant groan he does as he’s told, sliding his flight suit down to his waist, his confusion only growing as you straddle his back. His bewilderment vanishes though as he feels your hands kneading his shoulders. He’s about to flip himself over and tell you he’s fine but as he opens his mouth to complain you dig the heel of your palm into his back and instead a moan slips out. 
He doesn’t make much of a fuss after that, letting you methodically take care of the many knots and tense spots across his back. 
He turns his head to the side, closing his eyes as you hum a song to yourself, caressing and kneading every inch of visible skin until you’re satisfied. He feels you lean down, planting a kiss along his spine before climbing off of him and laying down beside him, he sits up with another rather embarrassing moan. He’s trying to flip you over to do you as you laugh, pulling him back down to lay with you. 
“You need sleep.” You once again catch him off guard as he feels your fingers on the helmet release, the kiss of air accompanied by the click of the lamp as you remove his helmet, kissing his forehead. 
“I missed you too.” He whispers into the darkness, realizing he hasn’t said it yet.
“I know you did, now get some sleep.” You pull his head down against your chest, squeezing his shoulder as you do. He really is exhausted, he hadn’t realized until he was reunited with you that he doesn’t sleep as well without you. 
“I love you.” He sleepily mumbles against your chest. 
No one takes care of him the way you do. Your soft hands continue to rub his back as he succumbs to sleep. 
“I love you too.” He feels another kiss on his forehead as he exhales the last of his energy. 
If he wasn’t so tired he probably would have proposed right then and there. 
Having the rings has made him a mess.
Anytime you do anything he just wants to ask. When you’d kissed him this morning, when you’d walked out of your room in a green dress grinning at him like you’d done it just for him, when you’d handed him the speeder maintenance book from before because you just knew he hadn’t read it last time. 
And right now, as you read like you always do, sitting beside him. 
Now more than ever he wants to ask. 
He had wanted so badly for it to be special. 
He was thinking of maybe doing it in the gardens some night, where he had kissed you for the first time. But you look exactly how he always wants you to look right now. 
Your face buried in a romance book with a smile dancing on your lips. 
Tucked away in the nook, safe from the world. 
“How much of the Mando’a book did you end up reading?” He plays with the edge of the page he’s on now, he’s been pretending to read again, unable to pull his focus from you. 
“The translation book? Not a lot.” He watches as you turn to give him a smile. 
“Do you know what riduur means?” He knows you don’t, but he can’t stop himself from saying it. 
“No, I don't think I learned that.” You close your book, staring at him curiously. 
“It means partner, or spouse.” 
“Oh. Okay…” Your eyes get a little bigger once he says that. 
He gives you a nod before looking back down at his own book, silently cursing himself out for not going through with it. He hadn’t realized that having rings made would make him fall apart every time he’s in your presence. 
You’re just so… perfect. Do you have to be so perfect? You learn his language and you respect him and you love him and you’re endlessly sweet. 
He just wants to keep you like this forever.
Safe and happy. 
That’s why he can’t help himself as he sets his book down, he fidgets with his helmet for a moment before turning off the modulator, he wants you to hear his voice without the filter, sitting up, he cradles your face in his hands. 
“Can I ask you something?” He whispers.  
I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!
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Note
Heyo! ( not me having to look up eastern time cause I'm not in that ) (((if I sent this at the wrong time just ignore I'm so sorry)))
Okie (also sorry if I don't format this completely correctly) May I request Sebek with the prompt rainy night? (Romantic please, and for emojis maybe 🍁✨️, and if possible fluff) and for backup characters ummm Vil with prompt 1 and Epel with prompt 7.
Gosh I hope I did that right. Anyways thank you Dove! I hope that you have a great rest of your day. Also, make sure to be taking breaks and time for yourself! 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖 Thank you! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
Rainy Night; Sebek Zigvolt
Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, established relationship
Word Count; 700+
Author's Note; No need to worry, everything looks great, Faye! I completely forgot about the emojis, but I tried my best to fit them in. Enjoy some Becky content! WOE, CROCODILE BE UPON THEE!
As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist
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So much for a perfect seaside getaway, but Sebek could not account for a freak storm, so the two of you were stuck inside for the night, and reservations at the restaurant were cancelled due to the downpour. So, he was in a bit of a sour mood, hanging above him much like the dark storm clouds in the sky. Yet you weren’t in such a dire mood, and that helped take his mind off of things… somewhat.
“Aren’t you upset that our reservation was cancelled,” he huffed, turning his glare to the storm outside which seemed to mock him, slapping large leaves against the glass, which was like the storm slapping him in the face. “You were looking forward to it more than me.”
You looked over your shoulder, taking in the rare sight of Sebek in comfy clothes. To be fair the only reason he was wearing the fluffy pyjama pants and a white tank top was because you had gifted them to him. Even though it was something as simple as sleep clothes, Sebek treasured them.
“We can always go another night, sweetie,” you hummed, “besides, I would rather eat your cooking any night.” 
Sebek grumbled but didn’t argue with you, knowing full well that you would just shower him with sweet yet incredibly embarrassing praise for what he deemed as mediocre cooking at best. To be fair, you did call him your ‘pookie-bear’ in front of Malleus and Lilia — yeah, he nearly died that day, and Silver brings it up every now and then. 
“Besides,” you blew off the dust from a book, “I would rather read with you!” 
So that’s what you were searching for? A book? Sebek raised an eyebrow. You would rather read a book with him? And Sebek felt his face heating up. The two of you had been together for quite some time now, but Sebek always went warm when you did something simple, small, yet sweet. Those would leave him more pink and more warm than any grand gesture, because they weren’t planned. They were just something you naturally did, and that flustered him like nothing else.
Sebek cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. “And what has caught your attention, love?” Even with his terms of endearment, he was formal, respectful.
You waddled over, and showed him the cover. “Crocodile Knight!” 
“A children’s picture book?” Sebek hadn’t seen that book since he was a kid, and it did bring back some fond memories for him, but he still wondered why you looked so excited.
“Mhm!” You plopped next to Sebek on the couch, worming yourself next to his side until you were practically trying to merge with him. “Plus you’re my knight, and a crocodile, seems fitting! So, can you read it to me? Pretty pleaseeeeeee? My big, strong, scaly, knight?”
Sebek felt himself grow warm in the face and knew his ears must have been glowing from your giggling. He knew that he should have saved showing you the itty bitty scales that he had until later, but you had insisted on seeing them. “I-I guess I can read you a bit,” he surrendered, knowing that you would win this one.
He started reading, his voice steady and strong, only wavering when he felt you shift beside him. But he stopped reading when he felt your head rest against his shoulder. Glancing at you from the corner of his eye, he made direct eye contact with you; you were looking at him and not the book.
“I thought you wanted me to read this to you,” Sebek restrained himself from letting his loud nature win, making his voice crack a bit. “But you’re looking at me instead of the book?!”
You sighed, and placed a kiss to his jaw, which made him get quiet real fast. “Because you’re my crocodile knight, my beautiful crocodile knight,” you murmured.
Sebek closed the book, putting a bookmark in place so the two of you could revisit it at a later time. There was no chance that he could focus on reading when you were looking at him with hearts in your eyes.
So, instead, the two of you got into a comfortable cuddling position, got cozy under some blankets, and fell asleep in each other’s arms with the sound of rain and thunder aiding you to sleep.
~~~~~~~~
Tags; @xxoomiii @twistwonderlanddevotee @savanaclaw1996 @ryker-writes [come get ur mans]
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typecastwritesssss · 8 months
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okay but like the wind waker man. that intro. so many questions. we all know ocarina is dark but man wind waker just straight up said "and then they all drowned and the gods never came to help" hello??? how many years. how many decades. how much time did the adult hero of time buy for them? which child of zelda’s was daphnes? her son? grandchild? great-grandchild? when he stared at the rising waters and realized nothing was going to save them, his kingdom, did he think it was retribution for all the war? 
has it really been all that long? yes and also no. the lines are so blurred. the zora are birds and the kokiri are koroks and they had time to Get That Way but everywhere you look the old Hyrule, the Hero of Time himself, they're both all over the place. the deku tree is implied to be the sprout from the adult timeline but honestly who knows. the golden goddesses are statues on islands somewhere and there was a tower built to test who came after but…who and how and why? what was the tower of the gods even for? how did they know they’d need it? at what point did they accept the hero of time was never coming back so they’d probably need to train a new one? 
and oh my god, that outset island tradition. “dress your kids in green and give ‘em a sword and pray to the gods they’ll have the courage to cast down evil.” link rolls his eyes at it but he wears them to appease grandma. the revered clothes of the hero have had time to pass into “stupid traditional getup” territory. how many “failed Links” were there before Aryll’s brother? what evil could those children have possibly stricken down? the monsters in the woods?
“what became of that kingdom? none remain who know” like goddamn. say what you want about the hero’s shade in twilight princess. but at least the traumatized ghost got to meet one of his descendants and pass on his songs and his knowledge, even if that knowledge was only of war and death and combat. in the wind waker he’s a statue. an element of a legend mentioned once or twice by the last remaining holdouts of the past—holdouts who so badly want him to return, view him as the solution over all else, that they never pause to consider any other option. there are stained glass windows of the seven sages in the master sword’s chamber that are never mentioned. there is so much that is never mentioned.
nobody knows what the fuck anybody is talking about. link doesn’t know old hylian. tetra is running around the high seas (as a pirate. she and her retainers are now pirates. how did things get that way) with a piece of the damn triforce around her neck and she doesn’t know who ‘princess zelda’ even is. the juxtaposition between ganondorf, older and tired and wiser but still hell-bent on ruling hyrule even if it is a dead land full of nothing and no one, and tetra, a zelda that knows nothing, asking why he’s laughing and calling him insane. because hyrule’s dead. she has no frame of reference for his longing, or what he found so great about this sunken kingdom.
and this is framed as a good thing. the king of red lions thinks it’s better not to let either of the kids in on the loop until tetra nearly dies for lack of knowledge. daphnes nolhansen hyrule brought “the hero” back just to end ganon, and hyrule with him. was the plan always to let the sea fall in on him? maybe. i don’t know. but he rejects zelda’s plea with him to take him with them to the land that will be the new hyrule, because “it will not be hyrule. it will be your land” and that still gets me. he thinks the best thing to do with his kingdom, Hyrule, the kingdom of a whole hell of a lot of irl people’s childhoods, is for it to wash away. he wants the kids to live for the future and they do and they will and they name it hyrule anyway in his honor but he never gets to see it.
anyways i’m still mad everybody got butthurt over “trains in a zelda game” like come on now
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lilyginnyblackv2 · 1 year
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Rei saw right through him:
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Kazuki: “[...] and make it clear to everyone whose daughter is the best!” - He is talking about the lunch he made Miri (her bento). 
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Rei: “You’re trying to get back on her good side.”
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Kazuki looking shocked with his hands on his chest, looking like he has been shot.
Rei got a  🎯. And this is such a great scene of growth for both of them. With Kazuki, he has always been able to read Rei. He did as much in Episode One when Rei is sulking about the cat:
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He’s good at understanding people and emotions, Rei isn’t. So Rei being able to read Kazuki in the above scene in Episode 6 says a lot about how he is growing on an emotional level. Emotional intelligence is a thing and something that can be learned. Rei never really learned it as a child because of his father and general upbringing, but because of Miri and because he is now a member of an actual family he is learning. 
As for Kazuki, back in Episode 4, on Miri’s first day of daycare, he brought a bento too. 
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It was huge. It had three levels to it and Kazuki tries to be all, “Aw, there’s nothing special about this!” but the whole episode was about him trying to show off, rather than just be normal and authentic and nothing special.
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The bento that Kazuki makes for Miri in this week’s episode (Episode 6) it is far less (only one level of food) and has a lot of quick and simple foods (wieners, fried chicken, beans), but there is still some craftsmanship put into this bento as well (the eggs making hearts and the panda onigiri). It feels much more authentic and from the heart, and more an appeal to Miri (which it is meant to be) rather than a one-up on the other moms at the daycare (like his Episode 4 bento was meant to be - the kids would go home, tell their moms about Miri’s bento, and impress them - that was what he intended). 
Mom’s one-upping each other through bento is an actual, legitimate problem, which is probably one of the reasons Miri’s daycare does a school lunch (with the exception of something like this, a field trip). There is a good article on this on NPR (I’ll link it below), here is an excerpt (kyara-ben is the name for the kind of bento Kazuki made above) :
The moms in Maruo's class say they don't do it every day, but on mornings they make kyaraben, they block out as much as 90 minutes to make lunch. And not every Japanese parent wants to do this — but the cultural pressure is high, because it's hard to be the parent whose kid has a lame lunch.
"I think it's oppressive," says Margarita Estevez-Abe, a political science professor at Syracuse University, who specializes in gender issues in Japan.
"In a sense, they have a lot of time on their hands and they are just putting their effort and time into creating and competing over who makes the best character bento box," Estevez-Abe says.
So yeah, it’s nice to know that Kazuki has grown a bit and that he is doing stuff more for Miri, rather for himself, though he still has to work a bit on making assumption. Of course, both Kazuki and Rei having their own flaws are important too and those flaws tend to play off each other nicely, while being fairly realistic (a little exaggeration here and there for comedy).
It’s also nice to see that, while Rei has grown a lot emotionally, he still does some things his own way. Take, for instance, the scene where the bus leaves for the field trip.
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Many of the other moms are waving their kid good-bye, but Rei doesn’t. He also stands apart from them, because he seems to not really like being in large crowds. But that is shown as being perfectly fine here. None of the moms are judging him here (some are also not waving) and he just continues to do his own thing. And Miri likely knows that.
Anyway, I love how, with each episode, we see more and more growth with all of the characters (Miri included!) and how these three feel more and more like a family. I know that was one of the focuses of the series (”to become a family through raising a child”), and I think the series is really succeeding at this! 
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furbygoblinxiv · 11 months
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Ok now to be annoying about a completely different flavor of Zelda: That cartoon from the 80s that has aged so poorly I take psychic damage every time I watch it (which has been multiple times (I have problems)). A few months ago when rewatching and being sick of the Link's personality from the show (his best feature is how funny the "Well excuuuuse me, princess" line is) I was like "I wish the quiet kid from the games/art was here instead" and accidentally thought too hard and made an au/rewrite of the cartoon lmao.
Anyways Zelda cartoon au where cryptid boy Link saves the post apocalyptic Hyrule of loz 1 and chills in the castle with cartoon Zelda to defend the triforce pieces that they have while trying to find the last piece before Ganon can find it, stumbling across the sleeping loz 2 Zelda along the way lol. Hijinks ensue as he teaches Zelda the brawns to back up her girlboss and he gets an adventure buddy because its dangerous to go alone and Zelda with her boomerang and crossbow goes hard. I think a monster of the week style plot works for the earlier Zelda games, but an overarching plot could coexist with that since that is kinda how games work lol.
As per usual here are a bunch of slapdash barely related sketches of my ideas with my expanded thoughts below bc I think it'd be fun to share:
I look at the official art of Link being a quiet determined little dude with a backpack of tools and wish that that was represented more. Like look at him! What a guy! Imagine giving a quiet puzzle solving 14 year old a sword, lethal magical weapons, and a wasteland to explore! I would love a show about that! In terms of other characters, swap out that annoying fairy character, put in a Navi clone, at least Navi didn't have a crush on Link🤮. Ganon can stay the same so long as he was always a demon pig and was never a Gerudo man because unlike Nintendo, I do not want to imply that the only prominent man of color in the series has only one big braincell thats just screaming "EVIL" on loop. But! Keep Zelda the same, I love her so much in the cartoon, she's obnoxious in a slay girlboss way, maximum vibes. By virtue of not having a paper thin plot, most other characters that were fine get fixed by proxy.
I think plot wise? It takes place a few years after the first game. Initially, Link saved the royal family and they started rebuilding that area of Hyrule, and Link traveled around to help people. One day, Ganon's minions start making attacks on the castle to steal the triforce pieces back to revive him fully, and a Zelda who greatly admires Links steps up to defend the place. Eventually, Zelda requests Link return to help defend the castle while they search for the mysterious hidden third triforce piece in order to combine the full thing and wish for peace in Hyrule. Link agrees and the hyjinks begin.
IIRC the og Link backstory was that he was the son of the hyrulean queen and the elf king or smth? In the manga? I didn't want him to be hylian royalty but I wanted to keep that cryptid vibe, hence why I have him related instead to the great fairy and the kokiri. He just leaves the forest/cave one day with literally nothing to go save Hyrule, what a chad. I think it'd be funny if people describe Zelda as feral due to how boisterous and headstrong she is, especially out on the field, but Link is the quiet version of wild that you don't notice at first. She is openly intelligent and snarky in comparison to "says 3 lines a day, bombs first and asks questions later, explore under every rock and bush" forest kid Link.
It would be fun though if "rushes into danger" Zelda resonated more with the triforce of power and "solves dungeon puzzles for funsies" Link with the triforce of wisdom, then they both resonated with the triforce of courage upon finding it. idk tho lol
I also think two different young Zeldas coexisting with each other after one awoke from a cursed slumber would be really funny. Like that's gotta be so awkward, especially if one has the fighter girlboss slay up to 11 and the other just woke up from a coma to her family gone and her kingdom destroyed and just kinda wants to read books and drink tea in peace. Imagine being the same age or older than your great (great?) aunt. Or imagine if the old lady Impa nursemaid to Zelda 1 Zelda was the young Impa nursemaid to the Zelda 2 Zelda. Wild.
If I wasn't incapable of remembering to finish writing wips I'd write that series lol. Alas, this is all I can pull for now.
I'd love to call this propaganda to go watch the show but maybe don't because its yikes. This is moreso propaganda for someone to make a Zelda cartoon show instead of the movie that I sense Nintendo is plotting to make. Also, if you've read this far, I should mention I also will probably be posting art from some of my actual long term Zelda aus beyond just expanding on the cartoon, though I may continue to do that if my train of thought continues on these tracks.
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elizabethwritesmen · 5 months
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𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜
chapter 2 : poconos
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pairing: firefighter!steve harrington x reader
summary: steve comes over to help y/n put up halloween decorations, and old feelings start to resurface.
warnings: smut to come. angst and fluff.
a/n: still no mention of christmas but i promise it’s coming! this one is more halloween themed. slow burn, like always. make sure to read chapter 1 first! link below!
chapter 1 | chapter 3 | chapter 4
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The job search over the next few days was brutal. I was exhausted from all the “I don’t think you’re the right fit,” and the “We don’t hire right before the Holidays.” Not to mention the “We just don’t need you right now.” Everything changed, though, in late September.
I was at the music shop, whining to Robin about my fruitless venture to end my unemployment. She was trying to pay attention to me and do her end-of-day inventory at the same time, curled up in the recliner she had in the back room. It was more like a studio apartment than a staff area. It had a pullout couch, two comfy recliners, a bean bag chair, a TV, a tiny kitchenette and a bathroom.
“Why don’t you just come work here?” She asked me, glancing up from her paperwork.
“Here? Like at the music shop?”
“No, in the parking lot directing traffic.” Her sarcasm dripped from her, and I couldn’t see her roll her eyes but I was sure she did.
“Well… do you even need anyone? I know having friends work together can cause problems, too. I don’t want to make things weird.”
“Y/N, you’re like, my oldest friend and we’ve never even argued. I’m not gonna be a hard ass or anything, so there won’t be any opening for conflict. Come in late, I don’t care. Wear what you want. Honestly I don’t care if you show up at all, so come all day every day or a couple days a week. You can do customer work while I do paperwork and I’ll pay you 15 an hour for whatever you work. I’ve been needing to hire someone, I just don’t have the time to get everything done anymore without staying super late.”
“You’re really ok with that?” I asked skeptically, and she stared up at me, annoyance on her face.
“Yes, stupid. Or I wouldn’t have offered. You’re here every day anyway, you might as well help. Plus you’re my best friend, I would love to work with you!”
“Okay, when do I start?”
“Tomorrow if you want.”
“That sounds great!”
And just like that, I had a job. It paid well, considering I was living in an inherited house and my car was paid off. Plus, it was so lax. When Robin said she didn’t care, she wasn’t kidding. We were basically just hanging out all day, it wasn’t hardcore like any job I’d worked before, and we were more like partners than employer and employee.
Only a few days passed before I saw Steve again, the front door bell jingling to signal his entrance. I looked up and the first thing I saw was his hair.
“You working here now?” he asked, eyeing the way my hips were situated in a stool behind the counter. I nodded.
“Robin took pity on me and gave me a job,” I shrugged.
“Naturally,” he grinned lightly, the polite kind you give to someone you don’t know anymore.
“How are you?” I asked, desperate to fill the silent void between us that had never been there before.
“I’m okay, just tired. Thought I’d stop by and annoy Robin for a few minutes before my next call.”
“Busy day?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
The silence stretched on again, and I couldn’t think up a Titanic to break the ice. Thankfully, he did it for me.
“How’s the cat?”
“Great!” I grinned all toothy and big, pulling out my phone and showing him recent pictures.
“Oh, he’s gotten so big. What’d you name him?”
“Poconos.”
At that, he faltered, his jaw opening slightly as he stared at me. He was speechless for a few seconds, and I watched as he regained his composure. “Oh.”
“I figured, you know, it fit since you’re the one who gave him to me.”
He just looked at me. Really looked at me for the first time since I’d seen him again. He had the same look in his eye that he did when we were teenagers, and seeing it was like a breath of spring.
“I should stop by and see him one day,” he casually stated as if it were nothing, “Just in case he misses me.”
“You know, he actually did tell me that he misses you, now that you mention it.”
“Is that so? Well then I’d better stop by soon, I hate to keep him waiting. How’s tonight? On my way home from work?”
“Tonight is perfect.”
“Great,” he was smiling. Like a real smile, wide and bright, filling up the room with energy so positive and radiant I could get a tan from it. I returned it tenfold, and we stared at each other like that until Robin walked in from the back room and interrupted us.
“Are those smiles I see?” she asked, feigning shock as we rolled our eyes. “I never thought I’d see Steve smile that big again. Guess it’s the Y/N effect.”
“Shut up, Robin,” he sighed, an edge in his voice like she said something she wasn’t supposed to.
“Hey! I’m just glad you’ve forgiven her!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air defensively, “Did she tell you about tonight?” I frowned, slightly confused, and so did Steve. “Seriously? You don’t remember?”
“I guess not,” I shrugged.
“We’re putting up all your Halloween decorations. We planned this like, forever ago!”
“Oh shit,” my eyes widened, “I forgot that was tonight.”
I turned to Steve apologetically. More so for myself than him, I was looking forward to him coming to see the cat. He just grinned, “Well since I’ll be there tonight anyway, I might as well help you with it.”
“Really?” I raised a brow. He nodded.
“Great!” Robin clapped, pulling out her phone, “I’ll let Eddie know to come over too. Is he off tonight?”
“He should be, but I don’t know whether he has Candy tonight or not.”
“Candy?” I inquired, “Why would he need candy?”
Steve and Robin shared a look and chuckled, explaining to me, “Candy is Eddie’s 6 year old.”
“Eddie has a 6 year old?”
“Yeah, he knocked some groupie he met at a concert up a few months after you left. He didn’t even know until he opened his front door nine months later and saw a car seat there with Candy inside it.”
“So the mom just left her there?”
“Yeah, with her birth certificate and social and everything. All he knew about her was that her name was Candy Priscilla and she was definitely his. So he got custody and he’s been raising her since.”
“Candy Priscilla?” I furrowed my brows comically, “He never thought to change that name?” I didn’t mean to be mean but… whew. I’d never heard that one before.
“Well at first, he had too much on his plate. And eventually it just grew on him,” Robin shrugged.
“Well,” I hummed, “She can come too. I’m sure she’d love to help, and I bet she’s cute as a button.”
“Okay. I’ll go call him and ask.”
She walked away, leaving Steve and I alone again.
“So…” I drawled, “Guess tonight turned into a group thing.”
“Just like old times,” he mused.
“I’m glad you’re still coming over.”
“I wouldn’t miss a chance to watch you almost fall off a ladder trying to hang fake spider webs.”
I rolled my eyes, defending myself, “I would NOT almost fall! I’m so coordinated!”
“Y/N, I’m the one who brought you to the hospital when you slipped and broke your foot. Do you really wanna have this argument with me?”
With a huff and an eyeroll, I mumbled, “Fine. Whatever. Either way, I’m glad you’re coming.”
“Me too,” he sighed, almost sounding relieved. “I gotta get back to work but I’ll see you and Poconos later.”
“Can’t wait,” I grinned shyly as he left.
Robin came over directly after work and brought a change of clothes to spend the night. The idea was that we’d decorate then watch scary movies to get in the Halloween spirit until we fell asleep. Now, though, the boys had thrown a wrench in our plans.
Soon after we got there, Eddie showed up and helped us drag all the boxes of decor out of the basement and attic. He had his little girl with him, and she was the spitting image of him, curls falling over her little head and bouncing everywhere as she ran. She was wearing a little Metallica T shirt and a pair of red leggings, with some tennis shoes adorning her busy feet.
“She’s perfect, Eddie,” I smiled, glancing at her. He beamed proudly.
“She’s the best,” he hummed, and I could almost see his heart overflowing with happiness. “Candy, come here!”
She raced over to us, her face flush from activity, “What’s wrong, daddy?”
“This is Y/N. Me and Aunt Robin are helping her put up her Halloween stuff, you wanna help too?”
“Yeah!” she squealed excitedly, her huge smile showing off her missing front teeth. She skipped to me, reaching up for me to hold her and I obliged, “You’re pretty. I didn’t know daddy had a friend as pretty as you.”
“No, you’re pretty,” I poked her nose and she giggled. “What decorations do you want to be in charge of, Candy girl? We’ve got fake spider webs, skeletons, and some inflatables.”
“Me and Daddy will do the skeletons,” she told me and I pointed them in the direction of the box.
“I’ll do the inflatables, you take the spider webs,” Robin stated, “Steve can help you when he gets here.”
“But won’t you need help?”
“All I’m doing is dragging them out into the yard and using your grandpa’s blower machine thing to blow them up.”
“Well they’re still heavy. Steve can help you and I can hang the webs alone.”
“Dear God, Y/N, you’re so dense. This is my way of forcing you and Steve to spend time together, so just go with it!”
“Robin!” I screeched, “You’re awful!”
“I just want you to be boyyyyfriendddd and girllllfriendddd again!”
“We were never boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“Just because you didn’t admit it doesn’t mean you weren’t.”
With that she flipped her hair and walked away from me, beginning her work. I rolled my eyes, dragging out the boxes of webs and fake spiders, and deciding where on the house they would look best.
About a half an hour passed before I heard tires heavy on gravel and a big black truck pulled into my driveway. Steve stepped out of it, still wearing his work clothes but he looked so handsome in them I could hardly complain. Once he caught sight of me, he smiled, then dropped his tailgate, pulling out two huge spotlights. They looked heavy so I jogged over to help him.
“What’re these for?” I asked as we set them on the ground on each side of the house.
“It’s gonna be dark tonight, so I borrowed these from work.”
“Oh, thank you. These will help a lot!” I grinned, hooking them up to one of the many extension cords I was using and watching as they lit up the cabin and yard.
Just then, Candy came sprinting over. “Uncle Steve!” she squealed, her hair falling all over the place and her arms outstretched for him to pick her up. He did, spinning her around and laughing.
“Hey, shorty,” he cooed, and I couldn’t help the way my tummy fluttered. He was still as good with kids as ever.
“Have you met daddy’s new friend?” She asked him, “She’s really pretty. Don’t you think she’s so pretty?”
He smirked, whispering something in her ear and she gasped, shouting, “Y/N, he said you’re the prettiest girl in the whole world!!!”
I raised a brow, “Is that so?”
“Yes, but he told me not to tell you,” she sheepishly added, “Sorry Uncle Steve.”
“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that,” he gave his best evil laugh as he tickled her into a fit of shrill giggles, and I couldn’t help but giggle along.
“Okay, okay, break it up,” Eddie intervened jokingly, “You’re making an old man jealous. My own kid likes you more than me.”
“Of course she does, I’m the best!” Steve winked.
“The best at being the worst.”
I rolled my eyes at their banter. Some things never changed.
“You losers gonna keep chatting or get to work?” Robin shouted from the other side of the yard, and we heeded her words. Eddie and Candy went to work on skeleton duty and Steve followed me to the boxes of webs and such.
“Maybe I will get to see you fall,” he smirked as he did his best to organize the pile and set up the ladder.
“No chance in hell,” I rolled my eyes, stepping onto the rungs one by one. I swayed a little and he placed his warm hand on my back.
“Would you rather me hang them and you hand them to me?”
“No, you’ll do it wrong.”
“I would rather do it wrong than take you to the ER for a broken bone.”
“You’re not doing either.”
I got a few hung up and grinned victoriously, starting to climb down the ladder but I slipped, gasping. Steve caught me easily, setting me gently on the ground.
“Careful, sweetheart,” he whispered, his mouth right against my ear, his words casting warm breath over my skin and littering me with goosebumps. He was solid behind me, his hands tight on my waist. His chin was resting against the side of my head, and neither of us made any moves to pull away. Instead, I turned my head to the side, staring up at him.
The moment was intense. I could feel my pulse racing and I was sure he could, too.
“You can do the rest,” I quietly offered, and he smiled, nice and slow.
“Smart girl.”
I shivered at those words. I could tell he felt it by the way his eyes slightly widened, taking every reaction to heart, and he pulled me closer to him by my hips. We were only interrupted by Candy’s little voice.
“Y/N, daddy told me to ask you for super glue.”
I snapped out of my trance, staring at her dumbly. Steve rescued me, stating, “I’ll take her to get it.”
“You remember where it is?” I asked.
“I told you, I remember everything.”
He walked inside with her, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I could still feel him. He was so close I could’ve kissed him. If I could count every time Steve got just close enough to kiss me but never did… No wonder I left all those years before. It was pure torture, having what you want and need right in front of you and not being able to take it. I shuddered to think that all my feelings were flooding back. My sad desperation seeping into my bones like a cancer, sealing my fate, except this time I had nowhere to go.
I sighed, moving the ladder and boxes to the other side of the house just in time for him to return.
“You didn’t have to move all this, I had it!” he pouted.
“I wanted to. Besides, you were on an important super glue mission.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t have left you here alone but that was life or death.”
“I could tell. I’m impressed you were able to get the job done by yourself.”
He laughed at that, the real kind of laugh that he used to give me before I left. I hadn’t seen it in so long, it made my heart swell.
“I almost forgot how funny you are, Y/N/N.”
I flushed. He hadn’t called me that since…. Well, also before I left. It was a silly nickname, really. A play on my name that I would only ever let him get away with. Not that anyone else would ever use it anyway. Steve would’ve given them an earful and made them apologize for stealing his favorite girl’s best nickname. He was possessive like that, but in a friendly kind of way.
“I don’t know how you could forget, I’m basically a comedian, Stevia.”
He had about the same reaction to his nickname as I’d had to mine. I’d always called him Stevia, because he wasn’t sweet enough to be real sugar and wasn’t cool enough to be Splenda. It was a joke, of course, but it stuck, especially when I wanted to get on his nerves.
“We should probably get to hanging these,” he took a deep breath, changing the subject. I nodded, taking over the job of handing him what he needed while he climbed on the ladder. Anytime he placed something slightly off from where I wanted it, I let him know swiftly and he rolled his eyes and groaned before moving it. I could tell he was annoyed with me, but not really annoyed. Just the I-can’t-wait-to-be-done-with-this annoyed. And after about an hour, he got his wish, so we went around helping everyone else finish up. Around 9, everything looked perfect, and I clapped with joy.
“Thanks SO much guys! It’s perfect!!” I squealed, bouncing on my toes, excitement overwhelming me.
“We aim to please,” Eddie shrugged.
“Now movies?!” Robin suggested, and all of us nodded but Eddie.
“I wish we could stay, but one of Candy’s friends has a birthday party in the morning and if I don’t get her to bed soon, she’ll be impossible to wake up.”
“Please, daddy?” Candy stuck out her bottom lip, letting it tremble slightly for dramatic effect.
“Another night. I promise.”
“Okay,” she sighed, dejected. She gave Steve and Robin both big hugs, then came to me and reached her arms up. I was slightly surprised, but welcomed her in, and she mumbled, “I’m gonna miss you. I want you to marry Uncle Steve so I can see you all the time.”
I blushed from head to toe, and Eddie snorted. I was too scared to glance at Steve, but I had a feeling he was blushing too.
“That’s enough, Candy. We can see her all the time anyway, even if she doesn’t marry Steve,” Eddie grabbed her from me, “But it would be cool if she did.”
I glared daggers at him as he said his goodbyes and left.
“I see nothing has changed,” Steve commented, glancing at his feet briefly.
“Nothing ever does,” I shrugged, walking past him and through the front door. He unplugged the spotlights then walked in behind me. Robin followed, dragging in all the boxes and putting them back in the basement.
“What movie do you guys wanna start with?” I asked, scrolling through the Halloween section on the TV.
“Something extra scary,” Robin requested and I nodded, handing her the remote.
“You pick it, then.”
“Oh, I have the perfect thing,” And with a smirk on her face, she chose Texas Chainsaw Massacre, the one movie I could never make it all the way through.
“Rob,” I huffed.
“What? It’s fine!”
“Robin,” Steve snapped, his voice low, “Pick something else.”
“Why?”
“You know Y/N doesn’t like this movie.”
“What are you, her body guard? She’ll be fine. It’s just a silly movie. And we’re grown now! She can handle it.”
“Robin.” His voice was even lower as he glared her way.
“It’s fine, Steve. She’s right, I can handle it.”
She put the movie on and I curled up on the opposite side of the couch from Steve as she did the same in the recliner across the room. I sighed heavily as the movie began to play.
I made it a few minutes in before the killing started, and I instantly regretted it. Every time there was a nasty or scary scene, I could feel Steve’s eyes on me, watching me cringe and flinch. Eventually, he moved to my side, pulling the blanket off the back of the couch and covering us up with it, his arm around me, pulling me in tight. I couldn’t believe I was that close to him, my heart was beating out of my chest.
“It’s okay. It’s just a movie.”
Just then, Poconos came out of nowhere and jumped on our laps, wiggling his still small kitten butt. I let out a snort, petting him lightly.
“Wow, he’s gotten bigger,” Steve mumbled low enough not to disturb Robin.
“He has. He’ll be full grown soon I think.”
“Still, he’s just a baby.”
We were interrupted by a flash coming from Robin’s phone. She took a picture of us.
“Sorry, you guys are just too cute,” she laughed, putting her phone away. We rolled our eyes, focusing back in on the movie, and I hardly noticed how his thumb traced little circles on my shoulder. Hardly.
Once it got to the scene where a guy gets sawed in half hot-dog style, I groaned and turned to Steve, hiding in his shirt like I always had.
“I remember this being the part where you’d always leave the room.”
“And you’d always follow me.”
“Yeah, I’ve never actually seen the end of the movie,” he chuckled, the sound vibrating my head where he rested his chin. The hand that was on my shoulder found it’s way to stroke my hair, comforting me through the most traumatic scene of all time.
“You never watched it without me?”
“Well if you weren’t gonna see how it ended, it didn’t feel right for me to.”
“Steve,” I sighed, gazing up at him. I could see the dim TV light playing off his features, highlighting them beautifully. He was everything.
He looked down at me as well, and our eyes locked. That had been happening a lot. I winced at how easy it would be to just lean up and kiss him. How perfect it would be. And when he started to lean it, I thought for a moment it might happen. He was so close, his lips almost on mine, I could feel my world slowly collapsing. Then he leaned down to whisper in my ear instead, “The scene is over, it’s safe to look at the screen now.” Shit. He had to know what he was doing to me.
I turned away from, doing as he said, trying to focus on the movie but it was hard. His free hand, the one that wasn’t in my hair, started at the top of my arm and slid it down slowly and gently to my wrist, then found my own, playing around with it for a second before simply holding it. His grip was warm as he squeezed, and I squeezed back, taking a deep breath as my heart swelled again.
The rest of the movie felt like it went on forever, but it finally ended and Robin yawned loudly.
“I’m gonna go to bed,” she announced, grabbing her bag and making her way to the guest room.
“I thought you wanted to watch another movie?” I called to her.
“Not anymore, I’m beat. But you two should!”
The room was silent for a moment. Steve’s hand was still holding mine, but his other hand had moved down to my back, his grip firm.
“You probably have to go soon, huh? It’s pretty late,” I mumbled, unable to keep the disappointment out of my voice.
“I can stay as late as you want me to. I’d rather be here than go home to an empty house.”
“Yeah, at least here you have a cute cat to snuggle with,” I grinned, calling Poconos over and watching as he jumped onto our laps again.
“I think he might be the best cat ever, I can’t believe I gave him up.”
“Yeah, that was pretty stupid of you.”
“Hey now, I gave a cute cat to a pretty girl. I’m a hero.”
“You really think I’m pretty?”
He furrowed his brows at me, “Didn’t you hear what I told Candy? Prettiest girl in the world, hands down.”
“What about Angelina Jolie? Megan Fox? Scarlett Johannson?”
“None of them hold a candle to you,” he shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Why didn’t you think I was pretty in high school?”
“I did, but I was terrified to tell you. The kids used to pick on me for it all the time, especially Max.”
“She used to pick on me, too. She thought I had a crush on you.”
“Well, you did. Didn’t you?” he asked, and I paused, panicking slightly as I stared at him. “That was our thing. We liked eachother more than we should’ve. That’s what made us such good friends.”
“You say that like you had a crush on me, too,” I rolled my eyes.
“I did!”
“Whatever.”
“Really, I did. Swear. Why do you think I tried so hard to make out with you the night after you graduated?”
“No you didn’t! You totally pulled away from me!”
“Because I was nervous and I psyched myself out!”
I huffed, bumping his arm lightly, “Well that was stupid of you.”
“Would you have left if I had kissed you?”
The mood changed. Suddenly, it was much more serious, tension flowing in the air between us.
“No,” I told him honestly.
“Everyone told me I was the reason you left. That’s why I was so angry when you came back, I couldn’t understand why. I still don’t understand why.”
“Some things don’t need to be understood. I’m back now, and it was a mistake.”
“Yeah, and we’re just going back to the way we were like no time has passed. I don’t understand this, Y/N. Not at all. I’ve spent 7 years wondering what I could’ve done to make you stay. Wondering why you didn’t want to stay. Wondering if I did something to hurt you. To make you wanna get away from me.”
“You didn’t.”
“Then what was it?”
I stared at my lap, unsure how to proceed with the conversation. I couldn’t believe he hadn’t figured it out yet, but I was counting my blessings.
“Forget it,” he sighed, “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just watch another movie.”
“You wanna stay?” I stared hopefully up at him, my eyes glassy and wide, “Even after we argued?”
“Of course I wanna stay. You’re my best friend.”
“You still think of me as your best friend?”
“I never stopped,” he smiled, tapping my nose, “Besides, I knew you’d come back. Nobody can resist the Harrington charm for long.”
I rolled my eyes, handing him the remote, “Just pick a movie, stupid.”
He grabbed it from me and began scrolling, settling on some B movie about a slasher. We settled in, getting comfy with each other again as we watched. Halfway through, though, I felt myself starting to doze off.
When I woke up, I was in Steve’s arms being carried through the hallway to the master bedroom. I furrowed my brows for a second, “Steve? What’re you doing?”
“You fell asleep, I’m taking you to bed.”
“But I wanna stay up longer with you.”
“I know, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I’ll come see you at the music shop then we can do something when you get off if you want to.”
“Of course I want to,” I smiled, pulling myself closer to his chest and snuggling into his warmth. A second layer, we were in my room and he laid me down gently, kissing my forehead.
“Sleep tight, Y/N/N.”
And with that, he was gone. I could faintly hear his tires as he pulled out of the long driveway.
Three months before graduation
It was far from the first time Steve had parked down the road from my parents’ house and waited for me so we could sneak out to the cabin. It was easy, really. His parents didn’t give a damn what he did and mine never really noticed me missing.
I climbed out my window, hopping onto the ground gracelessly and setting off for his car. It was quicker to go through the treeline in my neighbor’s back yard than to walk on the street, so that’s what I did. There was also no chance of anyone seeing me that way.
Steve was standing by the passenger door when I walked up, smile engraved on his pretty face.
“It’s about time, I was starting to worry about you,” he stated as he opened the door for me, making sure I was completely in before shutting it behind me. He climbed in on his side, pulling off quietly.
“I’ve walked that path about a million times, Steve. I’m perfectly safe. Besides, even if I got kidnapped it would be worth it for the chance to do this with you.”
“You’re too sweet,” he smirked, giving my thigh one gentle squeeze then returning his hand to his own lap.
The ride felt shorter than it was, I suppose the company helped with that. There was never a lull with Steve, he just talked and you always wanted to hear what he had to say. Plus, his hair captivated attention on its own. Finally, we pulled into the rough driveway and he parked.
“It’s a shame it’s too cold to swim,” I sighed, staring off at the water before me.
“It’s fine, I’m in more of a bonfire mood tonight anyways.”
He lead me gently with a hand on my back to the fire pit. I always loved that part of the yard, fairy lights were strung up over it and there was an assortment of patio and folding chairs around it, along with a picnic table beside it.
He set to work on getting the fire going, adding logs, sticks and kindling. Fortunately, the only time my parents used the cabin was to have a fire when it was really cold, so supplies were always stocked up in a little shed beside the place. I shivered as I waited for him to get it going and he turned to me, concern showing on his face. “Here,” he pulled off his jacket and handed it to me.
“I can’t take this, you’ll be cold.”
“I’m working up a sweat carrying these logs, I’ll be fine. Plus, the fire will be going soon. And I’d rather be cold than you be cold.”
“Fine, whatever, sacrifice yourself and your warmth,” I shrugged, yanking the item from him and slipping into it, breathing a sigh of relief. It was so warm from the body heat he’d been cultivating, and it smelled of his cologne.
“You look cute like that,” he smirked, sparing me a glance. I gave him a once over as he continued working on the fire.
“So do you.”
I could see a slight blush on his cheeks in the glow of the flames he’d finally created. Soon, it went from flames to fire, and he pulled a folding chair right next to mine, so close we were almost touching. Almost wasn’t good enough for either of us though, so we reached for each other, clasping hands like we needed each other to breathe. It was always like that. We always needed each other, more than anyone else.
“You sure you don’t want your jacket back?” I asked him, but he shook his head.
“I already told you no.”
I smiled lightly, turning back to the fire. We sat in comfortable silence for a while before he broke it, saying, “I can’t believe your graduating so soon. I’m so proud of you.”
“Do you think we’ll still do things like this after I graduate?”
“I think we’ll still do things like this when we’re in our 30s and you’re married. You’ll be sneaking out of your husband’s bed just to meet me here, at our spot.”
“What about you? No wife?”
“Absolutely not. I don’t need someone telling me all the reasons I shouldn’t be friends with you.”
“You’re silly,” I giggled, “You always have new girlfriends. Surely you’ll get married in a couple years, have a few babies. The real American dream.”
“You’re right, I do always have new girlfriends, and they never like you. Why do you think I don’t keep them?”
“If you found a girl you really just couldn’t live without, you’d have to cut me off, and that would be okay because she would be worth it.”
“I already found a girl I really just couldn’t live without.”
I glanced over at him to see he was already looking at me, his eyes heavy, shining in the orange light.
“You could find a way,” I insisted, tugging on my hand lightly until he let it go then folding it in my lap. I wanted the distance. I wanted this conversation to hurt less, and I thought letting him go would be the way.
“Let’s go on a trip,” he suddenly changed the subject.
“What?”
“A trip. Let’s go on one, after your graduation. Just for a weekend or something. We can get a cheap motel room and eat trashy food and see whatever we wanna see. Just me and you.”
“What about Robin and Eddie?”
“They can come, if they really want, but I am not rooming with him so I hope she’ll be willing to.”
“Well where are we going?”
“Anywhere you want.”
“No, it’s your idea. You pick.”
“I always wanted to go to the Poconos.”
“Why the Poconos? Isn’t that mountains or something.”
“Yeah, I think so. I don’t know much about it but I like the name. Poconos. Poke-a-nose. I think it’d be funny to see how many times I could poke your nose in the Poconos.”
“You are so goofy.”
“That’s why you love me so much.”
“I do. I really, really do. Okay, so we’re going on a trip to the Poconos. Me and you are sharing a room, Robin and Eddie are sharing a room. Or you could room with Robin and I could room with Eddie?”
“Absolutely not. Me and you, one room, one bed.”
“One bed? We’re not in a fan fiction.”
“Fine, two beds. But I get to pick what we watch on TV.”
“Deal. What’re we gonna do there?”
“Get drunk. Sight see. I’m gonna buy you some kick ass lame souvenirs and you’re gonna keep them forever. And there’s gonna be a lot of nose poking going on.”
“This sounds like the best trip ever.”
“The first of many, I hope.”
“Oh definitely. We’re gonna be travel buddies ‘til we’re geriatric. Two veggies in a Volkswagen bus.”
“Oh my God, you’re the worst.”
“It was funny!”
“It was not.”
Our banter continued for the rest of the night until he eventually put the fire out and brought me home. Every second with him felt like it was almost too much, suffocating me with how badly I loved him.
That was the night I started to think about leaving. I’d applied to colleges that were far away as a “just in case”, but maybe one of them could be serious. Anything would be better than pining after Steve for the rest of my life. I had to get away before high school ended and my real life began because seeing him all the time with no breaks or interruptions would’ve just been too much. He would be fine if I left, I told myself. He can still go on the trips and see the sights and poke the noses. He wouldn’t miss me too much.
He wouldn’t miss me.
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py-dreamer · 2 months
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@emerialyncodevenice
Hey! 1500th post woo!
Yea so I know Azure canonically kinda grooms Wukong (and the monkie kids to-) but STILL
Like, MAN do I love me some big papa lion.
And you know what in fanfic, we can have that! Here, he didn't groom anyone! He has hiss-hiss noodle baby and his big bird to kis-
And in 'Of Blood and Bones' we get that! Yay!
(and a bunch of angst on the sides!...less yay!)
So, Azure is the jade emperor here and is doing (I hope) a rather good job at it, but he's very busy and stuff and in the fic, Mei is always trying to get her baba to rest (I think...it's been a while since I read the early chapters) and oh yeah! Turns out the dragon heiress got adopted by the Jade emperor and his consort themselves!
Hooray! (Way to climb the social ladder ig)
I have a headcanon that Mei would hang around Azure's neck like one of them taxidermied fox scarves the scary rich ladies have in movies... but...alive (obviously) or for my hinduism mythology nerds, the snake Shiva wears around his neck like a necklace
...or to my papa's pizzeria nerds, the live mink around Krystal's neck
Anyways, Azure's fluffy mane make a great resting place and Mei loves to stay close to her Baba! So win win! It also acts as a way for her to unhinge her scary snake jaw if someone tries to drag him away for even more work.
Since Azure's so busy, at times when his arms are full I think like sometimes he lets his instincts get the better of him and nom the child up (Lions do pick up their cubs by the scruff) but at times his aim isn't the best and just grabs her abdomen and just settles for it
He looks so frazzled and Peng has to step in to roast their himbo husband and help fix things up
Inkyfeathers I imagine would be just like Ratchet and Optimus from TFP: I will follow you into every battle with only mild complaining
(Hell, I wonder if the aquirement of Mei was just like:
Peng: Azure, what the hell are you doing now
Azure: I assure you love, I have absolutely nothing to hide. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to attend to-
Peng: Hold on, your majesty. Last I checked, your shirt didn't look that lumpy
Azure: it just got ruffled up, that's all. No need to make a fuss about it-
Peng: And shirts don't move either.
Azure: wait, we can talk about it-
Mei: ('u')/
Peng: Azure, mind telling me why there is a dragon in your shirt)
And Boy, as much as I want to open up a dang KFC on Peng's corpse, Inkyfeathers just does SOMETHING to me that I can't resist
There's not much to say about their designs, I wanted to give Azure a more royal purple is all!
(click photo for less sh!tty quality)
^^ Link to the great fic!
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skullsnbruises · 8 months
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I’m so happy to finish this ugh, I think this is the best vore descriptions I’ve written so far? Let me know how y’all liked it :)
If I made any mistakes no I didn’t, we wrote this partially at midnight and then the next morning on very little sleep. Lol. (Also. One day I’ll finish my requests, HAHAH, don’t worry I haven’t forgotten them)
[Ao3 Link]
Taglist: @poprockpanda @brick-a-doodle-do @local-squishmallow @dingbatnix @da3dm
As the Sun Sets
(2722 words) [fearplay, miscommunication, violence]
Walking along the wall was Philza and his two adopted dragon children. The skull masked one, Chayanne, was leading the group, proud dark purple scales on display as his tail whipped from side to side, a much smaller Tallulah gripping onto it lightly with her teeth. She was speckled with brown and blue, and her features were quite reminiscent of being aquatic, while Chayanne’s features were sharp and like knives, and was more striking of a scorpion, if anything. His body was his armor, tough skin built for anything, while Tallulah was meek, her petite body built for beauty instead.
Philza walked behind them, keeping an eye on his oversized children as they attempted to slow to his pace. He felt a spark of pride flicker inside his chest, watching how Chayanne was so careful with Tallulah, making sure to defend her at any cost. He’d tear obstructions out of their way with his claws, and nudge a path out for her, as she’d shyly pass through.
Phil loved his children a lot. He’d do anything to protect them, just like how he knew Chayanne would do anything to protect Tallulah.
Chayanne always striked Phil as reminiscent of Technoblade. They were both deeply caring, and highly protective, going to great lengths to defend their loved ones, no matter the cost. It was a charming quality, but Phil always had a fear in the back of his mind that it could be Chayanne’s downfall. He always prioritized others above himself, and that was worrisome.
Philza looked up into the sky, and estimated the time, “Hey, mates, it’s gonna get dark soon, let’s head back okay?”
The dragons turned around, and Tallulah let go of Chayanne’s tail for a moment, brushing herself against him instead. Chayanne made a chirp of acknowledgement and Tallulah dipped her head.
The dad waved his hand in motion for them to follow along, “Alright, come on you two.”
The sun was setting, and admittedly, Philza should’ve realized earlier. If only he hadn’t been so caught up in his own thoughts. Neither dragons could fly yet, their wings weren’t ready for that type of work, so they’d have to make the trek back on foot. It’s not like they couldn’t handle mobs, it would just be annoying to deal with. Chayanne might get caught up in the fight, too.
At least they had the beautiful scenic view of the sun dipping behind the land in the distance, meeting the ocean around the island. No matter how many centuries Philza lived through, the sunset took his breath away everytime.
Tallulah met beside Phil, and she nudged at his shoulder. She was very small compared to Chayanne, but still at least two feet taller than her dad, when she was on all fours.
They traveled back along against the wall, occasionally peering out at the forest, the trees obstructing their vision of any threats that might be posed in the distance.
They would be safe, Philza assured himself. He wasn’t exactly anxious, but he wanted to be cautious anyway. No need to have any unnecessary injuries.
Everything was going okay so far. Philza was chatting with the two dragons, and they’d chirp back, but occasionally pause to write a response on a sigh instead. Their handwritings were scratchy, words written with claws, but legible. They were mostly making small talk, nothing too important. Phil had commented on how much he loved the sunset, to the agreement of his kids.
It was turning out to be a pleasant walk back. Phil might’ve realized his guard had slipped in any other scenario, but he couldn’t now, simply enjoying his time with Chayanne and Tallulah, walking between the two dragons who were his family and love.
The sudden flash of a neon green light shot out, and Phil was blinded by the sudden brightness against the now-approaching night sky. He shielded his vision, eyes adjusting to the light in front of him, and with horror, he realized the creature in the air before them was the binary entity. Phil’s heart sank and his body tensed up, arm reaching instantly towards his sword, drawing it with a vengeful glint in his eye. He watched as Chayanne stepped in front of him and let out an enraged roar. His spiked tail whipped warningly, and Tallulah cowered behind Phil, body shrinking like she was his shadow.
The formless figure shaped its code around to resemble arms outstretched from its main body, and it zipped through the sky like lightning. It was suddenly overwhelming Phil, darting past his body, leaving sharp cuts along him as it whipped around him. He could hear Tallulah squeak in fear, and Chayanne let out a booming shriek, swinging his tail around to smack the entity like a flyswatter to a pesky bug.
The code monster was thwacked out of the air and collided hard against the ground, kicking up clumps of dirt. It was a brief moment of getting reorganized. Phil turned quickly towards his children, as Chayanne approached Tallulah with a pinched up terrified expression. She bowed her head at him, and he widened his mouth. Philza felt his heartbeat throbbing in his ears, breath heavy, as he watched in terror; Chayanne’s maw stretched open and scooped Tallulah up in one fell swoop. She disappeared behind a click of Chayanne’s teeth, and a large bump followed down the dragon's throat.
He wasn't allowed to question it any longer, as the code monster had recovered and was flying through the air again. Philza braced for the impact of its knife-like cuts, but his world was suddenly til shifted as his body was thrown up into the air. Philza’s breath was knocked out of his chest, staring downward was an open maw. His son’s open maw.
Everything seemed to slow, as his immortal life flashed behind his eyes. Chayanne has just swallowed Tallulah whole, and he was the next victim. He hadn’t any time to mourn his daughter, nor himself, as time returned to normal and gravity plummeted the man straight into the open mouth.
Teeth were sharp all around him, and he clung onto Chayanne’s tongue like a lifeline. The squishy appendage rolled around, and the pointed tongue curled in on itself, trying to push Phil back to his throat.
The man was filled with anxiety, kicking and flailing desperate, like his brain was powered only by instinct to survive. The uvula dangled, curling up and contorting as the mouth he was trapped inside shifted about. The tongue nudged and prodded at Philza, but he refused to go down easy. Something was seriously wrong with Chayanne right now, and Phil needed to make it out alive to find out what. Maybe there was a chance to save Tallulah too, before it was too late.
Philza reached and tried to climb, but was only slipping and losing his grip under the squishy tongue, salvia being Phil’s worst enemy. He used his nails, trying to pry himself up.
Chayanne’s body dramatically shook, and it felt as if he had been knocked over. Phil’s spot was taken from him, and he fell a significant amount. Chayanne’s constant movement was making it impossible, and then the worst thing Philza could’ve hoped would never happen happened.
He felt as Chayanne’s head lifted upward, leaving Philza grasping to hold onto the dragon's uvula. His son swallowed hard, tongue pushing up against the already soaked man, and uvula shifting around so Phil was kicking. His sandal slipped off and felt into the abyss of Chayanne’s esophagus. Phil had tried so hard to hold it until now, but a sudden grief ridden sob took over his body, and it was his downfall. As his body shook, his grip was lost, and he found himself trapped between squishy walls within the blink of an eye.
The walls of the throat squished Philza, his body folding along the wetness. His struggles were pointless, and nothing was good enough to grab, so the hard swallows that followed were more than enough to drag Phil deeper into his doom. The man let himself cry. For himself. For Tallulah. For Chayanne.
Within short lived moments, Phil wasn’t being squeezed anymore, and he slipped into a pool of some kind. As his mind raced, he realized this was the stomach. Dark, drenched, and dangerous. His eyes squinted, needy for a source of light to judge how fast he was going to die, and if escape might still be possible. The darkness was hard, but a few seconds gave him just enough that Phil could make out outlines.
In front of him was Tallulah. His beautiful daughter. She was small, she had shifted into her humanoid form again. Philza sludged wobbly through the pool. His hands came around her body, and he hugged her.
She let out small chirps, aroused from the touch. Her pretty brown eyes blinked open and she looked up to meet eyes with her dad. His heart panged, so grateful that she was still alive.
The dragon was thrust around again, sloshing the wetness up and splashing against the stomach walls. Tallulah tightened her claws into Philza’s shirt, steadying against his weight. They silently decided sitting was less dangerous, and Phil sat Tallulah onto his lap, brushing fingers through her soaking curled hair.
“Oh my gods, Tallulah,” he swore he’d never cried so much, “I was so worried.”
She tilted her head and a small noise sounded from her chest. Her sweater paws wrapped around him in a warm embrace.
“I’ll find us a way out,” Phil bit his lip, the words feeling rotten on his tongue. It felt like a lie, and he wouldn’t promise a thing to her now. As much as he wanted to stay positive, things were looking hopeless.
Philza glanced around, the walls were a deepend purple hue, squiggly and textured. The faint shine reflected on them, showing off the small hints of blue and green. Everything felt small inside the stomach, the space was little, and the stomach contracted around them ever so often, a claustrophobic dread washing over him with every slosh of acid.
Chayanne’s body was no longer being flailed and thrown around, Phil realized. The only movement was a steady rhythmic pattern; walking, if he had to guess.
“I think things have calmed down, Tallulah,” Phil gulped, “Maybe Chayanne will realize now and let us out.”
His daughter made that same tiny movement. Confused body language.
“What is it?” He glanced down at her frown. He squinted, making out her limited sign language skills.
“S-a-f-e. No Tallulah, this isn’t safe right now, I’m gonna make us safe though, if it’s the last thing I do-,” he was cut off by her nudging him.
“S-a-f-e, yes Tallulah, I understood. I’m saying that-“ She crossed her arms and pointed at the spot they were sitting, then around in a circular motion towards the stomach walls. She repeated the word, emphasizing each letter in her hands.
The man was confused, and a little concerned, “Are you saying we’re safe right now,” a nod, “we aren’t, Tallulah. I’m going to-“
Their bodies were shifted around once more, tossed around inside the organ. The walls squeezed in on them again, making ‘gllk’ and sloppy sounds as the walls seemed to throb like a heart. Suddenly, Philza, with a death grip on Tallulah , was being pushed back up the esophagus. The man was overtaken by dizziness as light once again flooded his senses, and a hard thud knocked against his back. His hands still carried Tallulah’s meek weight, and his disoriented state kept him laying on the ground.
Several deep breaths later, senses coming back into fruition, Philza was ready to properly open his eyes and see what the hell was going on.
He was immediately met with Chayanne’s snout, exhales breathing over his body. He jolted up, backing up slightly. Chayanne and Tallulah were staring at him so calmly, like nothing deeply traumatic had just happened.
The deep purple dragon slowly shifted back, scales morphing into skin, entire figure shrinking, tail and horns sliding into a proportionate size to his child body. He tilted his head at his dad.
Breathless, the man tried to stand, “W-what the fuck?!”
The boy pulled out a yellow sign, placing it on the ground. He crouched the carve in his sentence. When finished, he scooted to the side, sitting with the duck floaty around his body comfortably.
“I’m confused dad, what’s wrong?” Phil read, “MATE. You just ate me and your sister! How is that not obviously the problem?!”
Chayanne shrunk into himself, tail curling around his legs. He looked ashamed now.
Tallulah took her turn to write, a purple sign displayed for Philza.
Again, he read it aloud, “This is a dragon thing.” He made a noise of disbelief, “You’re just able to swallow each other alive, no problem?!”
A casual nod from both children.
“How haven’t I known this sooner?! Would’ve saved a lot of panic!” His stern tone came to a halt, staring at the sad expressions of the siblings, “Okay. I’m sorry for how I reacted. You two need to let me know about things this important though, okay? Your dad needs to know if he’s going to get swallowed alive next time.”
Then the situation hit him, “Oh shit, is everyone okay?”
Chayanne had a few cuts. Nothing serious, upon inspection. Tallulah was unscathed. Phil had some nasty slices along his face, but it would be fine with some painkillers and days to heal.
Inside Chayanne’s room, Philza bandaged the boy up, as Tallulah bounced happily on the bed. Phil was knelt down, sticking another bandage over Chayanne’s arm. The blood was dried, so he’d wiped the dark remnants away with a damp cloth. The boy was peering down, and even through the mask, Phil could sense the sadness within him.
He hummed, “What’s up?” He patted Chayanne’s chest, finishing up the bandages and medicine. The boy sighed, taking his place beside his sister on the bed. He leaned against her, and Tallulah wrapped his arm around his waist.
Chayanne’s lower lip quivered, taking out a sign and slowly started writing on it. Phil waited patiently, putting the medical supplies away. He occasionally glanced over to his son, frowning at Chayanne’s sad expression. Tallulah watching over his shoulder, eyebrows furrowing as she watched his sentence form.
Chayanne turned the finished sign around, dipping his head and avoiding all eye contact.
Philza read it out. “Did I fail?” His breath slowed and instantly rushed over to wrap Chayanne into his arms, squeezing him tightly, “Of course not, you saved us. You protected us, Chayanne.” His heart twisted and he held him closer. Phil shifted, bringing Chayanne into his lap as he sat up on the bed, leaning against the wall with his son resting now on his chest, “Listen, mate, you did amazing. I’m sorry how I acted, I didn’t know what was up. But you got me and your sister out of there. I’m just so fucking sorry you had to fight alone.”
The little dragon whimpered, and Tallulah scooted over to join the hug. She held up a sign for him, reading, ‘We love you!’
He whimpered in response, biting his tongue to hold back the tears.
“It’s okay. You can cry. You’re allowed,” Philza whispered out. His son needed the confirmation now more than anything. His son’s hold tightened, and a bundle of tears and twitches broke through him. Tallulah and Phil kept him close, comforting him through his sobs. They rubbed circles into his clothes.
After a few minutes, his cries died out, and they were left holding one another. Philza wordlessly stood from the bed, and tucked the two under the blankets, fluffing their pillows and bending down to press kisses against either of their foreheads.
“You both were perfect today,” he spoke softly, “Get some sleep. I love you both so much.”
Tallulah held up a hand, sleepily showing the sign for ‘I love you.’ Chayanne made a few groggy clicks, before turning to hold his sister, wrapping around her smaller body in a protective cuddle. They both purred, closing their eyes and adjusting quietly. Philza smiled, waiting until they fell asleep before he silently left, shutting the door with a click behind him.
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doomed-era · 8 days
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I Ramble About Revali and Groose
i don't actually expect people to care about minor characters or side characters in any other media franchise i'm in, but with loz i tend to get annoyed with people if they clearly only care about zelda and link, and it has to do with how the games frame side characters post-fujibayashi
so revali and groose are part of a common ongoing narrative trope in zelda games of someone who's on the good guy team but is somewhat antagonistic or "mean" to link for whatever reason. you get this with mido and (somewhat) with tetra and her crew and midna. the difference between these characters and groose/revali is in why they don't like link. mido is pretty much a bully who has never liked link because he's just different from the other kids—he is an eternal child, so this makes sense —tetra is skeptical that link can actually do anything in the forsaken fortress initially, and midna wants to use link (and to extent, the legend/narrative itself) for her own ends.
groose and revali don't like link because he's the main character, and they're right. groose clearly despises link because while he's exceptionally lazy and disinterested, everyone likes link, and the youth succeeds even when he doesn't try. later on, this turns into frustration that link is part of some grand scheme and he's...just not. he is a secondary character in-universe, and according to impa the best thing he can do is help on the sidelines. he is a big help, and a very lovable character in his own right, but he's fundamentally trapped in his own narrative.
revali is VERY similar to him in this regard, except he's aware that he's a supporting character (a champion) from the start, and hates link specifically for it. unlike groose, he never really does anything about it besides be somewhat snide, and eventually admits that link might be an okay hero when the rito champion is dead and can't do anything besides fire a big laser anyway. link has been groomed since he was a child to become a knight: his father's a knight, he pulled the master sword when he was twelve, iirc he might have joined the royal guard at an extremely young age, and everyone seems to have a great deal of respect towards him. revali is an extremely skilled archer and pushes himself to the limit, but he wasn't born into it or led down that path like link, so he has to play second fiddle.
now, I don't think characters being side characters is bad. I don't think revali or groose even being side characters is bad. but I certainly don't like how it frames their desire to be more than that as...well, bad. it really reinforces my reading of post-skyward sword games as correct; characters are expected to know their place in the narrative and not strive for more or try to break out of their little boxes, and if they do, they're villainized or it's treated like a character flaw. I don't think they were necessarily right to resent link for something that's ultimately out of his control, but what else are they gonna do?
but, according to the narrative, the only thing they can do is help those chosen by the gods, those chosen to lead, as they were chosen to bend to their will. they are cosmically unimportant, and they will never be worth paying attention to. the reason i tend to prefer people who actually look at characters that aren't link and zelda and try to examine them is because they're kind of going against the narrative itself, which really wants to push the idea that only zelda and link are important, ganon is just there to be an adversary and doesn't have any real grievances, and the only thing that matters is keeping hyrule and hylian supremacy intact.
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yumedoca · 3 months
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Hi! How are you?
I was thinking about Urusei Yatsura and I must admit I don’t understand Ataru. The more I think, the less I understand! Would you help?
Why is he so insistent with the womanizing? Why he needs it so bad? He really wants the attention of all of these girls or is that supposed to represent his biggest desire for freedom above all else? It’s sort of messed up that he priorizes his so-called freedom and the skirt-chasing above being with the girl he loves and who loves him back and that he knows he’s hurting said girl with his behavior (both the girl-hunting and by withholding affection) and he keeps doing that anyway 😭 (... Not that Lum is a saint either but that's besides the point). Ataru's unwillingness to compromise and to give up on his habit really gets in the way of him truthfully experiencing "True Love", doesn't it? It seems like he would rather lose Lum than commit to her. Do you think he would have acted differently if it was with Shinobu?
Oh, and I've seen some speculation that explained Ataru's lechery as being the result os his relationship with his mother and the lack of motherly love he received growing up, so he actually goes after all these girls because he's that starved for affection. What do you think?
Hai there, Hope you're doing great!!
Sure, I'll help you out!! Ataru is a complicated individual, after all. But first, I think it would help you a lot if you read my write up on 'Ataru's Love for Lum' first since whatever I've mentioned there is very vital to understanding Ataru as well.
And I haven't even started yet but I have a feeling this will be a sequel to the linked post above since this ask does bring up some questions I don't think I've directly touched in that one.. so...
I hope my fellow UY's are having a great day because today on ‘Yuca Analyzes Silly Things (For No Reason)’, we'll be talking more about Ataru and his relationship with Lum!
And naturally there are spoilers so proceed with caution..
Ok now, let's begin!! Your first question is 'Why does Ataru womanize?' As for the initial reason? Not completely sure. The manga shows that he's just always been like that, even as a kid. It's just never been talked about. And I don't believe in the speculation which you stated btw, because I wouldn't say that Ataru had a lack of motherly love. Yeah, Mrs. Moroboshi can be a bit comedically harsh, but most of that ends up being a one time joke. In fact, she actually really does love Ataru and takes really good care of him (to the point where she waits for him to arrive before eating dinner, says she'll save up money on him so he can go to a good college and other details like that which you can catch here and there), she's just worried about his idiotic tendencies, that's all.
The best theory I have about his womanizing is that ever since he was little he's always seen women in a sort of 'very nice and sweet onee-chan' sort of way. What supports this theory is the fact that Ataru's mom seems to be the most involved in his life compared to his dad (who's either at work or buried deep into his newspapers, he does spend sometime though) and has the most agency in the family. Because of that small Ataru probably had a better view of woman, which probably made him want to meet more and befriend them but since he was small and an idiot, he would just cling onto them which naturally annoyed them to the point of there being rumors about him. And as he grew older (and hormones), this 'liking' eventually became lust. Another theory is that it might be genetics since both of his parents have fallen for someone else during the series' run, but that's like the only thing to support the theory. In the end, I'm still not completely sure. Like to be fair, UY is a gag which wasn't exactly written with much thought (yeah, the character development is unintentional. I'm pretty sure it's a result of RT writing each chapter by going with the natural flow of the story, which is why the characters grow gradually. This isn't something any writer can do btw) so not everything would have an explanation.
Next is 'Why is he still womanizing? why does he want these girls?' Because he's young. He's still a teenager and he likes women and he has for years to the point it's a habit. Habits are hard to break so he can't suddenly be dedicated to someone out of straight up nowhere (especially if she basically got them 'married' instantly when he's still just a teenager). His love for women is just a huge part of his personality, it's just not something he can throw away in an instant and because of that he remains attached. What does not help matters even more is the number of gorgeous girls who're usually around him on a daily basis, girls who are incredibly cute, beautiful, sexy.. tell me, just tell me exactly how easy would it be to break his girl hunting habit when that's the case??
As for Lum, Ataru doesn't emotionally hurt Lum with his womanizing for the most part. Sure, the hope he would stop does linger in her but his infidelity for the most part only makes her mad more than anything else, and she recovers from her anger pretty quickly. Lum getting deeply hurt, is actually quite rare (and has happened very few times in the series) since she's mostly very outgoing. Whenever she's that hurt, we, the readers are made aware of her feelings because unlike a certain idiot, she doesn't keep how she feels to herself. But for the most part, Lum just goes into furious rage rather than any sort of deep feelings when it comes to Ataru's womanizing and yes, Ataru is completely aware of that so he knows he isn't hurting her in any serious way.. and if he did hurt her in that manner, he would probably want to fix things with her..
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See how Ataru wanted to talk to her here when he thought she was emotionally hurt? But it was actually buildup for her rage..
The next bit I want to talk about is how both of them love teasing, irking and messing with the other, Ataru likes poking at Lum's temper and Lum likes messing up Ataru's enjoyment with women because to them, their daily antics are like a game which neither wants to lose because of their pride. Like that, their 'he flirts, she zaps, she chases him' thing isn't something they take to an emotional value. It's their game, a game which neither wants to give up.
Now with that done, I want to talk about what you said regarding 'Ataru prioritizing his womanizing over Lum' which has evidently shown to be incorrect. One example is in the 'Electric Jungle' arc, when he left a date with some girl just so he could go on his date with Lum. It's not always a girl accepts Ataru's request; the chances for that is most probably lower than his chances to go on a date with Lum, yet he still left his date with the girl anyways because he knew Lum was waiting for him. Another example is the fact that Ataru won't accept a harem if it doesn't have Lum in it. If Lum isn't in the harem, the harem means nothing to him. Heck, the reason why he wants a harem is because he needs Lum with him, even if there are other girls. Lum is what matters the most to him.
Next is the topic of Ataru and 'true love', Ataru isn't someone who yearns and is desperate for 'true love', but he still does hold it with value. To Ataru, 'true love' doesn't mean flirting, kissing, etc., it means something much deeper, something that comes from the heart. The former can be done even if you don't love someone truly, but the latter is what 'true love' is. There's also a bit more to it but I've already talked about this in the above linked analysis, so I'll just copy-paste that part here instead of writing it from scratch:
Now if he does love her, then why doesn’t he agree to do couple stuff (here I mean stuff like kissing, flirting, saying “I love you”, etc.) with her? That’s because he does all those things with other woman to the point they have lost that specialness. It may still be special to her, but not to him because Lum isn’t any woman, he’s the only one he actually cares about and he doesn’t want to give her the same treatment he gives other women.
So, yeah, it's exactly what I said..
And finally the question 'Would he have acted differently if it was Shinobu?' Of course, we all know that they used to be exes and we do get to see how it was back then as well so we'll just use that info. The womanizing part remains the same for the most part, Ataru would chase skirts if it's either Lum or Shinobu. But the difference would be in whether he shows affection. With Lum, Ataru knows that she'll never leave him and that she will only love him (which is true) but Shinobu isn't like that. Shinobu didn't have any other options and she was already friends with Ataru which is why they started dating. But when she's presented with a better option (temporarily Rei, though only in term of handsomeness, she turned him down because he's an idiot, and later Mendo) her mind immediately wavers and prefers the better option, after all she wants the one who is the match made for her. Because of this, Ataru can't hide his feelings (which he eventually ended up losing anyways) or else it's literally over. It's also easier for Ataru to show affection towards Shinobu since he's always been friendly with her, unlike Lum who he treated terribly at first.
And I think that's it! This ended up being hella long and I ended up spending a lot of time on this (so.. to those reading, please like and even more importantly, reblog! pretty please?) and I hope I was able to clear all your questions anon! Ataru's a tough nut to crack but once you do it you'll see why it is that way. Anyways, that's it, thank you for taking your time reading this and have a great day ahead!!
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montypng · 1 year
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new follower here, love your art so much it's filled with so much character! I saw your tag on the lovely ghoul art; so, thought I'd send an ask: I'd love to hear your thoughts on danger days! Any things at all, feel free to ramble if you want! I always love hearing others hcs/opinions/etc on the series!
HELLO this ask has been sitting in my inbox since january sorry..its mostly bc i have sooo many things 2 talk about and i wasnt sure what i wanted 2 say in this answer but whatever im just gonna ramble SO!!! U get a bunch of random hcs and maybe thematic analysis yippee!! and thank u soo much for the kind words :]
imo all the kjs have some form of body focused repetitive behavior because this is my world and i do what i want.. poison and ghoul have dermatillomania (compulsive skin picking), and kobra and jet have trich (hair pulling) maybe. I think constantly being on the run + adrenaline highs and lows would lead to unhealthy coping mechanisms for all of them and desert living leads 2 pretty shit skin (poison+kobra have at least had bad acne for sure) which is conducive to skin picking..i think the venom siblings and ghoul are bat city runaways too so the withdrawal from bli pills (+shakes and sweats) contributed to them developing bfrbs.
ghoul also gets really bad shakes and jitters from withdrawal, so when it gets so bad that they can’t work on their explosives he blasts mad gear as loud as it can from its speakers and lets himself scream all the frustration out.
also ghoul definitely has hearing loss from bomb detonation in too close proximity. tell me it would know abt proper hearing protection safety protocols with a straight face its impossible.
kobra was born w microform cleft lip, which means he has a little deformity/groove in his upper lip kind of similar to a snake’s . also he broke his nose at some point and it healed wrong so crooked nosebridge↴
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both jet and kobra are prone to migraines bc of eye strain and sensitivity (jet is nearly fully blind in his right eye and both kobras eyes are extremely sensitive to light, hence the sunglasses).
sometimes when the migraines are too much they both lie down in the trans am seats together at night and close their eyes and breathe in the dark
prior to jets eye injury they were the teams best marksman, and im not sure yet how greatly that changes after they lose depth perception, but one thing i like to believe is that jet is also a great sniper (stereoscopic vision due to retinal disparity is also only effective up til about 30 meters too so he wouldnt need to rely on binocular vision for that), so maybe they focuse on that skill post-injury. how i picture their scar ↴
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this is so long already but 1 last thing more in a thematic analysis vein: i need ppls opinions on the girl and her story PLEASE. she has so little agency in the canon narrative but . Where r the girlposters around here i need to hear others thoughts on her guilt complex from the fab 4s sacrifice and her running away from her own role as the protagonist of a story she never wanted 2 be part of and her blowing up the city that killed her family and whether or not that alleviated her neuroses and brought catharsis or not and her characterisation as a literal bomb and destructive force even though shes just a kid and ughhh. Linking this girl post i made a while ago w an anne carson quote that makes me crazy ANYWAYS. Talk 2 me about her. Im begging.
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Forever and Always
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Summary: Things didn't work out the way you wanted, but that's okay because you're both still happy in the end.
Warnings: exes to friends!Kepa, slight angst, brief mentions of anxiety in the beginning but really nothing too bad, brief heartache but it has a happy ending I promise
Word Count: 2.5K
A/N: My attempt at writing angst for Kepa because literally I just can't do it lmao. This is lowkey a Christian fanfic ngl but I thought Kepa would make for the perfect ex since he's getting married to Andrea (I promise I'll fight him for her hand in marriage but anyways). Highly recommended you listen to "Never Ending Story" by Stray Kids. The English translation will have you SOBBING
~~~
You looked in the mirror, smoothing out your dress and adjusting the bow in your hair. You'd been standing there for the past 20 minutes readjusting everything. It was the big day after all. You needed to make sure everything was perfect with nothing to screw it up.
It was hard to describe how you were feeling. It was a sensation you hadn't really experienced before in your life. You were anxious, but it was both happy and incredibly nerve-wracking all at the same time. But you knew you had to go through with it and push through the feelings.
You took a deep breath, taking one last look at yourself before heading downstairs where your friend was waiting for you.
"It's finally the big day. Are you ready?" your friend asked you.
"As ready as I'll ever be," you replied nervously.
"Then let's get this show on the road," they responded, linking arms with you and leading you to the car. "You look great by the way. I know you're overthinking it but you look stunning."
"Thanks," you said appreciatively.
The closer you got to the venue, the more your stomach started to twist. You weren't regretting your decision in the slightest. Actually, this would be one of the best days of your life. Still, the anticipation was killing you. You just wanted to be in that moment already.
"You're not getting cold feet are you?" your friend asked as they parked the car.
"Never," you said fidgeting with your hands, the ring on your finger glistening as the light hit it. "Just a little nervous is all."
Your friend shook their head and looked at you.
"Hey, look at me. It's perfectly okay to be nervous right now. It's not dumb or stupid or weird at all. But you got this. You've made it this far and you know deep down, this is something that you've always wanted. This is a dream come true. So just take a deep breath, get out the car, and strut your stuff," they said.
"You know what? You're right. I've been looking forward to this for so long and I'm not gonna let some nerves try and ruin such an important day for me," you said confidently, letting out a shaky breath.
Your friend smiled. "That's my girl. Now let's go show that crowd who the fucking boss is!"
You stepped out of the car and adjusted your dress one final time.
"Does my hair look bad? I feel like it looks bad," you said, fussing around with the bow again.
Your friend swatted your hands away.
"Stop fussing! You look beautiful. Just take a deep breath okay?"
You took your friend's advice, breathing deeply while taking in the sight around you. Everything looked absolutely perfect. It was everything you'd imagined it to be. It just screamed him. You knew how absolutely meticulous he was and it paid off. The decorations were beautiful, the venue was stunning, and everything was set to be the perfect night. You couldn't wipe the smile off your face knowing that in a few moments, the promises you'd made to each other all those years ago would be permanently set in the vows that would be spoken.
Your heart ached ever so slightly.
The doors in front of you opened. Your breath hitched and your heart stopped as you saw him down the aisle. There he stood at the end of it, mirroring exactly how you felt. He was always better than you at keeping his emotions at bay, but you knew him well enough to know that his nerves were just as bad as yours.
He met your gaze, his heart skipping at the sight of you. You looked perfect tonight. You always did to him. The two of you smiled at each other from opposite ends of the aisle, taking in everything going on around you. It was perfect, just like you'd always wanted.
You started walking toward him, letting yourself be fully immersed in the moment. You knew you would remember the feeling for the rest of your life and you just wanted to enjoy it.
Your eyes never left his as you reached the very end of the aisle. You both stood there for a while, letting everything else around you fade away. You never spoke a word, but you knew exactly what the other was thinking. Your souls had always been intertwined that way since the day you met.
'I can't believe it's already here,' you grinned at him.
'I know. Just like we promised,' he grinned back.
The ache in your heart grew more prominent.
'Congratulations Kepa. I'm so so happy for you amor. You and Andrea deserve the world.'
He looked down at the ground, the ache also becoming present in his own heart. He cleared his throat before meeting your eyes again.
'Thank you princesa.'
A hand gently placed itself in the small of your back, causing you to jump and break eye contact with your ex lover.
"You doing okay?" your friend who was also your boyfriend asked you.
You swallowed the nostalgic ache, letting it pass through and smiling at him.
"Yeah I'm okay Christian. Just needed a minute," you said softly.
Christian kissed your forehead gently. You leaned into his touch feeling content.
"Let's go find our seats before Kepa has our heads for holding up his wedding," Christian joked, grabbing your hand.
You made eye contact with Kepa one final time. The ache in both your chests dulled as you smiled softly at each other in understanding. You gave him a thumbs up with your free hand making him laugh before Christian dragged you towards your seats.
The wedding was beautiful. Andrea was the most stunning bride you'd ever seen in your life. Quite frankly, you were half tempted to object just to ask for Andrea's hand in marriage. But the awestruck look in Kepa's eyes as he stared at his wife was enough for you to hold it in. The moment they said "I do," you were sobbing into Christian's arms. Christian was highly amused at your display of emotions but held you nonetheless, also happy for his friend and teammate.
You were on the dance floor with Andrea, Sophia, and some of the other WAGs having the time of your lives. You'd pretty much ditched your boyfriends/husbands for each other, leaving the men to try and out dance your little group. It turned into a strangely competitive little game, but it was hilarious nonetheless. It was genuinely such an amazing experience to share with all of your friends that you knew you wouldn't forget.
Deciding you needed some air, you excused yourself to sit outside on the steps for a bit. It was quiet with the rest of the guests inside the reception hall. The stars were shining brightly, the moonlight illuminating the world around you. You let out a sigh of content at how peaceful it was.
"I figured you'd be out here at some point tonight," a voice said behind you, breaking the silence.
"And I figured you'd notice when I slipped away," you snorted back not even flinching at your companion.
"Don't I always?"
The figure sat down next to you nudging your knee with his.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You don't have to be such a smartass on your wedding day, Kepa," you retorted. "But you get one pass."
Kepa chuckled as you laid your head on his shoulder. You sat in silence for a bit, letting yourselves enjoy the presence of the other.
"Can I ask you something?" he asked hesitantly after a while.
"Always," you answered.
"Do you ever wonder if it could've been us in the end?"
"You're really asking me this on your wedding night?" you joked, trying to cover up the way your heart started to ache again.
He pushed you lightly making you giggle.
"Just a thought," Kepa said absentmindedly. "I figured if I was gonna ask you, tonight was as good as any to do it."
You hummed, not answering him right away. More silence fell between the two of you. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer into him. He placed his head on top of yours. You hadn't done this in a while, but your hearts recognized the familiarity.
"I think about it every time I look at you, amor," you almost whispered, breaking the silence once more. "If we're being honest, the heartache never fully went away. And I don't think it ever will."
"Me too."
"I'm happy it's Andrea. I know how much you love her," you said. "She's everything you deserve and more. Honestly, I'm not really why she settled for you when I'm right here but that's fine."
He chuckled. "Hate to break it to you, princesa, but Andrea is mine for the rest of eternity."
"I will fight you, you know."
His thumb rubbed your side gently the way he always used to.
"I'm happy you found a home in Christian. He's a good guy, and an even better one for you," Kepa said softly.
"It's funny. If you told me 10 years ago that I'd be at your wedding as a guest and not as your bride, I wouldn't have believed you," you said.
"I wouldn't have believed me either. The thought would've been too painful."
You giggled, thinking of the old memories you shared. "We used to practice our vows all the time. Remember? 'I promise I won't keep putting my cold feet on your stomach in the middle of winter.'"
"Or 'I'll stop accidentally kicking you at three in the morning.'"
The two of you were cracking up. You were so young, so naïve, but those moments meant everything to you even after all these years later.
"There was one vow I haven't broken yet. And I don't ever intend on breaking it," Kepa said seriously.
He removed his arm from your waist to take your hand in his, intertwining your fingers. It's funny how things work out. His hands fit perfectly with yours just like they always had. They were familiar and comforting. They were still home to you after all these years.
But no longer did you have the butterflies you used to feel when Kepa held your hands. Your heart no longer skipped a beat at his touch. You felt content, but the romantic feelings had fleeted long ago.
"And what's that?"
He squeezed your hand tighter, kissing the back of it.
"I vowed that I will love you forever and always. That no matter what happens, I will always love you."
He lifted his head from yours and gently moved so that your foreheads were touching. His hand let go of yours only to place it on your cheek. His thumb gently stroked your cheek and you leaned into him.
"You're still home to me, princesa. Maybe not in the way we expected, but nothing will ever change that."
"You'll always be home to me too, Kepa."
You squeezed your eyes shut, taking a deep breath. Your heart ached, but you knew it always would.
"I love you Kepa Arrizabalaga, forever and always."
"I love you Y/N Y/L/N. And nothing will ever change that."
You wrapped your arms around his neck while his went around your waist. And you held each other tightly under the moonlight, hoping that you would never have to let go.
To any outsider, it may have looked strange. The groom acting in such a way with someone who wasn't his bride. But Andrea and Christian both knew even they couldn't come in the way of a first love. You and Kepa were each other's firsts for everything. And though you may not have been endgame, you would always love each other.
Calling your breakup "devastating" was a severe understatement. It was a mutual decision, but it didn't make it hurt any less. You loved each other long before you knew what love really was. But you were both young and stupid, still trying to navigate your way through life. And as much as the two of you loved each other, you knew that staying together the way you wanted was never going to be how your story ended.
But fate never led to astray from one another. The two of you went your separate ways for a while, not contacting the other just to help you move on and live your separate lives. Eventually, Kepa met Andrea, who was everything you couldn't be for Kepa and more. She was truly his perfect compliment and you were relieved to see someone love him the way he deserved.
Likewise, you fell in love with Christian along the way. Funnily enough, it was Andrea who had introduced the two of you. He wasn't Kepa, but he didn't need to be. Christian brought out the best in you and you were the happiest you'd ever been. You didn't think you'd ever get over Kepa, but Christian completely changed your mind. He made you believe in love again. And Kepa couldn't have asked for anyone better for you.
"Okay, enough of this sappy stuff. You have a bride in there waiting for you an if you don't hurry back to her, she'll be my wife by the end of the night," you half joked, trying to wipe the tears that formed away. "It's sort of a joke but not really so go before I actually fight for her."
Kepa chuckled.
"Thank you for coming, princesa. It means a lot to me," he said seriously.
"I wouldn't have missed it for the world, amor," you said smiling back at him.
Kepa gently kissed your forehead, letting his lips linger for a moment before standing up.
"Do you want to come back inside?" he asked as he dusted off his suit.
You shook your head.
"Don't worry about me, Kepa. Go to your wife."
"Impossible. I'll always worry about you, Y/N."
You chuckled. "I can pretty much guarantee Christian is awkwardly waiting behind the doors for you to leave so he can check on me. I'll be fine amor."
And you were spot on. Kepa busted out laughing seeing Christian sheepishly emerge. You looked over at Kepa smugly, 'I told you so' being written all over your face.
"She's all yours mate. I got a wife to keep away from her," Kepa winked. They did a quick handshake, Kepa patted Christian's back afterwards. He met your eyes one last time, twinkling with happiness before joining everyone inside.
You stood up, dusting your dress off. You skipped over to Christian kissing his cheek, your own eyes twinkling.
"I'm all good I promise," you said before he could ask.
"I know you are baby. Now let's go out dance everyone on that dance floor."
You giggled and took his hand.
Things weren't what you expected. You didn't end up marrying Kepa like you'd hoped for and the heartache you felt every time you looked at him would never fully go away. But he was much too important for you to lose. Kepa was your home, and you were his. Your hearts would always be intertwined in some way and the love you shared would always be there. And that was more than enough.
Taglist: @neverinadream @pulisicsgirl @masonsrem @masonspulisic @bracedes @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti @thoseboysinblue @mortirolo @lovelynikol16 @chelseagirl98
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bawltongue · 11 months
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ROOMMATES - Pt 1
(jonathan davis x stealth transmasc reader <on t, post op top surgery>. takes place in early 90s, very beginning of korn. reader gets notice by landlord that they will have to share their space with a new roommate- that being jd. despite the readers initial lack of excitement, they get to know each other and develop a mutual liking)
18+ !!!!!!!
warning: substance use, lots of swearing, slurs, brief mention of the film 'cannibal holocaust'
BEEP BEEP BEEP
“Fucking shit!” You sputtered out, woken up from a deep sleep due to your obnoxious alarm. You had the day off, but had forgotten to turn it off the evening prior. You sighed, feeling defeated already. Another day where you’ve been yanked out of slumber nearly suffering a heart attack at 8 AM.
“Great, there goes sleeping in today.”
Getting up from your bed, you groggily stumbled into the kitchen. Might as well prepare a decent breakfast, since you actually have time rather then having to rush to work. You opened up the fridge to scan various ingredients, trying to decide on what you were going to make. You had meant to go grocery shopping a few days ago, but your consistent exhaustion has kept you nothing but work and homebound. The fridge was basically barren and despite your rumbling gut, nothing looked appetizing.
Well, nothing except for your trusty old bong sitting on the counter where you had left it the night before. It still had some ash and weed inside the bowl; even a bit of green still sprinkled in there. You sighed picking it up, mildly disappointed in yourself over how happy the thought of lighting it up made you. Walking out onto your tiny haven of a balcony, you plopped down in one of the plastic yard chairs and picked up the lighter left lying on the ground. Inhaling the comforting smoke, you sat wondering what you could do to postpone going to the grocery store for as long as possible.
“Damn, this is some good ass shit.” You coughed out, already feeling high after a couple hits. Your dealer knew you back in high school as the weird, quiet, androgynous kid. When you had first linked up about a year ago inquiring about buying from him, he thought your transition was ‘cool and interesting’. He always made sure to give you his best product; sometimes he’ll even slide you some free edibles to try.
Finishing up what was left in the bowl, you made your way back inside to fill it back up and get fucked up for the day; only to be inturupted by a knock at your door.
“Shit shit shit.” You anxiously jumped up, racing to shove your bong under the kitchen sink and lighting a candle on your coffee table. You weren’t expecting any visitors, and you had already paid rent for the month a week and a half ago; what’s the fucking deal?
Another impatient sounding knock at the door.
“Coming, I-I’m coming!” You stumbled over to the door, opening it without even thinking to look through the peephole. Lo and behold, your landlord, Lily, was waiting with a hand on her hip and a raised eyebrow.
“Do I have to remind you for like, the billionth time that you can’t be smoking? You’re gonna get me in trouble, Y/N.” She said half seriously, half nonchalantly. You’ve had this conversation so many times, all she can really do at this point is wag her finger and pretend to care.
“Shit, you can smell it?”
“Not this time, but your eyes give it away.” She snickered, gesturing at your face. “Anyways, that’s not what I’m here to talk to you about. I have news, and you’re either gonna be excited or pissed at me. Probably pissed. Either way, it’ll be your problem, not mine.” She crossed her arms and took a step closer.
“You’re scaring me, Lily. Like, that just made me so anxious. Just give it to me straight.” You braced yourself, crossing your arms in front of your chest and holding onto your shoulders. You honestly didn’t know what to expect at this point. You’ve been residing in the same complex for close to 2 years now, so aside from the occasional drama from the room above you or malfunctioning of appliances; surprises weren’t something that occurred often at all. You were almost hoping for her to say something a little outlandish. Life had felt so redundant lately.
“Alright. You want it straight? I’ll give to ya. Finances are… rough, to say the least. I can’t keep up with what I’m charging you for rent. So I’m raising it-“
“What? Are you kidding? You know I’m in a shitty situation myself, I can barely afford an eighth of grass. I’m paying for my hrt, come on, dont do this to m-“
“Y/N, chill. You ain’t even let me finish my sentence. Why would I mention you’d be excited if I was just gonna double the rent on you? You think I’m a monster?” She looked mildly offended. Her assurance made you relax your shoulders a bit.
“Anyways; I’m raising the rent and you’re going to be splitting it with a new roommate. I think he’ll be a perfect match for you, he’s your age, a bit quiet, but-“
“Aw shit… please tell me you’re joking. I don’t mesh well with other people. Especially strangers. Plus, you know my ‘thing’. What if I get hatecrimed? What do you even know about this guy?”
“Enough to be sure he won’t slaughter you. I dunno, he might be a little… you know… queer himself even. Not my business.” She flashed a limp wrist to emphasize her point. It would’ve made you chuckle if you weren’t so disappointed and taken off guard. “Be prepared for your new friend tonight. I already told him he’d probably have to take the foldout couch to sleep in.”
“Whatever.”
“You know, maybe you should be excited or something. You’re always alone, getting stoned by yourself and shuffling around here like a hobbit. Your life is your life, but you have a shot at making a friend. You’re gonna have to get used to it anyways, because I need money, and you need a place to live. Once I get his payment, I may even be able to fix your hot water problem.” She winked cartoonishly and took a step back. “That’s all I had to say. If you can afford it, go buy some eyedrops.” She said before walking away, unbothered.
You made a disgusted expression at her back before slamming the door shut and pacing to your bedroom to put some normal clothes on. In that moment, you had decided you’d tidy things up a little bit. Sure, you were pissed off and unhappy that you’d have to be sharing your space with a total stranger all of a sudden, but you didn’t wanna feel embarrassed about a mess on top of that. Wasn’t worth fighting fire with fire.
Time felt like no object as you cleaned up; throwing laundry into your crummy little dryer, spraying down the mirror in the bathroom, vacuuming up the ash and crumbs scattered throughout the apartment floor. Before you knew it, you had looked at the clock and it was 4 PM. You had done a damn thorough job sanitizing and tidying.
Damn, I’ve been cleaning all fucking day for some dude I don’t even know. I deserve a medal for hospitality or something.
You looked over at the little coffee table, spotting your lighter.
Or maybe a couple bong rips would suffice.
Packing up the bowl tight with a nice fluffy bunch of weed, you situated yourself outside with a glass of water and got ready to get fucked. Your anxiety was starting to eat at you now that you weren’t occupied cleaning; and what better way to rid yourself of that nagging feeling then to smoke it away?
Time dragged on as you smoked an unforeseen amount of bud. Your eyelids got progressively heavier until they fell and your body gave in to much needed sleep. A sleep that would once again be crudely interrupted, as the slamming of something hitting the floor of your apartment pulled you to your feet in fear. With bloodshot, sleepy eyes you yanked the door from your balcony open and staggered inside.
“The fuck?” Your voice cracked with apparent concern and confusion. In front of the doorway of your abode stood a lanky, and clearly startled man about your age. He had dark dreads, silver eyebrow piercings, and a uniquely handsome face. You scanned him tentatively, trying to figure out in your stoned state of mind if he was a threat or not.
“Sorry, I uh, Lily gave me a key and I didn’t wanna knock in case you were asleep. I didn’t mean to scare ya like that.” He awkwardly fumbled, putting the key in his pocket before outstretching his hand. “I’m Jonathan.”
You exhaled in relief and reached your hand out to shake his. He seemed polite enough, and the fact that he was clearly nervous as well made you feel a bit better.
“Names’ Y/N. It’s cool to meet you, man.” He gripped your hand with more strength then expected. You couldn’t control your eyes. Your gaze went from up his hand to his face and down his body. Taking in his features and clothing choices the best you could. You noticed his dark, friendly eyes. There looked to be a lot of soul behind them. His decrepit black sweater and sweatpants that looked like they’ve been through purgatory. You wanted to keep staring, but didn’t wanna seem weird.
“This is a really nice place, you do a good job keeping it clean I can see.” Jonathan smiled, trying to ease the tension, earning a soft smile back. His crooked teeth caught your eye.
“Thanks. To be honest, I really don’t. I cleaned it all today, went fucking nuts with it.”
“Aww, what? Already trying to impress me and we just met, huh?” He playfully responded, making you blush a bit. Fortunately for you, it was just dim enough so that he couldn’t tell.
“Man whatever.” You laughed tiredly. “Can I help you with anything? You look like you might be strugglin’ a bit.” You looked over to his bags that had fallen all over the floor. One had busted open and his clothes had come flooding out. You noticed a pair of thigh high striped socks and garters. Interesting.
He looked behind him and sighed softly, turning back to you. “Nah, nah… Well… I hate to make this kind of first impression, but would you maybe have sumthin’ to eat? I’m fuckin’ starving.”
You nearly facepalmed. Fuck. I was supposed to go grocery shopping today.
“Shit man, I wish I could say yes. I haven’t eaten all day. I’m hungry m’self.”
“Oh fuck, well… can I buy you something to eat then? It’s like almost midnight but I can get us something from the Kwik Stop across the street.”
You smiled, a bit surprised at the offer. You would’ve said no out of courtesy since you normally don’t like when people buy things for you; but because he was moving into your space, you graciously took him up on the offer. Before leaving, you both moved his bags onto the couch and went on your way. It was pitch black outside. You hadn’t realized how long you’d been out for until he mentioned it was about midnight. Time felt weird.
The Kwik Stop was just across the road from your complex, which was empty due to the odd time of evening. On the brief walk there, you had partaken in some small talk; learning that he had come from Bakersfield, that he enjoyed music, that you both really liked The Cure. He had a very soft spoken and gentle cadence to his voice. Although you weren’t excited by any means to have to embrace a new roommate, it didn’t seem like it’d be necessarily hard to get along. In fact, you found yourself kind of attracted to him which threw you off a bit.
“Feel free to grab whatever you want, It’s on me.” He winked at you and walked off, going straight for the beers in the back. Once you both got what you wanted, you left to run back across the street. The sidelights lit your faces up dully as you waited for cars to cease passing by. "I really appreciate you getting me something to eat."
"Don't worry about it. I really appreciate you being so cool about me staying at your place. I probably would've beaten the shit out of me the way I showed up earlier." He chuckled softly. Jon's gaze was soft, his eyes looked like black holes reflecting the small amount of light emanating from the street. You met his fixed look with your own causing him to nervously glance at his feet.
"I gotta be cool with it, right? We're roommates now. If anything, I'm surprised you didn't peace out when my stoned ass came bumbling through the door at you. Was kinda embarrassing."
"Naw, it was sorta endearing." You didn't even have a moment to respond before he grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward the street. "C'mon, let's head out." He kept your wrist in his grasp as the two of you speedwalked across the road. You had been caught up staring at Jon's face rather than paying attention to the cars. He let go of you once you reached the other side. "Whew, let's fuckin' eat."
You walked up the stairs and unlocked the door to your apartment, letting you both in. Jon plopped down on the couch and instantly started ripping apart the wings he had bought. He looked up at you with full cheeks and patted the space next to him. You sat down somewhat guardedly, slurping at the slushy you got. As you both ate and drank your respective food and engaged in chitchat, it was easy to tell that sleepiness was becoming palpable. Your eyes kept fluttering closed as Jon would try to continue engaging in conversation. You had been sitting and talking for over an hour now.
"Y/N, you oughtta go to sleep." He snickered staring at you, his head in his hand. "I can tell you're exhausted."
Your eyes peeled open, dark circles encompassing them. "I guess I should. Fuck, I'm so tired. I'm sorry. I wanted to try and vibe a bit more but-"
"Go to bed. We'll have plenty of time to talk tomorrow. I just like your company, it's why I won't shut the fuck up." A sleepy smile plastered on his face. You groggily got up and made your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth before passing out on your bed. Too tired to change out of your day clothes, but not too tired to unplug your alarm clock.
As the next couple days and weeks passed, you and Jonathan got to know each other better. Developing a friendship where you could be both serious when necessary, but poke fun at each other as well. You took space when you needed it but found that you both enjoyed each other's energy. Jon became more talkative as the days went on, and the two of you found it easy to intently listen to each other. He had told you about the band he was in and how they're working on their first album; even invited you to their next rehearsal. You were becoming somewhat close pretty fast. It'd been a bit difficult to continue suppressing the full on crush you developed on him throughout your time together. You kept covering it up by teasing and making fun of him in subtle, friendly ways. He did the same, but you assumed it was his way of being friendly.
In the midst of a pretty serious conversation about childhood and the lyricism behind the songs Jon had been working on with his bandmates; you ended up disclosing the fact that you're trans to him. You had gathered from multiple discussions and his experience with being perceived as queer that he wouldn't be distasteful about it. Fortunately, you were right. He found it to be very interesting and admirable. You were the first trans person he'd met. He was very open to being educated on the subject. Every now and then a new question will pop into his mind that he'll ask you; some a bit invasive, but all in a genuine attempt to better understand and sympathize with you. You came to learn he was a very open minded individual. After you came out to him, he insisted on giving you an almost uncomfortably long hug. Almost, but more than anything it was a very meaningful gesture. Ever since then, you found yourselves embracing and having sentimental moments a little more often. It was nice to finally have somebody to confide in about your personal life and vice versa. Friends, dates, socializing in general hadn't exactly been a tangible thing since you moved away from home.
At this point, it had been about a couple weeks since he had initially moved in. At the end of a very long workday, you had planned to head over to the Kwik Stop together and grab slushies. This time, on you. Work hadn't ended until 9:30, which left you getting back to the apartment around 10 PM. Jonathan was waiting eagerly when you got back. The moment you opened up the door, he sprung up from the couch and walked over to you. “Let’s get outta here!” He pushed past you, grabbing your wrist and tugging you along. He got into the habit of dragging you places by your wrist like that. You didn’t get the chance to even say hello, let alone change out of your work clothes.
After picking out your ridiculous sized slushies, you headed back to the apartment and finally had the opportunity to change into something more comfortable. You grabbed a random oversized t-shirt and pair of sweats from the dryer, swiftly throwing them on before exiting your room to join Jon on the couch. Looking up at him, you noticed a cheeky smile plastered on his face.
You sneered, raising an eyebrow. "What's your damage?"
"Nothing. You're just wearing my shit." He pointed a finger at you, still smirking. He proceeded to take an obnoxiously loud sip from his drink, not breaking eye contact. You looked down at the clothes you had mindlessly tossed on to find he was right.
"Oh, uh, shit. My bad. I thought-I didn't even realize. I'll go change real quick."
"You shouldn't. It looks good on you." He very obviously scanned you up and down. A hot blush spread rapidly across your face. You both locked eyes for a few silent moments before he spoke again. "You're turning red."
"Man shut the fuck up." You sputtered out, flustered and unable to hide the smile on your face. "That's gay as hell." You were never very good at accepting compliments.
"That ain't a problem with me." Jon snickered and bit his lip looking quite satisfied with himself. You plopped next to him on the couch and flipped the television on. Out of the corner of your eye while channel surfing, he was making it pretty apparent that he was gawking at you. You had your gaze fixated on the tv and tried to play it cool; despite your heartbeat growing louder in your ears. Jonathan interrupted your aimless search for something to watch by letting you know he had a VHS tape he wanted to show you. You hesitantly agreed as he sprung up and grabbed it from one of his bags, popping it into the player.
"It's called Cannibal Holocaust." He casually sat back down, a little closer to you then before.
"Jonathan, what the actual fuck are you making me watch right now?"
"Don't worry, it's all fake. Mostly. If you get scared, I'll protect you." He playfully patted your head and chuckled, turning his face towards the screen. Every time he touched you, whether it was a tiny tap, a hug, a fist bump, a gentle hand on your waist to get by you; it always made butterflies arise in your stomach. As the movie played on, you found yourself progressively more disturbed and unsettled. Every now and then, Jon would turn his head toward you to check your reactions. You thought it was pretty cute, but with him doing so, felt compelled to try and force a stone-faced expression. That was, until a particular scene involving a turtle shocked your system.
"OH SHIT!" You jumped in disgust and fear, spilling your giant, now melted slushie all over the couch. Jon couldn't help but laugh out loud.
"You fucking weirdo, where are you gonna sleep tonight now?" you snapped in a mildly annoyed tone. He wiped a tear from his eye from laughter, glancing down at the sticky mess.
"Damn... Guess I'll curl up on the floor?" He got up to go grab paper towels from the counter. You took a deep breath and got up to turn the VHS player off. You felt a little bad for raising your voice at him.
"Nah, nah. I'm sorry, that was totally my fault. You can sleep in my bed... I-I wouldn't mind."
He gladly accepted as you both proceeded to get ready to go to sleep. Brushing your teeth, setting up his one pillow and bracing yourself for what you hoped to be a casual, non awkward evening. He walked into your room from the bathroom with nothing but a pair of dramatically short, tattered boxers on. You couldn't help but gawk at his figure; he was so much hairier than you imagined. Almost made your mouth water. He excitedly crawled under the covers next to you and faced you, a cheesy grin on his face.
"Taking it to the next level now, are we?" He winked.
"You're dumb." You laughed tiredly. Your faces were inches away, causing you both to subtly turn red. "You've been acting so gay lately."
"Yeah yeah, haw haw, Imma fag... Can you blame me? We've been spending so much time together. I'm starting to like- well I dunno. Nevermind. We gotta sleep." He closed his eyes and began cartoonishly snoring. 'Honk shoo, honk shoo'. It made you snicker.
"No, you can't do that, Jon. Tell me what you were gonna say. I promise I won't be a douchebag about it." You inched closer, getting in his face. Your mutual sleepiness causing your walls to come down a bit. He opened one eye, lips curling into a smile seeing you so close to him.
"I don't wanna make things weird, Y/N. We're sleeping in the same bed tonight." The anticipation of waiting for him to say what you thought he was going to was killing you. You were both sweating. A brief stretch of silent thought ensued until you interjected.
"You have a crush on me or something?" You tried to keep a casual, somewhat playful tone, but your voice came out shaky. His eyes bulged a bit, looking away from you. He sighed dramatically.
"You know, I played that movie kinda hoping that you'd get scared and like, grab my hand or want me to put my arm around you or something. I didn't expect you to dump liquid diabetes all over the couch... and now we're laying in the same bed... and I feel more awkward about telling you this then I thought I would..." He trailed off hesitantly. You hadn't even realized you'd been holding your breath since he started talking.
"Just say it." You impatiently spat out. His eyes fixed back onto yours, both of you using the blanket to cover your faces from the nose down.
He laughed awkwardly; "Peer pressure... I think I've made it obvious enough, right?... I really like you. Like, I'm crushin' on you a fuckton. I think you're really fuckin' cute, Y/N." He almost whispered out. Your smile stretched across your face so wide that your eyes squinted almost completely. You saw the smile in his eyes as well, as you both remained stuck in each other's gazes. You couldn't come up with a response due to your surprise and the surgency of emotions. Time seemed to stretch on forever as you affectionately stared into one another's gazes. Jon hummed thoughtfully to himself, debating on whether or not to interject the silence.
"Can I kiss you?" Jon softly asked. You nodded your head enthusiastically, prompting him to scoot closer to you until your lips weren't even a centimeter apart. He placed a gentle hand on the side of your face and leaned in, placing a tender, somewhat quick kiss on your lips. You couldn't hold back your childish giggle.
"So I take it I didn't make things weird?" He chuckled, caressing your cheek with his thumb.
"No, no. I'm actually really happy you said something. I'm kinda surprised. I uh, I like you too. A lot. If that wasn't apparent... and yeah, I also think you're cute. Very cute." You made the bold, sleep deprived decision to move your hand onto his bare waist, making him slightly twitch in pleasant surprise.
"Careful now. You're gonna give me a boner."
"Man you're so fucking dumb." The both of you laughed as you gave him a light, playful slap on the cheek. The rest of the night was spent sprinkling soft kisses on each other's faces and lazily making out. The romantic tension that had been building finally burst with your mutual confessions. Jon kept trying to spoon you throughout the evening, but in your exhausted state, you couldn't help but toss and turn. Every now and then, you'd feel a kiss on the back of your neck, or his hand resting on your waist. You could tell already that touch was his love language. Before you finally fell asleep, you ended up having to accept your nightly fate of being swallowed up in his arms. His chest hair tickled the back of your neck as he kept you pressed up against him. It was a much safer and cozy feeling then you were expecting. You had never felt so comfortable with the touch of another person before. It was one of the most restful, satisfying nights' sleep you had since you could remember.
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theawkwardterrier · 4 months
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Have Yourself a Scheming Little Christmas
The big reveal of my fic for @steggyfanevents's Steggy Secret Santa, especially for @lavellenchanted! December has been a big and busy month so I fell down on my Santa-ing a bit along the way, Sarah, but I hope that you enjoy some family and fluff here and have a wonderful holiday, a delightful end of 2023, and a great beginning to 2024!
Summary: Natasha's dad seems like he might need someone in his life. So does Sharon's Aunt Peggy. Luckily, they have two smart and savvy matchmakers to help them along the way.
AO3 link here.
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Natasha wouldn't say that her father is sad, exactly. He doesn't spend all his time crying like the preschool kids do when their parents leave at drop off or someone pushes them down on the playground, after all, and he smiles when he watches her in her ballet shows and cheers for her when it's her turn at bat during baseball season (he might be the coach and cheer for everyone, but Nat thinks that he sounds just a tiny bit louder when she's up). Their apartment is clean and warm, and Dad makes her laugh with stories from his work and is always getting better at cooking, even if they do end up ordering takeout at least once a week.
Still, sometimes when she turns back to him before he notices that she’s watching or she's up to go to the bathroom in the night and sees him awake, he’s gazing into his mug or at the TV screen with this certain look. It reminds her of back when she was in foster care, that feeling of sitting in her room listening to the family laughing and talking while she was behind the wall. It makes her think, too, of Uncle Bucky: that staring, empty sort of face he sometimes gets, ever since she can remember, the one that Dad says is because of the war. Dad was in the war too, but a long time ago, and Nat doesn't think that he is sad because of that.
Dad might not talk about why he's sad, but there are hints, like how he tucked his hands into his pockets at Parent Night in October every time he talked to a pair of parents together and it was just him standing alone. Or like how they were in the park one day, and she was petting a puppy, and as she stood up, Dad's face was full of that look, just from watching the way that the puppy's owners were standing super close, holding each other's waists. And just like there are hints about what might be making him sad, there are hints about what might make him happy. She and Dad almost always get to school at the same time in the mornings, and the same kids are almost always getting dropped off then too, and Dad almost always starts glancing across the path in the same way at the same person, and the look on his face makes Nat think that if she saw it on a worksheet, she would mark it as the opposite of that nighttime look.
Nat might not know exactly what it is that is making him sad, but she decides that she is going to fix it. She is going to make him happy.
And to do that, she is going to need a partner, so she can get him his.
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When she came to live in Brooklyn last year, Aunt Peggy told Sharon that she didn't know exactly what she was doing or why Daddy had decided that she was the right person to come take care of Sharon after he died, but that they would do their best and would always be honest with one another and would figure things out together so they would both be happy.
That has, Sharon feels, worked for the most part, but it is hard to be honest with someone else about your happiness when you aren't being honest with yourself. This is what she reminds herself when Aunt Peggy responds to Sharon's probing with a laugh and a quick, "I'm perfectly satisfied with you, my work, and everything in my life, thank you." She might not be lying to Sharon on purpose, but that doesn't mean it isn't a lie anyway.
So she is quite prepared to accept when Nat Rogers from the other class comes up to her in the line for the swings during recess on the first Tuesday in December and asks, "Are you available to come over after school sometime this week? I think that your aunt and my dad have something in common."
Aunt Peggy doesn't need to beg for attention, and Sharon won't either. Watching Betty's pumping legs on the swing, she says casually back, "Is it that they both want to be dating but they won't do anything about it?"
She likes Nat more for neither squealing nor stomping off in a huff at having her surprise spoiled, but instead saying calmly, "I assume that if you’re already aware, that means we can arrange something?"
Even though it's probably a good sign that she and Nat, both pretty smart people, had the same idea; and even though Sharon saw the way that Aunt Peggy smiled as she and Natasha's dad talked on the phone to arrange their "playdate" but also noticed the way she carefully kept her smile out of her voice; and even though Sharon finds herself approving of Mr. Rogers, who tells her to call him Steve and clearly drew the picture of him and Natasha that's framed on the bedside table in her room...even with all that, it isn't until she suggests that they get Nat's tablet to write out their plan and Nat tells her that the rule is that she isn't allowed to have much tablet time, especially when friends are over and they aren't doing schoolwork because "my dad thinks it limits my imagination," which is almost exactly the same thing that Aunt Peggy always says, that Sharon actually believes this might work.
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It is not a hard sell at all to get Dad to take her to the ice rink at Prospect Park. Their weekends are usually filled with outings, even if it's just errands, but Dad's been especially busy getting orders ready over the past few weeks, plus they went over to Uncle Bucky’s last weekend.
“I’m sorry we haven’t spent much time just the two of us lately, kiddo,” Dad says as they tie on their skates, and Nat laces hers tight and doesn’t feel at all guilty that as long as Sharon held up her end of the deal, it won’t be just the two of them for long.
She does a few jumps and glides around the ice, choreographing to her ballet music in her head, and right at the dramatic flourish, Sharon enters the rink, with her aunt behind her.
Natasha has taken the time to study Peggy Carter before, calculating the meaning of her purposeful stride and perfectly done lipstick during the mornings and afternoons at school or at Parent Night. Still, she notes approvingly today that she is wearing a nice black peacoat and a scarf that is the same color as Dad’s eyes that is looped easily around her neck and corresponds perfectly with her hair and skin, and that she looks graceful and competent on the ice. Taking a deep breath, Nat puts the first step of the plan into action.
“Hi, Sharon!” She skates toward her quickly, knowing that Dad will follow without thinking or noticing who she is skating toward, just to keep an eye on her.
"Slow down, Nat," she hears from behind her, and then an oof!
Dad would never say no to her if she wanted to go to the rink, but he isn't exactly as skilled as she is. Uncle Bucky has always said that Dad has "two left feet and probably a couple of left hands too," especially when he's nervous...and seeing Ms. Carter is definitely the type of thing that would make him nervous.
She and Sharon reach out and grab each other's hands, catching eyes as they listen to the conversation behind them.
"Are you alright there, Mr. Rogers?"
"Ms. Carter...!" Dad gives a sort of wince-laugh. "Could have done without face-planting in front of everyone in Brooklyn, but I'll get over it."
"She's almost laughing," Sharon whispers in shock, glancing at the pair of them over Nat's shoulder, and Nat feels a little zing of triumph – all this time, Sharon was going along with the plan without the belief in it that she has – but of course she does not let that show on her face.
"I believe you did the opposite of a face-plant, if you don't mind my saying so," says Ms. Carter, and now Natasha can hear the laughter in her voice, although it is very proper laughter if she says so herself. That's okay; it sounds like it would match pretty well with Dad's crinkle-eyed smiles. "May I help you up?"
"I'd say that I'd only take that offer if you were really firm on your feet, but I can see that you are and I don't think you'd just ask to be polite."
"Right on two counts. Now give me your hand."
Nat and Sharon skate back over to quickly say that they're going to go around the rink together.
"Safely," Dad warns. "We'll be watching, and I think that Ms. Carter, at least, could get over to bust you in a half a minute if I wasn't holding her back."
"Probably less," Ms. Carter says, but as Nat and Sharon skate away, Nat notices that she has still not let go of his hand – and it doesn’t seem like it’s much about keeping him upright at this point.
She does finally let him go later, as they all agree to walk over for cocoa together (something that would probably have taken a lot longer if Nat wasn't there to push Dad past all of his stumbling, "If you aren't busy, and I don't know whether you or Sharon have any dietary restrictions, and we're happy to let you pick the spot if you have somewhere you like" and might not have happened at all if Ms. Carter had done less standing there with slightly amused patience and more making excuses to leave in the fact of what Nat considers his awkwardness) but she also, it seems, is walking very close to him, much closer than two new friends on a sidewalk would need to be, even if they are making sure to catch every word from each other among the crowds.
When they get to her and Dad’s favorite diner, Mr. Phillips seems to know Ms. Carter — “I’d ask why you were hanging around with this reprobate, Carter, but you’ve got quite the degenerate streak yourself,” he says as he gets their menus and drops crayons and his latest hand-written set of mazes and puzzles on the table for Sharon and Nat, although he pretends he isn’t doing it, just like he pretends that he didn’t add extra whipped cream or mint sprinkles to their mugs of cocoa when they come. Natasha likes that, when she asks what a reprobate is, Ms. Carter doesn’t tell her she’s too young for it to matter; instead she defines the word and writes it down in big clear letters on Nat’s paper. Dad seems to like that too, smiling down into his mug, even if it means that he ends up with a bit of whipped cream all over his top lip and Ms. Carter leans over the table to gently wipe it off with her thumb.
They end up staying past just cocoa, Dad and Ms. Carter sitting in the inside seats of the red vinyl booth across from each other and talking for so long that Angie comes over with her pad and offers to get something started for dinner. Nat and Sharon glance at each other, seeming to agree that no matter what had been said about the seating arrangements being so “the girls” could have easy access to slide out to examine the dessert case or to help Mr. Phillips with combining the ketchup bottles, it was really so they would be able to laugh about Dad’s design clients and the other lawyers Ms. Carter works with or to watch each other gesturing as they talk about important but boring things like the school board and “the political situation.”
She and Sharon also seem to agree, Nat thinks as she twirls some pasta on her fork and Sharon bites into her tuna melt, that the first step of the plan has gone just how they wanted.
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"Oh good," Aunt Peggy says, holding up a book called Recipes for Feeding Demons. "I think that this will be a helpful guide for Dottie Underwood." She glances at the cover again thoughtfully, then adds with some sourness, "Although I suppose that it might encourage her to believe that I'm interested in her well-being."
Sharon reaches over to take it and add it to the pile they've already made of intended books for friends, coworkers, and their small amount of remaining family. "At school they say that if you don’t have anything nice to say, you shouldn’t say anything at all,” she comments.
“I suppose they’re right,” Aunt Peggy says, paging through a copy of Chicken Soup for the Soul at Work that Sharon thinks might end up wrapped on Jack Thompson’s desk tomorrow; Sharon is familiar with him because there are always amusing stories about the other lawyers at Aunt Peggy’s firm, although fewer and fewer these days and more frowns and looking at documents on her laptop with pursed lips. “As much as I support being direct and honest and not holding back your opinion in most circumstances, keeping quiet can be a very effective way of making certain that the other person doesn’t sense your true feelings and allowing you to maintain the upper hand.”
“I guess if I was trying to find some Sun Tzu, you would be the right person to ask, huh?”
Sharon looks over, face showing careful surprise to see an amused Steve standing behind Aunt Peggy’s shoulder in the aisle of their favorite local bookshop, just one of dozens of fellow holiday shoppers crammed into the space. Nat joins him a minute later, holding a couple of graphic novels in one arm. Sharon approves of that casualness. They’d known it would be a little risky for her to try to get her dad to work a present-buying excursion into their plans for the day – he might have gotten wind that something was afoot if Nat too steadfastly refused to take no for an answer, but since they're regulars, it would have been even more suspicious for her to hover around once they'd arrived and give any appearance of trying to guide him anywhere in particular in the store or of this being in any way more than an average visit.
"Steve," says Aunt Peggy, turning in surprise and even seeming to flush just a little across her cheekbones. It's actually nice to see, Sharon thinks, pretending to straighten their book pile while giving Natasha a subtle thumbs up. Over the past few weeks, as her aunt and Steve have found more and more reasons to have them all spend time together in the afternoons and evenings and over the weekends, they’ve gotten more and more comfortable with each other, but knowing that Aunt Peggy still has that flash of excitement when seeing him tells Sharon that she’s made the right choice. The couple of times that her aunt has had dates since coming to Brooklyn, Aunt Peggy has been really careful to be her most shiny and controlled self. There’s a lot about that self to admire, sure, but it’s a lot nicer to see the real Aunt Peggy allowing herself to peek through, that little bit of vulnerability but also ease. She doesn’t do some sort of quick maneuver to spruce up the old jeans and sweater that she’s wearing, or try to cover up her pleased little double take. It’s equally nice to see Steve blushing a little in return, pinkening his smiling cheeks.
“It’s good to see you two,” he says quickly, tucking his hands into his pockets. “I’m glad that Nat had the idea to come here to pick up a few last minute gifts.”
"Funny, Sharon had the same thought," says Aunt Peggy, casting a glance at her, and Sharon smiles before digging into her pocket for one of the candy canes they'd had in a bowl at the counter. She tries to unwrap the plastic as if her heart hasn't suddenly picked up rhythm at the thought that sharp-minded Aunt Peggy might be realizing that it isn't all coincidence. But, as Sharon sticks the sweet into her mouth, her aunt turns back to Steve and adds, "I suppose our girls' great minds think alike."
"I'd say that we could get some credit for that, or at least for sending them to a good school, but I think it's all them."
Aunt Peggy puts her hand on his arm, an unexpectedly tender look on her face, and Sharon freezes a little; there's something about the moment that makes her wonder if there's about to be some comment made about how Steve has already done far more for his daughter than he gives himself credit for. Natasha had mentioned – just quickly, so that Sharon would barely even remember it except for the careful way that she had relaxed her jaw, which probably would have misled most other people but just made Sharon more alert – how much she dislikes people talking about her adoption like her dad is just doing charity work, like Nat's presence in his life is some huge burden or something he should get endless gold stars for enduring.
"We're certainly lucky to have them, just as they are," Aunt Peggy says instead, as the whittled pinprick end of the candy cane accidentally stabs at Sharon's tongue and she holds back a yelp to listen. "But I've seen bits of you in Natasha as well."
The two of them are making long eye contact. Steve's hand comes up to cover Aunt Peggy's where it rests against his forearm. Sharon very purposefully does not grin around her candy.
"Luckily the hair isn’t one of them," says Nat. Sharon wants to glare at her but channels it by chomping down and filling her mouth with peppermint shards, because the bubble of quiet that they had existed in so briefly disappears, the noise and chaos of a Saturday afternoon nearing Christmas rushing back over them with Nat’s flippant tone. "I don't know that he could pull it off."
Aunt Peggy replies, "Oh, I’m not certain I agree. I think he has at least a chance of managing with that color, even if it wouldn't be as lovely as it is on you," but her voice sounds normal now, teasing but confident rather than close and confiding the way it was a minute ago. She turns to Steve and asks, "What else will you two be up to today?"
Steve's smile somehow seems to have shifted from the gentle, private light it showed a minute ago. It just looks like a regular grown-up small talk smile now, the same way that Aunt Peggy's question sounded. But he says easily, "We're going to drop the books at home along the way to the holiday party that my best friend's family is throwing. They like to have it far enough in advance that no one's started traveling yet, no one's in a complete last-minute panic over gift-buying, and it might even actually overlap with some of the holidays that aren’t Christmas – practically half of the people in their neighborhood show up, so they want to give as many people as possible a chance to come.” With a tiny extra pause, a little blink and a deep breath, he adds, “I’d—I’m sure they’d love to meet you if you have the time to join us."
Aunt Peggy laughs, half-thoughtful. “Your friend wouldn’t happen to be a member of the Barnes family, would he?”
“You know Uncle Bucky?”
It is not until she hears Natasha's question, the truly surprised and curious blurt of it, that Sharon recognizes that her earlier comment had not been simply making conversation or trying in some misguided way to move things along to the next phase; it had been Nat, after all, who had suggested that the party would be a good next step, a way to push things from accidental run-ins and purposeful but casual dinners together. Between the bright embrace of Nat’s extended family and the assured presence of mistletoe that Steve and Aunt Peggy might just so happen to find themselves beneath, it would be the right setting to move things from falling to fell. But between their consultation during lunch three days ago and now, something seems to have happened.
It seems that she is not the only one to have realized the difference in Nat’s tone – Steve glances down at his daughter with his brow creased – and there is a slight slowness to Aunt Peggy's words as she says, "I only know Bucky himself by reputation, I’m afraid. His mother was my realtor when I was looking for somewhere that would be a mutually positive living situation for Sharon and myself when I relocated to Brooklyn, and she was kind enough to show me around the neighborhood afterward and tell me about life here."
She shifts so she is facing Sharon. "What would you think about coming along with Steve and Natasha for the party? I think it would be nice to see Winnifred again, but it's up to you. I know that you might have had other plans for how you wanted to spend the afternoon."
"You don't have to if you don't want to," says Natasha, like she honestly couldn’t care one way or the other and isn’t pretending to be casual anymore, but Sharon ignores her.
As much as she misses Daddy and despite the little burn of guilt at the thought that her current life is only possible because he died, this is one of the things that Sharon likes about living with Aunt Peggy. She has no problem putting her foot down or making rules when needed, but she also treats Sharon like her own person, someone whose opinions and desires and feelings should count equally to those of any grownup.
It's moments like this that remind her all over again about why she is working to make sure Aunt Peggy gets the things that she wants too.
"Do you think we should bring a gift to the party?" she asks, and Aunt Peggy and Steve smile in unison.
"What were you doing back there?" Sharon hisses to Nat as they walk ahead; the conversation behind them has moved from a lively and distracting description of some updates to a project that one of Steve's clients had tried to demand at the last minute over to a more serious discussion of something happening at Aunt Peggy’s work – something about “irregularities” and “starting to suspect malfeasance,” which sounds like just the sort of adult thing to keep them distracted so there isn't much danger of Nat and Sharon’s planning being overheard. "For a minute I thought they might even kiss right in the aisle, and then you blew it."
"I didn't blow it," Nat says, facing ahead. "I changed my mind."
Sharon almost stops walking. "Changed your—What are you talking about? Why?"
"My dad...My dad really likes your aunt. And I know you say that your aunt likes him back, but I don't think it's the same thing. I saw how he was looking at her back there. I think that he really likes her, and if that first plan had worked out and they had gotten together, his feelings could have ended up getting really hurt."
The sound of the words first plan and Nat’s use of the past tense echoes alongside their footsteps on the cold sidewalk. "My aunt wouldn't hurt his feelings," Sharon says, quiet but staunch, crossing her arms over her chest, although it's difficult in her puffy coat. "And you should have thought of all that in the first place. You're the one who started all of this!"
"And now I'm cancelling it. So don't think of trying to do something at the party. I've got cousins' eyes everywhere."
The coldness and finality in her tone does not scare Sharon, but it does mean that she needs a chance to regroup and gather any allies and resources as she makes a plan B. She's pretty sure that the party would have been a lot of fun and the perfect next milestone for Aunt Peggy and Steve to start moving toward dating if not the moment that got them there, but instead she hangs at the edges of the crowd, avoiding Aunt Peggy's eyes and brushing off Steve's questions and trying to pretend that everything is okay so that they don't delve any deeper, so that they have fun with Bucky and Winnifred and the rest of the Barnes family who seem to like Aunt Peggy a lot, so that she might salvage at least a little bit of the future that she and—that she has been working toward, even if she has to do it alone.
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Natasha wouldn't say that her father is sad, exactly.
So maybe he doesn't smile in that certain, slanted kind of way that he did when looking at Ms. Carter. And maybe he goes to bed early instead of chatting on the phone with her about planning things for them to do together, and then about all sorts of other stuff until really late so that he’s yawning as he comes to wake her up for school the next morning. And maybe he just quietly boxes up the leftovers at dinner because it was just the two of them instead of four and Ms. Carter wasn’t there to tease him or stand next to him at the counter as they both tried to chop things.
Okay, so maybe he is a little sad.
She asks him directly as she sets the table a few days after the party why he hadn’t just invited the Carters over if he wanted to see them. And he had looked at her with that Dad look of his and said, his tone even more gentle in comparison to her tight one that she couldn’t quiet help, “It seemed like you and Sharon might have had a fight, so I didn’t want to make things harder for you.”
“You aren’t going to make me apologize?” She makes herself look at him as she says it, even though she wants to look down at the forks in her hand.
He looks back, with only the littlest raise of his eyebrow at the demanding tone. “I trust that if you’re having a problem with a friend, there’s a reason for it, and that you’ll make the right choice to apologize if you need to, to forgive her, or to decide that your friendship is over.” He steps over and places a kiss on her head. “That’s the kind of thing that we do for the people we love, Nat,” he says softly against her hair. “We trust them.”
As she lies in bed that night, Nat, pinching the twisty worm of guilt tunneling through her insides, thinks about choices, and about trust. Yes, Dad might get hurt from being with Ms. Carter, but maybe he won’t. Maybe she should trust that Ms. Carter will be careful with him, or that even if something does happen, Dad will be glad to have been with her anyway for as long as it might last.
One of the things that Dad taught her, first as his foster kid and now as his kid, is that we can look for people to be good instead of assuming that they won’t be. She decides to try that now, decides that she will talk to Sharon in the morning.
Even if her father isn’t sad, that doesn’t mean he can’t be happier. If not seeing Ms. Carter is already hurting him, maybe Natasha was right in the first place about what he needs and what she needs to do to get it for him.
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Sharon had been a little bit surprised that Steve and Natasha don’t have huge Christmas Eve plans; there seemed to be infinite relatives at the party, all hugging them and laughing, part of the sort of enormous family that she has only seen on TV or in movies, where they would all gather and watch some holiday classic and fall asleep in a big pile so they could wake up to open presents all together the next morning.
She is, however, far more surprised when Natasha comes over to her at school two days before Christmas and says that she was wrong to try to stop their plan and that she is ready to finish things.
“And how do I know you won’t back out again?” Sharon looks out across the playground, only flicking her eyes back in tiny darts to catch glimpses of Nat.
“You just believe, I guess, the same way that you do with anything about other people,” Nat says simply. “But also…If your aunt has been anything like my dad over the past few days, you’ll be willing to take the risk.”
Sharon looks at her fully now, red hair glinting metallic under the afternoon sun covering the playground despite the cold, face not overly apologetic but certainly determined. She thinks of Aunt Peggy, the way that over the last few days she had more than once picked up her phone to check for messages or to start sending one herself before placing it forcefully back down again, how dinner was somewhat lackluster because although they were back to eating good takeout, Aunt Peggy carefully cut and ate each bite as if programmed and as if she wasn’t enjoying it half as much as she would choking down whatever Steve had made recently, the way she would go back into her home office to work afterward because Steve wasn’t there to prod her into playing a board game together or talk about whatever was happening at work that was adding to her mood.
“Fine.” She crosses her arms and Nat does the same, the two of them scanning over the other kids on the playground. “What did you have in mind?”
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The sleepover, they decide, will be at Natasha’s house. Sharon offers all sorts of logical reasons for this — Dad and Nat have a TV for showing movies while the Carters mostly watch things on their laptops and tablets, and the couch is smaller which will make it easier to box Dad and Ms. Carter into squishing together during the evening — and Nat doesn’t say that she suspects that, more than anything, it is because their place is simply cozier. She knows what it feels like to have those sorts of tender things which you don’t want to speak about, and exactly how much it means to come into the apartment and see the fridge with her papers and projects magneted firmly to the front and the walls covered in the paint that they picked out together after Nat’s adoption was finalized and the coffee table chest filled with Dad’s handmade afghans that anyone can curl under.
They had assumed that their careful planning would ensure that Ms. Carter wouldn’t just drop Sharon off and leave, but instead it is Dad. Even in the face of her laughing remarks that allowing herself a quiet bubble bath and a new coat of nail polish on Christmas Eve will be a treat, he says a soft and simple, “Peggy. You should stay with us,” and she actually does.
There are times during the evening that Natasha forgets that this is all part of the plan. Between decorating cookies, trying to play some games together (Pictionary in particular is a hilarious disaster, because Dad is very good and that makes Ms. Carter turn grumpy in the most steely and genteel way) and watching the argument between Dad and Ms. Carter about the best Christmas movies and which classic songs should simply be tossed out, it’s all just so much fun.
Originally they had planned to keep things going until it was late enough that Dad would be simply forced by politeness to ask her to stay, but the weather lends them a hand, the snow coming down in heavy flakes and with heavier gusts as the night wears on. Sharon’s hand clenches slightly in silent victory on the rug in front of them when it is Ms. Carter who comments, stretching as the credits of It’s a Wonderful Life roll on the screen, that she wishes she’d remembered her gloves for the walk home. Dad practically trips over himself inviting her to spend the night.
Instead of having that sleepover sort of excitement, the important sense of showing someone else your space and everything about your routine just being a little more when seen through the eyes of a friend, Natasha finds that getting ready for bed mostly just feels…comfortable. She and Sharon brush their teeth while listening to the sounds of the dinner dishes being cleared up, the voices of the grown-ups rising and falling peaceably around the rush of water and clink of silverware and shutting of cupboards as the dried dishes are put away.
Even though she knows that Sharon isn’t the sort to need to call home to say goodnight or to fuss about glasses of water and nightlights to avoid having to go to sleep in a strange place, there is something particularly cozy about two familiar faces framed in the doorway checking to make certain that they are sleepily settled in Natasha’s room. And although it could easily feel uncomfortable to have the usual night sounds of the apartment outside suddenly different, enhanced by an unfamiliar presence alongside her father, Nat finds herself relaxing into the humming murmur of conversation from beyond the door, so much so that it is only seeking out the triumphant glint of Sharon’s eyes in the almost-dark which keeps her awake enough to sneak out as the clock ticks over near midnight.
“That’s a tough thing,” Dad is saying as the two girls creep over to hide behind the sofa. The living room is lit only by the table lamps and the little bulbs wrapped around the Christmas tree where they are carefully setting gifts; even if they are too old for Santa tales, there’s something nice about traditions. “That’s a tough thing, Peg. You’ve already had a big year, losing your brother, moving across the ocean, taking responsibility for Sharon. Leaving your job over this would be hard — the financial issues, not to mention that bit of stability.”
“You say that as if you wouldn’t feel disappointed to find that I’d stayed at the firm after what I’ve found out,” she says, in return, smoothing some errant corner of wrapping paper with a firm hand. Despite her cut-glass diction and attempted humor, there is a bit of a question mark beneath that even the girls can hear wavering in the air.
But Dad shakes his head immediately. “I say that as someone who knows that whatever you decide, it will be the right choice for you both.”
“Ridiculous man,” she says, and Nat knows as she meets Sharon’s wide eyes that she has noticed the shake of tears in her aunt’s voice and that she hadn’t expected it either.
“Sure. Although not for this.”
When Dad touches her cheek gently, Nat has the immediate feeling that she should look away. But she reaches out a hand and grips Sharon’s instead, the two of them holding what suddenly feels like their shared breath. “I’ve seen the kind of person you are, Peggy. I’ve seen how smart you are — sharp as hell, six steps ahead and around the corner from everyone else — and how strong and certain and self-reliant. I’ve seen the way that you care for Sharon. There’s no one whose judgment I would trust more.”
“Well.” Somehow Ms. Carter makes even shifting herself forward on the floor surrounded by pine needles and presents look elegant, even with that remaining vulnerability there too. “Coming from a deeply kind and upstanding and moral man, and the best father I know, that means quite a lot.” And then she leans that last bit and presses her mouth to his.
Nat is certain that the small, excited squeak did not come from her, but based on Sharon’s matching warning look, she is equally disavowing being the source. Through some silent, mutual agreement, they decide to chalk it up to a mysterious but necessary atmospheric venting of joy at this moment and turn their attention back.
“What about the girls?” Dad asks as he and Ms. Carter part. “I don’t think that I can just kiss you, or just do it once, and they’ve both had it hard. If we started something…” but Nat notices that he does not move away and that he has her fingers still held in his, their hands twined and tucked snug between their chests.
Ms. Carter smiles, bright-edged and knowing by the blurry holiday lights. “Somehow I have the feeling that they won’t precisely mind,” she says, and when he leans forward to kiss her again despite his quizzical expression, Nat and Sharon take the opportunity to crawl away, exchanging a triumphant nod.
When they get back to Nat’s bedroom, hearing the low laughter still coming from the living room, they cannot help but high five as well for a job well done, a successful plan, the future that they made for all of them together.
(And if perhaps Ms. Carter clued in somewhere along the way, well, they couldn’t really expect to make it through without that happening, could they?)
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Sharon should be sleeping. December has been so packed: between all their usual traditions – skating, sledding, peppermint cocoa at the diner, buying gifts at the bookstore, the annual Barnes family party, decorating the tree and the apartment – and their move this year into the new place (which Winnifred Barnes had called “a steal,” Aunt Peggy had called “quite reasonable,” and Steve had referred to as “a travesty that would be solved by rent control”), by Christmas Eve she’s honestly exhausted. But something woke her and she can’t quite get back to sleep, so she finally gets up to go get a drink from the kitchen.
She passes Nat’s room on the way down the hall, smiling at the small picture of the four of them together which her sister had stuck up on the door. As she nears the living room, there’s a small sound that makes her freeze. For a moment she wonders if one of their gifts this year actually is the cat they’ve been asking for, but as she slowly turns her head, she finds that Aunt Peggy and Steve – probably tired out too from all the activity, Aunt Peggy’s work with the new firm, and the slow way they were turning in a circle together before the girls went to bed – are asleep and breathing deeply on the sofa together; it’s the bigger one from their old apartment but they’re still cuddled together, Aunt Peggy’s head on Steve’s shoulder and his tipping over hers as the bulbs from the Christmas tree illuminate them, tiny and glowing.
“Better get back to bed,” Nat says softly from behind her, and somehow she isn’t surprised to hear her there. “You don’t want to be too tired tomorrow to appreciate Peggy rating Dad’s attempt at the full English breakfast.”
“I could never be too tired for that,” Sharon says with a little laugh, but she is actually feeling sleepy again, so she turns and follows Nat down the hall, glancing over her shoulder one last time at their parents, all ready for another Christmas together.
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skyloftian-nutcase · 1 year
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Hmm.... How about some Hero of Twilight headcannons too?
-🦆
I think everyone knows I have this one, but Link has a country accent. During his adventure he noticed people’s reactions to it, ranging from confusion and not understanding him to downright thinking he’s an idiot, so he started trying to downplay his accent and masks it pretty well after a while. It comes out full force when he’s emotional, whether that’s angry or sad or excited.
He enjoys being around others, but he’s happiest when he’s with animals. He could go a whole day without interacting with people and be ok, but a whole day without animals and he’s sad.
He feels very deeply and just doesn’t know how to express it, so it sometimes it makes him the sweetest ray of sunshine and other days it makes him a sad, brooding storm cloud. And he does not want to talk about it while he’s actively feeling that way because he doesn’t know how to articulate it anyway.
He’s a little lost with what to do with his life. He was more than happy to live his life out simply in Ordon Village, but after his adventure he’s restless and confused and eager to help Hyrule more now that his world has been broadened, but feels strangely empty after Midna’s departure. He’s just… lost.
He was raised by Rusl and Uli since he was little. The whole village acknowledges he’s their kid. He moved out into his own home for space and because he was close to coming of age - unlike Ilia, whose dad is the mayor and has a big house, Rusl and Uli’s place is right and once Colin started getting older Link thought it was best to give the family more room to grow. He picked living on the edge of town because that was the easiest place to build and he loves Ordon Spring (he could sense the light spirit without really knowing it). Sometimes he misses being home with them and other times he loves the privacy and isolation.
He had a very close connection to Midna, which snapped into a confused whirlwind of attraction when he saw her true form, but he didn’t have enough time with her after that to truly process it, leaving him a confused hot mess with unresolved feelings.
His relationship with Zelda is more akin to how he looks out for his fellow villagers; she was someone he had to save and protect, and he has a soft spot for her and wants to help her, but there’s a distance between them as her status of royalty makes itself known again. Once the castle isn’t in disarray all the duties and protocols are back, and Link comes to her aid if she needs him, but beyond that he doesn’t spend much time with her. (He does want to have an archery exercise with her though, he thinks she’s a great shot)
He could go days without talking or could talk for hours without shutting up. Most of the time he just pipes up when asked, though; it’s rare for him to start a conversation unprompted. The exception to this is when he sees someone who needs help, whether it’s physically or emotionally. He’s a good listener and will absolutely sit with you and prompt you to talk about what’s bothering you. Just don’t expect him to be as open if you turn the tables on him.
Transforming into a wolf is still painful, but he’s gotten used to it. The weather or injuries can make it worse, though, and some days it’ll just hit him and he’ll stay in wolf form and hide so he doesn’t have to transform back and feel that bone shifting pain again.
He is usually the responsible figure that others look up to, and he fills the role naturally, but sometimes (a fair amount of times but don’t tell him that) he’ll just… do the stupidest thing without thinking, and he doesn’t realize it’s stupid until someone else has a heart attack about it. Like how he’s so used to being in burning structures by the end of his adventure that when there’s a small fire near Ordon he just… runs into it to save the goats while the others have a meltdown.
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