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milstrim · 3 years

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Home Is in My Arms

Tony Stark had had a daughter.

Her name had been Penelope.

She had had superpowers.

And he hadn't seen her in four years.

The ten year-old had last been seen on March thirty-first, 2012. The day of the Chitauri invasion. Tony had seen her that morning, and he guessed he could at least be grateful that their last interaction hadn't been like his own with his parents. Instead of a fight that was never resolved, the two had giggled on the couch of the newly furnished tower, him and Pepper with glasses of wine and Penny with her mint milkshake. Pepper had side-eyed them exasperatedly, as though their laughs and jokes had been the worst ruckus anyone had ever made.

And then Coulson. And then Steve. And then Natasha and Bruce and a God he had learned about in history when he was younger. And then Loki and the Helicarrier and explosions that had left Tony's head ringing--but nothing had hurt more than the loss of his friend.

Everything had gone by so quickly, so desperately, there had been no time to do anything about anything except gear up and go. The biggest reassurance he had given himself was that his homework had caused Pepper and Penny to leave the city for a couple of days while the girl was on Spring Break. It meant they were safe from everything was about to happen, and that he didn't have to worry past New York.

And they had won. The Avengers had been formed under desperate circumstances. They had saved the world.

And Penny had been gone.

Pepper had left on the plane, but Penny had managed to convince her godmother that she should stay at her friend's house for a sleepover. The aliens hadn't even been able to make it past the perimeter and into Queens, but the hectic of it had been enough. Or maybe she had run off to help. Even at ten she was braver than he was. Better. And equipped with superpowers from a field trip's rogue spider that made her stronger than even Captain America.

But it hadn't been enough.

No body was ever recovered. No trace of her was ever found. No footage or DNA or witnesses. There was nothing. Nothing for him to even try and grasp onto what had happened to her. How she had died. The best anyone could do was assume that a Chitauri weapon had vaporized her and to try to grieve from there.

And by God did he try.

After the Mandarin and almost losing Pepper, he'd put in more effort than he ever had. He visited the grave where no body was buried, leaving flowers and trinkets and books he knew she would have loved. He talked. To people who had known her like he had. Pepper and Rhodey and Happy and even Natasha.

The two had been so close when the woman had spied on him. Closer than he had been, still trying to change and learn to be a father better than his own after Afghanistan. He'd been dying and hadn't focused on anything but himself. About what he wanted to do before he was gone, instead of what would happen to his family afterwards.

So Tony tried. He tried a lot, but trying didn't always end in success. No, sometimes it ended in helicarriers made for HYDRA to control. Or a robot meant to protect only trying to destroy. Or in the fracturing of the Avengers, with Natasha and Steve on the run while the others sat in a max security prison that he spent every living moment trying to get them out of.

Except for now. Or maybe now too. Tony didn't know why Natasha had texted him. Only that she had betrayed him and texted only a couple of weeks later with a location out in Birmingham, England and nothing else but the message 'Get here quick.'

And he had. With nothing but a quick word to Pepper to keep Ross off of his aching back for a day, he'd stepped onto his plane and arrived in just over six hours. From there the billionaire had stepped into a waiting car and zoomed towards the address the spy had sent him, his heart racing just as fast as the vehicle's as he curved through city traffic.

Tony's thoughts strayed to Steve and Barnes and what had happened the last time he'd zoomed off to help his teammate. He swallowed down on his stuttering fear, reassured partly by the guantlet-watch sat snugly on his wrist and partly because he knew Natasha. Well, he knew her better than he ever had Steve anyway. Him and Natasha had fought, and there'd always been room for disagreements and anger, but at the end of the day they knew each other. And they were family.

The mechanic pulled up outside the run-down apartment complex, giving it a onceover before parking, pulling a baseball cap on low, and stepping out.

There was a drizzle, light and cold for the summer, even in England. He frowned, but only pulled his hood up with a shiver and stepped through the rusted metal gate, allowing him access to the first floor of apartments and a set of spindly stairs that he hoped didn't lead to any kind of locked door. He didn't exactly have a key, and Tony would prefer to not draw any attention to himself while here.

The man didn't need anymore grief from Ross. Not while he was desperate to pin something on Tony, and meeting with a violator of the Accords wouldn't exactly do much for his public image.

Biting on a sigh, Tony headed up the stairs towards the apartment number that Natasha had sent him. Thankfully, there was no locked door in his way, and the only person in the hallway that the stairs had led him to seemed to be much too out of it to pay him any mind. Quicker than he really would have liked, Tony was outside Apartment 9B, the number rusted and close to falling off of its hinges. Sucking in a breath, he knocked.

It only took a few seconds for the door to click! and then crack open just enough for him to catch familiar blue eyes and cropped platinum hair interrupted by a second lock's chain.

Natasha let out a short breath of relief, unlocking the door fully and opening the door just enough that he could slip inside. He glanced around the apartment once as she locked the door back up, surprised to see it was basically exactly what he had expected. It was small and old, orderly but not quite well-kempt, with evidence of past fights staining and fracturing the walls.

"Nice place," he commented. "Very runaway."

"Very last minute," Natasha responded. "It's not as easy as you think it is to get an apartment when everyone's trying to arrest you."

"You seem to slip away no matter what. By the way, how did you get away from Ross last week? I've got to know your trick on that, because I could use some pointers."

Natasha stopped beside him, a small smile tugging at her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest. Despite his forcefully loose and nonchalant posture, Tony felt himself freeze up looking at the Avenger. Her expression, no matter what it was, had always been hard for Tony to discern when she was practically the perfect spy. But now, this smile--it was sad and joyful and regretfully guilty.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice dropping to something softer. Rarely sincere.

Natasha glanced away from him to stare at a door for a moment before glancing back at him. Her lips twitched and her eyes threatened tears in a way that he hadn't thought she would express to him.

She swallowed. "Penny's alive. And I found her."

Tony--

Tony didn't react. Not for nearly a minute. Instead he stared, his entire body stilling--even his damaged heart--before he seemed to come back to life all at once like a broken wound-up toy.

The man stumbled back a step, falling into the nearest gray wall. One lonely breath coming in in a strangled gasp as he willed for something--anything--to make sense.

"She's alive?"

Natasha nodded.

"How?" he demanded. "How--in England? From New York? There's no way anybody could've just taken her while I was--"

The man cut himself off, dragging in another wheeze that rattled through his entire chest. His legs began to collapse under him, but his friend caught him, managing to maneuver him onto the floor slowly. Tony leaned against the wall as Natasha sat beside him, her head propped up against the wall beside him.

Neither said anything. Not for a few minutes at least at Tony's shaking and gasping ebbed. Not until he could force out images and nightmares of Penny his mind had tortured him with for years. He locked them in a box and dropped it in an ocean of useless thoughts, because his daughter was alive. Because she wasn't dead and none of it--a painful death full of fear and confusion while Tony was only blocks away that he had been tortured by for years--had ever happened.

Natasha spoke up when he'd finally managed to take in eight consistent breaths.

"I was raised in the Red Room," she started. "I was taken from my family and tortured for years. I tried to make a family there, and I did. For a little bit at least. But that family was taken too, replaced by the only world I had ever known. One based on pain and dictated structure. A cruel trick to play on a child, but it was normal for the Red Room. What wasn't normal was me not only succeeding more than they had ever dreamed, but succeeding past them. Escaping and deserting. Killing Dreykov was the last step of my defection to SHIELD. It was revenge and justice all at once. The others would be freed and I could clear out my ledger in a life I chose."

She swallowed, taking a moment.

"I failed. I failed and I didn't know." Natasha turned from staring ahead at the wall to stare at Tony. Suffering blue met broken brown, tired and guilty reflecting. In a whisper, she said, "Dreykov lived. He lived until a week ago. And the Red Room, and every Widow in it, lived under him."

Tony was touched to be trusted this much. To be trusted with even a sliver of what his friend had gone through in such a time of suspicion and betrayal. But he was scared. He was terrified, because Natasha never shared just to share. Everything she said had a point, a reason, a direction.

He tore his eyes away, shoving a hand over them and letting his head drop onto his knees. Unwillingly, he croaked, "No... Nat, please don't tell me--"

"Penny's a Widow."

Tony bit his lip, chewing on his cheek so harshly there was the tang of blood in his mouth. He took a moment, letting his head fall against the cracked and stained cement wall. Penny was alive. And she had been trained--no. Natasha's descriptions, however few and miniscule they had been, could not be described as simply training. Penny had been tortured. For four years. And what had he done but grieve and give up? If only he'd known. If only he'd found out sooner.

Natasha continued.

"The Red Room..." She took a breath and licked her lips. "After I escaped, they changed their whole system. Their method. How they hid and how they trained and--and how they controlled the women."

Something about the way Natasha said the last part sent a cold feeling down his throat.

"What did they do to her?" he croaked.

"They um...well, for lack of my understanding of it, they mind controlled her."

"They--Nat what? How would they even--"

"They controlled the brain’s neuropathways through external manipulation," came a new voice, their accent thick. Tony whipped his head around to stare at a woman he had never seen before. Like Natasha, she wore a regular hoodie and sweatpants but still looked as though she could take his life in less than a minute. There was an intensity about her, from her stance to her tied back hair to her ghostly blue eyes that stared at him suspiciously. "It was based off of blueprints for the Winter Soldier. Me and Natasha were part of the mission to retrieve them when we were young."

Despite the insanity of every new piece of information shot his way, he managed to piece it together in his head quickly enough that he opened his mouth to respond with a snapped remark, but Natasha managed to speak before he did.

"What are you doing out here? You're supposed to be looking after Penny."

"I was, but then I heard how badly you were explaining everything and I came to help." Natasha glared. "Relax. I finished braiding her hair and now she's pretending to be asleep so she can listen to everyone talking."

The last part was said with a pointed look down the narrow apartment hall, but everything after Natasha had said "Penny" didn't seem to make sense anymore.

"She's here?" he asked, already scrambling to his feet. He glanced between Natasha and the woman desperately. "Penny's here right now?"

"We found her yesterday," Natasha answered cautiously. "Me and Yelena just started to free the Widows deployed around the world. We managed to give her the antidote during a shootout in Estonia. After that a friend of mine managed to get us here."

"A shoot--is she okay?"

"Just a couple of burns," Yelena said. "She may be enhanced, but she still has plenty to learn. She could still kick your ass, though."

"Thank you. Truly," Tony said, a bite of sarcasm to his voice, before turning back to Natasha, his desperation bubbling. "Which room?"

"Tony, I don't think you need to just go bursting in there. Let me--"

Tony stopped listening, every word his friend was saying dying out on his ears as he spotted a brunette and wide brown eyes poking around the corner over Natasha's shoulder. He felt his breath catch in his throat as their eyes clicked.

Penny had grown. She'd sprouted almost an entire foot from the short ten year old she had been, awkward and gangly limbs that the girl had always seemed to struggle with were replaced by obvious muscle and carefully controlled movement as she stepped out from behind the wall, their stare still holding. Despite the sharper angle of her chin and jaw, she still held baby fat in her cheeks that dwindled the look of her down by a couple of years, not helped at all by the familiar roundness of her deeply brown eyes.

He swallowed. His voice broke.

"Penny?"

—-

“Penny?"

It had been years since Penny had seen her dad. Since she'd heard him. Anything about her father not privy to missions had been carefully shielded away from the teenager for years. Sometimes on the few missions she had been sent on she would catch news clippings and pictures on TV channels before she had to move on or that terrible voice in her mind would force her to ignore him. But, despite the scarcity of which she was allowed to know about her father, she had always thought about him.

Penny had swam in her memories whenever she could. Whenever she needed. She'd think about the games she and her dad had used to play. About lessons he'd taught her and days they'd spent together. About hugs and braided hair and kisses to her head. The memories had felt faint and washed away underneath everything, but she'd clung to them like a lifeline.

That being said, she hadn't expected Dad's voice to sound like that. For him to look like this. He was always so put together in her mind--so strong--even when he was messy from the lab or tired from a long day of work, always accompanied by fond child-like adoration. But now he didn't look it.

There were bruises on his face, faint but still noticeably purple. His hair wasn't as dark or thick as she remembered, growing back just a little higher on his hairline, and more lines grabbed and pulled at his face. But that wasn't what ruined her memory of strength and warmth, people aged after all, that was just reality. It was the expression on his face and glossing over his eyes. It was the way he'd said her name, so unsure and weary.

Penny, finally, looked away from Dad, instead glancing over at Yelena and trying not to look like she was too desperate for help. Yelena stared back, raising her brows and gesturing to Tony with a slight nod of her head, as if telling her to not be a coward. But Penny didn't know how to do that. Not now.

Thankfully, Natasha took over.

"I'm going to go get us some dinner. Yelena?"

Okay, so not the kind of help she'd been looking for.

Yelena gave Penny one last glance, nodded, and then followed the Avenger out of the door.

The door clicked shut and then it was just father and daughter.

"Penny," he tried again.

She hid a flinch at how small and tired his voice was, how broken he felt standing only feet from her. She hid her shock and her fear and apprehension exactly how she'd been taught, schooling her features into something easy and bored. She let her shoulders drop and her posture loosen, but the hardest part was hardening her stare. That had always been the biggest complaint of her handlers. Her senses had been sharp but her expression always so readable by her eyes.

"Hi, Dad," she said, her voice cool and casual on default. The words felt terrible leaving her lips, so she crossed her arms in an attempt to feel more stable. "It's been a while."

He chuckled, short and sad. "Yeah. You could say that."

And then there was silence. It trickled in, slow, awkward, and tense between them. Penny tried not to let it get to her, but she couldn't deny that she wasn't tired and disappointed. When Yelena had smashed the antidote beside her, it was the first time the teenager had seen clearly in a long time, and her first thought had been of her Dad. There had been worries about if he missed her and if he'd been okay, but a fear had stabbed at her so strongly that she was still thinking about it.

Would he still love her? After all she'd done? She had hurt people. She had killed people. Not in defense. Not in good reason. But in fear and control.

"I, uh..." Penny blinked at her dad's voice, beating away her thoughts and instead focusing back on the bruised and stuttering man in front of her. "Sorry. I would've thought of something better to say if I'd known I was going to see you again. Maybe some presents too. Do you still like those peanut butter cookies?"

"The ones we used to make?" she asked. "With the Hershey Kisses?"

"Those are the ones."

She shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't had them since I was with you."

"Oh. Yeah. I guess you wouldn't have..." he trailed off, glancing down for a moment. She stared at him, watching his expression carefully as he loosened and looked back up at her. "Well, we can't make them again? At home?"

"Sure. Sounds fun."

Penny couldn't stand how dull her voice sounds, like she couldn't care less about something that really made her want to cry in happiness. But...she didn't know what else to do. What to say. The Red Room had made sure she always knew what to do and what to say, but that had been for politicians and businessmen and people she was supposed to trick. She didn't want to trick her dad. She just--she wanted to--

Dad stepped closer, brows furrowed and mouth pulled down in a deep and concerned frown. She kept a wary eye on him as he approached, trying to force down feelings of apprehension and fear that she had become familiar with whenever anybody was in her space. But he stopped about a foot short, his reached out hand halting just away from her face as he whispered, "Oh, piccolina. It's okay." His voice broke. "It's okay. I'm gonna make sure it is... I promise."

And finally she broke.

And it hurt. It really, really hurt.

Penny leaned her cheek into his open hand as hot beads of tears caught on her eyelashes, allowing for Dad to cup his other hand around the back of her head and tentatively pull her in. It took the teenager a moment to adjust, so wired on the need to fight and never let her guard down, but then she just--crumpled.

Like a switch had been flicked, Penny buried her nose into his neck and wrapped her arms around him in a tight squeeze, swallowing down tears. Dad pulled her in tighter, his nose pressed into her tightly braided crown.

And then he sobbed.

It was a strangled, inhuman kind of sound that rumbled from his chest to escape the back of his throat. He cleared his throat, as if embarrassed, but Penny wasn't an idiot. She could still hear his heart thumping and feel a tear slip from his chin onto the back of her neck. It all shocked her, but the sound found itself ringing in her ears painfully more than anything.

She flinched in his hug.

"Oh, Penny. I'm so sorry," he apologized, his voice sore with tears. "So, so sorry."

"For what?" she asked. "Not finding me? You wouldn't have been able to, Dad, even being you. Draykov made sure of it."

"I don't care. I should've done something! I should've--I should've--"

"Dad." He fell silent as she pulled away from him, crossing her arms back over her chest as she came back to her training. Dad stared at her, his dark copper eyes as guilty as she felt. "Please, just... Don't be sorry. Because I'm sorry, and if you're sorry then we're both sorry and we can't both be sorry it's--"

"What on Earth do you have to be sorry for?"

"You'd be surprised."

"Penny--"

"I'm not ten anymore, Dad. I don't think I'm even a kid anymore... I've--I've done too much harm. I have a lot to be sorry for."

Dad stared at her, a familiar sadness in his eyes. He chewed his cheek, brows furrowed in thought, and she was brought back to a time when she would watch him solve problems in the lab, or try to answer one of her inane questions that she never seemed to be able to stop asking.

"Let me ask you something," he started. "Do you think I'm a bad person? That I'm at fault for losing you?"

"No," she answered immediately, because her dad had always tried, no matter what. She'd known he wasn't perfect, and that a lot of people hated him for the mistakes he'd made, but she'd always known how much he really cared. How much he really cared and tried for the world. For the Avengers. For her.

"Well, then what makes you a bad person? What makes you not a kid anymore?"

Penny could only stare. She could only answer, "I've hurt people."

"I know. And I have too. But you don't think I'm a bad person, so you're not a bad person either. And what about Nat? Or your new very scary friend?"

"I forgot how much I hated arguing with you," she deadpanned.

"'Trying' to argue with me," he corrected, a smile pulling at his face. Surprisingly, she managed to smile back. Even more surprisingly, it didn't feel fake. Sure, it was small and tired, but Penny couldn't remember the last time she'd actually smiled. "See? Everything's going to be okay."

"How do you know?" she asked. "I'm a violator of the Accords. If it ever gets out that I was part of the Red Room--what I did for the Red Room--almost nothing could keep me out of prison. You'll have to explain how you found me and it would make you a violator--"

"I'll handle it," Dad said. "I always handle it. And just because you don't feel like a kid doesn't mean you aren't one. There are protections for you. And we found protections for Nat. Wanda too, if she would've taken them." He muttered the last part under his breath, the words emotionless but regret and guilt clear in his eyes. He cleared his throat and looked back at her with a raised brow. "And how do you know about the Accords? Do they have a current events class in the Red Room?"

"We do actually have to keep up with some events for missions. But, no. I've been reading old newspapers. Did you know you were on the front page for almost two weeks in June?"

"No. Nobody reads the paper anymore. Unless you're a dinosaur anyway."

"Uncle Rhodey likes the paper," she said with that still small but still real smile. "For the crossword puzzles."

"Yeah. Like I said: Dinosaur." With that, the jokes seemed to slide away as he took on a more serious tone. "But I'll handle it. I've already been trying to handle the Accords. You'll be safe, and free, at home, Penny. I promise."

"I can really come home?"

Dad paused. "Did you think you wouldn't?"

Penny shrugged. "I don't know. I wanted to. I want to. But I just... I didn't know how safe it would be, and I know how to live by myself. How to avoid suspicion. I was...I was prepared for other options."

"If you were planning on running, why did you meet with me?"

"I don't know," she said. But truthfully, there had been a hole in her heart. A knot in her stomach. She'd just--she'd needed to see her dad. To apologize and let him know she was okay. She'd missed her family for so long, she had to imagine they'd missed her too. In fact, Penny had wanted nothing more to know they'd missed her. That those years in the Red Room wondering where her family was hadn't been because they didn't care.

Realistically, Penny knew Dad had missed her. Had loved her enough to grieve and look for her, but being there for so long--so terribly long--had been enough for seeds of doubt to sprout and root itself in her mind. But the teenager didn't tell her dad that. That would make him upset, and Penny was tired of being upset. Instead, she said, "Just missed you. Wanted to know that you're okay."

"Well, now you're gonna know every day," he said. "And you're going to know that Pepper is okay. And Rhodey and Happy. And you're never going to miss us again."

"Never?"

"Nope. Well, maybe when you go to school. But we can homeschool if you would prefer that. Would you?"

"Oh, uh, I don't--"

"Yeah, never mind. You don't have to know right now," he said with a wave. Then he smiled at her again, that genuine smile that squinted his eyes and pulled at his wrinkled laugh lines. "Right now, why don't we just go home?"

"Yeah," she said. And suddenly no other thought occupied her mind. Home was all she could think of. Of tall New York skyscrapers and the bustling city. Or maybe they'd go back to Malibu, even if his house was gone. Either way she'd see her uncle again. And Pepper. And Happy, who were all family to her. Family she hadn't seen in so long. "Let's go home."

Dad smiled, his eyes misty. Penny smiled back, taking his hand and leaning against him in another hug. He readily accepted, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a light kiss to the crown of her head.

The best part: Nothing about him whispered danger. Or discomfort or uneasiness. There was just...comfort.

Just home.

It was the best feeling in the entire world.

—-

“Should we tell Uncle Rhodey we're on the way?"

"Nah. He loves surprises."

"He hates surprises."

"Exactly!"

Penny laughed. And the sound, the feeling, was just like home.

#peter parker #tony stark #female peter parker #irondad #irondad and spiderson #iron man fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years

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pretty please chris watching you h*mp a p*llow?🥺💕

A/N- I bet Chris would love to catch you like this and wanna watch you get yourself off. 2.3k

Anyone who reads, smut. All smut. Just how this works, expect it. Daddy Kink as well.

“Dodger, he's gone for another two whole days buddy.” You reach down to ruffle your good boys ears, and he whined again with a huff, making you laugh thoroughly. “Would a bone make you feel better?” As soon as you said bone, the dog's ears perked and you beckoned him to follow you to what you called “The cookie closet.” The pantry.

Opening the door, he charged inside and sat up just as pretty as you could picture, what he always did for a treat. “Hmm, cookie for you, cookie for me? That sound fair?” Reaching in the bag, you dug out a chewy bone for Dodger, who once he had it, he raced off to his bed in the hallway. And you scanned the shelves looking for your favorite Milanos. Pepperidge Farms, you're a lifesaver, you think as you snatch the bag and leave. Since it was getting late, and you had already talked to Chris that evening, you decided it was a good time to turn in for the night. Chris had sounded different, recalling your conversation.

“I miss you, but I'm damn glad your wrapping up soon.” you had spoken into the phone while cooking a meal for one. A fresh salad with some produce you were given by a neighbor from there garden.

“Miss you to Babygirl, a lot more then you know.” His voice sounded weary, like maybe he was overtired. It had been a long six weeks. Normally he didn't sound this tired though.

“You okay Chris?”

“Just ready to be back home with you and Dodger, Babygirl.”

After turning off the lights, and heading up the stairs, Dodger was snoozing in the hallway still, you go into your bedroom, prying open your bag and flicking on the tv to some comedy program. Glancing at the bed, you bit your lip feeling that all to familiar ache in your lower belly. Not only did you miss your boyfriend for his company, you missed his attention. Six weeks was a really long time. Fuck to long, you been holding out. Masturbating just wasn't the same, but fuck a girl has needs.

You can hold out for two more days. You say to yourself as you proceed to go into the master bath and take your nightly shower. Right? No big deal.

It actually was.

The shower did nothing to relieve that coil settled in your belly, even Chris soft patriots tee was aggravating and while laying on top of the covers, it prickled against your nipples till they ached and kept brushing against your skin in the pleasurable aggravating as hell way. “Jesus Christ” You muttered as you sat up and ripped it off, tossing it aside. “Well, this isn't any better.” You say out loud to no one, your thighs rubbing back and forth to alleviate the friction.

You glance at the nightstand, processing the toys you had available, but hell if any of them really were what you wanted. You wanted Chris. His thick fingers caressing your core and opening you up for him, his cheeky grin looking down at you while he told you to cum for him, his mouth would nip and play with teases against yours until you couldn't take it anymore. Reaching over to grab his pillow, you smother it over your face, breathing in deeply, simply cause it smelled like him, moaning into it before pulling it away.

“God when is the last time I was this fucking needy?.” You ponder as your fingers dig into Chris’s pillow, rubbing it against your body, up and down. Fuck it felt good, heavier than the tee shirt teasing you before. You arch your body into it, pushing your head back. You need more. Fuck how you need more. Spreading your thighs your rub it down over your cunt, grinding into it with a sigh. It's been ages since you humped, and to use Chris’s pillow just seemed naughty. Rubbing yourself all over what was his. You just couldn't resist.

Flipping up, you fold it in half and kneel over it, grinding yourself against his pillow. Reaching a palm behind you to grasp the headboard, and rocking your hips back and forth, giving soft moans, especially when you dipped forward, putting some hard pressure to press against the pubic bone. You got a little bit louder at that one. Just a tad. “Oh fuck.” God, it felt good, naughty to be so needy You had to hump and grind like you were out of control. You stopped holding back, making as much noise as you wanted. Who the hell is gonna hear you?

Chris happened to catch a later flight. As soon as his part was all over, he didn't bother waiting. “Just have my things sent to me,” he informed the assistants, and taking his essentials, he was gone. Digging his keys out of his pocket, he unlocked the front door and was greeted with a soft warning bark from Dodger, but Chris hushed him as he closed the door, thinking you must be asleep. Hearing his person, Dodger Immediantly scrambled up to Chris, who knelt down to meet him, rubbing your ears and kissing the tip of his black nose. “Hey bubs, you keep Y/N safe?” The steady thump of his tail and whines in greeting coming from Dodger, as well as him trying to toppled him over. “Okay, okay. I'm glad to see you too.”

A soft cry came from upstairs, both Chris and Dodger perk at the noise, followed by a muffled curse. “Well hell... sounds like Y/N is not asleep.” Pushing himself back to a stand, he had Dodger go back off to his bed, and Chris let his jacket slide off his shoulders. Ascending the stairs, your noises grew louder, and he would be lying to say that didn't cause him a hard-on. Pausing at the door, he listened for another moment, and then knocked. You sounded surprised when you called out “Don't come in!”

Chris pushed the door open anyway to find you sitting straddled on a folded pillow, kneeling with a hand fisted in the material bunched between your thighs and a hand clasped over a breast, having been teasing your nipple with tugs and twists will they were swollen.. “Chris! what are you doing here?” You whimpered out, a look of shock and embarrassment crossing your face, and you move as if to pull out the pillow between your thighs.

“Whoa, baby, why you stopping?” He strides over to where your kneeling on the bed, grasping your chin in his thumb and forefinger, looking firmly in your eyes. “Daddy didn't say you could stop, keep going.” Releasing you he moved to sit in a reading chair in the corner of the room, where he had a perfect view of you slowly starting to rock again against the pillow, your eyes not leaving him. “Go on baby, I want to see you get cum all over that pillow.”

You started to ride again, it was slow as you started to get that build up again. “Do it feel good on that pussy that belongs to me, Baby? All nice and wet thinking about riding your daddy?” Chris asked as he pressed his palm against his erection in his jeans, your body starting to bounce a little more.

“Y-Yes it does, Not as good as you though.” You whine pressing down into the pillow as hard as you can, rubbing the cotton against your mound. “I rather it be your fingers, or your cock.” You whined at him and Chris shook his head with a click of his tongue in disagreement.

“Not yet, Baby. Like I said, I want to see you cum on that pillow. Then we will see what happens after that.” Blue eyes roamed over your body, from your tense thighs clasping the pillow in place, your pussy starting to look raw and glistening the more you worked on getting yourself off. He rubbed at his beard as you continued rocking hips, your torso flexing with your movements, your breasts bouncing, perfect mouthfuls for him. All the way to your face starting to twist again in pleasure. Soft little whines going high pitched the closer you got.

“Okay, rub at your clit, make yourself cum,” Chris instructed as he shifted his long legs out further and he opened his pants, withdrawing his hard stiff length, watching you, who he considered his, so fucking beautiful, getting yourself off.

It was quite exciting for you, being instructed in what to do, and you prominently did as you were told, wetting your fingertips with a suck between your lips and dipping between your thighs, teasing, and circling around your bud before touching yourself, building up the momentum. You looked over at Chris with his hand fisted around his length, slowly rubbing up and down it, his chest heaving a bit more, and he nodded at you. “Keep going Baby. Do as your Daddy says.”

So you did, you didn't want to disappoint him and your fingers were familiar with the motions, knew just what twists and pressure was needed and your head tipped back as you bounced on the pillow as if you were riding Chris, tugging on your bottom lip in concentration till you snapped, warmth flooding from between your thighs and buzzing pleasure racing through your body, you twitched and quivered as you slammed yourself back down, feeling your cunt trying to find what you really wanted. “Look at me, Baby.” He growled out, and with a heaving breath that expanded your chest, your head dropped to see him, his swollen cock twitching as he rubbed his palm and fingers up and down the velvet hardness, thick veins throbbing.

His other hand patted his slack clad thigh beckoning you over. You moved off the pillow, your slick coating your cunt, your inner thighs. Sensitive as you moved over his leg, but not sitting down yet. “I'm so glad your home already” you purr as your hands push into his hair and his hand cups your mound, rubbing between your folds. “Me too, this is a perfect welcome home.” Pulling his hand away, you lower onto his thigh, and the slacks material clings right to your wet cunt, Chris can already feel it soaking into the fabric.

He took a hand that was braced against his chest, flipping it so he could see your palm and spit in it, bringing it down to his cock, that you promptly started to work him, rocking your hips back and forth against his thigh, your soft little whimpers coming more frequently this time compared to last time. “Better than the pillow? My pillow?” Chris’s lips turned into a smirk as you nodded, confirming what he knew. Fingers dug into your waist, rolling you forward when you rolled back to him, grinding your sensitive little clit into him.

“Nasty girl, rubbing herself all over Daddy’s pillow.” Still clearly amused at your antics, you couldn't help but grin at him in a teasing manner, even as he released your hips and pulled your forward to the thicker part of his thigh. Your hand gripped down below his cock and rolled his testicles in your palms running fingers through short bristles of hair. You licked your lips while watching his nostrils flare, his eyelids flutter just a bit before you went back to stroking his cock, thumb twirling around his swollen head. “I was so fucking horny and needed to. YOU said you were not gonna be back right away.” Of course, you were playing with your accusations. Chris arched a brow listening to you and arched his hips to fill your hand once more.

“So fucking horny and needed to hump a pillow that waiting for two days was impossible?” Chris drifted off and removed his hand from your back, gripping your chin between his fingers and dragging down till you opened your mouth. Letting his fingers he had touched you with earlier fill your mouth. “Suck, if your that horny, that should be a treat.” Your lips clasped around, and let your tongue draw them in further, collecting your taste. Cupping a breast, he nipped around the curve, and drew a tongue through the cleavage, latching onto a nipple to tease, popping off as you squealed slightly around his fingers. “Tender Baby?” moving up your collarbone, and releasing your hip to grasp the back of your neck, pulling his hand away from your mouth and claiming your lips as his own, dropping those soaked digits to tease your clit, have you cum all over his leg. He hissed as your grasp tightened around him, and he jerked his hips faster to cum, your mouth dropped open and your eyes closed, but he was quick to snap you out of that. “Eyes on me baby...”

Meeting his, your watered slightly with being so closed and trying so hard to do as he asked, that when you did come, drenching his slacks and grinding down as hard as you could, ribbons of cum shot all over your bouncing breasts and over your face, Chris reaching his own orgasm. Bracing your hand against his chest to keep upright as he sunk back into the chair, his face one of bliss as much as you knew yours was. Appreciative Blue Eyes roamed your body, and he reached up to smear it into your skin. “Fucking beautiful, I should come home early more often.”

Pulling you into his chest, you wriggled in closer, and he kissed your neck, rubbing the small of your back. “You want to go take a quick clean up shower, then I will finish with you.”

You lifted your head. “Finish with me?” Chris chuckled softly. “Oh, you didn't think we were done babygirl? Oh hell no, we're not done till your cumming around my cock tonight.” Giving a slight swat to your ass.

“Better not keep me waiting too long.”

#chris evans #chris evans RPF #chris evans smut #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x reader #chris evans daddy link #sweater writes #amber writes #amber request

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put-a-lil-alright-in-the-world · 4 years

Note

do you headcanon beej as autistic/adhd? if so, would you share some hcs?

anon, you know the way to my heart! to answer your first question, yes and yes. to answer your second question, HELLS YES!

here are some hcs!

ok so beej has autism and adhd, both of which Juno wrote off as him being “sloppy”, “lazy”, “weird”, etc.

when he moved into the deetz-maitlands household, though, they started to notice that something was a bit off

it started with the stimming, something which beej had never been skilled at concealing

a lot of his stims (especially the ones he does when stressed) are blatantly obvious- things like vocal stims (humming, repetition, echolalia), and physical ones (rocking, tapping his hands, biting/chewing things), so they weren’t really possible to hide

and there were a lot of little things that you wouldn’t really pay much attention to unless you were actively searching for them: the way beej seemed to be absolutely obsessed with bugs, how it seemed like he was waging an internal war with himself whenever he made eye contact with someone

the deetzes were the first to notice, since lydia does some of the same things (autistic!lydia ftw!), but at first they wrote it off as “hey maybe it’s just a demon thing”

then, during a family movie night, when everyone was yelling at the cheesy horror movie on tv, knocking stuff over, the volume was too loud, and it sent beej into a textbook sensory overload meltdown

when the fam noticed, at first beej was terrified that this would be the last straw for them- that this would be the last “weird beetlejuice thing” that they were willing to endure before kicking him out, so he tried to apologize; choking out “i’m so sorry-sorry-sorry” through gasping sobs

when the family managed to calm him down, they eventually got to talking; asking beej why he melted down, what it felt like, you know the drill

it didn’t take long after that for them to deduce that he had autism, and they do their best to make him feel safe and comfortable

they buy those super-strong chewy necklaces in bulk to stop him biting on his hands like he did before, and try to turn his room into a quiet place full of stim toys and stuff to help him feel more chill

charles is surprisingly good at helping beej with panic attacks, overloads, and meltdowns. something about his calm, matter of fact manner combined with 15 years of helping lydia through the same thing make him an ideal candidate

they were initially a bit (read: EXTREMELY) awkward with each other, but it doesn’t take long for beej to start seeking charles out of his own accord, whether he needs help fixing a casualty of his latest prank, someone to listen to him, or even just a calming presence to sit with

it takes a few more months for them to notice the adhd, though

he’s bored, wandering around the house while lydia does homework, charles is at work, and the maitlands are working on their model when he stumbles across delia meditating

well, less stumbles and more forces his way into her room in an effort to figure out just what was going on behind the closed door

she invites him to try some meditation to “balance his chakras”, and he accepts the invitation with perhaps too much enthusiasm (“im gonna have the most balanced goddamn chakras you’ve ever seen!” “what do you mean that’s not how meditation works?”)

however, when they actually get to the sitting still and quieting your mind part of the whole meditation thing, beej can barely seem to handle 8 seconds before he a) blurts out a thought that just crossed his mind or b) groans that his mind won’t “shut the hell up”

delia knows that meditation isn’t for everyone, but for some reason she keeps thinking about how he struggled long after he leaves, about twenty minutes later

suddenly, the pieces start assembling in her mind

beej, who is always fidgeting at least one part of his body, even if it means sprouting new limbs to make that possible

beej, who was so excited for the maitlands to help him learn to read (yes beej is illiterate), but just got up and left after no more than 20 minutes of sitting

beej, who paces constantly, loses his train of thought, and seems like the most scatterbrained guy to ever walk the face of the earth or netherworld

the next day, after giving herself sufficient time to mull the situation over, delia approaches beej again, and asks if he wants to go for a walk

they walk around the property, delia trying her best to stay nonchalant as she asks beej questions about his struggles paying attention, keeping still, remembering things, and by the end of it she’s sure- he’s a textbook case, after all

after talking to charles and the maitlands that evening to get their opinions, she sits down with beej and explains their suspicions

beej deflects, at first (“god nerfed me with not one, but two mental illnesses because he knew I’d be too powerful otherwise”), but eventually starts to take it in, and realizes exactly how much this explained

why he could never seem to finish a task unless he could get himself hooked on it

how an hour for everyone else either felt like 2 minutes or 9 days to him

why every bit of possible rejection felt like a stab to the chest with Bad Art

he starts learning how to cope with it all a bit better. lydia shows him online articles for how to deal with symptoms, delia helps him do some beginners guided meditations, and everyone just supports him

on the bad days, when RSD is hitting hard and he feels absolutely worthless, he often turns to the maitlands

they don’t have much knowledge of adhd beyond what they read about in their child psych books when they were alive, but them just being themselves is enough to help beej

barbara puts on disney movies, and cards her fingers through his hair while they watch. sometimes, beej will curl up on the couch, his head on her lap, and fall asleep. she doesn’t mind, she knows he gets nightmares; wakes up screaming some nights, or sobs into his pillow when he thinks that nobody else is awake to hear it

adam sits on the couch, beej’s head on his shoulder, and reads aloud to him. he follows the words with his finger as a quiet way of helping beej learn the words. even though it’s an awkward angle, he wraps one arm around beej, holding him tightly

anyways beej has a family who loves and supports him and autistic/adhd beej holds a special place in my heart

these were really fun! i’ve never actually written hcs before and this list got hella long, but feel free to request more, y’all! i don’t write x reader (just not good at it) or beetleb*bes (ew. go to hell), but request anything else, y’all!

#beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice #btmtmtm #autistic!beetlejuice #autistic beej #adhd!beetlejuice #delia deetz #charles deetz #lydia deetz #barbara maitland #adam maitland #lawrence beetlejuice shoggoth #remy writes #hc tag

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kidmachinate · 4 years

Text

Not All Is As It Seems

**SPOILERS BELOW THE PICTURE**

********

“Rey…Skywalker”

THAT’S NOT HOW THAT WORKS!!!

My literal reaction to the very end of the movie. Much like The Last Jedi, I don’t have an issue with this as much as the majority of the internet and think it was a fun watch…however…two things. As a Star Wars film, which is what it is, man did they mess things up. Also, whatever plot complaints people had about The Last Jedi? Rise of Skywalker basically says, hold my beer. Let’s get into this.

This was the most obvious thing from the beginning with the trailers but Emperor Palpatine? Why is he in this? Kylo just gets the shaft at the end of the day because he’s “Supreme Leader” until THE supreme leader comes in, which brings him back to the temper tantrum angry kid he is. Still taking orders from someone ultimately and can't rise to power. Poor Kylo. Guess we've gotta kill Palpatine. Everyone wants to anyway. I suppose this all needed to happen in order to set up “ReyLo” but the inclusion of Palpatine at all just seems like a huge copout. Should have just kept Snoke. Replacing Snoke with another main villain after he was killed off by Kylo makes that scene pointless in the previous movie. Palpatine for the Final Order apparently has a bunch of literal planet destroyer ships. Cool…so…pulling the strings all along over the last two movies is pointless. Just execute the final order and forget going through all the trouble? The final battle was cool upon first seeing it, but just doesn’t feel like a satisfactory payoff at the end. The more it dragged on it went between predictable and cringeworthy. Rey gets shown the space battle just like he did to Luke back in Return of the Jedi to try and make her lose hope and embrace her dark side because…you know…evidentially Rey is a Palpatine. Isn’t this Rise of SKYWALKER? Maybe we should look at it from Kylo Ren’s perspective instead and it makes more sense? All these force families are related in one way or another and cross over and such so I’ma give that a pass. The way the ships just fall from the sky when things are over just seems absurd. Lando Calrissian must be one hell of a charmer to have gotten the army he did to help out. There ARE things I like, I swear. Call this nitpicking but these were my thoughts through the movie. Take it or leave it. There’s more.

The ending overall was probably my least favorite part of the whole film. The awkward tension between the three main characters towards the beginning felt forced, and I think we could have done without as well. The force link of sorts between Rey and Kylo was kind of annoying and awkward as well in the previous movie, but I think was done much better in this one. The ways Kylo tries to manipulate Rey or extract info from her is front and center. Parts of the fanbase don’t like Rey. Well I do, so fuck them. Just kidding, we all have opinions. That said, for as much as I actually don’t like Kylo Ren, this trilogy might as well have been his journey. He is probably the only new character fleshed out to their full potential. He actually gets progression through the movies. Rey is basically the equivalent to Superman and just can’t be stopped. Struggling with the dark side and her humility keeps her “human” but her sheer power just makes things very predictable. She throws down against Kylo in The Force Awakens with NO FORCE TRAINING and wins. It is actually one of the reasons I thought he was kind of a joke. This is his trilogy…then he dies. But hey, awkward kiss from Rey before he dies. Guess there goes ReyLo. What they were building up to all these movies…fanfic achieved…short kiss…no more ReyLo. I’m almost done with the bad I swear…

Finn. What the hell were they thinking? What is his role in this film, really? In fact, what is his role truly since Force Awakens? He’s clearly force sensitive in some way and they really don’t get into what that could mean. Easy character development that just doesn’t really happen. He has heroic moments in The Last Jedi as well but in this movie…he’s just not interesting and mostly ends up just being worried about Rey but never able to do anything about it. He also “has something to tell her”. He never does. The topic even gets revisited between Poe and him. Still doesn’t say anything. Guess there’s no resolution there. Oops. Also, real quick, we knew Leia would fall just like Han and Luke. One per movie. But we don’t kill off Chewy although we tease it. I was happy about that. Droids are fine too. Humans gotta go though. Guess human don’t sell as well as toys. Alright, we’re done here. Onto the good stuff.

I just mentioned Chewbacca so his emotional reaction to Leia’s death was really well done. Leia was treated the best way she could have been with what they had to work with, in my opinion. The tiny gripe was referring to her as Princess instead of General but I guess we will give that a pass too. The force ghost scene with Luke and Rey was both great and nostalgic. That X-Wing was sitting there the pervious movie and to see him raise it for Rey to use was one of the grand moments of the film. This along with him catching the lightsaber as if to say, I was wrong and was scared when you first approached me about training. Or maybe this was to shut up angry fans about the fact that he threw the saber in the first place in The Last Jedi. I found that great personally. Fans need to get over themselves sometimes. The Han Solo retread with the famous “I know" line was another highlight. People will nitpick this and say Han never had force powers so shouldn’t show up in this way. Clearly it was just Ben recalling memories as if to be talking to himself, to his Dad, and being offered forgiveness. A highlight of the movie for me as well. This all brings things to where this post started. Just before that however, I want to recall thoughts from a previous post of liking what they tried to do in this sequel trilogy and prove that the force is more than what we saw it as and isn’t “just blood”. Even the dark side can be converted. Offered redemption. There are just several places where this all could have been done much better. They also could have put Mara Jade in the movie. Just saying, totally not salty, let’s wrap this up.

Rey’s revisit to Tatooine is a great way to end the film, the Skywalker saga. She buries the two sabers where Star Wars started in the first place and reveals the one she forged for herself. I love this. When she engages in conversation with the person who questions who she is, at the point of redeeming the ending, she mentions she is Rey Skywalker. You’re a fucking Palpatine, was confirmed, and I get that you got the nod from Leia and Luke’s force ghost, but that quite literally, is not how things work. You don’t just label yourself something and become that. Without her being a Palpatine, her struggle with the dark would make less sense. However, I do think there would have been more value in her actually being related somehow to a Skywalker that dabbled in the dark, meanwhile Kylo Ren started good and turned dark due to having too much “Vader” in him. Like two people trying to find their proper place in the world in their own struggles. Rey was always gonna be the one to live however. I personally think it would have been more respected that way. Maybe I’m dealing in absolutes here.

These are my thoughts on everything. Nothing is as it seems and Kylo and Rey both have their respective journeys realized for better or worse. Will Rey train a new generation of Jedi and tell them about the Skywalker linage while then lying to the kids about her being one as well? Since she is now a self-proclaimed Skywalker? Don’t lie to the kids. Don’t hide shit from them. You don’t want to end up with a classroom full of Kylo Rens.

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taeyongtime · 6 years

Text

for the one i’ve always loved

genre: childhood friends to lovers!au ⎮ fluff

group & member: NCT’s Jaehyun

word count: 5.5k

a/n: inspired after watching the movie for ‘To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before’ + please read the book series too and stamp “jaehyun channels big kavinsky energy” on your forehead

“I have never seen a dirtier pigsty than your room, Jung Jaehyun.”

The familiar soft chuckle you grew up listening to since age five echoes across the four walls and you roll your eyes at his nonchalance.

“Are you going to clear some space up for me to sit or what?”

“You can just move my clothes aside,” Jaehyun laughs as he turns back to his computer. “It’s not like you haven’t done it before whenever you come over.”

“Then I’m not coming in,” you huff, lean against the doorway with your arms crossed. “Not until you clean your room and there’s visible space for me to sit.”

“You’re quite a lot of work as usual,” he sighs, getting up from his chair and clearing the pile of dirty clothes on his bed into the hamper while reorganizing the clutter on his desk. “Happy?”

“If you had developed a readily aware sense of when to clean then we wouldn’t be having this type of conversation.”

“Hold it, I just happened to be lazy on this day of all days.”

You take a seat on his cleared bed and glance at the dimmed laptop on his desk.

“What are you doing?”

“I was watching a 19+ film before you interrupted me saying I needed to clean my room.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’m kidding. I was checking my email because I haven’t checked it in a while.”

He turns around in his swivel chair. “What’s up?”

“My parents are currently traveling on a cruise ship for 2 months and didn’t think to tell me until this morning via a handwritten note taped onto the fridge.”

“Don’t laugh!” you whine at hearing his warm laughter. “It’s nothing to laugh about!”

“Let me guess, next you’re going to say something about crashing here for the next 2 months because you don’t want to be alone in that big house of yours.”

“…I hate you.”

One last chuckle and Jaehyun gets up to retrieve the sleeping bag he keeps in his closet for just an occasion, tossing the bundle at you as he teases about the injustice of sharing his space with a person he has known since youth when there was already not much room for two people when it could barely hold the things of one.

—

You and Jaehyun used to be next door neighbors before he moved out to an apartment closer downtown.

The Jungs had moved in next door three days after your eighth birthday, the dimpled boy waving at you while sitting on a cardboard box with ‘TOYS’ written in black marker on its side instantly becoming your closest friend before you could even wave your hand back. Seat partners throughout elementary school and the number one go-to whenever you wanted to hangout or simply as company, Jaehyun was always there for you when you needed him and it couldn’t come as a bigger surprise when he told you of his move out the day he turned eighteen. Used to being able to hop over in a matter of five minutes tops for ten straight years, you had sulked for a good week before talking to him again, getting hold of his new address once he settled in and immediately working out the fastest navigational route to his new place from yours for an impromptu housewarming party.

“Where are your parents headed this time?”

“Australia and New Zealand,” you answer, wiggling into the sleeping bag and turning to face his bed rather than the bookshelf on the wall. “They said it’s quite nice there and they have friends to catch up with anyway. Then they’re going a bit further up to spend a week in Indonesia and two days in Thailand before coming back here.”

Jaehyun’s nose scrunches while he pauses to take in the information and a sneeze follows.

“So… So tell me what made them think it was okay to leave you behind all by yourself?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. They think it’s fine since I’m an adult now but I can barely do anything when everything’s been done for me. Chores? Cooking my own meals? I already have a hard time deciding what to wear some days, how am I supposed to cook, clean, and manage my life when I’m practically no different from that of a baby?”

“Then it’s time to learn.” The bed creaks from the weight lifted off its frame and the light goes out, leaving you wide-eyed in the pitch black that was Jaehyun’s bedroom as he shuffles back to the warmth that was his covers.

“You’ll be fine.”

“Really? What if I end up burning the house down trying to microwave popcorn at 2am?”

“You’ll be fine,” he insists. “I’ll be your chaperone in the kitchen to make sure you don’t set off the fire alarm and wake my parents next door.”

“You’ll come over, then?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Smiling into the covers of the sleeping bag, you mumble “good night” and he does the same, silence drawing the curtains to a close as sleep overtakes your remaining perception of consciousness.

—

You return home early next morning, but not before Jaehyun made breakfast when he woke at 9:30 and you 10am. Stomach content and brain alert after eight hours of deep sleep, you unlock the door with a cheery hum and take in the large empty space that was the living room and the open kitchen, the set of stairs leading up to the second floor only increasing the dread of being by yourself with so much emptiness around. Not only were your parents away on their trip, but it didn’t even seem like the housekeeper was here—that much your parents still allowed you on what they called “the journey towards independence” by allowing the housekeeper to still come in to clean. You didn’t hear the sweeping of the broom in the dining area or even the harsh vacuum for the carpet upstairs, and while she mostly kept to herself while she worked, there was still an occasional check-in whenever she came in during the afternoon to tidy up. A part of your daily routine was clearly missing today as you close the door and head upstairs to change into a set of comfortable clothes rather than the top and bottom you had gone out in.

“Where’s my pen?”

You dig around the container of pens on your desk and find the one you’re looking for, the tip still smeared in ink from yesterday’s leakage. Pen ready, you open the first drawer and reach all the way towards the back, taking out the round pink box nestled behind volumes of old schoolbooks and popping off the lid to reveal four envelopes within—three sky blue and one a dusty rose color. Lifting the flap to reach at the letter inside each one, you unfold the creased papers and scan over each one, deeming them fine as they are until you reach the letter from the pink envelope. Bringing the pen close to the next space on the line, you start writing as you see fit, ink slightly smudging the edge of your pinky as your hand travels down the page.

“And… done.”

Clicking the pen to retract the tip, you note your spot in the letter and refold the worn crease marks from constant instances of unfolding and refolding. It would probably be best if you transferred everything to a fresh sheet for easier reading, but there was always more to add for this specific letter. There was a reason why this letter was in a separate color than the three sky blue envelopes, its recipient and intention on a whole different level than the other three.

Back in the box your letters go and you return them to their usual hiding place, closing the drawer shut and making your way to bed, wrapping your body up in the warm covers as you close your eyes into a light sleep. Writing a letter is truly something special to retain in this era of technology and everything fast-paced, the notion of snail mail holding a quaint inkling of fondness in your heart. Fondness of the writer at the thought of the sealed envelope making its way towards the intended recipient in due time and the surprise of the recipient at receiving a heartfelt message in the mailbox without prior notice.

But it’s not like you will ever send all the letters you’ve written. Especially not when the pink envelope contained a love letter of all things.

—

Jaehyun, as previously promised, comes over at six in the evening after dinner with his parents to oversee your first attempt at cooking a meal for yourself and nearly falls to the floor at the scope of the mess that was your cooking skills.

“What the hell happened here?”

“I told you, I can’t cook!” you yell, jumping back at the drops of oil bouncing out of the pan. “Can you taste the spaghetti and see if it’s cooked? I don’t know what’s the right texture to be labeled as ‘chewy but not too firm’.”

“… Stand aside.”

“I have to do this myself, Jaehyun. Just… I don’t know, walk me through it.”

Fifteen minutes later you manage to produce a plate of spaghetti that didn’t look like pig slop and didn’t taste that bad either, but definitely not as good as it could’ve been as you bite down on a strand of what seemed to be still slightly undercooked noodle.

“Passing for a first timer,” your best friend comments. “But spaghetti is one of the easiest dishes to make, so…”

“Okay, we get it, Master Chef, sit your ass down already.”

“I deserve an ice cream right?” he begins, already opening the freezer while you continue eating your dinner. “After saving your kitchen from being burnt down?”

You place the tomato-stained plate and fork into the sink after you finished eating.

“Only if you wash the dishes first.”

“Deal.”

He ends up taking two ice cream bars rather than just the one he was promised, irking you to no end as you slap his hand off the refrigerator the moment it touches the space on the bottom to pull it open.

“You’re about to clear out my entire fridge, you pig.”

“Ouch. So mean.”

Edging him out of the kitchen to wash the dishes yourself, you jump onto the couch after putting them in the dish rack to dry and stare up at the ceiling, not knowing how you were going to survive on your own for the next two months.

“The semester starts tomorrow,” Jaehyun begins. “Nervous?”

“Actually, no,” you tell him truthfully. “Surprising, I know.”

“It’s good that you aren’t nervous. New year, new you.”

A playful flick at his shoulder for the attempt to lighten the mood and he gets up, brushing at his jeans.

“I’d better go. It’s late and I have an early start tomorrow.”

“You can always stay over at your parents’ place, you know. That’s your home too.”

Jaehyun shrugs. “Yeah, but my backpack and stuff is back at my apartment.

“Can I use your bathroom before I go, though?”

“Use the one upstairs,” you tell him as he makes his way towards the bathroom by the kitchen. “The sink in that one’s kinda weird.”

“Will do.”

—

“Hey, you’re Y/N right?”

You lift your head up, having just barely set foot out of the lecture hall for 10am biology at the sight of the boy standing before you, lips pursed and arms crossed. He didn’t look too happy, and you sure hope you hadn’t done anything wrong when you nod and ask what business he had with you so early in the day.

“I’m Doyoung. We had an Intro to Statistics class together last semester.”

“Yeah, I remember,” you nod again. “You’d always sit in the same row as me.”

“Can you explain what you mean by ‘bigheaded prick’ in this letter?”

He holds up a blue envelope and your blood practically runs cold at the sight of the yellow happy face sticker on the seal, edge curled upwards from the envelope being opened to access the letter inside.

“How… How did you get that?”

“Found it in between my calculus homework,” Doyoung says in a clipped tone. “Didn’t know I had my very own anti-fan until now.”

You swallow at the memory of angry scribbles from last semester’s statistics class, complaining on paper about how Doyoung always asked so many questions during discussion and extending class time past the designated time slot because he always had something else needing an answer right after the first question was answered by the TA. How he was smart but needed an ego check, a know-it-all who couldn’t see past the raised nose bridge that was always cast down upon others… not good. Not good at all.

“I’m really sorry I said those things about you,” you apologize with a low bow. “I really… didn’t mean it.”

“I’m not sure you’re sincere about the apology at all.”

Your head dips even lower until you can feel the hunch in your back.

“I’m sorry, I really am.”

Murmurs of curiosity begin to buzz around your hunched figure, Doyoung luckily having the decency to forgive you quickly before a crowd began to gather.

“Yeah, fine, you’re forgiven.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m going to keep this, by the way.”

You recoil in surprise and he nods in the affirmative. “So I’ll know what people are talking about when they start talking behind my back.”

“Doyoung, can I please get my letter back?” you ask desperately. “It’s… private.”

“Not anymore.” He tucks the blue envelope into his backpack and shoots you a gummy smile.

“See ya.”

You wave your hand weakly and sigh, fear slowly rolling in when you realize that if one of your letters had already gotten to its recipient, the other blue envelopes probably would be in the hands of their readers also.

“Oh no,” you gasp, pulling at your hair. “Not… Not the pink one too?”

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Spooked at the sudden question, you whip your head around and nearly collide into Jaehyun; he extends a hand for you to help steady yourself from falling.

“Something wrong?”

“I…” You open and close your mouth, not knowing how to best phrase the situation. “Uh… did you…. You remember that one time you came over to my house?”

“I’ve been over to your house so many times,” he laughs. “Which time?”

“Be…Before the semester started,” you blurt out. “Do… Do you remember seeing a, uh, pink box? When you were over?”

“Nope.”

His answer only further sinks the stone in your churning stomach and you shake your head, hands pressed against your temples.

“This is bad.”

Jaehyun frowns. “What’s up?”

“N-Nothing. I… I gotta go.” You hurriedly wave and leave without another word, feet frantically taking you away as your brain races to backtrack when you’d last seen the box of letters. One blue envelope was already out, and there was no call for where the other letters would be.

Hell, there was even a chance that he could’ve seen the pink one but was just keeping quiet for your sake.

—

News of the second letter came in the worst way possible, the jolly recipient of the second blue envelope broadcasting his encounter with the letter over the university’s radio station for all to hear late in the night. While gratefully given anonymity on the DJ’s behalf, his consistent rambling on your notation of his friendliness and bright personality on paper was enough to keep you from storming out to the radio station yourself to tell him to shut the hell up, not daring to leave the library when you still had to finish the second half of a 5-page essay due by 9am tomorrow. Plugging in your earbuds, you shift your focus back to your laptop and tune out the radio, which luckily switches to a new ballad song of one of the currently popular artists and not more talk about any handwritten letters.

It is nearly 2am before you finally submit the assignment, and on your way out of the library you bump into none other than Johnny Seo himself, the man in question who ran the radio station with an entire five minutes today on receiving a lovely handwritten letter. Unsure if he knew who you were, you quickly turn tail to avoid making conversation, but the exclamation for you to wait stopped you dead in your tracks.

“Sorry,” he apologizes when you turn around to face him. “I got the wrong person.”

“N-No problem.”

Silently whispering thanks to the heavens for letting you slide by, your triumph is short-lived at the sound of footsteps from behind, the frown on Johnny’s face easing into a slow smile as he shakes his head knowingly at having missed the obvious.

“You’re Jaehyun’s friend. We met a while ago, yeah?”

“Well, Jaehyun’s very popular across campus, so I’m not surprised if you don’t remem—”

“And you wrote this.” He holds up the blue envelope. “It’s addressed to me.”

You debate denying but find no point in doing so when he had already indirectly exposed your letter fiasco to the entire student body.

“Yeah, I wrote it.”

“It’s a very nice letter.” He takes out the slip of paper tucked inside and scans the contents. “I didn’t know I had such a positive presence in your life.”

A flush of red creeps onto your cheeks and you duck your head down, not knowing how to respond.

“Well… you’re always so encouraging to your radio listeners and just… an overall cool person.”

“May I keep this? This is the first fan letter I’ve ever received.”

“I… I’d rather…”

The eager look on his face too much to disagree upon, you find yourself nodding ever so slowly while sighing internally at having already agreed to give away two of your prized letters.

“Okay. You can keep it.”

“Great! I’ll walk you home, if it’s fine with you?”

“Y-You don’t have to.”

“Please.” He offers an arm. “I insist.”

Once at your front door, you receive quite the pleasant surprise when Jaehyun’s mouth drops at seeing you and Johnny together.

“Hello.”

“Your best friend is cute,” Johnny smiles, wiggling his fingers to a wave before pushing you towards Jaehyun. “Take good care of her.”

“Will do,” Jaehyun laughs, beckoning for your house keys and opening the door to let you in first. “Later, Johnny.”

“Why are you here?” you ask your best friend curiously.

“Thought to ask you to go get food with me but then you didn’t show up until now.”

“How long were you waiting?”

“Uh…. Maybe four hours?”

Your eyes widen at the thought of Jaehyun waiting four hours outside your doorstep and punch him on the shoulder.

“Why didn’t you message me earlier?”

“I did,” he points out. “But you probably were too busy to reply.”

“God, I’m… I’m so sorry.” You usher him inside and drop your things down. “I was… preoccupied.”

He nods in understanding and sits down on the couch.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Um… not really.” Even though he was your best friend, it wasn’t in your best interest to inform him about your missing letters. The slips of papers were your most prized possessions, hidden feelings recorded down in ink that you didn’t have the courage to reveal in person. Not that they were all love-related, with Doyoung’s being a vent about the difficulties of his character and Johnny’s an admiration of his bright personality and wanting to become his friend, but there did remain two letters harboring romantic interest—one blue one for a tiny crush and the pink one that could change everything if not handled the way you had intended for things to go.

“I just want you to know that I’m here for you,” he says with a smile. “You can tell me anything, you know.”

“I…” A heavy sigh falls through your lips. “Okay. Here’s what happened.”

❀

“Hey, hey, hey.”

“Oh, hi Johnny.”

An enthusiastic hand claps your back. “So I heard there’s still one more blue letter circulating around.”

You roll your eyes. “Did Jaehyun tell you?”

“A little bird tweeted it out,” he grins. “His name could be Jung Jaehyun, I’m not sure.

“Need help finding the third one? I can send out word through the radio.”

“That is the last thing I need right now, Johnny.”

He shrugs. “Just a thought.”

“I don’t even know how they got out in the first place,” you fret. “I keep them closely hidden at home, there’s simply no way—”

“Well, I got mine in Physics. Jaehyun was looking through my notes and noticed there was a blue envelope slipped inside between the pages.”

“Jaehyun found it?”

“Yeah.” He suddenly reaches into his back pocket and stares at his buzzing phone.

“Sorry, I have to go. See you around?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Good luck with the last one.”

“There’s actually one more, but…”

Your words trail off as Johnny takes his leave, the gears in your brain slowly trying to piece together Jaehyun’s role in the situation of your missing letters.

“Did Doyoung find his through Jae, too?”

Before you can look through your phone for Doyoung’s number, a quiet cough sounds from behind and you turn around to face the recipient of your final blue enveloped letter.

“Are you the one who wrote this letter?”

—

The third letter was one that you put quite an amount of time into, but you didn’t know why you were so nervous as your fingers tightened along the edges of the books you were carrying in your arms. Not that your feelings were anything more than a tiny crush upon a guy who had been kind enough to direct you to an 8am class last semester when you didn’t know where to find the building it was located in.

Taeyong was only being nice then, but it didn't stop you from casting side glances at him when you found out he was in the same major and shared most of your classes with you.

“I…” You blubber. “I, uh… well…”

“Oh, hey, Taeyong.”

An arm slinks around your shoulder and you gulp as you greet your best friend, nudging at his side and casting glares at the blue envelope in Taeyong’s hand. Hopefully he got the hint that you needed to get away from Taeyong so you didn’t need to address the topic of the letter.

“Jaehyun, I need to go study,” you blurt out, your brain working overdrive to churn out a reasonable excuse of leave. “We made plans to go to the library together, remember?”

“Right,” he chimes after, glancing at the blue letter in Taeyong’s hand. “Catch you later, Taeyong?”

“Um, I was hoping to ask Y/N about—”

“Gotta go, bye Taeyong!”

You pull Jaehyun after you and make it to the library entrance before stopping and turning around to face him.

“Thank goodness you showed up in time,” you wheeze, adjusting your grip on your books as you take much-needed breaths of air. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have known what to say about the letter.”

“Actually, I was specifically looking for you,” Jaehyun says with a shrug. “It wasn’t a coincidence.”

“Oh, okay. What did you want to talk about?”

“Well, about the letters…”

You hear an exclamation of your name just as Jaehyun opens his mouth to speak and drop your books onto the ground at the sight of Doyoung hurrying over towards you and Jaehyun.

“Are you busy?” he demands.

“No…”

“Then follow me, this is important.”

You glance at Jaehyun and he gestures for you to go.

“I’ll wait for you at the biology hall.”

“Yeah, sure.”

It turns out that the important thing Doyoung had dragged you aside for was a review session for his current Statistics class, one that you had a different professor for. Apparently the review slides weren’t going to be posted online and he had entered the classroom fifteen minutes late, thus the proposal for you to transcribe the first half of the slides onto paper while he paid attention to the TA reviewing the second half of the powerpoint for the sake of the fifteen minutes he’d lost getting there after the start time and the five minutes it had taken to pick you up. Maximizing efficiency by utilizing all available resources, he had said.

“I’m missing a few points,” you tell him as students begin to file out of the classroom after the two-hour session comes to an end. “This is how much I managed to get down though.”

He skims over your notes and nods.

“It’s good enough. The TA said this upcoming exam is focusing more on the newer material anyway.”

“Then why did you drag me here when I was in the middle of something with Jaehyun?”

“You owe me from the letter.”

“I remember receiving forgiveness for calling you a prick,” you scowl. “What the hell?”

“Now you’re forgiven,” he corrects you. “Thanks for coming here on such short notice.”

“… I don’t regret what I wrote in your letter.”

It was already dark out by the time you leave, hurrying over to where Jaehyun had said he’d be waiting. You didn't think it would take this long and had forgotten to text him to not wait for you during the whirlwind that was statistical facts and definitions demanding for your attention.

“You made it.” The figure sitting on the bench outside the biology lecture hall stands up and smiles in relief. “I was afraid you’d forgotten.”

“No, it…. it ran longer than I expected. Sorry for not letting you know ahead of time.”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “I would’ve waited for you to show up regardless.”

“Dinner’s on me for having you wait,” you offer. “Cool?”

“Oh, definitely.”

—

Jaehyun never brought up the topic of the letters after you’d grabbed dinner that night, and you receive the surprise of your life when Taeyong approaches your table in the library one Friday afternoon before your 3pm chemistry lecture.

“May I sit?”

“Y-Y-Yes.” You hurriedly move your things to make space and he smiles as he sits down.

“Sorry it’s so… messy.”

“About the letter addressed to me…” he begins without missing a beat.

You brace yourself for his reply, closing your eyes shut so you didn’t have to look at him. The imagery of him rejecting you in the library and calling you a creep for staring at him in class was so embarrassing to even think about that—

“I think you’re a very nice person, Y/N.”

One eye slightly opens and the other gradually follows.

“Me? Nice?”

Taeyong nods and smiles. “I didn’t know we had so many classes together either. If I had known, we could’ve been study buddies so I wouldn’t need to study all by myself last year.”

A nervous laugh escapes from your lips and you clap your hands around your mouth, ducking to avoid the stares and curious turns of heads from other tables.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I don’t know if I share the same feelings, but your letter still means a lot to me.”

“I understand,” you whisper back, genuinely grateful that this hadn’t gone as badly as predicted. “Um, so this means you don’t mind exchanging numbers so we can study together right? You’re in like, three of my classes this semester.”

Warm chuckles bubble up in your corner and he inputs his contact information into your phone, dialing his own number from your device so he had a record of your phone number as well.

“It’s no problem at all.”

You grab your phone back after he’s finished and nod in thanks.

“Actually,” he breaks in. “I do have one more thing to give you.”

“Oh?”

A pink envelope is placed on the middle of your notes and your eyes widen.

“I won’t say who I got it from,” Taeyong says slowly. “I was only told to deliver this.”

“But.. you didn’t…”

He leaves without another word and you hesitantly peel the flap of the envelope open, heart caught in your throat as you take out the letter inside and read the only line written on the center of the paper.

❀

Maybe deep down you’d already known it would be him.

The minutes tick by as you sit outside of the library, waiting for him to show up while the campus slowly empties out with the completion of classes and anticipation for the weekend. The numbers of people walking by dwindle down and you sit up when you spot the lone figure heading your way when most passerby walked the opposite direction.

“Sorry,” Jaehyun apologizes, sweat glistening at his forehead as he offers a sheepish smile. “I didn’t know my meeting would run this late.”

“It’s fine.” You get up from the bench and smile. “I know you would’ve done the same for me.”

His signature dimple makes its way onto his face and you take out the pink envelope Taeyong had given to you earlier.

“So.”

“So,” he echoes. “What’s with the letter?”

“Where’s the original one? The one I had in here written about you?”

Feigned innocence twinkles in his eyes as he shuffles his feet, avoiding eye contact.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, I can recognize your handwriting like my own. I know you have it with you somewhere.”

He reaches into his backpack, pulling out a sheet of folded paper that was creased all around the edges.

“I was debating framing this up so I can stare at it first thing when I wake up in the morning.”

“Gross.”

“Can’t be more gross than the fact that you never told me in all the years we’ve known each other that you love me.”

Embarrassment rolling off your shoulders in waves, you start to walk and a second set of footsteps follow suit.

“Hey, it’s true that you love me, right?”

“I don’t know,” you dismiss. “It’s cold out and I’d like to get home before it gets dark out and the wind picks up.”

The lax pace from behind breaks into a run and you stop in your tracks when a pair of hands grab your wrists together, sneaking around your waist to pull you into a hug.

“Let me go, Jaehyun.”

“Did you think I’ll say no when I’ve pretty much felt the same about you all this time?”

The gentle look in his eyes softens even more and he takes off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders.

“Here, it’s getting a bit cold.”

“Well,” you huff indignantly, pressing down the feeling of bliss fluttering in your stomach. “If you love me too, then why did you send out my other letters? Those were private, you know.”

“I thought… they looked ready to be sent, so I just dropped them off anyway. They were all signed off and everything.”

He winces at the impending groan from your end and moves his arm up, resting his hand on your shoulder in apology.

“Are you… mad at me for doing it?”

“It’s already been done, so there’s nothing more I can do about it,” you sigh. “But at least they all know how I feel and I can get some form of closure with my feelings.”

“Then…” His eyes scan your face, nervous as he bites his lips. “Then this also means you accept my apology… right?”

You eye him with a knowing glance and slowly break out the smile you’d been suppressing, bubbles of laughter echoing in the darkened night sky.

“What’s so funny?” he frowns.

“The look of fear on your face,” you giggle, “Priceless!”

Realizing you’d pulled a fast one on him, he pulls the jacket off your shoulders and you gasp in the cold of the night, the thin green hoodie on your back not nearly providing enough warmth as Jaehyun’s puffed one.

“Give it back, I’m cold!”

“Nope.”

“I’m cold!” you shriek, shoulders hunched at the wind nipping behind your exposed neck. “Give it back or I’m breaking up with you!”

“You’re breaking up with me already?” He offers his jacket just out of reach for your arm span. “Right when I was going to re-offer my jacket?”

“You never even answered me,” you refute as you cross your arms to retain whatever body heat that hasn’t escaped yet. “So I don’t know, maybe you’re breaking up with me, not the other way around.”

The padded layer re-drapes itself onto your shoulders and you hurriedly fit your arms inside the sleeves.

“What’s your final answer, Jung Jaehyun?”

“I’ve already read your letter and told you I’m not going to say no, what more do you want?”

Displeased at the lack of clarity, you stuff your hands into the jacket pockets and start to walk, humming a quiet tune that only increases in volume as another hand slips into the right pocket to intertwine its fingers with your own.

“Your hand is warm,” you mumble without looking at him. “Aren’t you cold without your jacket?”

“No,” he answers, tightening his hold on your hand while matching his pace with yours. “I’m warm just by being with you.”

#nct #jaehyun #nct scenarios #jaehyun scenarios #nct fanfic #nct fluff #tatbilb!au #its been too long since i last wrote my mojo is kinda off i feel :/

806 notes · View notes

heartslogos · 5 years

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newfragile yellows [607]

Krem’s weight on her would be uncomfortable if it wasn’t the only source of warmth she currently has. Krem's got one arm slung over her shoulder, leaning heavily on her, head bobbing as he jolts awake every few seconds. Every time Krem comes awake he does his best to shuffle her closer to him. Ellana would appreciate his attentiveness if she were awake enough for it, honestly. She’s been gnawing on Krem’s abandoned jerky for what feels like forever and the only progress she’s made is getting her mouth tired.

The meat is flavorless, chewy from spit, and overall unpleasant. Ellana’s not sure if she’s even managed a bite of it. It’s like she’s been using it as a chew toy or something to dull her teeth on for the past however long they’ve been there. Any flavor this thing had was long gone by the time Ellana got to it. Krem’d already been tiredly gumming at one end of it when she sat down next to him and he passed it onto her.

If Ellana ever had any qualms or hang ups regarding sharing food like this she can’t remember it. She’d taken it without thinking and started going at it from the other end while he leaned against her to give her a wind break. Not much of a wind break, but it’s something.

Somewhere between Ellana taking Krem’s jerky and Krem staring on taking quick thirty second naps in which he jolts awake whenever his head bows down too low, Dalish had come up on Ellana’s other side and started working on her own strip of meat.

“Stitches’?" Ellana asked arounda mouthful of what was basically a leather strap.

“He’s a sucker for women and children,” Dalish replied. “I’d feel bad about it, but really, I’m saving him the hard work of having to soften this thing up with spit. I’m giving it back to him later. We’re doing half each. Aclassi’s?”

“He can’t stay awake enough to eat it,” Ellana says. “I practically took it straight out of his mouth.” Ellana jerks her head towards the long line of people in the cold snow. “News?”

“Some of the scouts think they’ve figured out a way to avoid the steeper climb, but they’re not sure how safe of a crossing it is. They’re discussing it right now with Trevelyan and the rest. I didn’t ask anything further. I was too tired for anything that would require critical thinking that wasn’t focused on immediate survival. I’m too tired for the long term.”

Sounds about right.

Ellana vaguely knows where they’re going, the cradle of the sky is around here and Ellana had told Evelyn as much. Now, Ellana has no idea what they’re going to find there, but she knows they’ll find something because the Wolf wouldn’t have told her to go otherwise. But Ellana hasn’t the faintest idea of how they’re going to navigate their wagons, surviving cattle and horses, and civilians there. She leaves that up to the organizers of this whole thing. Gods be good, Ellana would hate to be the one making the decisions right now.

The three of them huddle closer together, Krem’s arm flexing over Ellana’s back as he fumbles to get his fingers snagged into the back of Dalish’s cloak to try and pull her in closer. Even mostly asleep Krem’s good at looking out for them.

“Good?” Krem yawns, almost slumped onto Ellana’s lap. She’d put her arms around him, but then she’d be losing whatever warmth she’s got with her furs.

Ellana was lucky when Haven fell. She’d been prepared.

Lessons of the Wolf — keep your life small enough to run with.

Even with the Chargers at her side, Elaine still hasn’t learned how to shake that. When the orders to evacuate Haven came all Ellana had to do was throw her furs over her shoulders, grab her satchel and go.

Everything else she needs has their own legs to carry themselves with.

She knows others are not so lucky. And no one expected Haven to actually fall. Literally, physically fall.

If Ellana were a more selfless person she would have given her furs to someone else. Maybe some younger woman or perhaps an injured elder, or basically anyone else.

Another lesson of the Wolf — take care of yourself first, the rest will follow.

Ellana snags Krem and Dalish’s free hands and draws them in close, into the gaps of her furs and squeezes their fingers tight in hers. The two let out small sighs of relief as they squeeze back. The three of them are an awkward tangle of limbs at the worst angles, but at least they’re getting warm and maybe a little bit full.

The three of them look up when they hear the sound of crunching snow drawing closer.

Bull shakes his head at them when Krem moves to stand.

When he reaches them he runs his palm over Krem’s head, adjusting Dalish’s cloak with the other hand. His eye is on Ellana.

“You good?” He means all three of them, even if he’s looking at her.

“I’m not dead,” Ellana says. And then glares at his bare chest. “And I’m not in danger of losing my nipples.”

“This one isn’t even on me,” Bull replies. Every inch of him is tired, even though there’s the faintest curve of laughter in his eyes. “Lost my shit when the mountain fell on our home base, Wolf. You can’t hold that one against me.”

“I can and I will,” Ellana huffs. “News?”

“Later,” Bull lowers his voice, “The situation’s getting harder to manage.”

His expression tightens as he bends down over the three of them.

“Talk to the others. Get a read of the mood. Report back to me by tonight. Understood?”

“Others?” Dalish repeats. “How far down do you want us to go?”

“I can ask Malika to get a read on the kids,” Krem says, “Might be a little hard getting the nobility to talk.”

“Not those others. Our others. The Chargers,” Bull corrects.

Ellana’s eyes narrow at him. He doesn’t avoid looking at her, but he doesn’t say anything which confirms what she’s thinking.

Lessons from the Wolf. Lessons that you learn when you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. You take care of yourself — and your own — first.

Krem straightens up next to her, she can feel his body tense and Dalish’s hand squeezes her knee.

It confirms what the three of them are thinking.

But they nod anyway, silent. Too risky to get verbal confirmation now. Best to follow orders and wait for tonight to confront that issue.

“Good,” Bull’s voice is low, tired, and proud. “I’m going to check on Stitches. Remember. Tonight.”

#heartsfic #gather your party and venture forth

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wingskribes-blog · 6 years

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WING FIXES THE UNIVERSE! 1. STAR WARS: THE LAST JEDI

The Last Jedi, is probably the most contentious of the nine Star Wars films released so far. Some seem to love it. Others say it’s undeserving to hold its place in the series. Both camps seem to span the cross-sectional gamut of casual and hardcore fandom. So too are there are those—maybe even a majority—who will work up what little enthusiasm they can find to tell you, “It was okay. Not great, but okay, I guess.”

Well let me be the first to say, ALL of you are right. Star Wars: The Last Jedi is as GOOD as it is BAD. And on the whole, it’s kind of just ‘inoffensively, meh’. But this is not a Kribes’ Review you’re reading. No, this is a Wing Fixes the Universe! No ratings here, Dear Reader. No, here we get into what Last Jedi should have done to be a truly fantastic film. Here we fix EVERYTHING. So let’s begin!

(Of course … there will be spoilers.)

The PROBLEMS

1) TONE: Star Wars has never shied from a joke (“Shut him up or shut him down!”), but the jokes, quips and gags have usually managed to hold themselves ‘in universe’. That is to say they are played to the situation, or to one character or another, not to the audience. They are not slipped in just to keep the audience laughing. And when they are, it rarely goes well. Then we get Jar Jar bumbling his way through a platoon of tanks. We get Obi wan and Anakin trapped in a force-field with saying, “How did this happen? We’re smarter than this!”

Well, perhaps The Last Jedi isn’t quite as dense as say, The Phantom Menace, with these class-clownish winks to the audience (though it’s close) but it takes them much further than the franchise has ever allowed before. We get Poe’s crank call to Hux, Luke milking that alien’s testicle-boobs, the crying-eyed porg staring up at Chewie, and so many little moments that just don’t feel like Star Wars. We will fix this.

2) PACING: Battles are great but they slow things down. Too many and they tend to blend together; they become boring. Character arcs are vital but you must move your characters through these arcs! You can’t just linger and show them banging their heads again and again against the same wall! (As we get with Rey on the island.)

3) STAKES: When every sequence is offered up like a climax, you stop caring by the third one. Build your tension so we care whether the heroes win or lose in the end.

The FIX

1) THE TONE: We’re going to have to re-script everything. I don’t mean a major overhaul here (yet), just stripping and replacing the wallpaper. No more pandering to the audience. No crank calls. No alien milking, or space-nun near misses. e.g. you can keep the porgs but they can’t just be there to be cute and silly. Give them a tiny sub-arc with Chewbacca. 1) Stepping off the Falcon he sees them immediately. They scatter at the sight of him. 2) They chirp in the night and Chewie has trouble sleeping. He covers his ears and grumbles. 3) He finds they’ve infested the Falcon and he gets legitimately angry. 4) After destroying the First Order’s air support on the crystal planet, the Falcon is forced into a crash landing (which would just be a better way for Rey to arrive) and the poison gas mentioned in Force Awakens is about to flood the ship. Chewie grabs a handful of porgs before running out then puts them down on the ground outside. Yes, it’s still corny. But corny is fine in a Star Wars. (e.g. R2 launched through the air by a swamp lizard.) But at least they have a place in the story now; they’re not just there to be cute and sell toys.

2) THE OPENING: If you’re going to start with a big battle, make it mean something. Don’t just tell me some jokes, show a few explosions and then kill a Red Shirt I’ve never seen before but am supposed to care about for some reason. What you should do is make this sequence its own miniature movie starring Rose’s sister. Poe shouldn’t even be in it (except on the communicator telling them to ignore retreat orders). Start with the sisters saying goodbye. (This grounds the one sister’s sacrifice and gives us reason to care when she dies. Simultaneously, it helps us to care about Rose later on, and makes her sudden importance as a main character much less jarring.) Now you can give all the turns and tension of the battle to this plucky, determined bombardier. There’s plenty of story and emotion to be dug up here. Find it Don’t give us the opening battle from Revenge of the Sith. Give us the first twenty minutes of UP.

And when it’s done, let’s see Rose in the background, mourning her sister as everyone else celebrates. Only Leia sees this. Then it’s Admiral Holdo who berates Poe for disobeying orders. (Moving up her introduction to reduce how jarring her sudden importance is.)

3) THE ISLAND (A): Rey’s time on the island needs to be WAY shorter. And less silly. When Luke comically chucks his lightsaber over his shoulder it undercuts Rey’s entire Episode VII story arc, reducing it to a three-second, not-terribly-funny sight-gag. Have him look at it instead, then look at her and walk past without touching it or saying a word. Then we get the short montage of her following him around as he does his day-to-days but he refuses to talk to her. NO MILKING. We see time pass in shots of her sitting outside his door at night, eating food she brought from the Falcon. Each time there’s less food in her pack. Until there’s none. Then Luke steps out, glares at her, and places a bowl of stew in front of her. As he turns away, she begs him to tell her why he won’t help and seems to have turned his back on the Force. He appears as if he’s going to answer but before he does, we cut away to…

4) THE CHASE: The First Order chasing the Resistance’s ships is so boring you only really showed it in the background of other events. So obviously, it needs to change. What if they’re hiding instead. In a nebula or something. Poe wants to take a flight of X-Wings out and see if he can cut a hole in the First Order fleet for them to escape through, but Holdo says he has to stay and protect the cruiser. Instead of mutinying, he highjacks some fighters and goes out anyway. The cruiser’s attacked and he barely makes it back on time. He expects to berated by Holdo but finds out that Leia’s woken up while he was out and that’s when she slaps him.

5) THE ISLAND (B): Rey begins communing with Kylo. We get TWO scenes of Luke showing Rey what the force is and isn’t (no more). No Dark Cave. And TWO scenes of communing. No Kylo’s version of what happened with Luke. We still get Luke’s version. Luke and Rey fight when she tells him she’s going to Kylo. She leaves him with words that are a callback to his “I must face Vader” speech in Return of the Jedi. He is left to ponder his choices.

6) SNOKE/REY/KYLO: a) Forget Rey’s parentage! If her parents weren’t important, there’s NO REASON the characters would be talking about them. Just because it’s a mystery to the audience, doesn’t mean it is to them! At least change Kylo’s line to, “I know where your parents are.” b) Give us something about Snoke’s background. I mean, who the fuck is this guy all of a sudden, anyway? Maybe he was Sidious’ rival but lost out to becoming the previous Sith Lord’s apprentice. A single line is all it would take. 3) Cut the fight with the New Imperial Guards to no more than ten seconds. It added nothing. It wasn’t exciting. And even if they’re the best fighters in the army, I just didn’t believe they’d last that long.

7) CASINO: There’s so much wrong here. Too much. Fixing it would require major structural changes more significant for a small article could fit. Let’s just say, the following issues need to be dealt with:

For starters, it just doesn’t fit. Allowing Fin and Rose to leave the chase and then come back to it without anyone noticing is an odd choice. If escape pods are so hard to track, why doesn’t everyone just get into them to get away? Even if I missed something and they gave a reasonable explanation for this, why would they call Maz? How does Fin even know how to reach her when he’s been unconscious since the last film? And then we get them walking around Casino World gawking and judging as if they’ve completely forgotten their friends are currently dying in large numbers. We’re shown more urgency in the escape of the horse-aliens than in the near-total destruction of the Resistance.

Plus Benicio Del Toro’s character, another important character who jarringly appears out of nowhere, not only adds nothing to the story, but is dull to watch too. And could Captain Phasma at least be fighting them to get to the last shuttle before the ship explodes? Instead of just because she’s a villain? And could we see Gwendoline Christie’s whole face, while she’s alive?!

8) YODA: Cut this whole scene. Yoda looked terrible and didn’t act or speak like any Yoda we’ve seen before. It added nothing to plot or character that we didn’t already get, and could as easily be accomplished the Return of the Jedi callback from Rey (as suggested above).

9) THE LAST STAND: This was actually mostly quite good. The Luke stuff was great. Just a few changes. Why are Fin and Rose flying salt-speeders? Neither of them are pilots. Find something else for them to do. And as I mentioned before, crash the Millennium Falcon. Have Rey try to take out the Battering Cannon and make it seem like she’s going to take it out. But then she gets hit by a ground turret and is forced down. It’s a much better entrance for Rey. Beyond that, the sequence is good.

10) BOY WITH BROOM: This scene is the only reason I didn’t suggest cutting the Casino Planet altogether. Having the film end with a seed of hope is both a great throw to Episode IX, and a powerful moment in its own right. That being said, it wasn’t done particularly well. The Casino Kids were a pretty small facet of the Casino Planet arc (which is kind of fucked up if you think about it). So their impact in this scene is not as strong as it should be. When you sit down and rework the Casino arc (as prescribed above), make sure the kids are more relevant to its development.

And THAT dear reader, is how you will fix this most mediocre addition to the Star Wars franchise. Follow my council and I promise, your work will be better. Your work will be everything it should be. Your work will be FIXED.

#Last Jedi #Star Wars #Fixed #Movies #Films

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