#oh you learned what ____ means that’s great keep writing if it makes you happy

[amomentsescape]

The Slashers React to You Bringing Home a Kitten

A/N: This is purely for fun. I've only included the Slashers I've written fics for so far. But these types of fics tend to put a smile on my face so I'd be happy to write more of these for whoever wants them (for whichever Slashers people want to see too)!

Michael Myers

Probably the most angry of the Slashers included here

He's not going to kill the kitten by any means, but he isn't happy about it being here

It's another mouth to feed, another thing that needs to be quieted

If you're able to keep the kitten quiet and away from Michael, then the killer will more so become indifferent to it

It makes you happy and doesn't bother him? Cool, do what you will

However, if he feels that it's becoming a nuisance, he'd happily leave a door open on "accident"

It was already difficult enough for him to create a bond with you

But with a kitten that can't even talk to him?

Yeah, he'd rather not

Jason Voorhees

Oh my

A cute innocent creature that is super sweet to him?

It's basically just another you

And he likes you, so he immediately likes the kitten

This man wreaks havoc and leaves behind human blood trails all the time

However, he doesn't really want to hurt any animals

These furry creatures have caused him no harm

They never judged him based on his appearance

They were never cruel or bullied him like other people did

In fact, he was fascinated with all sorts of animals as a child

Kittens were no exception

So you come home with a cuddly little cat that enjoys to cuddle up with him?

He'll take it happily

Brahms Heelshire

He's kinda eh with this at first

The house is huge, and it's not like a tiny kitten is going to take up much space here

But what this kitten does take up is more of your attention

And Brahms being Brahms, he starts to become jealous

Your attention went from being solely on him to now being divided with this animal that could clearly fend for itself

You need to feed it, cuddle it, and give it attention?

That's what you should be doing with him

He definitely has a few moments where he debates "getting rid" of the kitten

But then he pictures your crying face and decides against it

But he still considers it from time to time

However, if you are able to turn kitten time into Brahms-and-kitten-time, then he might learn to like it

Animals freak him out slightly since he's not really used to having them around

But he could learn to deal with it eventually

Just make sure you divide up your attention equally

Billy Loomis

He's more of a dog person honestly

But you were swooning and aw-ing over this poor little thing so Billy gave in

You were probably just going to keep nagging him about it anyways

He's definitely like one of those dads that insist they don't want a pet but eventually fall in love with it

Billy will never admit this though

But you can see it

Over the span of a couple weeks, Billy went from just eyeing the kitten to letting it crawl and sleep in his lap

He tries to act all nonchalant about it

But the moment you look away

His eyes are on the kitten and a gentle smile graces his features

Okay so maybe the kitten isn't that bad

But maybe you're just making him all soft

He's secretly not complaining though

Stu Macher

Literally all for it

He loves cats, dogs, hamsters, all animals pretty much

He might honestly become more obsessed over this little kitten than you

He most definitely wants to dress it up like Ghostface

Like are you kidding?

How adorable is that

You can hear loud footsteps in the middle of the night

And when you check, Stu is chasing the kitten back and forth during it's zoomies

Buys (and steals) all sorts of toys for the little thing

Lets it sleep on his chest at night

He's obsessed with this kitten and you

It's like his own little family

And he's honestly super happy with that

Eric Draven

Have you learned anything about Eric?

He loves cats

He does want the kitten and Gabriel to get along though

But if they make quick friends, then great

He plays around with the kitten pretty often

And he's overall just happy to have another something in his life to bring a little joy

The kitten chills with Eric outside while he plays guitar

The only issue is that the kitten would rather spend more time with Eric than you

Tries to play with the crow

The bird just caws annoyedly and flys off

Eric and you both cuddle up at night with the kitten in the middle

It's a pretty relaxing domestic life to be honest

#slashers x reader #slasher summer #ghostface x reader #scream #scream 1996 #scream movie #kitten #slasher imagines #slasher fandom #slashers preference #slashers headcanon #michael myers headcanons #michael myers x reader #michael myers #jason voorhes x reader #jason voorhees headcanons #jason voorhees x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms x reader #brahms heelshire #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis headcanon #billy loomis #stu macher x reader #stu macher #eric draven x reader #eric draven #the crow 1994 #the crow movie #halloween movie

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

can we get soft angst hcs of caine comforting a reader who entered the circus but found solace in escaping their old life?

Dang it didn't take long for the requests to come in haha, but yessss I'm eager to write for TADC now!! (just note my hcs/interpretations of the characters will change as more episodes come out).

.......

When you first arrived to the circus not long after Pomni, Caine was worried that you were going to freak out over trying to find an exit (that definitely does NOT exist).

So he just cuts to the chase and states you're stuck here forever. There's no exit doors or hidden portals or secret keys, so you can just give up on returning to your old life altogether.

But you don't look scared in the slightest.

Confused? Yes. Certainly.

However once you've taken in all this information, you just stand there with a smile and a relaxed posture--a display that concerns Caine a lot.

"They seem happy, boss.." Bubble whispers. "Is that a good sign?"

"Not sure. Never seen anybody react this way. Maybe they're just holding it all in and pretending to be fine when they're really no--WOAH, stop the presses!!!" His eyes bulge out of his head/mouth(?) as he sees the tears running down your cheeks. "You're crying more than Gangle does on Tuesday! Is it true that you were masking your emotions????"

"..huh? What..oh no!" You laugh and wipe away the tears, before explaining to the ringmaster that you were indeed very happy.

You spoke of how sad and dull your life was outside of this game.

It was your escape, a comfort, and you've been a huge supporter of its development over the years.

Even in your sleep, you never stopped thinking about it--you always had dreams of being in this very circus, having loads of fun with the other characters and joining their wacky adventures.

So to learn that (somehow) you became a permanent part of the game is literally a dream come true!

Of course, you weren't expecting the presence of the Abstracted and Pomni's constant freakouts, but you couldn't be happier.

Caine was surprised that you remembered so much of your old life (whereas poor Pomni couldn't even recall her own name).

But he sees you're content with starting a new life here in the Digital Circus and grins, eager to plan some exciting fun and games for you to enjoy.

He will, however, make a point to pair you with Pomni so you could help her calm down and show her that being in this virtual world wasn't so bad.

It's probably not the best idea, though, as nothing you say comforts her.

"I mean, your old life could've been really bad and-"

"But what if it was good? What if I had tons of friends and a great family and a successful job and.....oh god..what if I had PETS?!!!" She wails. "Who's gonna take care of them?!!!"

Had she remembered at least one little bad detail from her old life....persuasion would come a lot easier.

But Caine encourages you to keep trying anyways.

#clanask #anonymous #tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #tadc caine #tadc caine x reader #caine x reader #platonic #angst #headcanons

[wheresarizona]

Learning to Live Part 32

summary: It’s the night of his bachelor party, and a sober Javier gets a call from his very drunk fiancée asking him to pick her up from her bachelorette party. Three days later, it’s their wedding day, and Javier hasn’t seen or talked to his bride since the night before—they’d agreed not to see each other until it was time to say ‘I do,’ and his father took it one step further by having her guarded to keep Javier away. Will that really stop him from going to her before the big event (with his eyes covered)?

rating: M (This chapter is very story-driven, BUT there’s a little bit of inappropriate touching. No y/n, alternating POV, age gap (about ten years), Drunk!Reader, bachelor/bachelorette parties, emotional hurt/comfort, dysfunctional family, Javier taking care of you while you’re drunk and when you get sick (it’s very sweet), grief, discussion of pregnancy, WEDDING, getting ready for the wedding, Chucho hardcore not letting you see each other before the wedding, blindfolded Javier sneaking to where you are anyway, tying his bow tie, nerves, panic attack, EMOTIONS, Javier crying when he sees you in your dress, EXTREMELY romantic things said, Javier being cute with kids, you both wrote your own vows (did I mention emotions and romantic things said?), Chucho being a great officiant, (1) bible verse about love with no mention of God/Jesus/anything religious, crying, comedy sprinkled in, a fun and heartfelt chapter)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader (no physical descriptions)

word count: 23k+ (Tumblr hates my long chapters and might not let you reblog with a comment. Since reblogs are super important, if you wish to comment, feel free to do it in the comments on the post or send me an ask. 🥰🥰🥰)

a/n: Get your tissues ready; it’s time to get married! 🥹🥹🥹😭😭😭 First of all, Happy Birthday to this story! 2 years old! I just want to thank everyone who’s continued reading this labor of my love. All the comments, reblogs, and likes mean the world to me! They make me want to write more, too. I know there’s no smut in this one, but, in my opinion, I think it’s still really good, and the people who’ve read it agree. There also was literally no opportunity for them to be alone and do anything more than touching—you can blame Chucho for keeping them apart. But the next chapter? Oh, it’s on. It’s gonna be so horny. Lol Thank you to @juletheghoul for betaing. I love you.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Prev - Next - Series Masterlist - Masterlist

In the year 1981, Ronald Reagan was sworn in as the 40th President of the United States and almost assassinated two months later; the Space Shuttle Columbia became the first crewed reusable spacecraft to return from orbit successfully, and the wedding of Prince Charles and Diana Spencer was watched by over 750 million people worldwide.

It also happened to be the year Javier Peña’s life went to shit.

Looking back at all that happened, he could pinpoint the exact moment everything went wrong. It wasn’t disappearing in the early hours on the day he was supposed to be wed; it was six months earlier when he let a pretty girl, who never once acknowledged his existence in the several years they went to school together, buy him a drink—that was the beginning of the end. That was the start of his downfall and had his life veering off course.

By the time his wedding to Lorraine had rolled around in early September, Javier was at the lowest he'd ever been in his twenty-two years of life—so depressed, hopeless, and scared that he became numb and was just existing instead of living. Back then, he still had buddies in Laredo with whom he'd gone to high school, and though Lorraine didn't let him hang out with them much, she approved of them throwing him a bachelor party the weekend before their nuptials were supposed to take place.

He hadn't wanted one.

Who would want to celebrate marrying someone they didn't love or even liked? Marriage to Lorraine was a prison sentence, and his only crime had been dating the wrong woman. It’d also be a cruel reminder that he’d lose what little freedom he had in a week’s time.

His friends had known him for many years, having practically grown up together, and they were well aware of Javier’s dread. They had tried to talk him out of going through with it on multiple occasions, but he always stood firm that he wouldn’t abandon his child and their mother, and that he got himself into the mess, and he needed to own up to it—plus there was Lorraine’s father who told Javier he’d never meet his kid if he didn’t marry her.

To stop his pals from worrying about him, he finally agreed to the party and tried his best to act like he was fine when, in reality, his world was crumbling.

It may come as a surprise, but he was once a very social creature who had a lot of friends in his youth—his three closest had been Benito Esquivel, Salvador ‘Sal’ Soto, and Ken Miller. These were the guys who packed him into Sal’s moss green colored ‘72 Chevrolet Blazer and took him on a road trip to Austin, where they went bar hopping and ended up at a strip club, as was the course for bachelor parties.

Javier drank so much that night his memory was spotty on all that had happened, yet he distinctly remembered a moment when he was completely wasted in a private room at the club, crying while getting a lap dance and the kind stripper comforting him in the middle of it.

His first bachelor party didn’t go so well and wasn’t something he liked to think back on. He wished he could rip that entire chapter out of his life, but it was important for shaping the man he became—it began a chain of events that would eventually lead him to finding the perfect woman he was meant to be with—the one who truly loved him, wanted nothing more than for him to be happy, and filled that part of him he’d always been missing.

Cielito was the love of his life, his soulmate, his media naranja.

And they shared the same kind of love his parents once had, which he’d always dreamed of having but never imagined he’d actually get to experience.

His buddies had tried to keep in contact with him after he ran away, but he was too ashamed of how he left and didn't want their pity. It wasn't until his mother's funeral in '91 that he saw most of them again, and though he appreciated them being there, he kept them at arm's length. Even when he returned home in '93 and '96, he continued avoiding them because he wasn’t the same Javi they once knew, and he didn’t want to see the looks on their faces when they realized how fucked up he’d become.

Now, he was having his second bachelor party seventeen years after the first, and he couldn’t be happier celebrating that he was getting married in a few days.

This time around, his dad planned the party, and there wasn’t any bar hopping or strip clubs. Instead, Chucho got Javier’s tíos (uncles) and male primos (cousins) together for an asada (barbecue) in his backyard.

It was close to midnight, and he knew the party wouldn’t end any time soon. His family were sitting in groups, taking up the picnic table, or sitting with him in lawn chairs around the large fire pit, which was currently ablaze, with the tall flames licking up toward the sky. He’d already eaten and was nursing his third beer over the many hours he’d been there, the bottle in his hand resting on his jean-clad thigh. The fire and his black leather jacket were keeping him warm while he listened to his friend Ken, sitting beside him talking about his four-year-old daughter’s recent T-ball game.

“—so she hits the ball off the tee,” he said, “and throws her bat as hard as she can behind her at the backstop—which, thank fuck they don’t have catchers—and starts runnin’ as fast as her little legs can go, only to stop halfway to first base to pick up the ball and chuck it with all her might out of bounds.”

Javier chuckled and sipped his drink—he couldn’t wait to tell these kinds of stories about his own children.

“Clever kid,” Benito replied, sitting on his other side. “How pissed off was Emily when she didn’t get to stay on first base?”

“You know Em, Benny. That little girl is more fiery than the hair on her head.” Her father had dark blonde hair, and she had bright red, yet both shared ocean-blue eyes.

A few months back, Javier felt like he was finally in a place where he could reconnect with his old friends. He’d gone out for drinks with Benito and Ken a few times to catch up, and they’d shown him pictures of their families; Ken had three daughters, and Emily was his youngest and the only one with red hair. He’d even introduced his wif-fiancée to them and took her to have dinner with them and their wives—it was nice.

He tried to reach out to Sal, but the other man was a part of the Special Forces in the army and had spent more time deployed than at home since Desert Storm—Benito and Ken said he was okay, or as okay as a guy can be after spending so many years in active duty. It made Javier feel like a real asshole for avoiding them for so long when they’d just wanted to be there for him like they were for Sal, who’d been through more dangerous and worse shit than him.

By no means were he and his old friends back to having the tight bond they shared when they were twenty-two or had anything close to his relationship with Steve—they’d grown too far apart and were virtually strangers now. That didn’t mean it wasn’t great to hang out with people who knew him before Lorraine and hadn’t taken her side or were judgemental of the choices he made.

“Big tantrum?” Benito asked.

“A complete meltdown. You’re gonna love havin’ kids, Jav.” Ken patted him on the shoulder.

“They have their moments,” Benito added, “pero, dios mio, mi vida no sería la misma sin ellos (but, my god, my life wouldn’t be the same without them). I love my little terrors.” He had five children; his littlest wasn’t even a year old.

“Yeah,” Javier said fondly. “I’m really fucking excited to have kids and get married.”

The other two men were smiling.

“And that’s how it always should’ve been,” Ken replied. “That’s how we know you’re marryin’ the right girl this time. It’s great to see how happy you are—and Benny and I can tell you’re actually happy.”

“Yeah,” Benito said, “‘Cause you’re smiling this time around and not crying—that stripper, though, what was her name? Diamond? Ruby? Shit, what was it?”

“Jade, maybe?” Ken answered. “You should remember, Benny, you’re the one she took home.”

“I can remember her amazing tits and ass, but couldn’t tell you what the hell she looked like or her name.”

Javier couldn’t remember what she looked like or her name either, which made him frown.

“Do you guys have that one woman you can remember every fucking detail about the first time you hooked up?” Benito asked. “She haunts you—I’m talking her face is burned in your brain, and you can remember everything like what she smelled like or how soft her skin was?”

“Yeah,” Ken said. “That girl, my third year in college.” He raised his beer bottle.

“The one who deepthroated you for the first time? You wouldn’t shut up about her.”

“That’s the one—too bad she wasn’t lookin’ for anythin’ serious. Best sex I’ve ever had; don’t tell my wife that.” Ken and Benito chuckled.

“Mine was Carmen’s roommate.” Carmen was Benito’s wife and someone they went to school with. “We had a casual thing before I started dating Carmen—her name was Valentina, and mi mamá would not have liked her, which was fine; she wasn’t wife material anyway.”

What did he mean by that?

“What about you, Javi?” Ken asked.

“I’m marrying mine,” he answered and took a drink of his beer.

Benito scoffed. “Are you just saying that shit, or do you mean it?”

He met the other man’s eyes.

“I’m being completely serious. She’s it, and I’m marrying her.”

Benito blew out air, shaking his head. “You lucky pendejo (asshole).”

“Now you gotta tell us what she’s like,” Ken said, and this conversation just took a turn in a direction he did not want to go in—even when he was younger, he didn’t like to brag about what went on in the bedroom.

Javier had never been happier for his cell phone to ring, but the feeling only lasted a moment as he pulled it off his belt before panic slammed into him that something was wrong because it was Cielito calling him. She was out having her bachelorette party with her girlfriends at the town bar.

“I gotta take this,” he said, setting his beer on the ground and groaning as he got up from his chair. He briskly walked out of earshot of everyone else.

His heart was pounding a mile a minute. He hit the accept button and answered when the Nokia phone was at his ear, “Hello?”

“Ohhh myyy god,” his wif-fiancée slurred on the other end. “How do you make ans’ring the phone sooo sexy?”

He let out a breath that she didn’t sound like she was in trouble.

“I don’t know—are you okay, baby?”

"Nooo, I miss you, and I wan’ you and I need you to come ge’ me—can you pleeease come ge’ me? I don' wanna be out anymore—I wanna be at home with you and naked in our bed; wait, have I told you how amazing you fuck? If there-was like an Olympics for fucking, you'd ge’ all the gold medals tha’s how good you are.” She inhaled before she continued speaking. “And your face, god, I miss your stupidly han’some face with your big baby cow eyes tha’ Daphne and Velma totally inherited from you, and tha’ gorgeous nose, and your lips—everything on tha’ mug of yours is perfec,’ and I canno’ believe you’re marrying me. Me?! How the fuck did I ge’ so lucky?! Like, you’re too pretty for me, and usu’lly, the pretty boys jus’ wan’ my family’s money—like fucking Daniel,” she fumed. “But you jus’ like me for me, and I’m sooo in love with you tha’ I canno’ stand bein’ so far away from you righ’ now. Javiii, can you pleeease come pick me up?"

Oh, she was drunk and missed him.

With how sloshed she sounded, it had him worried she hadn’t eaten much food or had enough water, and he wanted to go to her right that second to get her home and sober her up so she wasn’t too miserable the next day. He was trying to ignore what she said about her ex, but the more he learned about the guy, the higher the chances rose that he’d kick the fucker’s ass if they ever met.

"Are you sure you want to leave early?" he asked.

"Yesss, pleeease. I wanna go home wit’ you."

"Are you somewhere safe, cariño (sweetheart)?" It didn’t sound like she was inside the bar.

“I’m ou’side the backdoor where people smoke—Stacy and Arleta from the grocery store are ou’ here wit’ meee. Say hi to Javi!”

He could tell she held the phone toward them.

“Hi, Javi,” he heard the two women say. “Are you coming to ge’ me?” Cielito asked.

“Yes, mi amor. I just need to tell everyone bye—don’t hang up.”

He didn't as he quickly walked over to say goodbye and thank his dad, friends, and family for the lovely night, telling them his fiancée wasn't feeling good and he needed to go pick her up—the plan had always been he’d be her designated driver since he hadn’t wanted to drink too much; the rest of the people at her party had their own rides.

His long legs had him striding toward where his pickup was parked.

“Did you have a good time?” he asked her.

His truck door squealed as he opened it and got inside.

“Yesss! There was karaoke and I had a lot of tequila. Like a lot. Like sooo much, I sang “My Heart Will Go On” from Titanic withou’ anyone daring me to—tha’ movie is sooo fucking sad. If we were in the freezing water and you pu’ me on a door or whatever piece of wood, you beh your ass I’m gonna figure ou’ a way to ge’ you on it with me. I’m not gonna be a fucking liar and say I won’ leggo and fucking leggo! You’re gonna be like nex’ to me, or hell, you could ge’ on top of me, and we’d survive—I’d make sure we both survived.”

She made him smile because this wasn’t the first time she’d gone on this rant.

He was already on the road heading toward town.

“I’d make sure we survived, too, baby. I’d use my body heat to keep you warm.”

“Why is tha’ sooo romantic? Honestly, I think you’d figure ou’ a way to ge’ us into one of the lifeboats.”

“Probably.” He shrugged.

“And then we’d ge’ to Amer’ca and start our new life together and have sooo many babies.”

He was still smiling. “Yeah—so many babies?”

“It was ye olden times when the only thing women could do was take care of their husbands and babies, plus there was basic’ly no birth control and you only cream pie, sooo yeah, we’d hav’ a ridic’lous amoun’ of babies.”

“I wanna have a ridiculous amount of babies with you now.”

“God, I know you do, and I wanna have all your babies, all of them, ‘cause you’re gonna be the bes’ dad. Like, the bes’, and our kids will be sooo lucky to have you, and they’re gonna love you sooo much and be so cute—I hope they look like you—you were sush a cutie, and I’d love to have a bunch of mini yous.”

“I want them to look like the both of us.”

“Meh, you’re cuter.”

“Stop that, you’re fucking adorable, and I’d love if our kids looked like you.”

“Fine.”

“Why’d you drink so much tequila, mi amor? That stuff makes us—”

“Horny?” she finished for him. “Our clothes magic’ly disappear.” Her speech was still slurring. “Robyn got us Tequila Sunrises, then Cat—” That was the wife of one of her coworkers at the hospital; they hung out with the couple occasionally. “—got us another round of them, bu’ Alma—” His prima (cousin) and sister of Sebastián. “—got us all tequila shots, and I also got us tequila shots, and I think there was another round—too much tequila, whish is why I called you to pick me up.”

His mouth turned down in a frown.

“Please tell me you had some food, too, and water.”

“Yesss, I knew you’d worry, so I ate a plate of fries and shared mozz-mozzarella.” She giggled. “Tha’s a fun word to say—I shared mozzarella sticks with the girls, and I drank water—had a glass aft’r ev’ry drink ‘cause I was-like, ‘If my Javi were here righ’ now, he’d wan’ me staying hydrated,’ and I couldn’ le’ you down.”

He smiled. “Thank you, baby. I’m proud of you.”

There was someone in the background who sounded just as drunk as her, asking her, “Wha’ are you doin’ out here?” It was Robyn.

“Calling Javi,” Cielito answered.

“Come back inside. You said you were goin’ pee.”

“I wen’ and Javi’s comin’ to pick me up. I’m waitin’ for him to ge’ here.”

“Girl, it’s barely pas’ midnigh’, and your bachelorette party! Leave the man alone and have fun with us! We’ll get pie after here at the diner.” It was open twenty-four hours.

“I need him,” she whined.

“Oh my god, you’re ditchin’ us for dick!”

“It’s really good dick, and I need it!”

“Mi amor?” Javi said to get her attention.

“Yes?” she answered.

“I’m not gonna fool around with you while you’re fucked up…”

“I know,” she whispered. “Don’ tell anyone, bu’ I’m too drunk, and I hate it. I wanna go home.”

“Okay, cariño (sweetheart). I’ll be there soon to pick you up.”

Another voice was heard on her end. “Why are you guys ou’ here?” He was pretty sure it was his prima, Alma.

“She’s ditchin’ us for dick!” Robyn exclaimed.

“I told you it’s really good dick!” Cielito said just as loud.

“Gross!” Alma was slurring her words, too, and sounded disgusted. “You’re gonna-make-me puke!”

“Sorry, Alma,” the other two women replied in unison.

“It’s okay,” Alma said. “You’re leaving already? I don’ wan’ you to go. We’re having so mush fun!”

“Yeah, don’ go!” He thought that was Cat. “This is the only night I can go ou’ alone this month! Le’s keep partying!”

“I’m sorry, guys,” Cielito responded. “Tequila was a mistake, and I need to go home.”

Javier figured she’d forgotten he was on the phone with her.

“I’m horny, too,” Robyn said, “bu’ you don’ see me booty callin’ my boyfriend to ge’ me, and he’s got really good dick, too!”

“¡Guácala (Gross)!” Alma interjected. “No sé por qué salgo contigo (I don’t know why I hang out with you).”

“Because we’re fun!” Robyn said. “Don’ lie, you loved it when I got our bride-to-be to rap “Shoop” with me.” Javier only knew that Salt-N-Pepa song because he’d heard his bride-to-be rap it on many occasions—she was really good, to be honest.

“You are fun, bu’ who wan’s to hear about their brother and cousin’s sex lives?”

“Sorry, Alma,” Robyn and Cielito said again.

“You all can still have fun withou’ me!” his wif-fiancée told them.

“A bachelorette party withou’ a bachelorette?” Robyn asked.

“I think that jus’ makes it a girls' night out—yeah, you can have a girls' night out! Fuck, where’s Javi? Did I tell you guys he’s comin’ to ge’ me? Wait, my phone! Javi, are you still there?”

“Yes, baby, I’m still here.”

“Where are you?”

“Maybe ten minutes away.”

“Ugh, okay.” She whispered the next bit loudly, “Robyn’s mad at me.”

“Damn straigh,’ I’m mad at you!” Robyn said. “It’s your bachelorette party, and you’re abandonin’ us for a man!”

“But he’s like a really grea’ man, and wonderful, and han’some, and the bes’, and I love him so, so, so, sooo, mush and wanna have his babies. So, I’m not abandonin’ you for ‘a man,’ I’m abandonin’ you for the greates’ man alive, and you can’ be mad at me for tha’.”

What she said had Javier grinning.

“Y’all are too disgustingly in love, but wha’ever, nex’ girls' night, no fuckin’ tequila.”

She forgot he was on the phone with her again and listened to their drunken discussion about what they should do for a girls' night, going off topic a few times. Her friends stayed with her until he arrived.

He pulled into the parking lot and stopped at the back of the building where he saw the group of women and some other bar patrons hanging out by the door, the area lit by two lights on the building.

“Cielito?” he said, hoping it’d get her attention. “Are you still there?”

“Oh my god, Javi!” Came her exclamation. “Where are you?!”

The truck was put into park, and he kept it idling as he got out.

“To your left.”

Her head turned to the right, making him snort with a smile on his lips.

“Your other left, mi amor,” he said. He’d walked around to open the passenger door, and her gaze finally landed on him under the orangeish glow of a towering street light.

“He’s here!” she squealed, and he ended the call, putting his phone back on his belt. He watched her shove her own in her purse before she hugged all of her friends goodbye.

Javier had seen the dress she was going to wear tonight; he just hadn’t seen her wearing it. When she turned his way and he got a good look at her, his mouth fell open, and he thought his heart would beat out of his chest like a cartoon character in love.

The champagne-colored mini dress was long-sleeved and covered in sequins, the neckline plunging to accentuate her breasts, the skirt ending just a little above her knees, a white sash across her chest reading in fancy black script, ‘Bride-to-Be,’ and she looked fucking stunning.

His awe ended when he suddenly had to act fast and catch the woman he loved who flung herself into his arms—he grunted at her body slamming into him, her lips crashing into his, wrapping his arms around her back to feel her skin from the deep V down her back.

The smell of booze hit him almost as hard as she did, along with the undertones of her perfume, Javier tensing when she grabbed his ass. With how she was hitching her leg up on his waist, he thought she was trying to climb him like a goddamn tree.

“Mmm… hi, baby,” his muffled voice said.

His hand went to her face, his thumb under her chin, and fingers splayed along her cheek as he gently pushed to separate her mouth from his. Her eyelids were closed, and her lips pursed.

“Hi, baby,” he said again. “Did you miss me?”

She smiled. “Yesss.” Her glassy, bloodshot eyes blinked open, and it was obvious she was utterly blitzed; there was no way in hell she could pass a field sobriety test. “God, you’re sooo gorgeous—look at your cute nose—” She poked the tip of it. “—boop. Your eyes are sooo pretty, and you smell sooo good—you always smell so fucking good. I love you so, sooo much.” She pecked him on the lips. “I’m sooo happy you’re here.”

She looked so cute and it had him smiling.

“Yeah?” He shrugged off his jacket and put it over her shoulders.

“Mmm, tha’s nice and warm. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Cielito. You ready to go?”

“Oh my god, yesss!”

“Okay, let’s get you into the truck, hermosa (beautiful).”

He helped her get up into the cab, closing the door behind her. Seconds later, he was in the driver’s seat, with her pressed right against him.

“I’m sooo happy we’re going home,” she said, hugging his arm closest to her.

“I’m happy we’re going home, too, Cielito—let’s get you buckled.”

He leaned over her to grab the seatbelt, getting it over her lap and buckling it in, ensuring it wasn’t loose, before getting his own belt on.

The short drive to their apartment had her in his space, kissing his cheek and neck while telling him how much she loved him, and it was so sweet that warmth spread through his body.

When they arrived, Javier had to keep her steady as they walked with an arm around her waist, making her lean into him. Once inside, he propped her against the front door to remove his coat from her shoulders and her sash, hanging them with the other jackets on the wall. Then, he pulled her purse from her arm, putting it on the console table, and he helped her remove the flats on her feet, kicking off his shoes afterward.

Her eyes were closed most of the time while she mumbled, a lot of it he didn’t understand, but what he did make out was her confessing her love for him and waxing poetic about how attractive she found him—it was adorable.

He wanted to get her sober, so he helped steady her as they made their way to the kitchen, moving past the counters and appliances to the small connected dining room and having her sit in a kitchen chair, pushing her close to the table in order to keep her from falling onto the floor.

Javier’s palm rubbed circles into her back. “Cielito?”

Her head tilted up in his direction, looking at him with red, glossy eyes and a big, dreamy smile.

“You’re pretty.” Her speech wasn’t slurring as much. “And you’re marrying me. I can’t believe you’re marrying me. We should blow this popsicle stand and go back to our place to have premarital sex—gotta do as much of that as we can before we’re married and our sexy times become legal.”

His eyebrows pulled together. “What do you mean by the sex becoming legal?” he asked.

“You know, sex is only legal to God when the couple is married—we won’t be living in sin anymore; gosh, that’s gonna make your dad sooo happy. I love your dad. He’s the fucking best. Let's make him your mom’s flan next weekend ‘cause that dude deserves it—man, I’m hungry.”

“We’ll make him flan, baby.” His hand cupped her cheek. “Can I make you some buttered toast?” That seemed like a safe choice and shouldn’t make her sick.

Her eyes lit up. “Oh my god, toast sounds fucking amazing!”

He smiled. “Okay, mi amor. I’ll make you some.”

Javier bent to kiss the top of her head before padding into the kitchen.

Making her two slices of toast and having her eat them, along with drinking a large glass of water, didn’t take too long—there were a few times he had to remind her about the bread because she was so chatty; at one point she went on an entertaining tangent about how those mythical half horse, half human creatures, centaurs, would wear pants, and even made him tear off a page from the notepad on the fridge, so she could draw him visuals on why the correct answer was the pants would go on the back part of their horse body.

Jesus Christ, he was so fucking in love with her.

He felt better after she finished her snack and drink with how her speech sounded clearer and that she didn’t seem as fucked up as when she called him from the bar—she was definitely still a little drunk since she couldn’t walk without stumbling, and her eyes were having a hard time staying open.

His next priority was making her comfortable. He led her to the bedroom, where he carefully replaced her dress and bra with his olive green t-shirt, leaving her in the shirt and her cute cotton panties she already had on that were covered in red hearts.

He took her to the bathroom, where he sat her up on the countertop and stood between her legs to keep her in place.

“Cielito,” he said, grabbing a wet wipe, “I’m gonna clean off your makeup, okay?”

There was a big smile on her face, her eyelids shut. “Mmmkay, you’re sooo nice.”

He pressed it to her face to begin removing her makeup. When that was done, he used a warm washcloth to dampen the skin he’d cleaned and grabbed her face wash off the counter, which was amongst her other skincare products. He used his fingertips to apply it to her skin, starting with her cheeks, then down her jaw to her chin, and back up to spread it along her nose before doing her forehead last.

He used the wet cloth to wipe away the cleanser when she spoke.

“Did you just wash my face?” she asked.

“Yeah?” He’d finished, and her skin was finally completely clean and looking dewy. Her face wash was put away, and his eyes squinted as he read the labels of the other products until he found what he needed and picked it up. He’d seen her do her skincare routine more times than he could count and had the basics down; the serums and special creams intimidated him, though.

His fingers were massaging the moisturizer into her skin along the same path they’d taken with the cleanser.

“Is that moisturizer?”

“Yes.”

Her breath stuttered, her mouth turning into a frown, and he matched her look.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, leaning toward the sink when he was done to wash his hands. He then dried them with the towel on his other side hanging on the wall.

Her bottom lip was trembling, and it worried him.

“You love me,” she whispered.

“I do,” he said and kissed her forehead. “I love you so fucking much.” His hands rubbed over her bare thighs.

She opened her eyes, and they were welling up, glistening under the lights above.

“You love me,” she repeated.

He held her cheeks. “Yes, sweetheart, I love you—I love you more than anything.”

Her voice was so small. “Why doesn’t my family love me?” With tears rolling down her face, her question shattered his heart into a million pieces.

“Oh, Cielito, baby.” His tone was soft, and he wrapped her up in his arms, hugging her tight, her face going into the crook of his neck. “They’re assholes and they don’t deserve you.”

Her body started shaking with sobs, and it had his chest squeezing tight, his eyes getting watery, wishing with every cell of his being to make her feel better.

She was the strongest and bravest woman he knew, who didn’t like to show any sign of weakness, and ever since her parents’ unexpected and unwanted visit earlier in the week, she had acted like she was fine in an attempt to hide her sadness.

The day after he was offered a large sum of money to leave her, they’d gone over to his father’s to use the fax machine in his office—the office was in its own little building across the driveway from his house—and she faxed Jerry, her parents’ lawyer, a typed letter that conveyed her disappointment in how they acted and also told them to never contact her again which she signed at the bottom. She changed her home and cell phone numbers and discussed with him possibly moving to the ranch earlier than they originally planned.

He’d tried to talk to her about everything, but she’d put on this smile he knew wasn’t genuine by the lack of its usual luster, and she was unable to keep the sorrow from showing in her eyes—it killed him how her usual happy glow had dimmed from her hurt. She’d reassure him she was okay, reminding him that her family made their choice and had to live with the consequences of it, but she also had to live with the consequences of their actions and deal with the emotions of never seeing or speaking to her loved ones again. He was expecting the façade to break at some point, and it took inebriation to cause her carefully crafted walls to finally crumble.

To add salt to their wounds, Javier was served at work the following day after the fax was sent, with a lawsuit for breach of contract from her mom and dad.

What were they trying to sue him for? Going against his word to not tell their daughter about their visit and proposition, thus breaching a verbal contract that was made. He’d laughed as he called Chucho’s attorney because they never fucking agreed with his terms and, instead, had countered with the damn prenup. They didn’t have a fucking case, and it was dropped by the next day.

Javier was so unbelievably pissed off at these people for what they’d done to the woman he loved that he knew there was no way in hell he’d ever be able to have a civil conversation with them again. It was possible it’d turn into a physical altercation, and he’d end up in jail, which he honestly thought would be worth it if he got the chance to punch her dad in his stupid fucking face.

“They’re my family,” she choked out, “they’re supposed to love me—why don’t they love me? Why am I so unlovable?”

“Mi amor, you’re not unlovable—I love you, Pop loves you, my tías (aunts), tíos (uncles), and primos (cousins) love you, Robyn loves you, mi mamá loves you—you’re loved. We love you, baby. Those people you’re related to are shitty and so blinded by their obsession with money and how they’re perceived that they wouldn’t know what unconditional love was if it bit them in the ass. They’re horrible fucking people, and you don’t need them, Cielito. You don’t.”

“But they’re my family!” she cried. Her tears were soaking through his shirt. “It doesn’t feel right that they aren’t going to be at our wedding, and it hurts so fucking much that they don’t support us!”

He kissed her hair, rubbing circles on her back with his palm. “I know, cariño (sweetheart). I know you’re hurt and that it’s fucked they won’t be there.” It was hard for him to swallow around the lump that’d formed, his eyes burning, and he squeezed them shut. “I’m sorry you fell in love with me and that I’m not good enough for them or good enough for you. I’m sorry for causing all this shit and the pain you’re feeling. I’m sorry, baby—it’s all my fault,” his voice cracked on the last word. He had to clear his throat. “But I’d do it all again because you deserve to be loved—you deserve all the fucking love in the world. Your family is supposed to love you because they’re your family, and our kids will love you no matter what because you’re their amazing mom, but me? I’m choosing to love you with every fucking thing I have because you’re incredible and so lovable.” His cheeks were wet from his own tears. “I love you, Cielito—I promise I’ll love you enough to make up for them. I promise I’ll love you so much you’ll get sick of me. I love you, Cielito. You’re my everything, and I hope my love’s enough…”

She sniffled loudly, her head rising, and he opened his eyes to meet her reddened ones, her face streaked with wetness.

Her voice was hoarse. “It’s not your fault,” she said, her hands in the small space between their bodies, clutching his button-up shirt. “You have nothing to be sorry about, and you’re enough—you’ve always been enough. It just hurts how hateful the people who are supposed to want me to be happy are toward what makes me happy.” More tears fell down her cheeks. “You’re what makes me happy, and they don’t accept you.” Her lower lip was wobbling. “I’m mad and sad, and I don’t want them to be a part of our lives, but it feels… it feels like they’ve died,” she said quietly. “It feels weird grieving over people who are still breathing, who are just a phone call or a plane ride away. I’m grieving them like they’re dead—are they dead to me? Why am I grieving what little relationship we had, yet also grieving the relationship we could’ve had? One where they welcomed you with open arms, and even if it wasn’t your favorite thing to do, we visited them once a year—you’d joke around with my brother, we’d fawn over his many children, and my parents would actually be impressed with what you did in Colombia and brag to their friends about their son-in-law who helped take down Pablo fucking Escobar and did take out the Cali cartel. Why am I so fucking sad about living people and a fantasy?”

He stroked his fingers along her cheek to cup it. “I don’t remember much from my mother’s funeral ‘cause my head was pretty fucked up, but there was something the Priest said that stuck with me. ‘Grief is just all the love you had for someone that suddenly has nowhere to go.’ So, it collects inside you, makes your chest ache, and leaks from your eyes—it fills all the places that were left empty by their loss. I’ll always feel my mom here—” He put a hand over his heart. “—but over time, a lot of my grief slowly disappeared, and you’ve made it easier to live with what’s left.” He took a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is I don’t think what you’re feeling is weird. They might be alive, but you lost the only family you’ve ever known and are grieving the death of your relationship with them—now there’s all that love you still have for them that has no place to go, so it’s filling the emptiness they left behind, and it’s gonna take some time to heal.” He held her face in both of his hands. “It’s okay that you're sad, Cielito, but you don’t need to hide it from me or pretend that you’re okay because I know you’re not, and I don’t want you going through this alone. I’ll be your shoulder to cry on; I’ll hold you or talk things out with you. I’ll do whatever you need me to do to help ease your pain. Just please don’t shut me out.”

She was frowning, her eyes darting away as she spoke softly, “I knew if you saw I was upset, it’d make you sad, and I didn’t wanna make you sad so close to our wedding—this should be a happy time for us, but all I wanna do is lay in the dark and cry.”

“Baby?” His finger went under her chin to make her look at him, their gazes meeting. “Don’t worry about my feelings, and let me be there for you—I’d rather be sad with you than have you suffer alone in silence. Now, let me get you to bed so I can hold you while you cry.”

Her smile was small, and her eyes were glossy with tears. “I’d like that.” Suddenly, she looked panicked, her hand going to her mouth. “Move,” said her muffled voice. “I’m gonna be sick.”

“Shit.” He immediately helped her off the counter, for her to stumble the handful of steps and drop to her knees in front of the toilet, where she did, in fact, get sick.

It took a lot to gross out Javier—he grew up on a ranch, where he witnessed animal births and deaths regularly. Combine that with the horrible things he’d seen in Colombia, someone throwing up was a welcome change.

“Oh, mi probecita (my poor thing),” he said, spinning around to the wall opposite the bathroom vanity to get a small rag from the linen closet before moving back to the sink to wet it with cold water. “Déjame cuidarte, Cielito (Let me take care of you, Cielito). Sé que no te gusta enfermarte (I know you don’t like getting sick).”

She’d told him that when she had a little too much fun at a party playing drinking games with his primos (cousins) and found herself on his old bathroom floor, hugging porcelain with Javier there for support—they’d ended up being too drunk to drive home and spent the night in his childhood bed.

He wrung out the washcloth and walked over to her, a grunt leaving him and knees popping as he lowered himself to kneel next to her. He pressed the cloth to the back of her neck with one hand while the other rubbed comforting circles over her spine.

His tone was warm and gentle. “Get it all out, baby. I know it’s awful, and you hate it, but it’ll make you feel better.”

It didn’t take long for her stomach to empty and her heaving to stop. Her breaths were coming out ragged, and Javier took care of flushing the toilet. He scooted back and pulled her with him, the tiled floor cool underneath them, until he had room to stretch out his legs in front of him while she sat between them with her spine to his chest, her eyes closed.

He held the wet cloth to her forehead, the fingers of his free hand laced with hers, and kissed her hair.

“How are you feeling?” he whispered.

“I’m never drinking again,” she mumbled.

He huffed amusedly and smiled, placing a kiss behind her ear.

“Liar,” he said. “You said that last time you drank too much.”

“I mean it this time.”

“Uh-huh, right.”

“I do—this is embarrassing.”

“I think it’s good practice.”

He knew the look on her face was one of confusion without seeing it. “Practice for what?”

“If you get morning sickness.” He kissed the side of her neck.

“Oh, god,” she whined. “Why can’t we be seahorses?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Seahorses?”

“Yeah, male seahorses do the whole pregnancy and birth thing—that’s the fucking dream.”

He thought about it for a second, taking into account how badly he wanted kids, and it was really fucking weird to say this out loud, “If I could… I’d, uh, do that for us…”

He could hear her smiling. “You’d have my babies?”

Javier inhaled deeply and slowly let it out. “...yes.”

“I know the scenario is weirding you out, and it’s sweet of you to say you would, but I’m not sure if, given the opportunity, you’d actually do it—which is fine. Pregnancy and childbirth are scary, and it just proves that mothers are more badass than fathers.”

“You’re definitely more badass than me.”

“I appreciate you saying that, man who literally hunted bad guys for a living and had a bounty on his head.”

“You are, and since you’re taking the brunt of everything for us to have a kid, I promise I’ll do whatever possible, so all you’ll have to worry about is growing our baby and working.” She’d made it clear that when she got pregnant, she was still going to work until either the baby was born or the Doctor told her to stop.

“You know, I think we’re gonna crush being married and becoming parents.”

He smiled. “We are because we’re equals, even if you’re more badass than me.”

“We are equals, and thank you for acknowledging my badassery, man who helped eliminate two of the biggest cartels in the world.”

He snorted. “Smartass. How are you feeling?”

“A little drunk, sad, and I’ve got the spins.”

“Do you still feel sick?”

“Not really—just dizzy.”

“Do you want me to help you brush your teeth and then get you comfortable in bed?”

“That actually sounds wonderful because my mouth feels icky, and I’d like to cuddle.”

“Okay, mi amor.”

He started to move, but she stopped him with her hand on his arm as she said, “Javi?”

“Yes, Cielito?”

“You’re worth it.”

“Worth what…?”

“The pain and sadness over my family. You bring me so much love and happiness that I know it’ll outshine the hurt in no time, and this low I’m in is only temporary. You’re worth it and more than enough—your love is all I need. I love you.”

His throat was feeling tight, and he spoke softly. “I love you, too.” His arms went around her middle, and he didn’t squeeze as he hugged her to not hurt her stomach. He still wanted to hold her, his chin resting on her shoulder and their heads touching. “I’m happy I’m worth it to you, and just know that I’m yours; I’m here for you—good, bad, it doesn’t fucking matter because I’m not going anywhere, and we’ll get through anything together.” His lips pressed to her hair. “I tell you I love you a lot, but I hope you understand that I love you more than words can accurately describe—I love you, Cielito. I love you, and I promise I’ll be yours forever.”

Her hand came up behind her to press her fingers into his hair. “Yeah, we’re gonna crush being husband and wife.”

She made him smile. “Less than seventy-two hours, Mrs. Peña.”

“And I can’t fucking wait, Mr. Peña.”

The town of Laredo was buzzing with the news Javier Peña was getting married—yes, the same Javier Peña who left his first bride at the altar, had tumbled in the hay with many of the girls he’d gone to school with, and was apparently some kind of lothario in South America.

It really bothered you how fucking interested and judgmental the townspeople were of his sex life.

Your wedding with him was all anyone could talk about, and the bar was even taking bets on whether or not he’d disappear again, which was fucked up, but Chucho gladly put five hundred dollars on his son marrying you because he knew it was easy money. There was so much interest in how things would turn out that people you either barely knew or had never met approached you both like they were old friends of Javi’s to try and get invites—they were politely rejected with the excuse there wasn’t enough room.

According to Robyn, your wedding had the same amount of hype as your fiancé’s first, and though Javi hated that, you really hoped it annoyed the fuck out of his ex.

When you discussed how you wanted to tie the knot, your husband-to-be agreed the ceremony should be attended by a select few, and afterward, there’d be a big party to celebrate with the rest of your friends and family. Once the date was decided, the planning started immediately since there was so little time.

Chucho and his sisters would make a killing as wedding planners. They sat you and Javi down to get an idea of what you wanted the party to be like, a color scheme, and a budget, then told you guys not to worry and that they’d take care of everything. All the two of you had to do was approve things, hand over cash, and get your rings, which wasn’t too much of a hassle since you wanted simple matching gold bands.

Something you loved about the family you were marrying into was how they were all there for each other and so tight-knit—your fiancé's dad and tías managed to get all that was needed in less than a month with the help of his primos, and by calling in favors from their friends.

Javier and you didn't want anything extravagant. The party would occur in Chucho's backyard, under a giant white pole tent. Tables, chairs, and a dance floor had to be rented, and it was highway robbery how much the local place wanted to charge—Lorraine’s family frequently used them for their events, and you wouldn’t put it past her father to be the cause of such an exorbitant price just to spite Javi for wasting the absurd amount of money he spent on Lorraine’s first wedding. Luckily, on such short notice, tía Lupita’s oldest son, Matías, had a friend who knew a guy an hour away in Zapata who ran a party rental store and could get them everything at a reasonable price.

The tías, along with their daughters/daughters in law were handling food; Anna, who was friends with Javi in high school, had a bakery and was taking care of making the cake and Mexican wedding cookies that were tiny, buttery, ball-shaped, melt-in-your-mouth, powdered sugar-covered cookies, dotted with crushed nuts like pecans, walnuts, and almonds, and traditionally served at weddings and Christmas; tío Ángel and tía María’s husband were in charge of getting alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages, and Ángel’s youngest son Diego was going to DJ, as it was his side hustle and he’d been paid to do gigs at other parties in town and in a couple of big city clubs.

An hour and a half before you were to be wed, practically every family member of Javi's who lived locally was at the ranch. Many had been there all day setting up the backyard or in the kitchen making food, and every time you tried to help cook, you were shooed away, but your presence was wanted outside to instruct those putting things together on how to arrange and decorate everything inside and out of the tent, and that ended up being what you did until it was time to start getting ready.

Most of Javier’s family and you were there, yet your groom was nowhere to be found and hadn’t set foot on the property in a good sixteen hours.

In that time, you hadn’t seen or talked to him either, and your last interaction was the previous night when he dropped you off at his dad’s—that’s where you spent the night, and thank goodness, Chucho had already gone to sleep when Javi helped you get settled in his old room, because he had a hard time leaving and it led to him fucking you slow and passionately in his ridiculously squeaky bed one last time.

Why were you staying at the ranch? The two of you, encouraged by Javi’s dad, made the decision not to see each other on the day of your nuptials. Since your almost father-in-law would be driving you to where the ceremony was taking place, it made sense for you to sleepover and get ready at his house—the moment Javi left you there in his room that smelled like him, under his sheets that smelled like him, in one of his white t-shirts that smelled like him, you realized it was going to be really difficult and a test of your strength to be away from him for so long, and you both knew, if you spoke even a single word over the phone, the resolve between you would shatter, and he’d be back at Chucho’s for you in record time.

That led to the lack of communication and him getting ready alone at your shared apartment.

You were sitting in a kitchen chair you’d brought into Javi’s old bathroom, wearing a white satin robe cinched tight over your clean body, fresh from the shower and the special undergarments you'd chosen for the big day. Robyn was in front of you in her matching black robe as she did your makeup, something she offered to do and you happily accepted due to how good she was at it. She'd already smoothed out your complexion and hid any imperfections; currently, she was working on your eye shadow.

"Between you and Javi," she said, her attention focused on what she was doing, "your kids are gonna have some pretty eyes."

You smiled. "I think his eyes are prettier, and just imagine tiny versions of them; they'll give me the sad puppy dog eyes, and I'll have no choice but to give them whatever they want."

She giggled. "Your babies will be spoiled."

"I have already accepted that fact—hopefully, they'll take after their dad and be spoiled, but sweet, caring, and well-behaved, and not some little assholes." You frowned. "My brother was a spoiled asshole."

She paused what she was doing to meet your eyes. "Hey, now, we agreed not to think or speak about those people today. We aren't lettin' them sour the best day of your life so far."

"I know," you sighed.

It was the right choice to sever your ties with your family, and you had no regrets; that didn't mean it wasn't hard or hurt any less. Especially today, with it being your wedding day—your mom wasn’t there to help you get ready, nor your dad for a father-daughter dance. They should’ve been there supporting you on the happiest day of your life. Instead, they destroyed whatever relationship you had with them, and it hurt a lot. Even suspecting for years that they had no love for you didn't ease much of the pain of discovering it was true. You felt stupid for caring about these people when they cared so little for you, and you weren't sure why you hadn't cut them out sooner. Was it naively thinking they'd change? Or the ingrained notion that even if you didn't like them, you had to suck it up because they were your family?

It didn't matter now because what they'd done and how they treated the man you loved was unforgivable. There was no chance in hell you’d ever trust them again, and you didn’t want the new life you were starting with Javi to be tainted by their toxicity.

Robyn's cell phone was sitting on the bathroom counter next to your open makeup bag, and it started ringing—nobody wanted to bother you while you got ready, so Robyn was made the point of contact to either deal with what was going on or talk it out with you.

She straightened and turned around to pick it up.

"Why's he callin’?" she mumbled, hitting the accept button and putting the phone to her ear. "What's shakin' bacon? Robyn speakin,’" she answered. "...yes," she told them, "I'm doin' her makeup right now... No... No, you can't... Are you fuckin' kiddin' me? No one is supposed to see her before the wedding... You're a fuckin' liar, and Chucho wouldn’t let you in here anyway... You're ridiculous," she said in exasperation. "But if you swear, on your mama's grave, you won't peek, then I'll allow it... Okay, fine. Give us a sec, then quietly knock—I don't want anyone knowin' you’re here... bye."

She set the phone down and the eyeshadow palette, spinning on her heel to face you and grab your hand.

"Was that who I think it was?" you asked.

She was smiling. "If you’re thinkin’ someone annoyin’ who could get me in more trouble than an armadillo on the highway with your father-in-law, yes—come with me."

Robyn tugged you up to stand and led you into the bedroom, where you both came to a stop.

There were two large windows on the opposite wall beside each side of the bed, sitting half a foot above the floor with closed blinds and red curtains over them. A soft knocking sounded on the one in front of you. You followed Robyn and watched her push apart the curtains, pulling on the string to raise the blinds. Her body blocked your view as she unlocked the window and shoved it up.

"How many fingers am I holdin' up?" she asked the person outside.

"I don't know," Javi answered. "I can't see shit with this thing on."

The sound of his voice had your heart beating faster.

"Good," Robyn said, moving out of your way to look at you.

With the window's position, you could only see your fiancé from the thighs up, wearing black tuxedo pants and a white long-sleeved dress shirt tucked into them. Your sleep mask covered his eyes, and there was a loose regular tie and bow tie around his neck that matched the color of his slacks, the ends of each resting over both sides of his chest. Aside from his perfectly trimmed mustache, his face was freshly shaved, and he looked unbelievably handsome as always.

"This annoyin' man—" Robyn pointed at him with her thumb. "—says it's an emergency—he needs you to tell him how you want his hair done and which tie you’d like."

It made you smile because his hair was already how you wanted it—you had given him a haircut a couple of days ago, so the sides looked nice and clean cut down, and he combed the longer top and bangs to swoop over to the other side of his head, holding it all in place with his favorite pomade, that kept his hair soft.

He also knew damn well which tie you’d chosen.

It had you feeling gooey that he couldn't wait any longer to see you.

You walked toward him, and Robyn made herself scarce by disappearing into the bathroom. At the window, you got down on your knees to make it easier to talk to him, Javier still standing above you with his height.

"An emergency, huh?" you asked, and he smiled. Taking his outstretched hand, you guided him closer.

“Are we alone?" he countered

His palms began mapping your body, sliding over your arms and shoulders and along your neck up to your head, where he avoided your face but carefully felt your ears and hair.

"Yep."

“You feel beautiful.”

Air huffed from your nose in amusement. “Well, you look handsome, even without being fully dressed.” You rubbed your hands up his thighs to rest them on his tiny hips. “Your hair looks perfect,” you continued. “Did you really forget which tie I wanted?”

He smirked. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “It was the only way I knew I could get Robyn to betray Pop’s orders and let me see you; well, talk to you.”

Your eyebrows creased. “Orders? What orders?”

“He might’ve made it sound like a suggestion, the whole us not seeing each other today, but Pop is super fucking superstitious like mi mamá was—he doesn’t think he is—believe me, he is, and it made him feel better we agreed to do it. So, he has everyone out here on strict orders to keep us apart, including Robyn. One of my tíos is sitting at the end of the kitchen table right now so he can watch the front and back door; another is on the living room couch to stay close to my room in case he’s gotta intercept me. You’re being guarded like a fucking high-security witness with a hit out on them. I had to park my truck down the road and have Seb hide me in the trunk of his Bronco to get here without anyone seeing.”

“That is insane.”

He sighed. “At least Pop kinda gave us a choice; my mom wouldn’t have. She wouldn’t have let us take any risk of getting bad luck because I saw you.”

“It’s sweet and extremely intense.”

“Yeah, and I can’t see you, so we’re good.”

You smiled. “Gotta love loopholes.”

He was smiling, too. “Yeah. I missed you so much. I just needed to touch you and talk to you.” He grabbed your hands off his waist, stroking his thumbs over the back of them. “I couldn’t sleep last night without you—even when I tried sleeping on your side.”

“Yeah, I didn’t get much sleep either, and I missed you, too. I’m happy you’re here so we can talk. I’ve got butterflies in my tummy, and I can’t tell if they’re nerves or excitement.”

“Maybe both?”

“Could be. Don’t know what I have to be nervous about.”

“I’m nervous about having to say my sappy bullshit in front of other people and have it recorded.”

“That’s actually a good point—if we leave now, we can make it to the courthouse before it closes and skip all of that.”

He huffed out a breath. “It’s too late for that, mi amor. Pop’s excited about being a part of the ceremony and getting to walk you to me.”

There wouldn’t be an aisle per se, just a small trail of rose petals leading you to where Javi would be standing in front of the tree. Chucho cried happy tears when you asked him to give you away.

When your soon-to-be father-in-law heard about your parents' impromptu visit, you’d never seen him so angry—his face had gone red, and he went off in Spanish about what terrible people they were. He was so mad he repeatedly tried to get you to give him their phone number so he could tell them himself how lowly he thought of them and that they were awful parents; he wanted them to know that their loss was his gain and you were his daughter now; you would finally be loved and cherished by a proud parent and that it was God’s will you came into his and his son’s lives. He also needed them to be aware that their pride and greed had turned them villainous, and he’d be praying that they someday realized the error of their ways and saw you for the blessing you were.

His anger toward those who wronged you was fueled by a protective father’s love for their child, and it made you incredibly emotional that after so many years without one, you had a parent who loved you unconditionally, wanted nothing more than your happiness, and would selflessly fight battles for you.

Chucho was the best dad you’d ever had, and you were happy that in less than two hours, you’d share a last name with him, too.

“Ugh, you’re right,” you said, “Pop deserves his moment. Hey, babe?”

“Yes, mi amor?”

“When you’re saying your sappy bullshit, focus on me. It'll just be the two of us in that moment, no one else, and believe me when I say all of my tears will be happy.”

His smile was brighter than the sun. He lifted your hand to kiss each of your knuckles, saying when he finished. “All of my tears will be happy, too, and you do the same thing—it’s just us, nobody else. Will you, uh, tie my bow tie?”

His question had you smiling. “I’d love to.”

He pulled off the regular tie and stuffed it into his pocket, bending his knees and crouching with a grunt to put his neck within reach. You took the ends of the bow tie, your attention focused on what you were doing.

"This is why you had me learn how to tie a bow tie, huh?" You started going through the steps—ensuring one end was longer than the other, then crossing it over the shorter end, bringing it up from under the loop and through it.

"Yes."

The bow tie had taken shape, and you were almost done.

"What was your plan if Robyn didn't let you see me?"

"I would've called you and gotten you to sneak away."

You finished tying it, and it wasn't perfect, but it didn't look too bad.

"And I would've with zero hesitation," you said, patting the bow tie. "You look so good." You leaned out to peck him on the cheek.

"Not as good as you."

You huffed out air. "Obviously, you can't see me because only half of my makeup is done—there's literally eyeshadow on only one side. I look like a mess."

Your hands were on his shoulders, and he rubbed his hands back and forth on your arms.

"A beautiful mess."

"You're ridiculous."

"I'm in love."

"I'm in love, too—madly, as a matter of fact. Oh, your dad took me out for breakfast this morning in the Mustang. He filled up the tank on our way home, and when we got back before everyone came over, he polished it, so I think it’s safe to assume you’re gonna get to drive it at some point in the next twenty-four hours—you can’t see, but I’m wagging my eyebrows.” You were.

His lips pouted, and his hands remained still. “Who drove to and from the diner?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I just wanna know.”

“But why does it matter?”

“You’re deflecting.”

“No, I’m just curious why you need to know who drove.”

His shoulders slumped. “I think I have my answer—how many times has he let you drive it now? Was that four or five?”

“Six. He let me drive with him in the passenger seat and Robyn in the back when we went wedding dress shopping.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you get weird like you are now that he lets me drive it—I can’t help that he thinks my cooking is Mustang-driving-worthy.”

“But you didn’t make him anything when you went wedding dress shopping…”

“No, but he was so touched I wanted him there to help me pick out a dress, he thought the special occasion warranted me getting to drive.”

“He didn’t let me drive the Mustang when we went to find a tux…” he grumbled.

“I’m sorry to break it to you, babe, but my wedding dress I bought and am going to save in case our future daughter wants to wear it one day is a little more special than your rented tux that has been worn many times before you by strangers. Now, stop being jealous, and get excited that you’re finally going to drive it, and unlike me, you’ll be allowed to drive it wherever the fuck you want, so there, you have one up on me.”

He seemed to be thinking long and hard about that last bit.

“That is better…”

“It sure is. Lean in and kiss me. It’ll make you less grumpy.”

“As much as I’m dying to kiss you right now, I, um, wanna wait, so it’s kinda special…”

“I respect that and understand what you mean. Javi?”

“Yes, Cielito?”

“I’m really fucking happy we’re getting married today, and I hope you like my dress.”

He smiled brightly. “I’m really fucking happy we’re getting married, too. I’m gonna love your dress.”

“I hope so.”

“Baby, you could show up in a paper bag, and I’d be blown away.”

“The bar is so low. Do you wanna feel what I’ll be wearing under the dress?”

The pink of his tongue quickly peeked between his lips, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

His timbre deepened. “Yes.”

You poked your head out the window to ensure no one was around, then loosened the belt, holding your robe shut. Taking his hand, you started at your shoulder beneath the silk, letting his fingertips graze over the bare skin, trailing them down to the lacy cup of your strapless bra. He couldn’t help himself and palmed your covered breast before you moved his hand once more to continue the journey downward, where he got to feel the smooth, stretchy material hugging your middle; you let his fingers find that the spandex covering the warmth between your thighs, too.

“Not very sexy,” you said. “Well, the bra is cute. The rest is so I don’t look lumpy in the dress or have panty lines.”

He was about to say something, but you spoke before he had a chance. “Yes, Javier, I know you love my natural body, including the bits I don’t, but I wanna look my very best, and that means Spanx.”

He was frowning. “Are they uncomfortable?”

It warmed your heart that he was concerned for your comfort.

"Not really," you answered truthfully. "They're like my bicycle shorts, so stretchy and breathable. Will it make you feel better to know I have sexier bottoms I'm gonna wear when I change into my comfier dress after food and our first dance?"

He didn't know what your wedding dress looked like, but he had seen the one you were changing into after it.

His free hand went to the window frame, feeling along it until he found where the opened window stopped and ducked his head under it. His face was close to yours, one of his palms still between your legs, the other carefully sliding up the edge of your open robe.

"I'd prefer you wear no panties," he rasped, pulling the silk off your shoulder. His mouth pressed to the newly revealed skin, the soft kiss of his lips and tickle of his mustache, paired with his hand on your pussy beginning to rub, had sparks dancing down your spine. "It's gonna make me hard," his words were muffled between kisses as he moved across your shoulder toward your neck, "seeing you in your wedding dress.” Your fingers went into the hair at the back of his head, his spare hand palming your breast. “I'm gonna lose my fucking mind hearing you say 'I do.'" He was kissing and nibbling at your throat now, the added friction of his palm at the crux of your thighs making it hard to think. "It's gonna drive me fucking crazy that you're my wife—my wife,” he repeated against your throat. “And I’ll be your husband—I already want you, but all I’ll be able to think about after we’re pronounced husband and wife is getting you alone, and if you’re not wearing panties, it’ll make it easier for me to lift up that pretty—“

“No, Javier!” Robyn interrupted, and you felt cold water mist against your bare skin, the spray bottle hissing near your ear. “Bad!”

“Fuck!” he yelped, his head narrowly missing the bottom of the raised window as he pushed back from you so fast you’d think he was burned. His expression had turned grumpy as he stood. “What the fuck was that for?”

“I promised your daddy I wouldn’t let you see her,” she said, looking mad. “But out of the kindness of my heart—” She pressed a hand to the left side of her chest. “—I went against my word to your father, and how do you repay me? By wastin’ time gettin’ fresh with your fiancée when I’m riskin’ your daddy bein’ madder than a box of frogs at me for not doin’ what I said I’d do—you’re bein’ real rude Javier Peña, exploitin’ my niceness and I’d appreciate you sayin’ your goodbyes, and bein’ on your way.”

His eyes were covered, but it was visible how his face shifted from grumpy to guilty.

“I’m sorry, Robyn,” he said.

“Apology accepted. Say goodbye, and then we gotta get back to work.”

“Okay,” he replied.

The other woman headed back to the en suite. Leaning forward, you grabbed his hand and pulled him to step toward you.

“Thank you for coming to see me or, you know, talk to me,” you told him.

He smiled, squeezing your palm. “There was zero chance of me waiting to talk to you until the wedding. I love you too much.”

“I’m happy you did, and I love you, too.”

He lifted your hand and kissed the back of it.

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

“I know you will, and I’ll be there.”

Javi sighed. “I better go. Bye, Cielito,” he said and didn’t move.

“You’re gonna see me in a little bit—get going, babe.”

He sighed again. “Fine. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

This time, he quickly pecked the back of your hand and started quietly walking along the front of the house. You assumed he had taken off the sleep mask to sneak away.

You closed and locked the window, shutting the blinds and curtains, feeling happy that you'd be seeing him again soon.

It took some time to finish getting ready, as you wanted to look perfect. Robyn did a fantastic job on your makeup, and your hair turned out well. When you saw yourself all dolled up and wearing your dress, you almost couldn't believe it was your reflection staring back at you in the mirror.

The white, silky satin hugged your curves as it cascaded to the ground to pool around your feet, the fabric having some stretch to it so your movements weren’t hindered. The neckline dipped in a slight V, your upper back bare from under your armpits up, and thin straps went over your shoulders connecting the two sides.

With how the satin draped over your figure, perfectly fitting the contours of your body, then flared out below your knees, it had a Morticia Addams feel to it—change the color of it to black, add sleeves, and you’d find it in her closet.

Javi was right. You looked so amazing that he was absolutely going to get a boner when he saw you.

And wasn't that just the sweetest thing?

A man so in love with you he gets aroused even when you're fully clothed because he thinks you're that pretty. He was also the kind of guy who sometimes got too excited from a kiss, and you had to wait a little while in the car for him to calm down…

"What do you think?" Robyn asked beside you. She'd put on her dress—a lavender-colored, A-line, floor-length gown with ruffled short sleeves and a V-neckline that, as an added bonus, had pockets.

You met her eyes in the mirror. "That I've never looked more beautiful—if you ever wanted to get out of nursing, you'd be a fantastic makeup artist."

She smiled, her full lips painted in rose-pink lipstick. "Thank you, but I prefer doin' it as a hobby and bein' able to help my friends out."

"Well, thank you for making me look insanely pretty."

"All I did was enhance what was already there, girl—Javi's gonna lose it."

"I hope he does."

A knock sounded from the bedroom door, and without a word, your friend went to see who it was.

"Is it okay for Chucho to see you?" Robyn called from the other room.

"Yes!" you answered, and nerves started fluttering in your belly over what he'd think.

Within seconds, your father-in-law was standing in the doorway, where you faced him with a grin.

"Dios mío (My God)," he gasped, his hand going to his mouth, “eres tan hermosa (you’re so beautiful)!” His dark eyes behind his glasses started to shine.

He was wearing light grey slacks, a white long-sleeved dress shirt, and a tie in the same shade as Robyn’s dress resting against his chest from a perfect Windsor knot at his throat, his camera dangling from a strap around his neck; as usual, his long hair was pulled back in a low ponytail.

“Ese vestido es perfecto (That dress is perfect)!” he said. “Estoy tan feliz de que lo hayas elegido porque te ves increíble (I’m so happy you chose it because you look amazing). Javi se va a volver loco (Javi is going to go crazy)."

"You really think so?" you asked, looking down at your outfit.

"Oh, yes." He nodded. "He's not going to leave you alone. We'll have to get a crowbar to pry him away from you."

You giggled, looking at him. "Yeah, I have a feeling he's gonna be stuck to me all night."

"When isn't he?"

The question made you laugh. "Touché."

"I wasn't sure if you'd want to," the older man started, "but I went through mi amor's jewelry to see if there was anything I thought you might want to wear—it could be your something old—” You hadn’t figured out what to do for something old; your something new was the perfume Javi got you for Christmas that you saved for today so he’d have a scent memory. Something borrowed was Chucho’s land, where your ceremony and party would take place, and something blue was a garter from Robyn around your thigh under your dress. “—and I found this necklace,” he said.

That's when you realized he was holding a large, thin, black leather box in his other hand.

Chucho walked closer to you, holding it in a palm, while the other lifted the hinged top—the necklace was made up of many silver waves connected together, purple sapphires resting in each dip, that you counted seventeen in total. It was stunning, the metal and precious gemstones glimmering beneath the lighting.

"I gave this to mi Antonia on our twentieth anniversary," he told you. "We'd visit her family in Mexico two, three times a year, and always for Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead). On one visit, she saw this necklace and fell in love with it—it's Taxco silver and known for its high quality; many pieces made with it are crafted by hand and marked, so you know it's real. She wouldn't let me buy it for her because she thought it was too expensive for something she’d hardly wear, but the way she looked at it, I had to get it for her anyway, so I did and surprised her with it on our anniversary; she yelled at me," he chuckled, smiling. "Then had me put it on her and covered my face in kisses." He sighed fondly. "I think if she were here today, this is what she would've chosen for you, too—if you don’t like it, we can go upstairs for you to pick something else out..."

"No, Pop," you said quickly, meeting his gaze. There was a lump in your throat at the thought he'd put into finding you this piece of jewelry. "It's perfect, and I'd love to wear it. Can you help me put it on, please?"

"Yes, Mija." He set the open box on the bathroom counter and picked up the necklace with the same care as you would a newborn. Turning so your back was to him, he had an end in each hand as his arm went over your head to get the silver and sapphires around the front of your neck, clasping it at the back. He stepped away, and you faced him again.

There was a smile on his face, and his eyes were soft. "Mi hija hermosa (My beautiful daughter).” The sentence had your breath hitching. “¿Ella es preciosa, no (She is gorgeous, right)?" he asked Robyn. She understood Spanish but had a hard time speaking it.

The other woman was beside him, grinning. "She sure is," she agreed. "A real stunner."

"I'm so happy this day has finally come." Tears were brimming on his eyelids, and he took off his glasses to wipe them away. "I just wish mi amor was here to see our son marry such a wonderful woman."

Your eyes were burning as you held back from crying. He'd put his eyeglasses back on, and you stepped forward to hug him, being careful of your makeup. His arms went around you, squeezing you back.

"I wish she was here, too," you said. "At least we've got you, the best dad in the whole world. I love you, Pop."

"I love you, too, Mija. Thank you for loving my son and making him the happiest I've ever seen. We're blessed to have you in our lives, and I can't tell you how much joy I feel that you've decided to take our last name; I think it suits you better."

"I think it suits me better, too."

“You’re gonna kill the grass if you keep walking back and forth like that,” the other man told him.

They were at the oak tree on the hill, and the sun was getting close to setting. Javier had his whole outfit on: a black tuxedo and bow tie, white shirt, and lavender pocket square—he’d borrowed a pair of his father’s golden cufflinks, and one of his mother’s violet roses was pinned to his lapel. He didn’t have a cigarette to calm his nerves, so he was pacing, but the comment had him stopping with a sigh.

"Are you wearing a hole in the ground 'cause you're being impatient?" Steve continued. "Or are you nervous?"

His gaze went to his best friend, who was standing in front of him holding a small, white, heart-shaped pillow adorned in lace that went around the edges—there were two golden rings, one bigger than the other, secured to the top of it by a satin ribbon tied into a bow. The older man was dressed in a charcoal-colored suit he regularly wore to work, with a new tie provided by Javier that matched his lavender pocket square. Nate was in a carrier on his back; the parents put the one-year-old in a onesie that made him look like he was wearing a tuxedo and some dark pants, the child happily chewing on a football-shaped teething toy.

His hands went to his hips as he frowned. “Both?” Javier answered. “I can’t wait to see her, and I’m nervous about saying shi-stuff—“ He quickly corrected himself with the children present. “—I usually save for when we’re alone.”

Steve was giving him a weird look. “My kids are here. This ‘stuff’ is appropriate for them to hear, right…? It’s not anything… lewd…?”

Javier’s eyes narrowed. “No, it’s not anything like that, you judgemental pri-prude.”

The blonde man’s free hand went up in a placating gesture. “Hey, you said you save it for when you’re alone, and y’all have stayed at our house—any time the two of you were alone, you… folded laundry.”

“Folded laundry…?”

“Javi,” Connie said to get his attention, and he looked over to where she was fussing with the purple bow in Olivia’s hair. “You know when there’s a big load of laundry that requires two adults to fold, and they have to lock the bedroom door so there aren’t any distractions.”

Oh, ‘folding laundry’ was their code word for sex—that was smart.

“Mom and Dad have been folding a lot of laundry together lately,” Olivia added with a quizzical expression. “I didn’t know it was so hard to do alone—the baskets don’t seem that big.”

Javier smiled, his head turning from one parent to the other, seeing they were avoiding his eyes and blushing—good for them, fucking regularly.

“It’s more satisfying to do laundry with someone, so it gets done quicker,” he said.

“Doesn’t seem to get done quicker,” she replied.

Steve cleared his throat before he spoke. “Anyways, enough about laundry—what are you planning to say that’s got you nervous, Jav?”

He stopped smiling and scratched his mustache. “Uh, like, lovey-dovey, romantic crap…”

His best friend’s smile grew into a shit-eating grin. “What, like, super cheesy stuff? Are you gonna read the poetry you wrote about her eyes in your diary or something?”

Javier ground his teeth.

"Leave him alone, Steve," Connie said. "In our wedding video, before I walked down the aisle, you were clearly figuring out where all of the nearest exits were in the church. It’s refreshing and sweet that Javi’s gonna be vulnerable in front of everyone for the woman he loves.”

"I was checking where the exits were in case of a fire!" Steve rebuked. "All those candles they lit made me nervous."

"If that's what you tell yourself." She didn’t sound convinced.

“I was! Why did we need to be here forty-five minutes early?” he asked, trying to change the subject. “I was really enjoying the food your aunties were feeding us back at the house.”

There wasn’t a chance for Javier to respond; the answer to the question was he wanted to show how eager he was to marry the woman he actually loved and avoid any chance of being late—it also was a ‘fuck you’ to the people betting against him at the bar.

"Tío, tío!" The three-year-old Stevie shouted, running up to him; he was holding a Ninja Turtle action figure he'd been playing with in the grass.

Javier smiled, his attention moving to the child, crouching to be at his level. "Yes, mi principito (my little prince)?"

"We match!" His tiny finger pointed at his little light purple bow tie over his white dress shirt. The kid refused to wear a regular tie like his dad, and the only way they got him to agree to the clip-on bow tie was by telling him Javier had one, too.

His friends weren't by any means struggling with money, but Javier and his wif-fiancée, sent them a check to pay for their trip to Texas, which included flights, lodging, a rental car, and clothes for the wedding since they wanted those at the ceremony to match—Olivia got a new dress and so did her mom in the shade of lavender everyone else was wearing.

The family had gotten into town the day before. Cielito and Javier had shown them around town and taken them out to the ranch where Chucho and Connie finally got to meet in person—there was a lot of hugging—and that evening, they all, including his father, went out to dinner. Today, he’d spent more time with his friends before they all needed to get ready, then they followed him out to the ranch to distract Chucho while Javier covertly went to see, or, well, talk to his bride-to-be—the sleep mask was Connie’s idea, and she thought them sneakily meeting without anyone knowing was incredibly romantic.

"We do, bud,” he said. “You look so cool." He gently patted the child's arm.

Stevie was grinning. "I'm gonna walk from Mommy to Daddy and give him the rings?"

The hill they were on wasn’t too steep; Olivia was fine with walking up it from the bottom—she was excited to do it. For her younger brother, it was too much for him, so Connie was going to stand with Stevie a little before the land evened out at the top to signal when it was time for him to walk to his father.

"Yes," he nodded. "You'll walk while holding the pillow with the rings and hand it to your dad."

"It's a special job?"

"It's very special."

"Sissy's gonna throw flowers?"

"Yes, flower petals."

"It's a special job, too?"

"It is. They’re both important. Thank you for helping me, mi principito (my little prince).” He ruffled the child’s dirty blonde hair, making Stevie laugh.

Javier’s primos, Sebastián, and his tía Rebeca's daughter, Angelita, were taking care of the videography and photography, respectively. Seb had the video camera Javier bought, and Angelita had her own gear since she was a professional photographer—when you had fourteen cousins on just your father’s side, the odds were in your favor, one of them could either help with what you needed or knew somebody who could.

Photos were taken of Javier with the Murphys when they all first got there, and then his primos told everyone to pretend they weren’t there while they got candids and views of the scenery—his cousins arrived together in Sebastián’s SUV.

“Hey, Javi?” Seb said as he walked toward him.

"I gotta talk to him, buddy," Javier told Stevie. "I'll be back." He rose up with a groan, taking a few steps to reach his primo. "Yeah?" he answered.

When camcorders first came out, they were big and had to be rested on the operator’s shoulder, but the one Seb was using, he held in one of his hands with the side pulled open to see the little screen that previewed what was being recorded. The younger man hit a button on the video camera to pause what he’d been doing. “Do you want me to interview people?” Seb asked. “Ask how they like the wedding, if they have any advice, that kinda stuff.”

"Uh." He thought about it and Cielito would probably enjoy that. "Sure.”

"Perfecto (Perfect)." Seb nodded, hitting the button to record again.

Javier immediately regretted his decision when the camera was put in his face.

“It’s your big day, primo,” Seb said. “How are you feeling?”

“Um, excited and nervous.”

“The audience would like to hear how you met your bride.”

Javier smiled, heat rising on his cheeks. “At the grocery store, in the produce department—I guess it was obvious I was struggling to pick out a tomato, and she came to my rescue and showed me what to look for.”

“What was your first impression of her?”

He scratched at the back of his neck while looking away. “Uh, that she was sweet for helping me out, and beautiful. I could tell she had a good, kind heart and—” he lowered his voice so the children wouldn’t hear him. “—no fuckin’ clue who I was.” He chuckled. “I was hooked from that first conversation; an instant connection—there was something about her that told me she was going to be someone important to me, and I’d never felt that with anyone else.”

“What’d you do for your first date?”

His immediate thought was what happened after the bar, and his face felt hot. “We, uh, went out for drinks.”

“When did you know you loved her?”

He looked at the camera. “Honestly? Our third date. We were dancing in her kitchen to “¿Y cómo es él?”—”

“Mi mamá loves that song,” Seb said.

Javier huffed, smiling. “All my tías do. So, uh, we were dancing in her kitchen, and I realized she was the woman I was going to marry. I could see us having a future and was picturing what our Sunday mornings would look like—which, they’re exactly how I imagined—yeah, I knew I loved her on the third date and that we were going to get married one day.” He cleared his throat. “When my dad tells the story of the first time he saw my mother, he says his gut told him she was the one, and I always thought he was talking out of his—ass,” he whispered. “But it’s real and crazy to know deep down inside that you’ve found the person who completes you—feeling that confirmed she was it and that I truly did love her.”

“I think I know the feeling you’re talking about, and it’s great.”

“It is, and at your wedding, I’m gonna grill you on camera about it.”

“Hey, your wife is gonna eat this up, and you both want kids; think about your hijos (children) watching this one day and seeing how much you love their mom on your wedding day.”

The thought of sitting on the couch surrounded by his wife and kids, watching this wedding video, made him soften to the point he was putty—he wanted it to be a reality one day.

“What’s something you want to say to the bride before you get married?” Seb asked.

“I love you, and today is the best day of my entire fucking life—”

“—Eso es un dólar en la jarra, tío (That’s a dollar in the jar, uncle).” Olivia interrupted.

She meant the swear jar.

Javier sighed. “Lo siento, mi tesorito (I’m sorry, my little treasure). As I was saying, mi Cielito, I love you, and today is the best day of my entire freaking life. Happy isn’t enough to describe how I feel about us starting this new chapter of being husband and wife, and I’m looking forward to our future full of love, happiness, and hopefully, a lot of kids.” He smiled big. “I love you more than anything, and I will tell you that every day for the rest of our lives. Te amo, mi amor (I love you, my love).” To end the sentence, he blew a kiss at the camera lens.

In order to get to where Javi was, it involved Chucho driving you off-road, and the trip was bumpy; you sat in the passenger seat, and Robyn was in the backseat, and because your father-in-law was probably as nervous as you were about speaking in front of people, he held your hand the entire way.

The previous day, when you brought the Murphys out to the ranch, you’d taken them to where you were going to be wed to do a quick rehearsal on how things would go; Olivia was beyond ecstatic to be a flower girl, and Stevie didn’t really understand what was going on, except that his tío Javi had an important job for him.

Chucho pulled up and parked at the base of the hill with your door opposite it so you couldn’t get a closer look at everyone atop it. The butterflies in your belly were flapping around so hard you thought they might get out, while your mind was racing with what could go wrong like you falling—that was a reason you wore flats, but with how much of your dress touched the ground, there was a chance of it tripping you up. Or what if Javi’s handsomeness made your brain stop working, and you couldn’t speak a single coherent word? Something that has happened before. God, your heart was pounding, and you thought you might be having a minor panic attack due to your vision starting to tunnel—a small silver flask was held up in front of your face, the cap already twisted off.

“Take a drink, Mija,” Chucho’s soothing voice said. “It’ll calm you down.”

The man was a lifesaver.

You grabbed it, taking a big swig, and your face pinched as the whiskey burned down your throat—from the taste and smoothness, you recognized it as Javi’s favorite, which was top shelf, a little spendy, and probably came from the bottle your fiancé gifted his dad to thank him for his help in getting you to give the green light to start your family.

The effect the alcohol had on you was almost immediate, feeling all of the tense muscles in your body relax at the same time. Your father-in-law took the flask from you and knocked it back with a drink of his own.

“Robyn?” he asked when he finished, holding it up for her to reach.

“Don’t mind if I do,” she replied, accepting it from him to take a gulp.

“I couldn’t see Antonia before our wedding,” he said, his head turned your way, “or talk to her. We were kept apart at the church, and I was so nervous that I was shaking like a leaf.” He chuckled. “Not about getting married, but having to stand in front of so many people. It had to be minutes before I needed to go out with the priest that mi amor’s maid of honor, her best friend, found me to give me an opened bottle of tequila and a note written by Antonia that read, ‘Mi amor, un trago para el coraje (My love, a drink for courage). Yo también necesitaba uno (I needed one, too).’ And she left a lipstick stamp of her lips at the bottom, where she kissed the paper. I won’t deny it. I kissed where her lips had been and took two shots.”

The story made you smile.

Chucho had put on a jacket that matched his light grey pants, and you watched as he pulled something from the inside pocket. It was a small folded piece of paper that’d been ripped from the notepad he kept by the answering machine at his house to write down messages. He passed it over to you, and you unfolded it, finding Javi’s scratchy handwriting. You read what he wrote:

Cielito, You said you were never drinking again, but I think this can be an exception since you’re probably freaking the fuck out about embarrassing yourself like I am. I’m worried I’ll see how beautiful you are and forget how to talk, or my brain will stop working. Have a drink to calm your nerves, and know it will all be okay because we’re doing this together. I love you, Your husband

The note was touching, especially since he knew how you’d be feeling.

“When did he write this?” you asked Chucho, whose eyes you met, the man smiling.

“When he met up with Connie and all of them at the house before they came out here. I’d given him the flask when he got there as a gift, but he told me to keep it for you and asked if he could write you a message. It reminded me so much of his mother, I couldn’t say no.”

“Thanks, Pop. I needed it.”

“I know you did, Mija.” He patted your leg.

When Javier saw his father's truck in the distance, his heart rate increased, and by the time they parked at the bottom of the hill, his heart was beating so fast that he was sure it was going to beat right out of his chest.

With where he was standing at the tree and how the land sloped, he didn’t have a visual. Steve was beside him with Nate still in the carrier, Connie and Stevie, who was holding the pillow with the rings, had walked to the top of the hill and were looking down it, probably watching Olivia, who booked it to join the people at the truck. Seb was near Steve's wife and kid with the camcorder and a battery-powered boombox on the ground he was supposed to hit play on when Robyn gave him the signal.

Sweat was forming on his brow and on his palms. He turned to Steve.

"Do I look okay?" he asked his friend. "How's my hair? And the bow tie?" He lifted his chin.

The other man was wearing an amused smile. "Hair and bow tie look as fine as they did when you asked five minutes ago." He put a hand on Javier's shoulder and squeezed. "Relax, man—you look great. She's gonna love what she sees."

"I fucking hope so."

The sun had started its descent on the horizon and was the backdrop for the place they’d be standing; the sky where it met land was lit up in burning orange, bleeding into golden yellow where the sun was positioned, and high above that, it turned into a calming mauve.

The soft, melodic sound of a piano began, and it was Javier's cue to face the others. Christine McVie’s voice floated through the air as she sang the opening to the Fleetwood Mac song, "Songbird:"

“For you there'll be no more crying For you the Sun will be shining And I feel that when I'm with you It's alright, I know it's right.”

Seconds later, Robyn came into view, smiling while holding a small bouquet of sunflowers with a lavender ribbon wrapped around the stems. She shot her boyfriend, Sebastián, a wink as she passed him. She took her spot across from Javier beside where Cielito would be.

When he discussed with his wife-to-be the music for today, she only knew for sure what she wanted them to dance their first dance to, and since Javier didn’t object to it, she left what she’d walk down the aisle to up to him. He knew she’d hate the traditional “Bridal Chorus,” a couple of Elvis Presley songs came to mind, “No Sé Tú” by Luis Miguel perfectly described how Javier felt when they met and was a good option, “At Last” by Etta James would be appropriate, too, and “I Could Fall in Love” by Selena was in the running, because, Selena, but then he remembered this song on Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours—his favorite album, and for good reason with it having some of the band’s best classics like “The Chain,” “Dreams,” and “Go Your Own Way;” it was also seeping with palpable heartbreak of a messy breakup, except for the track, “Songbird.” It was a major tonal shift from all the angst with its pretty piano and Christine McVie crooning her love. What sold him on it were the lines:

“To you, I’ll give the world To you, I’ll never be cold ‘Cause I feel that when I’m with you It’s alright, I know it’s right.”

He loved it when he heard it played live at the band's concert twenty-three years ago—he’d been seventeen and still in high school; he and his buddies snuck off to Fort Worth to see them, and “Songbird” was the last song of their set before the encore.

It was his three-year-old sobrino’s (nephew’s) turn to walk forward, his mom sending him to his dad with the rings—they all laughed at how he ran as fast as he could, making Javier smile.

"Here, Daddy," the child said to Steve, holding up the pillow.

His father accepted it.

"Great job, kiddo—high-five." His friend had to bend a little to gently hit his palm to Stevie’s tinier one, and the toddler turned to Javier expectantly, who, of course, bent his knees and high-fived him.

"You did good, buddy,” he said.

Steve told his son to stand with him, and Connie went to be next to Robyn as everyone watched Olivia walk up, tossing red rose petals from a small white basket, leaving a trail of them behind her. He hum-sang under his breath along with the song:

“And the songbirds are singing Like they know the score And I love you, I love you, I love you Like never before.”

Finally, his bride came into view, her eyes locking onto his, and all the love he had for, all of his happiness, and thanks he had to the universe for making this day happen overflowed from him, falling as tears down his face and made his smile so big, he could feel the dimple in his cheek.

She was breathtaking and better than anything he could’ve imagined; this moment would be seared into his brain for all eternity, and he didn’t think he’d ever felt this happy in his entire life—he almost told Steve to make sure he didn’t float away.

Her bouquet was made up of roses from his mother’s garden, and his heart felt like it would burst. Then the dress—Jesus Christ, the dress was perfect with how it molded to her body and showed off her tits from the neckline V-ing between them. His fingers were itching to see if the fabric was as buttery smooth as it looked, wanting to explore the expanse with his fingertips, mapping out every curve, line, and dip he’d already ventured countless times before but now on a new canvas; He desired to feel her softness under his palms and cradle her beautiful face to kiss those delectable lips he so loved; he wanted to hold her in his arms, her familiar shape he knew as intimately as his own, pressed against him, where she belonged.

All of it was getting him too excited, and his pants were feeling tighter, just as he suspected might happen.

Javier’s dream wedding night would have them partying with their friends and family well into the later hours and holding off on consummating their marriage until they retired to the room he rented at the nicest hotel in town he was surprising her with. He’d been determined to do just that up until he had to spend the previous evening by himself where he was alone with his thoughts and ruminated on how beautiful she was going to look, that she was going to be his wife, and one day soon, the mother of his children; since she wasn’t there to distract him by simply being in his vicinity, he worked himself up until he was rock hard and had to take a freezing shower.

He didn’t see there being any chance they’d make it to the hotel without them fucking at least once beforehand.

God, she was so fucking gorgeous.

He had to wipe at the wetness on his face, his smile continuing to shine.

Telling her his feelings in front of everyone wasn’t all he’d been nervous about; his brain was a real asshole, and there’d been a tiny thread of worry she wasn’t going to show—it was stupid, to have even fathomed something so absurd, yet looking at how shitty his luck was up until they met, he thought it wouldn’t have been too surprising that this time he’d be the one left at the altar.

But she was here! She came! And he was so overjoyed he couldn’t stop crying.

Wait.

Oh, fuck, she was close now—what was he supposed to do? It only just registered that she was walking with his dad, and they were almost to him, and he couldn’t remember what needed to happen when she got to him. His heart was pounding a mile a minute, and he was starting to panic that he didn’t know what his next move was, worried he was going to fuck it all up; it was unbelievable that he’d been in gunfights, had to think on the fly to stay alive many times, and put on press conferences, yet at this moment when there wasn’t any danger or eager reporters, he was so overwhelmed by the woman he loved’s beauty, and that she was marrying him, his brain had ceased functioning entirely, and he was spiraling at embarrassing himself with so many onlookers.

Javi was having a panic attack.

The change in his eyes, how they went from bright and happy to panicked, clued you in, and any nervousness you felt flew out the window because your only concern was helping him.

Unhooking your arm from Chucho, you held out the hand, not holding flowers to Robyn.

“Flask me,” you said. Quickly, she pulled it from her pocket and passed it to you, taking your bouquet in return. You stepped in front of your betrothed as you unscrewed the cap on the container of booze. “Hey, baby,” you said in a soothing tone. “You’re okay.” You grabbed his hand and put the flask in it, pushing it toward his face. “Have a drink to calm your nerves. Everything is gonna be okay, honey. Remember, we’re doing this together—it’s just us.”

The music had stopped playing.

He shook his head once like he was trying to shake the bad stuff out, and he took a drink, or several, with how his Adam’s apple kept bobbing.

“Looks like I’ll be driving us after this.” The adults surrounding you chuckled, and you smiled.

His hand lowered, and his vision focused on you, a pink flush spreading over his cheeks.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“No reason to be sorry—I freaked out in the car.” You took the flask from him, screwed on the cap, and handed it back to Robyn without looking. “Feeling better?” you asked, smoothing your fingers over his bangs while his eyes were on yours.

“Much,” he answered with a small smile, his palms moving to rest on your hips.

“Wanna get married?”

“More than anything.”

“Good—liquid courage helps.” You leaned in to kiss his cheek, then put your lips near his ear for only him to hear, “Say the word, and we’ll pack up, go party with everyone, and hit the courthouse tomorrow.”

He spoke softly in your ear, “Thank you, Cielito, but I promise I’m okay.” He kissed your cheek. “I told you I’d see how beautiful you are and forget how to function.”

You giggled, pulling back to look at him, taking in the black tuxedo jacket and bow tie over his crisp white shirt and the lavender pocket square and the pinned violet rose for a pop of color—his hair still looked good, and you rubbed away the tears on his cheeks with your thumbs.

When he saw you in your wedding dress, the expression on his face was something you’d never forget—it was a look of pure, uninhibited joy, and you were sure you saw hearts in his eyes with how they beamed his immense love and devotion. The way that it had him crying happy tears made you feel emotional that someone loved you with such magnitude. It’s why your immediate thought when you saw him panicking wasn’t that he wanted to back out, knowing from his note that he was freaking the fuck out about embarrassing himself, and the nerves got him.

“Let’s get married.” His head turned to kiss one of your palms.

“Let’s get married.”

Turning to your almost-father-in-law, you gave him a quick hug, and he kissed your forehead before he moved to give Javi a side hug, careful of the stuff held in one of his hands and whispering something in his son’s ear, you didn’t catch.

The elder Peña went to stand at his place in front of the tree, holding his worn, soft leather bible, with a picture of Javi’s mother stuck to the cover and a note card sticking out from between the pages to mark a spot.

Javier took your hand, and you both walked the few steps to your spots before his father; he grasped your other palm in his once you faced one another, Chucho on your left and Javi’s right.

Your husband-to-be mouthed, ‘I love you,’ and you silently replied with the movement of your lips, ‘I love you, too.’

Chucho cleared his throat, and your attention went to him.

“Welcome, loved ones,” he started, “we are gathered here today in the sight of God and each other to bear witness to the perfect union of Javier, and—” He said your name. “What a joyous day we get to share with them as they embark on this new journey of a life together in matrimony that will, no doubt, be long, healthy, and filled with love, happiness, and laughter.

“Mijo, Mija,” he addressed you both, “I called this union between you perfect, and I meant it. Besides my marriage to my dear Antonia, que en paz descanse (may she rest in peace), I cannot think of two other people more suited to share a life together. It’s clear the good you bring out in one another and how happy you make each other.” His eyes landed on you. “And you truly make my son happy. This might come as a shock,” he said to everyone in attendance, “but Javier is a smiley guy when he’s happy, and I haven’t seen him smile so much in a long, long time.

“He also has never been able to hide his feelings because that handsome face of his tells his secrets—it’s his—” He glanced at you. “—I’m stealing this from you, Mija—it’s his puppy dog eyes, he got from his mother, and she suffered the same problem.” His gaze stayed on you. “I know Javier loves you more than there’s blue in all the sky because he looks at you the same way mi amor looked at me, and as we know, their eyes don’t lie.”

He was right, and it made you choke up that he knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of such honesty and the weight of so much love.

Chucho looked at his son. “Your media naranja (soulmate) isn’t much better.” He nodded toward you. “Her eyes betray her, too, even when she does her damndest to hide behind a mask. When she looks at you, though, the truth of her love is revealed—her thoughts are loud when she stares at you, and sometimes I think I can hear them; the declaration of ‘I love you,’ she’s repeating over and over again. She looks at you like you’re her whole world, and I know it’s true from those looks, how she treats and cares for you, the things she does for you, even when you don’t ask, and the effort she puts into cultivating your relationship.”

He spoke to you both again. “Marriage can be wonderful with the right person, but it isn’t always easy; I want to take a moment and give you some advice that kept my marriage happy.

“Be best friends—talk about everything, even when you don’t want to or it’s a hard subject. Communicate your needs and wants constantly, and don’t stop talking to each other. Be best friends who share everything, and I mean everything, because your relationship needs to be built upon trust, and there’s nothing better than spending your life with your best friend.

“Keep having fun—joke around, cook together, dance in the kitchen, don’t stop having fun. And keep dating each other. Just because you’re married doesn’t mean that the dating stops. Go out, stay in, just have romantic time you dedicate to one another; that way, the spark stays alive. I know it’ll be harder to do when you have kids; you’ll be exhausted and won’t have much energy. Dating still needs to be a priority, and it doesn’t have to be anything exciting; it can be as simple as putting the kids to bed, staying up, watching a movie together, or baking cookies.”

“—or folding laundry together,” Steve interjected.

Javi chuckled, and you were confused. He leaned toward you to whisper in your ear, “It’s their code word for sex.”

“Oh, that’s smart,” you said as he straightened.

A furrow was between Chucho’s eyebrows. “I guess folding laundry can be romantic…” the older man said. “Now, where was I?” He opened his bible and pulled out the notecard, his eyes scanning over. “Oh, yes—anyone can fall in love; it’s nurturing that love, sharing your life with the other, facing challenges together, and growing as one that makes it real love, and what you have is real. The love you share and I had with my wife is beautiful, but it’s also fierce, it’s powerful, and all consuming; it’s not something anyone can get between and will live on even when you no longer walk the earth. I know you didn’t want a religious ceremony, but there’s a scripture I’d like to share that perfectly describes what I mean. May I?” he asked, his bible already open to the page.

Javier and you figured he’d slip in a verse or two simply because he was a devout Christian man. It was nice of him to ask permission first, though. You turned your head to meet your almost-husband’s eyes and shrugged that you were fine with it. He smiled, his attention going back to his father.

“Go ahead,” Javi said.

Chucho had a toothy grin. “Wonderful—it’s in Songs of Solomon 8 and reads: Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; for love is strong as death, passion fierce as the grave. Its flashes are flashes of fire, a raging flame. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. If one offered for love all the wealth of one’s house, it would be utterly scorned.”

He shut the bible with one hand, his notes resting atop it.

“I wish more people got to experience that kind of love—it’d do the world a whole lot of good. Javier—” He looked at his son, then over to you, saying your name. “I know with how you feel for each other, it’s natural to think marriage is the next step in your relationship. I want you to be sure you know what you’re getting into.” His eyes were moving between you both. “This is a lifelong commitment that will have its ups and downs, highs and lows, and you’ll need to challenge yourselves to love the other more completely each and every day. Are you ready to take this step?”

Without missing a beat, Javi and you said simultaneously, ‘Yes,’ your hands still in his.

Chucho smiled. “Wonderful. Javier—” His eyes went to his son. “—do you take—” He said your name. “—to be your lawfully wedded wife? Will you honor her, cherish her, love, trust, and commit to her and her alone, through joy and pain, sickness and health, and whatever else life may throw at you both, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” Javi said.

His father turned his attention to you and addressed you by name. “—do you take Javier to be your lawfully wedded husband? Will you honor him, cherish him, love, trust, and commit to him and him alone, through joy and pain, sickness and health, and whatever else life may throw at you both, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” you answered.

“It’s time for you to share the vows you’ve written for one another before you exchange rings. Who’d like to go first?”

“Me!” you said immediately, and everyone laughed. “I need to get them out of the way before Javi makes me a blubbering mess. Robyn, vows me.” Turning her way, you put out your hand, and she juggled the two bouquets she held to pull a folded piece of paper from her pocket to hand to you. “Have I told you your dress is amazing?” you asked her.

“Thank you—I look good and have pockets. What could be better?”

“Dresses with pockets are a game-changer.” You faced Javi, and heat bloomed up your neck and on your face at remembering you had to say how you felt in front of people.

“Hey,” Javi said to get your attention, and your gazes locked. “It’s just me,” he whispered. “Talk to me—no one else is here.”

“Right.” You smiled, then focused on the lined notebook paper you unfolded that had your writing on it. “Javier Jesús Peña López,” you began, “the first of his name, King of my heart, Lord of our tiny apartment, and Protector of me—”

“Just Javi’s fine,” he said.

You giggled. “Javi, not a day goes by that I am unaware of how lucky I am to have found you. When I think about how much time you spent away from this town—that I both love and hate—all the people you’ve met, the life you’ve lived, and the things you’ve gone through, it’s a miracle our paths crossed, and possibly Divine Intervention or the universe doing me a solid, that after everything that’s happened to you, you’ve ended up here, with me.

“It’s crazy the number of obstacles we’ve had to face together and how many people are obsessed with making your life difficult—this isn’t me complaining. I’m weirdly thankful for it; it’s kept us on our toes and tested our bond. It’s improved our communication and has built a strong foundation for our relationship.

“Something I’m also thankful for is the trust we share. I can count on you. I know you’re true to your word, and I have no reason to worry about you ever being deceitful.

“What’s also reassuring is your star signs back up the faith I have in you—as a Sagittarius, you value honesty, and when you find someone you think is really worth it, you commit, and you commit hard. With Capricorn and Scorpio in your top three, you’re super loyal, a little possessive, and definitely a relationship guy. To sum all of that up, you’re pretty much perfect and an amazing partner.

“You’re a good man, the best I’ve known. My life is better with you in it. Thank you for loving me.” Tears started to distort your vision, the emotion coming through in your voice. “Thank you for loving me unconditionally. Thank you for your unwavering support and for being my rock. Thank you for being my protector and making me feel so safe with you. Thank you for being my best friend and the love of my life.”

You had to take a deep breath to calm yourself.

“Here are my promises to you,” you said, “I promise to love you until the end of time, and if I happen to go first, haunt you until we can be together again.” He chuckled. “I promise to be your protector and to always have your back; I will go to battle for you in a heartbeat, and hopefully, you know that. I promise to be honest, and it should go without saying because, as we’ve established, you’re perfect, but I promise to be faithful. I promise to keep making you laugh and smile. I promise to put you first and to always be your best friend—sorry, Steve.”

“You can have him,” Steve replied, and everyone laughed.

You continued speaking, “I promise to make your mother’s tamales a couple times a year—I promise to make you one of her other recipes on the days you miss her particularly bad. I promise to keep reminding you that you’re sexier and better than Harrison Ford.” That one made him and the others crack up. “I promise to rap “Whatta Man” for you every time it comes on, so you don’t forget whatta man you are. I promise to dance with you in the kitchen every chance we get. I promise to try, keyword here, try, not to recite the movies word for word when we watch Star Wars or Addams Family Values. I promise to always make sure we don’t run out of limes or your hot sauce or side-eye you when you put either on the perfectly seasoned food I made. I promise to always leave you the last of the ice cream because you’re a dirty liar when you say you don’t want it. I promise to tell you I love you every day until the day I die. I promise that you and your love will always be enough, and I’ll always pick you; I’ll always choose you over anyone else.

“Today, the separate books of our lives have come to an end, and we’re starting the next one together—I can’t wait to see what each new chapter will bring. What I know for sure—” You glanced over at Chucho. “—I’m stealing this from you, Pop—” Your eyes went to Javi’s, and his were reddened, his face glistening from crying and flushed from the alcohol. “—What I know for sure,” you said, “is this new adventure we’re beginning, will be filled with love, happiness, and laughter.

“Javi, you are my person. You’re the love of my life, my one true love, mi media naranja, the person I want to go to sleep with every night and wake up with every morning. You’re my best friend and my forever.

“I love you, Javier Jesús Peña López and I am so happy I get to spend eternity with you.”

His smile was big enough his dimple was showing and you hated that you couldn’t kiss him.

Chucho sniffled, putting his bible under his arm to get his handkerchief from his pocket, lifting his glasses to wipe away his tears.

“That was beautiful, Mija. When you’re ready, Javi, go ahead.”

All she said had Javier feeling so unbelievably happy that he couldn’t stop the waterfall of tears streaming down his cheeks, and he thought his smile might be permanently stuck on his face—he was sure the alcohol wasn’t helping him to keep his composure.

His dad’s speech had gotten him, too, especially about how Chucho could see her feelings for him and said their love was real. He always wondered if the intensity of what he felt for her was normal, and hearing that his parents were the same way reassured him that they just had a strong connection. His father’s advice was helpful, too, and he planned on following it.

She looked incredible and smelled amazing; her perfume wasn’t one she’d worn before, but he knew the scent because he got it for her as a Christmas present—it was intoxicating, and he was dying to shove his face into her neck to drown himself in it. With the emotions she was eliciting from him, her beauty, the perfume, and the whiskey he drank, it was a heady combination that had him feeling buzzed, and he was so caught up in all of it that it had completely slipped his mind that he had to speak.

“Shit,” he said under his breath and barely pulled open the left side of his jacket to get into the inside pocket. First, he grabbed his reading glasses, which he put on, then the folded piece of yellow, lined paper he’d taken from a legal pad at work.

“I am literally the luckiest woman in the world,” Cielito said, and his eyes lifted to her. She was smiling, her eyelashes wet, and she looked incredibly delighted.

“The glasses?” he asked with a smirk.

“Oh, yeah,” she answered. “You’re spoiling me. I get glasses Javi in a tuxedo, and he’s gonna say pretty, romantic things about how much he loves me—talk about the best day ever.”

“With how you look?” he said. “It’s my best day ever, too.”

She playfully smacked his arm. “Stop it, don’t make me want to suck—”

Robyn started coughing loudly, and his wife-to-be’s eyes widened.

“—hug you more,” she tried to save and cringed. “Hugs, not drugs, am I right?” She chuckled nervously.

He snorted, shaking his head. “You ready?” he asked.

“Wait.” Her upper body twisted so she could look behind her. “Tissue me,” she said to Robyn, and her friend got a clean one out of her pocket and exchanged it for Cielito’s folded paper. She faced him again. “Okay, I’m ready. Remember to focus on me. No one else is here.”

“That’ll be easy.” He cleared his throat, his eyes moving to what he’d written. It wasn’t something he said often, but he let her first name slide off his tongue, thinking how perfect it was going to sound paired with his last. “—mi Cielito, mi amor, mi alma, mi media naranja, y ahora, mi esposa (My Cielito, my love, my soul, my soulmate, and now, my wife), my life didn’t begin until the moment I met you; what I mean by that, is I was alive, yes, I was breathing, I had a pulse, but I didn’t start living until we met. You made me want to live and be happy—for so long, I thought I would die miserable and alone, and you showed me that I deserved happiness and to be loved.” His eyes were burning, and the following sentence made him choke up. “You showed me I deserved a family of my own.” Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks. “Meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I thank the universe, the powers that be. I thank whoever let you find me because I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you.”

He went off script to look into her beautiful, teary eyes. “Pop was right; I love you more than there’s blue in the sky, I love you more than there’s water in all the depths of the oceans, I love you more than there are stars in the entire galaxy—I love you more than anything, and I mean anything.”

He focused on what he’d written again. “I once told you I didn’t believe in true love, and I didn’t—that was just made-up stuff in the cartoon movies I watched with Olivia. Or at least I thought it was before you, and then, having you in my life, I discovered it was real. With you, ‘media naranja (soulmate)’ isn’t just a term of endearment; it’s an acknowledgment that you’re my other half and that we’re two parts meant to be together. Love with you transcends what most people have; we feel it deeper than our bones, all the way down into our souls, where we’re connected.

“Our love is true love.”

Wetness was dripping from his eyes to splatter onto the paper.

“Those fairytale movies got something right, and it’s that this kind of love would make a person fight dragons and sea witches for their true love. As my father said, it’s fierce, powerful, and all-consuming. It doesn’t end when our hearts stop beating; it continues on—it’s infinite—what we feel for one another is more than a single life can handle, and I’ll follow you when this one’s over; we’ll find each other again, and live another life together because there is no me without you or you without me.

“From the first day we met, I knew you were special. We spent hours talking in that bar, and I’ve never felt such peace or so comfortable with someone; with you, I don’t have to keep my guard up. I can be vulnerable, speak what’s on my mind, and openly show my affection. With you, I’m safe, and from the first night, you were my Cielito, my little heaven—there’s no better name for you, not with how happy you make me, how you make me feel, and how much better my life is with you.

“You’re my little heaven, mi Cielito, my everything. You’ve shown me more love than I’ve ever known—thank you.” His voice faltered, and he had to wipe at his eyes as best he could beneath his glasses. “Those two words aren’t enough to express my gratitude, and I will spend every waking moment showing you how thankful I am for you and all you’ve done.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he said, “it’s not enough, but thank you.”

He sounded gravelly, the words thick. “In you, I’ve found love, a wife, a partner for life, a best friend, an incredible lover, a home, a teacher to show me how to live; someone who makes me happy, makes me laugh, someone to have a family with, who supports me, inspires me, and makes me want to be a better man.

“Thank you for being all of this and more. Thank you for marrying me today and making me the happiest man in the entire goddamn universe.

“Fuck,” he breathed, taking off his readers to hold with the paper while his other hand scrubbed away the tears. “I really hoped I wouldn’t cry this much—it’s embarrassing.”

“I love it,” she reassured. “It just shows you really mean what you’re saying.”

He put the lenses back on and looked at her, seeing her eyes were red from crying, the tissue in her hand stained with mascara—she’d managed to keep from ruining the rest of her makeup.

“I do mean it all,” he said.

She was smiling. “I know.”

Javier composed himself by taking a deep breath and clearing his throat. Finally, he was ready to speak again. “It was hard figuring out my vows because I wanted to promise you everything your heart could possibly desire, but Pop said that was boring.” He frowned.

“And that he needed to do better,” Chucho added.

Javier sighed.

“I would’ve been fine with that vow,” Cielito said.

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “Pop was right. You deserve the best.” He took another deep breath and slowly let it out, looking at what he’d written and patting himself on the back for making notes—he was definitely too emotional and tipsy to have remembered everything he wanted to say. “Cielito,” he started, “you have all my love and devotion, and I give you myself; my mind, body, and soul belong to you. I vow to never stop loving you, even when this earth is no more and the stars stop shining. I vow to make you feel loved and cherished until the end of my days. I vow to always be your best friend, your confidant, your shoulder to cry on, y un chismoso contigo (and a gossiper with you)—me encanta chismear contigo (I love to gossip with you).”

She giggled, and he smiled.

“I vow to be your equal in everything and give more than I take. I vow to always be there for you no matter what, in sickness and health, when life is easy and hard, I’ll stand by you and be your anchor.” The next one made his smile get bigger. “I vow to treat you like una reina (a queen) and be the best husband you could ask for so when you brag to your girlfriends, they can see their worth and deserve to be treated like queens, too. I vow to be the best father, one you can rely on, and doesn’t call watching my own children babysitting; I’ll pull my weight, I’ll never let you get overwhelmed, and I’ll be an active parent who loves our kids so fu-freaking much.”

“I vow to keep you safe and always make you feel safe; I’ll protect you and our children with my life. I vow to make sure all of your needs are met.” He smirked, glancing at her. “I vow to ‘fold laundry’ with you whenever you ask.” He winked, and she laughed.

“Why are adults so obsessed with laundry?” He heard Olivia ask.

“I’m wonderin’ the same thing, kiddo,” Robyn said. “I’m not obsessed with it.”

“Oh, believe me, you are,” Connie replied.

“I know the stars,” Javier said, “that astrology stuff you love, told you this already, but I want you to hear it from me, too: I vow to be loyal to you and faithful, always—to me, you are the only woman I see, or will ever want; I vow to put you and our family before all else.”

He looked at her with a smile. “I have some more things I’m gonna promise after hearing yours. I vow to always give you my pickles.” Her grin was big and happy as she giggled. “I vow to always let you sing Freddie Mercury’s parts in Bohemian Rhapsody while I do the guitar solo, and I’ll always leave you the last piece of cheesecake because I love you and value my life.” That made her giggle harder. “I vow to try, the keyword here is try, to not, as you put it, ‘creepily watch you while you sleep,’ even though you’re guilty of the same thing.” Her giggles transformed into laughter. “I vow to always dance with you when we’re cleaning the house and in the kitchen while we cook together. I vow to pretend—I mean, agree that you’re the best driver in Laredo and always know your way around, even when you don’t.”

There was a reason he drove them the majority of the time.

“Rude!” she gasped. “I’m an amazing driver!”

“I agree, mi amor, you’re the best in Laredo.” He winked again, folded his paper, and put it back in his inner pocket. He spoke as he took off his reading glasses. “There’s one more thing I vow,” he said, putting the lenses away. His hands were free and he grabbed hers, ignoring the tissue clenched in one of her palms, and stared adoringly into her eyes. “I vow that years from now—decades—after our kids are grown, and we’ve retired, maybe we’ll be living in Florida like other retirees, or we’ll still be here where our family lives and we made our best memories; I vow that when we’re old and grey and can’t hear or see shit without hearing aids or glasses, that we’ll look back on our life together, and we’ll have no regrets.

“Zero,” he said.

“We did everything we wanted and lived the life we shared to the fullest, filled with love, happiness, and laughter.”

Her shoulders started to shake, and she had to let go of his hand to blot at her eyes.

“Javier!” she cried, and he wrapped his arms around her to hold her close. “Why would you end with something so sweet?”

“Para que sepas cómo nuestro futuro será (So you know what our future together will be like). Quería que vieras que cuando me des ese anillo, te daré mi futuro y lo que venga después de eso (I wanted you to see that when you give me that ring, I’ll give you my future and whatever comes after that).”

She leaned back to look at him, and he was impressed that only her mascara had gotten messed up. She poked him in the chest and said, “That ring is going on your finger right this second.” Javier chuckled as her head turned to his dad. “Can we do the rings now, please?”

Chucho laughed. “Yes, Mija, you can do the rings. Who has them?” he asked aloud.

“Me!” Steve answered and moved to stand next to the older man, being careful not to bump Nate, who’d fallen asleep in the backpack carrier. At some point, the three-year-old Stevie had gone over to his mom and was now sitting in the grass next to her, eating Goldfish crackers out of a plastic baggy from the diaper bag near them. Steve untied the ribbon keeping the gold bands secured, then picked them both up, the pillow getting shoved under his arm. “Here, Jav.” Javier turned a little, holding out his palm to his friend, and her ring was set in it. He faced his bride again.

“At this time, they will exchange rings,” Chucho said, holding his bible in front of him with the notecard atop it. “Javier, go ahead and place it on her finger.” She looked adorably giddy, presenting her left hand to him, and he held it in his palm as he slid the band onto the finger with her engagement ring, pressing it against the other. “Now, repeat after me,” his dad said, reading his notes, “‘with this ring, I seal my promise to be your loving husband forevermore, and just as it has no end, neither shall my love for you.”

Javier’s eyes fastened onto hers, and he repeated what his father said: “With this ring, I seal my promise to be your loving husband forevermore, and just as it has no end, neither shall my love for you.” When he finished speaking, he lifted her hand to press his lips to the new addition on her finger with a kiss, keeping his gaze on her watery one.

“I love you,” she told him.

His thumb rubbed over the gold as he lowered her arm. “I love you, too.”

“Mija,” Chucho said, “it’s your turn.”

Javier held his hand out for her to take, and when she did, goosebumps rose on his skin, practically vibrating from anticipation. Her palm was smaller and softer than his, and he watched as Steve passed her the remaining ring. A big smile formed on his face at her not waiting for his father’s instruction, putting the band onto his finger immediately—it got stuck on his knuckle, and she had to wiggle it a little to finally slide it home.

“Repeat after me,” Chucho said, “‘with this ring, I seal my promise to be your loving wife forevermore, and just as it has no end, neither shall my love for you.”

She held his larger palm in both of her smaller ones, gazing into his eyes and smiling as she said, “With this ring, I seal my promise to be your loving wife forevermore, and just as it has no end, neither shall my love for you.”

His breath hitched as he watched her raise his hand to kiss the band, his eyes burning with unshed tears.

His father started speaking to them, “Now that you’ve proclaimed your love for one another and exchanged rings as a seal of the promises you made today in front of these witnesses and myself, by the power vested in me by the great State of Texas, I am so happy to pronounce you husband and wife! Javier, you may now kiss your bride!”

There was clapping and hollering, someone patted his back, and Javier didn’t waste any time—he was told he could finally kiss this stunning woman in front of him, who he loved more than anything; she completed him and made him happy like no one else—ella es su vida (she is his life), su amor (his love), su media naranja (his soulmate), finalmente su esposa (finally his wife), his Cielito.

The fingers of one of his hands traced over the familiar line of her jaw, the other pulling her tight to his chest, finding the fabric of her dress was as buttery soft as he suspected. The sun had barely sunk below the horizon, leaving the sky fiery in its wake, and as it descended, so did Javier’s mouth onto hers, crushing his lips to hers. At the first touch, it felt like electricity was thrumming just below his skin, his heart racing, the press of her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck making tingles wash down his spine.

It was almost like he was kissing her for the first time, and it started out gentle, wanting to savor this moment with his wife—his wife—they were married. He was a husband and wearing a ring, the metal currently pressed to the warm skin of her cheek. His excitement got the better of him, and he deepened the kiss, licking in her mouth, her soft moan causing arousal to erupt in his belly, feeling blood begin to rush to his groin. She seemed to be just as ravenous as him, their tongues tangling and her hands gripping handfuls of his hair.

Javier didn’t think he could be happier than he was at this moment.

This was the best day of his entire fucking life.

He was a married man with an amazing wife and their lives were intertwined now, becoming one they both shared. What wound him up even more was her taking his last name—not in a possessive way, but because it was another thing they’d share, and Javier wanted to share everything with her. Name, life, home, things, children, all of it, he wanted to have and with her by his side.

His dad’s voice showed amusement when he heard him speak. “We’ll just let them get that out of their system.” People laughed. “It’s my great pleasure to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Peña!”

Mr. and Mrs. Peña.

Nothing sounded more perfect.

They hadn’t stopped kissing, too caught up in each other.

“Why are they trying to eat each other’s faces?” Olivia asked, clearly confused.

Steve shouted, “Cover her eyes, Connie!”

Prev - Next - Series Masterlist - Masterlist

a/n: The song she walked down the aisle to was "Songbird" by Fleetwood Mac. The bible verse mentioned is Song of Solomon 8:6-7 (RSVCE).

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know! 

#pedro pascal #javier peña #Javier Peña/reader #Javier Peña/you #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña fanfiction #wheresarizona writes #learning to live series

[dragonlands]

There's so much negativity around Izzy's death so I wanted to address some of the points I keep seeing thrown around.

"Izzy's death was pointless"

No, he just had his big speech about how basically they can kill him but they cannot kill the movement. That is a clear paraller to a lot of real life protestors of unjustice. He died protecting the community, he died so the community could go on.

"Izzy's death made his healing pointless"

No it didn't. Healing is always good, feeling happiness and belonging are ALWAYS worth it. We never know how long we've got, doesn't mean we gotta stop trying to be better or happier. His healing was still real. It still mattered.

"Izzy's character arc was left unfinished, it's bad writing"

Oh my god. If you open any writing guide about how to write impactful deaths, and the first thing that comes up is to leave some part of their arc unfinished. And his arc did go through quite a beautiful line, sure there could've been more but his story didn't end like, mid arc. As a writer, of course you want to make the audience sad when a character dies. It's good storytelling. Good stories are supposed to make us feel.

"Izzy died on the arms of his abuser"

Where the hell did this idea come from? Ed and Izzy have been in a toxic codependent relationship way before this show started. You could argue that Izzy was Ed's abuser, but that is not the argument I want to make here. Yes, we saw Ed driven to madness shoot Izzy on screen, but we know Izzy's the one that forced him to be Blackbeart when he didn't want it anymore. There's turmoil all around them. But the final moment is them finally meeting as people, not as components of Blackbeard.

"Izzy's death was unnecessarily awful"

His death was sad, yes, but it was quite beautiful as far as deaths go. He was surrounded by family who cared for him. He was loved, and accepted as he is. He knew his legacy will be carried on.

"They killed off the only character that showed us healing is never too late"

Did we watch the same show? That begins with then unhappy 40+ year old Stede deciding it's finally time to reach for his dreams? Where we see Blackbeard slowly gaining back his humanity? Where Black Pete starts off as toxically masculine dude but ends up in a soft gay marriage? Where most of the crew wanted to mutiny but then they realized being soft is good, actually. Jim's whole purpose in life being revenge but them learning to let that go and instead concentrate on love and fun and family. And so on. Izzy's arc is beautiful, but he's not the only person healing who thought it was too late already.

"Izzy's death was bury your gays trope"

No, what, no. In a pirate show where everyobody is queer some queer people will die. Bury your gays is about only having one or few queer characters and killing them off while the straights get their happily ever afters. This is so far from that.

Also, I want people to be aware of the phenomenon, where creators of diverse shows are subjected to more critism than those of non diverse shows. If this intrests you, Sarah Z on Youtube made a great video on it called Double standards and diverse media. Our flag means death has given us so much, queer love story with a happily ever after, finding community, nonbinary character. And the creators have always been so kind to fans, so let's show them tht kindness back. Because critizicing this one aspect can easily turn to seeming like the whole story is just unwanted. That stories like Ed and Stede's aren't worth telling. And I'm so aftraid that will happen, when just now for the first time in years we are finally getting queer stories.

Also, I understand people are sad. I am sad too - Izzy was an amazing character and his death was sad but that's just. Good writing. You can grieve, but trying to turn it into a moral or dramaturgy issue is just not a good look. And attacking the creators of this wonderful show is just horrible.

Remember - this fandom is a safe space ship 🏴‍☠️🏳️‍🌈

#ofmd s2 #ofmd season 2 #ofmd #ofmd spoilers #izzy hands #our flag means death #ofmd meta #ofmd izzy #blackbonnet #gentlebeard

[cozage]

I hope you enjoy the beach and Legend of Zelda. Can I request a Koby x reader who is Garp’s granddaughter (same age as Koby) who wants to be a marine but Garp is overprotective and won’t let her. She and Koby train together and become friends then boyfriend/girlfriend. In the end, she is allowed to join and Garp is a proud grandfather. Just way too much fluff. Please and thank you. 😊

Hiiii! I really did enjoy both so much, thank you :) I’m happy to be writing again though! A break was much needed but I have missed it. 

Characters: female reader x Koby Word Count: 2.3k

To Be a Marine

“You wanted Luffy and Ace to be in the Navy!” you yelled. “Why can’t I?!”

“I already told you!” your grandfather yelled back. “A woman being a marine is much different than a man being a marine!”

“Sexist old man,” you grumbled under your breath. “Ace was right about you.”

“What did you say!?!”

A knock at the door saved you, and two young men entered your grandfather’s office. 

“Ah, my new recruits!” he cheered. 

“You’re joking,” you said, looking at them. “You’ll take them but reject me?”

“Garp-san.” The pink-haired boy bowed to your grandfather. “It would be an honor to train under you.”

“Koby! Helmeppo! Are you ready to go through hell?!”

They both stood and saluted. “Yes sir!”

You scoffed and stormed out the door. 

You saw the two recruits around the base often, but neither of them talked to you much. You were just a civilian on a Marine base, and you held much less stature than even the lowliest of Marines. 

After about a week of ignoring each other, something changed. Koby walked into the room, looking around. You glanced up to see him enter, but returned to your book quickly.

“Your Garp-san’s granddaughter, right?” he asked, startling you. You hadn’t expected him to speak to you. 

“Unfortunately,” you grumbled.

“What do you mean!?” he demanded. “I bet he’s a great grandfather!”

You scoffed. “He won’t let me be a Marine, but he won’t let me be a pirate like my brothers. He just keeps me locked up on this base. Great grandfather he is.”

Koby’s eyes widened. “You’re Luffy’s sister?!”

“Mmmhmm,” you nodded. “I don’t want to be a pirate though. I want to be a Marine.”

Koby laughed. “Yeah, you’re way different than Luffy! All that talk about King of the Pirates-”

“He’ll do it.”

Koby paused, looking at you. “But if you’re a Marine, won’t you have to stop him from achieving his dream?”

You shrugged. “If it comes down to it, I suppose so. But that’s a nonstarter, because I can’t even join.”

Koby hummed for a moment, thinking. 

“Oh!” he finally exclaimed. “What if you get stronger?”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s train! I can teach you what Garp-san is teaching me!” he offered. “And then he has no reason to say no!”

You laughed dryly. “I’m sure he’ll find a reason.”

“You have to fight for your dream!” Koby encouraged. “You have to do everything you can possibly do to make it a reality.”

“You sound like Luffy,” you groaned. “But fine. Teach me. I promise I’ll do my best.”

You could beat him in a fight. You had been able to from the very first day. Growing up with three brothers, you knew how to fight scrappy and dirty. But that kind of fighting didn’t really work in the Navy, and Koby helped you create your own fight style that was mixed between your past and your future. 

For weeks you spent the evenings with Koby, learning about haki and how to use it in an observational and armament sense. You refined your battle abilities, and worked to strengthen your weaknesses. The two of you didn’t associate outside of your normal training, but you still felt a strange tingling sensation whenever his hands touched your skin to correct your form. 

He was handsome, you couldn’t deny that. Even after hours of training when he was drenched in sweat and ready to collapse, you still found yourself admiring his physique. 

“Do you want to go get ice cream?” Koby asked, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “You certainly earned it.”

You looked at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t have to correct your form once today,” he said. “You did good.”

You blushed, pleased to be complimented by him after such hard work. “Thanks,” you muttered. 

“So, ice cream?” Koby grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, starting for the door. 

You shrugged, trying to play it casual. “Sure.”

You walked side by side down the street towards the ice cream shop. Neither of you said much during your journey. You still weren’t entirely sure why Koby was helping you. He didn’t really have anything to gain from helping you, and it’s not like you all were friends beforehand. You almost asked him, but he turned into the ice cream shop, and you lost your courage. 

“Whatever she wants and two scoops of butterscotch in a waffle cone, please,” he asked, handing money to the cashier. 

“Butterscotch?” you asked, a smirk appearing on your face. “You sound like my grandpa.”

“Don’t knock it till you try it!” he said, grabbing his ice cream. “They have the best butterscotch you’ll ever taste.”

You frowned, looking at his cone. “I’ll just do a double-double chocolate in a waffle cone.”

You grabbed your order and the two of you strolled outside and down the sidewalk, still silent. 

“Wanna try it?” he asked, holding out his cone to you. 

Your face scrunched in disapproval, and you shook your head.  

“Come on,” Koby goaded, waving the ice cream in front of your face. 

You had to admit, just the smell was enticing. You grabbed the cone and took a lick. Koby was right, it was probably some of the best ice cream you had tried. It tasted different from the candy your grandfather used to hand you as a child; this was much creamier and lighter, with hints of vanilla and sea salt. 

“Delicious, right?” Koby asked, watching your face light up. “I told you!”

“It puts my double-double chocolate to shame,” you laughed. “I regret not getting that now.”

“We’ll come back,” Koby promised. 

And Koby kept his promise. The days grew hotter, and your trips to the ice cream shop became more frequent. You fell into a pleasant pattern of studying in the mornings, training in the afternoons, and going off on some kind of adventure with Koby in the evenings. Sometimes it was an ice cream shop visit, but he also liked to plan other activities like hikes, picnics, and walks on the beach. 

He taught you how to use and hone your haki abilities, and he held you when you cried out of frustration of failure. He bought your ice cream and held your hand when you walked around town. He picked flowers for you and spent every moment he wasn’t on duty with you. 

You never stopped to consider that friends don’t typically treat friends like the way Koby treated you. It was Koby, after all. The only person you really felt safe with besides your brothers. He was always reliable and he was always there. 

You realized he was more than a friend when you stood alone in the courtyard, waiting for him to show up. Sometimes he was a few minutes late, but it had been almost an hour, and he still hadn’t shown up. If he ever had to cancel, he always sent someone. But it had been radio silence. 

After two hours you finally left the courtyard, trying not to cry. As you entered your grandfather’s apartment, you saw Koby sitting on the couch across from your grandfather. His eyes found yours, and you could see the devastation in his eyes. 

“Y/N.” He stood, reaching out to you. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I-”

“Koby.” Your grandfather's voice was curt and authoritative, and Koby cut his eyes from you and sat back down on the couch. 

You opened your mouth to speak up for Koby, but your grandfather cut you off before you had a chance to get a word out. 

“Do you want to tell me why I had one of my subordinates inform me of your relationship?” he growled at the two of you. 

You felt your cheeks flush. You had just come to the realization that you had feelings for the man sitting on the couch. You weren’t sure how news traveled so fast when you hadn’t even told Koby yet, but your grandfather had to be the first to find out. 

“Me and Koby aren’t in a relationship,” you said.

Koby squinted his eyes at you from across the room. He opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it. 

Your grandfather laughed a hearty laugh at your response. “Denial isn’t gonna work, kid. Koby already told me.”

“Told you what?” you asked. Your head whipped to Koby with fear in your eyes. “You didn’t tell him about-”

“No!” Koby rushed to say, looking at you. He gave Garp a quick side glance. “I mean, yes! I told him about how we’re dating and that’s why we’ve been spending so much time together.”

You could feel your grandfather’s watchful eyes on you. He knew you were hiding something, but he couldn’t quite tell what it was about. 

Koby walked over and grabbed your hand. It was something he had done hundreds of times before, but now it gave you butterflies. He gave you a reassuring squeeze and a small smile before turning back to your grandfather. 

“We didn’t tell you because we were afraid of the predicament it would put you in, Garp-san.” Koby lied. “We apologize.”

“You know you could get kicked out of the Navy for hiding a relationship with an on-base civilian, Koby,” Garp said, looking at him. “You sure this is the story you want to go with?”

“Yes,” Koby said confidently. 

You stared at him. This isn’t how you wanted it to go down. You couldn’t ask him to give up his dream just so you could have yours. 

“No,” you said, looking at your grandfather. “He’s lying.”

“Stop,” Koby hissed. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not!”

“Quiet!” Garp yelled, silencing you both and cutting off your argument. “Tell me, Y/N. What have you been doing with Koby all this time then?”

You swallowed, mustering up the courage to finally ask- no, demand a place in the Navy. 

“We’ve been training,” you said. You could feel Koby squeezing your hand to get you to stop, but you refused to back down from this fight. “He’s helping me become a Marine.”

Your grandfather stared at you for a few moments, and then burst out into his booming, room-filling laugh. He laughed for a long time, and when he finally settled down, he wiped tears from his eyes and looked at you. 

“A Marine, huh?” he asked.

You took a breath, deciding how to respond. As you were thinking, you sensed it. You jumped back, pulling Koby with you. The two of you got out of the way just before your grandfather’s fist slammed into the ground, creating light cracks in the floor from the source of impact. 

“Grandpa!” you screamed. You looked in horror at the ground, but your grandfather only began laughing again. 

“You taught her haki, I see,” he said, looking at Koby. 

“Yes sir,” Koby said. “She’s a fast learner.”

“I bet she is.” Your grandfather looked at you and gave you a sad smile. He put his hand on top of your head, ruffling your hair. 

“Alright. You can be a Marine.”

Your eyes widened and a smile spread across your face. “Really?!”

“Just answer one thing,” he said. 

“Anything!” you cried. 

“Do you really just see Koby here as your trainer?” he asked, looking back and forth between the two of you.

“I-'' you paused, exchanging glances with the boy whose hand you were still holding. Suddenly you felt dizzy and very aware of how clammy your hand was in his. 

“You too, Koby,” your grandfather said, walking out the door. “Is she just some girl you trained?”

The door slammed shut, and you two stared at each other in silence. 

“No,” Koby whispered. “No, you-I-We could-”

You smiled at him. You wanted to say something too, but you knew you’d be stammering as much as him. 

So instead you changed the subject. “Should we go get ice cream?”

Koby’s eyes glanced down at your lips, and then back up to your eyes. 

“Ice cream sounds good,” he said softly, looking a little disappointed. 

“Okay.” You gave his hand a squeeze, settling for an ice cream date instead of a confession. Words didn’t matter that much in the big picture. 

You all walked to the ice cream shop, hand in hand. Your hands still felt clammy, but the air felt lighter. You were going to be a Marine. You had Koby by your side. 

The cashier saw you two, and had your two scoops of butterscotch ice cream in waffle cones before you even stepped up to the register. 

Neither of you said much on your walk back. You talked a bit about what life would be like once you were officially in the Marines, but you already knew it all. Koby had spent the past few months answering all of your questions to help keep you motivated. 

You arrived at your apartment door, and you finally pulled your hand away from his. 

“See you tomorrow?” you asked, opening the door to your apartment. 

“See you tomorrow,” he promised, giving you a tense smile. 

You nodded and walked inside, closing the door behind you. 

It was only a moment later when there was a knock at the door. Thinking Koby must’ve forgotten something, you turned and opened it again. 

“Ye-” Koby cut off your question with his lips, lunging forward to meet your own.  

His lips smashed into yours, and you embraced every second of it. You hung there suspended in time, the two of you existing in the moment. Funnily enough, only one thought came to mind: Butterscotch tasted even better on his lips than on ice cream.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #koby one piece #captain koby #koby x reader #cozage #✧˚koby✧˚

[pastafossa]

Hi, let's talk gatekeeping fanfic. First, if you bully teenage girls out of the fandom for writing like teenagers who're still learning, you are a terrible person. Because you were that teenager. I get some of us fic writers like to pretend we came out of the womb clutching a bloody, sticky 250k word in-depth character study fic that would rank in the top ten most kudos'd fics in the fandom ever if only our eyeballs and coordination were developed enough to transfer it to a screen, but that's a massive pile of horseshit, and you know it. You wrote with mashed paragraphs and mispellings and clunky dialogue. You used the same tropes you like to mock young writers for. So maybe have a flashback and then chill.

And just in case you don't care about that, you're also literally shooting yourself in the face, because a TON of writers (which often includes you) generally follow this trend:

Get excited about a character or fandom when you're younger and/or not a Leveled Up Writer yet

Decide to try writing fanfic for the first time

Bang something out and excitedly post it

Either get good or helpful/encouraging reactions that make you want to keep keep writing, or you get a bunch of sneering comments about teenagers by grownass gatekeepers who, for some reason, feel smug about mocking excited novices who're trying to write a fun story, thus chasing you away from writing.

And there's where you fuck yourself over if you pick the shit-covered Door #2. Because a writer can't improve unless they write. Oh, you might not see the effect immediately, but after a few years, the fanfic scene will die down as writers move on to less toxic spaces (or give up entirely). And you will have no one to fill the void. YOU are the reason you'll get less fic. Imagine mocking and making fun of a new piano player whose first song on piano is Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. "Ugh, I hate this basic teenage crap, are you just banging on keys? Come back when you can play Moonlight Sonata."

I literally do not give one single shit if you 'approve' of some teenager's (or adult's!) fic. If they're happy creating the equivalent of a cake with a stick figure design, that's awesome cause they made themselves a cake they enjoy. Alternatively, they're practicing making cake and no cake is perfect the first time, unless you learn something, in which case it's served its purpose and is a great cake due to fulfilling that purpose.

Tell you what - you want to gatekeep? Here's who you can gatekeep in fanfic:

Plagiarists.

There. Go nuts.

And if you're a novice writer, be it teenager or adult, deciding to try writing fic for the first time, please, please don't let them tear you down. Please don't stop writing. Don't stop learning. Don't stop creating. Don't stop being so filled with love for a story and its characters that you have to create just so you can breathe a little easier without your words and story filling up all that space around your lungs. I promise you, I promise, that every single writer you love has been at where you're at now, and the only reason they write like they do now is that they kept going, kept trying, kept writing. People will talk about talent but it plays a far smaller role than you think - this is 90% practice. And that means you can learn this.

You can do this.

So do it.

#fanfic #fic #i have seen waaaay too many gatekeepers lately bitching about teens writing fic #and then usually segueing into mocking adult novice writers too #stop being a shithead you were a novice writer too #you know how you got better? by practicing #not by being shit all over by writers who want to pretend their first work was Shakespeare level #please keep writing

[callofdudes]

hi dude. I came with a new idea! How do Ghost, Konig, Roach, and Alex react to the reader doing the belly dance? It's like they saw it by chance. But it's not a vigorous oriental dance, Rather as if the reader is dancing lightly, in a white silk and long ankle-length oriental skirt, gracefully draping her waist from side to side.

It will be neither too long nor too short, can you write headcanons please?

Have a nice day 🌊

Here ya go @greenkiki sorry it took me so long 😅😅

König 🐙

Would either run away in terror at what he just saw thinking seeing something like that was completely illegal. Or he'd be dragged in and just sit there watching you with awe.

No in between.

He's just drawn into the way the skirt moves and your hips and how everything just flows together. It's amazing to him.

Belly dancing isn't terribly popular in Germany or Austria so it's one of the first times he's actually seen it in person. If he'd ever seen it at all.

He was surprised to learn you weren't in pain shifting your hips like that, even when it was slow.

He's a bit of a poetic and you can't tell me otherwise. This man has metaphors left and right for the way you dance and flow around like the breeze or the ocean. The way you look so calm and happy while you do so.

When you do show him fast, competitive belly dancing you scare him.

"See, it's like this. It's really easy-"

"Oh my gosh your hips- stop it stop! You'll break something!"

You laugh and keep doing it as König tries not to look but also looks because how can he not??

It's slightly horrifying, but in a good way. The way you can move like that is hypnotic and almost ensnares him into feeling his heart beat out of his chest while watching you.

But he definitely wants to keep watching. And you do. He's so drawn he'll sit on your bed and just watch you as you practice. Slow rhythmic dances. It really is... Amazing.

He absolutely loves watching you. I mean, he's just genuinely and purely infatuated with it.

And he's probably too nervous to ever speak it, but there is a tiny part of him, a part inside him that doesn't just want to sit there and watch you.

He wants to touch you, to feel the skirt on your waist and his hands on your warm hips as you dance around in his arms. Geez... this has unlocked new things inside him.

Roach 🪳

I bring you the world's best hype man. He'll clap and smile at you, his eyes twinkling and you can see his eyes scrunching a little.

When he first sees you, he's quiet enough that he can watch from the crack in your door. He is also intrigued, and just watching you. It's so interesting and it looks fun. He watches the way your hips move and how you look so happy and in the zone, it's pretty. Very pretty.

And in common Roach fashion if you're wearing a skirt with the little beads and shiny reflective disks, he's all over that. We been knew.

After you're finished the song Roach will burst into your room with happy clapping and some bsl clapping as well, bouncing around and looking at the outfit up close before you can even register the man is in your room.

"Roach?? Hey buddy, what- what did you see??" You were a little flustered he found you like that but Roach is all smiles. He flicks the little beads and feels how soft the skirt is.

And how you moved. Twirling his finger ad to excitedly ask you to do it again.

And he sits on your bed and watches you as you do. It's just so cool, and pretty.

"Do you like it?? When I do this?"

He nods, pointing to your belly button and poking it, making you blush again. "Well, thank you buddy."

He's hype man. Anywhere and everywhere, hype man. You must share these talents with the world.

He is always trying to get you to show him, to see if you can do it in regular clothes or your military gear. One time after a victory, he even tried to do some dance moves himself.

As you can imagine it didn't look that great. But he tried!

He's baby, but remember, even baby has a few secret thoughts of his own that he's... storing for later.

Ghost 💀

In the spirit of sharing your talents with the world, Roach has dragged you to his best friend in the whole world, who also shall appreciate your talents.

You're a little embarrassed to say the least when Ghost raises an eyebrow as Roach gets him to sit and points to you. In your outfit. Roach just... purely wants to share what you can do, and that is what truly makes your cheeks heat up.

And so you do, a little dance with some music on. Ghost acts completely disinterested, he doesn't look like he cares. There is a part of him that wants to reach out and touch those hips. A small inkling inside of him that wants to be behind you, to hold you and let you guide him around while you do... whatever heavenly thing you're doing right now.

There is nothing innocent about it. Roach wants to show him this and doesn't expect Ghost to take it in a whole new light.

After the fact he does run into you one time in your room when you're dancing. He can't help himself slipping into your room and running his hands just briefly, the tips of his gloved fingers over your skin.

"You are one intriguing gal, aren't you?"

You blush, your movements still, but Ghost gives you enough room to continue.

"Think you can teach me?"

"I think I possibly could."

Yeah, this man isn't going back. Sorry but there is new brain chemistry for him to consider. Especially since he's genuinely never seen a dance like this. In his entire life. Which is probably one of the reasons he's so attracted to it.

But hey, let's be honest, if it was anyone else, he'd still walk away.

Alex 🦿

Saw it but chance, and from every incident now on, sees it by choice 😤

Look at him, innocent man, walking to the barracks all alone when he hears this music. The music he's never heard coming from your room. Interesting, the song is kind of catchy. He was going to ask you about it when he approached your room and saw you.

Oh.

Oh.

He's not disrespectful but can you get any more beautiful?? He was barely hanging on to his resolve for these missions by threads and now there is nothing.

You look absolutely stunning. Genuinely how you move is beautiful and you look to be enjoying yourself a lot.

He doesn't have the courage to approach you, but he just stands there, watching you. He can't take his eyes off you.

Until the song stops and you turn around for some water, only to notice him... now to you it looks creepy because you can only see one half of his face.

"Alex?? What... are you doing there??"

"Huh? Me, I wasn't standing. Doing nothing. Nuh uh."

You scoff lightly. "I mean... you can come in, if You're not going to be weird about it."

"Me?? Weird??" He's already in your room with the permission. Sitting on your bed and getting comfy. "I am never weird..."

Ah, those next 30 minutes of watching you dance and be in your happy place is a blessing for him.

You're beautiful to him. He just absolutely loves the way you move, the way your body shifts. And he was a fool to think that he'd discovered everything there was to you.

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #call of duty headcanons #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #konig #konig cod #konig x y/n #konig x reader #könig headcanons #könig x reader #call of duty roach #gary roach sanderson #roach headcanons #gary roach sanderson headcanons #alex keller #alex cod #alex keller x reader

[officialfoxsquadron]

Luke Skywalker NSFW Alphabet

Writing exercise complete! Here's some headcanons revolving around this NSFW alphabet meme. Just smutty, horny thoughts under the cut. Generally throughout the Original Trilogy with a gender neutral reader!

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

No matter the era, Luke is incredibly sweet after sex. He’s always happy to clean you up and prefers, if he can, spending lots of time kissing and cuddling afterwards. I honestly think the aftercare would be one of his favorite parts, just spending time with his loved one and falling asleep together.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part is his eyes. I think he’s not really prone to much vanity, but sometimes he does look at himself in the mirror and think “Huh. They really ARE blue.” And you KNOW once he gets the ESB arms he is like wow…wish my dad didn’t cut off my hand…because my arms look so damn good right now…the true tragedy.

I have posted about Luke being attracted to thighs, but I also am firmly in the “Luke is a tits/chest man” camp. It’s just true! Sorry!

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

First of all shout out to the community for canonizing for me that Luke cums an absurd amount b/c…yes. His preference would be to cum inside of you, but he also loves to cum on your stomach and just see how much of it there is. He’d also be really into cumming in your mouth and tasting it afterwards.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He is interested in exploring pain as pleasure, both giving and receiving. But he wouldn’t do it without a trusted partner and a lot of talk beforehand. Otherwise he’s pretty open about his fantasies.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

I mean, oh my god. I think this depends on the timeline. A New Hope Luke has very little experience beyond making out, I think. But he would be very eager to learn. ESB Luke? Has at least fucked a few times and is just generally more knowledgeable. ROTJ Luke and beyond? It does not matter whether or not he is experienced, the man can read your thoughts so he’ll probably do fine.

F = Favorite Position

He likes anything really intimate. He loves missionary, but also really loves spooning you and the access it gives him to your body. He also looooves you on top - he’s able to really look at you, feel you, even change it into a sitting position and make out.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Again, this depends. He definitely can be, and I think he’d be able to laugh about any awkwardness or silly mishaps. He’s also really playful, and would love play fights or tickling that turns into more. But, I also think he can get pretty intense at times, especially during the act and right before he cums.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He tries to keep things neat, but he’s not too concerned with it. His hair is a little darker, and he has a small happy trail from his belly button. 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Okay this is a big one. I think the intimacy of sex is the most important thing for him. Given his connection to the Force, sex is just as much of an intense mental experience as it is physical. So all this to say, he is very romantic, making sure his partner is happy, giving them as much pleasure as he can. He always, always, always would want to cum simultaneously or very close together.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

So I headcanon Luke as on the ace spectrum (demisexual), so this headcanon definitely relates to that.

I think he’d occasionally masturbate, but it’s not like he feels he NEEDS to. Especially in the Rebellion, if he ever gets a moment alone, I feel like he would just be thinking, “Oh, nice, I can jack off now! Great!” And then just...not think of it again for four more weeks because he’s so damn busy.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Man is never beating the praise kink allegations, sorry! He loves being told how amazing he’s doing and how well he’s pleasing you.

I think he’d be really into overstimulation? The idea of upping the intensity of pleasure, chasing multiple orgasms…yeah he’d love it. 

I also headcanon him as a switch, and he’d love taking control sometimes. But he’d also love you in control, making him beg–especially during ROTJ and beyond. He is so in control of his feelings and finally started to work out this whole Jedi thing-he’d love a partner who can ease him into losing control for once.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

A little boring, but given his history, he would be so excited to make love in a big, plush bed. He’s so used to sleeping in bunks, on the literal ground, or on his ship, so he thinks it’s the most romantic thing ever. Any time he is near a body of water or has a real shower, he also wants to take some time there together-even if it’s just to make out or cuddle (but lbrh, it always ends in sex.) Also, despite the logistical nightmare, you definitely fuck in his X-Wing at least once.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Adrenaline is a huge one! Anytime he’s working out or fighting, he’d get turned on easily. He’d like sparring or training with his sexual partner. And as much as he likes to tease his partner, he loves being teased in return. Especially if you’re newly dating, he would get flustered very, very easily by the minimum amount of flirting.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Definitely not into choking for obvious reasons, same with being called daddy. I also don’t think he’d do something involving non-consent.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Luke loves giving oral! He could spend hours pleasing his partner, drawing multiple orgasms out of them. He loves to receive too-loves wrapping his hands in his hair, and especially loves if you let him fuck your mouth.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He prefers to go slow and really take his time. Time is such a luxury to him, so pretty much any time he can draw things out he will. That being said, he doesn’t mind something more rough and passionate, especially if it’s been a while since he’s seen you.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He’d be down, especially if your schedules are busy and as a younger man, when his passion tends to run hot.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He definitely loves to experiment! He’s probably not super knowledgeable (personally I think Tatooine was pretty sexually conservative, as rural areas tend to be.) But as soon as he’s with someone he trusts, it’s like a flip switches.

Hmm. In terms of risks, I mean…this is the guy who took one look at the Death Star trench run and was like “oh this is easy.” So he’d definitely be down for a few risks (something semi-public or with the danger of getting caught) but I don’t think he’d go crazy.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

As a younger man, he can definitely go for a few rounds. During ANH/ESB he sometimes finishes a little faster than he intends (sorry Luke!) but eventually, his patience grows. ROTJ and beyond, though-it’s pretty much the exact opposite. He has a ton of patience that he uses to tease you. 

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

I think he’s willing to experiment! He might not immediately think of it but with a partner who’s interested, sure. I don’t think he owns any toys.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Luke is such a tease. He has so much fun drawing out the experience for his partner and getting them worked up. I have this headcanon of him just whispering the most insanely horny things to a partner in semi-public settings and..yeah he 100% would!

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Luke is also not beating the vocal heacanons, sorry! He will whine and beg, like he can get pathetic. But there’s also times where he’s surprisingly calm and quiet, just staring at you or panting softly, completely lost in the moment.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon)

LET’S TALK ABOUT INAPPROPRIATE USE OF THE FORCE.

Especially pre-Jedi Training, there will be some moments where he would accidentally use the Force during sex. It wouldn’t be conscious but like, let’s say he’s gripping a headboard and he’d accidentally grip it a little too hard? Or right after both of you finish, in the hazy afterglow, he’d reach for a towel and it would just..float into his hand.

ROTJ and beyond, he would be very very cool with using the Force for your pleasure, but only with explicit permission. (He’s a Consent King, what can I say.)

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

I still maintain Luke is packing, given some of the ahem EVIDENCE we have throughout Mark’s career. Also, he’s uncut. He’s long with some girth, but nothing disproportionate.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Hm. So I headcanon Luke as demisexual so I’d say it depends. If he doesn’t have a partner his sex drive is pretty low. But if he has a partner, oh LORD. I think he’d want to be having sex literally all the time. Especially if you just started sleeping together. You would need 3-5 business days of just fucking together before he’s satisfied. He’d be so excited to just explore with a new partner!

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) 

Especially after an intense session, he can fall asleep pretty quickly! But he at least wants to clean you up and make sure you’re alright before he knocks out for the night. He just feels really pleasantly sleepy afterwards.

#eowyn speaks #my writing #luke skywalker smut #luke skywalker headcanons #luke skywalker #luke skywalker x reader

[nabateaprodigy]

I'm so sorry if you actually aren't taking requests I am a little confused as English is not my first language I'm still learning as I go

could I request for kokichi and nagito for a s/o that's emotionally sensitive, cries alot and comes off as clingy and really enjoys simple physical touch like hand holding and pats, stuff like that generally (thank you if you can and so sorry if you closed requests for all)

Kokichi and Nagito With a Sensitive S/O

Series: Danganronpa.

Characters: Kokichi and Nagito.

Genre: Fluff.

Reader: Gender Neutral.

Notes: Don't worry! Your English is fine! Honestly English is my first language and sometimes I can't even write or speak it lmao.

Kokichi

This little...well at first like anyone else he would trick and play pranks on you. When he first played a prank on you he expected you to be confused or annoyed. He well...he didn't think you would end up crying because of the prank.

Because of this, he ended up feeling pretty guilty about it. So pranks were something he wouldn't do to you. Well, he'd still prank Miu, Gonta, Shuichi, and the others.

So instead he'd tease you! Not nearly as bad as a prank so this would be fine right? Well, it seems not you'd also get upset from the teasing as well. What a horrible boyfriend always making you cry smh. 🙄

But over time he'd come to realize this was just how you were and to keep the pranks and teasing to a minimum or stop all altogether if that's what you wanted. However, in his heart he couldn't stop teasing you he just had to see your cute flustered face!

I feel like Kokichi would at first act annoyed by how clingy you are. But in truth, he loves it oh so much. He loves how you feel comfortable and safe to hold hands and hug him.

In truth, it probably also made him a little overprotective of you. But seeing your smile and just the fact you've stuck with him. Means the world to him and he wants nothing more for you to be safe and happy.

Nagito

"Huh? Why would want to hug trash like me?" This mf I swear it never stops with him 🙄. He knows you're clingy but he still doesn't understand as he puts it to hug. "Trash like me."

(Tbh he should know the answer because he's your boyfriend!) Even though Nagito says things like this he loves how clingy you are with him. Plus in my opinion, he'd be great to cuddle with just look at that hair! It's so soft!

I feel like if you don't see Nagito for a while or if he's with his friends. You can get pretty jealous and even more clingy! If he is talking with someone you'll go up and hug him from behind.

Honestly, if you were to cry or ever feel insecure Nagito wouldn't allow you to feel that way for long. You're his S/O you're amazing and are such a great person! He'll love you no matter what so don't be afraid to tell him anything.

In his eyes, you're an angel and he thanks his luck he was able to be with you. If you ever are feeling down have no fear Nagito is here! He wants you to be happy so if you're feeling down he can be just as clingy!

Of course, he'll get cuddly with you and get you whatever you want! Just ask as long as it's for it's worth it. "You look wonderful today angel. I know trash like me doesn't deserve it but can I have a kiss?"

#danganronpa #danganronpa 2 #danganronpa 2 goodbye despair #danganronpa v3 #danganronpa v3 killing harmony #danganronpa fluff #fluff #danganronpa imagines #komaeda nagito #nagito komaeda #nagito fluff #nagito x reader #nagito x y/n #x gender neutral reader #gender neutral #gender neutral reader #kokichi oma x reader #danganronpa kokichi #kokichi ouma #x reader #request #fanfic #fanfiction #fic request #imagines #sdr2 #drv3 #dr x reader #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa headcanons

[mikalame]

hiya!!! could you write a really sweet fic (story) about y/n and Bill getting a huge matching tattoo together and Bill being asked about this tattoo on an interview and he just gets really shy etc (could you make the reader female and a singer) please ?

bye :D

"Are you sure you want to do this meine leibe, this is gonna take a couple hours, and will hurt a bit being where it is" Bill asks, eyes searching your face for any sign you may not feel 100% about this, exspechily because its a tattoo that will be on you forever.

"Yes im sure Bill, I've researched and all plus ill ask for some numbing cream, are you okay bill" You ask thinking that the reason he keeps asking you if your okay is becasue he isn't.

"Of course, i cant wait" he says kissing your cheek giving you tight hug and pushing open the tattoo shop's door.

Time skip

"how are you feeling hun, you in any serious pain" Bill asks eyes scanning over you again looking down at you, eyebrows pinched.

"Im fine Billl" you whine playfulling pushing him away giggling.

You two smile at eachother and walk to your car you look at your forearm and the tattoo placed on it, the phantom pain of it comeig back to you but the pride and meaning of it over powers it.

Time skip again

"SO WELCOME..... TOKIO HOTEL!" the interveiwer yells at the camera, the crowd behind it full on fangirls and boys yell in exsitement waving their banners and posters around hoping to catch one of the band members attention.

As the band walks on the stage single file line they wave at the fans, the majority of them smiling wider and yelling louder, while the crazy super fans faint or start yelling not so innocent things (i dont blame them ahaha)

"Hello we are so happy to be on the show with you today" Bill says taking the mircophone from the interviewer so the audiance could hear them clearly.

"Well im glad, so today we have a couple questions to ask you, if thats all right with you all" She says looking over the band and seeing their nodding heads.

"Okay, great sooo the first question is from.... Marie asking if any of you have any big regrets in you career". She cocks an eyebrow then looks at the band, a smile on her face.

"Oh well uhm probably styling my hair with CANS of hairspray, kinda wish i just wore a wig but oh well" Bill says shrugging passing the mircophone along.

"Oh hahaha, Okay next question" She says smile dropping as she reads the next couple of questions out.

"Oooo okay this one is for Bill , aparently you were seen with ___ going into a tattoo parlor, do you care to show us what you got" she asks smirk stretching on her face.

"Oh, uhm no sorry" Bill says shaking his head in disagreement, but the interviwer just keeps on begging.

After a while it really started to get on him nerves, more so when she brought the audiance in on it as well, but bill just kept on saying no, blushing hinding if face.

The tattoo was very important to bill and he didnt feel like it should be made public like this, exspeachily when it had such a deep meaning for bill and ___.

"Oh, well sorry ladys and gentlemen thats all the time we have today, sorry i coldn't make bill show the new tattoo but mabey next time" she say fake smile still prominent on her face.

As the band walks of the stage fareing their good byes bill mutters under his voice.

"There wont be a 'next time'".

They all groan as they sit down in the tour bus, tom cracking his back as well as gustav. "She was real adamant on getting the tattoo shown" Georg laughs opening a bag of chips sitting down across from the boy.

"Yeah she need to learn to take no for an answer, she must be a real treat in bed" tom laughs sarcastically behind the two.

"mmh" bill agrees putting his headphones in listening to a song ___ and him made when he was staying at her house one of the first times they met thinking about calling her when they head off to check up on her.

SORRY GUYS I DIDNT KNOW HOW TO END IT 😭.

taglist @oppopotamus @violentnewmarley @saumspam @adissonsss

#tokio hotel #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz fluff #bill kaulitz x reader #gustav schäfer #georg listing #tom kaulitz

[mouschiwrites]

hi hi! can I request some headcanons about the ninja (+pixal, if you're up for it) having an artist s/o? okay thank you, also I love your writing!

Oooh yess!! Where my artist ninjago enjoyers at⁉️ I’ve come to nourish you <3

Ninjago - Ninjas (+ Pixal) with an Artist s/o

Jay

Immediately asks if you can draw/paint/etc him

If you agree, he will ask again in the future

….honestly he’ll probably keep asking even if you say no

What can he say? He wants to inspire you ;)

If you have art block, he immediately jumps to pose dramatically or arrange a bowl of fruit or something

He’s equally enamored with the quality of your work and the fact that it came from your hands

He loves all your work, even the pieces you decide to scrap/re-do

“What are you doing?? That was perfect!”

“Jay? How long have you been standing there-”

On that note, he loves to watch you work

Even when you don’t know he’s watching… (he’s a little obsessed)

But the plus side of this is that he knows the exact products you use, and he can see when you’re running low

He makes sure to replenish your stocks for you :) so you won’t ever have to worry about running out mid-project

He also makes sure to flaunt your work as much as possible, especially the pieces he “inspired”

He truly thinks you’re the best artist in the world, and he WILL fight someone over it

Cole

I see Cole as a pretty artsy guy himself, so he’d be thrilled to have an artsy s/o

You might not expect it, but he’s really in tune with his feelings, so to me it makes sense

He’s not quite as artsy as you, but he knows how to appreciate it

He’s more into the performing arts himself, but he has no less respect for other types of art

He’ll totally arrange work sessions for you both, which vary depending on the vibe you’re working with

Feeling like doing something a little dark or moody? Dramatic piano. Candles. Wine/grape juice in wine glasses.

Feeling colorful? Open windows. Flowers in vases. Candy and fruit. Maybe some cartoons playing in the background.

Point being: he knows how to get a vibe going

He really loves to work alongside you, even if you’re not doing the same thing

Sometimes he tries to sketch or paint, but more often he’s just watching you work or practicing moves

(You guys totally have a shared studio btw; wood floors and barre for him, easel/supply cabinet/whatever you need for you)

You guys definitely help each other out too

He’ll teach you a few moves so you can be his dance partner every now and again, and he’s more than happy to be your muse in return

He doesn’t really do performances or anything (dance is just a side hobby), so he has all the more respect for you if you publicize your work

He loves all your work, but he’s also a great source of constructive criticism

“I like this one. It’s darker than your other pieces, though, isn’t it? More drab.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda what I was thinking. I think I was just in a mood when I made it.”

Kai

He’ll make requests, but mostly for things he thinks would be cool

“What if you did one with, like, a car shooting flames from its exhaust pipes? Oh! And the driver is super handsome with a flaming cape and swords and sunglasses that are made of pieces of the sun!”

“That is insane. …I’m starting right now.”

He really admires your art, and he’s honestly a bit jealous of your skill

He actually has a pretty creative mind, just not the means to express it

So he’ll be shy about it, but eventually he asks if you can give him some pointers

He doesn’t want to keep asking you to bring his sharks flying in jets over volcanoes to life forever, after all

He’s gotta learn to be independent!

So he’ll quietly join you while you work, watching you closely and trying to follow along

He gets frustrated when he isn’t instantly as talented as you, and you have to laughingly assure him that skill takes time

He only gains more respect for you as he tries to stay calm

He learns to truly admire your work this way

And with his admiration came a tenfold increase in support

However you share your art, he’s the #1 supporter

Posting online? He’s already liked, commented, and shared on 7 different platforms. At a showcase? He’s dressed sharply, stationed not-so-inconspicuously in front of your piece(s) and getting others to talk about them

Zane

He also has a deep appreciation for art

He doesn’t always understand non-logical things, but art has a way of resonating with him

So to have a partner who makes art…

It adds a whole new level of emotional depth to your relationship

You already make him feel complex things, so seeing art that’s from you is truly an experience

The wistfulness he gets when looking at normal art is only amplified when he remembers that your hands produced it

He likes to be with you when he admires it, squeezing your hand while he takes in the little details

He’s a quiet admirer, but he’ll absolutely attend any events you’re featured in/support any online presence you have

He never gets tired of looking at your work; or looking at you work, for that matter

If you let him, he’ll watch you work

He’s dead silent, which is either a blessing or a curse depending on how easily you get creeped out

Eventually, when you finish, he’ll stand up and join you at your side, admiring the final product

You know he likes it when he reaches for your hand with a smile, letting you rest your head against him

The most you’ll get verbally is “it’s beautiful,” but trust me, he feels so much more deeply about the piece (and you <3)

Lloyd

Lloyd is more curious than anything when he finds out you’re an artist

What kinds of art do you do? Can he see your work? Have you always liked art?

He’s eager to see your work, but he’s not sure he can “appreciate” it properly

You have to reassure him that there’s no one way to “appreciate” art, and however he feels about it, that’s just how he feels

Your response only increases his interest

He ends up getting more into art because of you

The art of appreciation, if you will

He wants to be able to understand your work more so that he knows how to support you

He mostly spends hours just staring at your work, trying to notice the little details

He’d love to watch you at work, too, if you’ll let him

He asks questions all the time, but still tries not to annoy you

He’s actually already a natural at “appreciating” art, but the fact that he’s always trying to learn only makes him better at it

So you can do nothing but smile while he tilts his head, carefully formulating his next question

They’re surprisingly deep at times:

“Do you think this piece uses smoother shapes because you were feeling relaxed, so you moved more slowly? Or perhaps you were just emulating your calmness subconsciously..?”

“That could be it. I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

“Oh, sorry, am I overanalyzing? Sorry-”

“No, no, you’re totally right.”

You’ll ruffle his hair affectionately, and he’ll wrap an arm around your shoulder while he continues to examine your piece :]

Nya

I’m gonna be honest, I don’t see Nya as the type to get all deep over the meaning of art

Like, if it’s pleasing to the eye she’ll appreciate it, but she doesn’t think about it too much

It’s just too abstract for her tastes; the pseudo-reasoning of art critics gets on her nerves

But for your work she makes an exception

Well, not really an exception—she doesn’t take to pseudo-reasoning

She knows you, she knows your feelings, so when she sees your work, she sees a piece of you in it

It’s something she doesn’t see in other art pieces; she doesn’t know the artist, so it’s nothing more than a visual piece for her

But with your pieces, she can dig deeper because she knows deeper information

That’s why she loves your work, and why she loves watching you work

You’re the only artist that makes her feel like she really understands art, and for that she appreciates you

(She still thinks that most critics talk out of their asses though)

On that note, she will fight your critics. She will hunt them down and make them regret ever trying to “understand” your work

“Tch, look at this idiot. He doesn’t even know what he’s talking about! He doesn’t know you!”

“Nya, he’s complimenting my work-”

“But he doesn’t understand it!”

Honestly you think it’s a little funny how she’s unintentionally become one of those critics who argue about a piece’s meaning

Only for you though ;)

Pixal

She has a vast trove of knowledge, but feeling is something she often struggles with

There are few things that actually give her profound emotions

Your art is one of those things

The fact that it came from you, that your hands crafted it…

It stirs something in her, and suddenly the shapes and colors come to life

She asks you about it often, trying to understand

“Why is it… calming?”

“Well, I suppose I used some pretty muted colors, and the imagery is kinda peaceful… I dunno, does it calm you?”

“Yes. It makes me feel calm.”

Obviously you’re proud of her for better recognizing her emotions

And she’s proud of herself!!

Your art helps her understand a part of her that she’s only beginning to explore

And, since it comes directly from you, she credits you with the help :)

She loves to see your finished work, but she also finds herself mesmerized by your creative process

Watching the piece come together, each motion bringing it closer to completion, helps her understand the art itself

She tells herself that it helps her understand her feelings, too

Even though she knows that not every piece is dedicated to her, she always thanks you for showing her your work <3

Thanks for this request!! And thank you for reading, take care you little rockstars <33

(divider by saradika)

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago headcanons #ninjago x reader #kai smith #kai smith x reader #kai x reader #cole brookstone #cole brookstone x reader #cole x reader #jay walker #jay walker x reader #jay x reader #lloyd garmadon #lloyd garmadon x reader #lloyd x reader #zane julien #zane julien x reader #zane x reader #nya smith #nya smith x reader #nya x reader #pixal x reader #pixal borg #pixal borg x reader

[anangelwhodidntfall]

A Whole New Word: Part I

A Whole New World Masterlist 

word count: 1.3k

description: Y/n a former teacher from earth arrive on pandora after receiving a phone call from her best friend Jake Sully inviting you to come take over Grace Augustine's school. After arriving to Pandora and working with her avatar for a few weeks and studying the environment and people. Jake invites her to camp but on the way there, she ends up twisting her ankle and meeting the famous warrior Tsu’tey.

taglist:  @inutheangel @moonchildxoxx​

if you liked this, please let me know. if you didn’t like this, let me know as well. and a big kiss and heartfelt thank you for those of you who always reblog, comment and like my writing. that keeps me going, my besties 💕

Next Part​

You were woken up out of a six-year sleep where they ran you through some tests, before briefing you on what would be happening now that you were here. More often than not, you found yourself admiring the beauty of the world around you.

"Welcome y/n, we are so happy to have you here with us." Norm and Max said shaking your hands.

"Hi guys, thank you so much for allowing me to come." You said to them.

"So this is where we link up for our avatars and this is your avatar." They said showing you your avatar.

"She's beautiful." You said looking at her.

"Just like you." Jake said making you turn and look at him with a smile.

"Giant!" You said with a smile as he picked up and hugged you.

"Short stack, oh how I've missed you." He said hugging you before placing you on the ground.

"I've missed you more, thank you for thinking of bringing me out here." You said to him.

"Of course! I wouldn't want anyone else here with me." He said to you.

For the next few weeks, you were constantly going through training with your body and getting used to it while also studying the planet, the people, and everything. It was all so fascinating to learn about. Currently, you were going through another test with Norm and Jake, who also felt like quizzing you about everything you had been studying.

"Y/n you are doing so good, I think that you should be able to go out on your own without supervision and being monitored." Norm said.

"Really?" You asked with a smile.

"Yeah, you've shown great progress with your body and your learning." He said.

"You know what that means kid, you can finally come to the village!" Jake said with a huge smile.

Today was the day you were finally able to come into the village, you had told Jake that you would meet him there feeling comfortable enough to walk there with the communication device he gave you. You were walking around admiring the beautiful scenery around you, with a smile not paying attention until went face-first into the ground making you groan.

Tsu'tey was doing his usual border patrols for unwanted guests when he heard the sound of a female voice, making him even more alert as he went to find the source of the sound.

"Ow!" You said sitting up and touching your ankle.

Tsu'tey stopped when he found the girl sitting on the ground, the more he analyzed her the more he saw that she wasn't true Na'vi but instead of Dreamwalker which made him even more alert.

"Easy kill." Tsu'tey thought lining his arrow up preparing to kill you.

You were looking to see where my communication device went, when I looked up and saw Na'vi with their arrow pointed at me.

"Demon! What are you doing here?" He asked harshly.

"Please don't kill me! I'm a friend of Jake's." You said to him with my hands held up to show that you meant no harm.

Tsu'tey looked at the woman before him and took notice of her unarmed self meaning she couldn't possibly pose a threat, but still, he wondered what kind of friend she was to Jake.

"What kind of friend?" He asked you.

"The good kind, he invited me here to possibly take over Dr. Augstine's old school and become a teacher." You said as he lowered his bow.

"I will take you camp where Jake will verify if what you say is true and if not I won't hesitate to kill, do you understand?"  He said harshly.

"Yes." You said to him as he offered you a hand.

You grabbed your stuff and took his hand and tried to stand up only when you put pressure on your foot, you were met with an intense amount of pain, making you hiss as he looked at you confused.

"Are you hurt?" He asked concerned.

"Yes, I think when I fell earlier I twisted my ankle, and it hurts to put any pressure on it." You said looking at him.

"Let me call my pa'li, and we can ride back to camp, that way you don't injure yourself more." He said to you as he called his pa'li over.

"Your pa'li is beautiful."You said to him as he helped up onto it.

He looked almost shocked that you knew that and how good your Na'vi sounded for a dream walker. They rode back to camp not really speaking, and you took notice of how everyone started gathering around them making your anxiety spike as he helped you down of his pa'li and carried me to the healer's tent to get looked at.

"No way, you got hurt on your first time here." Jake said with a laugh as he walked into the tent.

"Shut up I was distracted by the scenery and tripped." You said as the shaman worked on your ankle.

"I know it's beautiful, isn't it? But I'm glad you're here." He said hugging you.

"Jake Sully, you know this woman?" Tsu'tey said interrupting your moment with Jake.

"Yes I do, this is y/n. She is the one I've been talking about coming and taking over the school. Did something happen?" He asked looking between you and Tsu'tey.

"He tried to kill me and then threaten to kill me if he found out I was lying." You said to Jake.

"Yeah, he's kinda intense. Tsu'tey this is my fault, I should've gone and got her, but believe me she is an ally to us." He said as Tsu'tey nodded his head.

"Forgive me for my actions, I hope you can understand the worry and need of concern after what has happened to my people." He said to you.

"It's alright I understand. Thank you for your help today." You said to him.

"Alright, my dear, you have a sprained ankle. I believe you will heal up just fine, as long as you stay off of it for the next few days. I will come by your hut tonight with some medicine to help with the pain." She said.

"Thank you shaman." You said to her before she left.

"Hut? What did she mean by hut?" You asked them after she left.

"It means we had a hut prepared for you once I told the clan about you agreeing to come here and help them." Jake said.

"Come, we will show it to you." Tsu'tey said gently picking you up in his arms shocking both you and Jake.

You guys walked a little bit until you reached this beautiful hut that was clearly crafted with so much time and detail. You guys gently walked in where Tsu'tey gently placed you on your bed while propping your hurt ankle up.

"Thank you." You said as he nodded his head.

"So what do you think?" Jake asked placing your bag on the table.

"It looks amazing, whoever built this clearly has an eye for detail and the craftsmanship is so lovely." You said running your hand across the table.

Tsu'tey smiled at your praise, he was the one who had been tasked with building your home and wanted to make your stay here in the clan enjoyable so he made sure it was built to the most perfection.

"We should let her get some rest, we will be back in the morning to check on you." Jake said.

"Thank you both for all your help." You said to them.

You fell asleep thinking about what life was going to be like in the clan especially with Tsu'tey hanging around, you had to admit that he had scared you when you first laid eyes on him but now you had to admit that he was growing on you.

Tsu'tey made his way into his own home that night still trying to process the events of the day, especially running into you. He had to admit that you were beautiful and seemed very intelligent for a dream walker he couldn't wait to learn more about you.

#tsu'tey #tsu'tey x fem reader #tsu'tey x reader #tsu'tey avatar #tsu'tey x you #tsu'tey x y/n #tsu’tey fanfic #avatar x reader #avatar tsutey

[foggyfanfic]

Camilo Analysis

Bruh, who even is Camilo? He is arguably the Madrigal we get the least real characterization for, other than Teenage Boy, which is a very broad category of person. So as per usual, it helps me to get my thoughts in order if I write this stuff down.

First, Mirabel introduces Camilo through song and we right of way see him shapeshift into a young mother so he can sooth her baby while she takes a nap. That's actually a really great way to imply several things about his character (oh my god guys, this movie is so well written).

Thoughtful enough to offer a new mom a chance to rest

Comfortable caring for infants (probs helped care for Antonio?)

More patient than I would have thought, because taking care of a baby while the mother rests is not a quick and easy favor

Sort of implies that he likes kids

Then Mirabel sings he "won't stop until he makes you smile today" while he turns into multiple people and doing goofy stuff. Everybody already knows he's an entertainer at heart but I gotta add it to the list anyways.

5. Likes making people laugh

6. Plays around with his gift a lot

Moving on to Antonio's party, he's the guy greeting all the villagers by name, and he changes his energy to match each person.

7. Knows a lot of the villagers

8. Charming and personable

9. Respects his elders (kisses the old woman on the cheek)

He jokes around with Antonio, probably in an attempt to soothe his nerves, and teases his Pa. This reinforces points one, four, five and six. If this was a different list, I would talk about what it means that Camilo is clearly comfortable teasing his father, despite the seemingly stern reaction Félix has, but I digress.

He stands with Julieta while Antonio and Mirabel walk to the door, giving birth to a lot headcanons about them being especially close, and I'm going to roll with it.

10. Of his siblings, he's closest to Julieta.

Then he's very excited for Antonio as he discovers his room, it's actually the happiest we see him in the movie (other than perhaps when he's dancing in We Don't Talk About Bruno). So:

11. Supportive? Or maybe just enjoys seeing other people happy?

Plot happens, fast forward to breakfast when he pretends to be Dolores so he can get double the food. Then teases Isabela about Mariano, something he does a lot in the movie.

12. Likes food.

13. In his Little Shit era

Fast forward some more, all the way to We Don't Talk About Bruno. He absolutely kills it, and clearly enjoys the whole production. If you're like me and you headcanon that the musical numbers happen in universe then we can conclude:

13.5. Fucking loves living in a musical

And if you headcanon they don't:

14. Enjoys telling stories.

15. Probably hasn't thought through the consequences of telling everybody his Tío is a seven foot tall boogy man that feasts on screams. Which is very normal for a fifteen year old boy.

Teases Isabela about Mariano again. More plot happens. Time For Dinner. Dolores gossips to him as soon as she can, then he immediately gossips to his Pá. When Félix accidentally spits his drink onto Mariano, Camilo has to hold in a laugh. It's possible he doesn't really like Mariano, he keeps making jokes about the guy, at the very least he doesn't take him seriously. I wonder if he's the sort of guy that prefers to hang out with women?

16. Close to his sister.

17. Close to his father.

18. Shapeshifts reflexively/accidentally.

More plot. We see him try to soothe his mother.

19. Takes care of his Má. Pepa is literally unable to hide her emotions, so it would make sense that, through no real fault of her own, the kids slowly learn to take care of her as they grow up. The squeaky wheel gets the grease and all. On the flip side, the fact that sun beams come out whenever they get home from school or learn a new skill probs means the kids can never doubt that Pepa loves them. Plus, she likely has the easiest time transitioning from a parent-child relationship to a parent-adult offspring relationship of all the adults. So Camilo might be growing closer to his Má as he gets closer to adulthood.

The longer the plot goes on the less we see him. He's clearly frustrated with his gift glitching on him, but that doesn't really tell me much. It's a situation that would frustrate anyone and they don't show us how he handles those negative emotions. They also don't show us how he handles hearing the end of Mirabel's and Abuela's argument. Rude. They do show us him leaping to the candle's aid while the house crashes down around him so clearly:

20. Sees the Miracle as more important than his own safety.

The house falls, the candle goes out, in the background we hear him first remark on his gift being gone, then wonder how this will effect his little brother. We already know he enjoys using his gift, I can theorize he's made Being a Shapeshifter an important part of his identity, but all we have that's concrete is:

21: He doesn't just enjoy his gift, it is important to him.

22. Empathetic.

Mirabel runs off, resolution happens, Mirabel comes back. He is the one who cuts through the reunion to point out their house is gone, and even gets a little exasperated when he catches a bit of flack from Félix.

23. Not an optimist. Might be a pessimist, but most likely just not particularly sentimental.

For the rest of the scene he exists in a state of confusion. The hits start coming and they don't stop coming. Apparently Tío Bruno is just suddenly back now? And it kind of seems like half the family isn't surprised or asking any questions?! There's not a lot of conclusions I can draw from him being shocked and confused that Bruno just sort of appeared out of nowhere, I think most people would be. And unlike the parents or the older cousins, he doesn't have enough memories from when Bruno was around to be swept up in the joy of seeing him again. His reaction is relatable and endearing, but not very revealing.

The last character moment we get is when he tries to twirl the shovel around all fancy, almost drops it, then checks to make sure Mirabel wasn't watching. It reinforces things already mentioned, like him being showy, and wanting to entertain those around him, but also:

24. Wants to be seen as cool. Another very normal trait for a teenage boy.

It is interesting that the first person he looks at is Mirabel, I can't help but wonder if that would have been the case at the beginning of the movie. There's room for interpretation there, but regardless, by the end of the movie:

25. Respects Mirabel's opinion.

#encanto #camilo madrigal #character analysis #camilo encanto #foggy rambles

[sofasoap]

Mending Heart

Pairing : Din Djarin x f!reader. featuring Grogu, Paz Vizsla + OC.

Summary:  sequel  to heartbreak and Wrenching heart. Din is a big di’kut. His ad’ika to the rescue.

Slightly AU-ish, Din didn’t get N1 after Razor Crest got blown up.he got something similar. And his relationship with Paz isn’t that bad. He is still trying to redeem himself but didn’t get kicked out of the covert completely. Mummy Armorer is still pissed off at him though. 

Warning: Mature theme. strong languages. Alcohol use. 

English isn’t my first language, so I apologise for any mistakes. 

A/N : I seem to be writing all the Din fic for the University students at the moment to push them on ( Trust me, I know your pain. been there done that)   @groguspicklejar and @deakyjoe this is for both of you.

MASTERLIST

I am happy, I am back with Armour buir.

But where is Singing buir?

“She’s not here anymore, ad’ika.”

Why do you look so sad, armour buir? Armour buir isn’t happy anymore, I can feel it in the force.

There’s singing buir! We found her! She is happy to see me! But why isn’t she happy to see Armour buir? She is sad too.

Why are you crying Armour buir?

“I messed up, ad’ika. I really messed up.”

“You are a di’kut.” “ I know.” “ The biggest di’kut out there.” “ You don’t need to repeat that.” “Utreekov.” Din sighed. Sitting back to back with Paz, he Lift his helmet up slightly, downing another shot of spotchka. Trying to drown himself in alcohol and sorrow. Paz turn towards Grogu, “Gar buir kaysh mirsh solus” ( your father is an idiot ) “ Coo??” “ Can you not teach my ad’ika weird words.” “ He needs to learn some Mando’a you know.” Paz grab the cups, pour both another serving of spotchka. “Did you present her with a courting gift?” “.. I did, with my signet on it too.” “Hmm. Then I don’t know where you went wrong then.” “ Did you explain to her what it means?” Paz’s riduur chimed in as she put a plate of fruit and dried meat down for the men to snack on. “......NO.” “ I swear you Mandalorians always assume everyone should know all the hidden meanings behind the actions.” She sighed. Turning to Din, “You know Paz chuck me a knife the day after he saved the village, hover around me for days, expecting me to say something to him.”  she rolled her eyes. Din remembered. Paz kept sneaking out to the village, and when the Armorer ask him what he is doing, all he replied was, “Just to see everyone is alright at the village, I have to make sure the security is up to date.” 

His vod was so love struck by the woman who fought valiantly to protect her village, he didn’t even care she is a non-Mandalorian, he dug through his family weapon cache and gifted her a sacred heirloom. Pass down only from Father to son. It’s not until his now-riduur went up to him and push the knife back into his hand, “ I don’t need another knife, I have plenty in store, we got a stash full of weapons in the armoury here, Mandalorian. Keep this for your covert.” Only then did Paz realise his mistake in approach. 

He remembered laughing at Paz, from the great Vizsla clan,  who could have ANY Mandalorian, hell, there was no lack of warriors trying to throw themselves at him, he went for a non-Mandalorian. The chaos that ensued after that. How the tide turned. 

“ I am a di’kut.” Din groaned. “ I did tell you.” “Shush Cyare. Stop making fun of your Vod.” Sitting down by Paz, she consoled Din, “ Look, you can still redeem yourself…” “ I feel like I am redeeming myself a lot lately. This is probably going to be more impossible than finding living water on Mandalore.” “ As non-Mandalorian.. I can suggest gifting her more… conventional gifts? Flowers… sweets.. What does she like?” Din look at Grogu,  what do YOU like? Oh dear.

“Patu!” Turning your head as you heard the sound, narrowing avoiding the sharp edges of the wingspan of the ship you are fixing. Peli has been commenting on how you are really not concentrating lately. Connecting the heat exhaust vent to the life support system,  putting the fuel intermix back to front. You are embarrassed. You pride yourself in quality jobs, and here you are, mind wandering over the places. Giving back the vibroblade back to Mando was your own way of cutting the tie with him completely.  Forget about him. Moving on. He doesn’t care about you. You convinced yourself. Yet. You find yourself thinking of him even more. No. You just miss the little green pea. “ Patu patu!!” Now you feel a little hand smacking your thigh. Looking down, Grogu was there by your feet, trying to get your attention. “What are you doing here?!!” you shuffled out from under the wing, picking him up, he extended his two little arms, and presented to you dried flower in his tiny claw-hand. “ Aww, thank you little pea, is that for me?” You look around the hanger nervously, Grogu is here, does that mean Mando is here too?? Makers, that is the last thing you want. You spotted Boba Fett standing by the hanger door. What is the Daimyo here?? “Greetings Daimyo, what can I do for you today? Do you require me to fix one of your transporters ....” “ Relax, please, just call me Boba Fett. No need to be so formal. I am babysitting the little green thing here for the day. He insisted on coming here and giving you the flower.” You let out a breath of sigh. At least Mando isn’t here. The way Boba Fett is looking at you, you feel like there is something else he isn’t letting on.  Few weeks later, Grogu is back again, this time with a little colourful stone in his hand. Fennec is with him. With amusement written all over her face. Next was some hard-boiled sweets. The time after that was a bottle of perfume from Pasaana. A scarf from Coruscant. Cloud puffs from Bespin. 

Wasaka berry from Khashyyyk.

Five-blossom bread from Naboo. Your favourite pastry from your younger days. Now you are getting more and more suspicious about the gifts. The little Pea definitely didn’t choose them. Deep down you know who was instructing him to bring the gifts. Coward. You thought. Getting his son to do the job for him. “We got a secret admirer here?” Peli teases you. “You mean either the Daimyo or Fennec? I doubt it.” You rolled your eyes. The gift just keeps coming. Always Grogu bring them, accompanied by either Boba or Fennec. Until that night. Peli has gone out again, to one of her dates. “Zeltrons,” she commented, “ great drinking companions, they hardly get drunk with their second liver!”

You decided to take advantage with a bit of solo time, dragging one of the crates to the centre of the hanger, enjoying the beautiful light of the three moons with a glass of light liquor you save up for occasions. Hearing the slight clunk sound of metal door opening, you assume Peli was back from her outing, you made a comment without turning around, “Your date didn’t go as planned, Peli?” You were met with the sound of heavy boots coming towards you. That’s not Peli, alarm bells ringing in your brain. Why didn’t the security droid alert me? Out of habit, your hand went to your belt, grabbing the vibroblade, only to realise, you returned it to its original owner. Worse of all, you left your blaster in your bunk. 

Slowly turning around to face whoever the intruder was,  you saw something shiny reflecting under the moonlight. It’s Din. He strides towards you, only stopping about arm length distance away. You always admire the confidence he exuded when he walked towards his bounty, his prey. His helm tilting down slightly, looking straight at you. Suddenly that confidence he was showing disappeared a little. You swallowed hard. Why is he here? 

He spoke first. “... .You got all the presents?” “Yes.” So your guess was right. It was from HIM. Fidgeting your hand, you wait for him to say more. Instead, he reaches around to the back of his belt, and brings something forward to present to you. 

The vibroblade. The same one he gifted to you before. “I… In… In Mandalorian culture,” You can hear the wavering in his voice with the slight distortion through the modulator. “ We.. gift a weapon, with our clan signet on it.. To.. um… someone we intended to court..” He was shifting a bit on his feet. “ I.. I am sorry I didn’t explain it to you the first time I gave it to you.” You can tell he was getting nervous. “I came to apologise and.." he was practically begging by this point, “ Please forgive me. I have been a di’kut.. An idiot for pushing you away. I was only thinking for myself.. I didn’t realise you were just as equally as hurt after losing Grogu..”  “Please come back.. We miss your presence…. I MISS YOU…” You reach towards his helmet, he flinches and moves back a bit with instinct. Pausing a bit, silently letting him know you have no intention of removing his helmet, he shifts towards you a little bit more. Pulling him down, you rest your forehead against his helmet. You hear a gasp was too soft to be picked up by the modulator.  Din wonders if you know the significance of the action. “You are the biggest, most idiotic, most frustrating Mandalorian I ever dealt with, Din Djarin.” Din’s knee nearly gave out upon hearing you using his real name for the first time. “ I convinced myself to forget about you, but how can I forget our time as a family? As a clan of three? You were too good to us, Din….” Tears were slowly falling down your cheek.

“ I realise you care about us in your own way, but you really need to tell me what is going on in that beskar brain of yours.. I can’t guess what you are thinking all the time.” You were sobbing by now. Din moves one of his gloved hands towards your face, wiping away the tears. “You were ignoring me, not telling me what your problem was, I was so hurt. I thought we had something going on between us, yet you keep pushing me away, I don’t feel wanted anymore, just like my family.  Throw me away when I was no use to them.” Din’s heart tightened. This is the first time you let out any details of your former life.

“Yet, you wouldn’t let me go.” sucking in a deep breath, you continue pouring your heart out. “ I am not an object Din, you can’t trap me with you without giving me one good damn reason. So I ran. I ran as far as I could. But you still found me.” “ By pure chance.” he softly added. “ By pure chance. From that point I was actually believing the Force was leading us together. I wasn’t planning to stay here this long.” “But I didn't want to get hurt again. I want to cut my ties with you once for all.” “ That is why you gave me the vibroblade back.” Din replied with saddness in his voice. “ I didn’t know the significance of the gift. Though, even if I did, I would still have given it back. For what you have done.” Din looked down to the ground with shame. 

You sighed.  Pulling away from him, you push his hand with vibroblade back towards him. 

His heart dropped. 

“I am going to ask you again, do you miss me only because you have Grogu back and you need a maid to look after him again? To have someone fix your ship, clean up after you two, and throw me away again when I am not needed anymore?” You growled. “NO! It’s not like that Mesh’la… I..” He stepped forward and blurted out.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” 

Your eyes widened. You vaguely remember the meaning of the sentence from your studies.

“I will know you forever..” You whispered. Din’s head whipped up, shocked. “ you…. “ “Yes Din, I know what it means.” you reach out to his hand and take the vibroblade from him. “ I can’t leave yet , Din. There’s too much work going on for Peli to deal with on her own. Come and pick me u in a few months. In the meanwhile. I will keep this gift of yours.”

Din pulls you into a tight hug. You bury your face in his hard beskar breastplate. It’s a start. You’ll see how this goes. You are allow yourself to hope again. 

If in doubt, use Grogu. He will melt anyone’s heart. Din was trying his luck with whatever he could find, hoping to hit the mark with one of the presents. Reader has been hurt so deeply, she needed a lot of reassurance from Din before she accepted his love. I can’t believe i am saying this.. I might write a bloody part 4. Gosh. 

If i feel like it...I might write about Paz and his riduur’s comedic courtship sometime. 

Thank you so much for reading, any likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! 😀

Tag list:

@frogtits1, @READINGFAN, @memester-png @jake-g-lockley @novaethecosplayer @foxgirl95

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #grogu #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you

[thewritingmagician2022]

HELLO IM INLOVE W THE HCS (ngl hitting sol rn meanie boi),,, if its not much can I request a chp.2 of them finding out mc is infact disabled and they're not just clumsy,,, i love your writing more each day,, (you can ignore it if you want 👀👀👀)

Aw, I’m so glad to hear that! I lowkey love this request simply because I’m a chronically ill/disabled person now (still so weird/new to admit) and it’s so nice to see it being represented in media. I hope you enjoy this second part just as much.

Barbatos: Barbatos is out of his element for once. He doesn’t know much about human ailments, certainly not to this extent. He can handle injuries and sickness but disabilities? That’s rather new. He’s going to be full of questions and eager to learn what you require most from those around you to get the support you need. He’ll be going to Diavolo with this information and trying to make sure they’re able to offer you and everything you could ever want or need in regards to your disability. Treatment, medication, mobility aids, better accessibility around the Devildom, whatever. In fact, they’ll probably drag you in as a resource to help them restructure the medical aspect of the Devildom so they can better support any living being who may struggle like you do. You’re sort of their inspiration - you never let this bring you down or stop you, and you’re just the best example of a human they could have asked for.

Solomon: He knew it; there was no way that you were just so uncoordinated without a reason. That doesn’t mean he’s happy about being right though. It's a sharp reminder of how fragile humans naturally are and the many things that can plague them; he doesn’t miss that and he hates that it’s something you still have to deal with. Or is it? Solomon is convinced that he can fix this for you. He’s traveled the world, the realms, for thousands of years. He has more knowledge than just about any living creature and he’s determined to use that knowledge and experience to make things better for you. Natural remedies, technology, magic; whatever you will let him use, he will try. However, if you’re resistant to those things and want to continue living the way you do, he won’t push you. As a human, he can understand that sometimes our weaknesses are just such an inherent part of us that we couldn’t imagine life without them even if it would make our lives “better”. He’s happy to keep using the bouncing charm on you and keep his arms around you like he’s been doing.

Simeon: Oh no, that was one of Simeon’s biggest fears. He hates that idea that you’re suffering or struggling and that it’s a permanent thing for you to deal with. It’s just not fair that someone as great as you has to deal with this but he also admires how gracefully you handle it, pun not intended. He doesn’t want to be condescending or smother you so you won’t do much more than ask questions about your condition and learn everything he can to be as helpful as possible. He’s still going to do his best to keep you safe and, if there’s any treatment or medication or modalities that can help you, he’s going to make sure you have access to them and utilize them so you’re as happy and safe as possible. He certainly doesn’t mind watching over you either; he loves being able to support and care for you.

#obey me #obey me imagines #obey me asks #obey me headcanons #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Oikawa YN:

Manager of Team Japan

Team Japan featuring Oikawa x Oikawa YN (fem! Reader)

Warnings: Swearing, Oikawa and Atsumu in the same fic again

A/N: This is a request from @korrynn-nadine!

I see not one way this could go bad 😅

Even writing that I'm laughing, failing to convince myself that managing Team Japan AND being an Oikawa is a good idea

But at least you're a well liked Oikawa

You are so pretty YN 🥺

Seriously Iwaizumi is like 100% sure you were adopted because there was just no way NO WAY

When you first learned of the position as Team Japan's Manager, you honestly thought it would be a great gig

You knew alot about volleyball and you knew several of the players

Including our residential hotty Iwaizumi Hajime, 27, Athletic Trainer 🥵

Who you probably, more than likely definitely had a crush on 😏

Anyways, you didn't tell anyone you applied for the job

Because like if you didn't get it, there honestly wasn't any hurt feelings

But since Kuroo Tetsuro was put in charge of hiring the manager (let's just pretend he was ok don't come for me), he saw your name and thought

"What fun" -Kuroo 😈

You see Oikawa had quite the reputation in Japan and around the world

Not necessarily a GOOD reputation but he definitely did have one

Kuroo knew Ushijima, Kageyama and subsequently Iwaizumi were looking forward to crushing Argentina and therefore our bby boy Oikawa

So how fun would it be to have Oikawa's baby sister as manager 😃

God he's a brilliant man everyone, round of applause 👏🏻

Needless to say, you were so excited you got the job that you told Makki and Mattsun

You were going out to dinner with them when you broke the news

"Guess whose the new manager for Team Japan??" You said, beaming

Makki and Mattsin rn 👉🏻🤨🤨 who?

"Me, it's me"- you 😐

"Team Japan's what YN?"- Makki said

You just rolled your eyes because honestly boys 🙄

"Volleyball silly"- you

"Women's right" Mattsun said 😳

"Nope! Mens!"- You say as Makki spits his drink across the table and nearly chokes

"Oh my god YN you have to record Toru's reaction when you tell him!"- Mattsun said laughing so hard he almost fell on the floor

You rn 👉🏻😐

"Where'd the hidden camera's YN because this has to be a joke"- Makki, literally dying

Even telling your bestie Kyotani didn't go like you expected

"The men's OLYMPIC Volleyball team YN?"- Kentaro asks you

You RN 👉🏻 seriously why does everyone keep asking that 😐

Nevertheless, we have a job to do YN and there is only one person who can do it

That's right, you, Oikawa YN

You walked into the gym on your very first day so excited

Bby please I'm so excited FOR you 🥰

The guys all knew they were getting a manager and they were SO EXCITED

Bokuto, Hinata and Atsumu... mainly those three 🙄

so you walk into the gym and all eyes go to you

Kuroo is standing there too because why the fuck not 😅

Iwaizumi rn 👉🏻🤨 YN what are you doing here?

Kageyama and Ushijima 👉🏻 😐😐

Bokuto and Hinata 👉🏻🤪 🤸‍♂️

"Hi Haji!" You say waving "oh hi Tetsuro! I didn't know you'd be here today"

Iwaizumi is now looking between you and Kuroo like 😐😑

"Kuroo...."- Iwa getting a volleyball ready to throw

"Yes Iwaizumi"- Kuroo 😇

"Why the FUCK is YN here?"- Iwa 😠

Luckily for Kuroo, you save him from answering

"I'm the new manager Haji!! Isn't that great?!" You say so freaking excitedly

Please you are so happy and jumping with joy YN

The boys rn 👉🏻 😐😳 Iwaizumi istg if you don't say it's great...

"You do know who this is right?"- Iwa

"I'm YN silly"- you completely oblivious

"Yeah silly, she YN and she's hot"- Atsumu 😍

"Shes also an Oikawa"- Kageyama 😑

"You don't like me Tobio?"- You rn 🥺

"KAGEYAMA ISTG IF YOU MAKE HER CRY"- literally all of Team Japan rn

They all instantly love you 🥰

"YN, don't you think your brother is going to have a problem with you being our manager?"- Iwaizumi says

"I mean, who cares. Since when have I ever listened to Toru"- you

Straight fax not printer 💯

Iwaizumi 👉🏻🤔 you right

Thus begins the journey of our precious YN-chan

The boys instantly love you

Literally Hinata and Bokuto FEED off your praise

Everytime you compliment them, they legit get so cocky it's unreal

"Did you hear what YN said crappy-yama?"- Hinata 🤪

"You're receiving is still sloppy. Have you learned nothing"- Kageyama

Que the fighting 🙄

Mentally they are still in high-school and you can't convince me otherwise

Good think YN is great at talking people down

Seriously it's like a skill your proficient at especially having Toru as a brother

The sheer number of times you kept Iwa from killing him YN ☺️

Toru owes you his life honestly

Even Kageyama and Ushijima start to warm up to you

"Tobio that dump was SO COOL! Literally I had no idea it was even coming"- you 🤩

Kageyama 👉🏻😐😳😊 ah well-

"Wakatoshi oh my god I felt that spike shake the whole gym! I can't believe how strong you are!"- You 😍

Ushijima 👉🏻😐😊

Please Ushijima gives you headpats

You've officially been accepted YN 🥺

Now your relationship with Atsumu is basically the exact same as your relationship with Toru

Literally it's like being back at Seijoh again 🙄

"YN did you see that set??"- Atsumu

"Yes Sumi, perfect as always"- you 😐

"It was a tiny bit low but thankfully I'm so proficient you probably didn't even notice"- Atsumu 💅🏼

Please everyone knows Iwaizumi throws just as many balls at Atsumu as he did Oikawa

And YN is there with her concussion protocol sheet handy

And to remind Iwaizumi that Team Japan needs Atsumu to beat the other Oikawa

Honestly Team Japan is like a dream and you adore your boys

So why haven't you told Toru that you manage the team yet YN 🤔

Sounds like you might be putting it off 🙃

Not sure why you'd ever do that but you do

"Haji, please don't tell Toru I manage Team Japan yet ok?"- You begging your husband boyfriend bestie

Iwaizumi rn 👉🏻🤨 why....

"I don't want drama Hajime and wr all know Toru will drop everything to come here if I tell him"- You

Iwaizumi crosses his big strong arms across his buff ass chest

You rn 👉🏻😳🥵

"So you just plan to tell him at the Olympics YN?"- Iwaizumi

"Well I may or may not plan to tell him depending on the situation"- you 😬

Iwaizumi just shakes his head and laughs

He tells Mattsun and Makki (also Kindaichi and Kunimi) to get the cameras ready 🤣

So we finally make it 🙌🏻

The Summer Olympics 🏐🏅

You are excited and nervous

You managed to keep your secret for so long and now it's finally going to have to come out

You have carefully planned this moment YN

Down the the last detail 👏🏻

You are going to walk up to Toru in your team Japan jacket and just tell him

He definitely won't cause a scene at such a huge event like the Olympics right?

Totally right 🙃

You jump up and down, preparing yourself a little for the confrontation

"Toru, I'm team Japan's Manager and there is nothing you can do about it"- you say to yourself

"You got this YN!"- You, mentally

It's a good thing you don't have a needy team YN because that would make this lile 1000 times worse

Oh wait....

"YN HELP"- Hinata screams as you turn to see him

"Shoyo what's wrong-" "WE LOST BOKUTO" -Hinata screams

😐😐😐

Ok nothing to worry about...

When all of a sudden, I hear this agitating grading voice

"YN- what the hell..." your eyes widen as you turn to see your brother standing in his Argentinian jersey

when he looks at me 😐 and I look at him 👀 and he looks at me 😑 AND I LOOK AT HIM 😗🎶

"Uhhhh-" you 😰

"YN BOKUTO IS MISSING"- Atsumu screams from behind you

"YN"- Toru 😑

"YN- oh hi Oikawa" Iwaizumi 🙃

You rn 👉🏻 fml 🤦‍♀️

"YN- Oikawa " - 😡 Kageyama followed by Ushijima

This has to be some cruel joke from the universe istg-

Please Mattsun, Makki, Kunimi and Kindaichi have all appeared by now and have the devices recording 📱

Suna joined them

You 👉🏻🙄 ok ENOUGH!

"Sho, Sumu have you tried calling for him?"- You say as everyone stares at you

Hinata and Atsumu 👉🏻.... no....

You 👉🏻 ffs I have to do everything around her

"HEY HEY-"

"H E Y"- you hear Bokuto belf out as he makes his way through the crowd

You turn to see Toru now burning with fury

You cross your arms and glare at him

"Toru I'm managing Team Japan and there's nothing you can do about it"- you

Iwaizumi, Ushijima, Kageyama 👉🏻👀👀👀

Mattsun, Makki, Kunimi, Kindaichi, Suna 👉🏻🍿🧎‍♂️ 📱

Hinata and Atsumu 👉🏻🤨🤨

Bokuto 👉🏻 lost again 🙄

"I can't believe my sister would betray her own flesh and blood like this!"- Toru says in his dramatic ass tone

You 👉🏻😐🙄 I don't have time for this

"Alright boys come on, we have a match"- you say turning and walking ad the entire team follows you like little ducks in a row

"OIKAWA YN DONT YOU WALK AWAY FROM ME"- Toru screams

"Try and stop me"- you 🖕🏻

"You want me to hit him Yn"- Iwaizumi

"No let him be dramatic"- you say, grabbing the teams gear and heading to the gym

After your first game, you prepare to leave when you are stopped by the brick house that is your brother

"YN why didn't you tell me?"- Toru

"Because I knew you'd be this way Toru and I'm happy! So please don't ruin this"- you say, begging at this point

"YN I'd never ruin your happiness"- Toru, shocked and appalled ag your statement

You 👉🏻 🤨 I can't even count the number of times Toru

"I'm upset YN but i wish you would have told me sooner. As long as your happy YN"- Toru says

You 👉🏻😳🥺 really

Please hug him YN 🫂

"Also ypu can't date any of them"- Toru says as he kisses the top of your head

"Oh don't worry Toru, I only like Suna and Iwaizumi anyways"- you

"YN WHAT THE HELL"- Atsumu shouts 😱

Suna and Iwaizumi rn 👉🏻😏 😏

Please YN you've already created enough chaos for today 🥰

#haikyuu!! #haikyu! #haikyū!! #haikyu x female reader #x female reader #female reader #team japan x reader #hq team japan #team japan x female manager #team japan haikyuu #team japan #oikawa toru #iwaizumi hajime #aran ojiro #ushijima wakatoshi #kageyama tobio #atsumu miya #hinata shoyo #bokuto kotaro #kuroo tetsuro #sakusa kyoomi #hoshiumi korai #hakuba gao #suna rintarou #hyakuzawa yuudai #yaku morisuke #komori motoya #haikyu x you #haikyu x y/n #haikyu x reader