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cuntycassandra · 3 years ago

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Breaking down Hunter and Omega’s relationship. Pt 2.

We’re back at it, here with the second post in this father-daughter-space-duo series! You guys responded to the first post better then I expected in all honesty! I didn’t think my insights were viewed as so important lmao. I don’t really think much introduction is needed here, the post itself is very self explanatory.

(Pasted paragraph: I would just like to add a disclaimer here. I am, in no way whatsoever, slating the other batchers for having differing relationships with Omega. I absolutely adore everything single one of the boys, and I think they all have wonderful and unique interrelations with her. Although I may point out these different approaches in comparison to Hunter’s, I am not stating these engages are wrong, just different is all!

I’m going to separate this into a little series- covering each episode in a separate post, which I’ll have tagged as the series progresses. Once I’ve tackled these two, as they’re my favourites, I’m going to move on to each individual Batcher and perhaps a few other dynamics such and Hunter and Crosshair, or Wrecker and Omega! Let me know what you guys would like to see!)

(Thank you to this weeks proof-reader: @treasureofmy-heart 💛)

Cut and Run: S1/E2

We kick off this episode with Hunter walking in on Echo inspecting Omega and Wrecker fast asleep on the floor. His face is very relaxed and he clearly finds it very sweet that her childlike curiosity has tired her out. His line, “ha, well this is a first,” while holding a strong gaze in Omega’s direction, suggests that she’s been exploring for quite some time, unleashing her endearing juvenile inquisition in the batchers presence. Hunter continues to claim she’s curious, using the same lighthearted tone he has always used in her regard, sparing the conversation in the medical wing on Kamino. This continues to confirm his gentle approach and concern towards the young clone.

When Echo confronts him over the situation at hand, it’s evident that Hunter hasn’t actually thought about what he’s going to do with Omega, yet by the look of quizzicality on his face. I personally took this as a sign that his initial thoughts were always “we’re going to lay low with her, look after her, while keeping everybody else safe.” It’s clear here that Echo has differing ideas that Hunter hadn’t even began to consider, and I think that’s what perplexes him in this moment. He needs to consider everybody.

The kid is up and awake! (Let the havoc commence aha.) Omega’s reaction to sunlight and dirt is definitely one of my favourite developmental moments of hers, it really sets in place that this little girl may have been an intelligent medical assistant, but she lacks experience, and still needs a guiding hand to help her through this new world she’s never endured before. I’d like to point out that it is, in fact, Hunter who stops to watch Omega’s reactions, and his FACE when she’s playing in the dirt! I’ve never seen such a parental smile on a man so stoic! I feel like I’m repeating myself a lot, but he is so endeared by her! She’s a breath of fresh air in Hunter’s very toxically routined life, and I love that for both of them. When they finally reach Cut’s land, Hunter is the one to pull her back, despite the fact she had to run between Echo and Tech to get to him. And upon Suu and Cut’s arrival, I actually didn’t realise that Omega creeps behind Hunter, most likely because these are strangers she doesn’t know and she feels she needs the protection. This confirms a clear bond between them has already began to flesh out.

There isn’t too much to say about the introduction and inhibitor chip discussion, as Omega spends a decent amount of that time exploring Cut and Suu’s house, but I will just say that it’s a nice touch that she ends up back at Hunter’s side when her part of the conversation is needed, she always seems physically drawn to him. Which brings me to my next point. Upon Shaeeah and Jek’s arrival, Omega once again creeps behind Hunter out of fear, only deciding to approach when formally addressed to do so. *Sigh*, and when Shaeeah pulls Omega out to play, and she halts to ask for Hunter’s permission, which is clearly given through a series of comforting smiles, is a plain indication of a trusted child-parental relationship. I must admit, Hunter’s face is pretty hilarious when everybody practically calls him out on his parental role- it’s just “why are you all staring at me..?” Because you’re acting like a dad, my dude.

Okay! Down to Cut and Hunter’s discussion. It’s a nice touch that Hunter is the first one outside to watch Omega play, swiftly followed by Cut, who, rightfully so, questions her existence. Although instead of explaining Omega’s origin (and by that I just mean that she’s a medical assistant clone from Kamino), he states that it doesn’t matter what the Kaminoans created her for, because she’s with them now, and to be with them she doesn’t need a purpose, she’s just a kid and should be allowed to act like one. Cut goes ahead to tease him over the ins and outs of raising a child, but to Hunter it was a no-brainer, Kamino wasn’t safe, so she was coming with them, as I’ve said previously, he saw NO negotiations. And as Cut says, “I (you) have to do what’s best for them.” This adds sentiment to the narrative of Hunter’s commanding role within the squad and Omega specifically.

So I’m shifting ahead slightly to the ball incident, and I have a LOT to say about this scene. First of all, it’s clearly evident that Hunter is the first to leave the house, along with Cut and Suu following closely behind. Associating this trio together is purposeful on the animators part in my opinion, they intentionally exclusively had Hunter leave with the other parents in the situation, isolating him specifically with that role in Omega’s life. When he finally reaches her, we see the protective hand come straight out to guard her against the Nexu, a typical trait they’ve established between them.

Now we move on to the confrontation. This is the first time Hunter raises his voice at Omega, and immediately she turns herself away from him, curling into her shoulder and making herself small. Omega is going through a lot of emotions right here, she’s afraid, anxious, and she’s being forced to deal with the fact that for the first time, Hunter is mad at her, for something she didn’t even intend to do wrong. Whereas from Hunter’s perspective, he hasn’t acknowledged she’s already in a bit of a state, and instead feels the need to immediately lecture her for her mistakes….although this lasts all but thirty seconds. Upon Cut’s attempts to diffuse the situation by having him pull Hunter away and reiterating that “she’s (Omegas) not a soldier”, his face immediately softens, he forgot for a moment, but now he realises and instantly the features are set in a regretful frown, he clearly feels awful and misrepresented. Hunter continues to observe Cut’s behaviour as he comforts Omega, who seems to take to the attention like a kicked puppy, lip trembling, eyes shaky, shoulders hunched, and I honestly think as Cut carries her away- is the exact moment Hunter realises he isn’t good enough for Omega. (I’ll further out on this in a moment)

I only want to briefly touch upon Omega’s gunners nest scene because I don’t think it has too much impact on her relationship with Hunter, however I would like to address the symbolism. I personally see the removal of her headpiece and the addition of her bangs as a new beginning, attaining the contrasting yellow light of Salucemi in comparison to Kamino, where she would’ve been given her jewel. Considering the episode’s outcome, Omega is no longer the tightly held, quivering little girl from Kamino, and instead she brings a slight unruliness to her aura, a little cheeky, definitely her brother’s sister. Still a sweetheart of course, but with a matter of confidence and boisterous behaviour to her. She seems to bounce out of her sadness quite easily here, as she seems suddenly awkward- yet curious- over Tech’s plan later on.

Furthering out into my previous point about Hunter believing Omega deserved much better in comparison to what he could provide: his conversation with Suu. “Protecting them is what we do.” The realisation on his face when she says this, it’s so…raw, something he’s taking time to comprehend. He heeds her words because he knows she and Cut are experienced in this field, they are better suited for Omega than he and the boys are, he believes he isn’t good enough for her, and this is projected when he insists ‘Mega leave with the family of four. Although Suu questions his sincerity, and he does indeed dodge the straightforward answer, this is what Hunter anticipates is best for Omega. He’s putting her needs above his happiness, no matter the heartache.

Moving along slightly, as Omega and Hunter spend a short period of time away from each other during the ship impoundment, I briefly wanted to touch upon the tone of Hunter’s voice when he learns Omega is on route to their position…by herself in a heavily armed spaceport. His eyes widen in a moment of fear, his voice is suddenly strained, he is struck with another raw emotion, something he frankly can’t obtain right now, and it’s let out in a minor threat towards his brothers- “if something happens to her-“ a clearly indication of worry.

This next point absolutely breaks my heart, the poor dears, both of them. Upon Omega’s arrival, Hunter is left to explain his forced proposal that she should leave Salucemi with Cut and Suu. As usual he completes his little ritual of taking her shoulders and crouching to her level, although this time he can’t quite look her in the eyes, a clear sign of regret and guilt, because he doesn’t want to give her away, he knows deep down she belongs with them, but he doesn’t believe he has what it takes to raise and protect her. The way Omega’s eyes crumple really catches me here, she’s being left, again… All this kid has ever known her entire life has either been abandonment, abuse or isolation, and she’s being passed on to strangers by the only people she’s ever been able to trust, and not only is it clearly breaking her heart, but she’s taking it personally, she thinks she’s at fault, much like Hunter does. Her line: “but, I want to stay with you.” compressed with the quivering tone and her precious accent really aides her desperation here, it conveys her in an adequate and very precise way.

Starting a brief new point to split these up slightly: I bring us to the continuous glances shared between them. Omega consistently looks over her shoulder to Hunter, she doesn’t want her eyes to leave him for one moment, she’s savouring his face, his details, for the very last time. And equally, Hunter is letting go of something he doesn’t want to leave behind, he likes the kid, to the point where his own self depreciation and doubt have been forced ahead in order to protect her, he can’t risk anything at this point. I’d also like to quickly mention how beautifully Omega’s eyes are animated, they intel so much, those precious little doe irises hold such story to them.

Moving on to a little jump cut enduring the batch’s escape and Omega’s return: Hunter’s tone of voice when addressing Wrecker is so pained, and his facials match it perfectly “she’s not com-“ it’s almost as though he’s biting back the urge to sprint headfirst into the gunfire if only to catch up to the little clone before it’s too late.

However, seeing as she’s managed to find her own way back that wouldn’t be exactly necessary. I think it’s a nice point that Hunter is the one to rush to Omega’s aide after she is grabbed by the trooper (flowing a brief flash of concern crossing his face), although Wrecker might’ve been closer, it’s a nice hint to their subtle closer bond. He, once again, crouches to her level although an unnecessary step in the situation, and I see this as another nod to their familiarised dependancy.

Finally, my last point for this episode, is their final conversation within the last few minutes. It’s faint, but the fact that the other batchers are all busying themselves in the cockpit, leaving Omega and Hunter to chat privately, is a very distinct use of separation. It also should be noted that Omega is the one to approach Hunter, this shows a decent level of not only maturity on her part, but trust between them as family, she trusts both him and herself enough to advance on a delicate situation, we even see her hesitate slightly, before pushing forward with a slip of confidence, and that takes a lot of gut from a little kid. She stands her ground, but with compliment. She very much reminds me of Hunter himself in the brig, assertive yet respectful. And speaking of Hunter, his face is just absolutely guilt-ridden when talking to her, because he too made the mistake of attempting to give her away, no matter how much good he thought it would do them both. While Omega is admitting she has a lot to learn in regards to safety and tactility, Hunter is suggesting he has a lot to learn about raising a child and providing the necessary care for her. It’s a brave moment for both of them, to be honest and open, and yet its received extremely well on both ends.

“If this is where you want to be…then this is where you’ll stay.” The admiration in his voice, the admiration in her eyes! They absolutely adore one another, and it melts my heart every time it’s displayed!

I hope you liked my analysis of Hunter and Omega’s relationship in episode two of The Bad Batch! Of course, I’d love to discuss these two with anybody who might be interested, so please feel free to drop me an ask or a DM, and if you’re captivated enough I’d totally recommend looking out for my future posts on the topic!

As always, much love to our ‘Megs and Hunter, thank you for reading! 💛

Part One: Aftermath

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strawberryjamsara · 3 years ago

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Keiji and Sara’s relationship throughout yttd

In which I analyze the found family dynamic between Sara and Keiji then nobody reads it. But jokes aside, I realized back when that anon asked me for my thoughts on Sara that I had enough thoughts on the relationship between these two alone for its own meta so here goes. What Sara and Keiji’s relationship means in the grand scheme of yttd.

ALSO THIS IS NOT SHIPPING SHIPPERS GET THE FUCK AWAY

Sara when she meets Keiji is distrustful of him. And how can she not be? The guy has some creepy bags under his eyes, doesn’t seem to care about the situation, and for no reason is gravitating towards her. And his response when she asks why the hell he keeps putting a random stranger in charge? ��Because you’re cute.” Yeah. I’d stay within 50 feet of this guy too Sara. Especially when he’s not spilling a word about himself.

Alright we might as well get the gross part out of the way. To clear things up. In the Japanese version, the word he uses “Kawai” can be seen as a more fatherly word to use with a kid. But the comments about going on dates from himself and from Shin? Those are still there. And I still think they’re really uncomfortable and wish they weren’t in the game period but we can get thematic significance out of them.

We still don’t know Keijis reasons in game for being attached to Sara. My theory? She’s his handicap. He was told to get close to the higher scorer who could easily backstab him, and he’d be stuck with her. It just kinda makes sense to me. But since that’s just a theory I won’t lean to heavily on it for support. But let’s talk about his comments.

Keiji… well, it’s shown at many points in the game that Keiji just thinks of himself as doomed to be a bad person. It can be seen during his day two negotiations when he calls himself a killer and explains he can’t even trust himself so Sara shouldn’t really bother and more explicitly so is the classroom scene between him and Ranmaru where he says he isn’t fit to protect Sara because of his sins. The flirting is both a way to distract people, and to put distance between himself and Sara. He’s not really “protecting” her.

Okay gross bit nobody wants to talk about is over I promise we won’t talk about it again. Let’s talk about Russian Roulette. In this scene, Keiji once again tries to make Sara the leader with no explanation, but then, Sara yells at him, something he didn’t expect. And through this he actually reveals something huge. The source of his trauma. His shooting. For Keiji to have actually revealed something that big, I think that this is the first moment he began to see Sara past whatever reason he first started making her a leader. This is the beginning of their bond.

This bond gets solidified over chapter 1-2s investigation. Keiji is still putting her in charge because his handicap said to build her up for whatever reason, but they’re able to have chats, and she keeps picking at his armor. He reveals his dark sense of humor to her, and she, suspicious just sort of keeps him at arms length. Also she rides his shoulders to screw in a light and he complains which is funny. The scene post Nao also helps the two of them sharpen investigative skills together, as they discuss the mystery of Miley, and Mishimas head.

Then another significant scene. The white room. I call this scene significant because, instead of letting Sara investigate the gruesome scene of the first trial, Keiji for the first time, allows Sara to walk out. Something that will become relevant later but until then, Keiji has begun to put Sara’s well-being above serving whatever purpose he had by building her up. So keep that in your pocket while we go over the main game.

There’s only two points for the main game I want to cover. While Keiji and Sara do put their heads together a few times, Sara still doesn’t fully trust him, so I will only go over 1. When Shin brings up Kai’s emails. Keiji has been fully logical this whole time, questioning everyone’s alibis including Nao’s who he saw the emotional plea from, but when Sou brings up potentially damning evidence of Sara, he just asks if he read the emails wrong. 2. When Sara is panicking over being chosen for the final round, Keiji loudly shouts “GET A GRIP SARA!” With a serious expression. Before quickly backtracking and going back to a devil may care expression. This shows he is both already emotionally attached to Sara, but unwilling to stake himself towards giving himself to a new cause.

Anyways, he stops her from pressing the button blah blah blah, onto chapter 2! I’ve made a post about this before but it seems as early as here, Keiji is trying to talk Sara down from pushing herself further. But at this point, Sara has already dedicated herself to the role because her best friend died due to her priority to protect everyone. Keiji sees the problem and he tries to get her to rest up, but he still doesn’t spend the time to have a serious talk about it because as he says in the classroom. He isn’t fit to protect her. He doesn’t think of himself as a good person who can help her. He thinks of himself as a murderer and he doesn’t allow himself to recover from the trauma.

Sara however is starting to rely more on Keiji. He’s been willing to comfort her in her times of grief and furthermore, she has something to relate to him on. They both have deaths of important people in their lives they feel responsibility for.

There’s also the fact that Keiji sees a lot of his old self in Sara. An idealistic person, being beaten down, and worrying over the idea they might be becoming a bad person. He feels the same as her.

Not to mention… Keiji follows through on his promises. He actually tells Sara about the person he respected like he said he would which establishes a further sense of trust.

However, something that tears that sense of trust apart is the tokens scene. When Keiji doesn’t even let Sara hold 50 tokens, it raises suspicion. Sara already knows he shot a person- what more could he have to hide? That scares her away. The negotiation event is an attempt for Keiji to win back her trust. But it slowly turns into Keiji’s self-loathing session. And his declaration maybe Sara shouldn’t trust him.

However, time passes enough (and Keiji supports Sara enough in the final attraction) for them to get together and investigate in 2-2. And there’s a lot of moments I can talk about there so I’ll be just doing a few rapidfire things. So first, Sara is in peak weird girl mode and Keiji can hardly control her chaos. Second, Keiji makes a full on decision at one point to go against Sara when she’s putting herself in danger of getting caught for their search so they can hide. Third, his response to “I don’t intend to die” when he asks “will you die with me” is that’s a good answer.

And fourth… a moment I really wanna touch on… Keiji watches something that could easily incriminate Sara. It’s not just some word of mouth thing like with Shin who lied about things several times before this point. But in that moment, he still relies on Sara and says he wouldn’t feel bad betting his life on her. The message is clear. Keiji supports Sara unconditionally.

Now let’s talk about Keiji totally dropping Sara’s ass with the card trades.

The way Keiji makes his trades is very telling. He first, steals a keymaster card from either Sou or Kanna to give to Sara. This is supporting Sara, but it’s doing it in a way that supports his view of himself. That he’s a scumbag who would steal someone’s immunity just to give it to someone he likes more. And would a shithead like that be “worthy” of sacrificing themselves and taking the card for Sara? (And he knew she had it. Qtaro had to tell him for their plan to happen) no. Instead he essentially opts for a revenge plot. A plan to ensnare Shin and kill him for pawning off the sacrifice to Sara. Basically, he wanted to fuck up Shin like how he fucked up Megumi. Nice going Keiji. This is… kind of his low point in the story.

But 3-1….. man this chapter hits in all the right ways. I don’t remember 3A that much, (although I do know that Keiji shows a lot of concern over Sara potentially being triggered by Joe memorabilia) and also if you fail the Keiji Midori fight you can have Sara attempt to tag Keiji and he rejects. And how can we forget… the mr policeman flashback. As Sara says, this is Keiji’s first time opening up on his own.

And then… coffin saga. Sara through everything is not willing to let Keiji die. Although she’s had her ups and downs with him, leaving him to die is inconceivable to her with everything they’ve been through together. So she opts to sign the contract both times she is offered it.

Keiji clearly is somebody important to Sara. Important enough that Ranmaru bringing him up is enough to snap her out of her murderous trance. Enough that she throws logic out the window when she has a sign he’s okay.

Likewise, the scene in the classroom for Keiji is… a huge step. When he’s alone with Ranmaru, who is unstable, in that classroom, his priority is Sara. He turns his back to the threat to hold Sara and try and make sure she’s okay- dumb move, but it shows how far he’s come.

And again, I want to reiterate- Keiji is Sara’s anchor. At the banquet when Sara is about to give up, she imagines Keiji talking to her which brings her back in the game. Much like Joe did back in chapter 2. The message is palpable. Keiji is Sara’s new Joe. And when Keiji comes back to comfort her? He’s now fully willing to sacrifice himself. It winds up not being needed seeing as Qtaro is the one that died. But in that moment, we see Keiji has made a huge leap from chapter 2. He almost sacrificed himself for Gin. And he would’ve used his final moments to comfort Sara. He’s embraced that he’s a father figure. He allows himself to be a good person.

Anyways I don’t know how to conclude this and I’ve been writing for hours. Bababooey.

#your turn to die #kimi ga shine #yttd #keiji shinogi #sara chidouin #gothitxt

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youngbeezer · 4 years ago

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Do you Believe in Happily Ever After? | Joel Farabee

A/N: Hello again! I got such a great response to my first fic I posted which literally made me so happy, so thank you so much to anyone who gave me the time of their day to read my fic. Here is a new fic for mr. joel farabee!! This one is a little longer and I tried my best, feedback always appreciated, but I hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: Few curse words, overall just fluff

Word Count: 2160

Tagging a few people again so this doesn’t flop,,,

@ollywahlygator @joshsandersons @joelsfarabees @fratboyzegras @sorokns @butgilinsky @ricohenrique

I haven’t been to too many weddings in my life. I attended one for my uncle when I was around 10 years old but I don’t remember much from it. My mother also got remarried around 3 years ago, but up until this year, weddings weren’t a natural occurrence in my life.

This past year though.. I’ve attended two weddings, got an invitation in the mail today for another one, a close friend of mine just recently got engaged (so that invitation will be coming sometime in the near future), and one of my best friends’ wedding is tomorrow. Now I feel like everywhere I look, I am surrounded by love.

Now I’m not saying that is a bad thing, but when every one of your friends are either having kids, getting married, or in serious relationships, it starts to feel a little discouraging. Is there something wrong with me? Am I the reason why I’m still single?-- No, I refuse to think like that! I could get a boyfriend if I wanted to. Maybe my friends are right though… Maybe I’m not putting myself out there enough.

Anyway, one of my best friends, Karly, is getting married to her long-time boyfriend Travis tomorrow. I’ve met Travis, or as everyone seems to call him ‘TK’, a handful of times and I know he plays for the Philadelphia Flyers hockey team-- which is cool I guess, but other than that I don’t know much about his personal life or who he hangs out with.

Karly and I met running into each other at a cafe once. Yeah, yeah I know it sounds like one of those cliche romantic meetings, where two people bump into each other and immediately fall in love. I mean we did hit it off almost immediately and from there we became like two peas in a pod-- just not in the way you think. I’ve always wondered though, if maybe I ran into a handsome man at a coffee shop or walking down the street, would I be having my happily ever after right now?

I snap out of my thoughts when an incoming call from- speak of the devil, the bribe to be. Before I can even say my greetings, Karly jumps right into business;

“Ok! So since you weren’t able to come to the dress rehearsal or rehearsal dinner. I’ll give you the rundown on what you need to do.”

Oh yeah, did I mention that I am one of the bridesmaids? Sadly, I was not able to attend the functions before the wedding due to not being able to get time off from work. But, Karly was super cool with it, which brings us to the reason for this call.

“Ok so basically, your dress and everything is already in the bridal suite, so everything will be ready for you when you get here tomorrow. You’ll be walking down the aisle third with one of Travis’ buddies Joel-- he plays on the team with Trav and he’s such a sweet guy he’ll definitely help you out if you need anything.. You know now that I think about it you guys would be such a cute couple-”

“Uh Karly? I don’t think now's the time to play matchmaker, when we should be preparing for your big day tomorrow.” I cut her off.

“Alright, alright. But I will be coming back to that thought. Ok so anyway--”

After that I kind of zone out from trying to keep up with whatever Karly is spitting at me right now. While still on the phone, I pull out my laptop and search for the name ‘Joel’ with ‘Philadelphia Flyers’ next to it in search of this man who is said to be walking me down the aisle. Right away the name ‘Joel Farabee’ pops up with a wikipedia and multiple photos. Hm this guy is kinda cute. Just as I go to click view more images, Karly’s words register back in my brain;

“Ok y/n, did you get that?”

“Hm.. oh yeah! Got it. What time should I be there tomorrow?” I ask, praying that she didn’t already mention that and realize I wasn’t paying attention.

“8 AM sharp,” she responds all giddy.

I suddenly remember that my best friend is actually getting married tomorrow. Feeling giddy as well I reply, “Sounds good. I am so happy for you Karly and I can’t wait to see how beautiful you look tomorrow!”

Karly does a little shriek in response and reiterates her excitement as well. We then say our goodbyes and I wish her a great last night as an unmarried woman before hanging up. I got back to what I was working on before the call and all my jumbled thoughts entered my brain, totally forgetting about a certain someone named ‘Joel’ as I exited the browser.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next morning I arrive at 8:17 AM at the wedding venue and as soon as I exit the Uber, I start booking it to the bridal suite. When Karly says to be somewhere at 8 AM sharp, you be there at 8 AM sharp, and I’m not particularly fond of facing her wrath today, especially on her wedding day when stress levels are through the roof.

There’s just one problem though… Since I wasn’t able to attend the rehearsal, I have no idea where I am going.

Trying to recall the directions Karly told me on the phone last night (when I wasn’t paying attention), I take a sharp turn around a corner looking the opposite direction and suddenly collide with a dead end. Wait- no that’s not a dead end, it’s a person.

Immediately going to spit out an apology, I stop dead in my tracks when I make eye contact with the handsome man I bumped into.

“Oh shit! I am so sorry. Are you alright?” I see his lips moving, which are very nice to look at by the way, but my mind doesn’t register his words as I stare dumbfoundedly at this handsome stranger. Who, now that I think about it, looks a little familiar.

When I still don’t answer, the familiar stranger clears his throat before giving me a once over of my whole body, which does little to bring me out of my trance. If anything I now start to feel my whole face flush from noticing him obviously checking me out.

His face then seems to light up in recognition before asking, “Wait, are you y/n?”

When he notices my look of confusion on how he knows my name he continues, “I’m Joel, Joel Farabee.” Scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, I notice a slight blush coating his cheeks before he adds, “We’re paired to walk down the aisle together… Um, also I think Karly is looking for you. She was kind of freaking out a little.”

With that last sentence my whole body comes back to life realizing that I am late and Karly is going to kill me. Hurriedly I exclaim “Oh my gosh! I am so late and I have no idea where the hell I’m going.” I frantically search around for any directions to point me to the bridal suite.

Joel kindly puts his hand on my shoulder, which immediately ignites a fire on the skin he is touching, before he reassures “Hey, you’re good. Just take your first right down this hall and then it will be at the end of the corridor, you can’t miss it. Seriously. She hung up streamers and balloons everywhere with a poster on the door that says ‘Bridal Suite. NO BOYS ALLOWED’.”

Letting out a soft snort I gently thank Joel before rushing in the direction he pointed me to. Before turning right, I sneak a quick glance over my shoulder to find Joel already glancing my way. My heart does a little flutter when we make eye contact and he gives me a little lopsided grin before going on his way.

What just happened…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As soon as I walk through the doors of the suite, I am immediately ambushed by the bride to be on why I was late, until she notices the deep blush covering my cheeks, which then prompts another ambush on what made me blush.

I change the topic as quickly as I can and direct our attention on getting ready for the ceremony. Karly looks absolutely beautiful in her white gown and her hair all dolled up. She doesn’t even seem remotely nervous for today as well. Most weddings I have been to, the bride is always going batshit crazy making sure everything is perfect or worrying that her soon to be husband might back out. That just shows how happy and comfortable Karly and Travis are in their relationship. God, I wonder what it must feel like to have that kind of love that is so solid and healthy. Suddenly my mind starts drifting to what it would be like to have that type of relationship with Joel.

Oh who am I kidding? I just met the guy. Sure, when his hand touched my shoulder my whole body felt like it was on fire. And yeah, maybe when he gave me that little lopsided grin it gave my entire stomach butterflies. Oh jeez. Today is gonna be a long day…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ok now I feel like my whole body is going to explode. He is looking at me like I’m now the bride and he is the groom. And suddenly, I’m wishing that were the case. We are getting closer and closer to walking down the aisle together, and every step we take towards one another my stomach does a little flip.

When we finally reach each other, he offers his arm for me to take as he speaks, “Wow… Uh yeah wow, you look gorgeous.”

Blushing, I respond with a quiet “Thank you.”

“Guess I was the lucky one eh? In case I end up tripping and making a fool of myself, no one will even be paying attention because all eyes will be on you.” There’s that little lopsided grin of his again.

“Well aren’t you a sweet talker.” I responded.

He just gives me a subtle wink before we ascend through the doors and down the aisle where Travis is waiting for the big moment. He gives us both a little smirk before we part ways like he knows something we both don’t.

…

Eventually Karly walks down the aisle looking like an absolute princess. The officiator says his whole ordeal, Karly and TK both say their vows to one another, there are lots of tears, and Joel and I can’t seem to keep our eyes off of each other.

After the ceremony, we all head in the direction of the reception hall where the real fun begins. Don’t get me wrong, the wedding was spectacular, the way everyone expected it to be. Now as music filled the air with a giddy sort of elation, the newlyweds looking beautiful and so happy while dancing, friends and relatives chatting between one another about this and that; I can’t help but feel a little bittersweet about it. I want this. I want that giddy elation to be surrounded around me, I want to wear that beautiful white gown, I want the guy to be looking at me like I just hung the moon while we had our first dance. Where’s my happily ever after--

“You know you never properly introduced yourself?”

Startled, I spun around to find the source. Joel.

I give him a sweet smile before returning my gaze back to the happy couple and responding, “Y/n y/l/n.”

He follows my gaze and lets out a little sigh before expressing “They’re perfect for each other, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, they really are.” Before I can get another word in Joel blurts;

“Do you wanna dance? Like,” He stumbles a little with his words, “like with me?”

Letting out a soft giggle, I happily reply, “I would love to.”

Seemingly relieved, Joel takes my hand and leads me out onto the dance floor as soon as a slow song comes on. He puts his hands respectively on my waist while I put mine around his neck inching him closer to my body. We dance with each other for a while, even after the song is over and a fast high tempo song blasts through the speakers. It’s like we are lost in each other, just savoring this ‘moment’ together.

Eventually after the fourth song comes on and we are still dancing, Joel pulls away just a little to look me in the eye before softly whispering “Do you believe in happily ever afters?”

Seeing that look in his eyes again, the one where it seems like he is looking at me like I just hung the moon? I answer in that same soft whisper, “Yeah… yeah I think I do.”

#joel farabee #joel farabee imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #joel farabee fic #ahh i just wanna dance with joel farabee and immediately fall in love with him #hope you liked it :)#my writing

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shihalyfie · 4 years ago

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The difference between the friend dynamics in the Adventure and 02 groups

This is a point I’ve reiterated in a lot of my 02-based metas, but there is a fairly distinct difference between the Adventure Chosen Children having a tight, deep bond and yet not quite being friends in “social life”, whereas the 02 group was a much tighter group on a social level. I always feel that I need to be really careful about saying this, because if I don’t word it carefully, it sounds like I’m trivializing the Adventure group’s bonds (plus, a lot of Adventure diehards will get very upset at you for suggesting this no matter how you put it), so I thought I should write something a bit more in-depth about it.

I think a lot of of this ultimately ties into what each series was about. The fact that Adventure was meant to be a series about “self-recognition of the individual” whereas 02 was about “relationships with others” has been pointed out by many a fan (and official staff too, while we’re at it), and it naturally lends to how the characters and the relationships between them will have a fundamental difference.

The idea that the Adventure group wouldn’t be the type to get together all that easily never really took that long after Adventure to set in. Of course, Our War Game! having this as a plot point also had a meta purpose (basically, limiting the number of people who could participate in the Diablomon battle), but it also has a very important point behind it: the Adventure kids’ social lives were never all that intertwined.

Again, this is something that sounds really awful to say without further qualification. What do you mean, the Adventure kids weren’t friends? Does that mean their entire adventure was for nothing? Did they go through all that only to forget about each other right after it?!

Well, no, that’s kind of exaggeration. I think to properly flesh out the nature of the issue, it’s important to define the differing ways you can be friends with someone. Imagine that you go on the best vacation in your life. You meet a handful of people there. You swap stories and get life-changing advice. You take commemorative photos after some really spectacular experiences. You swap numbers and social media contacts and then you go home. Are you going to keep in touch every so often with the people who gave you some very important advice, and maybe check on their important life events or organize a reunion sometime in the future? Very possibly! Does that mean everyone you met at that trip will now be regularly going out for lunch with you every week now?...Probably not, especially if you already have friends from school. That doesn’t mean you aren’t friends with the important people you met during that best life-changing vacation; it just means that they fill a very different niche in your life from the friends who don’t necessarily understand the life-changing vacation but have the free time to chat with you over lunch.

When the Adventure group found themselves pulled into the Digital World during summer camp, they had already come from very different social spheres. In short:

Taichi, Sora, and Koushirou were the only ones with a background of knowing each other beforehand, thanks to being in the soccer club;

Yamato went to the same school as the others but was a stranger to them, to the point people didn’t even realize Takeru was his brother at first;

Mimi had her own friend circle (see Adventure episode 29);

Jou was assigned as Mimi’s camp group leader but had no other prior relation to her, and Yamato didn’t even initially know his age;

Takeru wasn’t even supposed to be there since he didn’t go to their school and was only tagging along with Yamato;

Hikari was brought halfway into the adventure by virtue of being the eighth Chosen and Taichi’s sister.

Although six of the eight come from the same school, you can see that they’re basically “kids brought together by a certain circumstance” -- they’re not kids who would have normally come into each other’s purview had it not been for this. Which also means that as soon as their adventure ended and some years passed, the aspects of their real lives and social circles started kicking back in:

Taichi continued soccer;

Yamato formed a band (and presumably had a good relationship with his own bandmates);

Sora quit soccer for tennis;

Koushirou quit soccer for the computer club;

Mimi moved to the US;

Jou started attending a private school outside Odaiba;

Takeru and Hikari were never in their age group to begin with.

In the case of Taichi, Yamato, Sora, and Koushirou, it’s representative of how, although they originally had a shared interest in soccer, ultimately, they started to drift into their own specialties. Again, remember that Adventure was a series fundamentally about finding yourself and finding your own path, and all of these choices actually tie into their character arcs: Taichi is a straightforward person and a natural, charismatic leader, meaning soccer was good for him to begin with; Yamato learned to become more sociable and make friends at school; Sora started playing tennis as part of properly reconciling with her mother, and Koushirou decided to pursue a club relevant to his actual interests instead of one purely so that he could have minimal presence in it.

Mimi’s moving to the US is an interesting case because it’s likely because she’s often described (by both fans and official staff) as someone who is easily likeable and can get along with practically anyone. Considering that she’s constantly considerate of others and lacking in condescension or malice, it’s easy to see why; her infamous bouts of complaining were largely because she was under a lot of stress at the time of Adventure’s events (it’s even said that her cracking under pressure was meant to be representative of how an ordinary child her age would react to the situation), and otherwise she has no problems making friends -- hence why she was shown in Adventure episode 29 as already having friends in Taako and Mii-chan that she presumably hung out with prior to the events of the series. So in moving to the US, the point is made that Mimi could move to an entire other country and still hit it up with people there (and she does, given how she makes friends in Michael and the other American Chosen without issue). So thus, Mimi’s moving is also part of her own path -- becoming an effective “ambassador” between international Chosen as they start to pop up all over the globe.

As for Jou, his character arc has heavily to do with the fact that he’s always been on the “elite” academic track -- Japanese school entrance exams stretch back as far as high school, so the fight to get into medical school comes back as early as here, and since the events of Adventure helped Jou come to terms with why he wanted to be a doctor rather than just following his father’s wishes, it’s understandable that he would now be putting everything into that goal -- even if it means going to a different school outside Odaiba and committing himself to the prep school life. And, generally speaking, the other kids respect that too, given that the only time they tried to pull him from it was a time they were literally suffocating on the spot and needed Ikkakumon’s specific backup badly (02 episode 16).

And finally, Takeru and Hikari? The fact that they’re that much younger than the others in this group really is a big deal. When they’re on something “purpose-based” like an adventure, of course the others will have no problem keeping them around, and of course they’ll be happy to participate with these older kids. But if we’re talking about mundane, ordinary life -- there’s not a lot of evidence to suggest they really would prefer the company of kids so much older than them for conversations over lunch. This is especially because it’s hard to imagine they didn’t have other friends at school, too.

Not that they mind being around all these older kids when the time calls for it, but as far as socialization goes, they have their own lives to live. And that’s fine; again, Adventure was a narrative about kids coming to terms with themselves and what they wanted, and it’s not their fault for prioritizing those paths and forming their own social circles rather than insisting on being a specific eight-person group (no matter how much the fanbase wants to have the romantic image of them sticking together all the time no matter what).

Plus, it’s not like they all completely drifted apart and cut each other off!

Just because they’re not “daily life friends” doesn’t mean they’re not still important to each other. 02 episode 38 has Taichi, Sora, Jou, and Koushirou show up for Yamato’s concert -- it’s unlikely they were attending every single one of his concerts, but this was a very important one that was going to be broadcast on TV, so it’s only natural that even Jou (who, again, doesn’t go to school in Odaiba anymore) would still come to support him.

In fact, the fact they can come together when a situation like this happens even without necessarily meeting up every single day of their lives is probably a testament to how strong that bond is in itself. They don’t need to hang out once a day or week to maintain their friendship, and having other friends they’d rather hang out with throughout the day or invite to events doesn’t necessarily mean the other Adventure kids are less worthy friends to them. That experience in August 1999 was so impactful on all of them that they will never forget it, so even if they spent quite a long amount of time not interacting with each other, when a circumstance that necessitates them coming together does bring them together, they can hit it off like nothing happened. Think about how you might have an important friend that you may not chat with on a daily basis, but you talk to them once in a while and hit it off like you never had a break in the conversation. But because that strong bond is based on that one very specific experience that happened in one specific summer, it’s only natural that the majority of meetups over this are going to be based on something to do with that experience, like Digimon incidents; for ordinary things like “band concerts” or “club activities”, it’ll naturally be easier to stick around friends who have more similar social interests, like fellow band or club members.

On the other hand, this is very much not the case for the 02 group.

To understand why the 02 group has a fundamentally different dynamic, we need to dial back to a little before the actual “adventure” part of 02 started.

Right off the bat, we see:

Takeru moves to Odaiba from Sangenjaya, and specifically to the same building Miyako and Iori live in, meaning he’ll be walking to school with them every day;

02 episode 7 indicates that the Motomiya and Yagami families live in the same apartment complex, meaning Daisuke and Hikari are also likely to walk to school together;

Miyako and Iori are established as having already long hit it off with each other as neighbors;

Daisuke, Hikari, and Takeru end up in the same class (with Daisuke and Hikari having known each other already).

In other words: Even before anything to do with Digimon had been introduced (or re-introduced, technically) into their lives, the kids were already being thrown into each other’s social circles. You could technically argue that Daisuke wouldn’t have necessarily met Miyako and Iori if not for the Digimon incident coming into his life later in the episode, but Takeru being neighbors with them basically fills in all of the gaps here -- unlike with the Adventure kids where the adventure in August 1999 threw them together when they likely wouldn’t have been in the same social circle otherwise, the 02 kids are the social circle even independently of the Digimon incidents. In fact, due to being functionally neighbors, there are a lot of ways these kids’ social lives intersect, with Daisuke and Miyako being Taichi and Koushirou’s juniors, Miyako working for Yamato’s band, Yamato being classmates with Miyako’s sister Chizuru, and Jun and Miyako’s other sister Momoe being classmates.

Since, again, 02 was a series fundamentally structured on examining relationships, you can basically view Adventure being a series about “bringing some people together as they find self-assertion even when they’re from different social circles” while 02 follows that up with “so if they were in the same social circle, how would they deal with that?” -- especially since 02 makes it clear that certain kinds of emotional baggage associated with that can actually make it much more complicated.

A lot of 02′s first half is dedicated to the 02 kids doing completely mundane things that have very little relevance to the Digital World conflict -- watching TV in the computer room (remember: this was before they realized the “genius boy” being covered on the news was actually relevant to this), or having a picnic in the Digital World. Mimi even explicitly points out that this kind of thing wouldn’t have happened with the Adventure kids, but it’s not just because of the fact that Adventure involved a lot of running for their lives! It’s easy to dismiss a lot of what happens in these early episodes as “filler”, but a lot of this is dedicated to depicting how the 02 kids were constantly spending time with each other for reasons completely separated from Digimon incidents. This even includes completely ordinary things like soccer games -- Takeru, Hikari, Miyako, and Iori come to support Daisuke with an obvious motive of seeing him do well, so it’s apparent that they’ve come to enjoy hanging out with him beyond just obligation.

Part of this is because of the different nature of the Digimon conflict that they experienced. The Adventure kids had an experience that really was, functionally, “one” experience -- an extremely formative and important one, but one condensed one that they all experienced together. The nature of what the 02 territory war and conflict was, on the other hand, meant that what the conflict “was” to the 02 kids was of a completely different nature. This wasn’t summer vacation; this involved going back and forth between the fight and real life, to the point where Digimon fighting became integrated into “daily life” -- so of course you’d probably hope that the people you’re fighting with are also people you like to bond with on a social level. “Digimon life” and “social life” became synonymous to them.

And when it all comes down to it, it’s hard to pinpoint a “single experience” that the events of 02 embodied, or at least in the same way August 1999′s adventure was. As much as they were running for their lives, the Adventure kids have the luxury of looking at the events of their series as a formative singular time for them, one that they could even look at nostalgically, but for the 02 kids, it’s hard to condense everything into one singular experience (it’s easy for the audience to see it as one series, but for the kids themselves, it’s a very long chain of vaguely connected events). Actually, most of the year involved fighting with someone who ended up becoming their important friend and the other involved helping him deal with his trauma, so it’s not like everyone would be likely to have the most romantic image of this experience itself to “bond” over as much as they care more about the take-home they got out of it: each other.

One thing that 02 doesn’t really spotlight front and center with its starter cast of characters is that, unlike the Adventure kids, who either came with their own social circles prior to Adventure or eventually developed their own in the course of their lives, it’s heavily implied that the 02 kids actually had difficulty making other friends even on a social level, or at least were likely to be in a situation where the other 02 kids really were better company than their other options even for mundane situations. This is especially in the case of the newly introduced characters, who are, effectively, a bit socially “displaced” from others and likely to have struggles fitting in.

There are quite a few signs that Daisuke had serious difficulty making friends prior to the events of the series (with Hikari being the closest thing he had to one), and the fact that the 12-year-old Miyako is portrayed as constantly hanging out with the 9-year-old Iori, brought together by being neighbors, rather than people closer to their own ages stands out. Iori is particularly interesting in that, unlike with Takeru and Hikari, who were portrayed as kids likely to socialize better with those their own age, Iori’s unusual maturity for his age heavily implies that he would actually be out of place with his classroom peers (a very common phenomenon for some people in real life, too!). 02 episode 3 depicting him left alone in the classroom with only a teacher to watch him while his stubborn fixation on principles leaves him slow to finish his lunch says a lot -- his own behavior is liable to isolate him from others, and it’s thus not all that surprising he ended up bonding with some kids who are older than him and more accepting (and even treat him with proper respect, too).

Takeru and Hikari, too. There’s been a lot of arguments over whether the two of them would theoretically be closer to the Adventure kids or the 02 kids, but I would honestly say it’s technically both at once -- they have the same “not socially close, but intuitively understanding” relationship that the Adventure kids all have with each other, but hold the other 02 kids as part of their social circle and hang out with them in “daily life”. So in other words, they have the Adventure kids’ relationship with the other Adventure kids, and the 02 kids’ relationship with the 02 kids. This is presumably why Takeru and Hikari end up hitting it off so well at the start of 02 even though they didn’t interact all that intimately in Adventure; not only do they have that shared experience they intuitively understand, they also were able to start hanging out in day-to-day life and actually, well, socialize.

This applies to them in relation to the rest of the group as well. While neither of them were necessarily portrayed as having social problems, one common thread between the two is that they’re both very emotionally closed-in. Takeru’s response to negativity is to cover it up with smiles, until he can’t hide it anymore and bursts (which scares the hell out of Iori in 02 episode 19 and ultimately forms the basis of their Jogress arc), whereas Hikari has issues vocalizing whenever she’s hurt or in pain (said by herself in 02 episode 31, but with precedent from Adventure episode 48). That means that, even with potential social circles at school, it’s unlikely they necessarily would have had someone they could emotionally bond with deeply off the bat (especially since Takeru had just moved from Sangenjaya), and it’s likely why they kept gravitating towards each other (despite never truly talking about anything in-depth for most of the series) up until the Jogress arc.

In other words, while the Adventure kids’ adventure of self-actualization meant that their relationships to each other were mainly formed on simply understanding that they had a similar experience and empathizing, the 02 kids -- full of a group of somewhat socially maladjusted and out of place kids, plus two who had been on the prior adventure but were young enough to now still be carrying some deep-seated, unresolved emotional baggage -- were in a position where they arguably needed each others’ help to grow.

Jogress isn’t just an obligatory evolution gimmick; it’s something very important to 02 as a series and understanding what it wants to say about relationships. I think one thing that makes me very sad is how often its constant pigeonholing as a gimmick makes me hear people saying that Daisuke and Ken was the only plot-relevant one and the rest were forced “spares”, saying that something like Takeru-Hikari and Miyako-Iori would make more sense. But when the point of the series is about building your relationships from scratch and learning to grow together, I really don’t feel that a story about relationships that naturally existed already would have helped it nearly as much. It’s not like Daisuke and Ken was that likely of a friendship, either!

This is especially in the case of Takeru and Hikari, who certainly were vibing pretty well with each other, but were still very emotionally closed-in with a lot of emotional baggage until the more to-the-point Miyako and Iori were able to break through their shells. (02 episode 13 is so often considered a “Takeru and Hikari bonding” episode, but while it does do a lot to show off the depth of their relationship that hadn’t been depicted much besides them just hanging out all the time, it also does not solve Hikari’s core problem in nearly the same way Miyako gets to the bottom of it in episode 31.) This is also why Takeru and Hikari have such a different relationship with the 02 kids compared to theirs with the Adventure kids; while they were largely tagging along with the older kids and learning a bit about inner strength back during their summer adventure, the 02 group is the one who not only provided them with friendship on a more equal peer level, but also poked deeply into their emotional issues that they very much needed others to help them out of. These are friends who finally get them.

That Ken ultimately becomes yet another addition to this group of kids in need of friends finding support in each other should go without saying -- after all, it’s made abundantly clear he was very lonely and friendless until Daisuke and the others reached out to him -- but it ultimately culminates in them choosing to integrate this lonely boy from Tamachi into their social life. (Remember: Ken is the only of the six 02 kids to live in Tamachi and not Odaiba, but the last quarter of the series has them going out of their way to meet up.) The episode that establishes that everyone has truly made their peace with Ken and wants to unequivocally support him (with the most originally stubborn against it, Iori, graciously accepting him) is sealed off with a Christmas party. A completely ordinary Christmas party that has nothing to do with the Digimon incidents at hand, where they can play meaningless card games and celebrate the little things like Ken laughing, because it’s not just forgiving him or learning to work with him, but actively enjoying his presence and supporting him.

The Digimon Animation Chronicle profile for Ken in Diablomon Strikes Back refers to him as Daisuke’s “best friend” (親友). Usually, the word for “friends” within Adventure and 02 would be nakama (仲間); you may have heard this word from One Piece fans, but this is a word that roughly means “one of us” and has a stronger emphasis on being in a certain group, or being like-minded. Thus, “you’re a Chosen Child like us,” or, more pertinently, “you have the same goal as us and we’re in this together” (after all, it’s not like being a Chosen Child was ever an exclusive club or anything).

But in the case of Daisuke and Ken’s relationship, it’s not just about having happened to gain a deep bond over the course of 02, it’s that Daisuke now really does have a sense of emotional closeness to Ken that the two are considered best friends by default -- in any situation, despite him living all the way in Tamachi. Even though the franchise loves to put them in the category that “protagonists and rivals” usually get, where most others are ones who tend to have friction but understand each other in the end, Daisuke and Ken are unique in that they’re not like that at all. They have a very straightforward sense of emotionally confiding in each other, at worst maybe lightly bantering a bit, but they are friends before anything else, and that extends to the rest of the 02 group as well.

The aftermath

On its face, it sounds like the 02 kids are getting a pretty luxurious deal -- they got a fun adventure of emotional growth out of it, and they’re tight friends with each other at that! Well, that probably sounds great, but there’s a flip side to all of this.

Firstly, as I mentioned earlier, the Adventure kids’ adventure in 1999 was a lot more “romantic” than the 02 kids’ eight-month-long ordeal. Sure, a lot of it definitely was stressful, what with the running for their lives and the scary villains and the emotional conflict, but there was also the part about getting to meet Gennai and the other friendly Digimon around and getting to explore villages. They were on summer break, so they didn’t even really have to worry about school (especially once they realized time dilation was a thing); it’s basically the epitome of the romantic coming-of-age story. (Fun fact: Stand By Me is really culturally influential in Japan.)

02, on the other hand, was an eight-month-long ordeal of having to fight a territory war crammed into the after-hours of school, juggling fighting this war with keeping it from parents, in a fight that would retroactively turn out to be against what would later become a heavily traumatized and beloved friend, plus eventually watching him get subject to even worse trauma. Oh, and the series also ended on witnessing a bunch of deaths (or in other words, the worst New Year’s Eve ever). While it seemed like the kids had the luxury of enjoying the Digital World in ways the Adventure kids couldn’t at first, actually, they didn’t get to enjoy as much of it at all, since they never got to form any lasting relationships with anyone like Gennai or Elecmon. These kids were basically too busy trying to keep each others’ heads on straight to really be able to focus on that.

The comparative mess that the 02 kids went through, and the messes that they kind of are, means that they’re rather dependent on each other for emotional support. This is not inherently a bad thing, mind you; the fact that some people are more independent than others is a simple fact of life, and the 02 kids (whether it’s from naturally being a bit misfit or from the degree of their experiences) being the type who grow together with mutual support isn’t inherently anything bad. It does, however, mean that they’re likely to have some difficulties ahead coming out of 02 as “growing up” conspires to make it more and more difficult for them to stick together -- after all, how many people have actually been able to stick with their elementary school friends all the way into adulthood? This is especially because Japanese high schools admit students by examination, and rank by academic ability; it’s not particularly common for those from the same elementary/middle school to attend the same high school, even if they live close to each other, and it’s very unlikely that all of them will be sticking together in school by that point.

So, how did they fare?

Well, before we get into anything else, we should probably bring up one thing that seems like such a tiny little detail but is actually very important for this: Technology didn’t stagnate at 02′s D-Terminals, and by the time of Kizuna in 2010, smartphones and group chats existed! (Earlier than they did in real life, at that.) This is actually really important because of how much it does for that question of “how to keep in contact when circumstances like school keep you apart” -- especially when the Adventure group would certainly appreciate the method to keep in touch despite their lives largely getting increasingly separate. That, and even more so if other similar technological things like social media existed; there’s a lot of ways to keep in touch despite physical and circumstantial distance.

Of course, they’d been keeping in touch via email since 02, but a group chat is much lower pressure and actively encourages everyone to keep in touch; think about how useful group chats have been for connecting with your own longtime friends. It’s ambiguous whether the 02 group was privy to this particular chat from To Sora given that they were clearly on call for incidents like the Parrotmon one, but it’s also entirely possible that this is a room for The Ones Who Went on That One Adventure in August 1999, especially since they use the Crests as their icons, and the 02 group has their own (let’s be real, they totally would; think about how many Discord servers with overlapping people you might be in right now). This, combined with the fact that the Adventure and 02 groups seem to have formed a sort of recon squad for the increasing number of Digimon incidents in Tokyo, means that there are actually a lot more opportunities to stay involved with each other than ever before!

As it seems, the Adventure group does seem to be rather emotionally close to the point that Taichi is willing to reach out to Yamato simply to dump his emotional troubles about his future career prospects on him (despite them going to very different universities at this point). Yet, at the same time, there’s still a palpable sense of distance going on here, and a depiction of Taichi and Yamato having developed separate social lives and their own friend circles -- Taichi with Morikawa and Nemoto, and Yamato with Abe (their names come from the novel), who are also acquainted with each other enough to talk about career and worry about each other.

When Taichi and Yamato talk over beer, they don’t even have updates on the same people (Yamato has to update Taichi on Sora and Takeru’s status), and ultimately, Yamato comments on their drifting -- saying that it’s a potentially inevitable part of choosing one’s path. It’s not hard to see why he says this; it’s been a recurring theme for them since after the events of Adventure. Sora and Mimi haven’t been around for Digimon incidents lately because of their careers, and it’s highly likely Jou hasn’t either; Koushirou keeps in touch, but our only depictions have been in the range of business and Digimon incidents.

But for the 02 group? Absolutely not.

The Kizuna drama CD has a lot about what the 02 group was doing (and planning to do) during their little “vacation” in New York. In fact, there’s a lot to go on about here:

Daisuke and Takeru show up together even though Iori was allegedly said to be “first” approached, meaning the two of them were basically hanging out anyway.

Daisuke insists on going on a trip that’s about his own personal career with friends -- and not just any friends, but specifically the group of himself, Ken, Miyako, Iori, Takeru, and Hikari. He also wanted his seniors along, but they were too busy -- but it’s pointed out that the other 02 group members aren’t exactly full of free time either, meaning that these five have a special place of importance to Daisuke in his ramen career trip.

Even the Digimon are aware of what the other humans (the ones that aren’t even their partners!) have been up to lately.

Miyako and Hawkmon say that it’s only natural for them to show up when the group is getting together -- i.e. being with this specific company is a fact of life to her, to the point she invents D-3 gate exploitation to be with them.

The group keeps saying “it’s been a while” for periods of time in which it is made pretty obvious it’s actually not a lot of time at all. (Miyako had just left for Spain to the point her coming back elicits an “already?!” kind of reaction, yet that constitutes “a while”, and the most likely very short time between the trip planning and the movie is also apparently “a while”, and it’s very likely that Takeru’s “a while” in greeting Iori may well have not been that long, either.) It really makes you think about how often the people in this group must be meeting up to think that this constitutes “a while”...

Hikari is ready to fight people for denying her the chance to play with Miyako.

Beyond that, they’ve all apparently been regular enough presences in Daisuke’s life for completely offhand comments and actions to have major impacts on his career thoughts.

In the movie itself, Miyako refuses to take on the exact same request that she ultimately gladly participates in with the rest of the 02 group in New York -- presumably, because the fact her friends are there makes it all better.

As it turns out, despite everything -- despite everyone going in completely different directions with their careers, attending different schools (Iori’s still in high school while everyone else is in university!), the 02 group has been maintaining this attitude of going out of their way to hang out with each other, in a sort of “we do it together, or we don’t do it at all” sense. Of course, that’s not to say they’ve all stayed so socially maladjusted that they’ve become completely incapable of making any other friends at all, but there is a very clear, strong preference of them wanting to be in each other’s specific company to the point that they would do ridiculous things to make it work.

So, you might be asking: what’s the trade-off?

Yamato attributes the alienation between the Adventure group to “choosing one’s own path”. Inherently, this is not quite right (nor is the sentiment that “choices are bad” in general), especially considering that Daisuke, Iori, and Hikari already made their choices in path a long time ago, yet are still behaving like this. The question is actually more of priorities; notice that while the older Adventure characters are mainly portrayed in Kizuna as aggressively pursuing career prospects, the 02 characters, despite having their current educational statuses listed in their profiles, simply seem to have this as not an object.

Iori’s still in school uniform; he’s arguably cramming this all between school club obligations. Ken, Miyako, Takeru, and Hikari don’t have their current educational status involved at all, and even though Daisuke’s ramen trip is technically for his future career, he’s also happy to just “play around” about sightseeing (and, again, there’s also no reason he needed to bring his friends for this). Takeru’s working on his novel, but he hasn’t actually decided it’ll be his career yet. It’s not about whether they’ve made choices or not; it’s about the fact they’re going about this remarkably casually to the point where maintaining their relationship with their friends is more important than career. And this extends to the 02 epilogue as well; compared to their seniors’ more prominent history-making careers, the 02 group’s is more low-scale and community-oriented (the only exception being Sora, but even that ties into individual ambition more than anything else, considering that not succeeding her mother is already a pretty big deal in itself).

The take-home

Adventure and 02 are both very well-known for showcasing people with different personalities and goals in life, and celebrating their differences. I think, personally, the difference between the Adventure and 02 groups’ dynamics is also something that reflects on the different ways to live one’s life as well. This is especially something that most of us can probably understand well now that we’re adults looking back at this, especially in light of Kizuna.

There are some of us who really want to do large-scale things in this world, and will need that understanding of the self to get there but may struggle with maintaining consistent friendships on that turbulent path, and have to adapt by managing the different levels of their relationships and learning to get along with different people in different ways. There are some of us who gain happiness more from mutual support with the people around us even if it means not ostensibly achieving as “great” things, and feel most comfortable with a single consistent set of friends. Some of us are in between, or feel elements of both as we try to experiment with things in life (actually, I’m pretty sure that’s probably most of us to some degree).

Think about your own life and future prospects right now, and then think about the friends you may be in touch with, or haven’t been in touch with for a while, or the ones you talk to for different purposes or fulfill different niches in your life. We’re all trying to straddle this balance; there’s no one right way to live.

#digimon #digimon adventure #digimon adventure 02 #digimon adventure last evolution kizuna #kizuna spoilers

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years ago

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Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 4

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Finally, after fifteen minutes of staring at her mostly full coffee cup, Mulder tosses both their drinks in the trash and trudges back to the Hoover building. He had plans to work late, but seeing Scully makes focusing on work impossible so he goes home to lie on the couch and stare at the ceiling instead, replaying their one-sided conversation over and over. Upon reflection, he realizes that he didn’t speak a single word to her other than her name. He was paralyzed, his feelings for her in direct conflict with his desire to never again feel the way he felt after she left his apartment that final time. He wishes that he’d asked her what she wanted from him, why she was there.

The phone rings and he rolls off the couch to retrieve it from his desk.

“Hello?”

“Will, I’m surprised you’re home. I was expecting to leave you a message.”

He smiles at the coincidence of Valerie calling him at this exact moment; she always seems to intuit when he needs to hear from her. Like he does with everyone, he had directed her to call him by his last name when they met. She did so for a while, but when things took a turn towards the intimate she informed him that she could not call a man she was sleeping with “Mulder” and sought to find an alternate moniker, Fox being out of the question. He was Maverick for a bit, then Sly, and for a brief moment Doug (he was never clear on the origin of that one). Ultimately, she went with his middle name, William, and finally shortened it to Will.

“Oh, and why’s that? My bustling social calendar?” he retorts, finding his way back to the couch and sitting heavily.

Valerie snorts. “More like your hopeless addiction to work. How are you? It’s been too long.”

Mulder sighs. “I’m...okay.”

“That bad, huh? You wanna talk about it?”

He considers the question. Talking to his ex-girlfriend about another woman seems a bit uncouth. “I’m not sure it’s something you’d want to weigh in on.”

“Girl trouble, then?” she says with a smile in her voice.

“Something like that, yeah.”

“Spill it,” she demands.

He tells her everything, about meeting Scully, about getting to know her, falling in love with her. He spares some of the gory details on their sexual encounter and her visit the next morning. He finishes on seeing her that day, and the reason he begged off work early. This is the most he’s shared with anyone about Scully, The Gunmen being great friends, but not the sort you seek dating advice from. It feels good to get it all out.

“Damn, Will. That’s a lot. Shouldn’t you be happy, though, after seeing her today?” He can hear the crunch of potato chips as she speaks, ever the dedicated snacker.

“It was good to see her in a sense, but it also feels a bit like a step backward. Like I’ve lost progress in the effort to move on.” He’s lying down now, one leg kicked over to rest on the coffee table and Priscilla curled up on his belly.

“I don’t get it,” Valerie says deadpan.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“You’ve been pining over this woman for the better part of a year, and she turns up to tell you she’s single and she realizes that she should have chosen you all along. That’s somewhat of a fairy tale ending, is it not? Aside from the whole cheating-on-her-fiancé-part, I guess.”

“No, Val, she said that getting involved with me was a mistake, which I already knew. If anything she was rubbing it in, which seems uncharacteristically cruel.” He runs a hand down Priscilla’s back and she cracks an irritated eye at him until he stops.

“Oh my god, Will,” Valerie replies, pulling the phone away from her cheek and sighing in exasperation. “You know, for all that fancy education your parents paid for, you’re really dense sometimes.”

“Well then by all means, enlighten me.”

“She said she ignored the signs and made the wrong choice. She’s divorced now. The marriage was the wrong choice, you dolt. That other guy was the wrong choice. The signs were telling her you were the right one.”

Mulder sits up suddenly, Priscilla clinging to his chest in a last-ditch attempt not to get dumped on the floor and piercing his skin painfully. She ends up on the couch beside him.

“How sure are you about that?” he asks, his heart starting to race.

“Pretty damn sure. The way you describe her, she sounds like a thoughtful person. I don’t see what motivation she’d have to reiterate to you that what happened was a mistake; she’d already made that clear in the first go-round. The only reason she’d want to say all that to you is if she realized she was wrong. She wanted to set the record straight, and apologize. Not for what happened with you, but for choosing the other guy.” He can hear the slurp of her eating something like soup in between sentences, the wet smacks making this revelation sound like an offhand comment.

He’s quiet for a long moment, replaying his interaction with Scully today through the lense of her wishing she’d walked away from Ethan, that she’d chosen him. He closes his eyes. Does he dare hope that Valerie is right?

“You still there, Will?” she asks impatiently.

“Yeah, yeah I’m here. I’m just...trying to wrap my head around all this.”

“Well, I gotta run, so hopefully you can do your ruminating solo. I didn’t even get to tell you the reason I called.” He can hear her up and moving about, opening and closing drawers and cupboards.

“Shit, you’re right. Sorry. What’s up?”

“I’m pregnant,” she says, and then waits a beat before adding “it’s not yours, if that’s where your brain is going. We haven’t slept together in almost two years, you may recall.”

“Uh, yeah...yeah I do recall that seeing as I haven’t slept with anyone in almost two years. Are you...should I be offering congratulations? This is a good thing?” He’s hesitant, unsure if they’ve reached a stage of life where a pregnancy is happy news.

“Yeah, it’s a good thing. I’ve been seeing this guy for a little over six months. It wasn’t planned, but we’re excited. The relationship is still pretty new, obviously, but I think I can see myself growing old on a porch swing with him.” There’s a smile in her voice, a dreamy contentedness that makes his chest ache. It’s the reason they broke up, so they might each have a chance at something like this. He hopes he’ll have his chance too.

“That’s great, Val. I’m happy for you,” he says with a tight voice.

“Thanks, Will. Sounds like you found your person, too. You just gotta go out and get her.”

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

“What does she call you, by the way?”

“She calls me Mulder.”

Valerie laughs softly. “Must be fate.”

———

The days since seeing Mulder have been dreary, both in terms of the weather and her mood. She has already lectured Missy repeatedly over her terrible advice to see him again, opening up fresh wounds and sealing shut doors that she had previously held out hope might open again. The morose look on his face as she admitted that she wished she’d chosen him was a kick to the gut. It was too late, far too late, and he wasn’t able to forgive her. Though it’s what she knows she deserves, it still hurts.

She sits in the clean and quiet autopsy bay, filling out paperwork that she tends to reserve for the end of her days. She’s been working more overtime lately, in no rush to return to an empty apartment and be alone with her thoughts and self recrimination. The idea of dating seems obscene, and yet she can admit that she’s lonely. But not lonely for just anyone; she wants only the one person she knows she will never have.

“Excuse me,” calls out a smooth baritone from behind her, and she turns on her stool to see Mulder there. His charcoal grey suit and white dress shirt stand in contrast against his red tie, one hand in his pocket in an attempt to be casual. The cool bravado she saw in him before is absent, replaced with something vulnerable and raw. She feels adrenaline rush through her limbic system, stealing from her the ability to speak.

“I’m looking for the pathologist on duty,” he continues, and she feels a rock in her gut. He had to come here for work, and see her again. She feels guilty for existing in a space that he is forced to enter.

“I’m the pathologist on duty,” she responds regretfully.

He approaches her cautiously, taking the stool beside her without invitation, and considers her for a moment. With a look of trepidation, he holds out his hand and she gives him a quizzical look.

“Fox Mulder,” he says, his green eyes so earnest and open. There is no anger, no resentment.

“Dana Scully,” she replies, her voice catching as she understands, slipping her hand into his.

They are starting over. A clean slate. A new chance to get it right.

“You don’t look like a Dana,” he says, and there’s just a hint of playfulness in his voice.

She laughs, her mouth smiling while her eyes glaze over with tears. Their hands still clasped, he pulls her close, her stool rolling into the space between his knees as he wraps his arms around her shoulders. She should be embarrassed by this unprofessional display out in the open, but the only feeling she can muster is relief at the smell of his cologne and the press of his chest into her cheek. How many nights has she mourned the loss of this? Hundreds. Perhaps last night will be the final time.

“Would you like to get coffee with me?” he asks against her hair and she laughs again, nodding as her cheek brushes his shoulder. “Are you free now?” he adds.

She pulls back and looks at him, his eyes shining back at her with hope they’d both given up on.

“Yes, I’m free,” she answers.

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files #x files fanfic #alternate universe

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morganas-pendragons · 4 years ago

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Goodbye For Now | Din Djarin

I had a dream the same day this aired that incorporated Goodbye by Avril Lavigne... and yeah, this was born. I put a lot of my own experiences into this fic. It’s very personal. Regardless of that, I hope you enjoy!

tag: @earthtokace / @kyber-queen / @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol

This is literally the first fic in years I’ve used Y/N and it’s just one line for the fic, and I think it’s the longest fic I’ve ever written on Tumblr.

Word count: 5.1k OOPS

After

In the quietness of a little room in the back of an inn on Nevarro, the question asked by a grieving Din Djarin rolls around in your mind. You hadn’t been able to give him an immediate answer. It was too fresh. Too heavy.

What’s the hardest part about letting go?

As The Mandalorian sleeps fitfully behind you with his arm wound tightly enough around your waist to ensure you do not disappear in his sleep - because has he not sacrificed enough? - you ponder his question as much as your sleep deprived mind is able.

Din.. I think the hardest part about letting go is being able to accept that the people you’re letting go of aren’t apart of your life anymore. They aren’t physically with you anymore. They aren’t imprinted on your memory, on your soul. You just have to let it... fade. Let them fade until they're just a story.

Your eyes flicker down to the ring that lays on your left finger.

But in a galaxy as remarkable as this one... There’s always that glimmer of hope that someday, maybe someday... they’ll come back to you. That they won’t leave you.

“And Grogu will never leave you Din.” You whisper, wrapping your hand around his forearm and lightly squeezing it as you settle into the warmth of his embrace. “Never.”

Before

Your blood chills in your veins at the words, “I go alone.” because there is no possible way in Sith hells you are allowing Din to walk onto that cruiser alone. As Bo-Katan reiterates the plan to the crew around you, your eyes are focused on the rigid and silent Mandalorian standing across the holo-table.

You’re not coming with me.

Are you really naive enough to believe I’m letting you go alone, Din? You snap, to which he winces at your sharp tone. If Gideon is half intelligent as I think he is, he’ll have installed impenetrable defenses on those dark-troopers. You'll need a Jedi to get through them.

You can practically feel the burn of his gaze through the helmet. It’s obvious he wants you with the larger group, but you refuse to bow when the life of your son is at stake. If he’s going to retrieve the baby, you very much intend on remaining by his side to ensure the safety of them both.

Until the end.

Fine. You stick by me, don’t say a word- He pauses and swallows the reluctance in his throat that dies when he meets your eyes through the helmet. You know he’s looking at you... and you know how fearful he is. And please, don’t die.

You beam. Dying without you, Din Djarin? I have no intentions of doing that anytime soon.

The two of you disengage from the shuttle, trekking through the bodies left in the wake of the women in the landing bay as you move in the direction of the brig. Doctor Pershing had disclosed that Gideon had been keeping the baby there, so there was no reason to believe that he wouldn’t still remain within the same cell.

Your blood roars in your ears as you disengage the lock on your staff and hold the hilts of each saber in your hands. The Force envelops you in its comforting hold - wraps around your bones and your scars and your muscles and invigorates you with a strength you haven’t felt since before The Republic fell - and guides your steps that will lead you in the direction of the little one who holds a large piece of your heart.

The other piece is held in the hands of The Mandalorian.

Din. You murmur. I just need you to know that you may see a side of me today that you’ve never seen before. If that in any way changes how you feel about me-

He stops you short just as a pair of Stormtropers jog past. Nothing will ever change how I feel about you. He sounds certain, almost confident, in his answer. The sound of it makes your chest warm.

Never?

Never.

It’s right there on the tip of your tongue. You’ve only said it to each other once in the time that you’ve been together, but you’ve never desired to say it more then this moment, but it doesn’t feel right. It’s too rushed. Dancing too close to the edge of anticipation as you seek out your child.

Your heart nearly jumps out your chest as Din sprints in the direction of the doors where the dark troopers are emerging and one lone soldier has escaped. Before you can react, the man you love is being held against the wall in an iron grip and a fist is repeatedly pounding itself into his helmet.

“Din!”

The Dark-Trooper turns its eyes on you, and you’re suddenly flung into a lifetime of battle skills that kept you alive when you’d served as a Padawan in The Clone Wars and on the front lines of The Rebellion. You slide forward on your knees and remove the legs of the trooper just as Din impales the thing with the Beskar spear slung across his back.

“I’m fine-” He rasps, extending a hand to hold you at arms length as your trembling hands tighten their grip on your saber. It’s not often that Din comes face to face with Death when you're standing right there. People are petrified of Jedi. There aren’t many of them left. Mandalorian bounty hunters, however... They can be more expendable. Easier to break then one who is gifted with The Force.

“C’mon. I’ll take point.”

Right here. The Force whispers its assurance as you both stand in front of the nearest cell, and the moment the door opens you are granted with the sight of Moff Gideon holding the dark saber in front of Grogu.

Buir. You’d completely forgotten the baby had bonded himself to you in the days just shortly after you’d found him. He’d rarely used it. He’d only ever opened himself up to project his emotions onto you in order for you to know when something was wrong, but the minute you see him sitting on that bench, he’s talking to you.

Grogu holds his hands out as if he’s reaching for you, wide eyes pleading for you to remove the Force Suppressant handcuffs that envelop his tiny hands. Buir.

Tears prick your eyes as you ignite your saber. The other sits idle on your hip just out of reach.

“Drop the blaster,” Moff nods to your saber. “And your saber. Slowly.” The two of you drop your weapons simultaneously. “Now kick them over to me.” Before Din can do so, you wave your hand to throw your weapons just out of reach. “Very nice. I didn’t know Jedi could be civil.”

The venom drips from his words. “If you’re not careful,” You warn. “I will show you what I look like when I am not civil.” A split second passes as you watch the fear flicker through his gaze before he’s tightening his grip on the dark saber. Moff had not, to your knowledge, encountered any kind of Jedi up until this point. He only knew of their abilities. Not of what they were capable of - with the dark or the light - with The Force at their disposal.

The damage you could cause....

“Give me the kid.”

“The Kid is just fine where he is.” Gideon replies, to which he begins moving the dark saber back and forth just to hear the satisfying hum of its kyber that rings within the hilt. “Mesmerizing, isn’t it? It used to belong to Bo-Katan.” Din stops short at his statement. “Yes. I know you’ve both been traveling with Bo-Katan. Friendly piece of advice, assume I know everything. Like the fact that your wrist launcher has fired its one and only salvo.”

Your gaze is still trained on the kid. Did he hurt you? Your voice is gentle as you prod at the shields that Grogu has placed inside of his mind. For someone who has little to no training, he’s rather good at making sure nobody can reach the most vulnerable places of himself. Ad’ika, it’s okay. It’s your buir. Did he hurt you?

Din and the Moff are still talking as your son lifts his head, meets your soft - and familiar, he hasn’t felt this safe since he was last on Tython, knowing you and Din were out there protecting him - gaze, and shakes his head.

Bless The Maker.

You shake yourself out of your reverie at the Moff’s words. “I see your bond with him. The bond the Jedi has made with him,” He comments, disengaging the dark saber as he moves away from the baby. “The two of you can take him, but you will leave my ship immediately and we will go our separate ways.”

The Force coils itself around you. Tightens around your arms as if you pull you away from the baby, and just as Din moves to pick him up, whispers danger before The Moff has reengaged the dark saber and slams the weapon into Din’s jetpack.

“Din! Go!”

Buir. You throw yourself right into the line of fire, regardless of the threat to your own life, and envelop Grogu in your arms as the fight between the Moff and Din carries out into the hallway. Safe.

You aren’t sure if he’s talking about himself or you. Regardless, you cradle him against your chest and bring your knees upward to shelter him within your manse.

Yes. Safe.

The cuffs fall to the floor with a snap of your fingers.

***

You’re straight up itching to punch Bo-Katan right in her smug face. After bringing Gideon to the bridge where the rest of your team awaits you, the Moff confesses the origins behind the Dark Saber - which for some reason is a tradition, despite Mandalore’s loss, that Bo-Katan still follows because it is what she knows - and the Princess of Sundari refuses to take it back from Din.

“You are so stuck in your old ways, Bo-Katan.” You snap, Grogu still cradled in your arm as you pace the width of the bridge. Din still wields the blade and grasps the Moff in the other hand, hardened gaze set on the thick-headed Mandalorian before him. “Wake up! This is not your sister’s Mandalore-”

The youngest Kryze whips around. Shock and disbelief writes itself into your features because that is the only time you can recall seeing such a fire lit within her. “Don’t you dare speak her name-” She snarls, pointing an accusatory finger at you as the two of you step toe to toe. “Or even think of her.”

You are so tempted to release your biggest secret, the one you’ve been keeping from everyone - even before you met Din - for your own safety. You hadn’t even told the Skywalker's about it.

It’s fortunate you didn’t obtain the auburn hair.

“Why don’t you kill him now and take it? It’s yours now.”

“What is?”

“The dark saber.”

Bo-Katan will not relent. Until she wins that saber in combat, she refuses to even lay a hand on the dark saber. You find the entire thing amusing given what your former Master had told you in hushed stories underneath a starry sky about Clan Kryze. Stubborn, prideful women. Satine’s pride had earned her an early grave. Bo-Katan, however... that remained to be determined.

“I yield. It’s yours.’’

Din is too good for the throne of Mandalore. All he wants in life is a ship, the baby, and you. That is what drives him to hand the dark saber over to Bo-Katan. That is what drives him at all.

You know about the Dark Saber. You’ve heard the tales surrounding it since you were small, stranded on a home world you’d have rather never seen again with your father and a thrumming lightsaber crystal. The Force will be with you. Always. He had made that promise just before he died, and you had carried his words with you ever since. That man had sheltered you, raised you, made you his own.

And as Din watches you hold that Dark Saber out in front of your hand, he finally sees the resemblance. He sees the ferocity in your gaze and the defeat in Bo-Katan’s, he sees how similar you too are in both personality and physical appearance.

What the kriff?

“He’s right. The power is in the story, not the weapon.” Darkened eyes meet your own as your pulse thrums erratically beneath your grip on the Dark Saber. “Ironic how a Jedi raised on Coruscant knows more about Mandalore then most of the people in here, two of which are from Mandalore.”

“Who said I wasn’t from Mandalore?”

Before the two of you can argue, one of the alarms begins blaring on the opposite side of the bridge. The dark troopers have breached the ray shields and board the cruiser.

“You’re about to face off with the Dark Troopers. You had your hands full with one, let’s see how you do against a platoon.”

This was the precise moment you’d warned Din about. “Bo-Katan,” You call over your shoulder at the Princess, who turns to acknowledge you as she puts her helmet on. Now or never I guess. “Ke'pare olar, cabuor cuun adiik. Par Clan Kryze.”

Before Bo-Katan can ask you what you’re doing, you reach into your tunic and reveal the pendant you’ve worn since long before you met Din. A token from the man who'd taken it upon himself to raise you, you’d been everywhere with the tiny silver owl that almost never left your person.

Her breath catches in her lungs. The last time she saw that pendant...

“Sarad-”

“Din?” You question hesitantly and lowly enough that the others can’t hear, handing him the baby before you reach for your sabers. “Remember when I told you I was going to do something you’ve never seen before?” Din nods and tightens his grip on Grogu as you activate each saber and turn in the direction of the doors.

“Yes.”

The Mandalorian catches your trembling hands wrapped tightly enough around your sabers to turn your knuckles white.

Din swallows the trepidation that lingers in his throat and squares his jaw beneath the helmet, allowing his fear of what may happen to you - despite knowing how well you can take care of yourself - to confine itself to the back of his mind. He can dwell on it later.

You’re making the child’s safety your top priority.

“Don’t let it change anything.”

You cast one last look over your shoulder at the man you love, allowing your gaze to soften as Grogu eyes him, then you, and rests a tiny hand against Din’s. He’s trying to tell you I’ll keep him safe while you’re gone. It’s sweet. Endearing.

“It won’t.” Din replies quietly, to which his voice then whispers I love you across your bond. Your heart nearly explodes with how gentle it is, how he chose now to tell you again after so long of having not heard it. There’s a newfound strength coursing through your body as you turn towards the doors and call to Fennec to open them. “Be safe, Sarad.”

“I will.”

As someone who usually calls on the Light Side of the Force, you’re oddly coaxed to the lingering darkness in the hallways of the Cruiser. You’ve never allowed yourself to fall like the Sith do. You’d had every reason to do so over the years, and yet you never did.

It occurs to you as you make your final stand alone that the only reason you never fell was because you found the baby.

Oh Force...

The metallic footsteps of the dark troopers ring in your ears as you stand vigil before the doors to the room that contains your family. Your aliit.

Forgive me.

“Go on then!” You yell, hoping your voice will carry through the hallways in which they are following to lead themselves to you. “What, are you afraid of a Jedi? I’ve bested the dark, I’ve survived two wars and a mass genocide! Nothing can break me!” You twirl your wrists in the usual jar’kai motions and settle yourself into your favorite defense position. “I’m ready! Are you??”

Outside the main viewport, a lone X-Wing flies within view with the hangar as its destination.

Your head falls to your chest. I’m calling on you... Be with me. The steps grow closer, the anticipation of their lethal capabilities thrumming in your veins. Be with me.

The first dark troopers circle the hall. You peer out of the alcove in which you’re hiding, position yourself in the middle of the platoon, and lift your head towards the ceiling.

Din watches from the surveillance array as the first squad of dark troopers begins trembling. The metal crumbles beneath the weight of your Force grip. “Sarad-” He whispers, fingertips ghosting the screen as he watches the troopers turn in your direction and set their targeting systems on you. “Sarad.”

Be with me.

Unaware of the other Force User who’s just landed in the hangar, your head snaps upward and your instincts kick in as your sabers begin moving of their own accord. You are not the one moving with such grace, such poise, years of training in desert sands with a man who’s constantly dancing with his ghosts.

You are not you. You are simply The Force.

Blue collides with obsidian. Further down the hall, Grogu watches on the surveillance as his buir and the Jedi he’s called upon move to meet each other half way.

Before you reach the newcomer, you’re nearly knocked off your feet by the way his presence radiates in The Force as you clench your hands into a fist and send the last Dark Trooper slamming into the wall.

“No way.” The two of you snap upward to meet each other’s gaze. It’s been years since you’ve seen that familiar face - the same familiar face you’d spent so many nights with training in the forests, the same face that had always softened as the two of you traded stories about your pasts and the Jedi who’d trained you - and it’s a welcome sight that this happens to be the Jedi that your ad’ika had called upon on Tython. “Luke?”

The newcomer throws his hood back to meet your eyes.

“Y/N.”

***

During

Buir. Grogu watches the surveillance screen as you and Luke join one another in the elevator. There’s one small platoon left that’s come from a separate hallway that the two of you can eliminate without barely lifting a finger.

The powerful two Jedi can radiate. It’s cosmic.

It’s alluring. Mesmerizing. A flurry of blue and green weaving between one another as each individual dark trooper is reduced to a pile of smoking metal. Din watches Grogu where he stands, little hand planted on the surveillance screen as the two of you emerge together from the elevator.

“Remarkable.” Din whispers, because it is. The way that the two of you fight is almost like you were born to do it together, to fight with one another and as one another.

The last dark trooper crumbles under Luke’s grasps. When he passes by the camera, Grogu turns to his father and tips his ears back before whining for Din to lift him up.

“Open the doors.”

Din tries not to laugh at the utter indignation on Fennec’s face as he cradles the baby’s neck in his hands, moving around the bounty hunter to stand before the blast doors. He knows they’re safe when you’re standing on the other side of it.

The crowd watches as the newcomer follows on your heels through the smoke left in the wake of your destruction, and the two of you both remove your hoods to acknowledge them.

“Mandalorian.”

“Is he... A Jedi? Like you?”

Luke, ever the civil, folds his hands across his stomach and nods. “Yes.” He says quietly, green eyes softening as the baby peers around the edge of the chair to look at his buir and the man who has answered his call. “Come, little one.”

Grogu looks to Din, and then to you. You can hear his question as clear as day inside your mind.

Are you ready to let me go?

And in that moment, everything comes crashing down in front of you. He’s asking for your permission to go with Luke. He’s asking for the permission of the woman who’d saved him and the man who’d taken it upon himself to keep him safe, to raise him, to let him go with the other Jedi in order to be properly trained. Maker knew you couldn’t do it.

“He doesn’t want to go with you.”

Goodbye, goodbye

Goodbye, my love

“He wants your permission. Both of you.” Luke’s voice breaks through your reverie as you hang your sabers on the belt that’s swung low across your hips. This child has been your livelihood, your reason for breathing, since the year following the genocide of the Jedi. Since you lost your world.

And it seems like you’re about to lose it again.

I can’t hide

I can’t hide what has come

“He is strong in the Force, but talent without training is nothing. I will give my life to protect The Child, but he will not be safe until he masters his abilities.” Unfortunately for you, Luke knows you so well that he can feel the weighed projection of your feelings that emanate from you like a flare within the darkness, which is what prompts you to gently usher you towards Din.

“Hey, go on. This is who you belong with. He-He’s one of your kind.”

I have to go

I have to go... and leave you alone...

“I’ll see you again. I promise.”

Wide, innocent eyes flicker between you and Din before Grogu is reaching up, ever the gentle, to press his hand against his helmet. This would be the first and most likely the only time the baby has ever seen Din’s real face.

You flash a questioning look at the man you love. Then, without question, he wraps his fingers around the bottom of the helmet and slowly lifts it off.

The beskar clang resounds within the bridge.

But always know

Always know... Always know

That I love you so..

Your heart has begun to bleed just by watching this exchange. Din has gone so much of his life without knowing what love was, how gentle people were capable of being. That had all changed when The Child had healed The Mandalorian’s lonely heart. It had never been you. It was him who healed you both.

Din’s lips quiver as Grogu presses his hand to a bare cheek. Your tears are becoming harder to keep at bay, and with the sudden tightness in your chest, you’re suddenly finding it incredibly difficult to breathe. Nevermind the fact that the room has suddenly begun spinning.

‘’Alright, pal. It’s time to go.” Din said quietly. You aren’t entirely sure if he's talking to himself, to you, or to Grogu. “Don’t be afraid.”

Everything around you is muted. Numb. Like your body is trying to fight a shock that you haven’t experienced since Order 66.

Buir. A tiny whisper, echoing in the back of your mind as a gentle hand rests on your shoulder. A flash of a child’s cry echoes in your ears as a blonde woman hands a baby into the arms of Obi-Wan Kenobi, the very man who had taken it upon himself to raise you. Safe. That whisper grows into the voice of your son. Your son is staring at you over Din’s shoulder and desperately trying to call your attention as your world comes crashing at your feet. Buir is safe.

That’s what he means. Since you’re not going to be looking over your shoulder and sleeping with one eye open anymore just because he’s in the same vicinity as you - such a powerful being inside this tiny body - now, you are safe for the first time since The Empire fell.

The fact Grogu puts your safety over his own makes your heart break.

“You’re losing a child.” It’s Bo-Katan’s voice that brings you back to reality. The gentle and foreign tone she’s using is enough to jar you and bring your focus back to the matter at hand: It’s time for Grogu to be with his- your people. “It’s alright to grieve.”

It is, but you can’t. Not right now.

You stumble forward and wipe at your eyes as you press your front to Din’s back. He’s very clearly overwhelmed by the loss of the baby, but that doesn’t stop him from nodding in thanks to Luke.

Goodbye, sunshine

Goodbye for now

Your anguish is replaced by a split second of joy as Grogu looks at you, waddles forward to cradle your leg against himself and say i love you through his Force Bond before he’s turning in the direction of the astromech who’s just rolled into view.

“May The Force Be With You.” But before Luke walks into that elevator, he casts one last look at you. It’s the same look he gave you before you’d left to make a life for yourself. To be your own person outside of the legacy of the Jedi that you’d been brought up in. “I’m offering you the same opportunity I did when you left, Y/N. You can help me in training The Child with the new Jedi Order I intend to build. There are many young Force Sensitives to find.” He holds out his free hand and tries to hide his smile as R2 beeps his approval. “A new world. Would you like to be a part of it?”

Through your Force Bond, you clearly feel Din’s heart drop right into his stomach and his chest tighten as reality hits him: You and the baby may be leaving him together. That would leave him alone for the first time in several years.. and Din doesn’t remember what he was like before he met the two of you, before he loved the two of you.

He doesn’t want to go back to being a ghost.

“I left you for a reason, Luke.” And just like that, the infamous Mandalorian masks his shock as you step backward and right into his hold, maneuvering your arm so as to take his hand within yours. “And I have no intention to leave my aliit. Not this time.”

Luke nods. It’s all he can do. “Very well. As I said, May The Force Be With You.’’

Grogu looks at the two of you as Luke carries him into the elevator.

Goodbye, brown eyes

Take care of yourself

It is so difficult to keep your composure as your son watches the two of you disappear from view. Your knees are already trembling by the time Din pulls you into his arms, and when the elevator doors close, you throw your head back against Din’s chest and let out a wail that shatters the silence following their departure as the two of you sink to the floor.

I have to go.. and leave you alone

But always know that I love you so

Din’s split second decision comes as he buries his face in your hair and whispers as gently as he is able, “Marry me.”

I love you so

Your eyes snap open to meet his own. Tear filled onyx meets your gaze as you cradle his face in your hands and kiss him - once, twice, three times until he’s open and begging and desperate for more of you - before pulling away to envelop him in the tightest embrace possible.

Oh... he’s so wholly and wonderfully yours.

“Yes.”

***

After

Bo-Katan approaches you as you stand in Slave One, knees brought to your chest and chin resting upon them as she kneels in front of you. You and Din haven’t said a word since you boarded the ship, and it’s a needed silence. You must have time to process your losses.

Why did I have to let him go?

“That pendant.” Bo-Katan whispers. “That pendant used to be in my family, Clan Kryze.” The former Princess of Mandalore tilts her head as your gaze remained focused on the cargo hold, eyes vacant as she continues. “It was mine. That pendant was mine and eventually passed to my sister, Satine. You know about Mandalore before the Empire, you know about Kenobi, you know about The Force.”

Your eyes slowly shift to hers.

“And?”

“I don’t think you’re from some backwater planet. I think you were born on Mandalore,” Her eyes soften, the first time you’ve seen her show any kind of humanity in the entire escapade since leaving the Cantina. You didn’t think she was capable of it. “I think Kenobi raised you wherever he ended up, and I think he was your Master. I think you are Mandalorian, little one.” Bo-Katan stands to her feet and hesitates for a brief moment before resting her hand against your head. “But I don’t know. I never will.”

Your entire body sags into her touch.

“Bo-Katan-”

“Be peaceful, little Jedi.” She stops before turning to look at you over her shoulder, flashing the faintest smile - one you swear you’ve seen before - before returning to her spot beside Koska.

Your eyes flutter as you fall asleep.

***

The End

In the quietness of a little room in an inn on Nevarro, he asks you again.

“What is the hardest part about letting go?”

And this time, you have an answer.

“The hardest part about letting go is knowing they’re somewhere out there in the world, away from you, and you still love them. Love them so deeply and so much that it hurts you to be away from them.” You trace the contours of his exhausted aspect, lightly poking the end of his nose just to see the toothy and bashful smile he flashes in response, and prop your head on your hand as you lightly trace his bicep with steady fingers. “You wanna know what the best thing to do is before you inevitably must let them make their own way?” Din hums his acknowledgement and opens his eyes to meet your own. “You love them. You love him..” You exhale slowly on a sigh and lean inward to press your lips to his forehead.

Din sinks into your hold and allows you to cradle his head to your chest. You bury your face in his hair and reach into your shirt to reveal the owl pendant.

“And you hope it’s enough.”

Hm. Maybe one day you’ll have the courage to tell her.

One day.

#Din Djarin x Reader #Din Djarin #The Mandalorian x Reader #The Mandalorian #The Mandalorian x You #The Mandalorian x Y/N #Star Wars imagines #Star Wars oneshots #The Mandalorian fanfiction #The Mandalorian fanfic

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izzabeean · 4 years ago

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Chapter 11 : Apprehensive

SUMMARY

You never thought it would be this hard to open up.

pairing : ushjima x f!reader / oikawa x f!reader / iwaizumi x f!reader

genre : angst + fluff

word count : 2,376

content : profanity

tags : alternate universe - college/university, post-break up, friends to lovers, pining, slow burn

a/n : Hello! Apologies for this late post. Everything has been a bit hectic lately and I’m struggling to keep up with work and my free time. I have started to slack a bit on my writing. It’s a bit on the shorter side but here is the next chapter!

Because I’m new to this and have bit more off than I can chew, I’ve noticed some timeline errors when writing this chapter. I couldn’t just let it go and had to go back to correct them.

For those who do not wish to re-read chapter 8 (I understand, it’s a hefty one), please note that at the beginning of the chapter, Y/N and Iwaizumi have a heart-to-heart. Originally it jumps to the same day, but that is an error on my part. The rest of the chapter actually takes place later in the week. So Y/N has spent almost a week at Oikawa’s apartment.

I appreciate you all for tagging along for this ride. I definitely have been aching to write about Hanamaki or Matsukawa, but will once this series has been completed! Thanks so much xx

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Walking into the empty corridor, you blink at the torn-up flooring exposing the bones of the apartment while noticing dust in the air from the sunlight trickling in through the living room window. Living here for almost four years gave you the alone time you needed. But now it felt foreign. The familiar serene getaway from the pressure of your parents breathing down your neck was now emanating dark energy. A place once full of bright memories seems to turn into the last place you wish to be.

“What is?” Iwaizumi exclaims, following behind you.

“It’s just weird,” you murmur, smiling up at Iwaizumi. “I haven’t seen it this empty since I moved in.”

That day didn’t feel too long ago.

As cliche as it sounds, it almost did feel like yesterday. Getting settled into the new space, unsure what to do with yourself in the silence of the apartment. But it wasn't long before you made friends with Oikawa who would come over to study together. He'd always bring snacks from your favorite dessert place and sometimes, if you could convince him, he would stay over to watch your favorite series. Yes, he would complain that he hated it, that it was slow, uninteresting and he's seen better. Then he would shut up and watch knowing that you enjoyed his company in the lonely apartment.

Your gaze shifts to the bedroom doorway. The last night you spent there, it was with Oikawa, but before that, it was always Ushijima. Not every single night, but when he did, you felt safe pressed up against his broad frame under the covers. Thinking about it now, it makes you regret that you didn't indulge in it more back then.

When you started seeing Ushijima, he became the priority. He would come over for study dates and you'd never have to ask twice to persuade him to watch television series or movies with you. Truthfully, you miss those days. Everything was so simple and new. It felt like a breath of fresh air that you were aching to find.

Yet here you are now just remembering what you wish to forget.

“Are you sure you don’t want to just move in with me?” Oikawa sniggers, analyzing the janky water-damaged walls that look like they could disintegrate at any moment.

"What? You finally have the balls to say this place isn’t good enough for you?" you mock, raising an eyebrow at him waiting for his answer.

"No, it's just…” he pauses before continuing, half-heartedly afraid he will offend you. “Old."

You roll your eyes. Yeah it's older than any twenty-something-year-old would want to live in, but you didn't care because of the location to the university and honestly, in your eyes, the apartment is quaint and homey.

“You always have something to say. Don't you, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi fumes, eyes sending daggers in Oikawa’s direction.

You couldn't help but let out a snicker that catches Iwaizumi's attention, shooting you a little smile. The natural draw your body has towards Iwaizumi is intoxicating. Your entire mind turns to putty when he looks at you like all your worries will just disappear upon his gaze. Maybe that's why you unconsciously kiss him the other night.

You don't want him to leave. You want him to stay. But how can you say that when you haven't known him for very long. The Iwaizumi now is so much different from the Iwaizumi in elementary school. Yet you wanted to get to know this person standing in front of you so much more and the limited time made your heartache all over again.

"Are you excited to move back in?" Iwaizumi asks, his eyes still locked on you.

“Yeah,” you utter, the sound of your heartbeat feels louder than your words. “I can’t wait to settle back in. I miss--”

Ding!

The sound reverberates from Iwaizumi's pocket.

“Shit, one second,” he exclaims, voice emitting a hint of embarrassment as he takes out his phone to read the text message he just received. “Fuck, I totally forgot. I'm supposed to meet up with some friends.”

“Oh,” you stammer. The words are laced with disappointment, but you remember you don't have Iwaizumi all to yourself. No, he isn't yours, unfortunately. And with that, you quickly switch forcing a smile to hide the gutted feeling encompassing your body. "It's fine!"

“I’m so sorry, I’ll catch up later. Just text me if you guys end up going somewhere else,” he calls out before rushing out the door.

The sound of the door shutting cues a rush of anguish flooding your chest as you wonder where he’s gone off to in such a hurry. He did say friends, but friends could mean anything including a girl.

Oikawa continues to walk around the apartment and you feel your face pale as you wonder what he's thinking if he knows who Iwaizumi's friends are.

Stop. You couldn't let yourself spiral into those thoughts. It wasn't like you to think this way, but you can't help yourself when you fear the same disappointment that surges you on the day you saw Ushijima and Sara together.

Fuck. At least insurance is giving you a bit of a break with the repair costs.

“Landlord says another week until repairs are done," you finally say, breaking the silence. "Then I can start moving my stuff back in.”

“Maybe don’t celebrate just yet, knowing your luck.” Oikawa taunts.

“Oh, is it because you’re going to miss me?” you scoff, attempting to make him squirm, but he plays right into your hands without hesitation.

“Yeah right, thought you said you were sick of me," he japes, taking a swing at the words that practically stung before.

“I guess you could say that...” you breathe.

Your words taste bitter with a drop of guilt as they leave your tongue. Perhaps you felt you owed a lot to Oikawa for basically saving your ass.

With the apartment.

With Ushijima.

You look at the bandage on his face and your eyes trail down to his bruised knuckles. Perhaps you wanted to do more than just buying him his favorite drink. Yet, you didn't even know where to start or what he would want to make things even.

“I-- I’m just joking, just to clarify. Of course, I’m not sick of you,” you sigh, reverting eye contact as you muster up the courage to express your thoughts. “I’m very happy to have you.”

I don’t know what I’m saying, you think while peering at the confusion spread on Oikawa's face. You don't normally open up to him about this kind of stuff and you feel your body burning under his gaze.

“Sorry this is a bit weird,” you exclaim as the nerves take over and you bite your tongue before you say anything else.

“No, no, I’m interested now,” Oikawa purrs.

“Well, maybe now I don’t want to tell you!”

"Of course you do," he persuades slyly grinning.

Normally the gesture makes you recoil as you witness his flirtatious nature that you've never succumbed to because that's just how Oikawa Tōru was. But instead, it just pushes the words out.

"Th-- thank you,” you say unable to even look up at him. “For everything. You’ve really been there for me when no one else has.”

At first, you think he's going to laugh in your face. In fact, you expected it so, but when you trail your eyes back to meet his, he sends you a small smile.

“That’s what friends are for, right?” Oikawa comforts.

With a deep breath, you stare into his chocolate brown eyes, drinking in his gaze and he’s giving you that look. It’s the same look he gave you last night when you were patching up his wounds. And it makes your heartthrob.

“You’re really something Tōru. No wonder all the girls fall for you,” you tease, in an attempt to push away the flush of embarrassment from his words.

“I wouldn’t say all,” Oikawa chuckles.

His voice is low and sultry, and you wonder what he means by that as contentment warmed you from within.

The exchange lingers but you clear your throat and turn away to walk around the apartment. The gesture causes Oikawa to shift his weight from side to side looking at your figure in the small space.

“I think I’ve seen more than enough,” you exhale taking one last glance out the living room window. “Shall we head out?”

“Sure.”

Oikawa walks down the short hallway, while you take a moment longer to soak up your apartment.

“See you soon,” you whisper before turning your back to leave.

Just as you close the door behind you to lock up, you hit your back into Oikawa’s frame who is standing firmly behind you.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, then peak behind his body to see Ushijima standing at the end of the hallway.“Wa-Wakkun… What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you,” he demands.

Although you can't get a good look at him in detail, you can see his face is bandaged up from Oikawa’s punch.

“I don’t--”

“And you think I’m going to let that happen?” Oikawa rages, placing his body in between you and Ushijima.

“Tōru, it’s okay,” you reiterate, touching his shoulder lightly to reassure it's not worth his energy.

“Or did you not understand anything from last night?” Oikawa continues ignoring your words and shaking your hand off his shoulder.

“Maybe we should ask Y/N instead of you making decisions for her,” Ushijima booms, remaining calm.

“Tōru, come on,” you sneer, grabbing his arm to pull him along, but he wiggles your hand off once again.

“I know for a fact she doesn’t want to talk to you," he sputters, eyes narrowing on Ushijima.

But your patience hit its limit. This time your anger couldn't be pushed down as your blood starts to boil. And you unleashed it in front of Oikawa, stepping in front of him shooting him a furious glare.

“Are you going to fucking listen or not?”

Your voice snaps him to his senses seeing your eyes glossed over but filled with rage.

“You don’t speak for me,” you thundered. “Let’s go.”

You grab his hand and yank him forward, walking by Ushijima ignoring him.

“Y/N, please,” Ushijima pleads.

Yet you don't turn back. You can't. It isn't in your best interest to talk it out or hear his point of view. This isn't something that can be fixed with words. He hurt you and you could not surrender what is left of your dignity. You had to move on, in your own way just as he's doing.

“Don’t fucking do that again,” you bark as you continue to drag Oikawa behind holding his hand tightly.

“That guy is basically stalking you,” Oikawa argues trying to keep up with your frantic strides.

“So what? I can handle it myself.”

“I was just trying to help--”

“And look what happened last time!”

Your legs come to a stop and you swallow thickly. Your voice erupts as your heart sinks at the realization of how angry and guilty you feel, of how mad you are at yourself for letting Oikawa get in the middle of your issues with Ushijima. The familiar sense of dread returns and the look from Oikawa’s shocked wide eyes make you regret your outburst.

“You got hurt because of me,” you manage to breathe, slowly sliding your hand out of his.

But before you let go, he grabs it tight then pulls you in close, your face enveloped into his chest and his chin resting on the top of your head. The sensation offsets your frustration and anger, you hadn't known it, but once you received the warm and comforting embrace you realize it’s what you really needed all this time.

“If we left at the beginning of the night, you would’ve been fine,” you gasp, trying to get the words out, but your voice breaks a little. Your chest feels tight like your heart is going to burst any moment now as it continues to descend deeper and deeper into dread.

Oikawa doesn’t say a word, afraid that he’ll ruin the moment if he does. His worry grows as he takes a deep breath in expecting you to smell like nicotine or ting of smoke, from the secret you have been keeping from him. But you have this indescribable scent that draws him in closer heating up his entire body as he presses yours into his. Not wanting to let go.

“But because I had to prove a point, we stayed,” you continue, and feel tears beginning to form, blurring your vision. “I’m the one at fault here.”

"No Y/N," Oikawa says trying to soothe you. He thinks he can forget the throbbing pain in his chest as he looks at you undone before him. "You didn't do anything wrong. I'm sorry for involving myself."

"It's okay," you say taking a sharp breath. He smells so good and his hug is doing wonders for your mental health but you pull away worried that you've overstayed your welcome.

“Why do you hate him so much anyway?” you sniffle, wiping the tears with your sleeve.

“Mmm don’t know…” he murmurs.“I just don’t like him.”

You frown at his reply. Does he really not have an actual explanation?

“Well that’s stupid,” you breathe, unsure if you actually believe it. “Did he steal a girl from you or something?”

“No!” he responds, quicker than he wishes he did. He remembers when you first mentioned Ushijima’s name, there was a sparkle in your eyes he’s never seen before. At that moment, he promised himself to not get in the way and remain neutral, but Oikawa was much pettier than that.

“Who was it?” you snort, only half sure he’ll actually tell you.

“No one,” he chuckles. “We don’t have the same type anyway.”

“Why? I’m not your type?”

Your voice is soft and innocent as he pauses to analyze whether you are being serious or not.

“Kidding! Obviously,” you snarl.

By now, there’s this ease of tension between the two of you as you lapse into silence. Nothing more needed to be said.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #oikawa x reader #oikawa x y/n #ushijima x reader #ushijima x y/n #iwaizumi x reader

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clanoffetts · 4 years ago

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someday. | paz vizsla x fem!reader

chapter I

masterlist

synopsis: Paz Vizsla finds himself stuck on Dantooine with a broken ship and no credits. Luckily, he finds you, a mechanic that will fix his ship for passage to Hosnian Prime. Over the course of your time together, a courtship blooms.

warnings/things to note: star wars swear words; reader has hints of PTSD that will be expanded on in further chapters (and those will be tagged with stronger warnings); blatant lack of knowledge of ship mechanics; only one use of ‘Y/N’

word count: 5.1k

Dirt kicked up behind heavy boots. Hands stopped their work so heads could turn. It wasn’t often a Mandalorian showed up. Actually, one had never showed up. And this one was huge. A buff man, covered in heavy armor that had been painted blue. Even his helmet evoked fear. The townspeople were watching myth become reality.

The large man walked into Aliria’s Shop. The shop had a name once, when Aliria’s parents had opened it, but that was some 80 years ago now. The shop had survived the Clone Wars and the Empire, not to mention the constant flow of smugglers and thieves customary to the Outer Rim. Aliria’s Shop wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.

It was a fairly small shop, especially considering all the things packed into it. Aliria carried food, clothes, a small array of weaponry, and medical supplies. There wasn’t much in the little town, a droid mechanic, a ship mechanic, a small infirmary, and a bar. Aliria’s Shop was the hub, she had the essentials.

The Mandalorian was like a bull in a china shop inside the store. Aliria had crammed crates, tables, and shelves into every crevice of the store. Not to mention the various pieces of merchandise hanging from the ceiling.

“Watch it, Mandalorian!” Aliria yelled at the man as he almost hit the shelf of fruits with the huge gun on his back. She may look like a frail older woman at the age of 75, but her voice didn’t show it. Aliria’s tan skin was weathered and her body was tired, but her voice held life. She was the backbone of the community.

The armored man let out a gruff sorry before moving on. He was looking down at his gauntlet, reading some kind of list. “Kriffing hell, how do I find anything in here?”

“We don’t get many outsiders, Mandalorian,” she said. “But my sales associate can help you. She was an outsider once, too.”

The pitch black of his visor shifted to you. Your hair was a bit messy, as you’d just helped your co-worker unload a speeder of goods. But you smiled at him. A change of pace is always nice. You walked from behind the counter to be in front of the Mandalorian and you asked, “What are you looking for, sir?” Your customer service voice was rough, you never needed to use it with most of the customers. They knew you personally, everyone knew everyone here.

“You got ration bars?” His voice was gruff and deep, but you couldn’t tell if that was just because of the helmet.

“Not many,” you told him. “Maybe ten? Aliria has such good prices, no one ever needs to buy a ration bar in place of real food.” It was a sales pitch you’d been taught when training here, but it was the truth. Why pay a credit for a ration bar when you can pay a credit for instant noodles?

He huffed a little. “I’ll take all ten.” This man was weird, you decided. “Non-perishables? Do you have any?”

“We’ve got some beans, some vegetables that won’t go bad for at least a few years, rice, and a few other things. They’re all kind of scattered around.”

“Of course they are,” he was annoyed. “Where’s the vegetables?”

You pointed through a door at the back of the shop. “Greenhouse out back. Tell me what you need, I’ll go grab it.” Reluctantly, he showed you his gauntlet. It was a grocery list. You locked the information into your mind, grabbed a basket and headed to the greenhouse.

When you got back, he was in the same place. He must’ve seen your confusion because he said, “I’d rather not waste time looking for things myself. I figure you’d be better at it.” And you were. You helped him get everything he needed, but the list just got weirder. Baby formula, toddler sized coveralls, ammunition, a journal, and more miscellaneous items that made no sense to you. You didn’t believe a Mandalorian was going to hand write something and in a journal, no less.

You wanted to know more, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t be keen on questions. Before you’d come to Dantooine, you’d been all over the galaxy and heard stories of Mandalorians and their secrecy.

“What brings you to Dantooine, Mando?” You ask as you ring up the last of his items, putting them in the up-cycled grain bag grocery bags. You were tired of the tense silence, Aliria had gone into the back to do Maker knows what, and the Mandalorian’s stare was unnerving.

“Work,” he said. His visor remained unmoving, his eyes were on you. You had a feeling that ‘work’ was something either illegal or close to it. “You?”

You were surprised. And, again, he must’ve noticed. “The old lady said you are an outsider, too.”

“Was an outsider, Mando,” you correct, bringing up his total. “I came here for work, too.” He could tell you were lying, or at least not sharing the whole truth. “It’s two-hundred credits, Mando.”

He reached into a pouch on his belt, and pulled out all the credits. “That should be two-hundred.” It was. Exact change and everything. Once you’d counted the money and placed it in the register, he grabbed all his bags with ease and turned to walk out.

“Have a nice day!” you tell him, remembering your lines Aliria insisted on. He said nothing in return.

Paz Vizsla arrived back at his ship far out from the town. He put the bags of supplies for the covert in the cargo hold and cleared the message from Armorer that detailed what they needed. After the covert had to relocate, they were in desperate need of supplies. Especially for all the children who lost a buir or, Maker forbid, both buire. The children who had basically become foundlings. Paz’s heart broke for them, he tried to be the best ba’vodu, but there some things that even stories from Uncle Paz couldn’t fix.

He’d spent the little bit of left over change from the bounty on something for each kid, even Bezza, who was old enough to be treated as an adult at seventeen. She’d lost her buire, and the least Paz could do was get her a nice, leather-bound journal that she’d been pining for. Something hard to come by in a galaxy that had moved on from physical writing.

Paz closed the cargo hold and began moving himself towards the cockpit. He was tired, and though no one else agreed, he was getting old. Nearing 44, he was ready to just be Mr. Vizsla the teacher, Uncle Paz, and hopefully buir someday. But he was one of the Tribe’s best fighters. They needed him to keep hunting, so he did. This is the Way.

He moved to start up the ship. It gave a groan, but lit up all the same. Paz began his takeoff procedures, but the ship wouldn’t budge. Kriff, he thought. This can’t happen. Paz Vizsla was a capable fighter, fluent in Mando’a, and a brilliant teacher, but he was no mechanic. That had always been his biggest shortcoming. I have no credits, he realized. Stuck on Dantooine with no credits.

Dirt kicked up behind heavy boots. Hands stopped their work so heads could turn. It wasn’t often a Mandalorian showed up. But this one had now shown up twice. The awe of the townsfolk was still the same. He trudged back into Aliria’s Shop. This old woman would know someone willing to fix a ship for some food, he thought. She seems to know everything.

Except, when he walked in he was greeted by a new face. Not the saleswoman who’d helped him a few hours ago, nor was it the old woman. “How can I help you?” The boy asked. He couldn’t be more than sixteen.

“You know anyone who’d be willing to fix a ship for a meal? Or maybe a small blaster?”

The kid shook his head. “No one around here is that desperate. I’ll go get Aliria, though. She might know someone I don’t.” The kid retreated into the back room without fully taking his eyes off Paz.

When he returned, he had Aliria hobbling along next to him, bony hands around his arm. “Zenith says you need a mechanic? There’s a shop down the road but what he charges won’t be worth what you get,” the woman says.

“I need someone who will work for something other than credits,” he says. “I don’t have any.”

You looked up from the datapad in the backroom. You had experience as a mechanic, you were rusty after all these years, but better than the other option, who probably learned by seeing a few pictures on the holonet. Maybe this was your ticket back out of the Outer Rim. You’d amassed enough credits to at least get an apartment for a bit until you can get work. Core Worlds always had open jobs, and you have connections. You hated to leave the little town, but it had always been the goal. You just thought it’d be many more years.

You stepped out of the back room. “I’ll do it, Mando. I’ve got experience, I can probably fix it.” Zenith seemed surprised, but Aliria just smiled.

“I can’t pay,” he reiterated.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, you’ve said. We’ll negotiate the price on the way to your ship. You got tools?” He nodded. “I’ll be back tonight, Aliria. I’ll finish up inventory then.” The old woman told you not to worry about it and shooed both of you off, ready to get back to whatever she was up to in the storage room.

As soon as the door shut behind you, you said, “Passage to Hosnian Prime. That’s all I’m asking.”

“Hosnian Prime? Do you know how long it’s going to take me to get from Dantooine to Hosnian Prime?” He was annoyed. The ship must be having a minor issue, but you were wanting a major payment. “And so far out of my way, my home is in the Outer Rim. And I’ll have no credits to refuel.”

Now you were the annoyed one. “I’m fixing your ship, Mando. You said anything but credits. My offer is passage to Hosnian Prime for the fixing of your ship.”

“How do I know you can even fix my ship? Why aren’t you the town mechanic?”

This wasn’t something you wanted to get into. You hadn’t talked about it in so long. Not since you got to Dantooine and Aliria took you in, vowing to help you back to wherever you wanted to be. “I was done being a mechanic, Mando, that’s why.”

“So you decided to work in a dingy little shop? With the galaxy’s oldest woman?”

You felt anger grow stem from the seed of annoyance. Aliria was like your grandmother. Like the whole town’s grandmother. And here comes an outsider, insulting Aliria’s shop. Aliria’s family built that town from the ground up. And this outsider insults her. “Do not speak of Aliria or her shop like that again, Mando. Or I won’t fix your ship and you’ll be stuck on Dantooine forever.”

Paz felt bad. He’d cut too deep, he’d only meant it to be a friendly dig about your job, a job most people weren’t ever satisfied with. He’d thought you’d laugh. He’d thought wrong. You walked in silence the rest of the way.

“This is your ship?” you asked. No wonder it wouldn’t get off the ground. “Maker, Mando, what have you put this thing through?” It was dented, covered in carbon scoring, and there were chunks of it missing. You could only guess how bad the inner workings were.

“A few altercations,” he replied. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he was looking at this sorry excuse for a Mandalorian’s ship with love and pride.

You laughed a little and shook your head. “I haven’t even looked at the wiring, but I think taking me to Hosnian Prime is the absolute least you could do for the work I’m going to have to do on this thing.”

“I just need it to fly,” he told you. “Nothing fancy.”

“Mando, this thing is going to pull itself apart when you try to leave the atmosphere. I’m surprised it even made it through,” you told him.

The ship always groaned a little when Paz asked it to do things, but it always had obeyed. Without fail. Until now, of course. “It did sound a bit...pained when I arrived.” He left out the whole being fired at by ex-Imps and the harsh landing he’d made that’d landed him here.

“Alright, I’ll go take a look, if that’s ok? And I’ll try to tell you when I think I’ll have it done.” He nodded, and pushed a button on his gauntlet, giving you access to the ship.

“Bad news and good news,” you told him as you reemerged from the ship. “Bad news is this is a piece of junk and you should replace it. Good news is I can fix it and it’ll only take a few days.”

A few days. He needed to get these things back to the covert, they needed them. “Ok,” he said. “But before I take you to Hosnian Prime, we’ll need to make a pit stop on Yavin IV. I gotta get these supplies back.” You nodded, just as long as you’d be getting to Hosnian Prime at some point.

“I’ll get started, if that’s ok?” He nodded and you retreated back inside. The external damage wasn’t as crucial as the internal, your job was going to be rough.

It was a long, hard rest of your day. The blasted ship held the humidity of the planet tightly and your coveralls were thick. You’d brought down the top half to tie around your waist, leaving you in your tank top and bra. You caught glimpses of the Mandalorian as you moved past the port holes, and he just sat there on a rock, not moving. All day. You couldn’t imagine the heat under that armor.

When you came out of the ship again, it was night. “I’ve made good progress. It won’t be done tomorrow, but maybe the day after. If I’m lucky, of course.” And worked almost non-stop, you silently added.

“Good,” he says. “Go home and rest, dal’ika.”

You furrowed your brow. “My name isn’t dal’ika.”

“I know,” he said, and then he moved past you onto his ship.

“Good night to you, too!” You called.

You walked to Aliria’s small home once you got back into town. She deserved to know your plans, you thought. She’d probably even help.

“Ah! Dear! You’re back!” she said. “I was worried the Mandalorian would take you, but then I figured you’d comm if he’d try anything.”

You smiled. “He didn’t do much of anything. Just sat there.”

“What did you tell him your price is, dear?”

You took a deep breath and sat on the sofa next to her. “Passage to Hosnian Prime.”

“You’re leaving?”

You nodded. “It’s time,” you said. “I have enough credits, especially since I won’t have to pay for transportation.”

“What will you do there, dear?” Aliria was worried. You were a grown woman, yes, but she felt protective.

“Find General Organa,” you said. “See if she keeps promises.” You knew she would. She always had.

Aliria gave a bittersweet smile. “I knew you’d leave someday, but I never thought of how it would feel.” Her heart was breaking, and so was yours. This woman took you in when you showed up a mess on Dantooine, she held you during nightmares, and she helped you buy the little hut you now call your own. She gave you a job and a place in the community. “You’ll do much good on Hosnian Prime, dear. I know you will.”

You didn’t know what she meant, but somehow you believed her. “Thank you, Aliria. Thank you.” You couldn’t seem to say anything else, but it wasn’t adequate to what you were feeling. You needed a stronger phrase, but you didn’t know one.

“Take care of that Mandalorian, now,” she said, trying to be a bit more lighthearted. “I’ve always thought you’d like a warrior husband.”

You rolled your eyes. All the old women in town were like this. “He barely even talks to me and calls me dal’ika instead of my name, which he hasn’t asked for, by the way.”

“He’ll warm up to you, I’m sure. Especially if he’s got to take you from here to Hosnian Prime,” Aliria said. “You didn’t talk much when you arrived, either, remember?”

Aliria always had a way of finding the good in people, even if it was hardly there. That was rare, especially this far out in the galaxy, and you cherished it. You’d learned early on not to do that, but Aliria helped you open up more. Maybe she was right, this journey would result in a new friend.

“Ok, Ali, I will take care of the Mando,” you said. “Now I think I’m going to go home. Want to be up early tomorrow to fix his ship.”

She nodded and patted your knee. “Take the speeder bike tomorrow, it seems like a long walk.” You nodded, and placed your hand over hers for a moment. “Good night, dear. Sleep well,” she said and then she shooed you out in the way only an old lady could.

The next morning it was cooler outside. The trees swayed gently in the soft wind, and you became grateful for the coveralls as you picked up speed on the bike. You looked the same as you did the day before, just a little less rested. There was a little sunlight, but not much, and there were still a few nocturnal animals on the path.

Arriving at the ship, everything was still closed up, and the big Mando nowhere in sight. You contemplated banging on the door, but before you made a decision the door lowered into a ramp and he walked out. “You’re very early, dal’ika.”

“Told you I would be. Need all the daylight I can get.”

“Indeed.”

His gaze bore down on you again. You really took in how large he was. He had to be over six feet tall and maybe even closer to seven in the armor. A few people in town speculated that he wasn’t actually as buff as he seemed and that it was just the armor, but you doubted that.

“I’ll go ahead and get started, if that’s ok?”

He nodded. “You don’t have to keep asking, dal’ika.”

“That’s still not my name,” you said in a singsong voice over your shoulder as you walked up the ramp. He walked over towards some of the denser areas of trees.

You tried to watch him as discreetly as possible through one of the port holes, but you had a suspicion that, somehow, he could tell you were watching. He walked over some of the logs of fallen trees that had piled up towards the edge of the clearing. He picked two large ones, one in each arm, and set them upright. Then, he placed the large stones on the top of and behind them to keep them standing.

He retreated a few yards, and his hands slid down to his thighs. He brought two blasters back up. Ah, you thought. Target practice.

As much as you knew you needed to begin your day’s work, you stood at the port hole and watched him fire blast after blast, and you knew he hit each spot he intended to. He moved back farther, fired some more, and then moved off at angles. You never thought you’d be attracted to a man whose face you’d never seen and name you didn’t know, but here you are.

Finally, you tore your gaze from the beskar-covered man and began your work, getting the tool box from where you’d left it yesterday.

It was noon when you walked down the ramp again. The Mandalorian had finished his shooting hours ago, and had now shed his shin and thigh armor, along with the heavy cannon he carried on his back. He was already looking at you when you stepped into the doorway.

“Need something, dal’ika?”

You shook your head. “Lunch time, Mando.” You pulled some kind of bar out of your pocket. “It’s got meiloorun filling,” you brag.

“Sounds good,” he said, a little amused at what you considered something to brag about.

You sat down on the rock opposite him. “You want one? I’ve got an extra.”

“No, thank you, dal’ika,” he replied.

You sunk your teeth into the grain and meiloorun bar, chewed, and swallowed. “What language even is that?”

“Mando’a,” he said. “The language of my people.”

“The Mandalorians?” You ask dumbly.

He let out a chuckle, it was small, but the vocoder processed it. “Yes, dal’ika, but I thought that was obvious.”

“What’s that mean? That word you’re calling me?”

He contemplated for a moment, but finally told you. “Dal’ika means woman in Mando’a. Well, dala means woman. The ‘ika bit just means it's a nickname. It implies that you’re, well, small. It’s used for kids a lot but also for friends.” He regretted saying that, in case you found it insulting or weird. He quickly moved on. “And I definitely consider you more than an acquaintance, especially since we’ll be spending some time together.”

You looked at him. You’d never thought of yourself as small. “Well, that’s good to hear. And I think everyone is small next to you, Mando.”

He laughed again, and you took another bite. “I suppose so. What is your actual name?” You tell him, and he nods. “I can call you that, if you’d like?”

“Dal’ika is fine,” you say. You’d never really had a nickname before. “But you can call me my name, too, if you want.”

“Ok, dal’ika,” he said. “Where are you from?”

You looked at him. Why all the questions? You briefly thought of home, but closed your eyes. “Rather not say.”

He nodded, understanding. “I’m sorry that I keep saying the wrong things. I really should know better, considering I don’t like too many questions, either.”

“It’s ok, it’s not like you know what will strike a cord,” you tell him. You hurriedly finished your lunch, eager to get back on the ship in case memories of home flooded back into your mind and tears flooded your eyes. “Well, I’m off,” you say, standing awkwardly and walking back to the ship, leaving the Mando by himself again.

You sat on the floor of the ship, one of the flooring panels removed, working on some wiring. In the back of your mind you saw your childhood home, the mountain peaks you could see from the backyard, and the neighbor kids that you’d played with every day after school. You remembered leaving. You remembered never being able to go back.

Your hands are still in the wire compartment in the floor. You took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and smiled to yourself. Aliria always said smiling makes you feel better. It worked, and your hands began moving again, replacing and connecting wires.

Again, it was nightfall when you came out of the ship. The Mandalorian had all his armor on again, and he stood as you emerged. “I should’ve walked you home last night, dal’ika. It was dark when you left, I’m sorry for not offering.”

You felt your heart swell a little. He was a gentle giant, you decided. “Thank you, Mando, but I can take care of myself. Besides, it’s not like there’s dangerous people here.”

“Still,” he insisted. “I should have.”

You gave up and replied, “That would’ve been a kind gesture. I would take you up on the offer tonight, but Aliria lent me her speeder, so I don’t need an escort today.”

“As you wish,” he replied. “Just be careful, dal’ika. Hosnian Prime awaits.” He walked past you and onto the ship, just like he had the night before.

The next day was almost the same, except you had to walk. Aliria needed the speeder for Zenith and supplies he was picking up from a nearby farm, but apart from that, everything was the same. You made small talk with the Mandalorian over your lunch (a star fruit bar today), and watched him shoot his blasters from afar. You got a lot of work done today, most of the hard stuff was finished and now just needed some tweaking. You moved on to the exterior of the ship a few hours before nightfall.

“Dal’ika,” he said as you started working on the exterior. “Only do what you absolutely need to on the outside. I’d hate to see your hard work go to waste when I get into another altercation.”

You nodded, but replied, “I hope you don’t plan on getting into one of your altercations while I’m aboard.”

“Well, I never really plan on them, but I’ll be extra careful if it makes you feel better,” he told you.

You smiled. “It does.”

“It’s going to get dark soon,” he said.

You nodded, opening one of the exterior panels and examining it. “I know. I just have a few more things,” you assured him. “And then I’ll take you up on your offer to walk me home.” You turned your head towards him and smiled, but what you didn’t know was that your smile brought the slightest blush to his cheeks.

Paz sat back down on his rock while you worked on the exterior. He thought about the smile you’d given him, how you weren’t afraid of him. There’s something more to this one, he thought. Something’s made her tough, and it wasn’t this village.

Finally, you finished. “Alright,” you told the Mando as you exited the ship after putting the tools up. “It should fly, but we can test that tomorrow. For now, I need to go home.”

He nodded and stood from the rock. “Lead the way, mechanic,” he said.

You walked a pace or two in front of him, even though he didn’t really need to be led to the town. It wasn’t like there were many of those around here, but he let you, and you rambled about the place with pride. About Aliria with pride.

After a few beats of silence, he spoke up. “May I ask what’s on Hosnian Prime? If you don’t want to answer, just tell me.”

“An old friend,” you said and looked back at him again. This smile was different, he noticed, but he wasn’t sure how. “I haven’t seen her in a long time, but I know she still cares.” You were telling him the truth, so why did you feel like you were lying? He didn’t need to know that General Organa was the friend or why you knew her. But you almost wanted him to know. Still, you held back.

“Oh,” he said. “Sounds nice. I’ve heard good things about Hosnian Prime.” Truthfully, he hadn’t heard anything about Hosnian Prime except that it was the new capital of the New Republic.

“I have, too,” you agreed. “What about you? What’s on Yavin IV?”

“Family,” he said. He was telling the truth, so why did he feel like he was lying? And why was he trusting you with the planet of the covert?

You nodded. “I figured, with all the baby stuff you bought. Is your wife a Mandalorian, too? I heard Mandos can only marry Mandos.”

He was shocked a little, forgetting that you didn’t know much about his culture. “No, I don’t have a wife. Or kids of my own. My Tribe is my family, and there are kids in the Tribe. They’re just not mine.”

“Oh, interesting,” you said, kicking a rock in front of you. You were surprised to find yourself relieved that he did not have a wife. “So, like, can you only marry inside your tribe?”

“No, dal’ika,” he laughed. “We’d end up with some interesting children if we kept it in the tribe. Some people marry within the tribe, some never marry, and others marry outsiders.” He didn’t really know how accurate his answer was. Maybe, in big tribes, people did just marry in the tribe. But the covert he belonged to was too small for that.

You kicked the rock again as you arrived at the place it had landed. “Huh,” you said. “Guess I never thought about that.”

“We prefer people not think about us at all,” he replied. His tone was solemn when he said this, and you instinctively placed a hand on his armored arm to comfort him. The Mandalorian was brought to a blush under his helmet again. Maker, he thought. How’s she doing this to me?

You walked into the town in comfortable silence, your arm now wrapped around his, fingers lightly rubbing the armor. It was meant as a soothing technique, but you doubt he could feel it under the layers of metal and cloth. Eventually, you neared your home. “That one’s mine,” you pointed. The house’s door was painted blue, and your flowerbed was filled with blue flowers.

“Your house matches my armor, kebiin’ika,” he said.

A new nickname. “What’s that mean?”

“Kebiin is blue. And, you know, ‘ika is ‘small’ and an endearment.”

“Little blue?” You ask.

He nodded. “Ding, ding, ding,” he said. “You’d pick up Mando’a quickly, I think.” You smiled at him, you spoke Basic and Huttese already, why not learn a third? He smiled back, though all you could see was metal and visor. “Are we leaving tomorrow?”

“Yes, I think that’d be good. Tomorrow after lunch, maybe? I’ve got to pack up my stuff and say good-bye to everyone.” He nodded. He’d forgotten that you’re leaving your life behind. “I don’t have much stuff, by the way, so don’t worry about that.”

He chuckled again. “Even if you did, I wouldn’t worry. We’d find the space.” There was a warmth in his voice that made your whole body warm. You could tell he cared about the people close to him deeply if he cared about a stranger like this.

You unlocked your door and stepped inside. You weren’t expecting a good night, as you had no reason to, but you did stop yourself from closing the door all the way.

You looked up at him through the half-open blue door. “Thank you,” you said quietly. “For walking me home. It’s very kind.”

“You deserve kindness, Y/N,” he replies, as if it was painfully obvious. Then, you realized he said your name. Your real name, not some Mandalorian nickname.

You smiled again, your lips were beginning to hurt but your face wouldn’t let you stop. “Will I ever get to know your name, Mando?”

“Someday.”

#paz vizla x reader #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizla #paz vizsla #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian fanfiction #star wars #mandalorian #Star Wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic

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ironwoman359 · 4 years ago

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Okay smart ass. How come you and the other big blogs aren't saying shit about the racism and other problematic things happening in the fandom? Specially when almost all of you were always ready to put your opinions on something as petty as fans criticizing Thomas for how he wears a skirt.

Well, I cannot speak for other ‘big blogs’ because, while I am friends with some of the people who run the blogs that you’re lumping into the ‘big’ cateogory, we are not a monolith. We don’t have a secret group chat where we all decide “today we shall talk about Thomas wearing a skirt and ignore racism on purpose.” I can offer speculation that perhaps more people quickly added their own two cents on the skirt thing because when compared to everything else that was going on in the world, both on tumblr and off it, it was such a simple thing to digest. Everyone was craving something simple at that time, so it was an easy, cathartic thing to jump in and say “hey, don’t be mean in people’s inboxes” and proceed to stop thinking about almost just as fast. Anyway, like I said, I can’t speak for other people, only for myself. So since you apparently want me to, I’ll speak for myself.

“How come you and the other big blogs aren’t saying shit about the racism...”

I am white. It is not my place to speak over poc about racism. It is my place to reblog their posts, elevating their voices without commentary. That is something that I learned this year, and it is something I intend to continue to practice. I do recall making one post in early June, about not using the b/l.m tag on fanart posts, but after seeing several poc express that they wanted white people to talk less and listen more, I elected to make no more original posts about the subject and stick to reblogging without comment. If you’re looking for some good posts about racism in the sanders sides fandom, here are a few good ones. Though most of the posts about racism that make their way across my dash and subsequently onto my blog are less fandom focused and more broad.

“...and other problematic things happening in the fandom?”

This is where I must repeat what I said the other day; this could relate to any NUMBER of things, and unless you are more specific I have no idea what you’re talking about. Are you talking about callouts for specific creators? There were two that happened over the summer that I know about, but A) again, those were about racism, so I chose not to muddle the conversation with my voice, and B) the works being discussed in those situations were works I was personally unfamiliar with, and thus did not feel like I had enough information to state an opinion publically (which again, as I understand it, would have been unneccessary additions to an issue I have no authority to speak on).

So maybe you’re talking about the Twitter callouts, or the situation with the artists for the Storytime Madlibs video? Again, I felt as though I lacked sufficient need/information to make any statements about those issues. I have a twitter, but I barely use it, and don’t use it for the fander community at all. I had NO IDEA what any of that stuff people were talking about was, and still don’t, and since I don’t use Twitter and am not in that community, it seemed pointless to speak about. That is not to trivialize any hurt or harm that was caused or experienced during those events, just to say that I have nothing to do with them, which is why there’s nothing about it on my blog. (The joke I made about fandom twitter was supposed to be universal and relate to how all the twitter discourse these days seems to be a rehash of tumblr discourse from five years ago. Bad timing on my part I guess, oh well.) And, being 100% honest here, I don’t think I even watched the Storytime Madlibs video. If i did, I don’t remember much about it. I know that when it came out that the artists were underpaid, I reblogged one or two posts about how content creators should not be put on pedestals and are not perfect, but the rest of that situation was centered around the artists involved in that video, and since I was not one of them nor did I know any of them personally, it seemed like something that again, I shouldn’t bring up because I didn’t know anything about it. From what I understand, a solution is/was being worked out, but I haven’t heard anything recently.

Or by ‘problematic things’ do you mean the existence of remrom, or unsympathetic sides, or how I’ve been in this fandom for over 3 years and our anon hate problem has never gone away, or the rampant purity culture, or the pervasive ageism, or literally a dozen other things, some of which are genuine issues and some of which are simply differing opinions being handled with all the grace of an elephant on roller skates? I’ve said it over and over again on this blog, but this fandom is not perfect. No fandom is perfect, but this one in particular has a reputation for being ‘pure’ and ‘wholesome’ for some reason; a reputation that it has never upheld by the way, because, shocker, fandoms are made of humans, and humans are not flawless porcelein dolls. We’re incredibly flawed creatures, and mistakes are inevitable. The sooner we all accept that and start treating our mistakes as an opportunity to learn and grow and do better next time instead of a signal that we were always worthless pieces of garbage that had no chance to do anything other than fuck up, the better off we’ll all be.

And may I reiterate: look outside this website for a minute. There is SO MUCH going on in the world right now, every single one of us is utterly exhausted, we are suffering from a massive traumatic event, several massive traumatic events at once, actually, forgive me if my attention is spread a little thin at the moment.

I’ll readily admit, there have been posts in the past several months that I’ve seen, read, and then not reblogged. Often this is because I feel as though the post that I am seeing does not have the full picture, and that it would be irresponsible to reblog only that part of the ‘discourse.’ And most of the time, I just don’t have the mental energy to go looking for the full story on whatever the Issue of the Week is. And I shouldn’t have to. Because at the end of the day, what I put on my own blog is my business, and no one else’s. There’s not some rule list that magically appears once you pass 1,000 followers that tells you what you must and must not do as a blogger. I am not required to weigh in on every little thing that happens in this fandom just because a lot of people in it follow me, and in fact, NO ONE is obligated to reblog something regardless of how many followers they have. If you are dissatisfied with the posts I make and/or reblog, you’re welcome to unfollow, there’s no rule that says you have to stay. But my energy is so limited these days, and I’m not going to devote what little free time and headspace I have to figuring out the ‘Correct’ take on fandom discourse.

I’d like to end by once again reiterating what many have said beffore, that racism is not the same thing as fandom discourse. It is always my goal to not speak over the voices of poc, and if in this post I have done that in any way, I’d like to apologize. Poc are welcome to DM me so that we can discuss it in any such instance, whether on this post or any other from the past or that comes up in the future. I am still working on unlearning racism, and know I am likely to make many more missteps on that journey. Stay safe out there everyone.

#taylor talks #fanders #fandom discourse #racism tw #longpost #ask to tag #asks and answers

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imdreaminadream · 4 years ago

Text

The results pt 2 ~ what about it makes you cringe?” Category 3

( - prologue. - part 1 - category 1 - category 2 )

Okay so this is the results to the question in the quiz, What about it makes you cringe. In reference to the questionnaires core subject about smut fanfics.

Also quick psa there will be a part for the results for the other question - “In kpop fics, Korean words i.e. jagiya, seem to be a no no, would you like to elaborate why?”

Now note these particular results are going to be split into 3 posts because I decided to split the results into 3 categories. 1 - Writing Aspects. 2 - Personal Preferences. 3 - Genuine Problems. >This post is category 3<

TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR MENTIONS OF - rape, minors engaging in sex, child pornography, childhood trauma, unsafe bdsm/kinky sex, misogyny?, toxic masculinity? anything else that needs to be tagged message me so I can add them.

DISCLAIMER BELOW. (please read that before continuing)

This is going to be a long post. The responses were very enlightening but please don’t take this as an attack. Consider this more as constructive cheat sheet to good smut writing or just ignore it if you don’t agree with it. Some of this did a bit deep apricate trigger warnings will be put on the appropriate posts but I’m not sorry it got deep fics can also affect real life as much as we wish it were something that didn’t mix in with real life, it does. I’m no official like sex guru or big-time writer, or what ever BUT I did add little advice underneath each answer, which are just a reflection of the people’s answers. Again if you don’t like the sounds of this don’t take it personal and click off.

Genuine problems

Rape territory - There was a common theme of people commenting about what is essentially edging into rape territory. This was talked about with both sexes, where one expresses, they’re not in the mood but the other just continues to make advances on them until they end up having sex. Everyone who spoke about it mentioned it comes across as coercive or forceful (which would be dubious consent, but I personally know how no one tags it as that because they don’t realize.) something that makes them immediately stop reading and knocks an author’s credit in their eyes. When a character is crying as though they’re not enjoying it, but the sex doesn’t stop and there is not safe word that is used.

No advice for this just use common sense.

Lack of tags which indicate trigger/content warnings - This only came up a handful of times but considering its importance I added it in here to talk about. The comments about it were straight forward as is the topic. Some authors aren’t tagging their work appropriately and it’s actually quite dangerous. You tag your work for a reason to let people know what is involved in it before they read, tagging everything is crucial. If something isn’t tagged you risk the reader, at the very least, the reading but then feeling discontent because it had something in they don’t like to read. Then at the worst you risk people’s mental health, you risk them having panic attacks, anxiety attacks because their trigger was in your fic but they didn’t know because it wasn’t tagged for them to see and know not to read because it could trigger them.

Advice for this is to bold things which you know for sure are sensitive topics, and make sure to tag everything in your damn fucking tag section. You risk people having panic attacks when you don’t tag your work right and they read your work only to find out it has their trigger included in it being blindsided because after reading your shitty tags they didn’t know but you put it in there. Also please don’t just tag smut, tag everything included in that smut because something works are tagged smut and then next thing you know person b is being choked, clothes cut by a knife, restrained with rope, told they’re a slut/whore.

They’re a minor - This also only came up a handful of times, not because people don’t care but probably because they don’t commonly come across it enough however this is incredibly important topic even outside of what about smut makes you cringe. This shouldn’t be a problem, as in it shouldn’t be happening as the people who commented, me and all of you know. They’re a minor, under 18, they’re technically still considered child in the law’s eyes anything sexual about them, like writing smut about them would be considered child pornography. “Things that persons under 18 are prohibited from doing - being depicted in pornographic materials.” No one even cares about “but I’m the same age as them uwu.” It still doesn’t make it right so don’t try and use excuses. Also, the minute a person turns 18 if your first thought is oh, I can write smut about them or request someone to write it for me please just leave that’s like preying on them as though you counted down till they were 18 and now the only value you see in them is for sex.

Mine and everyone else’s advice DON’T FUCKING DO IT.

Also, to note I don’t know what the official rules are for age swapping so like writing an adult person as a minor and depicting them in smut materials, to cope with your trauma, would anyone be open to talking to me about it, like educating me? There has just been this sudden wave more fics being, it’s okay to write adult that I made a child in my fic engaging in sexual content because it helps me cope with my trauma. It just seems everyone’s started saying that and I don’t know how many are being genuine or using it as an excuse or gone with the flow treated it like a trend. Not to be rude just genuinely how legit is this? How many people who write it have genuinely experienced that trauma? P.s if you have experienced that trauma, I am genuinely so sorry and know I am not disrespecting or invalidating your trauma I promise.

Female Characters/misogyny? - Now what this means is everyone expressed how they hate the constant portrayal that it only takes seconds for a female to reach an orgasm and she already wet to go like some kind of tap. They also highlighted a big problem with constantly painting the female as this innocent, dainty, dumb, naïve, shy, small, little girl. Women have brains too; women can give as good as they get and aren’t these shy naïve little playthings. All women have different personalities, the stereotypes about women in fics I’ve seen through the answers, and myself in fics, to my questionnaire is upsetting everyone. And you can see why, is it not bad enough we are subjected to misogyny and stereotyped in real life but now we have to see it in fics too. It genuinely does make people stop reading, it makes them cringe as the answers have suggested. One person mentioned this in their response, and I feel it should also be included, “y/n is absolutely okay with everything being done to her.” This isn’t something we should ever hear. This category feels like the right category to mention it so just consider their words, consider why that makes them cringe at smut writing that includes that.

To everyone the advice is a no brainer when you look at the responses. Make sure that the female character is actually getting turned on like into the mood before even thinking about mentioning that she is wet. And consider that a lot of statistics and personal experiences of other women stating it’s not all that easy to orgasm during sex, and not typical for her to come before the male, so make it sound like it’s worth the female characters while not that they do it for 3 minutes and suddenly she is coming.

Please also STOP with the constant bullshit of stereotyping of women as exampled above. If you like to feel small or submissive or whatever in the bedroom and you express that in your fics I get you but that does not mean you have to portray the female character as dumb, naïve, small, weak like for the love of god spice it up a bit, make her powerful, clever, with personality etc.… being in charge of her own body, knowing about her body, and what she wants and how to get it.

Btw no one is saying it’s not okay to be shy and that before you come in here like “why are you shaming shy, or small girls or dd/lg kink,” it’s not that I can assure you. We’re talking about the stereotype of it that is used to make the women seem more pliable for the man to control essentially not the genuine personalities/kinks people have.

Very passive sub female reader and overly dom male - Now many people spoke how an over macho dom male, and a passive - made out like they’re dumb, submissive female is a dynamic that is making them cringe now. It’s not a dynamic they care for anymore, and I agree with them especially considering the issues it brings about. “ Whenever the female reader is extremely passive and shy/flustered whereas the idol/character is extremely assertive/condescending/dominating/leading everything in comparison.” There is a personal preference to this yes# people acknowledged this, however when talking about this dynamic they further explained the issues with it. Overly passive female has already been touched on but to reiterate the replies insinuated they’re sick of seeing women in fics treated how they are in real life essentially – like some dumb little girl. One person said, “I like when the girl can give as good as she gets, though that’s just my preference.” So, like what has been discussed before this portrayal of females it absolute bullshit and needs to fucking stop being such a constant portrayal. (mind break is different so don’t start)

Then for the male side of things it’s enforcing the stereotype men are macho an alpha male, they don’t have feelings they just think with their dick and have all grr I’m super toxically manly do you ever lift bro, I’m so strong, I get all the bitches, fuck all the girls, the have control over the passive female and not in a consenting way, in an entitled way. Which no, they can have feelings, they can be softer more feminine all whilst still identifying as a man. They can be submissive just as much as a anyone else, they can be a switch or just a dom that isn’t this macho, macho, man. They can be needy, loving, caring, in touch with themselves, their feelings and everything the female character is made out to be, apart from dumb, naïve and weak of course, yano all those negative things any gender and non-gender people want to be associated with. If the guy wants to get railed by the female and be the sub in the dynamic of male x female, then fair enough let it happen there isn’t nothing wrong with it.

All in all, it’s okay for males to be more feminine than masculine and females more masculine than feminine. It’s okay to portray that in fics genuinely. I wouldn’t say I have any advice for this other than the obvious no more macho man and passive females.

Use of Korean words. - If you’re not a Korean person don’t think you’re in the right to argue about this. The Korean people have spoken up and you will listen and respect them. Know this is an important topic, however there will be a separate post for this, so I’ll keep this bit short to then expand on more in the separate post. Just wanted to make you the reader aware that this is an issue. It’s not okay to be treating noona, unnie and oppa like a kink if you are not Korean, or have Korean heritage. The people who are Korean so kindly explained, it was a normal word for them like just another part of their culture until bad egg kpop fans got their hands on it and they have now sexualized it to the point where some Korean people do not feel comfortable to even use it without thinking of the sexual connotation it has now been given.

Now like I said I will talk further about that and more, to do with the use of Korean words in fics, in another post, I don’t already have that post drafted so it might take a while to get out and post. However in that time I’m gladly open to hearing more people who are Korean and have Korean heritage, views on this. Or if you too have experience with a word from your language having been taken from being an innocent word to now having a sexual connotation as well because of people not from your country/culture having given it that sexual meaning. It could be helpful to further emphasis the point about the Korean words but also show overall no matter the language/country that it’s making the people of that country/culture uncomfortable.

Also I hope it doesn’t come across like I’m trying to speak over Koreans. If anything i want to be helpful more than a hinderance. This was something that was spoken about on the questionnaire so I’m just writing what the Korean people have expressed about it in the questionnaire. I want to be able to give their voices from the questionnaire a platform and shed light on this situation, with them.

Also can I ask if gender is a factor in this as well? I’ve seen on tiktok where some Korean guys like being called oppa but I’m not sure if that's in a respectful light or a sexual light, if they were being sarcastic for the Korea-boos or? but i have never seen women say they like being called noona in a way that comes across as a turn on? So can anyone comment on that? send me anons pls.

Too much degradation - Of course everyone who has mentioned this has said it is quite a personal preference thing, the acknowledge that it’s a kink not for everyone. Although on the flip side them relentlessly mentioning it give the feel that it’s becoming more of a problem and less of it’s okay it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. You see they exampled “bitch, slut, whore.” It’s so commonly used, and they even said how they’re finding it not tagged majority of the time, so seeing that surprisingly in the fics constantly it makes them cringe but it’s not a type of thing one can get over it’s apparent it’s becoming a slight problem. It begs the question how much degradation is too much, why is it constantly being used in fics? Does everyone love labeling the female y/n a bitch, whore, slut? Why is the male y/n never called a slut as much as female y/n? Do females have more of a degradation kink than men?

I can’t think of any advice to give based on the feedback, apart from obviously add it to your tags that there is a lot of degradation but it there is anything anyone else wants to add on this topic feel free to re-blog with your take or send me anons.

Describing features on a y/n fic - A few people have mentioned this, and I categorized it as a problem because well it is because not only does it make them cringe in smut fics but also in normal fics and poc feel oppressed in yet another way. When it’s written as y/n it’s supposed to allow the reader to insert themselves into the fic to imagine themselves in there, yet it’s not always done like that. As one of the responses said, it seems authors like that tend to project themselves or their ideal selves onto y/n physical feature wise. More often than not as the responses have indicated y/n is portrayed as cis female, white, blonde, blue eyes, other physical traits such as breast size, dick size body type, height and hair length are portrayed too, which pulls the readers out of imagining because they’re being told they have features they don’t. It’s especially bad for poc because their race never gets portrayed in fics, so it gives the message white race is the most favorable and we already know how racist the world is no need to bring it into fics either unknowingly or purposely.

Moral of the story, stop racism, end it. Go educate yourself.

Moral of the story, in regard to fics, well don’t describe y/n thoroughly. Instead leave it as vague as possible, I mean it’s not even needed to know what eye colour y/n has when they’re in the middle of getting railed.

Quick intermission to just say make sure you tag what gender and pronouns y/n has for your fic, so people are fully aware what y/n they’re getting in this fic.

Nor do we need to know what skin colour they have, it can easily be mentioned that a character is touching y/n’s body without saying they have milky skin indicating they’re white. It is very possible to not give y/n a race. Also, height, keep height out of it don’t describe it because not everyone is 5’2. (hello yes, I’m 5’10 so imagine me reading character a of height 5’8 towering over me, I mean maybe if they wear heels yes but otherwise no.) Similarly, don’t ever describe body types, you can say an outfit flatters a person’s figure without describing it, people can have sex without their body being specifically described i.e., slim figure, toned shapely legs. Please understand that by not describing y/n you’re helping to contribute to racism, and these wacky beauty standards that are already being forced onto us in the real world never mind the fictional world.

Lack of safe word - Following on from kinks not being portrayed correctly there is the issue of lack of safe word. Now this is something that again didn’t come up quite a lot but that doesn’t mean it’s not an issue. Some are writing fics where one of the people involved, are being railed to high hell and it’s kinky as fuck or you’re writing a BDSM specific fic. Which is okay we are not judging or shaming but it’s concerning how with all this type of sex being had there is no even slight mention of the pairing having a safe word which is has the name would imply really important. It is there to keep the people participating in this kinky sex safe, without that it’s really harmful. Now if you think oh but writing in the discussion of safe words is really unsexy, especially when I’m just trying to make the characters fuck really kinky, then please go educate yourself. Safe words are incredibly sexy when you know it means you get to have bomb ass kinky sex but know that you can also have boundaries that should and will be respected, and a word or system i.e. traffic light system, to pause or stop when ever you need to in order to keep the kinky sexy safe.

The obvious advice is to incorporate consent and knowledge of safe word in your fic. It can be as simple as writing that the characters stop a minute for person a saying to person b you know your safe word. And then writing a small mini paragraph of person b feeling even more in love and/or turned on because their boundaries are being respected. Then you just carry on with writing the smut. You can imply easily that they have a safe word, that it’s been discussed, therefore they’re gong to be safe, respected and made to feel good.

Also, I know there are some people out there who are, a bit unsure on writing a fic in which one person uses their safe word. This is your friendly supportive message to just do it, don’t be afraid of what others think, do it for you it’s something great to write. There are many different ways you can go with it, so you do it if you want to 😊.

Honorable mentions of things that make the people cringe.

(Not a problem just as we are at the end of this category I figured I’d put honorable mentions. disclaimer again, these are other people’s comments from the questionnaire. You are entitled not to agree with them however do not attack me as some have been doing.)

fetishize people’s gender or race/ethnicity

uneducated use of other cultures to make it look authentic

Use of the word plum when they mean plump. One’s a fruit/colour, the other means having a full rounded shape.

PICK ME Y/N (we all know the type)

Stereotypes of all kinds. Of people, phrases, troupes etc.….

Written in a way it sounds monotone. i.e., “He did this, he did that, I did this.”

When all y/n does during a smut scene is whine. There are other synonyms people.

infantilization of y/n. stop making me feel like the person who the fic is about, is a nonce.

y/n is constantly oh so innocent. Like they can be a virgin don’t get it wrong. BUT we all know 9 times out of 10 y/n reads fanfic so they ain’t innocent.·

no refractory period.

try hard humour in the middle of smut.

terrible euphemisms

proper unrealistic dick sizes

adding in smut into a plot where it doesn’t fit

try hard

more to come potentially?

END OF CATERGORY 3

(Feel free to discuss in comments, in my messages or send anons or anything like that if you want.)

@nctsworld @lauraneuuh @jooniyah

Tag list:

@ceoofxiaojun @lovemayble @myelle-n

(@smutwritingpolice) (@smutwhy)

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whumpzone · 4 years ago

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Tomas and Rowe - Part 7

look at me smashing out chapter 7 ahead of schedule !! but I’m gonna reiterate again that uni is starting up, so updates may begin to slow down. with that said, please enjoy!

Masterpost

taglist: @sola-whumping @just-another-whumper @oceanthesarcasamfox @looptheloup @briars7 @black-polarf @zipadeedooda-drabbles @just-a-raccoon-with-wifi @rosesareviolentlyread @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jazz-0307 @kestrelsparverius @whumpsy-daisies @whumpersworld @memoriesneverforget @sky-or-something-idfk (just ask if you want to be tagged!)

CW: pet whump, general violence, mentions of self-harm (but not actual), dehumanisation

And then Kasia would come again. He seemed to always know when Master was out of the house. It was no different today.

"Hello, pet," Kasia said. Rowe didn’t look up, instead sliding silently to his knees. Kasia had him well taught already. "You may speak, this time."

"Thank you, sir." Rowe’s stomach felt hollow with fright. Every time Kasia appeared he was unprepared. He always seemed to arrive just as Rowe had started feeling calm. Maybe even settled. But the minute he heard that voice he felt like he’d just been caught doing something awful. And this was all so wrong! This wasn’t his Master; he shouldn’t be grovelling like this. He was Master Tomas’s property. It went against all of Rowe’s training to let Kasia treat him like his Pet.

But… what could he do?

The gentle rattle of metal brought Rowe back. He mechanically pulled his t-shirt off and didn’t resist as Kasia put the handcuffs on, securing his hands in front of him, hanging between his hip bones.

"Tight enough?"

This was a game. Rowe could win this one. Kasia played it every time. "No, sir. Not yet." He gritted his teeth as the cuffs ground deeper into his wrists, hissing quietly, but it was certainly better than making Kasia angry.

"How are things going with Tomas? Are you being good for him?"

This was a game Rowe couldn’t win. "I- I am b-being good."

"Mm?"

"I’m being good," he said, clearer. "H-he’s gone out for grocer-"

A smack on the head made his thoughts whirl. "He?"

"M-master! Master To-omas, Master Tomas h-as gone out for groceries."

Another smack. "Stop panicking. You’re so damn annoying. And yeah, I know. He told me he always goes the same time each week so you won’t freak out so much. So lucky for you, he hasn’t twigged that it’s not him leaving that gets you messed up, so much as it’s me coming over. But-"

Kasia grabbed Rowe’s chin and hauled him to his feet. "You’re still giving him trouble. All your trembles and flinches and-" He flung a hand at Rowe’s face, stopping a hair’s breadth from his healing nose. Rowe couldn’t help but jerk away with a gasp. "-all that. So you see? You’re not being good. You’re being a fucking pain."

"I’m s-sorry-"

"No you’re not," Kasia said, matter-of-factly. "But you will be."

The knife trailed casually along Rowe’s collarbone. Tiny threads of blood ran down his chest, which was rising and falling normally. His back was perfectly straight against the chair.

"That’s good. Stay nice and calm for me."

"Yes, sir."

"Tomas needs a Pet that doesn’t cry all the time. You don’t want to stress your Master out, do you?"

"N-no, sir, no."

Kasia dragged the knife along to Rowe’s shoulder, digging it in deeper as he cut down his arm. Rowe focused on being blank, and obedient, and keeping his breathing calm, and not making any noise, and not pulling a face, and definitely not crying. He could do this. The knife was momentarily taken away from his skin, leaving the cut to fill itself up with blood.

"Does it hurt, pet?"

"That doesn’t matter, sir."

"Good boy."

Kasia kept his eyes firmly on Rowe’s face and slashed his forearm without warning, watching for any sign of pain or fear. Rowe steeled himself. He wouldn’t give it to him. He let the adrenaline of the sudden cut overcome the pain.

Kasia frowned, clearly hoping that Rowe would falter. He swung the knife viciously along Rowe’s bicep, then another above his bellybutton, then another frighteningly close to his neck- but Rowe was being good-, then another diagonally across his chest. Kasia stood, the knife hanging by his side, taking heavy breaths as he watched Rowe. By now, blood was running down Rowe’s upper body in rivulets, seeping into the waistband on his shorts and dripping off the end of his fingertips.

"You look creepy."

Somehow, this hurt more than being told he looked ugly, like Kasia usually did. "I’m sorry, sir."

Rowe felt a lump in his throat as he swallowed, and a new prickle of fear took over him. He couldn’t cry, he’d made it this far, Kasia couldn’t see him cry. He knew being obedient wasn’t enough to earn him any mercy- Pets were made to take pain, they didn’t deserve pity. He had to be perfect, and then maybe he’d only be hurt a little bit. He took a breath, and the way it hitched made his heart sink.

"What’s this?" Rowe screwed his eyes shut and bowed his head, but Kasia delicately placed the bloody knife under Rowe’s chin and lifted his face up. "Look at me, pet."

When Rowe opened his eyes all he could see were watery shapes- a blink sent tears running down his cheeks. Kasia clicked his tongue. "I’m disappointed."

Rowe whimpered. "I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-"

This man wasn’t even his owner, but displeasing him meant more pain. Sure enough, Kasia dug the knife into Rowe’s thigh, slowly pulling it down until he reached his knee. The cut was perfectly straight. Rowe braced himself as Kasia lifted the knife, but he wasn’t prepared for it to nudge itself back into his leg, starting at the top of the cut and following it down, pressing a little deeper.

"You want forgiveness?" Kasia asked calmly.

Rowe’s breathing was becoming desperate, and he couldn’t suppress a whine as he opened his mouth to speak. "Hh- yes, yes, please-"

"Beg for it then. Be a good pet and beg."

"Please," Rowe gasped. This felt all too familiar. "Please, sir, s-sir, I’m s-sorry-"

"What are you sorry for?"

"Not good enough."

"I’m so-sorry f-for being such a b…bad pet! I’m sorry f-for crying," Rowe whimpered as the knife started its journey down the cut again. The pain made his limbs shake, only aggravating the cut further. "Agh- please!"

"Please- sir- I know I’m worthless, I- ah! B-B-But I w-want to be better- so please- f-forgive me…"

"And?"

"And- I, I, uh- agh!" Rowe cried out as the knife twisted in his leg, forcing his words out faster, "Ah, ah, th-thank you, sir, thank you f-for teaching me, I n-needed this, I’m- ah! I’m grateful!"

The knife stopped, but Kasia stayed silent, so Rowe continued. "I’ll b-be good, I’ll be quiet, I w-w-won’t inconvenience Master Tomas, so tha-ank you, thank you sir, th-this is what I deserve as a pet…"

He chanced a glance at Kasia’s face as he pulled the blade away. He was looking at his watch, frowning. "Time for me to go."

Rowe whimpered as Kasia moved around the unclip the handcuffs. Please, at least tell me that was good, tell me I did it right, tell me I begged the way you wanted, tell me I’m good, I’m good, I’m good…

…

The house smelt strongly of bleach. Tomas winced, kicking his shoes off in the entrance. "Only me, Rowe!" he called. Not five seconds later there was a small figure kneeling at his feet, forehead to the floor.

"Welcome back, Master."

"Hey pal. Up you get, I need your help with the shopping."

As the pair set the groceries down on the kitchen counter, Tomas wrinkled his nose again. "What have you been doing in here?"

Rowe looked up with frightened eyes. He hates being questioned, mused Tomas. Always thinks he’s done something wrong. "I- I was cleaning the furniture, Master. I th-thought it might please you."

"It does," he reassured. "It smells very fresh in here. And since you cleaned it, you might as well get to enjoy it, hm?"

"My…my place is at my Master’s f-"

"I know," Tomas held up a hand to stop him. "I’m not testing you. But a lot of pets are allowed on furniture." Well, my mate lets her dog up on the sofa. That’s close enough, right?

"O-oh, really, Master?" Rowe asked with a glint of hope, before freezing up again, "I mean! I’m n-not questioning you, Master, I d-d-didn’t mean that!"

"It’s okay. Yes, really. You don’t need to ask for permission- from now on, you’re allowed, okay?"

"Yes, Master."

"Now, let’s unload all this food, yeah?"

Tomas rummaged in one of the bags, bringing out a packet of cheese. He handed it to Rowe, underlining a word with his finger. "What does this say? Take your time."

Rowe’s lips moved silently as he sounded out the letters. "Ch…cheddar."

"Well done! That was so good! Want to try another?"

"Yes please, Master."

"Good! Now, I’ve got one I need to write down. It’s a whole sentence, but I think you’re ready."

Tomas looked back at the shopping. What was easy to read? What was pronounced phonetically? He didn’t worry that Rowe obviously already knew what everything was called- he was so keen to learn properly he wouldn’t dare lie. Eventually he handed him a small spice jar.

"Puh- ah- pap- r…rika. Ah! Paprika?"

Tomas smiled as he quickly scribbled the words on the side of the paper bag, keeping his handwriting neat and even.

"Try that."

Rowe brushed his hair out of his face and leant in. "My name is Rowe. Hello, Tomas."

"Hello, Rowe!"

Rowe took a step back with a jolt, looking up at him uncertainly. "I- I- I didn’t mean to- to address you w-without your proper title, Master."

"And yet you just did."

Rowe quaked, shrinking away from him, but Tomas forced himself to be steadfast. Come on Rowe, you can do this.

"You were. You’re being good. You’re still being good."

"I’m sorry! I d-didn’t- I didn’t me-mean to, I w-was doing what y-y-you asked Master…"

"Th-then…"

"Try saying my name again."

"T- T- T… I can’t," Rowe whispered, "I d-d-don’t want to be hit."

"I won’t hit you. It’s okay. I’m not your old master."

"I w-was trained to always address my Master properly."

"I know," soothed Tomas, not stopping to think too hard on what Rowe’s ‘training’ entailed, "I know being here is confusing. Can you just try, one more time?"

"T- Tomas…" he forced out, ducking his head and bracing himself. Tomas reached out and Rowe flinched, violently, before seeming to catch himself and force himself to stay still. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from trembling, even as Tomas gently rested his hand on the side of Rowe’s head, rubbing his thumb up and down. It took a few seconds, but Rowe leaned into the touch, his breathing coming under control again.

"There, that was really good. Well done, Rowe. I know that was hard for you."

"Master?"

"It’s okay, it’s okay. We can work on that. For now, I think your reading is coming along just fine. I’m very happy with you."

"You… you are?"

"Mmhm. Now, let’s finish putting this stuff away. I have some work to get on with."

Tomas’s smile vanished as he closed the office door. He hadn’t been imagining it. He’d kept calm, and casual, but there were definitely cuts on Rowe that hadn’t been there when he left. They were hard to miss, long searing red slices poking out from his white t-shirt and the bottom of his shorts.

He ran a hand through his hair, pulling on a curl by his ear. What to do, what to do? How had he got those?

He remembered a horror film he’d seen once where a woman had lived in captivity for so long that she kept harming herself even after she was freed, because living without constant pain was too unnatural for her. Had Rowe given himself those cuts? Had he- Tomas’s eyes widened- had he also broken his own nose? Was he that desperate for punishment that he was willing to punish himself?

His panic rose as he realised Rowe could be doing that right now. What was he thinking, making Rowe call him by his name? It was far too early for that, he was still learning it was okay to sit on the damn sofa, Christ alive Tomas.

He rushed back downstairs to keep an eye on Rowe. He had to figure out a way to stop this.

#tomas and rowe #whump #whump fic #pet whump #dehumanisation #master/pet #pet whumpee #begging #aftermath of torture

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thorne93 · 4 years ago

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History Repeats (Part 1)

Prompt: Life’s hard, right? Well throw in a not so great job, a broken heart, and chasing a pipe dream in LA. But could someone come along to make all the bad shit disappear? Or is he just another heartbreak waiting around the bend?

Warnings: language, drug addiction, alcohol addiction, angst/heartbreak

Word Count: 1562

Note: Aesthetic made by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo because she’s absolutely amazing Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo . Brainstorming from @carryonmyswansong

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“I wanted a room with two queens and an east facing window!” the woman with short, curled hair informed for the tenth time, her face already beet red as she yelled at you.

“Ma’am, I am sorry. I see we booked you with two queens and you’ll be on our seventh floor, with a south facing window,” you started to explain calmly.

“Does south sound like east to you? Jesus Christ, where do they hire you lazy brats?” she asked.

Your poker face didn’t waiver though. You didn’t close your eyes, or take a deep breath, or shake your head slightly. You continued to smile and apologize.

“You’re absolutely right, ma’am. But with the awards in the city and the influx of visitors for the winter--”

“I don’t care if all of Europe is here, I booked this trip over three months ago! My room should be available to me now!” she shouted, causing other patrons in the nearly full lobby to stare at the two of you.

That was the good and bad thing about being a hotel right outside the city center, just on the outskirts. You didn’t get entirely booked a lot, but on rare occasions you did, it meant something.

You had been asked to step in for your coworker Danielle, when the woman found out she wasn’t on an east facing window. You’d been going back and forth with her for over twenty minutes now, her screaming in your face. This wasn’t super atypical as a hotel manager. Angry patrons of the hotel, confused guests, exhausted tourists, frustrated honeymooners...It was your job to ensure every stay here was a pleasant one, and you did want that. Why wouldn't you? But on some days, people like Mrs. Taucht here really wore on your nerves. Why did people have to be so cruel and mean when all you were doing was trying to provide them with excellent service?

Smiling your best customer smile, you offered sweetly, “I am terribly sorry. I can refund you some of your money and perhaps you could take the south facing room, and as soon as an east facing room is available I’ll inform you.”

“Some?! Some of my money?” she shrieked, shaking her head. “I want all of my money back and free room service! This is absolutely ridiculous.” She turned to look to another guest waiting to check in. “Do you believe this?” she asked him, and you’d been so preoccupied focusing on her, you hadn’t noticed that the lobby was so getting backed up. You quickly turned to Danielle.

“Open up check in five, and start taking everyone from this line immediately. Check everyone in as fast as you can,” you quietly spoke to her as Mrs. Taucht ranted to the man in the line behind her.

Danielle nodded and waved everyone over from your line, telling them that she could help them at the end of the counter, while Todd, Eric, and Trish helped as quickly as they could on their lanes.

“Actually, I can,” the man with golden hair responded politely. “I’ve been to this city many times and you wouldn’t believe how crowded it can get and how fast,” he informed.

“But I made these reservation months ago,” she reiterated.

“Well, with all respect, ma’am, you do have a room,” the guest retorted. “It’s just not the one you wanted. If I were you, I would ask for a full refund of your room, take that, and go the room they have booked for you. I would prefer any room, to standing here in the lobby, shouting at the manager…But that’s just me.”

Mrs. Taucht stared at the man, then turned back to you slowly. “What he said,” she sighed. “Can you give me the full refund and forget the room?”

“Absolutely, ma’am. It was our mistake, and I do apologize. I will throw in free breakfast every day for your stay, for your patience and understanding. Is that alright?”

She nodded her head side to side. “I would say that’s fair. Thank you.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I will get to work on this refund for you, and it’ll be settled when you leave, okay?” you sweetly said.

“Alright.”

At that, she took her things and left, heading for the elevators to the rooms. You wanted to take a deep breath, but refrained, trying to keep composure for the nice guest that was next.

“Just a moment, sir, let me enter some notes for her account,” you said politely before clacking in all the notes for you to finish later tonight. “I deeply apologize for that. I know you’ve been waiting and now you’re about to wait more.” You let a small laugh out, hoping to lighten the mood.

“I’m in no rush, besides, you’ve got your hands full,” he said with a sideways grin. He was rather handsome, now that he was closer. Warm, brown eyes, dark blonde hair, a reserved smile...But something about him seemed familiar. He had said he stayed in the city a lot. Maybe he’d checked in once before. But...his face didn’t look like one you’d forget.

“You noticed that, hmm?” you asked with a bigger laugh.

“Hard to miss,” he remarked.

“Too true. Thank you, for putting in a good word for me, there, by the way,” you said. This random man had no reason to stick up for you or make your job or day easier.

“Oh it was nothing. I was just trying to get her to move so I could get checked in,” he said evenly.

The humor whisked away from you as you nodded, realizing he wasn’t really helping you.

“Right,” you concurred, as you finished up the notes, your eyes shooting down to the computer screen.

He leaned forward and smiled at you. “I’m joking. I was happy to help.”

Your eyes flitted back up to him as a giant grin spread across your face. This was new for you, unusual. People didn’t really go out of their way to help you. You were a bit of a wallflower all your life. Not an outcast, but not the brightest star. You were the girl that no one picked out of a crowd. You were the girl that was overlooked, rather than looked over. It wasn’t so much your looks, you’d always felt you looked average. But that was the problem: you were average. Average looks, average grades, average car, average education. Nothing about you was stellar.

Maybe that’s why Jason had left. Your boyfriend of two years had decided to dump you five days ago, just after the new year. What a way to kick it off…

“Well thank you, again. What name is your reservation under?” you asked as you queued to the page to look up check ins.

“Hayden...Christensen,” he warmly informed, seeming to hesitate though.

You smiled and nodded. “Ah. Found you. Two queens, sixth floor, room 602. Is that alright?”

“As long as it has a bed and a TV, I could care less,” he said with a shrug and a smile.

“Simple man?” you lightly inquired as you got out his room keys and began to scan the code to them.

“Relatively,” he replied with another shrug. “You? Simple woman?” he asked.

“In some ways, yeah, I’d like to think so,” you said, contemplating.

“And in others?” he inquires.

“Well...none of us are simple, are we?” you questioned, a bit of ominimity in your voice.

He nodded slightly. “I suppose that’s true.”

You stared at him a moment longer, not exactly realizing you were staring until it became awkward and you realized you needed to hand him the room keys and information.

“Ah! Here are your keys, here is a brochure to the spa, restaurants, and room service. Here is the number to the concierge, the manager--me, and the hotel operator,” you said, pointing at everything with a pen.

“Thank you very much,” he said, taking his cards and the pamphlet.

“Any time, sir. I’m Y/N if you need anything, or if you need a manager, feel free to give me a call at any time,” you said warmly. Typically, you didn’t lay on that extra charm unless a customer was overtly rude or incredibly nice, and in this case he was incredibly nice, very handsome, and you still had this gnawing feeling that you’d seen him somewhere before. Therefore, if he was a returning patron to the hotel, you wanted to make him feel extra special.

“Will do. Thanks,” he said as he grabbed his bags, waved to you, and took off toward the elevators.

Once he was out of sight, you dealt with the new family coming up to check in and your day continued as usual. The rest of the shift, you were racking your brain trying to remember where you’d seen him from. You couldn’t place it at all, and that bothered you because typically you didn’t forget a face. After awhile though, you shrugged it off, figuring it would come to you later.

In your down time, after verifying the room service orders were fulfilled, requests were taken care of, and the kitchen staff was on schedule, you sat down and began playing around with some music, scribbling down some lyrics in your ratty notebook that you carried with you everywhere.

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Forever Tag:

@essie1876

@magpiegirl80

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

@marvel-imagines-yes-please

@missinstantgratification

@thejemersoninferno

@rda1989

@munlis

@thefridgeismybestie

@bubblyanarocks3

@igiveupicantthinkofausername

@kaliforniacoastalteens

@feelmyroarrrr

@kaeling

@friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo

@damalseer

@heyitscam99

@yknott81

@sorryimacrapwriter

@glitterquadricorn

@bittersweetunicorm

@alyssaj23

@princess76179

@thisismysecrethappyplace

@sarahp879

@malfoysqueen14

@ellallheart

@breezy1415

@marvelmayo

@lyniboy

@paintballkid711

@pandacookieowo

History Repeats/Hayden

@haydens-moles

#history repeats #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen fic #hayden christensen

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scraregenrecs · 4 years ago

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Rec Roundup – February 2021 #1

Welcome to our first rec roundup for February 2021! Below is a collection of fics that feature different pairings and characters that could all use a little extra love. There's an assortment of platonic, gen, and romantic fics, and the content ranges from fluffy to sexy to angsty and everywhere in between.

Note that because @scseason7 is actively posting right now and the fics from that fest are currently anon, we will be waiting until the end of the month to rec fics from the fest so that we can properly credit the authors for their work.

Without further ado, check out this installment's fics! Don't forget to kudos and comment if you enjoy what you see!

Broken Trust by @ladyflowdi, The Roses, M, 5773 words Summary: Time is an adult’s construct, so it may be the beginning of autumn, or October, or maybe December, when David gets sick. Rec [written by yourbuttervoicedbeau]: I’ll start this off by reiterating the author’s note to make sure you read the tags before diving into this fic, but it is ABSOLUTELY worth it. Young David’s narrative voice is wonderfully done, and the story is told with care and beauty.

hold you close (and won't let go) by @languageoflove, Stevie/Ruth, T, 576 works Summary: Stevie has a rough day, so Ruth does what any good girlfriend would and comforts her, but the tables end up turning. Rec [written by doingthemost]: This is a cute look at a quiet moment in Stevie and Ruth's relationship. I like when fics don't shy away from exploring the not-so-happy moments in relationships, both romantic and platonic, and show us how different people come together to resolve disagreements.

I'm a Hieroglyphic, I'm an Open Book by @lilythesilly, Alexis/Twyla, G, 1442 words Summary: Alexis is leaving in a week. She’s moving to New York to be a girl boss and everything she’s ever wanted. But she told Twyla that she loves music. Rec [written by doingthemost]: This is such a fun first entry into the Twylexis fandom! Not only does it have sweetness in spades, it also spends some time exploring Patrick and Twyla's friendship (another rare pair in itself!). This fic fits neatly into the world of canon and could easily have played out on our screens.

The Inn at Clear Lake by @patrickredactedbrewer tedbrewer, Patrick & Rachel, T, 693 words Rec [written by doingthemost]: Please check the tags before you read the summary or fic! That said, this is a frank and affecting look at something that can be difficult to explore and read. If you've been affected by this, whether directly or indirectly, it may be as cathartic for you as it was for me.

Just to Have You Once Again, by @fairmanor, Clint/Marcy, G, 6765 words Summary: Marcy and Clint's love story, as interpreted by [fairmanor]. Rec [written by samwhambam]: LISTEN UP FRIENDS. This fic is PERFECTION. It has everything, a bit of a slow burn, enemies to lovers. PEOPLE WHO ARE MEANT TO BE TOGETHER. When reading it, you forget that the Brewers only had 10 minutes of screen time. You get such a strong sense of them and who they are, and you really fall in love with them. I love it so much and have reread it multiple times.

A Little Less Alone by @neelyo67, Ronnie & Moira, G, 941 words Summary: When Ronnie needs a place to spend the night Moira invites her to stay at the motel. It's a platonic slumber party!!!! Rec [written by yourbuttervoicedbeau]: This is one of those ‘I never knew I needed this until I had it’ fics. Moira’s voice is PERFECTION, and Ronnie’s particular flavour of slightly reluctant love for Moira from canon really shines through here.

She’s all over me by @samwhambam, Stevie/Twyla, E, 3840 words Summary: Stevie invites Twyla over for ~fun times~. Part 2 of the "Stevie runs into Twyla at Jake's massage circle" fic. Rec [written by yourbuttervoicedbeau]: I recommended part one of this series last time and WHOO BOY does part two live up to its predecessor. This series continues to be tender, realistically awkward, and above all hot as hell.

Something to Celebrate, by @agoodpersonrose, Stevie & Ronnie and Stevie/Twyla (background), Gen, 1150 words Summary: “This is something to celebrate, you know?” she says firmly, running her fingers through the condensation on her beer. “This isn’t a time to regret all the time you've wasted, or to look back and question everything, and believe me, I’ve been through enough of that for a lifetime. This is your opportunity to look forward, and to get excited for everything still to come.” Rec [written by samwhambam]: Stevie and Ronnie friendship vibes??? Yes please. I love this glimpse into their friendship, especially at a time when Stevie’s really coming into her sexuality. Ronnie is the friend that’s encouraging, but unafraid to call you out on your shit, and I’m so glad that this was added as a part 2 to their fic “A Budding Romance.” It’s a great little glimpse into the world where you learn a lot about a character (Stevie) by seeing her interact with someone who isn’t the main love interest. So so good. Highly recommend.

we'll get together then, dad by @alamborghini, Alexis & Johnny, David & Johnny, T, 1000 words Summary: When Alexis comes out to Johnny, he does some reflecting about his two children. Rec [written by yourbuttervoicedbeau]: This is one of those fics that, as an author, is so well done I’m actually kind of mad about it — but as a reader is just something to be devoured over and over. I am a sucker for anything and everything in the Queer Feelings tag, and this is a WONDERFUL addition to that tag. Johnny’s POV is rare, but it’s so well done here.

Witches Brewer, by @vivianblakesunrisebay, Marcy, Clint/Marcy, G, 6563 words Summary: In the Brewer family, Patrick isn’t the only one with a secret. Rec [written by samwhambam]: I think it’s pretty obvious how much I LOVE the Brewers. And I love AUs, especially witchy AUs. So put those together? Perfection. Absolute perfection. You can’t convince me that Marcy isn’t a kitchen witch. The writer takes you on a journey as Marcy learns magic and the trials and tribulations that come with it. It is so well written, and has the sweetest ending/last little bit that has you wanting to wrap Marcy up in a hug, because she just loves her son so much. So good.

Happy reading, friends!

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one-abuse-survivor · 4 years ago

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Ok so, when a parent is considered healthy???I mean I've read a lot of articles about abusive parents but how does a healthy parent look like??

That’s a really good question! And I’m going to answer it with a list of traits good/non-abusive parents have, based on my experiences with my dad, on my friends’ experiences, and on other posts on the matter I’ve reblogged before with the tag #good parenting (links included). If anyone has something to add to the lists, please go for it!

I would like to preface this by reminding everyone that nothing is black and white: some abusive parents will have traits typical of healthy parents, and some non-abusive parents won’t have all these traits. I don’t want anyone to read the list below and think that since their parents fit one or two of the traits, they can’t be abusive. My own abuser fits some of these!

With that out of the way:

What does a healthy parent look like?

1. When they do things wrong, they own up to it.

No parent is perfect. Every single parent makes mistakes and hurts their kid without meaning to at some point in life; maybe by insisting too much or asking too many questions when their kid just wants to be left alone, maybe by not supporting their kid enough because they don’t notice their kid’s needs in time...

But the difference between a non-abusive and an abusive parent is that, upon realising they are doing something hurtful, non-abusive parents will apologise, will admit without a problem that what they did was wrong, and will do everything in their power to do better from now on. Because they care more about their kid's wellbeing than they do about being right. They care more about their kid's needs being met than they do about being held accountable.

Many abusive parents, on the other hand, will deny ever doing something wrong or look for ways to justify it, such as shifting the blame to the kids for making them mad. If you try to talk with an abusive parent about how they made you feel, they may say you’re attacking them or disrespecting them; they may call you weak/childish/disgraceful/selfish, they may act like they’re the victims in the situation, they may ignore you altogether, and a long etc.

Which brings me to the next point:

2. They don’t punish or dismiss you for feeling negative emotions toward them.

When a parent is not abusive, things like disagreeing with them, arguing with them, bantering with them, and even purposefully riling them up/rebelling against them are safe to do. Sure, they may get mad; but you won’t be scared of them if they do, because they won’t resort to violence, threats, insults, or ghosting: your basic needs as a human (including food, safety, comfort, emotional and financial support, etc) will never be at stake.

3. They allow you to have privacy, autonomy, and boundaries.

They knock and wait for your reply before walking opening the door/walking into your room. They don’t rummage through your things or go through your phone unless they have explicit permission from you to do so. They don’t get involved in your personal life behind your back, or force you to disclose information you don’t want to freely give to them. Even if they give you (a realistic amount of) house chores to teach you about responsibilities, they allow you to manage your time and do them whenever it’s most convenient for you, so that you can decide when to take a break/do things you enjoy, when to do homework, and when to do your chores. They don’t demand that you be available for them at all times: you can have time off to play videogames, read, go out with friends, or just scroll through your phone without having to be ready to help them/spend time with them on demand. And if they do want you to do something with them, they will offer to spend time together and allow you to say no. For example: “Hey, kiddo! I’ve decided I’m going to bake some muffins/go to the mall/go for a walk, do you want to join in?” “Aw, that’d be cool, but I’m chatting with some friends on Discord right now!” “That’s okay, have fun! 😁”

4. They give you good kinds of attention.

Following the previous example, it’s not enough for a parent to not give you bad kinds of attention, like demanding you spend time with them when you don’t want to, demanding you disclose information to them, etc. Non-abusive parents will ask you about your day. They'll want to spend quality time with you, get excited about the things you’re passionate about, share their hobbies with you, and respect and show interest in yours. They’ll let you enjoy your personal time and do things that don’t involve them, but you’ll still probably have things you love doing together, like doing puzzles, cooking, watching movies, going on walks... or anything else!

Non-abusive parents will encourage you to be who you are, to try new things and give up the ones you don’t like; they won’t blame or mock you for changing your mind about your career path or your extracurricular activities, and they’ll celebrate your successes with you and support you and encourage you when you don’t succeed, instead of pointing out your flaws and failures or labelling you a “bad child” and giving up on you. They’ll be your #1 fans and support you when you struggle!

That being said, of course, they’ll hold you accountable for your mistakes; but always with the aim of supporting you and raising you into a healthy, happy person who can understand that other people also have boundaries, and not for the sake of making you feel bad or to “prove” you’re worse than them, or than your siblings, or than anyone else.

5. They protect you from their problems.

Obviously, this depends a lot on the kid's age; a 16-year-old will have a lot more skills to understand and help with certain adult problems than a 6-year-old.

But if, for example, the non-abusive parents of a 6-year-old are stuggling financially, and they can’t or choose not to keep it from the kid, they will not make the kid feel like they’re causing the problem by having needs (such as food, doctors, heat during winter...) or make them feel like the problem is their responsibility. Something many abusive parents do is tell us/make us feel like things that are completely beyond our control are somehow our fault, and when we’re still not done growing up (even at 16!), feeling like we’re somehow the cause of a problem we can’t possibly fix can be deeply traumatic. So a non-abusive parent, instead, may let their kid know about the problem in a way that the kid can feel like they’re helping fix the problem. For example, for a 6-year-old, they may make up a game where any time you catch a light turned on in an empty room at home, you have to turn it off. And then when the kid proudly says they caught two lights on and turned them off that day, the parent will act super proud and give them a hug! Instead of, for example, complaining in front of the kid about how many lights were left turned on or accusing other family members.

And that’s all I can think of! But before I conclude this post, I would also like to bring some attention to what having a healthy parent feels like, because I think that as much as we try to differentiate between abusive and non-abusive/healthy parents, at the end of the day, the most important thing is how their behaviours affect us and make us feel.

So, going by the previous list, here are some ways having a non-abusive parent feels like:

1. You’re not scared to bring up negative or positive topics with them.

You’re not scared to disagree with them, to be angry at them, or to say “no” to them. You’re not scared to let them know things about you, or to share the things you’re excited about with them. If you have healthy parents, you’ll probably want to call them or text them when you receive good news! You’ll want to celebrate your successes with them, and you’ll also feel safe going to them for help and comfort when something bad happens to you, because you know they won’t judge or punish you for struggling and that the most important thing to them will be making sure you feel supported and safe, and not whether or not you messed up.

2. You’re comfortable sharing a space with them.

You don’t mind or fear dancing around in the living room while they watch TV, going for a random snack, or pacing the hallway while you study for your upcoming exam. You’re not scared they’ll demand your time, scream at you, or interrupt you. You’re not scared of them acknowledging your existence and presence in the house; crossing paths with them while you’re all going about your afternoons is a non-event, and so is them walking up to you to ask you something.

3. You enjoy spending time with them.

And you don’t do it out of guilt, fear, or obligation. You do it because you feel like it, because you like sharing things with them, because it’s fun! And not despite your body screaming at you to be as far away from them as possible and your brain telling you you’re a bad kid for not wanting to be around them in the first place.

That is all—thank you for this ask and I hope the answer helps!

Edit: I would like to reiterate that nothing is black and white, and that it's completely possible to not fit neatly into one of the two categories described above. It's possible to have good parents and still not enjoy sharing activities with them because you have depression, or to have good parents but not be able to trust them because someone else abused you, or a long, long etc. It's also possible to enjoy doing certain activities with your abusers, or to have good memories with your abusers. And, again, a long etc! I don't want to invalidate anyone's experience—just to hopefully help people with abusive parents understand how healthy relationships with parents usually work so they have something to compare their experiences with.

#ask #advice #good parenting #abuse tw #abuse #abusive parents #parenting #child abuse #teen abuse #emotional abuse tw #verbal abuse tw #Long post

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collecting-stories · 4 years ago

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The House Party - ep.03 - JJ Maybank

Summary: Things start to heat up as the week reaches its midway point and you make a decision that changes everything.

A/N: Mild smut at the very end of the chapter.

The S’week Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

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You weren’t sure how many times you would have to brush your teeth to get the taste of last night out of your mouth but the three times you already had clearly weren’t enough. It wasn’t alcohol, in fact you’d woken up more sober than you expected to be, almost leaning off the edge of your bed, tucked into your blanket, with JJ laying on top of the bedding beside you. It was all very ‘one motel bed’ trope-ish but you’d both been so exhausted last night that you couldn’t even enjoy the implications of it. An ice cube tray of melted aloe vera sat on the night stand and you brought it down with you to the kitchen to refreeze when you decided coffee might help the taste that wouldn’t leave your mouth. 

To put it the only way you knew how, a way JJ would have definitely put it, you tasted kook trash every time you swallowed and it wasn’t going to go away anytime soon, at least not while Rafe was two houses down from you. 

“Morning,” Pope voice half startled you as you entered the kitchen to find him sitting at the island eating cereal. 

“How is it possible that you look so normal?” You asked, grabbing a bowl for some cereal yourself. Breakfast was a good distraction from your phone and the taste in your mouth. 

“You mean as opposed to John B and Sarah who decided to parent trap it on a floatie in the pool?” He asked, turning for emphasis to look outside where your best friend and her boyfriend were indeed asleep on a floatie in the pool. 

“Exactly.” 

“I’m not a big drinker.” He shrugged. “What about you?”

“Am I a big drinker?” You asked. 

“No, how did you end the night?” 

You nodded your head slowly, realising what he was getting at with his question. “JJ was sick, I figured it was better to come back here than make him stay at the party.” 

“Sure.” He agreed though it sounded empty, “did you hook up?” 

“What?” 

“Look, I know how JJ parties, he’s my best friend. And I know what his ‘senior week plans’ were before Sarah hijacked them to come down here. I wouldn’t put it past him to alter them. You know, have sex with as many girls as he can in the keys. Host included.”

“We didn’t have sex.” You replied. 

He stared at you for a full minute, not saying anything, as if the look on his face alone would crack you into admitting some misdeed. And it probably would have if any had occurred. 

“We didn’t have sex, I swear to god.” You reiterated. “It is what I said it is. JJ was throwing up in the bathroom and I brought him back here so he could rest. That’s all that happened.” 

“With JJ.” Pope scoffed. 

“Whoa, where’s the displaced animosity coming from...pretty sure you’re in my house.” 

“Yeah and JJ is my best friend. I don’t want you stringing him along for the week cause you’re bored and you wanna make your ex jealous or something.” Pope replied.

“You literally just got done telling me that JJ wanted to sleep his way around s’week but I’m the bad guy in your head because of some proposed plan I have to ‘make my ex jealous’?” You questioned. “That’s un-fucking-believable.”

“It would be if I hadn’t seen you in the hallway with your ex right before you left with JJ.” 

“You’re delusional. My ex who? Just cause I was talking to some guy-“

“You weren’t talking and it was Rafe.” 

You shut your mouth, lips pressed together in a line as you tried to think of something to say. Sure, it was common knowledge amongst your friend group that you and Rafe had been hooking up for the better part of two years but that was over and you really didn’t think it was the kind of thing that pogues talked about. And you trusted Sarah not to have blabbed about it to anyone else. 

“How’d you know-“ 

“How’d I know you and Rafe were a thing? Sarah’s not the only one here that knows you. I’ve seen him at your house before when I delivered groceries, not so hard to put two and two together.” 

“Well me and Rafe are over.” 

“You didn’t look over.” Pope challenged. 

“Oh well, thank you for interpreting two fucking minutes of my life and deciding how I feel about something.” You snapped, “I didn’t want him to kiss me okay, I told him to leave me alone. It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that the word no isn’t exactly a part of his vocab.”

Before Pope could say anything back the sound of footsteps on the stairs caught your attention. Both of you looked toward the staircase in time to see JJ appear, shirtless with just a pair of swim shorts on. His shoulders and chest were red but not as burnt as his back, which you caught a glimpse of as he trudged passed you, not in the high spirits he had been yesterday morning. 

“Dude, your back looks painful.” Pope commented, staring at the expanse of angry red skin that looked more ready to blister than anything. 

“It feels painful too.” JJ grumbled. So far he was 0-3 with vacation. He was stuck in this kook house (which really wasn’t so bad but he enjoyed bitching about it), he was sunburnt to hell, and he’d wasted an entire night of partying throwing up from sun-poisoning (though that worked out in his favour too because he definitely enjoyed the part where he sat on your bed and you rubbed aloe ice cubes on his back and basically took care of him). 

“Guess the beach is out of the question?” Pope asked, getting up to put his bowl in the sink. 

“I can go to the beach.” 

“You definitely can’t.” You replied, coming around to look at JJ’s back. He was sitting on one of the stools, slumped over. “You shouldn’t get anymore direct sun on your back.” 

“Oh cool, I’m so glad I came all the way down to fucking Florida to sit in a house all day and do shit.” 

“Sorry man,” Pope said, though he made no offer to stay at the house. Yesterday had been great and he was looking forward to going to the beach again today with Kiara. John B and Sarah had mentioned tagging along but he knew they’d eventually go off to do their own thing. 

“We could go to the boardwalk?” You offered, ignoring the look that Pope sent your way. You knew he was just being a good friend, looking out for someone he cared about, and it made you wish that Sarah knew enough to do the same for you. 

“What will we do on the boardwalk?” JJ asked, curious enough that he wasn’t immediately rejecting the idea. 

“There’s a water park there and an arcade, plus you know, tons of food.” You shrugged, “I know you wanna go to the beach-“

“I can be persuaded.”

“I think you already have been.” Pope commented. 

The three of you turned your attention to the stairs as Kiara came down, already dressed for the beach. When she saw the three of you in various states of sleepwear she rolled her eyes, “hey Kie be ready early so we can all go to the beach together.” 

“Technically, Sarah said that and she’s passed out in the pool still.” Pope replied, pointing out the glass doors to where the floatie was still carrying John B and Sarah on the water. 

“Let’s wake ‘em up then.” JJ slipped passed you, winking, before he ran outside, jumping into the pool and landing directly on top of John B and Sarah. 

You, Pope, and Kiara rushed to the doors in time to see the floatie flip over, all three teens going under as Sarah shrieked and John B tried to grab any part of the inflatable raft. Sarah surfaced immediately after JJ, throwing her body on him and wrapping her arms around his neck as she tried to push him under. 

“You asshole!” She screamed when JJ ducked under the water, twisting in her arms and grabbing her waist so that he could throw her off him. 

You watched them for a minute longer, as John B finally got involved, before heading back into the house and going upstairs to change. You’d left your phone plugged in the bathroom outlet while you were sitting with JJ and you picked it up now to check your messages. Two from Rafe and one, unsurprisingly, from Topper. It’d been him at the end of the hall that called Rafe away from you. 

-You okay?- was all the text said and you quickly responded. 

-Nothing happened. Thx-

You deleted the messages from Rafe without looking at them. You could hear everyone come in the kitchen, footsteps on the stairs as John B, Sarah, and JJ came up to change. You pulled on a crop top and some shorts, pocketing your phone before hurrying downstairs. 

Kiara and Pope were back to hanging around the island, talking to each other about their plans as you entered. 

“Hey, do you guys wanna meet up later on the boardwalk?” Kiara asked, “we could do dinner or something?”

“Sounds good to me.” You replied, grabbing your backpack from the chair and making sure that you had everything you needed. “There’s a pizza place near the South street entrance that has incredible food, plus it’s super cheap.” 

“I do love cheap food.” 

You had locked your shorts and your backpack in the rented locker of the water park along with JJ’s backpack before the two of you headed for any of the rides. Both your phones locked away in your backpack, cutting you both off from the rest of the world for however long JJ felt like staying at the water park. 

“So? Where to first?” You asked as JJ stopped in front of a mounted map of the park. It wasn’t as big as Dorney or Six Flags but it was pretty expansive for being an extension of the boardwalk. 

“Shush, I’m consulting the map.” 

“Consult the bones,” you said and JJ laughed, casting you a glance before going back to the map. 

“Come on,” he grabbed your hand suddenly, having zeroed in on a ride titled the constrictor, 450 feet of enclosed water slide and the two of you were going down it. 

He weaved his way through the crowd of people, leading you closer and closer to the line for the slide. Most people were at the beach on the weekdays which meant a shorter wait line, something JJ was happy about. It was bad enough he was spending his day at some dumb water park with you, he didn’t want to have to wait in line too. Although, he hadn’t let your hand go yet. 

“Should I mention before or after we ascend these stairs that I have a mild fear of heights?” You asked, taking the raft that was offered to you by the water park employee. 

“It’s fine,” JJ assured you, “here go ahead of me.” 

“How does this help?” You asked as you stepped in front of him onto the first stair. 

JJ shifted his raft under his arm, pressing it against his body and holding onto the railing while he used his other hand to hold you, fingers brushing the skin above your bikini bottoms as he held your waist. “See.”

You bit your lip and took a deep breath, “yeah I see.” 

The rest of the way up the stairs JJ kept his hand on either your waist or your back. He wasn’t too thrilled with heights either though focusing on the peach bikinis bottoms you wore, little pineapples polkadotting them. He could imagine you totally smacking him in the face of you knew but he’d take his chances. 

As sly as he might’ve thought he was being you knew he was looking. When you turned around at the first platform before the stairs twisted you caught him looking down, eyes darting up quickly when he realized you were looking at him. You didn’t say anything, just turned back around so he wouldn’t see the satisfied smile on your face.

“You ready for this?” JJ asked as you stepped onto the final platform, JJ stepping up behind you.

“I’ll see you at the bottom Maybank.” You replied, stepping over to your slide while JJ got set up at his.

You liked waterparks for the lazy rivers and the wave pools and those crazy contraptions for kids that looked like towering pipes and dumped water on you. Even the log flume was fun. But giant enclosed slides that shot you through winding loops for endless feet until finally dumping you in a pool? Not your favorite. But as you looked over at JJ, who flashed you a thumbs up, you were having trouble thinking about the things you didn’t like.

The slide was over before you knew it and you were climbing out of the pool, JJ standing on the side waiting for you. “How did you beat me?”

“I’m like speed racer,” he said, making a wooshing sound as he glided one hand under the other like a wave.

“Well, speedracer, what next?” You asked, taking off your soaked shirt and wringing it out as you followed JJ back to the map. “Are we consulting the map again?”

“What you think I memorized it?” He asked, looking back over his shoulder at you and grabbing your hand when a woman with a stroller tried to squeeze between the two of you.

By the time you and JJ met up with Kiara and Pope and made it back to the house Sarah was already setting up for a party. John B had obviously been enlisted to help as he was trying to adhere light stripes at the top of the wall in the living room.

“What’d you do rob a liqour store?” You asked, grabbing the leg of the ladder he was on when he leaned to far to the left.

“Feels like it.” John B replied, “Sarah filled a cart. We’re either having a party or she’s turning into everyone’s alcoholic grandmother.”

“We’re having a party!” Sarah called, coming in from the pool area, “it’s exactly what we need.”

“Why do we need to host a party?” Kiara asked, looking back at JJ and Pope but they just shrugged, obviously not willing to get involved.

“Because morale is low here people.” Sarah replied, “and it’s senior week, duh.”

“Duh.” You repeated, raising your eyebrows and grinning at JJ who laughed. Sarah watched the interaction skeptically, as far as she knew John B’s best friend had complained of nothing but a bad time. Now he was joking with you like the two of you were friends.

“Can I talk to you,” she grabbed your arm to pull you out of the room, “Pope hold the ladder!”

“Oh cool the bathroom.” You muttered as she dragged you into the hall powder room, shutting the door behind her and trapping the two of you in the crammed space. “What’s up?”

“What’s up? What’s going on with you and JJ?”

“Didn’t we do this literally yesterday?” You questioned, “I said then and I'll say now, JJ and I are barely friends.”

“Except when I texted Kie earlier cause I couldn’t get a hold of you she said you and JJ were on the boardwalk together.”

“Oh, oh my god Sarah, you’re right, something is clearly ‘going on’ because I went on the boardwalk with someone instead of just ignoring the people living in my house.” You rolled your eyes at her accusation that something was going on though you sincerely hoped something was.

When she finally released you from the bathroom the two of you resumed getting ready before you changed into something more appropriate for the party. NC parties were slow going in the early hours until they finally picked up, mostly just crowds of people crammed in an empty rental or spread out on the beach. House parties in the Keys happened a little more erratically. People showed up while it was still light out, hanging around the pool drinking and shit talking until it got dark and they all migrated inside, drunk off their asses and louder than necessary.

You had moved the table and chairs in the dining room and pushed all the furniture back in the living room for good reason because the minute the sun went down it felt like everyone was spilling back into the house for part 2. You were in the kitchen, ignoring most everyone there, watching JJ set up a shot for Kiara.

“Is it lime and then salt or salt and then lime?” He asked, glancing at you.

You were leaned against the counter beside him and Kiara was on the other side with Pope, who already said twice he wanted no part in this. “Lime first, how else does the salt stick right? I don’t remember...I know how to do a body shot.”

“Are you offering?” The grin on JJ’s face as he asked had you practically melting in your spot.

“Guys!” Kiara leaned across the island, snapping her fingers, “can we please just do the shot!”

“Right, sorry.” You apologized, grabbing the bottle of tequila to pour for them.

While the three of you were talking Pope spun in his chair, observing the louder parts of the party that was raging on the first floor. There were a few people lingering in the kitchen with you, mostly to be closest to the alcohol, but otherwise everyone was contained to the living room, dining room, and pool. When he looked out the glass doors to the pool area he frowned, “hey guys, look who showed up.”

You looked out the door to see Topper on the patio chatting with some local. “I’ll be right back.”

“Can we just enjoy the party?” Pope called though you were already slipping out the door.

“Top,” you called not caring that you were interrupting him, “can I talk to you?”

He apologized to the girl before placing his hand on your back and leading you further away from the party, stopping once the two of you had stepped onto the sand path down to the beach. “Look, someone texted Rafe about the party alright.”

“Well I don’t want you guys here.” You replied, “you weren’t invited by me and it’s my house.”

“Hey come on, you know me alright, I’m not trying to start anything-”

“Doesn’t sound like the Topper I know.”

“That wasn’t me alright, Sarah made me a little crazy, I'll admit. But I’m over that.” Topper replied. “I don’t understand why you and Rafe broke up and suddenly you can’t hang with any of us.”

“Are you still friends with Rafe?”

“That’s not fair, we’ve been-”

“I don’t care. You know what happened. You want me to be friends with you Top? After what you and Kelce did. Look, thanks for last night but I don’t need your guilty conscience looking out for me. I need you to get your boys and get the fuck out my house.”

“Putting on the tough act for Topper?” Rafe’s voice came from behind you and you closed your eyes, jaw tensing at the sound.

“It’s fine man, we’re just talking.” Topper replied, stepping closer to you.

You opened your eyes and turned around to see Rafe and Kelce standing there, “actually I will tell you the same thing I told Top, get the fuck off my property.”

“Damn,” Rafe whistled, “you start hanging with the pogues and suddenly you think you’re tough shit.”

“Hey man, let’s just forget it.” Topper said, getting between you and Rafe.

Rafe put his hand on Topper’s shoulder, guiding him out of the way, “you go ahead, I need to talk to my girlfriend.”

“Ex-girlfriend.” You replied, “I said we were done and I meant it.”

Pope had been watching you talk to Topper from the kitchen door and when he saw Rafe and Kelce join the two of you on the catwalk he’d broken up JJ and Kiara’s shot game to tell them something was going down and you were out there alone.

“Maybe she’s just talking to them.” Kiara shrugged, “I mean, she is a kook. Her and Rafe used to date too so...”

“She dated Rafe?” JJ asked, eyes wide at the implication.

“Oh yeah, she broke it off a couple times but they always got back together. Sarah told me she thinks they might get back together again.”

Pope frowned, thinking of the way you had looked this morning when he accused you of doing just that, “I don’t think so. We should make sure she’s okay.”

“I’ll get John B.” Kiara replied, making her way to the living room to find John B and Sarah.

JJ and Pope meanwhile, headed outside, coming up behind Kelce just as you told Rafe that you were never getting back together with him. You saw the two of them passed Kelce’s shoulder and your best at a subtle shake of the head, a silent ‘please go back inside’. But Topper saw them too and alerted Rafe to their presence.

“Kelce wasn’t lying Maybank, you really have turned into a guard dog haven’t you.” Rafe said, turning his full attention on JJ. Topper pulled you to the other side of the path and pushed you behind him as Kiara, Sarah, and John B walked up.

“Fuck off Rafe, you aren’t welcome here.” Kiara cut in before JJ could reply.

“I didn’t know you owned the place.” Kelce challenged.

“I already fucking told you to go!” You said, “so go!”

Rafe only smiled, looking at JJ still, “what pair you guys make man. A bitch and her dog.”

Without warning JJ lunged forward, shoving Rafe back and swinging, trying to punch him. When Kelce tried to grab him John B intervened, getting Kelce in a choke hold. It took a second for all six of the boys to become involved in the fight as Kiara urged Sarah to call the cops. Rafe punched JJ, sending him back into the sand and getting on top of him, hitting him repeatedly while Topper held off Pope and John B and Kelce fought with each other.

“Stop it,” Kiara grabbed at Topper, trying to pull him off Pope and Sarah just stood there frozen.

You went for Rafe, trying to push him off JJ. When you grabbed his arm he pulled away only to throw his elbow back, colliding with your stomach and sending you to the ground. It was all the momentum that JJ seemed to need to shove Rafe off him and get the upper hand, kicking him in the stomach a couple times.

“Get the fuck out!” He shouted, spitting on your ex-boyfriend.

Topper let go of Pope and grabbed Rafe’s arm, helping him up and pulling him away, Kelce breaking away from John B and following them back to theirs, away from the party. The six of you stood there in silence, trying to process what had just happened.

“Some party.” Pope finally said and Kiara glared at him.

“Didn’t I say this week would be shit.” JJ said, looking over at you before turning and heading out toward the beach.

“Let’s just go back inside.” Sarah pleaded.

“Why were they even here?” Pope asked, casting a glance your way.

“Topper said someone texted Rafe about the party.” You said, “could have been anyone...he’s been down here with me before, he knows some of my Keys friends.”

“Whatever,” Kiara cut in, “we have three days left and I would love if we could just, not see them again for 72 hours. Is that possible?”

“I hope so.”

“I had a feeling you’d still be out here.” You said, walking up behind JJ on the beach. The light from the houses behind you did little to illuminate the night. The waves were lapping up the sand at JJ’s feet and he made no sign that he even knew you were there. You dropped the blanket you had around your shoulders and sat down, not bothering to straighten out the corners. “I know you’re pissed-“

“I’m not pissed.” He said, digging his heels in further. “I just...you and Rafe, seriously?” 

“It was different, at the beginning.”

“That’s just an excuse.”

“Maybe but...I was 14 when we first started dating and I really thought he liked me. But, he just liked that I was insecure and he tries to remind me of that every time he sees me.” You explained. “Rafe being down here doesn’t change what happened at the water park, I didn’t just kiss you because of him.” 

It’d happened during the lazy river ride that you had forced JJ to go on. He had spent most of the ride pushing your innertube with his foot and trying to tip you until it finally happened and you went over, sputtering to the surface and trying to grab at your inflatable tube as passersby tried to avoid the two of you. You’d pushed his innertube over in retaliation and he’d abandoned it to grab you and try to dunk you underwater.

Serendipitous maybe, as you twisted in his arms, turning to face him, he’d leaned down and kissed you.

“He keeps showing up.”

“I didn’t invite him.” 

JJ looked back at you before rubbing the heel of his hand across his cheeks and sniffing to get rid of the literal waterworks he’d been two seconds away from. This wasn’t the vacation he had signed up for. And maybe there had been some good parts so far but the complicated bits were starting to outweigh everything else. Still, he shifted back so he could sit on the blanket with you; a step in the right direction you hoped. 

“What’s in the bag?” He asked, looking over at the backpack you’d carried all the way out here with you. 

“I didn’t think you would want to go back to the party so I brought the party with me.” You replied, unzipping the main compartment to reveal the alcohol you had swiped from the house. “I don’t know if you wanna party with me-“

“Shut up and pass me a beer.” 

You smiled, grabbing a beer from the bag and handing it to JJ. Without warning he grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward him, leaning back on his other elbow as he did. You caught yourself, pressing your hand into the blanket to hold yourself up and realizing you were hovering over him. 

“I, uh-“ you stammered, licking your lips briefly before JJ let go of your wrist and put his hand on the back of your neck, leading you into a kiss. You kissed back, ignoring the feeling of the beer bottle cap scratching your hand as you shifted to be closer to JJ, moving your knee between his legs so you were almost straddling him. 

“Are you sure?” You asked when you pulled away to move your hand from the beer bottle. You frowned when you glanced at it, holding it up so JJ could see the cut. He took your wrist, kissing over the small cut on your palm. “I’m not really good at casual things,” you admitted.

“Is that what this is?”

You shook your head before leaning in to kiss him again. While you held yourself up with the hand that had been cut by the beer bottle your other hand moved to JJ’s stomach, fingers slipping beneath his shirt and dancing along the soft skin of his abdomen, just above his shorts. His grip on the back of your neck tightened ever so slightly as he held your face to his, pulling out of the kiss for the briefest of moments to look at you, “Are you sure?” He repeated your question though it had a different meaning.

“Yeah.” You nodded. It was dead on the beach this time of night and you were far enough down toward the water that no one could really see you from the houses though that didn’t stop this from being the most daring thing you’d ever done.

JJ shifted so that he was laying back on the blanket, pushing the backpack away from his body as you straddled his waist. His hands went to your hips, running over your ass and settling on the backs of your thighs when you leaned all the way forward to kiss him, bodies practically pressed together. You kissed along his jaw and down his neck, sucking a bruise into his skin. JJ’s breathing picked up as your right hand moved between your bodies, fingers unbuttoning and unzipping his shorts before you slipped your hand beneath them, grasping him. JJ bit down on his lip as he moaned, the sound coming up from his chest.

You pulled away from him, cool air rushing between your bodies as you sat back on your heels. He watched you, heart pounding in his chest, as you put your hands on the waistband of his shorts, ready to pull them down, “God, why are you not in a swimsuit.”

“Excuse me for not knowing I was gonna get lucky on the beach.”

“I’m gonna leave you on the beach for saying that,” you teased.

JJ’s hands held you in a vice grip, squeezing your hips, “not a chance.” He replied. He ran his hands up your sides to the hem of your bralette, fingers nudging the fabric up and you caught on to what he wanted, obliging him by lifting the top up over your head and tossing it to the side.

Your original plan of action went to hell though you could be upset when JJ wrapped his arms around your back and sat himself up, knocking you back and laying you down so he could hover over you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he kissed you.

“That was a neat trick.” You managed as he mirrored the hickey you’d left on him on your own neck. He smiled against your skin as his right hand moved across your stomach, fingers brushing against the underside of your breast. His mouth travelled down from your neck, kissing between your breasts before moving to the left, tongue darting out to flick over your nipple. His fingers twisted your other nipple at the same time and you tensed, hips shooting up to try and create some friction with his own. He sucks another bruise into your skin, just below your left breast before moving back up to kiss you.

The new position made it easier to get his shorts and briefs down and you manage to push them down to his thighs after you rid yourself of your own shorts. JJ leans his forehead against your collar, looking down at you with a sly smile. “No underwear?”

“I was in a hurry to get dressed.” You insisted, “now shut up.”

“I’m not the chatty one.”

“I’m not - holy shit!” You cursed as he slipped his hand between your thighs, coating his fingers before rubbing your clit. His middle finger circled the bundle of nerves before slipping down inside of you, just barely offering anything before repeating the cycle. When he kissed you he slipped his tongue in your mouth and you bit down gently, not enough to hurt him but enough to getting him going.

You tried to press yourself up into his hand but he pushed you down, slick fingers digging into your skin as he pressed you against the blanket. You whimpered when he pushed his hips into yours, his dick rubbing over your clit and you grip his hair as he tilts his head down to kiss and nip at your breasts again.

“Please, Jay,” you begged, unashamed and completely oblivious to your surroundings as he lined himself up and thrust in to you. He stilled for a moment once he was completely in, savoring the feeling of you until you tugged his hair. “Move.”

“God, you’re so desperate for me.” He teased, kissing beneath your chin and along your neck.

Finally he moves, thrusting into you. His pace quickens and you wrap your arms around him, digging your fingers into his back. He groans from the almost pain of the feeling, his hips hitting yours harder to give back as much as you’re giving him. You pulled him closer so that you could kiss him again. You’d be lying if you said that you had been on edge with JJ all day. That every touch and smile, the kiss in the lazy river, it all felt like foreplay as he thrust into you now, slipping his hand between your legs to rub your clit as he did, pushing you closer to the edge.

“JJ,” you whimpered, muscles in your stomach clenching as you felt yourself approaching your high.

JJ pressed his face into your neck, biting again at your collar, “I know,” was all he said, repeating it again when the rhythm he’d built up wavered slightly as he felt his own release approaching, “I know.”

One hand fisted the blanket beneath you as your release hit. You came, his name the only thing you could think of, and he came right after, the feeling of you tightening around him enough to pull an orgasm out of him. JJ held himself up on one arm, trembling above you, still connected as his hips still, his eyes on yours.

You sucked in a breath as he kissed the tender skin of your collar, red from his teeth, “have you ever gone skinny dipping?” You asked.

“Not in the Keys.” He replied, letting his upper body fall against you as well, all of him pressing into you.

“When I can move again...want to?”

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