#Semi domestic silliness

[gingeragenda]

Unheeded

I’m quite pleased with this little Angbang snapshot, part of Love Leapt Out , the prequel to Dream a Little Dream

“So do you see?” He prompts Melkor, practically bouncing in his seat as his elucidating lecture comes to its highly impressive conclusion. He flourishes his hands over the collection of items he has arranged on his desk to help him convey the processes he has devised, eyes fixed on their elegant patterns. “Do you see, my love? Don’t you think that’s terribly clever?”

When there is still no reply he looks over to where his audience of one lounges, dismayed to find him focused entirely on picking shreds of stringy flesh from between his teeth with a stiletto blade.

“Are you even listening…” he roars, slamming his fists down and sending some of his careful configurations into a jumble. Melkor’s head turns his way, deliberately slow, and Mairon appends a more measured “…my Lord?”

His master heaves a sigh, “Well what didst thou say?” The Vala continues removing gore from his fangs, clearly disinterested in any answer. He realises Melkor’s toothpick is an instrument of Mairon’s own making; a gift finely-honed and inlaid with jewels.

“Nothing much, I was just explaining how I have harnessed the power of invisibility through my peerless genius, but I see now that’s really of very little consequence.”

“Dost thou forget I may walk unclad and pass in secrecy, unseen by all?”

“Hmm, yes good point. Not everybody can do that though, can they?” He can’t believe that’s what he’s using the blade for, Mairon had meant it as a token of his love, intentionally delicate, to be used in their games perhaps. Clearly his gift means nothing. He means nothing.

“Hold thy insolent tongue,” Melkor points the blade at him, gristle dangling from the tip, “if thou desireth to keep it.”

With pursed lips he snatches up the pendant from the centre of the desk and stands, drawing himself up to his full height, attempting to retain some dignity.

“May I take my leave then, my Lord, if it please thee?”

Melkor regards him with bemusement, then waves him away.

He strides away, boots clicking against the stone, robes billowing behind him -

“Mairon…”

He whirls on his heel, heart leaping at the possibility of some overture -

“Bid someone bring me more of�� whatever this is,” he gestures vaguely at the platter of bones at his side.

“That was Egnis, my Lord.”

“See to it.”

“My Lord.” He sketches the most insincere bow he reckons he can get away with and departs.

[dvchvnde]

PRAIRIE WOLF | prologue

domestic violence, abuse (not Price). unexpected pregnancy. implied age gap.

MASTERLIST. AO3

He's a regular at the diner you work at.

Sits in the same spot, orders the same thing. Doesn't say much, but—according to Elliot—he never does. English, too. A foreigner. But here longer than you've been. Grown roots. Stretched his legs.

He owns a cabin in the woods that be built with his bare hands, and does odd jobs around town wherever he's needed. Mostly carpentry. Woodwork. Only forty, Elliot says, and already semi-retired. Military grunt, though (and in a terrible, exaggerated cockney accent, he adds) back home.

Running from something, he surmises, and you try not to feel flayed under his heavy, pointed stare, offering little more than a shrug you hope is more blase than you feel and a flat, aren't we all? so what makes his marathon so special?

Comes by at five in the morning, fours hours into a twelve hour shift. Likes, what he calls, an English Breakfast.

He isn't like some of the men who show up after midnight, or in the early hours. Blue collar works hungry for more than rubbery pancakes and coffee. The ones who ignore the split in your lip, hidden under a thick coat of lipstick, the puffiness of your eye. Whispering oil-slick charm at quarter to three in the morning when the pregnancy test you stole from the dollarrama is still buried under bloodied toilet paper in the motel you've converted into a temporary home.

Price—John Price—stares at the mess of your pretty face and meets the ugliness head-on, eyes narrowed into something that might be suspicion. Askance. Wariness. Some amalgamation of what the fuck happened to you and don't bring that mess over to my table.

Quiet. In theory.

You've heard him talk—this low, growling thing; the misfire of an engine, a rumble that reminds you of the old Plymouth Fury your dad had. Dangerous. Men like him usually are.

Little girl fantasies spun into real life. Duct tape. Magnets to girls like you with all the broken pieces, fragile parts. And with the bruises bubbling under your skin—burst blood vessels, fist-sized—and the—

The kid, you suppose. Baby. You can't afford to get wrapped up into something like that no matter how many times you catch him staring.

Watching.

The other server always handles his order when he arrives. Since starting work here four months ago, you maybe had all of a single conversation when you floated through the diner in search of something to do.

more coffee? a glance. a grunt. yeah, love. I'll have some more.

So you ignore it. Him. Keep your head down and pour cup after cup to the other regulars who congregate and pretend you aren't living in a motel to escape a man who seems to prefer you bruised up and bloody. Who—

Knocked you up.

Your hand goes there. To your belly. Nauseous, suddenly, with the thought of it. This.

When you glance up, unease prickling across your nape, you catch him staring at you. At the hand still splayed over your stomach. Something frisson across his expression—whiplike: ripples over a lake—but it's too fast, fleeting, for you to catch. Tucked back inside the folds of his patented frown, the ever present crease between his thick, umbre brows.

John lifts his eyes from your ringless hand, the swollen index finger from when you made the mistake of pointing to the door, trying to stand firm with your luggage hidden in the bushes, and meets your gaze. Stares at you head-on. Implacable as always. Blank.

But—and it's so silly, really—for a moment, you thought it was hunger. Something heavy and dark. Possessive.

Then his head dips. A shallow nod. John looks away, eyes slanting towards the window as if he didn't have to tear his gaze away from your belly. From you.

Your heart is in your throat. This too thick, fragile thing thudding against your jugular. Hard to breathe, hard to swallow around it. In the way—

Outside, tires squeal against the pavement.

John tenses. A shadow falling over his brow, a tug on his lips hidden under thick, wry curls.

You don't know what it is until the familiar gurgle of an engine cuts through the silent diner.

He looks back at you as a door slams. A shout erupts.

Fear is a thick, oily sludge filling your lungs. Tarlike. Sticky molasses. It burns, corrosive, and eats away at your tissue until a hole forms, letting spill out inside of you. To your belly where it hardens into a ferric ball of panic.

You thought you had time. One last shift. Collect your paycheck and then run—

But he found you.

He bellows out your name, angry and a little slurred. Drunk. High. Like the passive, maltreated dog he turned you into, you follow the sound, cowing a little when you see him stumble into the diner, face collapsed into fury.

There's a clatter. The hollow echo of wood hitting linoleum. Screams, his yells. It's all muted in your head. Panic throbbing against your ears, stuffing them full of cotton.

His bruised, marled fist reaches for you—

But John gets there first. His broad stretch of his back filling your vision as he pushes himself into the empty space between you and this man, hands raised, catching his mangled fist in one and grabbing a handful of his shirt, tugging him closer. It's all raw, untameable anger as he huffs into the man's face, grinding the words out on a rough, animalistic snarl—

"Touch her again, and it'll be the last thing you ever fuckin' do."

Stress like this ain't good for the baby, the paramedic tells you, brown eyes dampening with a thick ring of sympathy as she turns over your wrist, and dabs cool, wet cotton over the welts on your skin.

She's pushing for you to press charges. Keeps swiping at your skin to unveil more of your hidden hurts to the police officer that holds an old kodak in his hands and snaps, snaps, snaps at every weakness, each vulnerability she offers up.

It'd be the smart thing to do. He's already being booked on assault, threats. Battery for hitting John on the shoulder, the only place he could reach, with the shovel left by the cooks to scrape the snow away from the spot they usually gather around to smoke. No one brings up the fact that John was choking the life out of him at the time, and the bruises around his neck—ugly red fingerprints—are easily ignored.

Adding domestic violence to the list of charges, she mutters, will keep him locked up. Away from you. Can file for a restraining order, the cop adds, scratching the back of his neck as the camera sits, poised and intrusive, in his other hand.

The problem is that you've been through this before.

Like mother, like daughter.

The knife twists a little deeper. Gouges out another pound of flesh lost to a broken home. Another cog in a ruinous system. Poor kid, below the poverty line, with a dad who sold drugs and mother who did them. Dime a dozen.

And with that comes the knowledge that his sentence will be lighter than they're alluding to—if he has one at all. Upstanding citizen before he got shackled in with the wrong crowd, the runaway. Trouble who breezed through and picked the son of an attorney in the big city some three hours away from this town, this dilapidated diner. Sinking claws in.

My son never drank or did drugs before, your honour—

He'll get off with a slap on the wrist because he's never been in trouble before.

Your dad, too—in jail for the weekend when your mother relented to the impassioned beseeches given to her by rookie cops who just wanted that arrest notch on their belt. Saw a judge on Monday. Prison too crowded for such a paltry offense.

The hurt, after, was always worse than what he went to jail for.

So. No. You won't press charges even though you know you should. It'll take too long and you don't plan on staying much longer. Not with your luggage packed in the trunk. The cheque shoved clumsily into your hands when the manager came out to make a fuss, angling a purpling finger in your direction—nothin' but trouble since the day you were hired—only to be stopped by the wall that is John Price, a snarl pulling up at his lips as he barked call the fuckin' police and, low, as if he didn't want you to hear, adding: you ever point your finger at her again like that, and I'll hang you from the goddamn rafters.

You're not sure why he's still here, standing watch. On guard. His bloodied, bruised hands shoved into his armpits as he paces back and forth like a caged tiger unaware the door has been open the whole time. Stalking. Taking measured, meaningful steps towards anyone who tries to come over—badge or not. Barking out orders. Lancing people with his glare when they tread too closely.

Good fucking samaritan, you think, eyes riveted on the blood drying over the gravel. Your head looping, weaving in arching circles as you try to contend with the fact that it somehow isn't yours, but his.

Maybe that's why he stays. Obligation. Civic duty. It makes you snort, and the paramedic glances at you sharply, assessing in that too thick, too kind, way of hers.

"You doin' okay, mama?"

And you wish she wouldn't call you that. Make it real. Mama. Your idea of motherhood, of mothers and moms and mamas, is a woman slumped on the couch, passed out after staying up all night talking to ghosts. Nails caked with the dust of percocets and restoril and oxycodone (oxycotton, she's always called it). Popping mouthful of pills in the morning, afternoon, evening, and night. An assortment to keep her functional—and asleep.

Nodding off in the middle of conversations. Or fighting it to stay high. Irritated and combative whenever she ran out, supply gone dry.

Toxic.

Neglectful—at best.

You can't think about what you'll end up doing to this kid with her blood in your veins. Her ghosts in your head.

John moves. A shadow in the corner of your eye. "'bout enough of that, don't you think?"

She backs up, startled by the aggression in his voice. "I just—"

You think you hate them both. "I'm fine."

She looks back at you, searching. Wanting that assurance, but whatever she's looking to find, it isn't there. You won't give it, and eventually she nods. Peels back. "Okay. If you feel any soreness at all, if anything changes, come to the hospital."

The nod is for her benefit only, and she takes it with a deep inhale.

It thins out after that. The cop and his camera leave, too, after making you take the paperwork needed to file charges. If you change your mind. His number in smeared blue ink on the back. The paramedics go after another futile round of are you sure you don't want to get checked out at the hospital that's decline with a shake of your head.

It's just you and Price now. Your beatup Saturn three spots away from his truck—an old Ford you hadn't been expecting a man like him to drive, with his thick Levi jacket and his steel-toed boots. Standing there with an armful of paper that's going to go in the trash, you're not sure what to do. How to untangle yourself from the claws of this vicious bear that seems content to loom over you like an unasked for cloud, glaring down at you from the bridge of his nose. Expression pinched, like he's displeased. Mad.

You've had enough of angry men, though, and you turn, offering a hollow smile that works it's way around your mouth like a grimace. "Guess I should head home—"

"Running, mm?"

You blink. "Sorry?"

He leans down, all grit and blunt teeth. "That your plan? Runnin' away from all'a this? Find another town. Another motel."

Another man.

He doesn't say it, but it's there. The implication. The idea. It rankles down your spine, a whitehot ooze of shame. Of anger.

"You don't know me," you spit, all anger and indignation. Embarrassment so sharp, it cuts. "You don't know anything about me."

He rocks back on his heel, mouth flattening into an even line. "No, I don't. But I know your type."

"You—"

The indignity is increased tenfold when he meets your ire with an impassive stare, so firm in his assessment of you that he doesn't even bulk when you glare at him. When you rage in quiet fury, shoulders shaking.

"You'll run," he continues, bulling over the vitriol that stutters out in broken squeals of anger. "You'll find a new place. And it'll be fine for a little while but then you'll end up in the same situation because that's all you know, isn't it? S'why you're not pressing charges. Why you got your bag in your back seat. The slightest pressure and you bolt—straight into the same predicament you're in now."

"It's not my fault—"

"No," he grinds the word, firm and sure, and it snatches you by the throat because no one has ever agreed with you on that. It's not your fault. It's just—

"—all you know."

"What am I supposed to do differently, huh? Stay and press charges that won't stick? Wait for him to get out, frothing at the mouth for revenge? Yeah, right," you scoff, rolling your eyes up towards the stale sky. "End up as another statistic? Or—"

Like your mother. It quiets you. Snuffs the flames. All you feel is scraped raw. Hollowed out. Empty and hitting and—

"So you'll just run your whole life? Until it catches up to you, mm? What happens when someone finds you in a place you can't run? When you're all alone, and cornered?"

It tastes like defeat. Resignation. "You think I haven't thought of that before?"

From the corner of your eye, you see him shrug. "Got yourself into a little mess, but it ain't the end of the world. Jus' got to fix it. Can't do that when you run."

"And what's your solution? Find another job, hope that his charges stick? He—"

Drained you financially. Beat you bloody.

You shake your head. "The best thing to do is to leave. I'll be smarter, I'll—"

He scoffs. You ignore it, hands shaking.

"I can't. I just—I can't."

"Come stay with me," he says. Just like that. Stay with me. The sky is blue. The grass is green. Come stay with me. "Got a spare room."

"I don't even know you—"

"People rent to strangers all the time."

"I don't have a job. Money. I can't pay you—"

"Been needin' a receptionist for some time. Pay is fair. Hourly."

You blink, eyes hot. Wet. You feel the sharp edge of hope digging in, that deadly, terrible thing that only ever falls apart when you finally relax.

"Just like that?"

He nods, sharp and firm. "Jus' like that."

"I have a kid," you blurt out, panicked. This conversation is getting away from you. Slipping through your fingers. And the worst is that it sounds so good. Too good. "I'm—I'm pregnant," you add like he doesn't already know. Hadn't heard you mutter it to the paramedic hours ago.

The look he levels you with is an incendiary thing. You feel it in your chest. Deadcentre. "I know," he rasps, head bending down closer to you. "Doesn't change anythin'."

"How could it not?"

"How should it?" He counters.

"In a few months, when the baby is here—"

"I won't change my mind."

"You say that now," you breathe, pulse thudding in your ears. "But when it's screaming in the middle of the night, and—"

His hand reaches out slowly, like he's trying not to startle a horse. Fingers grazing your arm, warm and rough, before closing around your wrist. The one that's bruised and sore. Swollen in his hand. Its done with measured purpose, confidence, that the panic doesn't have time to surge. Instincts too incipient to keep up with the sure, steady way he winds around you.

With his hand on your wrist, fingers folding over the hurt—hiding them—he leans down, thumb stroking along your skittish, unraveling pulse, and makes you meet his stare. Open, maybe, for the first time since you met him. All raw want, naked truth. The bare, fractured look is enough to steal the air in your lungs, snuffing out the innate protests that spume whenever someone offers any sort of help or charity. The no crushed under his heel.

"m'a man of my word," he low, drawing the words out. "I'll be there for the cryin' and the dirty diapers and the sleepless nights."

"And when I can't work for you?"

His lips quirk. "I offer better MAT leave than most places. Reckon you could even do the bloody job from bed."

"Price, that's—this is insane—"

"John," he grunts, giving another shrug before peeling away from you. "Savin' me the trouble of talking to these idiots. Ain't nothin' crazy about that."

"I could be a horrible person. A murderer. Rob you blind, and leave you with you nothing."

It has the opposite effect of scaring him off. If anything, he looks amused. Squares his shoulders, stands to his full—intimidating, impressive—height. Stares down at you with a brow quirked and strange gleam in his eyes.

"Think I can handle myself, love. And if you wanna rob me, bite the hand, so to speak, then I promise you, you won't like the consequences."

You swallow. His tone sparks against your sense of self-preservation, and you fight the urge to take a step back. To put distance between yourself and this grizzly-like man with blunt teeth and sharp claws.

He senses your hesitation. Must because he quiets, shoulders sinking. Hand warm on your skin, giving a slight squeeze before he lets go. You ignore the urge to chase that heat again, and hide a shiver behind a shift.

"How 'bout a test ride, mm? A trial. Stay for a few weeks and then decide if you still want to leave."

Too good to be true. You know this deep down in your marrow. Every instinct inside of you rebelling against this, screaming trap, it's a trap. But there's a truth to what he says, and maybe if you weren't pregnant, you would have flipped him off and ran because men like him aren't kind to girls like you unless they have a reason to be.

You're just not sure what he has to gain in all of this. Why he put himself between you and harm without so much as a sparing glance. Stayed, too, and barked at everyone who got too close. A thunderous shadow full of teeth.

And maybe it's that. The blood concealing into a thick, pulpy plum over the split of his knuckles, the blood on the gravel that isn't yours, the goosebumps rising over the spot he touched, colder than the rest of your skin, that makes you quieten under his heavy stare. Softening into something agreeable. Unreasonable. Instincts shoved into a box.

So you nod and let him place his hand over the small of your back, guiding you to his truck with a firm nudge. Say anything when he helps you in, hands fastening the seatbelt with a clipped I'll be back when he finishes, keeping his wary eyes on you even as he moves quickly towards your car, grabbing your suitcase from the back. Promises to get your car later, too. Bring it back to his house.

And yours, too, he adds, glancing your way after he tosses the suitcase in the backseat, searching for something you're not sure he'll find. So you look away, staring at the dust on the dashboard as he rounds the truck, and slips into the front seat. It smells like him. Fresh leather and the wild. Cedar and moss. Tobacco. Something heady. Masculine. Soaked sage. Loam. Gasoline.

You lean back on the headrest, breathing it in. Trying not to think.

You'll keep your luggage packed. The keys in the ignition. When whatever it is he's planning comes to the forefront, you'll be ready to run.

But right now—

You just want to sleep. Your jaw aches. Your wrist. There's a knot in your stomach—not good for the baby—and it thickens each time you look at his bloodied knuckles curled loosely over the steering wheel, the other on the stick. Close enough that you can feel the heat bleeding into your knee. All fire and spite, and—

Touch her again, and it'll be the last thing you ever fuckin' do.

"Get some rest," he grunts, eyes slanting towards you in a brief, heavy flick. "I'll stop and get some food soon, too, but it's a two hour drive to mine. And you look dead on your feet, sweetheart."

Love. Sweetheart. I won't change my mind.

You swallow down the protest that swells, the lingering residuum of self-preservation that won't let you bear your neck just yet, and offer a slow nod, blaming the easy submission on fatigue. These aches and pains that weep, tender to the touch.

Your eyes slip shut against your better judgement, the warm interior of the truck, his smell, bleeding a sense of soporific comfort you can't remember the last time you ever felt. Just a quick nap, you think. Long enough to rest your eyes—

It's swallowed under the deluge of exhaustion that rushes through when your shoulders drop, lax. He mutters something, but it's awash under the seafoam that fills your ears, lapping waves dragging you further and further away from shore. Something that sounds like girl good but you can't be sure. Hypnagogia is a terrible a thing that likes to spin dreams, play pretend in the cradle of your subconsciousness until the lines between reality and fantasy blur. Ignoring it is easier than admitting that it floods you with a warmth so deep, sweat gathers along your hairline. Feverish and sickly sweet.

Fingers dance along the edge of your brow, rough and coarse, and it's a devastating thing, isn't it? All this tenderness along the broken edges of yourself, nails grazing the fractures like they can be fixed, pushed back into place, and not as if they're about to shatter. It makes you want to lash out even though you can't feel your body anymore, stuck between worlds of wake and rest. Later, maybe, when the phantom press doesn't feel so sweet you'll snap—broken jaw and brittle teeth—at his hand until he remembers to never touch you again. A risk he won't take.

But with the knot in your belly, a baby there, too, and a body more contusion than flesh, you let it happen. Mewl, maybe, a quiet little slip of a thing, and curve into the palm resting over your cheek. Small and docile, leaching comfort as fast as you can before you remember yourself.

in the moonglade, you murmur thank you and swallow down a rough, painful sound when he scoffs under his breath, and says ain't got nothin' to thank me for, sweetheart.

[keithyp00]

When The Quiet Comes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Setting: Post-Endgame, Semi-rural town

Warnings/Tags: Healing, Trust, Emotional Intimacy, Soft Domesticity, Peaceful Slow-Burn Romance, Kissing

Word Count: 1,018

Author Note: Hey guys! This is my first time actually posting one of my writings on a platform (and this one is kinda silly and cringey) but I watched Thunderbolts* on Saturday and it actually launched me headfirst into by Bucky phase again so expect a lot of fanfics in like the next week. Anyways I hope you enjoy it <3

Please do not copy or translate any of my works. Thank you!

The town was too quiet.

That had been Bucky's first thought when he arrived- alone, bags over his shoulder, truck engine still cooling behind him. Not suspiciously quiet, not the kind of quiet that made his hand inch toward a weapon. Just... calm. Peaceful in a way he hadn't expected. He didn't know what to do with that new kind of quiet.

That was until you came along, carrying a stack of books that was definitely too heavy, as well as a grocery bag hung over your right shoulder- one that was tipping your bodies natural point of gravity so you couldn't quite walk straight. You rammed right into him on the sidewalk, the book tumbling onto the concrete with several soft thuds, and muttered apologies started flowing from your lips as well as an awkward laugh as you crouched to gather them.

"God, I'm so sorry. I didn't- are you okay?"

Bucky blinked. He had seen aliens. He had fought a metal man in a flying suit. He had stood toe to toe with Thanos. But he had never seen eyes like yours. Soft. Warm. Unafraid.

"...I'm fine," he'd said, voice hoarse from disuse.

"Good." You flashed a quick, sheepish smile. "First time I've hit someone with 'War and Peace'. I guess that counts for something."

He even surprised himself with the small laugh that bellowed from his chest as a response.

______________________________________________________________

You didn't recognize him.

That was the second thing that shocked him. You offered him coffee, not questions. Company, not curiosity. And slowly- so slowly he barely noticed- Bucky began to anchor himself around you.

You ran a bookstore on the corner. Lived above it in a cozy little apartment that smelled like cedar and ink. You wore knit sweaters, laughed at your own silly jokes, and had a tabby cat named Fig that liked to perch himself on your shoulder like a pirate's parrot. You talked to Bucky like he was just... a man. A grumpy, awkward, very handsome man with hair that some might deem tragic, but not you.

You didn't ask about his past.

You simply asked if he enjoyed lemon cake.

______________________________________________________________

Bucky came by the shop more often. At first, it was once a week. Then twice. Then almost daily under the excuse of "running errands" that suspiciously never seemed to produce groceries.

You noticed the way he looked at the world- as if it might slip out from under him at any second. The way he always sat facing the door. The way his jaw tightened when sirens howled, even faintly, in the distance.

You didn't push.

You simply made space.

"Sit," you told him one late afternoon. Rain tapped against the windows, and the power had flickered twice already. "I'll make tea. You can pretend you're a mysterious Victorian man recovering from a duel."

He blinked. "What?"

You gave a grin. "Just trust me. It's a vibe."

To your eternal surprise, he smiled. Not just a twitch of the lips- a real one- small and tired and a little crooked. But real.

______________________________________________________________

The first time he let you touch the metal arm, it wasn't planned.

You had tripped on the top step of the bookstore staircase, two books in hand and- of course- he caught you without hesitation.

Your hands gripped his forearms instinctively. One warm, flesh and bone. The other- cool vibranium. Your eyes flickered down, then up again, and you didn't move away.

"Sorry," you said, breathing a little harder than usual. "You always catch me when I fall."

His expression changed. You saw the flicker of something behind his eyes- something heavy.

"I didn't always," he replied softly.

You didn't ask what he meant. You didn't have to.

______________________________________________________________

It wasn't until winter that you kissed him.

You'd been putting up lights in the window and Bucky came to help, grumbling about how unnecessary it all was- but he brought you hot cider in a thermos anyway and adjusted the ladder every time it wobbled under the movement of your weight.

The lighted ended up not working.

You cursed under your breath, repeatedly flipping the switch back and forth beneath your fingers. And Bucky- sweet, quiet Bucky- reached over, tilted your chin toward him, and kissed you without a word.

It wasn't rushed. It wasn't fire and teeth and desperation.

It was slow. Careful. Like he was memorizing something sacred.

"I've been thinking about doing that for a long time," he murmured, lips still brushed against yours.

"Then why wait?"

He hesitated. "Didn't think I deserved to."

You touched the side of his face, brushed your thumb along his cheek. "You deserve peace, Bucky. Even if you don't believe it yet- I do."

______________________________________________________________

Peace didn't come overnight.

Some days, Bucky still woke up gasping. Some nights, you found him on your fire escape, knees drawn close to his chest, eyes scanning the dark. The palm of his metal arm resting against his thigh, twitching like it remembered something he didn't want to.

But you never asked him to come back inside. You just joined him. A blanket wrapped around your shoulders, a cup of tea between your palms, silent unless he wanted words.

Sometimes he spoke. And sometimes- when the wind was soft and the town was asleep- he looked at you like he was terrified to admit that this, whatever it was between you, might be the only thing keeping him tethered.

So you stayed.

______________________________________________________________

The first time you heard him laugh in his sleep, you almost cried.

It was a soft sound. A breath of joy. His head nestled into the pillow beside yours, hair mussed, lips parted in a small, crooked grin.

You reached over and touched his cheek and he stirred under the brush of skin.

"What are you lookin' at?" He mumbled, voice like gravel.

"You," you whispered, smiling. "You were dreaming."

"Was I?" He blinked blearily. "About what?"

"I don't know," you smiled, brushing a strand of hair off his forehead. "But you were happy."

He was quiet for a long time. Then, voice low, he said, "You were in it."

[dixonsdarkelf]

➼ I will continue to add to this list as I read.

❤️ fluff | 🖤 angst | 💓 smut | 👀 implied smut | 😉 suggestive content but no smut

I decided to make a collection of my top favorite fics from other writers, so I made this list to compile them all in one place. They're in no particular order & cover a variety of characters. Please make sure you read the warnings. I am not responsible for your consumption, nor are any of the respective authors. Please respect any boundaries the author has in place when it comes to the consumption of their content, such as age restrictions. I hope you enjoy these as much as I do! 🖤

➼ 'Risky Business' by @dixons-sunshine (Daryl Dixon x Reader) 💓 Warnings: Smut, swearing, porn with a little plot, quickie, semi public sex (they're in someone else's bathroom), risk of getting caught, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, aftercare, mentions of pregnancy

➼ 'Sweet Like Candy, But He's Such A Man' by @tinysunshine (Daryl Dixon x Reader) ❤️ 💓 Warnings: Fingering, light dom/sub, pet names, oral, swallowing, slightly rough sex, dirty talk, they fuck on a motorcycle, age gap, formersexworker!reader, trauma bonding, violence, death, slut shaming, bullying

➼ 'Imperfectly Perfect' by @janiehellion (Daryl Dixon x Reader) ❤️ 🖤 Warnings: Hurt to comfort, trauma, mentions of childhood neglect & abandonment, mentions of emotional & physical abuse

➼ 'Don't Scream' by @daryltwdixon (Dark!Daryl Dixon x Reader) 💓 Part 1 Part 2 Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT--horror, blood and implied violence, no walkers, motel room encounters, morally grey reader, predator/prey vibes, dubious situations/consent (Reader consents, but they're trying to convince themself this is a bad idea), serialkiller!Daryl, fear-turned-arousal, misattribution of arousal, thanatos/death drive theory, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (female receiving), some knife play, fear kink

'In Silliness & Mischief' by @letterstodixon (Daryl Dixon x Reader) ❤️ Warnings: None

➼ 'One Night Or Forever?' by @holdmytesseract (Daryl Dixon x Reader) ❤️ 🖤 💓 Warnings: Smut, slight dom/sub dynamics, unprotected p in v (y'all know better), oral (male receiving), Daryl's a little mean in this one, slight angst, a bit of drama, alcohol, drunk-ish Daryl, tipsy Reader, swearing, bickering

➼ 'Teach You' by @daryltwdixon (Daryl Dixon x Reader) 💓 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Warnings: Foreplay, oral (both male & female receiving), unprotected p in v (I do not endorse), dirty talk, fingering, Daryl is a man possessed in one part, Reader is gentle with Daryl in other parts, some of Daryl's POV

➼ 'Sex Deck' by @deansapplepie (Daryl Dixon x Reader) 💓 Warnings: Smut, talks about sex, a sex deck, virgin!reader, virginity loss, age gap (Reader is in her late 20s/early 30s), unprotected p in v (don't do this y'all), fingering, oral (female receiving), creampie

➼ 'The Horror and the Wild' by @lightning-hawke (Daryl Dixon x Reader) ❤️ 🖤 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Warnings: Angst, hurt/sort of comfort, injuries, awful communication skills, canon-typical blood, canon-typical violence, blood, death, injuries, mutual pining, gore, mild sexual content, unnamed animal death and butchering, fluff and bonding

➼ 'Feed My Frankenstein' by @lightning-hawke (Daryl Dixon x Reader) ❤️ 🖤 💓 Warnings: MDNI, 18+ only, coffin sex, mutual pining, sort of established relationship, assumed death of the others, grieving, hurt/comfort, angst, smut with feelings, hand jobs, unprotected p in v, brief mention of pregnancy fears/contraceptives

➼ Domestic playing house drabble by @tinysunshine (Daryl Dixon x Reader) ❤️ 😉 Warnings: Swearing, suggestive content, a lil' spanking

➼ Cuteness aggression drabble by @tinysunshine (Daryl Dixon x Reader) ❤️ 😉 Warnings: Swearing, biting, suggestive content/commentary

➼ 'Performance' by @dixons-sunshine (Scud Frohmeyer x Reader) ❤️ Warnings: None

➼ 'Stay Quiet, Pretty Boy' by @dixons-sunshine (Scud Frohmeyer x Reader) 💓 Warnings: Oral (male receiving), semi-public (they're in the workshop), praise kink, pet names, risk of getting caught, swearing

➼ 'Do You Feel It?' by @stellar-waves (Connor MacManus x Reader) 🖤 Warnings: Major angst, Reader has a panic attack, implication of past self-harm

➼ 'The Only Heaven I'll Be Sent To' by @stellar-waves (Connor MacManus x Reader) ❤️ 🖤 💓 Part 1 Part 2 Warnings: Smut, slight angst, virgin!Connor, unprotected p in v (you know better than this), fingering, handjob, multiple orgasms, explicit language, Catholic guilt, canon-adjacent

➼ 'The Hat Rule' by @ghost-proofbaby (Eddie Munson x Reader) 💓 Warnings: Smut, Reader is dressed as a black cat, 'slutty' costumes, pet names, public teasing, unprotected p in v (again, wrap it up), choking kink, oral (female receiving), ass slapping

➼ 'Pretty Girl' by @daryltwdixon (Joel Miller x Reader) ❤️ 💓 Warnings: MDNI 18+, Joel is down bad in love, self conscious reader, no physical description (except 'soft belly') but reader is insecure of their body, no specific timeline, age gap mentioned but not specified, p in v, oral (female receiving), little bit of ass play (female receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink, soft!joel, he calls you like every pet name in the book. some aftercare

➼ 'Cause I'm So Into You' by @dixons-sunshine (Joel Miller x Reader) ❤️ 💓 Warnings: Swearing, mentions of unrequited feelings, smut, oral (female receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, a lot of petnames from Joel (darling, baby, etc), no use of y/n, maybe ooc Joel.

➼ 'Family Matters' by @daryltwdixon (Joel Miller x Reader) ❤️ 🖤 💓 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 Part 5 Part 6 Part 6.5 Warnings: Fluff, angst, smut, MDNI 18+, p in v, no outbreak, talk of infertility, situation that starts off as definitely not kosher but lowkey evolves into cheating & very unhealthy dynamics, baby makin', breeding kink, dirty talk, size kink, boundaries being crossed, oral (female receiving), rule breaking, riding, Joel starts to catch feelings he shouldn't, some mentions of pregnancy, blowjobs, love triangle (?), jealousy, possessiveness, power play, bad communication, threesome, some dubious consent at first then reader fully consents, Tommy is an asshole, pregnancy, soft/domestic Joel & Tommy, mentions of gender/sex, arguing, fingering, pregnancy kink?, possessive Joel, thigh grinding/riding, handjob, fighting (physical and emotional), labor & delivery

➼ 'Heated' by @dixons-sunshine (Joel Miller x Reader) 💓 Warnings: Smut, swearing, porn without plot, dom!Joel, edging, orgasm denial, praise, dirty talk, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie

➼ 'Do It For Dale' by @daryltwdixon (Joel Miller x Reader) 💓 Warnings: Smut, MDNI 18+, cheerleader!reader, bratty!reader, overprotective!joel, grumpy!joel, sarah's best friend!reader, sbf!reader, bfd!joel, college au, brattamer!joel, no outbreak, p in v, Reader is on birth control, blowjob, oral (female receiving), no use of y/n, riding, dirty talk, tiny bit of degradation but also praise kink, spanking, big girthy age gap (Reader is 21+)

i do not own any of the above mentioned works or characters. each piece of work belongs to its respective author. top gif banner & character name dividers were created by me. three-heart divider was created by @/enchanthings.

[bonefall]

"How big should a Clan territory be?"

For the dozens of people who have asked this over the last couple of years!

This question comes in a lot of forms; "How big are the Clan territories?" "How much space does one Clan need?" "How much land should I give my Clans to exist in?" The answer is a bit complicated, and depends on the type of land, what you're going for exactly, the setting, so on.

But, broadly, there's TWO particular factors at play here; How anthropomorphic you're portraying your warriors, and how productive the land is.

Factor 1: The Anthro Scale

I'm starting with this one because it could you the simpler answer. The Erins write Clan cats like humans in cat bodies, with massive social units and communal living. Realistic feral cats don't act like Clan cats. They are only semi-social, due to domestication.

See, a Clan cat will "share" territory between all of its members, and some Clans have canonically hit populations of over 50 individuals. Real feral colonies consist of "overlapping circles" of somewhere between 2 - 15 cats, most of them related females.

This is relevant because, even in densely populated areas with as much food as they can eat, truly feral colonies will have about 2 cats per 5 acres, capping out at about 15 members. Queens will hang out together and raise their kittens communally, but they will hunt and patrol in their own "circle." These boundaries are violently enforced against outside cats, especially if it's too crowded.

(Toms have circles 5x as big as a queen's, overlapping several territories. They're also considerably less social.)

So, if you wanted to incorporate some cat behavior into your Clan's mindset about how big their territory should be, while still being willing to sacrifice a bit of "realism" for groups over 15-ish members, simply take Clan population and multiply it by 2.5 acres.

30 cats = 75 acres. That's a little under 57 football fields, if you're American, or 50 football fields, if you're European.

Extra reading: How realistic cat territories work. Contains the numbers I'm referencing.

It's also very important to know; feral cat density is completely tied to food availability, the big numbers numbers are for cats whose needs are met. Cats are solitary hunters, and when they feel like they have to work for their food, they become VERY territorial. The density of cats in rural areas can be as low as 1 molly per 15 acres, even lower for toms, and they will leave if hunting is not easy.

THIS IS WHY YOU SHOULD NOT FEED FERAL CATS. Please GOD they are SO invasive, please do not give colonies food, they still hunt when they're full so you just end up concentrating a ton of predators in one place. They are not warriors with a law against disrespecting food, they are just kitty cats with silly kitty instincts

I have a suspicion that most of the people who are asking the question aren't really looking for a "realistic cat" answer, though. We LOVE our big cat Clans with their complicated politics around here. You're probably wondering how much land you need to feed your population!

Factor 2: Land Productivity

The exact amount of space is going to vary a lot, because it's more about productivity of the land to sustain a prey population than it is raw size. Remember what we learned back in Warrior Bites: Dietary Needs; a 30-cat Clan will need approximately 3 pounds of meat (10,500 calories) per day, which is about 2 rabbits, or 105 mice.

Here's some visual examples of what I mean. This one (1) acre homestead...

Has 20 patches of high-value crops, plus an orchard, AND livestock pens. This territory alone could attract enough crows, mice, rats, rabbits, and sparrows to feed all those cats daily. That's not even counting the humans themselves, who may be friendly enough to the colony to toss them kibble occasionally.

(this is why cats domesticated themselves. Even without the free food from the humans, farms are extremely productive hunting grounds.)

Meanwhile, the Edmonton Mall, which is a whopping five (5) acres...

Would be utterly barren. Best food you're going to get out of this wasteland is the leftovers humans toss out, and maybe the rats and pigeons that scavenge as well. It's 5x the space, and yet, infinitely harder to feed the same amount of cats.

So, the most helpful bit of advice I'm gonna give you is this; DON'T ask yourself "how big should this territory be?" You're starting with the wrong question. Start with a real location, and think about how you'd find 3 pounds of meat a day in that area.

It will be a LOT easier to think about the logistics in those terms, and this will lead you to the waaay more productive (and fun) worldbuilding questions. Such as;

"Where would the good hunting spots be?"

"What kinds of animals would they be eating? What sorts of beasts can threaten them, here?"

"How many of these animals would my 30 cat Clan need to hunt a day to equal about 3 pounds?"

"Where would these animals be getting THEIR food?"

"Is there enough habitat in the area for the prey to breed and nest? If not, is there more land beyond the territory that the prey is coming from?"

"Where would infrastructure like dens, walls, and dirtplaces go? What would these be made of?"

"Are there any neat spots for the cats to casually hang out on?"

"What would make for a super cool arena for my climactic narrative boss fights?"

"Does this area have unique stage hazards that my cats would have to learn to deal with?"

"Which sorts of plants and herbs would they encounter?"

If your Clan is tool-using, like BB!Clans are, then you can ask even more advanced questions. Like, where you'd find kindle for fire, what objects you can use as crafting materials, and what might make for unique trade goods.

Think about other things related to your Clan's biome-- in a tundra or desert, there will be less for prey to eat, so the territory will be large to cope with the low density. If there's a major body of water, they might have a constant supply of aquatic prey from upstream. Hunting grounds might change based on the seasons.

Also remember not to underestimate how fast small animals breed, and how many of them there can be in one area. Even using low estimates, 1 female mouse has 6 pups, 7 x 6 = 42, 42 x 6 = 252, 252 x 6 = 1,452. It takes only 4 months for mouse population growth to get exponentially ridiculous.

Finally, remember that prey can vary. A well run Clan would be able to generally understand when they've been overhunting one particular species, and start shifting gears to lift the "pressure" off that population.

(In my cultural expansions series, this management task is assigned to one of the new roles-- the Head of Hunting.)

[serpentface]

Just dropping some illustrations of animals that I've only mentioned in passing (mostly in regional food posts), found within claimed Imperial Wardi territory.

Left to right (all to scale):

Grynaig, crested eagle, taarn, unkata, piispiispi, anara, nechoi.

Descriptions below:

The grynaig, a type of pigeon found primarily in the highlands. They come in a few local color morphs, ranging from this brown-white to a chestnut color (mostly dependent on the types of rocks they nest upon). They nest on the tops and sides of boulders and cliffs, out of reach from most ground-based predators and camouflaged from predatory birds above. They are commonly hunted for food, and are regarded as having beautiful calls.

The crested eagle, found widely across the region. They are specialized predators of snakes and will readily attack highly venomous species, having thick-skinned, pebbly textured legs as defense against bites. They will also take other reptiles, and occasionally prey on small birds and mammals. Among the peoples of the highlands, widespread belief holds these to be (one of many) birds that ancestors will send or take the form of in order to provide guidance and give omens to the living. Crested eagles are often an omen of hidden danger, be it a figurative or literal snake in the grass.

The taarn, a pheasant native to the highlands and domesticated for meat and eggs. The domestic stock has several color morphs and a few distinct breeds, a wild male taarn is pictured here. Wild taarn can be found in high altitudes in the warm dry season, and migrate down to the river valleys in the cold wet season. Taarn form the vast majority of captive fowl in the highlands, being the most tolerant of cooler, high altitude conditions. Males possess sharp spurs, and are used regionally for cockfighting. Cockfighting is also popular in parts of the Imperial Wardi cultural sphere and taarn may be exported largely for this purpose, being imagined as uniquely fierce, having been shaped by their hostile environment (in reality, they don't tend to fare well against the common rooster).

The unkata, a genus of large flightless birds. Several species can be found in the region, all of which are flightless and relatively large. The one here is a male savannah unkata in breeding plumage (about the size of a cassowary). Male unkata often have colorful wings, and all possess long, unfeathered quills. The wings are shaken as a part of courtship displays, creating a rattling sound and dazzling visual effect. These birds are herbivores and feed on grass, leaves, tender shoots, and fruit, but will consume insects and small mammals/reptiles when the opportunity presents itself. Most unkata are commonly hunted as wild game, and their large eggs are often prized as food and used for carving.

The piispiispi, named for its devastatingly silly warning cries (the sound is a shrill PeEEESSsss-PeEEESSsss-PIPIPIPIPI!). This is a fairly large and stocky lagomorph that lives only in the highlands and almost exclusively at high altitudes (with rabbits filling their niches in the river valleys). They subsist primarily on grasses, and are known agricultural pests. They pack on substantial weight prior to the winters (which is the best time to hunt them for rich, fatty meat), but do not truly hibernate, instead alternating between periods of low activity in their burrows and emerging to graze (the winters here are relatively warm, and snow cover is often patchy or impermanent at all but the highest altitudes).

The anara, a genus of large semi-aquatic rodent. Two species can be found in the region (the larger of which is shown here, both look very similar) and can be found throughout in most rivers, lakes, ponds, and wetlands. Their tail is flattened vertically and used to propel them through water, though they retain (relatively) long legs, as they spend much of their time foraging on land, usually staying within a couple hundred feet of water. They are considered agricultural pests, and are commonly hunted for pest control and their meat (particularly the tail, which is uniquely rich and fatty).

They construct small lodges along banks for shelter in a similar capacity to beavers. They do not build dams, but dig canals to connect bodies of water (for ease of movement and to flee from predators). These canals are often expanded by the comings and goings of an-nechoi, and together the two species are of key ecological significance to their environments, vastly expanding the size of wetlands and the reach of seasonal floods. The two species also seem to get along quite well (especially given the notoriously bad temper of an-nechoi, and the bite-sized nature of anara), often peacefully sharing the same habitats in close quarters. Young anara are sometimes even seen resting on the backs of submerged an-nechoi. This connection is widely noted, and a subject of many regional animal folktales.

Nechoi, a family of pig-like opportunistic omnivores. The one pictured here is a scrub nechoi, one of the larger in the region (though dwarved by their somewhat distant, semi-aquatic an-nechoi relatives). These are the most widespread and generalized, and fare well in dry environments (mostly being found in the grasslands and savannahs). The skin of this species is exposed (though they bear a dense mane and thick, wiry hairs throughout), and they will coat themselves in mud and dust to protect against the sun and parasites. This particular species bears impressive tusks in the boars, and smaller tusks in the sows (shown here), and they are often hunted for their ivory.

Most nechoi bear very powerful jaws with a wide gape, and boars will fight over territory and mates by yawning and slashing at each other with their sharp teeth. These conflicts result in a scarred appearance in most older boars, and can sometimes be fatal. As with most nechoi, these animals feed primarily as browsers, but will readily scavenge and may opportunistically take live prey, mostly arthropods and small vertebrates. Predatory attacks on animals bigger than they can fit into their mouths are rare, but larger nechoi such as these are considered dangerous, and may readily eat humans injured or killed in territorial or defensive aggression. These more dangerous nechoi are sometimes subjects to taboos against eating the flesh of man-eaters, though smaller nechoi are common game animals.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 20 pt. 1- I Do

Summary: It's finally here, the day you've been waiting for since the day Javi came into your life and changed it for the better- It's your wedding day, and things couldn't be more perfect. Except for the fact that you and Javi can barley contain your excitement as you wait to see each other.

Word Count: 11.4K (If this wasn't 2 parts, this would be 30k long and wouldn't be finished until May)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, praise kink, marriage kink (?), kind of semi-public sex (they're gettin' busy in the bathroom), Kind of getting caught (Steve needs to mind his own business), wedding things!!, family dynamics, mentions of death/grief, lots of emotions, Javi being an anxious, blubbering, hot mess, Javi being so in love and is so excited to spend the rest of his life with you that it physically hurts me (this chapter is lots of fluff and feelings and not as much smut, sorry!! Don't worry, there's PLENTY more to come next chapter 🤪)

A/N: Hi friends!!! Well, she's finally here, the moment we've all been waiting for- our two favorite idiots are finally getting married 😭💕 While I would have loved to make this one chapter, it literally would have been SO long, and Lord knows when I actually would have finished with it. So this chapter is the morning leading up to the ceremony, and part 2 will be the ceremony and reception!! I'm not even gonna lie, I bawled several times writing this chapter. These two mean so much to me, and I'm so honored that you care enough about them to be invested in my silly little story, too 🥺 HAPPY WEDDING DAY!!!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

For the better part of his life, Javier Peña was convinced there was nothing more soul-crushingly painful and miserable than a wedding. On a day that was supposed to be filled with happiness and joy, Javi had spent more years than he’d like to admit doing anything to avoid the occasion all together. Because for him, weddings had meant none of those things. Weddings had only served as yet another reminder of the failure he had chalked himself up to be. 

Leaving Lorraine at the altar and running away to Colombia. 

Watching the successes of everyone else’s blissful domestic lives play out in front of him, while he’d never felt so alone. 

Convincing himself that he would never be worthy of love because of the terrible person that he’d become. 

Weddings had been something that Javier Peña hated more than most things in life. 

But that was until he met you. 

Because today, on the morning of his own wedding, Javi was quite literally bursting at the seams with excitement, goofy grin stretched from ear to ear knowing that in a few short hours, he got to marry the most amazing, beautiful, perfect woman he had ever met. And even though the reality had set in that today was finally the day the two of you started your forever together, he was positive that he’d never get over the reality that you would always be his. 

As he pulled his truck up the driveway to your new home where he should have been sleeping for the better half of last night, there was a part of him that couldn’t have been more thankful he had been able to sneak in just a few more hours with you before sunrise, knowing the anxious anticipation of waiting to see you all day, let alone see you in your wedding dress at the other end of the aisle, was enough to already have his heart beating a million miles a minute at the ripe hours of the morning. 

While he should have known better his Dad would already be well awake by the time he snuck back home, Chucho’s welcoming grin from the front porch was already laced with enough forgiveness for Javi to hope he’d be spared at least some shit from his father. 

“”Morning, mijo.” Chucho chuckled, watching Javi’s sheepish stride up the driveway towards the house, slowly sipping on his cup of coffee with a boyish grin on his face, knowing damn well where his son had been without having to say a word. 

“I already know what you’re gonna say, Pops.” Javi sighed, shaking his head in embarrassment as he approached his dad, letting out a soft grunt as he took a seat next to his father on the top step of the front porch. 

“I haven’t said anything, Javier. Do you have something you want to say?” Chucho couldn’t help but snicker, raising his eyebrows at his son, as he watched his cheeks turn a petrified pink. 

“Nope, I am- oh, fuck me- nope I am, uh, all good.” Javi stammered, burying his hands in his face before running them through the sleepy curls of his hair and over the nape of his neck, his eyes still peeled to the ground, avoiding Chucho’s smug grin. 

“Then all I have to say is,” Cucho paused, taking another swig of coffee, “I hope you never stop loving her the way that you do now.” Javi looked up at his dad in confusion, wondering how his sneaking out wasn’t shaping up to be some sort of teenage scolding from his father. “I already know that you know you are a very, very lucky man Javier, but I also hope that you know you are going to make a wonderful husband. Eres un buen hombre. Estoy muy feliz por ti, mijo. Tu madre también lo estaría. Muy feliz.” (You are a good man. I am so happy for you, son. Your mom would be, too. So happy.) 

Letting his eyes shift off his feet where they had been stuck, Javi looked back up at his father, tears welling in his eyes at Chucho’s reassuring smile, reaching out to wrap his arm around his son, pulling him close enough to let Javi’s head fall on his shoulder, the two sitting for a quiet moment in silence. 

Javi couldn’t help but feel a twinge in his heart, thinking about the fact his mom wouldn’t be with him for the biggest day of his life. His mother had left this world when Javi was at his lowest- alone and halfway across the globe, fighting for a cause he wasn’t even sure he believed in. It had always haunted him that his mom had died worried that her son had become a broken man, and would never be proud of the person he’d turned out to be. When he returned home, he felt even worse thinking that his one living parent probably felt that way, too. 

But what brought him solace in a time that he needed it most, was you. You had given him a reason to make his parents proud, to make himself proud. While his mom would never be able to tell him the words he so desperately longed to hear, he knew in his heart that the life he’d built because of you was all the comfort he needed to prove to himself Lucia was smiling down on him when he needed it most. And as he looked up at the sky, the pink and orange rays of the beautiful sunrise beginning to spill over the horizon, he had never been more sure that even though his mom couldn’t physically be by his side, that Lucia Peña would still be with him every step of the way.  

“Fuck, I miss her, Pops. I wish she was here.” 

“She is, Javier. She always will be.” 

After soaking in a few more quiet moments together staring out into the shimmering sunrise, Chucho let out a content sigh, giving Javi a gentle pat on the back and rustling the dark curls of his son’s thick hair. 

“But, if there is one thing I know about your Mother, it’s that  I can practically hear her screeching at us wasting our time being sad about her on the happiest day of your life. Chucho, por qué piedres el tiempo estar triste? Basta de quejarte! Nuestro hijo se está casando, pendejo!” (Why are you wasting your time being sad! Stop moping! Our son is getting married, stupid.) Chucho mocked, shaking his head at the sky at the scolding he knew he’d be getting from his wife, making him and Javi burst into laughter. “And, if there’s another thing I know about your mother,” Chucho paused again, letting out a loud grunt as he pushed himself up to stand, resting his arm on Javi’s shoulder, “it’s that her and I would both agree there better be a nieto (grandchild) in our lives 9 months from now. Dios mío (oh my God), Javier, even on the night before your wedding you two can’t keep your hands to yourselves! I am truly surprised I don’t have 14 grandchildren already.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Pops….” Javi whispered to himself over his dad’s schoolgirl snickers, watching his son’s face fall flush once again, standing up to follow behind his dad back inside as Chuhco began to waddle his way across the porch. 

Although Javi could have tried to plead his case to his dad to prove his innocence, truth be told, today, he really didn’t care. Today, the only thing he cared about was that in just a few short hours, he got to meet you, his wife, at the end of the aisle and spend his forever with the woman he loved more than life itself. For the first time in his life, Javier Peña couldn’t have been more excited for a wedding. 

You weren’t sure how many more times you had read the scratchy print scribbled across the bright yellow post-it Javi had left behind on his pillow before he had snuck out for the morning, but you did know that your heart beat faster and faster in anxious anticipation with every glance over his words, counting down the second until you got to see him again. 

You had kept yourself in your room, convinced that your excited impatience would have you awake well before everyone else still sleeping at the ranch, but as you heard clanging and bickering starting to echo from the kitchen, you should have known better that your mom and Connie would be up to something to kick start your wedding day. 

With a yawn and stretch of your arms above your head, you flopped yourself out of bed, exchanging Javi’s worn t-shirt and sleep shorts for the white pajama set your mom had insisted she buy for you to get ready in as a compromise for your adamant despise at the white silky robe that had “bride” stitched across it in big pink letters that she had begged to buy you. 

Shuffling down the hallway, the commotion in the kitchen only became increasingly louder, now realizing almost everyone must be awake for whatever antics were taking place for the early hours of the morning. As you turned the corner, you were greeted by an adorable “Happy Wedding Day!” banner that had been made by the girls hanging on the wall, decorated with adorable crayon drawings of flowers, you and Javi, and all of the horses of the Peña ranch dressed in wedding apparel. As your eyes scanned across the rest of the room, the kitchen table was already full of breakfast, balloons dangled from the ceiling, and your mom and Connie were actively working on filling up what was most likely one too many glasses of mimosas.  

“Happy wedding day, Auntie Bear!” A little voice cooed behind you, looking down to see a still very sleepy Olivia, hair still crazed and bed ridden as she wrapped herself around your hip, squeezing you in a tight hug. 

“Ahhhhh, there’s the bride!!” Your mom shrieked, her pitch enough to make everyone in the room wince as she barreled towards you, joining Olivia to engulf you in her grasp. After everyone had recovered from your mom’s shrill greeting, everyone else had soon joined in on squeezing you in a giant group hug, the gesture in itself making you smile, but the physical restraint in the middle of a human sandwich being a little too much for you this early in the morning. 

“Thanks guys. I uh, I would like to make it out alive for my wedding so maybe if we don’t squish me to death, that would be great.” You grunted, trying to wriggle out of the arms squishing your body, hoping that someone would get the hint. 

“Alright, I think she’s probably had enough.” Connie laughed, finally noticing the look on your face, prompting everyone to give you at least a little breathing room. 

“I’m just so excited for you! I can’t believe you’re getting married, sweetie!” Your mom, clearly not picking up on the hint, was now back to squeezing you in a bear hug again tight enough to make your eyes pop out of your head. “Okay, sorry, sorry, I’m done now, just had to get one last one out of my system… for now. Here, have a seat, honey,” Your mom gestured towards the kitchen table, pulling out a chair for you to sit in, “we have about an hour before we have to start doing hair and makeup but we have plenty of breakfast for you to choose from before we get the day started. How’d you sleep?” 

“Oh, um- fine, I um, I slept fine.” You lied, now sheepishly staring down at the overflowing plate of breakfast food your mom had set in front of you, taking a hefty bite of pancake before looking back up, your eyes meeting Connie’s, a suspicious smirk gleaming on her face as she stared at you, crossing your arms over your chest as you swallowed your food with a more audible than intended gulp. 

“Oh good!” Your mom replied, obvious to yours and Connie’s silent interaction as she meandered around the kitchen. “Well, eat up, I’m off to go check on some things outside, but by the time I get back in here, that plate better be cleared! Girls, come help Grandma, let your Aunt finish her breakfast!” 

“Okay!” Your nieces giggled, following behind your mom into the backyard, leaving you and Connie alone in the kitchen, hearing her silently laugh to herself as she sat down next to you at the table. 

“Good sleep, huh? Good sleep that definitely had nothing to do with Javi’s truck that left here at 6:00 AM this morning?” Connie snickered, giving you a little wink as your cheeks turned pink with embarrassment, letting out a defeated sigh. 

“I promise it’s not what you think. I actually couldn’t sleep and I called Javi and he ended up coming over so I wouldn’t be up the whole night. I told him he didn’t have to, but I was up and stressed and having him here was the only thing that was going to help. It was just sleep, I promise.” 

“It’s okay, I believe you. I couldn’t sleep the night before my wedding either. I’m pretty sure if I did what you had done, Steve would have slept right through the phone call, or still would have been too drunk to drive over.” The two of you quietly giggled to yourselves as Connie reached out for your hand, holding it in hers, “I hope you know that he loves you so much. It always broke my heart to see Javi go through what he did, and how hard on himself he was because of it. You really are the best thing that could have ever happened to him. I’m so happy for the two of you, I couldn’t be more excited for today, honey.” 

Reaching across the table, Connie wrapped her arms around you, squeezing you in another hug, trying to hold back your sniffles as you felt happy tears beginning to well in your eyes. 

“Thank you, Connie.” 

“Of course. Now, you better pick what you want from that breakfast and throw away the rest before your mom gets back, I don’t think either one of us wants to be responsible for telling her that her food wasn’t sufficient enough for you.” 

You snorted, rolling your eyes at the thought of the dismay your mom would be in thinking that you didn’t get enough to eat before your big day as you put a reasonable amount of breakfast on a new plate to eat, discarding the other heaping pile that your mom had left you. 

“You are a smart woman, Connie Murphy.” 

“So I’ve been told.” 

The rest of the morning seemed to move by at an exponential pace- At the Pena ranch, hair and makeup was well underway for everyone, and running on time with incredible efficiency from the detailed schedule that your mom and Connie had put together. Even though your body was riddled with endless amounts of anxious anticipation and excitement as the clock ticked closer and closer to when Javi and the rest of the boys would finally get here, you were pleasantly surprised at how fun the morning had ended up being with all the girls, especially since your nieces and the Murphy girls had insisted on putting on a hilarious sing along spectacular for the majority of the time for entertainment while you got ready. 

Over at your new house, however, with the only getting ready that Javi needed to do being taking a shower and putting on his suit, the boys were convinced that he was going to put a hole in the floor from his anxious pacing as he counted down the minutes to leave. 

“Jav, have a beer, man, you just put this floor in, I think your wife’s gonna be pissed when she finds out she has to replace it before y’all even move in because you can’t sit still.” Steve chuckled, taking a sip out of his can before nudging your brothers sitting next to him on the couch as they watched their friend and future brother in law tread back and forth across the living room for what felt like the 117th time since they’d sat down. 

“I think I have to agree with Steve on this one, Javier, you are making me anxious and I’m not even the one getting married.” Chucho chimed in from the armchair seated next to the couch. 

“I’ll second what Steve said, man. Have a beer, Javi. You haven’t shut up all day about how fuckin’ excited you are, so what’s got you so worked up? You’ve seen her in a dress before dude, this one’s just white.” Your brother David snorted, his joke now soliciting some eye rolls from the rest of the boys, considering David was about single as they came, and was the only one of the group who wasn’t even remotely close to being married. 

“It’s a fucking wedding dress, you dingus, there’s obviously a difference.” Your dad groaned, walking up to your brother to give him a prompt smack in the back of the head, making your other brother Charlie snicker to himself, until he also decided to greet him with an equally harsh slap for good measure. 

“What the fuck was that for? I didn’t say anything!” Charlie winced, holding his hands up in defense. 

“Tell your brother to stop being an ass! She’s your sister too, for Christ’s Sake, you’re not gonna stand up for her either?! Jesus you two are the biggest idiots I’ve ever met. Even Patrick would have had enough common sense to keep that one in his head. Well, maybe not, but that’s besides the point.” That one at least cracked a little smile from your brothers, wishing that Patrick would have been here to see their sister’s big day, and to distribute the slapping pain more equally between the pair. 

“I just… Fuck, I just wanna see her. I can’t wait to see her. I’ve never wanted anything so bad in my whole life. The suspense is fucking killing me.” Javi signed, resting one hand on his hip before running his hand through his hair, anxiously drumming his fingers on his side, foot tapping on the well worn path he had been treading on the hardwood floor of the living room. 

Chucho chuckled, resting his hands on his knees and pushing himself up to stand with a low grunt, making his way over to his son, resting his hand on his shoulder as he looked up at him. “Eres como tu madre.. Impaciente. (You are just like your mother… Impatient). Mijo, I remember when I married your mother, she was so excited that she actually asked if we could start the wedding an hour early, just so we could see each other sooner. I can almost hear her laughing at the fact that her son is no better than her. How I wish she were here to see this. Soon, Javier. I promise.” 

“Do you think she’s gonna like the gift? You made sure she has it for today, right? And everything from her brothers too?” Javi asked, nervously biting at the tip of his thumb as he glanced down at his father before looking over at David and Charlie sitting on the couch, smiling back at him. 

“Yes, Javier. I triple checked last night. I’m sure that she will love it. I know she will love it. All of it. Now, why don’t you go put on your suit and we can leave a little ahead of schedule, I will just make sure to drive extra slow. Even slower than normal. I think if we wait any longer you may actually combust.” He teased, pulling Javi into a tight hug before releasing him, giving him a gentle pat on the back. 

“Alright boys, you heard the man, get your sorry asses moving and let’s get these monkey suits on, it’s time to get this boy married!” David cheered, holding up his beer to toast Javi before promptly chugging the rest of it down his throat and slamming it down on the table, soliciting another round of eye rolls and muffled laughter from the crowd. 

Silently nodding and smiling to himself, letting out one last reassuring breath before looking at the boys standing in front of him. 

“Fuck. I’m gonna get married.” 

Back at the ranch, the last of getting ready was beginning to wrap up, all the girls' hair and makeup finally finished, and the youngest of the crew giddily dancing in their flower girl dresses, twirling and swirling in excitement at their pristine outfits as they gathered around you, patiently awaiting for you to get into your own wedding dress.  

For as long as you’d wanted to get married, you’d always known that you wanted your wedding dress to be simple- No excessive frills, poof, glitter, or anything that made you feel like you were playing dress up for the world’s goofiest fashion show, simply because it was your wedding, and your dress needed to reflect the extravagance of the event. Your style choice came as a surprise to no one, given the fact you had practically lived in your brother’s hand-me-down’s until the 8th grade, and even when your mom had flown down a few months ago to go dress shopping with you and Connie, she had even laid down the hammer with one of the wedding dress consultants that you wouldn’t even step anywhere near a dress that was an ounce too over the top. 

That’s why you were absolutely shocked that despite your firm parameters around what you wanted to wear for your big day, that you fell in love with the very first dress you tried on, and never looked back. 

It was everything you wanted and never you needed in a dress- a simple a-line skirt with thin straps that ran across your shoulders and scooped down your back, along with a delicate, lacy floral pattern stitched across your top that flowed down the wispy length of your gown. There were few times that you had ever admitted it to yourself, but you had truly never felt more beautiful than when you were wearing that dress, and when you had tried it on for the first time, only to turn around to see the tears welling in your mom and Connie’s eyes as you revealed it to them, it was every confirmation that you needed that this dress was made for you. 

And while you had been counting down the days in excitement, waiting to put your dress on for your big day, Javi had been counting down along with you, to the point where Connie had made the executive decision to keep the dress at her house to prevent any preemptive peeking, considering that Javi had spent every day since you had bought your dress telling you how he couldn’t wait to see how beautiful you were going to look in it, without even knowing a single clue about what you had boughten, besides your lovingly sarcastic and vague “It’s a dress, and it’s white, Jav.” 

But after all the time you had spent imagining what it would be like to finally put your dress on for your actual wedding day, you almost couldn’t believe that you were finally here, carefully taking the straps off the hanger where it had been resting, holding the beautiful, white fabric out in front of you with a goofy grin spread across your face, eyeing down the outfit that meant you got to spend forever with your best friend. 

“You ready to put it on?” Connie asked softly, her hand resting on your shoulder as she stepped behind you, excitedly gazing at your dress right alongside you. 

“Yeah.” You smiled, gently nodding your head as you looked back at Connie, taking one last deep breath before passing off the dress to her before shimmying out of your clothes, letting them fall to a pile on the floor before turning to Connie, stepping into the opening of the dress and carefully pulling each strap over your shoulders while she pulled the zipper along your back, letting out a little sigh of relief as it clasped at the top. With one more long inhale, you slowly turned around to face everyone, eagerly awaiting your reveal, picking up your gown with a little floof as it gently draped around you, meeting the tears and smiles painted across everyone’s faces while they gazed at you. 

“Auntie Bear, you look like a princess! Uncle Javi is gonna think that you look like the most beautifulest person he’s ever seen.” Olivia squealed, jumping up and down in excitement before running over to you, wrapping her little arms around your waist in a tight hug. 

“Oh sweetheart…. You look absolutely stunning.” Your mom sniffled through her tears, holding her hands crossed over her chest, soaking in your full wedding ensemble. 

“You look gorgeous. Like, seriously. I hope you know that Javi’s gonna lose his mind when he sees you in this.” Connie giggled, giving you a wink and a playful nudge, looking you up and down in astonishment. 

Stepping over to see yourself in the mirror, your heart skipped a beat to see yourself, your stomach churning with anxious, excited butterflies knowing that you were only getting closer and closer to finally seeing Javi and his reaction, trying your best to not your smirk grow too wide between your warm cheeks, thinking about his reaction. 

“You really think he’s gonna like it?” You asked, your eyes still fixed at your reflection in the mirror, gently swaying your lacy, floral skirt back and forth, running your hand against the delicate fabric. 

“Honey, I’ve watched that man ogle over you in a hockey jersey. I told the boys they’re in charge of making sure he doesn’t faint when you walk down the aisle.” Your mom teased, Connie nodding her head in agreement. 

“I’m gonna second your mom on this one, girl. Steve has a running bet with the guys on how long it takes Javi to cry after he sees you. I think the over/under is 2 seconds, but after seeing you right now, I’m convinced he’s all waterworks from the moment he lays eyes on you.” 

Connie’s comment made you laugh to yourself, shaking your head at the idea of Javi instantly bursting into tears from just the sight of you, but when you thought about seeing Javi in his tux (that you had already seen before, multiple times) and what a mess you were going to be, maybe the boy’s betting line didn’t seem so unfair after all. 

“Speaking of tears…” Connie smirked at your mom, nodding at her to signify some little secret they seemed to be in on, “There’s one last thing you need to see before… Well, we’ll let you open it up and find out.” 

With that, your mom reached over to one of the tables where a white box with a neatly wrapped bow had been hidden, your mom passing it to Connie before then passing it over to you, making you tilt your head in confusion as you took the box in your hands, looking back and forth between your mom, Connie and the box waiting for some sort of explanation. 

“What is this?” you questioned, still puzzled as you noticed the gift tag hidden under the bow, gently peeling it open, their suspicious smirks beginning to spread as you read the all too familiar scratchy handwriting inside. 

To: Osita

Love: Javi

Now even more confused, you carefully began unwrapping the bow from around the packaging, letting the ribbon fall to the floor, followed by the lid of the box, revealing another longer note from Javi, resting on top of a bed of neatly folded tissue paper. You sat down in one of the chairs close by, letting the box rest on your lap as you held the note in your hands, already beginning to tremble as you felt the tears start to well in your eyes as you began to read. 

Osita, 

I knew from the moment I met you, that I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you. I can’t believe that day is finally here. I hope that this day is everything that you could ever dream it to be. 

I hope you know that if I could I would give you everything. The moon, the sun, the stars- if you wanted it, I would give it to you. 

But I know that no matter how hard I try, there is one thing I know can’t give to you, and that’s the presence of the people who aren’t with us anymore. 

And while I can’t bring back your brother or my mom to be here today, I hope that what’s in this box will remind you that they’ll always be here for you, no matter what. 

I know my mom would have wanted you to have this. There’s not a day that goes by that I wish she could have met you. She would have loved you so much. I hope she knows that you’re the best thing that could have ever happened to me. 

Your family was able to find something of your brother’s for you to have on here too- I wish I could have met him. I hope he knows how much I love you, and the beautiful and resilient woman you’ve become. I hope he knows how proud I am of you. 

I can’t wait to see you, amor. I can’t even imagine how beautiful you look right now. I’m the luckiest man in the world. 

I love you more than words, and I promise I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life making sure you know it. 

Happy Wedding Day, Osita. Soy tuyo para siempre (I’m yours forever). 

-J 

You could feel your heart practically exploding after reading what Javi had wrote for you, wiping away the wetness from your cheeks, you took a deep breath as you carefully set down his note next to you before ever so slowly peeling back the layers of tissue paper folded on top of one another, hiding the gift hidden beneath them. As the last layer of the delicate paper was shed, you let out a gasp, you hand covering your mouth in shock as you put together the pieces of Javi’s note and the present now sitting in your lap, looking up at everyone else in the room, nodding back at you with sympathetic smiles and tears in their eyes at your realization. 

Not only had Javi had given you his mother’s wedding veil to wear, but stitched in the bottom corner was a patch of Patrick’s old hockey jerseys, a small number 2 from his arm sleeve, the number he had worn for every jersey he had ever played in. 

“Oh my… Oh my god? I can’t, I- how did you- oh my god.” You whispered to yourself, your voice trembling in disbelief, tears now streaming down your face as you held the veil in your hands, your thumb gently tracing over the worn patch of Patrick’s jersey, truly too stunned to speak at what Javi had done for you, to make sure a piece of two people who were no longer with you could still be a part of the biggest day of your life.

“Can I put it on?” Your mom asked, smiling at you with tears in her eyes, walking towards you as you nodded, handing her over the veil as she gently nestled it into your hair, straightening it out behind you, even more tears streaming down her face while she watched your reaction in the mirror. 

Not only was Lucia’s veil absolutely beautiful, if you hadn’t known any better, you would have thought Javi had asked someone to see what your dress looked like to pick out a veil that matched it perfectly. Like it truly was meant to be.

Still too shocked to form any sort of coherent thought, you stared at yourself in the mirror, silently smiling and crying at your reflection until a soft knock came from outside the bedroom door, making everyone in the room whip their heads around to see all of the boys who had just arrived peeking through the door frame, waiting in anticipation. 

“Can we come in? We’re dyin’ to see you, Cubby. Well, the one who’s dyin to see you the most we banished to the outside so he wasn’t even tempted to come in, but the rest of us fools still wanna see you too.” Your dad’s voice chuckled from behind the door, making you break from your crying just enough to let a soft laugh escape from your chest, nodding your head as you turned around to greet the gang gathered at the door. 

Growing up the youngest of 3 brothers, sentimental wasn’t a term thrown around in your household very often. Of course you loved your family, and they loved you, but you and your brothers had often joked that it’d probably be easier to projectile vomit than to actually say the words “I love you” eachother. So that’s why when your dad and brothers walked through the door with awestruck looks on their faces, you couldn’t help but start crying even more. 

Well, until they actually got a chance to speak. 

“Don’t cry you dingus, you’re gonna mess up all your makeup. And god knows how long it took to try and make you look like you didn’t just crawl out of a garbage can.” David quietly snickered, pulling you in for a much gentler than usual headlock before wrapping his arms around you for a legitimate hug. 

“Fuck off, David. How many people had to help you put that suit on, huh? You use every last brain cell trying to do up those buttons?” You teased back, trying to wipe the tears that had been rolling down your cheeks before giving him a loving slap to the stomach, making the two of you laugh even more. 

“You know his dumbass needed all the help he could get.” Charlie joked, pulling you in for another hug before stepping back to look you up and down, “Not too shabby. You clean up good, Cubby.” 

“Thanks Charlie.” 

The last one to step towards you was your dad, who you could tell was trying with everything in him not to absolutely burst into tears, putting one hand on your shoulder as he smiled at you. “I’ll say it once and I won’t say it again because you know as well as I do I’m not good with the sappy shit. You look beautiful, Cubby. I’m so proud of you. I know Patrick would have been too. Although that motherfucker is probably pissed at us that we cut the number off of his favorite jersey, but I think he’ll forgive us.” Wrapping you in a tight squeeze, your dad engulfed you in a bear hug, quickly followed by your brothers and your mom, trapping you in the center of their bodies, knowing you all were wishing there was one more person there in your group to fill in your hug. 

“I love you guys. Thank you.” You whispered, just loud enough to make sure they could hear, but quiet enough that even though your brothers had heard it, just this once, they wouldn’t give you shit for it. And just this once, everyone seemed to silently agree that they really, truly, did love you too. 

After a few more seconds of your group hug, there was another soft knock on the door, followed by another familiar voice, Chucho and Steve now peeking through the doorway to say hello. 

“Is it okay if we come in, Mija?” Chuco asked, already halfway through the door in excitement. 

“Yes, of course.” You sniffed, breaking free from the middle of your group hug to greet Chucho, less than shocked that his hug was almost tighter than the 4 other members of your family combined. 

“Mija… Mija, you look so beautiful. Oh, goodness. I had always saved this veil one day, just in case. And even though it sat in the attic for years, I pulled it out the week that Javier first met you. I don’t think that there was ever a doubt in anyone’s mind that you weren’t the one for him. My sweet Lucia would have been so happy to know that you have given Javier everything he never thought that he deserved. Oh, how I wish with everything she could have been here today to see how happy you make him. But I hope that you know, she would have been so excited that you get to be a part of our family.” He grinned through his tears, stepping back to look at you with a soft smile on his face, gently reaching up to wipe away the wetness on your cheek before pulling you back in for another hug. “I hope you know that Javier is going to be a wreck when he sees you. Poor boy has been in shambles all day waiting to see you.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen the man this anxious. And that’s sayin’ somethin’.” Steve chimed in, laughing to himself. “You look great, sweetheart. Chucho’s right, Javi’s ‘bout to be a goddamn mess.” 

As if your heart couldn’t feel any fuller from all of the love and warmth overflowing into the room, you had almost forgotten about the one person that had brought you all together in the first place- Javi. 

You could feel the pace of your heart begin to race, your stomach swirling in anticipation as the reality of the situation slowly began to sink in. 

Your future husband was here, and there was nothing more in the world that you wanted than to see him. Not soon, not at the end of the aisle, not waiting for you at the altar, right this very second. 

“He’s here, right? Javi?” You asked, biting down on your lip to contain the stupid grin growing between your cheeks, swaying back and forth on your heels in childlike impatience. Before you could barely ask your question, all eyes in the room were on your, giving you a collective look that seemed to scream “Seriously? You can’t wait either?” without having to say a word. 

As you could hear the beginning rumblings of protest, David stepped in as the most unexpected voice of reason, holding his hands up to the crowd in your defense, trying to silence everyone’s potential disagreement for what you were about to suggest. 

“Listen… Y’all know as well as I do that we could hold back these two with iron restraints, and they’d still probably find a way to see each other before the ceremony. And to be quite honest, I am pretty convinced if we don’t let them, one of them is gonna fucking combust, and I am not willing to be held personally responsible for any damages done before you two idiots can even get married.” 

Giving you a silent nod of approval, David stepped back to pat your back with the loving force that only a brother could, as everyone else in the room seemed to very quickly agree with his sentiment, joining with head bobs of quiet agreement. 

“I’ll go let the big man know you’re comin’. Gotta find some way to redeem myself before I bust his balls in my speech later.” Steve snickered, giving you a quick wink before quickly disappearing out the door to find the man behind it, waiting half as patiently as you. 

To say that Javi was disappointed when the boys booted him to the outdoors while everyone else got to go in and see you was the understatement of the year. Even though he couldn’t have been sitting on the front porch of his childhood home for more than 10 minutes, it felt like he had been waiting for hours, counting down each second until the moment he finally got to lay his eyes on you. After about 2 minutes of sitting in his dad’s rocking chair, nervously swaying as his hands shifted between his fingers drumming on his legs and balling up in anxious fists, he pushed himself up to stand, walking off the steps of the porch to pace in the front yard under the warmth of the late June sun. 

He had been so preoccupied as he meandered the front of the home, picturing just how breathtaking you would look as you walked down the aisle to greet him- how gorgeous you would be in your dress, your hair, your stunning smile, everything about you that made him look at you and know that he was the luckiest man in the world. That you were his. That you were everything that made him feel like home. It wasn’t until after a few careless steps too far around the corner of the house, that Javi was catching himself from tumbling to the ground as he tripped over a larger than suspected rock underneath him, quietly cursing under his breath while he tried to steady himself, peering down at the ground to see what had almost caused his fall. And when he finally read the words etched into the round stone beneath him, he couldn’t help but laugh at the fact the thing resting below him was none other than the heading that read “Lucia’s Garden”. 

“Jesus Christ, Ma, you’re not even here and you’re gonna take me out before the wedding even happens.” Javi chuckled to himself, gently tapping his foot against the rock, staring at the worn and weathered letters of her name. “You know, the very first time Pops met her, he let her work on the garden. I couldn’t believe it, because he barely lets me within 10 feet of here without worrying I’m gonna ruin something. But uh, I think that he knew. I think before he even met her, he already knew that she was the one.” 

Letting out a soft sigh, Javi crouched down, squatting next to the stone, gently brushing his thumb across the grittiness, carefully tracing each letter back and forth, praying with every ounce of him that one way or another, she could hear what he had to say. 

“I really wish you could be here, Mom. I really miss you. I really wish she could have gotten to meet you. I know that you’d love her.” Javi paused, his eyes beginning to well with tears, letting out a long, shaky exhale to try and compose himself. “She’s so good to me. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve her. She’s made me a better man. A man that I’m proud of. A man I hope you’d be proud of, too.” He paused again, pinching the bridge of his nose before wiping his wet cheeks with the back of his hand. “I know that uh- I know before, um you were gone, that you really worried about me. I know you’d never say it, but um, I could tell. And I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Mom.” His voice was now barely above a whisper, years of guilt and anger bubbling in his chest for the person he’d been, the life his mother had lived to see him play out while halfway across the world, fighting for a cause he wasn’t even sure he believed in anymore. 

“But, I um- I just- fuck, I just want you to know that I’m okay. I’m more than okay, now. This is the happiest I’ve ever been, all because of her. We’re gonna build a house, we’re gonna have kids, we’re gonna be so happy, Mom. So fucking happy. Te amo mucho, Mama. Siempre lo hare (I love you so much, Mama. I always will).” 

So focused on the quiet conversation with the simple stone sitting beneath him, Javi hadn’t even heard Steve’s hurried footsteps creeping up behind him, making Javi practically jump out of his skin as Steve’s hand met his shoulder. 

“Hey, buddy. You ready to-” 

“Jesus, fuck Murph. You scared the fucking shit out of me.” Javi gasped, thoroughly startled as he shot to his feet, quickly trying to wipe the tears from his face as he faced his friend. 

“Sorry, man, I didn’t mean to, promise!” Steve laughed, holding his hands up in defense before letting his expression shift to concern at Javi’s face. “Hey, you okay, Jav?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m- No, I’m good, sorry. Just um- Just wish my mom could have been here for this, ya know? She would have really fucking loved her.” 

“Hey, it’s okay, man. My dad was gone before my wedding, too. Fuckin’ sucks.” Steve smiled sympathetically, “Truth be told Jav, that girl you’re gonna marry, I think it’s hard for anyone not to love her. Your mom would be really happy for ya.” 

“Thanks, Murph.” Javi huffed, a small smile spreading across his face at Steve’s genuine sympathy, a trait he didn’t see very often. 

“C’mere, buddy.” Without giving him a choice, Steve wrapped his arms around Javi, pulling him in for a hug with a few stiff pats on the back before pulling away with a nod, hands on his hips as he stared down his friend with a shit eating grin, knowing the news he was about to tell Javi would instantly turn his mood around. “Speakin’ of your future wife… You wanna see her?” 

“Wait, like, now? Like, actually?” Javi’s mood instantly shifted, his entire body lighting up at the prospect, looking at Steve with relief glistening in his dark brown eyes. 

“Yeah, actually. Thank God your wife is just as obsessed with you as you are with her. Jesus Christ, I think the both of ya would have fuckin’ exploded if we made you wait ‘till the ceremony.” Steve chuckled, grabbing Javi’s shoulder and giving it a playful shake. “Alright, you turn around so it’s a surprise when she gets out here, lemme go get her. And Jav?” Steve asked, turning his head back over his shoulder to look at his friend as he began to walk away back towards the house. 

“Yeah, Murph?” 

“You’re losin’ that bet. No way in fuckin’ hell you ain’t sobbin’ like a baby the second you lay eyes on her.” 

As Steve disappeared back into the house, Javi couldn’t help but quietly laugh to himself, because as much as he wanted to dish shit back to Steve, he knew his friend was right- He was about to be a fucking mess. 

“So? Are we good? Does he wanna see me?” You asked, anxiously waiting at the door, feet tapping on the floor hidden underneath your dress as you waited for Steve’s return. 

“No offense, Sweetheart, but that's just about the dumbest question I've ever heard. What do you think? Of course the bastard wants to see you. I’m just gonna warn ya though, that man is a hot mess, and I really think ya just may kill him the second he sees you.” The two of you laughed to yourselves, feeling your heart beat faster and faster in your chest with every passing second, using all of your self restraint to keep from bolting out the door past Steve to see Javi. “Alright, I won’t keep ya any longer, go get ‘em, killer.” 

Before you could get yourself out the door, you embraced Steve in a hug, catching him off guard for a moment before he hugged you back, smiles spread across both your faces. 

“Thanks, Steve.”

“Sweetheart, you ain’t got nothin’ to thank me for. If anything, hell, I should be thankin’ you. You two lovebirds are a match made in fuckin’ heaven. I was real worried about that old bastard for a long time. Glad to know I don’t have to worry about him anymore. Well, at least too much more. Now, enough about my sorry ass, go see your husband.” 

With a silent nod, you gave Steve one more quick hug before you were turning the knob to the front door, quietly stepping out to the front porch to see Javi’s back to you at the bottom of the stairs, already trying to fight the tears welling in your eyes without even seeing his face. As you closed the door behind you, Javi instantly perked up, turning his head back over his shoulder just enough to speak, but not enough to see that it was you who was walking to greet him. 

“She good to come out, Murph? I’m fucking dying out here.” Javi laughed, making you giggle at the fact that he had no idea it was you who was standing behind him. 

“Hate to break it to you, but unfortunately, I am not Steve. So sorry.” You snickered, practically feeling Javi’s eyes roll at your sarcastic comment, even though the both of you were thankful for a little humor to break the anxious anticipation that had been festering in your stomachs since this morning. 

“God, you’re such a dork.” He laughed, his back still turned to you as you took your final steps down the stairs with your dress in hand, trying to fluff it back out as you settled yourself behind him. 

“Hey, you’ve got me for the rest of your life, babe. Lucky you. I’m not gonna lie, don’t think I cleaned up half bad, ya know, if you wanna see.” You teased, giving Javi a playful poke on the back as you bit down on your bottom lip, so excited to see Javi’s reaction you truly thought your heart was going to explode out of your chest. 

“Baby, you have no fucking idea. C-can I, can I see you?” Javi stammered, his voice already beginning to tremble. 

“Well, I think I’m gonna implode if you don’t, so yeah.” You took one last long inhale in, holding your breath as Javi slowly began to turn to face you, feeling like everything was suddenly moving in slow motion when Javi’s eyes finally locked with yours. 

Javi couldn’t even get a word out before his hands were covering his mouth, his jaw dropping open in absolute awe to see you standing behind him. The tears he swore to himself he’d try to fight back were already streaming down his face, his eyes looking you up and down over and over again, trying to soak in every ounce of you, only crying harder as he noticed each and every new detail of you standing before him. 

“Osita… Oh my god. Oh my god.” Javi’s hand stayed glued over his mouth to try and keep his jaw from dropping any further than it already was, absolutely mesmerized by your beauty, barely able to get out any sort of coherent thought out of his brain. “Baby, you, oh my god, you look so beautiful. You look so fucking beautiful.”  

While you figured that Javi would cry and be excited to see you, nothing could have prepared you for the reaction that you were witnessing in real time, watching your future husband become a complete, blubbering mess at the sight of you, making it damn near impossible for you to hold it together yourself, considering the fact that you were also busy trying to take in the ridiculously handsome sight of Javi in his tuxedo- his broad body filling out every inch of the black fabric perfectly, hair and mustache impeccably groomed, and sweet, teary brown eyes sparkling in the sunlight, making you melt, tears rolling down your face as your heart bursted at the seams over and over again, wondering how in the world this wasn’t all some sort of a perfect dream. 

“You like it?” You managed to choke out through your happy sobs, your cheeks straining from the stupid grin that had spread across your face, the both of you radiating in the blissful glow of your excitement. 

“Like it? Osita, are you fucking kidding me? Do I like it? Holy shit, baby, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. You look... Osita, you look incredible.” Javi laughed through his tears, taking another step back to grab your hand, looking you up and down again before holding your arms up to twirl you in a circle, your dress flowing around you, making you giggle as you finally finished rotating to lock eyes with Javi again. “Hermosa, I knew you were gonna look amazing, but I- I never, I never could have imagined that you were gonna look like this.” 

“Coming from you? Jesus, Jav, I’m convinced you’re trying to kill me in that tux before we can even get married. You look so good. Javi?” You paused, grabbing his other hand so your fingers were intertwined, his thumb automatically tracing soft circles on your skin. 

“Yeah, baby?” Javi replied, biting down on his bottom lip as he gulped, trying to hold back the lump resting in his throat from his happy tears as he stared down at you. 

“Javi… We’re getting married. We’re getting fucking married.” 

“Fuck. We’re getting married. Holy shit.” As if the smile on Javi’s face couldn’t get any wider, his boyish grin gleamed between his cheeks, wrapping his arms around you to engulf you in a tight hug against his chest, the two of you laughing to yourself in disbelief that you had finally made it here- that only a few short moments, the two of you got to begin the rest of your forevers together. “Can I- Can I kiss you?” He asked in a soft whisper, pulling back to tilt his head towards yours, sliding one of his hands up to gently cup your cheek, shifting your gaze up towards him. 

“What kind of question is that, you dork?” You teased, bringing your mouth close enough to his to let your lips barely ghost over one anothers, butterflies swarming in a sea of excitement. 

“Because I’m afraid if I start kissing you, I’m not gonna be able to stop.” 

“Do your worst, Peña.” 

As if time began to move in slow motion, your mouths met with an electric and tender intensity, slowly becoming a mix of tangled tongues and teeth, your hand sneaking under the opening of Javi’s suit jacket to wrap around his waist as the grip around your face began to tighten, your bodies melting together as one in a nearly magical moment- Well, as magical as it could get before being interrupted by all your friends and family that had gathered on the front porch to share in the moment with you. 

“Hey! Lovebirds! Jesus Christ, save it for the ceremony!” Steve shouted, a chorus of laughter erupting behind him, startling you and Javi. 

“Good Lord, Steve, give it a rest. They missed each other!” Connie sighed, shaking her head at her husband’s loud interruption. 

“Yeah, that’s our sister, you pervert!” David chimed in, the familiarity of his taunting voice making you roll your eyes, putting your hands on your hips as you stared back at the crowd. 

“Will you can it, you dingus? It’s their wedding day for Christ’s sake!” Your dad groaned, slapping David in the back of the head. 

“Daddy, what’s a pervert?” Olivia asked, looking over at Charlie as Chucho held her against his hip, grimacing as he tried not to laugh at the exchange. 

“Seriously David, really? Grow up! They’re so adorable, let your sister have this.” Your mom scolded, promptly giving him another whack to the stomach, you and Javi now laughing to each other at the scene that was unfolding in front of you on the porch. 

“Well,” You giggled, giving Javi a playful nudge, “It seems like everyone else has been able to solve the ‘you not being able to stop kissing me’ problem.” 

“Jesus Christ…” Javi sighed to himself, running his hand over his face as he stared back into the crowd watching you and him, “Can we get a few more minutes to ourselves before the ceremony? Please? I haven’t seen her all day.” 

“C’mon, let’s give the two some privacy. Lindas (cuties), why don’t we go look to make sure all the flowers are ready. Maybe we can practice walking down the aisle again?” Cucho smiled at the two of you, giving Javi a subtle wink as the girls began to giggle with delight, racing off to the backyard in a fit of squeals of excitement. 

“We’ll do another check of everything, too, I wanna make sure everything’s in place before the ceremony. Do you mind helping, Connie? Boys, will you go check to make sure all the food and drinks are ready for cocktail hour” Your mom asked, picking up on Chucho’s hint to give the two of you some space, now trying to rope your dad, brothers and Steve into that equation as well. 

“Can I have a beer if I help?” 

“Jesus Christ, David.” 

Everyone's conversations began to trail as they headed their separate ways, leaving you and Javi standing in the front yard alone, once again,  looking at each other with mischievous grins- Yours from knowing damn well that Javi had something up his sleeve, and Javi’s from the something stored up there. 

“What’s that look for, Jav?” You smirked, crossing your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow at Javi as you waited for him to let you in on whatever plan he had brewing in his brain. 

“I think… I think that I really have to go to the bathroom.” Javi replied, boyish grin glowing between his cheeks as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his chest. 

“And you’re really making it seem like going to the bathroom is a two person job.” You snickered, rolling your eyes at Javi, knowing exactly what he was implying. “Baby, the ceremony is gonna start in an hour, everyone’s here and I don’t think there’s gonna be enough-” 

Before you could finish your thought, Javi was swallowing the rest of your sentence in a long, deep kiss, only pulling away to quietly rasp in your ear. 

“Is that a challenge, Osita? I promise I’ll be fast, baby, you just look so fucking beautiful, and I don’t think I’m gonna make it if I can’t have my wife all to myself, even if it’s just for a few minutes. ” 

“God, you’re such a drama queen.” You sighed with a snicker, heat creeping in your core knowing that you had just as little self control as Javi did, peeking your head to make sure that everyone had dispersed before they watched you and Javi sneak inside together. “We have to be quick, okay? I just don’t want-AH! Javi!” You squealed as Javi was scooping you off your feet mid sentence, very fittingly carrying you bridal style across the front yard and up the steps of the porch, nudging the door open with his hip, the two of you all giggles and smiles as he whisked you through the house, stopping at his childhood bedroom, promptly setting you on the ground to shut the door behind him. 

With a click of the lock and a rattle of the door handle to make sure they were safe from intruders, Javi’s hands were all over you in an instant, his mouth crashing into yours as he walked you back towards the ensuite attached to his bedroom, hoisting you up onto the kitchen sink as he shut the bathroom door behind him for an extra layer of protection. 

You could tell how hard Javi was trying to keep himself in check, considering the amount of time and effort that had gone into your hair and makeup, and the delicacy of your dress, but it was taking every ounce of self control he had to not rip it right off you. Softly letting his kisses trail down your body, Javi began to sink to his knees, smirking up at you with his awestruck gaze as he carefully began to lift up the layers of your dress, running his hands up and down your bare thighs. 

“Do you know how fucking beautiful you are, Osita? Fuck, I can’t believe you’re gonna be my wife. My beautiful, amazing, perfect wife.” The hot breath of his words danced against your skin as Javi peppered soft kisses up the inside of your thighs, his head almost disappearing underneath your dress as he creeped closer and closer to your core, already soaked with your arousal waiting for Javi’s touch. “You’re mine forever, Hermosa. Fuck, I’m so lucky. I love you so much.” 

“I-I love you too, Javi.” You whined, your breath already shaky as Javi’s fingers hooked around the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down your legs and letting them drop to the floor below you before letting his fingers glide through your folds, already glistening with your arousal. 

“Fuck, you’re already so wet, baby. Can’t believe this perfect pussy is all mine forever too. God, you’re so fucking perfect. Everything about you. Mmmm, I know we don’t have a lot of time, but I have to taste you, Hermosa. Can I, baby?” Javi mewled, making you gasp as he gently slid two fingers into your aching core, curling them to bump against the spongy spot inside you that already had you fisting at the edge of the bathroom counter to try and keep your composure, and better yet, your voice down. 

“Javi… Oh, shit. Fuck, Fu-ahhhhh.” You moaned, feeling the strong arch of Javi’s nose bumping against your clit, placing a soft kiss there before the flat of his tongue licked a long, broad stroke across your cunt, putting just the right amount of pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers worked in tandem to send the sweet tingling sensation to start building in your spine. 

While Javi would have loved to take every second of his sweet time to savor in watching you fall apart on his tongue, he knew just as well as you that he was working on a limited schedule, and wanted, no, needed to make sure he could get you off at least once before his luck ran out. 

Javi began to work his tongue against your clit, circling and flicking in fast and firm motions as his fingers curled deeper into your heat, his free hand hooking around your thigh and draping it over his shoulder, digging his fingertips into the meat of your flesh, like he was trying to ground himself more than you. 

You could already feel the coil in your stomach beginning to tighten from the way Javi was working so relentlessly to make you come undone, drinking every ounce of you up as, his lips now latching around your sensitive bundle of nerves, making your back arch and mind go blank while that all too familiar tingle began to creep through your core, cunt beginning to clench tighter and tighter around Javi’s fingers with every movement of his mouth against you. 

“That’s it, mi amor.” Javi cooed, peeking his head out from under you just enough so that his sweet, brown eyes were locked with yours, the hot words of his breath dancing against your pussy as his fingers continued to rock in and out of you. “I’ve got you, Osita. Forever. I’ve always got you. Promento (I promise).” 

Before you could respond, your jaw dropped open and face scrunched in pleasure as Javi dove back in, burying his face in your cunt as each press of his tongue became more firm and precise than the last, feeling your pussy begin to flutter as you clutched tighter around the edge of the counter, trying to keep from screaming out in pleasure and raise any suspicion. But as your legs began to tremble and heart race, teetering on the brink of collapse, it was taking every ounce of willpower you had left to make that happen 

“Fuck, Javi. Oh shit- Baby, I’m so close, I’m so close, I’m so cl-ooohhhhh.” You whimpered, feeling your orgasm crash through you, pleasure radiating in your veins as you fell apart, losing all inhibitions to keep yourself quiet as you threw your head back in all consuming bliss. With his fingers still buried in your cunt, gently working you through your high, Javi shot back up, his mouth engulfing yours in an electric kiss to try and capture your ragged moans that had been coating the walls of the bathroom, the tangy taste of you still lingering on his lips. 

Your heartbeat finally began to slow, your chest heaving in long, heavy breaths as you slumped into Javi, your head resting on his shoulder, shuttering at the loss of Javi’s fingers inside you. He carefully pulled them out, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean with a devilish smirk of satisfaction on his face. 

“Tastes so fucking sweet. My wife tastes so fucking sweet. Fuck, I don’t think I’ll ever get over that.” Javi chuckled with a boyish grin, gently cupping his hand under your chin as the other wrapped around your waist. 

“Get over what? Calling me your wife or eating me out?” You giggled, still trying to catch your breath as you came down from your high, biting down on your lip as your arms draped over Javi’s shoulders, your fingers tracing soft circles at the nape of his neck. 

“Both. Fuck, I love you so much.” 

“I love you so much too, you menace.” You smiled, tilting your head back to kiss Javi again, so blissfully lost in the moment, that the two of you both about jumped out of your skin when you heard a loud knock coming from the bedroom door. 

“Jav? You in here, buddy?” 

“Goddamnit, Murph…” 

The familiar twang of Steve’s voice made you freeze in fear, Javi quickly helping you down off the counter as he cursed to himself before the two of you were trying your best to fix yourselves up in the mirror to try and hide any signs of the horny whirlwind that had blown through the bathroom. 

“Javi?” Steve called out again, continuing to knock on the door. 

“Yeah, I’m here, just uh- Just give me a second, Murph.” Javi sighed, the two of you trying to keep from laughing at your current predicament, wondering how the hell Javi was going to talk you both out of this one. 

“What’s the plan, Peña?” You giggled, giving Javi a playful nudge as he carefully turned the knob to the bathroom door. 

“To tell Murph to fuck off if he tries to give me shit.” The two of you quietly snorted, feeling a little less guilty than you would have if it wasn’t your wedding day. “You stay here, okay? I’ll take care of him.” He smiled, pressing a soft kiss on your cheek as he opened the door. 

“God, I love you.” 

“I love you too, Osita.” 

Closing the bathroom door behind him, Javi took a few deep breaths as he ran his hands through his hair, turning the knob to open up his bedroom door to be greeted by an unamused Steve leaning in the door frame. 

“What’s up, Murph? We were just, uh-” Javi asked, trying his best to stay casual. 

“I fuckin’ knew it. Don’t ‘what’s up’ me, you horny bastard.” Steve groaned, rolling his eyes at his friend. “Y’all haven’t even made it to the ceremony yet! Jesus Fuckin’ Christ. Everyone’s been lookin’ for y’all. I had a fuckin’ feeling this is what you two were up two, and as your Best Man, I’ll cover for your ass now, but I sure as shit ain’t doin’ this all night for you two rabbits. Now c’mon, Casanova, go get your wife from in there and come outside. Remember that thing y’all gotta do where you actually go get married?” Steve teased, slapping Javi in the chest before shaking his head at his friend, his cheeks pink in embarrassment as his eyes darted to the floor. 

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be out in a second.” Javi grumbled sheepishly, quietly accepting defeat. 

“An actual second, ya hear? Not a horny Javier Peña second, or I swear to God.” Steve groaned, raising an eyebrow at Javi. 

“Promise.” 

“Alright then. Chop, chop, Mr. Peña. Let’s go get your ass married.” Steve laughed, grabbing Javi by the shoulder before giving him a little shake and disappearing back down the hallway. 

Hearing Steve’s voice and footsteps fade, you slowly peeked your head out of the bathroom door to see Javi standing by himself, head buried in his hands, pinching the bridge of his nose before turning back to see your face, equally embarrassed as his. 

“... He knew, didn’t he?” You grimaced, now fully opening the door and walking through to meet Javi on the other side. 

“Yup.” Javi sighed, adding an extra emphasis to the “p” with a pop. 

“Well… Either Steve has the world’s most unlucky timing, or he just needs to do a better job of minding his business.” The two of you snickered, crossing your arms over your chest as you stared up at Javi. “Or maybe someone needs to stop being such a bad influence.” You teased, poking Javi in the chest. 

“Me? I’m the bad influence? Okay.” Javi chuckled, teasing you right back. “Sorry I’m getting married to the hottest woman alive and I can’t help myself. My gorgeous wife is one not making it any easier on me.” 

“Still not technically your wife yet, you dork.” 

“Close enough.” 

Grabbing you by your waist, Javi pulled you flush against chest, tilting his head in for a long, tender kiss- the kind that made heat creep through your cheeks and butterflies churn in your stomach, the kind that made your heart beat a million miles a minute, the kind that seemed to make everything else in the world stand still, even if just for a moment. The kind of kiss that made you know without a single doubt that you had never been more in love than you were at this very moment. 

“I love you, Javi.” 

“I love you too, Osita.” 

“You wanna go get married?” 

“Mrs. Peña,” Javi grinned, grabbing your hand to interlock it with his, “There’s nothing I’ve ever wanted more in my fucking life.”

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @pedr0swh0r3 @chaotic-iguana

[ma1dita]

food for thought

'between certainties and doubts' installment part of the mean!remus agenda, aka a moment from a terrifyingly convoluted teenage situationship between remus lupin and an unidentified Hogwarts student (x fem!reader) wc: 1.6k a/n: you've been a permanent fixture in the lupin household this summer. 4am post as god intended. internal kinda angst with a bit of domesticity but remus ruins it as per usual. unresolved feelings. feel free to send requests and share treacherous situationship experiences we can write for them

—

You’ve come to realize that dinners at the Lupin household were nothing of the traditional sort.

Most of the time, it would be you and Remus fending for yourselves in the kitchen, scraping together something semi-edible with your guidance—the meal being something of a DIY project that may lack in presentation but makes up in taste (mostly). Or you two would stop by a drive-thru on the way back from whatever trouble you got into for the day, a soggy brown paper bag with a hand on each end and a flat soda half drunk by her only son. Remus elected to take the long way home each time—the two of you would muddy her doorstep wearing matching smiles, rumpled clothes, and smelling of the sun.

Remus was always a good help in the kitchen when he put effort in, but Merlin—that boy cannot cook for the life of him, much to his mother’s disappointment. By mid-July, she’d written you a recipe book during downtime at her insurance job in hopes of getting her son to eat more (and having you be a permanent fixture in their lives). So whether she came home to slightly charred chicken and potatoes or a deluxe meal from McDonald’s, Hope Lupin was thrilled to have you in her home and keeping her son company.

He’d never tell his mum this, but Remus loved the days he’d get to eat at your grandma’s house, though—there were always an assortment of sweet treats and hearty stews that he’d lug home in a Tupperware, buckled into the passenger seat that secretly bears your name. He’d think of you the whole drive home, a silly smile on his face, and his heart beating a bit faster than he would like. And his mum would eat it without question—heart and stomach warmed in gratitude, even if Remus would lie to her face every time and say it was his creation.

But tonight, things were more out of the ordinary—his father was home from working at the Ministry, at a reasonable hour at that. And Lyall Lupin found himself out of place at the new arrangement of his own dinner table. Remus occupies his usual seat at the head of the small wooden table, across from his mother, spooning the bolognese onto your bowl first, before his own, as Lyall observes the scene. He’s sitting across from you, taking in the expanse of your face and watching his son’s hand fall underneath the table with such nonchalance, scooting your chair closer to his with no words. You squeeze his forearm in thanks before standing up to grab the pitcher of juice and pouring everyone a cup, a tiny smile on your face.

“Thank you, love. You’re Winona’s girl, aren’t ya? My—a splitting image of your father! Bet she was mad at that,” his father chuckles, eyes falling to the place setting on the table. They don’t take these mats out unless there’s important company. When he looks at his wife, she winks, shrugging her shoulders as if it’s nothing of the sort.

“Oh, terribly so, Mr. Lupin. Didn’t get much luck with my other siblings either,” you grin. Remus raises his eyebrows—there’s more of you in the world, and more he hadn’t asked you about. 

Life outside the bubble you’ve created this summer, slowly coming to an end. His dad clears his throat, and Remus sips at his juice while his other hand rests on your thigh, drawing shapes into your skin. Without even trying, you fit right into this odd dynamic, down to the space you’ve carved out for yourself at the dinner table.

“Lyall, hun. I knew you when you were a wee thing, coming to visit the office with your dad and crawling up under the desks!”

You gasp, and without thinking, you squeeze Remus’ hand even as it’s out of sight, “Lyall, Lyall, CROCODILE! You used to charm your shoes to chomp at my fingers when I’d be pestering you too much!” Watching you two giggling now over a memory he doesn’t share, Remus looks at you with both fondness and…discomfort? He’d never known his dad to be so playful, and knew much less of this side of him as a little boy. Work had always kept him away from home, especially after the incident. 

“RJ, son—now you know how to keep this one on her toes!” he chuckles, sending his house slippers to chase after your ankles with charmed teeth, slobber flying into the air as you squeal. Remus wraps his arms around your legs, resting them onto his lap as you giggle. While you watch the magic eat away at the bottom of the tablecloth in mild amusement, he looks at his father with a warning glance over the top of your head.

Lyall shrugs, raising an eyebrow at your proximity. It seems that even if he spends the rest of his life advocating for his son, there’s still a lot to learn about him.

—

“Does she know?” his dad mutters later as he washes the dishes. His son dries them—it’s their routine as both Lupin men prove to be useless at cooking, so Hope appoints them to clean while she chats with you over some tea in front of the telly.

“No. Of course not, I’m not stupid.”

The chipped ceramic makes its way over from under the faucet, exchanging hands as Remus rubs at a spot his dad missed with the terry cloth towel. Lyall soaps the pitcher, scrubbing at the sticky residue the juice has left behind as he murmur, “Might be alright, considering her family. Good people to get involved with. You and her make a good pair, son.” The fork that Remus was drying clatters against the bottom of the sink with a rattle.

“Tad, this isn’t that!” “Isn’t what, RJ?” the older man chuckles. In the silence that follows, they listen to you and Hope cackling over a silly commercial that’s come on the screen. Lyall’s the only one that realizes that both him and his son are smiling at the sound, “Think you ought to clear that up with her then.”

Remus’ smile drops as he registers it.

“Why would you say that?” he stammers, and it sounds like an accusation. The truth is that he already knows—it’s the topic he’s been trying to avoid with you all summer. 

Putting a label on this makes it real.

But who is he kidding. 

Even without one, he knows it is what it is. 

Even the end of summer can’t stop reality from crashing in, much less dampen the feeling he gets when you meet him in the doorway and he slings his jacket over your shoulders.

There is no undoing the lines that have been blurred, and no erasing the weight of what your time together has developed into, heavy, like his hand in yours as he walks you home an hour later.

Still lost in thought, he swings your arms between you as you make your way down the hill together.

“You’ve got that look on your face,” you hum, thumb rubbing against the scars that run across his knuckles.

“S’just my face, lovely,” he nuzzles against your temple, placing a kiss so quick you could imagine it as a brush of the evening wind.

“No, no… I look at your face too much to dumb it down to that.”

“Like what you see?” he teases, and you tug him closer with a jerk of the hand.

“I do,” you giggle, bringing your intertwined fingers up to your lips, “Now that I’ve fed your ego, tell me what you’re thinking of.”

Wind swirls against the leaves of the trees tonight, making a symphony only the two of you will be able to memorize.

You know what’s coming. Term starts next week, and the two of you are heading into Diagon Alley together on Thursday before you head back home. This feels like the talk. You let him compose his thoughts, and finally, he speaks when you both reach your grandma’s driveway.

“My parents really like you. They might like you as much as I do,” he says breathily, wrapping his arms around your hips, “Whatever shall we do with that?”

A smirk pulls at your lips, and he resists the urge to kiss it.

“Godric forbid someone like me more than you do, Remus Lupin.”

He shakes his head, looking up at the sky for patience, before pressing his nose against yours—his eyelashes flutter rapidly, and you curse whoever made it so that boys get pretty eyelashes, because you can’t dare look away from his blown-out pupils.

You like this game, wondering who will kiss whom first. This time, as he looks at you like he could love you outside of the boundaries of this dreary town in Wales, you give in first, pulling him in by the collar of his faded t-shirt and smiling against his lips. Remus licks up your affection, making it known how he feels through the exchange of short breaths and softness beyond recognition. Even now, he’s still not used to it—the taste of your chapstick and of a certainty he only feels when his lips are on yours, that this could work.

His hands travel up along your spine as you moan against him, catching a breath and falling against his mouth once more like the ebb and flow of ocean tides. It ends with a smile, and you keep your eyes closed for a moment longer to savor it.

And then he speaks.

“I just wish I could keep you to myself. Wish we could stay here forever instead.”

You open your eyes and Remus still looks breathless, less sure now than he was when he was making out with you moments ago.

“Well lucky for you, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, almost contemplative, and maybe even a bit worried as he teeters on his heels, cradling your face in his hands, “Lucky me.”

—

i don't do taglists anymore! follow @ma1dita-mail & turn on post notifs 🤍

[loverlunaire]

date headcanons

eita semi, hajime iwaizumi, keiji akaashi and kiyoomi sakusa

eita semi

⭑ dates with semi are just vibing !!!

⭑ ideal date would probably be just to peruse around a record shop discus your fave albums and songs

⭑ coffee break after shopping and you’d take cute pictures with your sweet treats and your silly trinkets

⭑ i think peoples posts with their snacks and their sonny angels or calico critters or smiskis are so cute

⭑ he’d repost it on his story if you posted your date with your trinkets on insta !!!

⭑ song on story is from the album you bought too !!

⭑ n then you’d go home n listen to whatever album you bought at the record shop and just chat while holding hands and being silly <3

hajime iwaizumi

⭑ proud filo iwa believer !!!!!!!

⭑ he’d take you out to get filipino food !!! loves eating his childhood favorites with you <3

⭑ he’d let you eat the last piece of lumpia 🙏

⭑ i see him wanting to take a walk around a local park either in a comfortable silence as you just enjoy the others company or just mindlessly chatting about each others days

⭑ he makes sure you get home safe !! asks you to text him when you get home and then responds with how much fun he’s had today with you <3

keiji akaashi

⭑ bookstore frequenter !!!!!!

⭑ if you’re not a reader he gets it!! he’ll prolly ask if you find certain books interesting and get them and read them and let you know if he liked it

⭑ definitely reads out his favorite books to you if you’d allow it !!!!

⭑ per bookstore date tradition you always get coffee and a snack to fuel you for your walk around the bookstore !!!

⭑ very relaxing, feels like it’s just the two of you there, which it probably is but… what more could a man ask for !!? books, coffee and his lovely partner !!

kiyoomi sakusa

⭑ locking pinkies > hand holding

⭑ or at least it’s like that to sakusa !!

⭑ this would be like at least once a month type of date !!

⭑ you both wake up early enough for you to go the farmers market and pick yo stuff to make lunch or dinner together!!!

⭑ very domestic and cute <3

⭑ sakusa likes the farmers market because he likes knowing where his food comes from and supporting local businesses !!!

⭑ it’s okay if you can’t cook, he’ll help even if it turns into him doing most of the work, he’s making a meal with you and fits for the both of you !!! it’s made with love <3

⭑ short but i think it’s cute !!! i was struck with inspiration at practice and was madly typing at my phone during my water break !!

⭑ sorry for the inactivity!!! i will find a healthy balance soon i just needed to get into the groove of school and figure out when i have downtime to wire <3

⭑ might do a pt.2 of this just lmk who you want in it !!!

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the paint

lilac, chapter nine

a/n: hi! I'm back after taking a short break to obsessively work on this year's kinktober, but now i'm finally back to writing this beloved story. it feels so good to get back into it. it's only been a few weeks, one month max, but i've missed my lumberjack so much.

summary: “oh please, there’s only one guest staying here right now, and even so, people know this room is under construction, who in their right mind would just willy-nilly waltz in here?” 

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, smut, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, renovating an inn, painting, kissing, semi-public sex, oral, fingering, dirty talk

word count: 1922

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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A faint ache began to bloom in the muscles of your face from how hard you were smiling. You simply couldn’t help it. Every time you thought you’d gotten it under control, your eyes would just flutter back up to the man beside you as he stretched, reaching the paint roller in his hand far enough up to kiss the taped-off crown moulding that framed the ceiling, and each time he’d do so, his flannel would ride up just enough for you to catch a sliver of his skin before it dropped back down, giving you just enough of an unintentional tease to remind you of what he looked like beneath it. 

“You’re laughing again,” Frank pointed out the soft giggle that bubbled out of you as your glance washed over him.

“I’m not laughing,” you gushed, straightening back up to your full height as you finally stopped rolling over the one low spot you had absentmindedly been painting over and over again for a few minutes or so.

Eyes briefly flickering your way, his feet carried him closer to you, “well, what’s so funny then that you can’t stop laughing?” 

“Nothing’s funny,” you tried to keep your eyes on the wall as you felt his broadness brush against your shoulder. 

“Oh, no?” 

“Nope,” you playfully bumped your hip lightly against his, childishly angling your roller dangerously close to where his was glazing the wall a soft blue tone, an action that quickly developed into a juvenile game of chasing him across the wall. 

To your amazement, Frank played along, keeping it going till he suddenly changed tactics and caught you by surprise, rerouting his roller down to collide with your own, however, it never got the chance to strike as you, in the midst of a giggle fit, retracted your brush from the wall, fearing that he would roll right over you and make your arm all sticky with paint. Though in the end, not noticing exactly where you were hastily withdrawing your paint roller to, it ended up being him that got smeared and not you. 

“Oh my god,” your eyes grew wide at the sight of the blue that coated over the dark brown of his plaid sleeve, “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“Oh yeah?” he glared back at you, grin crinkling up his eyes, “you didn’t?”

“I swear, it was an accident.”

“Ah, sure it was, just like this,” you felt his roller glide down the length of your top, making it look like you’d hugged a smurf.

Letting out a shrieking gasp, it only took approximately two seconds before you pouched in an attempt to get him back. Though the former soldier’s swift hands caught your roller before you could manage to seize your revenge, settling both yours and his own down on the covered floors before playfully wrapping his arms around you, halting your attempts at retrieving it. 

Laughter mingling and mixing into one, your feet then left the ground as Frank lifted you up. As your gaze now rose to be at the same level, the silly game swiftly vanished from your memory as you stared back into his brown eyes, both of your glee fading away as if it was never there to begin with. 

You didn’t know who initiated the kiss, but that part couldn’t be less important as your arms curled around his neck and one of your legs blissfully bent, softly flicking your foot upwards as you felt his tongue sweep across your own. 

Lowering you back down to the floor, his touch dragged up your form till his fingers tangled in your hair, tugging at the very roots in such a way that made you purr against his lips. Feet shuffling, the far wall you hadn’t begun on yet soon collided with your spine, though you weren’t pressed against it long before Frank surrendered to your enthusiastic efforts in spinning him around and switching places.

As your lips then detached, you slowly began to drop down to your knees, a wide grin warmed Frank’s features as your fingers hooked into his belt, “what do you think you’re doing, huh?” his head gently fell back to collide with the wall as he stared down at you in adoration. 

“What do you think I’m doing?” you blinked up at him as you bit down on your giggling lips, palm nuzzling against his blossoming hard-on as you undid his belt, his excitement created an impressive imprint against the fabric of his dark jeans. 

“I think we’re in an inn full of people and someone could walk in here at any moment,” he narrowed his eyes almost in a daring fashion as you tugged his zipper down. 

“Oh please, there’s only one guest staying here right now, and even so, people know this room is under construction, who in their right mind would just willy-nilly waltz in here?” 

Not tearing his eyes off of you for even a second as you freed his heavy length, he muttered softly, “you’re trouble…” utterly hypnotised as you wrapped your fingers around his girth. 

“Nuh-uh,” you smiled up at him, “I’m adorable,” before you swiped your tongue softly over his tip, visibly sending a shiver down his spine.

“Yes, you fucking are…” he uttered enchantingly, mouth falling agape as you began to plant sweet kisses all the way down towards his base, your dazzling eyes never leaving his, “holy shit…”

As your slobber began to gloss him up, your palm exploited it as you slowly twisted your enclosed fist up and down his length, keeping your movements up as your lips soon wrapped around his bulbous head, flat tongue fluttering like a gentle sea against his throbbing underside. 

Looking like he had died and gone to heaven, you felt as Frank’s fingers reach down to ghost over your features, his broad thumb caressing the outline of your face as your head began to bob, drool slowly dribbling down from your efforts and adding to the mess already painting the front of your shirt.

“Atta girl,” his fingers tenderly combed through your hair, “fuck,” lips stretched, his tip hit a place in the back of your throat that caused your eyes to squint, tears nearly appearing before you settled back to slobbering around his head, “you're so pretty like this.”

One hand steadily pumping the latter half of him, your other wandered over your own thigh. Like a magnet, your fingers pressed down on your clit through your pants, the astonishing relief causing a muffled moan to vibrate against Frank’s cock, a sensation he clearly enjoyed by the sounds of his own eager groans. 

“Oh, just like that,” he grunted, eyes lightly fluttering as you gurgled around his cock, “don’t stop,” fingers flexing and balling up into a fist in your hair as he twitched in your mouth, soon stifling a mesmerising moan as he came down your throat, “fuck…” 

Letting go of him with a soft pop, you swallowed as you gazed up at his hazy visage, feeling yourself drip and drench your panties from the borderline meditative motion of giving him head. 

Hands still fast in your hair, Frank kneeled down to your level and pressed his lips to yours, the teasing touch you had going on over your pants quickly grew into something more desperate. 

“Could you–…” you breathed heavily, “god, I feel like it’s been forever since you touched me…”

A warm chuckle rumbled out of him as he looked back into your blown pupils, “we fucked this morning,” he noted, rising back up and scooping you with him. 

“Exactly,” you bit down on your smile, “it’s been like three hours.”

Slipping beneath your waistband, your grip fastened in the front of his open flannel as his fingers grazed through your wetness. Eyelids fluttering at the foggy sensation, Frank manoeuvred your frames, spinning you around and pressing your back against the wall. 

“Well, I’m sorry that you had to wait that long,” he entertained your quip, rubbing your puffy clit just right, “whatever can I do to make it up to you?” his free hand securely snaked around your middle. 

Sharing his breath, your nose nudged against his, “seems to me like you already have a pretty good idea of what could suffice.”

“Oh yeah?” he chuckled like a crackling fire, “could this maybe make you feel a bit better?” your hold on his shirt tightened as he gently slid one finger inside your dripping heat.

“Mhm,” you nodded hazily, one of your knees briefly lifting to graze against his leg. 

As you readjusted your arms, draping them around his neck, “or how about this?” his lavish pace then intensified as he eased his ring finger in beside his middle one, curving them a bit as the root of his palm nuzzled firmly against your throbbing clit. 

“O-oh, fuck!” your head fell back and collided with the wall, your fluttering gaze glued to his. 

Leaning in to muffle your breathy whimpers with his kiss, the sensual soppy sound his efforts produced echoed throughout the half-painted room, those only growing in their volume as he rocked his digits within you rougher.

Moans melting against his tongue as it danced against your own, it didn’t take long before your pussy clenched down around him, clambering and inadvertently pulling his fingers in that much deeper as he slowed back down, rendering it a demanding task for him to get his hand back with the way you blissfully clung to it. 

Head resting a moment against his broad shoulder as you caught your breath, your puffs gradually morphed into the same blissful giggle you hadn’t been able to shake just moments before.

“You know what?” you lifted your head. 

“What?” he chuckled through his smile. 

Tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, you rose up to your tip toes and uttered, “I don’t know if I can wait another three hours,” before you captured your lips in another heated kiss, your hands swiftly travelling south on a mission for more. 

But just as Frank hoisted you up, your legs tangling around his hips, a booming voice from somewhere else in the inn cut through your haze. 

“I did it!” you heard your father shout, his jovial stride caused the staircase he hastily ascended to creak just as loud as his boisterous words boomed, “I finally did it!” 

“Shit,” you hissed, nearly pushing Frank away as you scrambled to hide any evidence of what the two of you had just done. 

“I’m a genius! I think I’ve finally cracked the code to croissants!” the moustachioed man burst through the doors just as you rushed to pick your paint roller back up as if it had been glued to your grip for hours. 

“Dad!” you skurried to roll some more blue on the wall, hoping he wouldn’t notice just how flustered you were, “hey!”

“I think I was handling the dough too much while laminating,” he rambled, flour tinting his apron a lighter shade of green, “also why I’ve never been great at pies, I fiddle with it too much, but I think I finally got the hang of it! Just pulled some out of the oven and they look amazing,” darting his dazzled gaze from you to Frank, he offered, “you kids want one?” 

“Uh,” you glanced back at the man, still standing close to where you’d blown him just moments before, “sure,” you stiffly heard yourself agree, “that sounds lovely, dad.” 

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[bitchslapblastoids]

Do you have any dnp fic recs that feel like home? Any length or topic, just those kind of fics that reading gives you the feeling of being home

wahhhh this is so sweet. asks like this always make me wish i used bookmarks on ao3 more. i'm forgetful about them and it always bums me out that there's no way to see every story you've left kudos for. (ok after typing that sentence, i went and installed a script that does show you the fics you've left kudos on as you scroll through your reading history, but it's definitely not perfect, so i can't rly recommend). i also don't re-read fic all that much; the few major re-reads that i return to semi-frequently and that truly feel like coming home bc they're so familiar are from diff fandoms. and truthfully, i don't actually read all that much phanfic. i'm so particular and have to be in just the right headspace for reading fic and have to have just the right stretch of time laid out in front of me and blah blah blah. which is to say, i feel like my recs can get repetitive because i know there are so many works i haven't explored yet, and i always have back-catalogues or new works that i want to catch up on.

but! here's what i put together: New horizons by @cityofphanchester. i'm sure i've recced this before, but I feel this fic in my bones and I think about it so, so often. it feels so cozy to me and i feel really at home in the author's writing style. i'll also add envelop the lonely places, which is literally about dan coming home from tour. it takes my breath away. and and the days after that, which is about phil visiting dan on tour. also lives in my bones. both feel like i, the reader, am coming home to their relationship.

@alittledizzy has countless fics that are so domestic and lovely, but i'll rec two bedrooms, in which dan goes to florida with the lesters. it's a fic i think of often and that makes me feel warm even though dan's fully experiencing a crisis in it lol.

@bassband's not in nottingham is also about dan finding a home in phil and ooooooh boy does it fucking get to me.

i'll also add an islet fic, because their work is all so lovely: make the yuletide gay (haven't read that one in a while but it still gives me a fuzzy feeling when i see it, so i'm gonna trust my gut)

here's a lovely one by dandrogynous that is so sweet and home-y: just need a light

@calvinahobbes has so many sweet fics, but here's one that has an especially soft space in my heart: bright

and honestly as silly as this sounds, i re-read bits and pieces of like a bowl of oranges sometimes. when i'm able to quiet my inner self-critic, their love story makes me feel very warm and at home in my own verse.

hope this scratches the itch you're looking for!

[leighsartworks216]

Fourth Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Sighhhhhhhhhh I have a problem...

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Third Love and Deepspace Masterlist

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I Used To See The Future Masterlist

AO3

Request Rules

Tag List Form

Prompt Drabbles

Take everything you want from me - Sylus x gn!Reader, fluff

-

Shivering - Sylus x gn!Reader, fluff + sick-fic

-

No one needs to know - Zayne x gn!Reader, hurt/comfort

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The rain is singing - Zayne x fem!Reader, fluff

-

Let me warm you up - Sylus x gn!Reader, hurt/comfort + fluff

-

Don't wake the baby - girl dad!Sylus, silly

-

Sylus

Fistfight - AO3 - Sylus x gn!Reader / Sylus & gn!Reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, light angst, blood, injury, injured animal, guns, abusive parent, slow burn, potentially confusing pov, shapeshifting, literal sleeping together

-

Laundromat - AO3 - Sylus x fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, silly, laundry, sleep, cuddling, developing relationship

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Zayne

Eyedrops - AO3 - Zayne x gn!Reader

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, silly, swearing, established relationship, allergies, teasing, kissing

-

Just Couldn't Wait - AO3 - Zayne x fem!Reader

SMUT Warnings: smut, pwp, established relationship, kissing, making out, car sex, vaginal fingering, hand jobs, semi-public sex, clothed sex, undressing, swearing, rain, vaginal sex

-

[gremlingottoosilly]

Tsundere reader becoming a lot more loving after the leaving incident, still a bit bratty but she always apologizes with kisses and love and some special treats ;)

Konig asks if you want snuggles since you have been sitting in one position for an hour already, and he gives him pointed stares whenever he shifts his position. Konig asks if you want some snacks since he just recently came from a grocery store and you weren't that much of an eater during dinner. Konig asks... You tell him that you don't want to talk to him. He nods, agreeing. It's a very normal position to have regarding your relationships, and he still has you chained up to the couch since you can be such a fussy girlfriend who tries to attack him. He sighs, turning away - not catching the way your expression changed immediately, getting almost scared. Almost terrified and confused, you immediately scooted over to his lap and press your face into his chest. You whimper like a silly darling you are. He gently pats your back, allowing you to settle on his lap. Doesn't say anything because he knows you're like a cat - once he tries to get all soft and adorable, you will scratch his face and run to the furthest lengths the chain allows you to. He just plays with the meat of your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh in his hands - doing his best to settle you in. To calm you down. His domesticated girlfriend is still semi-convinced that he is going to just step up and leave her, and he doesn't really want that. His little voyage for the mission without warning did give him a very loving and gentle girlfriend - but it also kinda broke your ability to trust him whenever he would say he was just going for a quick mission. He seriously considered retirement at this point - but you're like a cat, bouncing back to being all feral and aggressive as soon as he settles in a comforting routine. He scoots you closer to press little kisses all over your face, and he can hear you cringing at the sensation. You kiss him back almost at the same time - you press little pecks all over his face. Embarrassed as you are, you are a snuggle bug. His perfect, pretty girlfriend. God, what wouldn't he give for you to finally settle in something regular between hating him and wanting him.

[chaswritesandotherthings]

Hi. I read your Mr Puzzles x Reader on Ao3. I think it's really cool. Say, what are your headcanons for Mr Puzzles x Reader anyway? Just curiosity speaking.

Oouugghhh!!

Small semi spoilers for whats to come in my fic but i don’t care to share!!

No big title or anything! Just sharing silly little headcanons

His love language is acts of service! He likes to give the one he genuinely cares for items of appreciation, as he never had friends or anyone more in his life before now.

He dreams about you and him having a super nice domestic life, where he can pay for everything because hes famous. He seriously adores you and wants to provide more than he is currently capable of

He’ll tell you he regrets what he did to the crew, but he really dosent (he’ll say it just to see you smile a little)

His favorite part of you is your face, mainly your smile!

His dreams display on his screen if hes in a deep deep sleep

He’ll make scripts for things that involve you both kissing at the end, its all an excuse to have your lips on his screen since he’s absolutely horrible at asking for attention

For someone so menacing he’s honestly a big sweetie with you

Can and will let the world burn for you!

Since ratings arent his main thing now, and its you instead. He’s willing to do just about anything to make sure you dont go away like his 5 stars did previously

Sometimes calls you by “Angel” or “My Savior” because without you he probably wouldve been an abandoned tv in the woods

Normally uses “dear”, “love”, “honey” if hes not in a particularly sappy mood (on serious occasions he’ll actually use your name, and its never because hes mad at you.)

Likes to bring you to his tv dimension inside his head, the zero gravity type deal makes it more easy to grip onto you and just float freely.

Sings to help you sleep

He’ll say your main clothes are trashy, but in reality he just wants you to look all dolled up (like a said, man is a giver)

-Bonus!-

Reader’s outfit!

(i used Gacha but ignore that-)

Anyway if there are anymore questions abt the fic, please ask, i love when people ask abt my works!

[w1nds0ul]

I’ve seen some nsfw and sfw alphabets of sigma and the writers always somehow mischaracterize him, like it’s similar to how people baby him because he’s “three years old” and pathetic (they call him shy boi, smol bean, etc.)

and since your a sigma kin, I think you’ll do a better job at making the alphabets for sigma without mischaracterizing him too much, sooo..

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO A ALPHABET OF SIGMA!! ( And if it doesn’t bother you, could you make one of Nikolai… ) you don’t have to do this request if it’s too complex 💔

Of course anon! No problem.

( Someone wanted me to do a fyodor alphabet and i turned it down out of demotivation and confusion, so sorry about that! )

“ 𝘔𝘦? 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵… 𝘮𝘦? ”

𝘚𝘐𝘎𝘔𝘈 𝘟 𝘎𝘕！ 𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘋𝘌𝘙, 𝘚𝘍𝘞 𝘈𝘭𝘱𝘩𝘢𝘣𝘦𝘵．

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ; 𝙨𝙪𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚, 𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛, slight mentions of stalking. ( 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙮 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 so expect some errors. )



A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Sigma, being the man that he is, wants everyone to enjoy themselves in his casino, that includes you. So if you want affection you’ll absolutely have it, though he isn’t extremely good at it due to him being inexperienced with love. You want a kiss? Sure but make sure you two are at a semi public area such as his office or a vacant corner of the casino. Want a hug? Go ahead, he receives hugs a lot. He enjoys PDA to an extent, even initiating it by pecking your cheek or forehead whenever your around (in private preferably). He also likes when you two hold hands, and finds it convenient whenever the casino is crowded with lots of people on a busy day.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Due to his work and affiliations, it’ll be hard to befriend him. Additionally, he doesn’t trust people super easily unless necessary so you’ll have to somehow earn it. He’s nice, but prefers to keep people at a certain level than him (also since Fyodor and Nikolai taught him to not trust others so quickly, he kept that idea in the back of his head.) On the other hand, if you’re part of the DoA then he wouldn’t mind being in your presence, perhaps even enjoying it. If you do happen to be friends with him, you two often play card games like poker or uno with silly bets, such as whoever loses has to pay lunch for next time. He won’t tell you any DoA plans obviously, but will sometimes vent about how stressful his co-workers, the casino or others can really be.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Sigma loves cuddles. Once he found out what cuddles are, he couldn’t get enough of it. It makes him feel the warmth and sensation of having a home and being with someone who loves him like he does for them. Although his ability involves physical contact, he himself is touch-starved. Obviously with the casino being his ‘home sweet home’, you can’t really hug something as big as the casino, but now since you are his ‘home’ then it’s more convenient. On days where Sigma doesn’t work or he happens to be lazy, he clings on to you, whether you spoon him or he spoons you. ( When he spoons you, there is a possessive yet protective aura that you can sense, similar to that of Nikolai. )

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Sigma would love to settle down, but that will also mean possibly leaving the casino behind, therefore it’s a half yes and half no. Believe or not, he is surprisingly decent at cooking and especially good at cleaning (in his Bungo Stray Dogs Wan!, he was described to love cleaning the casino), even enjoying it as a little side hobby, often times he can be seen cleaning the windows of his office. If you want him to be a house-husband, he’d be hesitant before being fine with it, but if you were to be the stay at home, he’d love that a little more. That’ll mean that he will have someone to come home to, and that’s his dream to do that. If his lover happens to not be ready to settle down then that would also be alright, he’s rather patient with the people he loves the most.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Once you break up with Sigma, he will feel extremely upset about it, and constantly questions if he did anything wrong on his part. He’ll think of you often before slowly forgetting about you while you go on forgetting about him too. (that’s a lie, he won’t fully forget you because you’ll always be in the back of his mind. Which may cause some slight stalking just to see what you’re up to now.) If he’s the one who breaks up— which is highly unlikely depending on how much he loves you already—then he will sit down with you and explain that you both maybe aren’t meant to be, it’ll hurt him just as much as it will for you. Of course, he’ll ask you whether you’ll be okay on your own. Asking if you need somewhere to stay, gladly letting you rent out a suite in the sky casino, though expect some awkward encounters or just full on avoiding each other throughout your stay. If you knew of the DoA’s plans somehow, ( and as much as he doesn’t want to have to do this… ) sigma will have to… k!ll you, whether it’s through Fyodor’s request, Nikolai’s or even through his own instincts. It’ll burn him for a very long time, but eventually, Fyodor will tell him to suck it up, and who is he to say no to a man like him. ( Fyodor probably threatened him too for sulking and mourning “like a little bitch”. )

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Sigma will take a bit long to pop the question. It doesn’t mean that he doesn’t want to marry you or something, he absolutely craves that feeling of both of you sharing vows. He wants to make sure that you really are the one for him, and you aren’t using him for your pleasure or his money. He’ll seek the rest of the DoA’s, and even Dazai’s advice before coming to a decision. The way he’ll propose is when you two go out somewhere, somewhere where it’s quiet, romantic, and not many people are around, and then Sigma finally goes on one knee with a gorgeous and expensive wedding ring. He would be absolutely enthusiastic if you say yes, giving you a tight hug, and a sigh of relief that you accepted his proposal. Once you marry Sigma, there won’t likely be a divorce unless it’s absolutely necessary, such as affairs, etc. He is very loyal and isn’t afraid of commitment, hoping you’d feel the same way.

The wedding will be small of course, due to him being a terrorist, it isn’t safe for the wedding to be big because of its risks, but he will indeed put a LOT of effort to make sure that day is perfect for you two. Nikolai will be helping you pick out your wedding outfit, and Nathaniel will be the one making you do your vows. The only people that will be in attendance is Nikolai, Fyodor, and three of Sigma’s most trusted subordinates ( that most likely will be murdered afterwards anyways. ). And once he sees you walk down the aisle, with Ivan, he thinks yours absolutely breathtaking and even is ready to faint at your beauty. He himself looks stunning as well, this was also your first time where you saw Sigma in a ponytail with gems in his hair.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Sigma is gentle in a equal amount, emotionally and physically. Though he sometimes has to show tough love and that gentleness can falter. He has a “average amount of gentleness” (he says that whenever you ask him ). Sigma can be very angry and tough when he wants/needs to be, and just like the other DoA members, that side can be a little scary. It’s very rare for him to be that way, and you’ll have to make him extremely pissed off to see it. Though the anger and irritation we all know and love is something you’d see mostly, often when he’s dealing with people he doesn’t like. Physically though, the rumor of gamblers, card players, and casino players having skilled hands seems to be true when your with him. Whenever you cry he whispers how pretty/handsome you are in your ear, caressing your cheek and wiping tears away with his thumb. With Sigma being the owner of the casino, and his ability to successfully calm customers, it wouldn’t be a surprise that his words are sweet and addicting.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Sigma Likes hugs. He has received lots of hugs from people in the casino, platonically or romantically. But they sometimes make him feel a little uncomfortable and when you do hug him, he just stands there awkwardly not knowing what to do next. Hugging him more often will get sigma to be used to it, and he’ll start to wrap his arms around you. Isn’t opposed to surprise hugs ( hugging from behind ), but they can scare the shit out of him. He likes when you bury your face into his back, neck or hair during a hug, they even make him feel protected and safe. While he’s working at his desk, you’re allowed with sit on his lap during those times, just don’t get used to it since his employees come in and out of his office. After meetings, when you hug him, Sigma feels nervous or uncomfortable because of Nikolai and Fyodor watching you wrap your arms around him. He’ll most likely mumble to you that you need to let go now and to refrain from giving hugs after meetings or when in their vicinity. Don’t take this personally, he loves you, he really does, but it can prevent the constant teasing Nikolai gives him later on.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He says it whenever the time is right, like when your sad, during Sex, little affirmation messages around the house or through text. Once Sigma learned this phrase, he wouldn’t stop using it the first week of learning. Using it so much to the point where you told him he needed to tone it down the frequency of saying it (to which he did). Sigma isn’t doing it to be annoying, he wants to make sure you know that you are loved, that you are important to him. Sigma is very good at detecting discomfort, so you don’t even have to tell him to stop saying it (If you so happen to not like those words). He wants to you to be okay and comfortable around him, you are one of his top priorities now.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Sigma can get jealous easily, but only when it comes to your safety and comfort. He doesn’t show it, but you’ll know once he starts to look uncomfortable with some person flirting with you across the room. He gets more jealous and uncomfortable when Nikolai or Fyodor talk and flirt with you, especially Nikolai considering his odd nature. He wants you only for himself (not in a yandere way) and it just makes him so peeved and upset to see you laugh or be happier with someone that isn’t him, it makes him feel like he isn’t doing enough. Though there is a part of Sigma that tells him that you won’t leave him, even if it falters from time to time. If someone approaches you with flirtatious intent, he stands next to you, striking a conversation with you and that person in order to cockblock. It’s successful as always thanks to him being good with words, and the person tends to get bored and leaves. On days where he’s extra agitated, once sigma and the said person who wants to make advances on you, it’s a different man, nearly a different man. His words are more serious and straightforward, enough to get the person to leave you alone. He always asks if your okay afterwards, and apologizes about the person, even though it wasn’t his fault. He really can’t help it, you’re too precious to him and it would be a shame if he lost you like that, it really would.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Sigma’s kisses depend on his mood, if he was stressed they are rough but slow (yeah I know weird combination…), needy but sweet, and if he’s feeling nice that day, they are so delicate and gentle, addicting like honey. He prefers to keep his professional and personal conditions separate, so kisses in public are partially not aloud, aside from hand, knuckles or quick peck on the cheek kisses. Though in a private vicinity, kisses are absolutely everything to him, it’s something new to him so he’d definitely give a bunch all over your face just to be playful. At first, kisses with Sigma can be awkward and confusing, but that’s only because he’s inexperienced considering that you are his first everything. With patience, and gentle teachings, he’ll become a great kisser, so good in fact that it’s hard to even tell if he was really inexperienced or not. During times where he’s stressed, his kisses get more softer and he’ll shyly and hesitantly ask you for some kisses. Once you oblige, he’ll forget what the word stress even is.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He’s met a few kids in the casino on rare occasions, always leading them back to their guardian. He’s dreamed of starting a family and tries to know everything he could about raising a child, just in case. Compared to Nikolai and Fyodor, he’s mostly the type who loves to play with them, playing tag, and hide and seek with them with his child. He loves to read them bedtime stories and sing them lullabies he learned from Nikolai, an employee or elsewhere. Only downside is that Sigma’s hair can be off putting to kids and sometimes scares them, it truly breaks his heart when he sees that they are scared of him all because of his abnormal color scheme.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Sigma are basic, just exactly how he see himself. Because of his work at the sky casino, he’s an early bird, and he wakes up so early in fact that you are still asleep by time he leaves. If you happened to wake up early like him, he always asks if you slept okay, if you need anything before he leaves, additionally you also get to hear his voice be a little raspy and more soft in the morning. Sigma usually orders breakfast for you and him (eating his then leaving yours there), and once he’s done, he goes off to his daily objectives while you go off to yours. In case you wake up wondering where the hell he went, Sigma regularly sends you a text to let you know that he’s just off working, wishing you a nice day and to come into his office occasionally to check in with him at some point of the afternoon, not in the evening due to the casino being more busy at that time.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights with Sigma are just as casual as the mornings are, but there’s a little bit of a twist in it. Often times than you think, he comes home more later than how a normal person should return home, meaning hours later. It all depends, sometimes 12 AM sharp, sometimes 1 or 2 AM exact. Going along with the time he wakes up, Sigma knows it’s unhealthy to be up so late and wake up so early but who is he to not even run the casino at all, someone has to get it done anyways. When he does come to the suite at a normal time, he always goes to you first before anything else, asking about your day and then he goes on ranting about his, and what happened in the casino. Afterwards he goes to shower or bathe (if you want to join him, go right ahead, even though he’ll be hesitant), and put his hair in some type of comfortable hairstyle, typically a ponytail, braids, or a bun. Finally you two sit down and chat about this and that, eating cookies with whatever hot beverage of your choosing. And after that long evening, you two cuddle and sleep, as I said, typical.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

As said in Letter ‘B’ and ‘F’ , it wouldn’t be super easy to get him to trust you but when he does, it’ll get more easier for him to talk to you as time goes. You have to be at a certain relationship/friendship level with Sigma to get him to talk about his past, his ability, and his involvement with the DoA. Even if he did, he doesn’t ‘remember’ his past well enough to even tell you anything. Slowly, Sigma will slip in a few things about himself in your conversation unknowingly to see how you’d take it, and if you take it well enough, then he’ll start to mention it more noticeably. To him it’s all about if you care about him enough to remember his likes, dislikes, and problems in life, and if you do remember, then congratulations! You really are the one for him.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He would never yell at you or lay a finger on you, it just isn’t in his morals and it’s just wrong in general. He doesn’t get ‘angry’ at all either, with it being more like an irritation and disappointing, discomforting type of angry, which is a side you’ll see often when he’s around Dazai or Nikolai. Sigma’s patience is at an average level, and is willing to wait for you patiently if you aren’t ready for something (marriage, sex, children, etc.). He will never want to force you in anything and if you ever needed to talk to him, he will always listen. Only thing is that he expects you to just as patient as him, maybe even a little more because he can be a bit to handle regarding his anxiety. (Sigma will won’t verbally tell you that though)

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Other than being a overthinking, cutesy mess, remembering things is Sigma’s speciality. His ability allows him to gain information that he wants about a person through physical contact with them, but he must give a piece of information that they want to know about him in return (which he could very easily fabricate in his head, if he wanted to). So every hug, kiss, cuddle, or any other physical interaction, he gains a piece of information of you in exchange of a little something about him. And by forcing himself to remember what he wants to remember, it’s not that hard for Sigma to know you more than anyone else in your life. He will remember your birthday, your family member’s birthdays, any pets you have, your financial situation, any mental or physical illnesses, etc. He will especially try to remember your interests, since he can use that to strike conversations that will last a long time with you, always ending up successful and satisfied in the end.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Ironic and corny as it sounds, his favorite moment was when you two first met. It fascinates him on how someone like you just happened to find someone like himself, and the fact he never paid you any mind at first makes it even more crazier to think about to him. You were just a person at the casino, and had the audacity to interact with him, it makes him in love with you all over again. He also favorites the moment he realized that you were his reason to live. Since he has no family, friends, or memory of where he came from, he’s never had a reason to exist other than the casino until now. You were his reason, you are why he should keep on existing. It warms him in the inside so much every time he thinks about it.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

If he’s really in love with you, he sees you as precious as the Sky casino itself, and to him that’s a lot. Sigma can be rather protective and worries that you might get hurt or taken by someone all because of his association with Fyodor, Nikolai, and the DoA in general. He’s a terrorist after all, so he’ll expect at least one or more people to come after him. If someone is going to get to you, they have to get through him first. It won’t be visible at first, but soon enough you’ll have a few of his employees keeping a watchful eye on you when you go out the suite. If you go grocery shopping or to some other place, he’ll occasionally go with you, or send a bodyguard to go as a replacement for him. As for Sigma, he doesn’t need protection and he has his own weapons as a backup, in fact he is his own weapon.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

To say the very least, he does an average amount of effort into those things, or perhaps above average. Sigma wants to try and pamper you like the importance you are, and what’s a better way than to do so on a date, with a gift, etc. He may not always have time to do things for you though, so as long as you’re fine with the lack of time, it’s good. It’ll be worth it when he does have the time, because this man can put a lot of effort into things, such as a expensive reserved dinner date on a balcony, with rose petals on the floor when you two get home, and sweet words to you left and right. It’s all so sweet and beautiful on how much work he’s put in things, just to show how much he loves you. Regarding gifts, Sigma gets you things depending on your interest, but the thing he mostly goes for is jewelry, such as necklaces that he swear looks oh so gorgeous on you, or a ring for you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

If you couldn’t tell from the show/manga, Sigma has a bad habit of overthinking and overworking to a point where the pressure is at its peak. He has severe anxiety and personal breakdowns in private. Sometimes you even wake up in the middle of the night to see Sigma sitting at the desk in your shared suite, mumbling to himself, tapping his fingers on the desk, clicking a pen over and over again, or hyperventilating. Although it can be annoying at some point with how often it happens, It really isn’t his fault, he can’t help the thoughts that constantly flood his head. It’s stressful to take care of a casino and make everyone enjoy themselves, especially forcing yourself to remember the names, conditions, etc, of the guests. It does get worrying that maybe Sigma might overthink/overwork himself so much to the point where it puts him in the hospital or worse. He’ll need space or sometimes comfort whenever it happens, and if you can provide that, then he’ll start to feel better in no time. Even so, he won’t care nor stop you from helping him calm down if absolutely necessary, it’s what he needs afterall.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Sigma has earned a LOT of compliments and flirtatious comments because of his looks, status, personality, etc. There even are some gamblers who ask for him to come home with them, in which he always declines. He isn’t insecure about much other than how his hair looks, he was “born” with it — yes, but he has received harsh insults on how it appears before. He often times gets some odd looks on the color, since it’s a rather unusual look compared to more normal hair colors. Once sigma does explain to whoever asked that his hair color is indeed natural, they don’t always believe him. Maybe stroking a bit of his ego by saying how pretty is hair is, or playing with it, might make him feel more better about how it appears. Sigma also feels insecure about being “too ordinary”. No matter how many times you comfort him, it will always make him feel insecure.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Pretty much he would. Once again probably his first lover and his reason to live, so it’ll only make sense for him to feel like a large portion is his has been taken away. Your smile when you see him, or the twinkle in your eye when he had a new hairstyle for that week, would be something he would miss everyday. if your death happened to be caused by someone, he will not hesitate to kill or have them killed immediately.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

As much as he doesn’t want to admit it to you because it’s embarrassing for him, Sigma likes it when you doll him up just for fun, like putting decorations in his hair, putting it in ponytails, braiding it, painting his nail, doing his makeup, etc. He’s rather a good substitute for a woman and after you’re done with him, you’d actually think that he was a woman and not a male this whole time. All that he asks is that you remove the makeup and hair, but keep the nails if you do choose (his nails are canonically long). He would rather work for two days straight than to hear the teasing of Nikolai and Fyodor when they see him in such a state.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

As long as you aren’t like Fyodor, Nikolai, or someone who is ridiculous, immoral, disrespectful, and lazy, then he would love to have you as a lover. Additionally, Sigma wouldn’t want a person who uses him, it makes him uncomfortable and reminds him of the rest of the DoA. He’s fine with you being lazy on a lazy day, but being lazy everyday is just unacceptable to him. He’s a hard-worker and laziness or half-assness just doesn’t sit with him well. Nikolai and Fyodor’s behavior just is unnerving so Sigma definitely wouldn’t want that in a partner either. If your friends with one of them or even both of them, he wouldn’t mind at all, just hoping that you wouldn’t turn into a mess like them.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

There’s this hat he wears to sleep that looks straight out of a cartoon (I’m not making this up, the hat is canonical…) and it’s to only keep his hair from going all over the place. He also mumbles a little in his sleep, but that’s probably because he sorts out his memories from his ability. You might hear names of people you’ve seen in the casino coming out of his mouth. On some nights though, he twitches instead of mumbling. He can have some pretty scary nightmares and be in some uncomfortable situations in his dreams, causing him to jolt or shake while he sleeps. If it bothers you, he will have no problem going to the couch for the night.

[ranchwamen]

I WAS GONNA MESSAGE YOU ON YOUR MAIN BUT IT WOULD MAKE MORE SENSE HERE

I know Luca did this but I love the idea of fish being treated domestic cattle? Like idk something about having a group of fish just. Grazing. Idk

Our grunts were doing this earlier and I thought it was silly like that’s a herd not a school

ANYWAYS in your mermaid verses does like. Aquaculture/agriculture combination exist?

Yes yes yes it does!!! Tending to domestic schools of fish is one of the biggest food sources of merfolk, though I've only really brought it up once in a singular comic panel:

Aand admittedly I haven't figured out all the logistics of it ^^' There are domestic fish subspecies for sure, pikes and several species of sharks for example, but the livestock of the sea are a different matter. I like the idea of fully domestic fish subspecies that live with humans all the time but I also like the domestic reindeer approach where — despite the prefix "domestic" — the reindeer spend a large portion of the year in the wild and only come to humans' care for the winter. I guess it'd be tricky to keep fish in a single place without having any escape (3-dimensional space and all), but also, I feel like domestic fish would be accustomed to merfolk and would wish to school near them anyway due to the protection they offer.

Actually, the domestication of fish seems like a very natural course to take place. Merfolk are big to most fish, medium shark-sized, and do not pose an immediate threat, so they're good to school near. Merfolk change their environment in all sorts of ways, they expose prey to eating when obtaining materials, they build things, and then those things grow tasty algae and polyps and mussels to eat. Merfolk eat a lot themselves and leave cooked food scraps to enjoy. Merfolk don't like predators near them and therefore chase them away, giving the fish safety, and once they start building little barns for the fish, well, then they'll be extra safe!! Perhaps then, merfolk settlements (located near coasts) would keep these fully domestic schools, and more nomadic groups of merfolk (who travel in the uppermost levels of the pelagic zone) would have semi-domestic schools of fish to keep instead.

Huh, yeah, fish livestock must come in very handy in taking care of biofouling matters, snails and slugs and other grazers can't do it all by themselves. Oooh not to mention the possibilities for aquaponics!!!! Domestic fish graze on algae and tasty delicious things to them, their waste fertilises the big plants (and worms) delicious to humans, humans eat both as they grow, profit! Although just how nutrient-heavy the water must be in these aquaculture farms due to the large amount of fish livestock, ehhh.... balancing how close to settlements you can keep the livestock in the name of food delivering efficiency vs how far you need to have them be to keep the water clean, what a tricky matter. Excellent for worldbuilding though :D I bet it's a really pressing issue regarding the eutrophication and species loss of the environment, merfolk settlements being located so far away from their agricultural areas for comfort and cleanliness reasons, inadvertedly causing their spheres of influence to be much bigger, forcing natural ecosystems to grow smaller, more fragmented and more nutrient-heavy, and causing disruption in the ecosystems' natural processes. Nevermind how much food exporting must've caused aquaculture farms to grow massive, especially in the modern age where the demands of billions of people must be met!! See, just because they're in the water doesn't mean they're more rudimentary or more in-tune with nature, lol.

To make a long story short, yeah !!!! Merfolk keep fish, but also other groups of animals like reptiles, crustaceans, mollusks and annelids to eat... and also to have as buddies and do jobs! Not all fish are livestock, very few fish species are "fitting" enough to be domesticated, and even then wild and domestic populations of the same species exist, but some species are livestock and serve as a major cornerstone of the merfolk diet!