#also I totally did not go back to make Wars eyes bigger to fit to the other two portraits
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fallenleafofmaple · 2 years ago
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Fanart for @wutheringmights ao3 fic Call Them Brothers! Here is a Spirit Drawing and its alternative. I had a lot of fun with this one. Side note: These were originally going to be one big group drawing with Lincoln included (I had the sketch done and everything :p) but I decided making three portraits would be better. For the Alt, I switched between covering his whole face or just doing a scar but once I added the hand I thought the scar looked cooler. Long story short, these pieces have gone through so much. Anyways, we have one more left!!! 2/3
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spiritshaydra · 2 years ago
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Okay yeah gonna say screw it and just post the fullbody I finished back in November because her ref is taking too long and I wanna share my cringe ass nae nae hellspawn 😭
OKAY SO
THIS IS REQUIEM (Or just “Em”)
And she’s a Megasound fanspawn,, bear with me, I’ve never made an oc like this before so I’ve been extremely nervous to show the creature off. 💀(especially since this is the fancharacter type I avoided making at all costs when in high school despite it leading to some very interesting character development.) Eventually I just said screw it, I’m proud of the design and character work I’ve been developing since August, I’m going to show her off.
I don’t really take her all too seriously as I originally made her to shitpost because I thought it’d be funny. And like my main TFP OC Quantum, she eventually grew past that and became something more. (While still keeping her silly at the same time)
I have. A LOT. Of development for this single celled organism that prolly won’t fit in one post, so on here I’m just going to do a sort of character bio thing (based on the format of Quantum’s Toyhouse bio) to introduce her. (Maybe I’ll do a Q&A sort of thing if anyone’s actually interested in that?)
HERE WE GO:
Name: Requiem (Em for short)
Name Origin: This is what happens when you put a poetry/mythology nerd and a music nerd in a room together and have them name something. You get a name with origins in both music and literature (A music or literary composition that acts as a form of remembrance for the souls of the dead.) annnnnnd a reference to a mythological figure (the name of Megatronus/The Fallen’s weapon, the Requiem Blaster. Gee sure wonder who’s idea that was.) Unfortunately, the goblin who was given that name has a grand total of two brain cells and has as much class as a hagfish.
Gender: female
Pronouns: she/her
Species: Cybertronian
Height:  12ft approximate (for design depicted above)/ 30ft (adult; not pictured)
Alt-Mode: (Base) Cybertronian heavy bomber/ (Earth) Tupolev Tu-160 Blackjack
Home Planet: Earth
Faction: Decepticon
Pre-War Occupation: Did not exist before the war.
Personality: Requiem is loud, stubborn, rude, mischievous, a little naive, and all around a feral mess. Absolutely no filter. Textbook example of “curiosity killed the cat”. The champion of the age-old schoolyard discussion of “my dad can beat up your dad.” For… obvious reasons.
She’s easily bored and easily distracted, and thinks it’s entertaining to mess with other bots in the form of stupid pranks and barrages of questions.
Has a bit of a potty mouth and gets creative with her insults.
A fembo (but a lil mean) was told to use her head in a fight, but ended up head butting the opponent and subsequently knocking them out as a result.
As a result of (EXTREME) helicopter parenting combined with adrenaline junkie behavior, Requiem has the tendency to be an escape artist and to purposely seek out potentially dangerous situations such as but not limited to: Diving into a hurricane (to see what would happen), storm chasing (the bigger the better! Also to see what would happen), playing Icarus and getting struck by lightning on the Flight Deck of the warship (STRIKE ME DOWN ZEUS), sneaking out of the Nemesis and simultaneously smuggling all sorts of creepy crawlies and other organic critters back on board (has to be shaken out just to be sure.), being a little too interested in volcanic activity, sneaking weapons out of the armory and attempting to join the fight, and sneaking away from the ship to “explore”. Em wrangling is a very tiring objective.
If Rumble and Frenzy were alive, they would’ve definitely gotten along. (And would’ve been an unstoppable force of chaos oh gOD.)
She likes the pastel magical horse show about friendship, LOVES stickers, and her absolute favorite color is the most obnoxious eye bleeding shade of pink imaginable. (She was denied changing her PRIMARY paint job color to it for obvious reasons. Honey, that is a LOOK and not exactly a good one.)  She likes to pretend to be a gladiator. She likes to give people really stupid and bad nicknames for the hell of it. A favorite being combining the first few letters of a name or descriptor with “uncle”. She thinks it’s hilarious. A little too interested in arson and explosives. Her music taste can be described as “2012 Warrior cats amv” and “noise”. Really likes slasher films for some reason.
She exhibits several behaviors that could only be described as those of a cryptid. (…or cat.) These range from being able to sneak up on others and move without making a sound, staring unblinkingly and expressionlessly at things and other bots, climbing up and perching on top of things, noise mimicry, recharging facedown in a deathlike manner, and the worst thing being how she used to skitter across the walls and ceilings of the Nemesis as a sparkling. There were a handful of instances where she got into the vents of the ship and it was a nightmare trying to coax her back out. Oh yeah. There was a biting problem.
Requiem either hates or actively dislikes things ranging from water, being told to stay still, the thunder part of thunderstorms, the medbay, and being quarantined.
Her social ability leaves much to be desired, as she was raised in total isolation from her own age group, so she lacks most social skills as a result. Because of this, she often comes across as “weird” and as a bully, even if unintentional. Due to her isolated upbringing, she is a very lonely individual despite not exactly acting the part. Being routinely quarantined does not help that feeling of loneliness in the slightest. Em wants nothing more than a friend, or at least an acquaintance to spend time with. It’s just that, given who her parents are, that makes things impossible.
She has a very unhealthy view on death, as it isn’t exactly rare onboard the Nemesis. Surprisingly, she was actively kept away and shielded from most of the fighting as a child- however, in wartime there’s only so much one could be protected from even as the child of the highest ranking individuals of the faction.
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dracowars · 4 years ago
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frosty | draco malfoy
pairing: draco x reader
word count: 1,5k
summary: where y/n and draco compete in building a snowman
a/n: merry christmas everyone ♡ another small christmassy imagine for you <3 hope you had a wonderful day~
warnings: none
universe: harry potter
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"Please pay attention to your little sister, Scorpius!", you call after your son who is wildly running through the high layer of snow, his little sister following him with difficulty because she keeps getting stuck in the deep snow.
Scorpius turns around at your words, runs to his sister and pulls her with him, helping her out of the snow before they both keep going.
The cold surrounding you, you zip up your winter jacket completely, wrap your arm around Draco's and put your hands back into your pockets, a chill running down your back.
"Are you cold, honey?", he asks you with concern while you follow your children. You shake your head in denial, even though it is more than obvious that you are cold. After all, you have been out here for several hours.
When your children saw the beautiful snow outside your house this morning, you could hardly stop them as they immediately ran outside and played in the snow. Somehow Draco managed to get them back inside to at least have some breakfast and later on you discovered why they had agreed to it in the first place.
Draco promised them that you would spend the whole day outside and even go sledding if they just eat up their breakfast. Which of course they did.
Right now you would much rather be in your small, cozy and above all warm house, instead of out here in the frosty cold which is slowly starting to freeze off your nose. Although you have to admit that it is a beautiful and heartwarming sight to see your two little ones frolicking around in the snow with so much joy after already having so much fun sliding down the hill in the park for hours.
Draco softly smiles to himself next to you and finally takes off his scarf to put it around you. At first you defend yourself, not wanting to accept it, but unfortunately you have no chance once he has set his mind. So you reluctantly accept it and thank him, the fabric around your neck making you feel much warmer already.
"Mommy! Mommy! Look at my beautiful snow angel", Scorpius calls out to you, excitedly jumping up and down.
"You will catch a cold now that all your clothes are totally wet, Scorpius", you make him aware when you reach him, Scorpius pouting immediately when you ignore his artwork.
"Let them have their fun, honey", Draco tells you reproachfully before turning to look at your son. "I think you did a great job, buddy."
"I wanna do one too!", your daughter Arcia giggles and lets herself fall back into the snow before you get the chance to stop and catch her.
Her happy laughter echoes in your ears as you watch her with an absent smile on your lips. Your smile grows even bigger when Scorpius and Arcia persuade their father to join them so that now all three of them are lying in the snow together.
Draco reaches his hand out to you in an attempt to get you to join them, which you refuse immediately and turn away.
"No, thanks. It is enough for me to just stand here and watch-"
Rudely, you are interrupted in the middle of your sentence when a snowball hits your back. Hardly believing what just happend, you need a moment to process before you turn around, stunned, and look at Draco, a mischievous grin on his face. Reading your face and knowing what is going to happen, your children quickly get up and take cover.
"Watch out, Daddy!", Arcia laughs from behind a tree as you bend down to form a snowball of your own. But before you can even get a good amount of snow onto your palm, you are thrown into the cold snow at once, letting out a loud gasp.
Draco traps you between his body and the ground, hands on either side of your face to give you no chance to escape.
"I am so sorry, love. Unfortunately, you are all wet now, too", he winks at you, but you are quick to lather his face with snow as revenge and push him off of you.
"Oh no! Daddy is losing, Arcia. We need to help him!", you hear Scorpius suggest from afar as he is already on his way to help Draco.
In the meantime you have managed to get up again and thus are now a few meters away from Draco and Scorpius, who both have a snowball in their hand. In fear, you take a step back.
"Guys, hey. We can talk about it", you try to appease them, but they do not give in and just look at you with a knowing look. "No no no no! Do not give me that look! Do you hear me? Draco, stop!"
Not listening to your words they creep closer and closer to you every second but right before they reach you, you can hear a loud cry. A cry that is unmistakably the one of your daughter.
You three stop moving instantly, Draco throws a startled look at you as you both turn to search for Arcia, who is luckily still standing in the same spot where she and Scorpius took cover before.
During your dispute earlier you did not even notice that three other children, probably the same age as Scorpius, have joined her and seem to have started to build a snowman together. However, said snowman collapsed a few seconds ago which also explains Arcia's loud crying.
When you reach her, the other children are already trying to calm her down, but she only does so when Draco picks her up on his arm and gently strokes her back, soothing her.
Looking at the amount of snow that is now in front of you and the children, the snowman seems to have been quite big already.
"I want to build a snowman, Mommy!", Scorpius tugs at your coat, drawing your attention to him while his little sister's crying slowly stops.
"Are you fine again, sweetie? Let us build a new snowman, hm? How about that?", you hear Draco whispering to Arcia, managing to fully stop her crying as she happily agrees.
Without thinking further, you kneel in the snow and help the children to create balls of snow, but when you hear Draco whisper again behind you and then another giggle, you turn around bewilderedly only to discover that Draco and Arcia have started to build their very own snowman. In the same moment, Scorpius also notices it.
"That is not fair! Daddy is much taller and stronger", Scorpius whines, pressing his lower lip forward.
"But we are only two and you are five!", Arcia defends herself and puts her little hands on her hips, pouting as well.
Your gaze wanders to Draco and you notice this spark in his eyes right away, which means that his fighting spirit is more than active. You accept his silent declaration of war with raised eyebrows and turn back to the children, giving them instructions on how to quickly build a snowman.
"Come on, Scorpius. They are no competition for us."
About half an hour later you are all proudly standing in front of your masterpiece: an almost perfect snowman who unfortunately does not have a nose. But that is exactly what makes him so special.
Admiring your creation, you suddenly flinch when you feel an arm wrap around your neck from behind.
"Already finished?"
Offended, you hit him with your elbow and turn around expectantly, your faces only inches away from each other.
"Perfection takes its time, Mr. Malfoy."
"Well, then I am even more curious on how it turned out, Mrs. Malfoy", he grins at you, but your urge to win has now also set which is why you just roll your eyes at his statement.
"I want to show you our snowman, Mommy!", Arcia speaks up out of nowhere and pulls you behind her, proudly pointing at her snowman while the others follow you. "I did the eyes and buttons!"
Despite the fact that you really want to win this competion by now, you have to hold back a laugh at the sight. He may not be the ugliest snowman, but still worse than yours.
"He turned out great!", Scorpius announces and the children admire the snowman together.
"Ours is better", you whisper to Draco before letting out a quiet chuckle and leading the way to your snowman.
"WOOOOOW!", Arcia yells loudly as she spots your snowman and runs next to it. "It is so much nicer than ours!"
A laugh finally escapes your throat at her words and your husband's shocked expression makes your laughing fit, as well as the children's one, even worse.
"B-But Arcia! You can't just admit it like that!", Draco stutters out, obviously frustrated with his defeat.
"But it is the truth. You always tell me that lying is not good", she smiles innocently, making her father huff in disappointment, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Oh please."
Giggling, you softly kiss your pouting husband's cold cheek and ruffle through his hair. Certainly, this defeat will leave a mark on him for several days so why not start to make it up to him again right now.
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mcbride · 3 years ago
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TWD S11 Predictions - Carol/Daryl focused
disclaimer: i don't know anything. i have no sources. just my predictions, thoughts and wishful thinking based on filming tracking, intuition, some theories, images from the teaser/promo trailers and more wishful thinking!
solely focused on Carol and Daryl's storylines, cause apparently that's all my heart cares about anymore! as a wise person once said (Espy, my positive fairy! if you're reading this, ilysm), our baes need to be dealing with their own issues and demons, separately, while getting some closure with other people, so they can finally move forward together.
so i don't expect many actual caryl scenes in part 1 of s11, but i fully expect them to keep each other in mind, and even make some decisions based on a future they wanna have together even before they resolve the awkward tension between them atm.
imo the perfect caryl arc in 11a would include a lot of emotional encounters, drama, disappearances, fake deaths, torture, tragedy, dog, closure and make up and make out... after the jump....
it appears that Carol and Daryl will be involved in different missions at the start of the season - he will head out with Maggie's group to search for food when they are caught up in a storm and have to hide out in the subway tunnels; while i presume she stays back to defend and help clean up ASZ or goes on her own mission with Kelly and Magna.
Carol, Kelly and Magna end up stumbling upon Connie's journal, a symbol of hope for all of them. they might even decide to search the area for any more signs of Connie. i really want Carol herself to find Connie and bring her back to Kelly. and not cause Carol is a hero who saved Connie, nooooooo cause Connie can save her own self. she is strong, not a damsel in distress. she went through hell but she made it back. i think we will see Connie and what she has been through, however, i don't believe she will reunite with anyone from team family before the MSF (11x08) or even MSP (11x09). no idea who she and Virgil are running from in the trailer - it could either be a whisperer, a stray reaper or just some crazy random motherf*cker they run into.
while Maggie's group are in the tunnels, dog runs off and Daryl goes to search for him, never making it back to the group for some reason. after the storm is over, Maggie and the group search for Daryl but not having been able to find him (?) they just assume he is gone, possibly dead? i don't know why Maggie would give up so easily searching for family, but it seems like her current MO to just leave people behind.
along the way, Carol and Magna will find common ground and actually become besties cause she desperately needs some female friends. please and thank you. they can bond over the hope to find Connie alive and well, or the fact, both of them are currently in a very awkward position with their boos while having no idea where the heck they are.
Daryl probably got separated from the group while escaping a small herd in the tunnels (cue to Daryl's face covered in blood in the woods) and when he finally finds dog, he comes face to face with a masked reaper formerly known to him as Leah. he is shocked to learn she's part of the group that targeted Maggie. Leah is probably bitter Daryl chose his family instead of her a few years ago cause she has no idea he came back for her... so she and her friends take (willingly or not!) Daryl prisoner... possibly torture him and play mind games to gather information on team family.
in the sdcc trailer, there are some very heartbreaking scenes with Carol (and Aaron?), i cannot wait for it. i know it's gonna make me cry so hard and i've been needing Carol/Aaron friendship for years. at the same time, i expect Carol to also have some badass fighting scenes with her daughter-in-law and new bestie, Lydia, and tia Rosita! YES girl power!! people need Carol and she's totally there for them.
Aaron seems to be in a bad place emotionally (possibly something happened to Gracie, or just the fact they lost a lot of people in the whisperers war!) and Carol will be there to urge him not to make the same mistakes she did. hopefully, these 2 can join forces and come up with a masterplan to defeat the reapers.
Daryl being Daryl who always wants to save people even from themselves, tries to convince Leah to change sides, join team family, or convince her own family to leave his family alone. he's unsuccessful and when Daryl tries to escape, setting the whole place on fire and killing a few men on his way out of the reapers compound, Leah threatens to harm dog. cause why not? she obvi loves nothing or no one! they take Daryl back to another cell, and dog manages to escape.
meanwhile, Maggie's group returns to ASZ, where they tell Carol they believe Daryl is lost or dead. please give me all the angst that comes with Carol thinking she may have lost Daryl forever! she has been pretty committed to the group and rebuilding their home, but i believe her first instinct will be to run, to leave... TO FIND DARYL!!! cause no way in hell would Carol just accept he's gone unless she sees it with her own eyes.
WELL in true 'if you can't beat them, then join them' fashion, after a few brainwashing sessions with Leah, Daryl tells her all about the note (FIND ME) he left for her at the cabin, how he knows he made the wrong decision then, declares his loyalty to her and joins the reapers...
dog arrives at ASZ just as Carol is about to leave to search for Daryl. good boy always comes back home to mama and together they will find and save dada. (bear with me! from now on i'll be totally running wild with my wishful thinking... it will pretty much read like some fanfic plot!)
Daryl keeps trying to fit in with the reapers group, but he's only taking a page from Carol's undercover book - fake it till you make it + destroy them from the inside. what he doesn't know is that Leah and her new/old bf (Pope!?) have been planning an attack on ASZ behind his back. they simply let him know, this is his chance to prove himself to the reapers. he has to go along with the plan (or DIE!), but he hopes to be Alexandrians' inside man, helping them protect their family at all costs (ironically, exactly what Negan did when he joined the whisperers and they attacked Hilltop... just not the same motivation! i guess Carol wasn't so wrong about Negan after all!)
at night, Daryl puts on his reaper costume and they head to ASZ. reapers learned the location of the place by tracking dog. the plan was much bigger and more explosive than Daryl expected, the reapers destroy a big part of ASZ brand new rebuilt wall and set fire to a bunch of houses and the mill before Daryl can even react.
Alexandrians and reapers fight as Daryl sneaks out to lead the kids to safety. he finds Maggie, asks for Carol, and is glad she is out there looking for him, relatively safe, rather than around to fight and watch ASZ fall.
while out looking for Daryl, Carol hears the explosions, sees the fire and she and dog return to ASZ as fast as they can. they are greeted by Leah at what used to be front gate...
i realize this is getting extremely long, so i'll just say that i absolutely don't want Carol to have anything to do with Leah's possible imminent death. i don't want that guilt on her conscience, and i don't want her to feel like Leah is just another person she took from Daryl (like Connie!). i don't even want Leah to die! unless she's trying to hurt or kill Daryl.
somehow i think it would be a good twist, if for a quick second Carol thought Daryl had betrayed them and joined the reapers for Leah. of course, Carol knows better. SHE KNOWS DARYL. he would never, but for a brief panicked moment, it would be good to see her react to that. i can only imagine the pain in her eyes. but she also trusts Daryl with her life.
we have no idea what Leah knows about Carol, but i'd like the pocketknife Daryl regifted to come back. how would Leah react? likely angry to see another woman with something that was hers. i want to believe Daryl would never tell Leah anything about Carol because she is just too important and too personal to share. but maybe Leah can tell there was someone else !? who knows.
i just want it to be completely clear Daryl is done with that part of his past. Daryl is not alone and lost in the woods anymore without his brother Rick and his bestie Carol. ever since Carol brought him back, Daryl has acted like he knows exactly what he wants and he's done playing games. and what he wants is not Leah or Connie. he wants for ALL his family to be safe and happy, and he wants to run away with Carol and see the world. AND i want both Carol and Daryl to feel free to be free and live freely.
as for the make up and make out part... (that's saved for 11b, hopefully!)
team family won, most of the reapers are dead, except for Leah. Daryl (with Carol's nod of approval!) decides to spare her, gives her some supplies and tells her to get lost. at the same time, Eugene arrives with the troopers from CommonWealth to help with the whisperer war. WHOOPS. 2 wars, 2 late, bruh! but the group leaves to join the good people at CW.
Carol and Daryl have a very long conversation about everything that happened and what they have been feeling. Daryl telling her exactly why he was so mad at her (she kept leaving, can't commit!), her actions (almost getting herself killed!) since Henry's death and how he needs her in his life. no matter how she sees herself or whether she thinks she's worthy or not, he just wants her to be there next to him for whatever is to come.
plus Carol realizing she needed to get closer and let people in without fear, not give up hope and actually fight for a better future for herself. and finally, admitting to Daryl that it was horrible to think he might've been gone forever, promising to never make him feel the way she felt. basically, a promise to never ever leave him again (cue to making out!)
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thanksjro · 4 years ago
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More Than Meets the Eye #30 - The Cybertronian Judicial System is a Friggin’ Joke
Have I mentioned that I’m not a huge fan of court case stories? I think they’re pretty boring, on average, so the last couple of issues have been slightly dragging for me.
Anyway, back to Megatron’s trial. 

Our issue opens up with a full back shot of Ultra Magnus.
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Artists take note, he really is built like a capital T.
As Magnus reads out Megatron’s statement retracting his “guilty” plea, we get some decent points as to why. See, telling a guy that you’ll stab him in the brain, so his trial can be over as quickly as possible, maybe isn’t such a hot idea. Megatron wasn’t a huge fan of that, or of how those memories they would’ve yanked outta him would have been used to fuel the Autobot propaganda machine. Why, you may ask?
Well, I don’t know if you knew this or not, but Megatron… doesn’t particularly care for the Autobots, nor the rhetoric they uphold.
I know, I was surprised too!
There’s also the fact that Optimus Prime is the judge on this whole thing. You know. Optimus Prime. Off and on leader of the Autobots, whenever it suits him. The guy who fucked off into space for a year after the war. The guy who threw a hissy fit when someone pointed out that he was compromised the last time they did something like this with Megatron. This guy:
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Yeah, there might be a slight conflict of interests here. Remind me again why this had to be a military trial?
Anyway, enough of that, it’s time for a fight scene.
A swarm of Decepticons storm the arena, going after Megatron so they can help him escape. Magnus, though acting as Megatron’s defense, cannot abide by this disorder in the court.
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Wild to think there’s a tiny little Pringles man with anxiety in there, isn’t it?
Optimus joins the fray, because there really are, just, so many guys to deal with here. A dude goes to collect Megatron, stating that they brought teleport packs for this little shindig. Megatron isn’t super jazzed about that though, not bothering to grab on before the dude gets shot to death. There’s a brief recess, I guess so the janitorial staff can deal with the mess of corpses littering the courtroom.
Meanwhile, in the present day, Rung’s building a model spaceship in Swerve’s, which is a very brave thing to be doing, seeing how sticky and gross bars can be. Brainstorm’s brought a flask to the bar, and proceeds to pour the contents into a funnel sticking out of his arm.
Our bartender for the evening- I’m assuming it’s evening, but I doubt the concept of time has any real weight in space- is Bluestreak. Bluestreak was stationed on Earth for a while, which is some Phase One stuff, and took a liking to human media while he was there. He’s the guy who handles movie night these days, seeing as Rewind’s too busy being dead to do it, and I doubt Chromedome has the emotional bandwidth to take over for his late spouse.
Bluestreak’s favorite movie is Zulu, a film glorifying the colonialism of the English over the native populace of an African kingdom. Make of that what you will.
Whirl wants to watch À Bout de Soufflé, or Breathless, as it was translated for the English-speaking world, which is a French New Wave film about a criminal who shoots a cop, hides from the police in a journalist’s home, who he seduces and likely impregnates. She eventually finds out what he did, reports him to the police, but then has a change of heart and lets him know what she’s done. He runs, but is shot, and dies in the street. The film is notable for its final scene, in which the following dialogue happens, between the dying criminal Michael, his lover Patricia, and an officer.
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Of course, any poignancy would almost certainly be lost on the average comic book reader, and is also somewhat nullified by Whirl praising the film with internet lingo.
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Then again, I suppose Whirl would be the type to dismantle any deeper reading of his interest in such a film, lest he be subjected to the horrifying ordeal of being known.
Over with Skids and Riptide, it’s revealed that Megatron’s been teaching classes on the Lost Light, specifically on the Knights of Cybertron. Riptide’s getting an education, because he’s been feeling pretty lost since the war ended- we’ll get to the potential whys of that later on. Swerve isn’t a fan of this community college thing that’s going on, stating that Megatron’s using it as a distraction, so he can devise plots most foul.
Back in the past, Autobot high command is having a talk about what Megatron’s demanding, and man is it a doozy— turns out, since the trial’s happening on Luna 2, the trial proceedings are subject to the laws of the moon. One of these moon laws is the right to request being judged by the Knights of Cybertron. Now, this is a problem, seeing as the Knights of Cybertron have been AWOL for the last several million years, but the law is the law, and you can’t just go ignoring it when someone’s pointed it out.
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Bro, your SIC just suggested y’all pull the trial so you could slap it on Cybertron, thus negating any need to pay attention to the Knight law. That’s such a gross miscarrying of justice, it’s genuinely baffling. You’ve got bigger issues going on than flouting. My god, Optimus, you were a cop—
Oh wait, that’s right. Carry on, then.
Back on the Lost Light, First Aid’s checking to make sure that the coffin Rodimus they revealed last issue is true and proper dead. Now, this may seem like a given, but you’ve got to remember that Brainstorm was mostly dead for over a year and a half, and nobody fucking noticed, so it’s probably for the best that they’re checking.
First Aid’s been pretty withdrawn since Ambulon died, so this autopsy is really good for him, since it got him out of his room. Pretty fucked up that it would take a dead body to get him out and about. Has Rung checked in on his poor son of a gun, or has he been spending the last six months getting his professional rocks off psychoanalyzing a genocidal warlord?
Our coffin Rodimus died from having parts of his brain removed, and potentially died screaming.
Yes, that is a Furmanism, thank you peanut gallery, moving on—
Ratchet hands the phone over to Ultra Magnus, saying that a call has to be made, and it can’t be by him, because the callee is mighty upset with Ratchet at the moment.
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Oh, I guess he’s fine after all. This must be where the sci-fi bullshit really starts kicking in for the series.
Because seeing your own dead body is likely very traumatic and awful, Rodimus is taking a while to string together his thoughts on the matter. Megatron doesn’t particularly care, because he’s not terribly sympathetic to this sort of thing, and the two get into a spat, where it’s revealed that they’re co-captaining the Lost Light.
Because things weren’t chaotic enough on this fucking ship. Need to mix in some peacocking between the McDonalds twunk and the man who killed half of Beijing.
Back in the past, Optimus Prime visited Megatron in prison to have a little chat. It’s not about that little rescue attempt, though the fact that those Decepticons may have been released from the Lost Light’s brig is certainly interesting. No, Optimus is here to sit way too close to his mortal nemesis on the floor of his room and talk about how Megatron is a sneaky bastard.
You remember the Hellraiser puzzle box from a couple issues back? Yeah, that was a communicube, one that was passed to Optimus to suggest that the trial be held on the moon, so the arena there would be able to hold all the people wronged by Megatron. This seems pretty damn convenient in hindsight, but Megatron swears that the legal loophole wasn’t his only intent when he sent the cube.
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Because it’s all about you, isn’t it, Megatron? It’s all about how you’re perceived by future generations. Fuck the guys who had to actually deal with what your personal choices caused to happen.
Megatron wants to make amends with all those who were wronged by him. This doesn’t include being acquitted of his crimes, which, y’know, good- at least he’s being slightly realistic about how this is going to turn out for him.
What he wants to do is find Cyberutopia, so the Cybertronians have a replacement planet, since Cybertron kind of sucks now.
Oh, sorry, did I say realistic? I take it back.
In the present, Rodimus is still bummed out about being dead. Still, the day doesn’t stop just because it’s a bad one, and he calls in the experts.
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CHROMEDOME YOU PROMISED TO STOP THIS SHIT
Yeah, no, Chromedome’s fallen off the wagon again, and does his thing on the coffin Rodimus. As he does, Megatron suddenly gets squeamish, Brainstorm pulls out his early early-warning device to lean on the fourth wall, and it’s revealed that the coffin that coffin Rodimus was in was built in the fashion of the Spectralist faith.
All Chromedome can suss out of coffin Rodimus’ memories is the really big important stuff, which includes the speech at Rivet’s Field inviting folks to come join the Knight Quest. Aww, that’s sweet.
With the analysis of the innermost energon complete, the results are in— the coffin Rodimus is a Rodimus. A real one, from the near future. Bummer.
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I suppose denial is one of the seven stages of grief, isn’t it?
As everyone argues over whether or not Rodimus is going to die, Nightbeat brings up a good point— there aren’t any numbers carved into the coffin Rodimus’ hand. Rodimus is about to reveal some Ratchet-original wisdom, when things start getting really weird; whole sections of the Lost Light are disappearing.
Over at Swerve’s, Tailgate is regaling his peers with the story of his derring-do against Chief Justice Tyrest. Everyone is very impressed, and this includes our good buddy Getaway.
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Jeez, think you’ve got enough antagonist shadows on this guy? It’s almost as if the art’s trying to tell us something about him.
Getaway lays it on real thick, saying that Tailgate could totally be the next Prime, with how courageous and awesome he is, all while completely ignoring Tailgate’s personal space and having a weirdly tiny hand. This seems to seriously bother Cyclonus, who is watching this shit go down from the doorway. Our purple space jet leaves once the drinks start being poured and conversation starts happening. God knows he hates talking about his insecurities.
Then the Pipes is Friggin’ Dead alarm goes off. But Pipes has been dead for a while now, so that must mean something else awful is happening.
Back during the trial, I guess because Optimus has a soft spot for Megatron, he allows him to join the Lost Light’s Knight Quest… even as he says that he could keep the guy locked up until Rodimus and pals find the Knights. However, there are rules to this, and one of the rules is that Megatron must publicly denounce the Decepticon cause.
It is a slow and painful experience for everyone involved, as he reads the statement he was given. It’s an immediate call to action- or rather, inaction.
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Geez, think they could’ve made it any more obvious that this was being ghostwritten? I can’t wait to see how long it takes for “Megatron was blackmailed into saying this by the Autobots” to be a plotpoint.
Outside the prison, Ratchet and Rodimus are taking in the brand new Rod Pod, which is genuinely ridiculous in how large it is. Rodimus admits to having taken Atomizer’s list, though he knows that trying to use it to keep those who voted him off would be a pretty shitty thing to do.
Also, no one’s told him about Megatron coming along on the trip. As captain.
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Or you could, I dunno, lock him up from the start. Or, if you want to give him a chance to prove himself, slap him into a bottom-rung role, like bilge cleaner, or sewage mucker, or whatever the equivalent would be on a spaceship full of giant gay robots. We don’t have to give the guy any power to hold him to scrutiny— any minimum wage worker will tell you that scrutiny comes far harsher for those who actually carry out orders than those who give them.
But what do I know? I’ve never fought in a several million year war, and I don’t plan to.
Getting back to the list, it seems as if Ratchet and Rodimus are on the same wavelength, in that both agree it’s only going to cause trouble and hurt feelings to keep the thing around. Rodimus destroys it with his usual flare, only to be blindsided by the fact that it was fake this entire time. How does Ratchet know this?
Because his name wasn’t on it.
...Man, that’s gotta sting. No wonder Rodimus was upset enough to not take his calls.
In the present, everyone’s in a panic, as they all bolt for the shuttle bay and start pouring into shuttles. The Lost Light is disintegrating around them, which is sort of a problem. Despite this nightmare scenario happening, Rodimus and Megatron still find the time to be assholes to each other. That’s dedication right there.
As the two bicker, multiple shuttles zip away from the rapidly disappearing ship, including the Rod Pod.
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Man, now it really is the Lost Light.
180 notes · View notes
imaginesupply · 4 years ago
Text
Homecoming - Chapter Three
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(Gif's not my own.)
Summary: The day has arrived, Captain Syverson is going home. For good, this time. He is going home to a civilian life he can hardly remember and a wife he barely knows, with memories of the war still fresh on his mind. Love might not be able to heal everything on its own, but it’s a good start.
Genres: Romance, drama.
Story warnings: Smut (always fully consensual), mentions of PTSD and nightmares and mental health, angst, hurt and comfort, fluff, mentions of war (minor), mentions of cheating (minor), mentions of pregnancy (very minor), police appearance (very minor), violence (very minor).
Notes:
It’s my first time writing for one of Henry’s characters and I’m unsure I did Sy’s character any justice.
This is a Capt. Syverson x OFC (Ada) story, written in 3rd person POV but OFC’s physical description is very limited so it could also be read as Capt. Syverson x Reader, I think.
English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. Proofread, but not beta’ed. We die like men and all that.
Timeline is a little wacky: The movie takes place in 2003 and the U.S. forces were withdrawn from Iraq in 2011, but I never set a precise date because I don’t think it’s essential for this story. However, some elements might not be realistic because if we set this story in 2003: Phone cameras quality was not as good as it’s now, but for the purpose of the chapters, I will need you to imagine you could film great videos with your flip phone haha. Plus, it says Sy is coming back after being deployed for more than three years which makes no sense unless we set this in 2006 or later. I am asking you disregard any time inconsistencies.
Also: I am not American. I only lived in the US for six months and it was in the Midwest, not Texas so please bear with me if I write something stupid.
Finally: This will be a Christmas fic and I intend to post the last chapter (there will be seven in total) on or before Christmas. However, religion is never mentioned in this story and the Christmas-sy elements of this story are limited to family gathering, gift giving and tree decorating.
Chapter Three starts after the cut. (Chapter Two can be found here.) Let me know if you wish to be tagged in future chapters or if you wish to be removed from the tag list.
Chapter Three
Chapter warnings: Smut, alcohol consumption (moderate), mentions of contraception and of pregnancy.
I think that’s it, but this chapter killed my brain – it was very difficult to write and I feel like I botched it. There are various important moments in this chapter that I found very hard to translate from my brain into words. And the smut, oh my God, it’s so bad!
"You know, when you came to me all bossy and told me to lose my clothes, I had something a lot different in mind." Sy grumbled from the bed, where he was sat wearing nothing but boxer briefs.
Ada laughed and turned around, sticking out her tongue at him before going back to what she was doing, namely sorting through Sy's clothes in the walk-in closet. She slid a pair of jeans off its hangers and threw it at him without looking back. "I admit that I probably don't need as many clothes as I own, but you're definitely a minimalist."
Sy grunted noncommittally, he was not amused, but tried on the jeans all the same. They didn't fit, he couldn't pull them up past the thighs. "Hey darlin'," he called her, a hint of amusement audible in his voice.
She turned around at the pet name and then forced herself not to laugh at the sight in front of her. Sy had already been a burly man when they had met, but it seemed he had managed to gain even more muscle mass in the past few months, now looking like an absolute bear of a man. Ada grinned and tilted her head at the cardboard box at the end of the bed. "Put those in the donation pile."
"Yes, ma'am," Sy said, getting up and doing as asked.
Ada grabbed her small pencil and added another item to the list. "So, you need jeans, new boots, sweatshirts, t-shirts..." She went on, listing the items. What he needed was a whole new wardrobe and she was the woman for the mission.
Turning around, she found Sy rolling his eyes at her. "I ain't need no new t-shirts, woman. I got the black one, the red one and the khaki one."
Ada chuckled and approached him on the bed, coming to stand between his legs. It was unusual for her to be taller than him, and with him sitting on the bed and her standing up, she still didn't have that much of an advantage. With a grin, she leaned forward and kissed his forehead before pulling back to look into his eyes. Instinctively, almost an automatism, his hands found purchase on her hips.
"Last time you wore your red 'DILLIGAF' t-shirt, three separate kids stopped and asked you what the acronym stood for and you looked at me for help."
Sy held her gaze, not keen on losing the staring contest. Ada didn't want to relent but she didn't want to force him either, not after what had happened while grocery shopping. "It's okay if you really don't want to go, I won't for-"
Sy shook his head, silencing her before she could even finish. "Let's get this shopping over with. But I'm warning you: I'll be complaining the whole time."
For a moment, Ada pursed her lips, seemingly unconvinced but eventually her frown was replaced with a grin. "I would expect nothing else from you, grumpy bear," she teased before turning around, excited about the task at hand.
Sy left to get dressed but not before landing a playful smack on her ass.
°°°
It went just as Ada had imagined. Sy sat down on the sofa at the far end of the store, keeping everything in sight, and she would occasionally come up to him with suggestions. To an onlooker, they resembled a devout worshipper trying to make offerings to a very picky and very handsome god.
His replies to the items she presented to him went anywhere from 'no' to 'not a chance in hell', without forgetting the classic 'you lost your mind, darlin’'.
After visiting three stores and Ada trying to visually guess his size because Sy absolutely refused to try out any of the clothes, they had managed to get most of what he needed. It just turned out to be near recreations of the clothes he already owned, just bigger and newer. And with more child friendly texts.
They stopped for coffee by the center of the open-air mall. True to himself, Sy ordered just that - a coffee with 'none of the fancy shit'.
"You're sure you don't want to go to any of your stores?" Sy asked, watching her sip on her colorful drink.
Well, the idea was tempting but she already had more candles and blankets than necessary. And she knew he was uneasy even if he was hiding it well. "No, it's okay. I know you don't like shopping and I can just ask some friends if I really want to go." Sy hummed.
By the time Ada finished her season exclusive drink, she noticed Sy was staring at a shop window. She was almost excited that he was finally interested in buying clothes before noticing that it was some video game advertisement.
"You can buy the game, if you want. No need to stare," she teased.
He reverted his attention back to her. "It's only compatible with the new console that came out last month and that one's sold out." Ada started beaming as he spoke. "What?"
"Well... a few months ago, I came across the launch announcement on the Internet. And I had seen the old model in the study, so I knew you liked it and since you were coming home soon..."
Sy's eyes became even bluer for a moment, a huge grin threatening to illuminate his face. "Are you saying that...?"
Ada laughed, shaking her head. He looked like a kid on Christmas Day. "Yes. It's wrapped in gift paper in the basement under the utility sink."
"I love you, wife."
Again, she scoffed. "Yeah, yeah... Now let's go get you that damn game."
°°°
Later that day, or rather night, Sy wasn't even paying attention to the movie they, or rather, she was watching. He had gotten the gist of it - superheroes teaming up together to save the world - that sufficed him. His focus was entirely on his wife nested between his legs, her back resting against his chest.
When they got home from the mall and went to sort through his clothes and belongings, finally unpacking the rest of his duffel bag, Ada came across his dog tags. She asked if she could keep them. Sy frowned at the odd request but agreed nonetheless, shrugging dismissively.
Ada then proceeded to put the chain around her neck and slide the tags under her blouse. He had stared at her a little confused; she was smiling, looking all smug as if she had managed to trick him out of something valuable and not just two cheap metal tags hanging off an equally cheap chain.
"The fact that I get to have both your tags means I am very lucky to have gotten you back alive and in one piece. I don't want to ever forget that."
With his height advantage, even sitting behind her, Sy could see the chain disappearing under her pajamas and the tags resting in the valley of her breasts. Somehow, the sight made him feel even more possessive than the wedding band on her ring finger.
Things always had felt slightly uncertain with Ada, there had always been the shadow of a doubt in his mind when it came to her. They had gotten married on a whim and she knew he was a green beret, deployed most of the time. It's an entirely different thing to marry someone you get to see for a couple of weeks every once in a blue moon and to actually live, share a home with someone. When Sy had told her, he was coming home for good over the phone, he had half expected her to ask him for a divorce or to find himself alone at the airport. His face hadn't shown it, but when Ada put on the damn chain he had hated wearing in the goddamn desert where it would chafe his nape or get tangled in his chest hairs, Sy felt as happy as a sand boy.
She seemed honest when she said there was nothing going on with that Tom guy. Not that he could truly blame her if there was, even if it would have broken him. His parents had been married for over thirty-five years and his mom found a new boyfriend not even two years after his father's passing.
And yet, Ada was there, cuddling with him on the couch. She hadn't served him with divorce papers upon his arrival. Instead, they had spent the past few days pretty much glued together as they usually did when he was on leave.
Maybe it was time he started to believe that he had come home to his wife and she really wasn't going anywhere. Especially since she hadn't asked him to wear a condom ever since he got home and he hadn't seen her contraceptive pills on her nightstand either. Sy even checked the bathroom cabinet where he knew she kept some medication, but he didn't find anything there either. This morning, he had even considered asking her about it, but he figured that if she hadn't mentioned anything so far, it was because she wanted it to be a surprise and he didn't want to ruin it. Though he'd be lying if he said he wasn't going to be checking the same cabinet for pregnancy tests in the future.
"You good?" Ada asked as the film came to an end, tilting her head back but only getting a view of his beard. It made her smile, though. Sy really was her bear: big, strong and hairy.
"Yeah, I just," he stammered slightly as if waking up from his thoughts. "I was thinking we should probably change the stairs' railing into something safer before we have kids running up and down."
"Yep, that's not gonna happen," Ada chipped in, jumping off the couch before starting to fold the blanket.
"What?" Sy blurted out, turning all his attention to her. "The railing or the kids?"
"The kids," she replied nonchalantly, now laying the blanket in the basket by the sofa. "If you want to redo the stairs, that's fine. I think we could even paint them white."
In a second, Sy was up on his feet, his imposing stature crowding her. "What do you mean, that ain't happening? You don't want kids?"
Ada frowned, suddenly uncomfortable at his intense stare. "No.”
"Why did you never tell me?"
"Why did you assume kids were a given?" Ada retorted, taking a few steps back to put some distance between them. "I figured that if it was important to you, you'd have mentioned it sooner, at some point at least."
Sy had to fight the urge to yell at her, the feeling of betrayal and even anger overwhelming him. If he never spoke of it before, it was because he didn't want to have kids while he was deployed and miss their first years. Instead, he forced himself to calm down, taking a deep breath. "Is that a not now or a not ever?"
Ada looked away for a second, gathering her thoughts before moving her eyes back to him. "I got a new Mirena coil a couple of months ago, so I'm set for the next three years at least."
He had no idea what the fuck a 'Mirena coil' was supposed to be but it wasn't hard to figure out. Instinctively, his hand went to the back of head, raking through his short hair. "Just to be clear, Ada," Sy paused, his nostrils flaring, "you don't want children?"
It didn't even take her a second to start regretting her counter after it came out. "Do you?" She snapped back, the enunciation of the 'you' harsher than she had intended.
The effect was instant, her question giving him pause. Did he? Now reflecting on it, Sy realized he had never asked himself that question. It was just something that you did. First you got a house, then you found a wife and started a family. He had never thought about it as an option, just as the next step if he was lucky enough not to die in Iraq.
"I'm so sorry," Ada apologized, her tone alone expressing her regret. She took his hand, forcing him to look at her only to find her eyes glistening as she attempted not to cry. "I didn't mean it like that. I wasn't questioning your parenting skills. I know you'd make a fantastic father, Sy." Her eyes closed as she took a deep breath before opening them again, their corners wet with tears this time. "I just never saw myself having kids, but if it's something you really -"
"I ain't gonna force you to start a family with me," Sy rebuffed, offended at the very thought. The abruption of it even making Ada smile, if only briefly.
She shook her head quickly. "What I meant was that if you want to be a father, then I wish for you to become one. But... I won't be a part of that scenario."
"No." He said, dismissing the idea as soon as she voiced it, catching her hands in his and stilling them midair when she started gesticulating instead.
"No, this is important!" Ada protested. "I want you to be happy, Sy. And I won't stand in the way of your happiness. You deserve to live the life you want and if that includes a family -"
"No." Sy ordered, his tone final and resolute, silencing her instantly. He had never used this voice with her in the past, usually reserving it for the soldiers in his unit. "Stop with that ridiculous suggestion, woman." Ada blinked. It was obvious in her eyes that she wanted to argue but she didn't dare defy his hard stare.
Sy closed his eyes and swallowed, searching for the right words. "The choice between having kids with some other woman or getting to be with you, is a damn easy one. I'd rather we be a family of two than have children with some woman I could never love."
She was crying again, tears streaming down her reddened cheeks. Had he said something wrong? Ada didn't let him wonder for too long, her hand fisting in his t-shirt to pull him down to her lips for a ravenous kiss, their teeth clicking together.
"You know," Ada breathed out against his lips once they parted for air. "It doesn't have to be just the two of us. I am partial to pets."
Later in bed, with his sleeping wife snoring softly and her head resting on his chest, Sy tried to process their conversation only to realize there wasn't much to process at all. It didn't feel that much like giving up on a dream, as it felt like defining the contours his future with Ada. All that mattered to him was that it was a future with the woman whose contagious laugh he had manifested in his mind time and time again to drown out the sound of gunfire and make it through. Children might have been a bonus, he wouldn’t deny that, but their absence was something he could live with. He couldn’t same the thing about Ada.
°°°
"Got your," Sy paused, frowning as he read off the label, entering the kitchen, "Willamette Valley Pinot noir. How many do you need?"
Ada looked away from the oven to find him carrying four bottles of her favorite wine. Did he think they were drunkheads? "Do you want for Tom to have to spend the night here because we're all over the legal alcohol limit and unable to drive?" She laughed.
Sy grimaced. "One bottle it is," he announced, making her laugh all the harder as he set down a single bottle on the table that was already set before casting away the other bottles in the pantry - where they did not, in fact, belong.
Just as was his habit, Sy sneaked up on his wife as she leaned over the kitchen counter, putting away the remaining ingredients and hugged her back to him with one arm. He then dipped a finger in the jar she had filled with leftover caramel and brought it to mouth.
She gasped at his manners. "You can't just stick your fingers in everything that's sweet and lick it off, Sy," Ada chided. She heard it as soon as the words left her mouth, but it was too late.
A deep laugh rumbled in his chest behind her. "Can't I?" Sy goaded her mockingly.
Ada took a deep breath. She knew where this was headed and they didn't have time. It was primordial her pie didn't overcook, and Tom would be there soon. "You know what I meant," she groaned, attempting to sound annoyed but he could hear the smile in her voice.
"Do I?" He whispered against her ear, his beard tickling her skin and his warm breath making her shiver as he slid his hand under her skirt until he was cupping her damp sex over her panties. "Are you certain about that, darlin'?"
Her hands held on to the counter and her eyes closed as he started rubbing his hand along her folds over the fabric. He was also beginning to harden behind at an impressive rate. The temptation made her whimper. "We don't have time," Ada protested, even as her head fell back against him and she leaned into his touch, silently begging for more as she not-so innocently ground her ass on his crotch.
A swift glance at the clock on the wall told him all he needed to know. They had seven minutes. It would have to be enough, Sy decided. Time being of the essence, he was determined not to waste any.
“Open up your legs for your captain, darlin’,” he rasped, his nose nuzzling in the shallow of her neck, his hands already busy bunching up the soft fabric of her skirt around her waist.
“Sy,” Ada lightheartedly protested his eagerness. The idea was certainly enticing but they truly didn’t have time and she really needed to keep an eye on the pie. “We can’t-“
“I said, open your legs,” he repeated, gritting out the words as his foot snuck between her ankles, forcing her legs open himself. Sy barely had to apply any pressure, Ada complied instantly at his tone. There were very few situations in which she let him boss her around and this was one of them.
His hands brushed over her naked thighs, enjoying the way she shivered as he did so. Sliding his fingers higher up her inner legs, Sy expertly slid the scanty lace of her thong aside in order to access her clit. Ada keened under his touch, the rough skin of his finger pads slowly circling her already swollen nub. She couldn’t decide between pressing into his touch or attempting to pull away from it; it was both too little and too much all at once. “Already so wet and I’ve barely done anything to you,” he teased, hoping to sound less worked up than he was. Sy was set on keeping the upper hand. “Tell me, what is it that you want, darlin’?”
Ada whined as he removed his fingers from her core, his hands going to her hips instead and pulling her to him, letting her feel how hard he was for her. His wife reacted by rubbing her ass against him, determined to get what she wanted without having to voice it. “Sy,” she complained when he didn’t bite the bait, still grinding on him, surely getting his jeans wet with her slick.
“That’s not how it works, darlin’,” he chastised, going back to teasing her. His touch was ghostlike, too light to provide any real satisfaction and she groaned in frustration. “You have to ask for it like a good girl.”
He felt her body tense up against his as she tried chasing the friction of his fingers where she wanted them most, but Sy drew away before she could. “I swear to God I am going to make you regret-“
Smack. Ada gasped at the sharp spank on her ass, her body bending over the counter at the impact. Her ass was just too tempting in this position and Sy was running out of patience. “Ask like a good girl,” he ordered between gritted teeth, his hand descending to palm his crotch, hoping for some relief. Her little stunt was turning him on more than it should have.
“God, Sy, just fuck me already!” She sobbed, her legs rubbing together out of their own volition but her husband stayed put, rubbing his palm of his covered cock as he watched her. He wasn’t going to give up any time soon, she realized with a strangled sigh. “Please fuck me, captain,” she whispered, relenting.
Within a second, Sy was unbuckling his belt and pulling down his zipper. His cock was red, hard and throbbing impatiently. With time running out, Sy pushed himself into her without a warning. Ada whined at the stretch, gripping at the flour covered kitchen counter as one of his hands grabbed hold of her hips, the other moving to her breast. Then he started ploughing into her like there was no tomorrow.
Ada kept whimpering his name, but even she didn’t know what it was she was asking for. Her hips were digging into the cold stone and she knew there would be bruises come morning. He had barely started fucking her and she was already beginning to tense up with how worked up she was. “Are you gonna cum for me, darlin’?” Sy grunted, his jaw tense as her inner muscles clenched all around his cock. Ada nodded meekly, unable to speak. Just when he was starting to doubt he’d be able to hold off long enough for her to climax, Ada cried out, her tight walls milking him as she came. Sy exploded inside her with a strangled groan, slowly coming to a still inside her.
The doorbell rang. At seven o’clock on the dot.
"Fucking Brits and their punctuality!" Sy cursed, still panting before pulling away from her and tepidly leaving her warmth. Ada chuckled at his reaction, holding onto the counter for support for a few more seconds until she felt somewhat steady on her feet.
Sy tucked himself back into his pants and she adjusted her skirt over her thighs again before letting out a panicked squeak and turning around. Her front was covered in the flour she has spread on counter for the pie and the white handprint on her breast where he had held on to her was very visible on her black blouse. Sy couldn't keep himself from laughing. She looked great if you asked him, especially since Tom would be going to see just how well he took care of her. "I'll go get changed and you get the door!"
°°°
Sy’s eyes widened, positively surprised as he brought the first forkful of boeuf bourguignon to his mouth. The dish hadn’t appeared particularly appetizing on the plate, but it tasted so much better than it looked. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Ada glancing at him with an ‘I told you so’ smirk.
“I received a new shipment of books at the store today,” Tom told Ada in between bites. He owned a bookstore downtown, Sy had learnt. “There’s a new murder mystery I’m sure you’ll love.”
Ada stilled, a look of excitement washing over her face. “Is there… poison?”
Tom laughed. He had expected that question from her. “Ah, yes. And it’s set in the 1920s!”
Sy glanced from the one to the other, forcing himself not to sigh. Ada’s excitement was adorable, but Tom was grating on his nerves. All the conversation so far had been about novels they’d read recently.
“Please tell me that you saved me a copy.” Ada shrieked enthusiastically, prompting Tom to laugh before he suddenly producer a hardcover out of seemingly thin air. As if she was scared that he was only taunting her with it, Ada leaned over the table and snatched the book out of his hand, a smug look on her face before she started reading the back cover. Sy looked at her and chuckled, shaking his head fondly at her almost childish elation.
"So, where did you two meet?" Tom asked, shifting his attention to Sy. "Ada always told me that it was a story for another time."
Sy's grip tightened on his cutlery. Admittedly, the strong animosity toward the man had faded, but he was still not keen on making conversation with the man. "Here in Austin," Sy replied before going back to his food. Ada had to stifle a laugh at the face Tom made at the curt answer.
"I'll tell you," she offered, capturing Tom's attention. "I had just graduated with my Masters and managed to land a PhD position here in Austin. I was freshly debarked out of France and I was only to start to start mid January but I flew over in December already - wanting to fly with my own wings and all that." Tom chuckled as she gestured derisively with the story.
"Anyway, I hadn't found a flat yet, all my stuff was in a storage unit and I had the brilliant idea of going to Vegas. On my own. In a 1979 black Camaro rental."
Sy finally looked up from his plate. "It was from 1980 and it was dark gray, not black, darling’."
Ada found herself staring curiously at her husband as he interrupted her story before laughing. That's what it took to get him to talk?
"So, it was a 1979, dark gray Camaro,” Ada correctly herself. “Anyway, obviously it did not have a navigation system and I stopped at one of the few open bars open at 5pm on Christmas Eve, ordered a beer and tried making sense of the maps I found in the glovebox, making a list of the different exits and turns I would have to make.
"Sy was there drinking with some friends – loud friends, might I add. Well, I am struggling with the maps and he must notice because he approaches me at the counter, takes of his cap and asks me if I need help, in his southern drawl. Actually, no wait, his exact words were” Ada paused, clearing her voice. “’Need some help reading that map, darling?'" Tom laughed at her ridiculous attempt to imitate Sy’s baritone voice. To Ada's surprise, Sy blushed. It was barely visible beneath his beard, but it was there and it was the cutest thing she had ever seen.
"I looked down at the map she was studying and asked her if she was headed somewhere on the east coast. She then slowly looked at me and confidently told me she was going to Nevada, until I pointed out that she was highlighting the road that went East and her face burned up, all self-conscious." Sy recounted, now laughing as well and even Tom scoffed. " I said: ‘At this point, even a navigation system can’t help you, darlin’. You’d need an escort.”
Ada bit her lip, remembering that moment clearly in her mind. She had flushed, staring at the muscular man that towered next to her. He was burly and rugged and yet still exhaled a little softness behind it all. 'Well then, will you be my escort to Vegas? I am leaving tonight,' she had blurted out before she could stop herself.
"I cannot believe you drove from Austin to Las Vegas with a stranger, Ada!" Tom said teasingly, clearly surprised by his friend’s spontaneity and recklessness.
"Yes, I made him miss Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with his family, and the best part is that we got married the day we reached Vegas on New Year’s Eve.” They had stopped a few times along the way, visited some towns and she had only known Sy for seven days when we got hitched at the kitschiest chapel imaginable. “We had to hurry to get a marriage license before the courthouse closed and a half-naked dude officiated because everyone else was already booked.”
Sy chuckled, sitting back against his chair and wrapping his arm around Ada's shoulders possessively. "She made me wear my old uniform that lasted all of fifteen minutes and was presided by an officer dressed as a cherub." He gestured at the framed picture standing on the cupboard next to them.
They looked absolutely ridiculous. Sy's uniform made him look too serious next to a tipsy Ada who wore the only white dress she had been able to find on such short notice and that definitely hadn’t been meant for a wedding because it turned out to be partly see-through under the camera flashes.
Ada shared some more stories about Vegas before excusing herself to the bathroom, the conversation instantly dying out as she disappeared, leaving both men in an uncomfortable silence until Sy’s curiosity got to him.
"So, you and her...?" Sy left his question unfinished. He wasn't sure what exactly it was that he was asking, he just wanted to know all there was to know.
In front of him, Tom gracefully dabbed him mouth with the ivory napkin and shook his head, with a tight smile. "No, nothing of the sort," the Englishman replied dismissively before Sy's inquiring stare forced him to expound. "It's not that I didn't think of pursuing something more with her, but Ada made it very clear from the beginning that she was a married woman and a faithful wife."
Sy hummed noncommittally, though internally he was reassured and maybe even elated. Mike had really filled his head with shit. Deep down, he always knew his Ada wasn't like that, it just felt good to hear it.
"My wife, for whom I left England, passed away only two months before Ada and I met. I was going through a rough patch then - and that's a euphemism. Carla had been talking to me about watching a particular film ever since it had been announced, it was an adaptation of her favorite novel." Tom explained, a smile warming up his features. "When she died before it premiered, I wasn't even sure if I even wanted to watch it without her... But the tickets had already been purchased and part of me hoped that for two hours, it would feel like Carla was sitting right next to me."
Sy listened, feeling sympathetic, if not a little uncomfortable by the man’s openness. He still wanted to dislike Tom but at the same time he couldn't imagine the wreck he'd be if Ada were to die on him.
"The cinema was packed and to accommodate a large group, Ada asked whether I minded if she sat down next to me,” Tom paused briefly, smiling at the memory. “I think it was listening to her laugh, cry and eat popcorn next to me during the movie that gave me the strength to drive home instead of off a cliff that night."
Sy gulped down the rest of his wine, still not a fan of the taste as he faced the Englishman before him. Not that he would ever say it out loud, but if he had failed to make it alive out of that godforsaken desert, he had to concede Tom would not have been the worst for Ada.
Silence fell again and Sy became uncomfortable, deciding to pour Tom some more wine. “I am glad Ada and you were there for each other.” When I should’ve been there for her myself but wasn’t, Sy thought but left it unsaid.
Tom chuckled as he observed the burly man in front of him. For all his muscles and gruff exterior, he carried the slightest of insecurities when it came to his wife. "There's a thick silver notebook Ada has kept for a couple of years. Maybe you should have a look at it.”
Sy wanted to ask what he was talking about but was interrupted by the sound of Ada's high heels clicking on the wooden floor as she made her way back to them. "I hope you weren't talking ill of me behind my back," she teased, squeezing Sy's shoulder absentmindedly. "Now, who's ready for my slightly overcooked tarte tatin.” Ada eyed her husband pointedly.
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fallen-gravity · 4 years ago
Text
Cheap Thrills and Expensive Snacks
Mabel grins. “Grunkle Ford, do you want to go on a road trip with us? One last adventure before we have to go home?”
Ford’s smile softens with sadness. He’d gotten so caught up in reveling in Bill’s defeat that he’d almost forgotten the kids were heading back to California at the end of the summer.
Ford shakes his head. “I would love to, but…” he frowns. “I’m not sure we have enough time”
The young twins exchange grins, like that’s exactly the response they were waiting for.
“I wouldn’t say that, Grunkle Ford” Dipper grins, looking like he’s struggling to suppress a fit of giggles.
“We have all time in the world” Mabel finishes Dipper’s sentence for him, and in perfect unison the twins pull out a roll of measuring tape from their pockets.
Notes: Here's my belated entry for Week 3 of Forduary: Road Trip!! I absolutely love the road trip trope, and highkey wish Ford could've gotten to see some of Stan's competitors just for the sake of how awful they were compared to the Mystery Shack. C'mon! Give Stan some credit.I also wanted an excuse for Ford to bond more with the kids before they went home, and what better way than through a never-ending roadtrip that somewhat breaks the laws of time and space?
@forduary
AO3
Ever since Ford heard the first bird chirping the morning after Weirdmageddon’s conclusion, he’s felt like a thirty-year old weight has finally been lifted from his shoulders. For the first time in decades, Ford has found himself able to sleep, able to eat, able to do and say anything he pleases without having to speak in hushed tones or cast a cautious glance behind his shoulders.
For the first time since his childhood, he truly feels like himself again, and no longer like a marionette whose strings are always on the brink of snapping under pressure.
It was that first morning after the war, upon waking up before others (out of habit, mostly), that he allowed himself to truly sit and ponder on everything he’s been missing since shutting himself out from the world in his early twenties. He quickly came to the conclusion that the things he missed most were always the things he’d always had just outside of arm’s length; He missed the thrill of discovery, of exploration,  the passion for his life’s work that had faded into thin air the moment that fateful first test run of the portal had failed.
Most of all, he missed companionship.
As much as he hated to admit it to himself, Ford needed other people in his life more than anything else, even more than Ivy League schools and research grants and all the knowledge in the universe.
He told Stan the reason he wanted to take a boat out to the Arctic was to track and contain the remnants of Weirdmageddon that had begun to spread outside of Gravity Falls. But truth be told, he would’ve asked Stan if he still wanted to travel world with him regardless, because Ford found himself wanting nothing more than to chase their childhood dream and never let it go again.
There’s a light knock on his study door as he’s scribbling down navigation notes and he’s half-expecting to see Stan when he turns to the noise. He’s instead met with Dipper and Mabel, standing side by side in his doorway.
“Got a minute?” Dipper asks.
“We have something super important to ask you!” Mabel beams.
Ford places his pen down on his desk, and smiles. “I’m listening”
“Well,” Dipper starts. “We’ve been thinking about how we didn’t get to spend a whole lot of time with you this summer because...” he shrugs. “Well, because we didn’t know you existed until a few weeks ago”
“And that’s totally unfair to you!” Mabel throws her arms up in the air. “It’s not your fault you missed out on all the fun because you were trapped in another dimension”
Dipper nods. “And that got us thinking of all the time we spent with Grunkle Stan, and the road trip he took us on a few weeks ago without you. I don’t know if that was because he asked you and you said no, or if he left without telling you out of spite, or something”
“And that’s when a super genius idea came to us!” Mabel grins. “Grunkle Ford, do you want to go on a road trip with us? One last adventure before we have to go home?”
Ford’s smile softens with sadness. He’d gotten so caught up in reveling in Bill’s defeat that he’d almost forgotten the kids were heading back to California at the end of the summer.
But…a glance to the calendar hanging by the doorway tells him it’s August 29th, and the twins are set to leave after their birthday party ends on the 31st.
Ford shakes his head. “I would love to, but…” he frowns. “I’m not sure we have enough time”
The young twins exchange grins, like that’s exactly the response they were waiting for.
“I wouldn’t say that, Grunkle Ford” Dipper grins, looking like he’s struggling to suppress a fit of giggles.
“We have all time in the world” Mabel finishes Dipper’s sentence for him, and in perfect unison the twins pull out a roll of measuring tape from their pockets. Before Ford has even a moment to wonder what they could mean, they each pull on their tape, high five each other, and disappear into thin air.
Ford stumbles to his feet, nearly knocking his chair to the ground. Between one blink and the next the kids reappear, both of them wearing period piece costumes. The measuring tapes in their hand crackle with blue lightning.
Ford gasps. “Time tapes! Of course!” He approaches the twins in the doorway. “How did you two get ahold of these?”
“Let’s just say we have an inside to these sorts of things” Mabel replies, kicking her costume off and placing her time tape back into her sweater pocket.
“So what do you say?” Dipper steps forward. “Do you want to come with us on a road trip? We can literally go whenever we want”
“You mean when--” Mabel pauses, backtracking. “Oh, wait, you did say that”
“So what do you say, Grunkle Ford? One more adventure for the road?”
Ford’s chest fills with warmth. He’d love to; he really would, but…
“What about Stan?”
“Y’gotta give me some credit, poindexter” Stan’s voice rings from behind the corner. If Ford had to guess, it’s probably because he was waiting for his response. “Someone’s gotta tag along to babysit you three”
Ford wants to glare at his brother at the insult, but his excitement overtakes it and a grin spreads to his face instead.
“Let’s go,” he says, with all the wonder in his tone that he’d been missing for years.
Dipper and Mabel exchange nods, and take each other’s hands. With their free hands, they stretch their measuring tapes out the same length.  Stan grabs on to Mabel’s shoulder, and after he and Dipper share a silent, knowing glance, Ford places his hand on Dipper’s shoulder.
Dipper and Mabel release their tape in unison, and a large flash of white light overwhelms Ford’s vision. When it finally fades, the four of them are still standing exactly where they’d been a moment ago, the only indication that anything changed being the sparks of blue lightning crackling from their clothes.
Dipper’s the first to step away from the huddle. “See?” He gestures at Ford’s wall calendar, which now displays June instead of August. “It’s practically the beginning of the summer all over again!”
Mabel breaks away to stand beside Dipper. “Now we can go anywhere we want! We could go to Portland, or Vegas, or the lost city of Atlantis, or anywhere in the world, because this bad boy prevents us from missing our bus ride home for as long as we want!”
Stan chuckles, shaking his head. “Not so fast, Mabel. I love the enthusiasm, but I’m not sure my old RV can handle driving into the ocean. Not unless Brainiac over here is willing to do some modifications on it” Stan throws an arm around Ford’s shoulder, squeezing it tightly. “Besides, I’ve already got a plan!” Stan’s gaze shifts to Ford, and the grin on his face could split it in two. “If you think my attractions look fake, just wait ‘til you see how bad my competitors look compared to me!”
“I dunno,” Dipper frowns, scratching at his chin. “Don’t you think going back to the place where you were almost eaten by a giant spider lady is a bad idea?”
“Hey, time travel rules mean that I never met her in the first place, right?” Stan crosses his arms. “Besides, it’s not like I’m gonna fall for her tricks all over again just because she offers me discounted tickets, or something”
Dipper and Mabel exchange worried glances.
“Mmm, okay,” Dipper says. “But we’re keeping an eye on you”
“That’s the spirit!” Stan exclaims, and slaps Ford on the back as he backs out of the room. “I’m gonna go pack. I doubt you have anything to pack, Sixer, but we’re reconvening in the gift shop in an hour. Go…take a shower or something. I don’t wanna spend next twelve hours driving with someone smelling like that.”
Ford glares at him, but before he has time to respond Stan’s already gone. The kids must’ve slipped out close on Stan’s heels, because when Ford turns he’s alone in his room. Rolling his eyes, he walks to his couch and kneels on the ground, reaching underneath for his emergency exploration pack. It’s a backpack torn and worn from age, and comes already packed with water bottles, nutrient bars, sunscreen, and just about every brand of monster repellent known to mankind.
A nostalgic sort of smile threatens to tug at his lips. He hasn’t seen this bag since his early research days with Fiddleford. He slings it over his shoulders, and pats at his trench coat pocket to make sure his journal is still safely tucked inside. He doesn’t necessarily plan on making any more additions, but he supposes that old habits die hard.
~~
It’s a very bulky RV, much bigger than Ford was expecting. He’d assumed that Stan calling it an RV was just an exaggeration, and that the four of them would just be piling into the Stanleymobile as they tugged some tiny trailer along that they would only would only step foot in for sleeping. But as Ford approaches, he can see Dipper and Mabel chatting at a small table through the window, and Stan rummaging through a cupboard above them, and it looks as though there’s still plenty of room to walk between them.
Mabel taps on Dipper’s shoulder, points in Ford’s direction, and both of them wave frantically out the window at him.
“Took you long enough,” Stan suddenly appears in the doorway of the camper. “Now get in. The last thing we need is to run into the past versions of those two and get bombarded with questions” He gestures with his thumb towards Dipper. “Especially him.  He sees that journal sticking out of your pocket and we’re done for”
Ford chuckles. “I can only imagine,” he says, and climbs aboard behind Stan. He’s about to take the passenger side seat besides Stan when the kids frantically wave him over.
“Grunkle Ford, over here!” Mabel beams, and hops down from her seat across from Dipper. “Come sit with us!”
“This is a road trip about spending more time with you, after all” Dipper nods. “What good will it do for us if you’re sitting way up front with Stan?”
“Yeah! No good interrogation ever happens from across the room!” Mabel exclaims.
Ford raises an eyebrow, but smiles at the pair as he takes a seat across from them. “Interrogation?”
“Yep!” Dipper grins. “We already know all of the heroic scientist stuff about you…”
“But we want to know the fun Grunkle stuff about you!” Mabel finishes his sentence for him. “You favorite ice cream flavor, your first kiss, the most illegal thing you’ve ever gotten away with…you know, just the basics!”
Ford blushes. “Well, I don’t know about that…”
“Aww, I’m sure it’s not that bad! Dipper’s first kiss was with a merman he had to give reverse CPR to!”
“Mabel!”  Dipper squeaks, his whole a dark shade of red. “That’s not fair! You know I didn’t have a choice!”
Ford can’t help the fond smile that spreads to his face. It’s moments like these that he’s going to miss the most. Sure, he’ll have anomalies, and treasure, and the whole world to explore, but he just knows that none of that is ever going to compare to time alone with the kids.
Once Stan gets the RV up and running, Ford knows there’s no going back. He and the kids swap childhood stories for hours, only pausing when Stan pulls off the side of the road to fuel up on gas and snacks. Dipper tells him of the time him and Mabel shaved their heads after a bully stuck gum in Mabel’s hair on photo day, and Ford tells them of the time that he and Stan swapped clothes on photo day just to see if they could get away with it. (They could, and Ford still has the yearbook where their photos are mislabeled as each other hidden away in his study to this day).
It’s eye opening, honestly. The young twins really are a mirror image to himself and Stan when they were kids.
“We’re here!” Stan grins, screeching the RV to a sudden halt. Upon looking out the window, the only thing Ford can see is a gift shop about the size of an outhouse and a ball of yarn about three sizes bigger than the RV.  Stan stands from the driver’s seat, stretching. “You think I overcharge for my tours, Sixer? This woman charges double the price of my admission just to take a picture of this fuzz ball” He reaches underneath the driver’s seat, pulling out a large hook attached to a thick rope. “We’re only doing her a favor by stealing it! Starting from scratch with a new attraction could do her some good”
“Hmm, I dunno” Dipper shrugs. “Don’t you think that doing the exact same prank on all of your competitors in the exact same order is just gonna result in them, I dunno, pranking you again in the exact same way?”
“Nonsense!” Stan brings his hand to his chest like Dipper had offended him. “The only reason they got away with it last time is because we left poindexter here home alone in the basement. There’ll be dozens of tour groups coming through the shack today with my past self taking care of the place for me.”  He taps at his forehead. “Besides, wasn’t this whole road trip your idea in the first place?” He smirks. “Are you telling me that your own idea is dumb?”
Dipper opens his mouth to argue back, realizes he has nothing, and pouts grumpily as he hops out of the RV. Stan cackles, and hops out of the RV after him. Ford rolls his eyes, and hops out after them to take a look at his surroundings. Stan really wasn’t kidding; everything really is contained to the one parking lot with nothing to show for it but the giant ball of yarn and a converted outhouse with tie-dye tee shirts hanging from its roof.
“Don’t just stand there gawking at it!” Stan slaps him on the shoulder, grinning. “Either help the kids out or talk the old woman’s ear off long enough to distract her” he gestures with a thumb towards Dipper and Mabel, giggling and poking at each other as they tie the rope end of the hook to the RV. As Mabel walks to attach the hook to the large yarn ball, she notices Ford watching her and waves hello.
“Hey Grunkle Ford!” she shouts. “If there’s enough left over from this mound after we drag it home, I’ll knit you a sweater with it!”
Ford laughs as he approaches to help her. “I’m counting on it.”
As it turns out, she wasn’t joking. As soon as they’ve all piled back into the RV to head to the next tourist trapped, Mabel already has her sewing needles in hand and a tangled ball of multicolored yarn sitting on the table in front of her. It’s amazing watching her work, clicking the needles together so quickly yet delicately, not missing a single fold. Ford’s never seen someone pour so much love into something so particular since the early days of his research.
Ford doesn’t want to interrupt her focus, so he turns to Dipper instead.
“How long has she been able to do that?”
Dipper glances at his sister beside him. “Oh, you mean sewing? Our grandma from our mom’s side of the family taught her when she was about six.” He rolls his eyes. “Our parents tried to buy her an electronic sewing machine for our eighth birthday, but she flat out rejected it because she insisted there wouldn’t be enough love in her creations if she didn’t make them by hand”
“It’s true!” Mabel exclaims, not looking up from her sewing job. “I’m not gonna sit around and let some machine do all the work for me! How are my friends and family supposed to know I made them their sweaters with love if I didn’t sew my blood and sweat into the threads myself?”
Ford hopes she’s being metaphorical, but the sentiment is still there. “So you’re telling me that every sweater you’ve worn this summer is homemade?”
“Yep!” she beams. “All the way down to the embroidery.” She holds up the skeleton of the sweater she’s working on into the light. “You’re real lucky, Grunkle Ford. This’ll be my first sweater I’ve ever made out of stolen materials!”
Her use of the term first rather than only makes Ford laugh.  The more time he spends with them, the less he wants to say goodbye to them. Stan must be the bravest man alive, being willing to send these kids home after three months with them, because if it were up to him he’d already be signing adoption papers to make them legally his.
“Stop two!” Stan yells from the front of the RV, and hops out as soon as they’re parked. Mabel places her work gently on the table, and follows Stan out without any effort. Dipper, on the other hand, takes one look out the window at where they’ve stopped and pales.
“Oh no”
Ford follows his gaze. It’s just a single story home turned on its head, absolutely nothing about it giving Ford the impression that there’s anything scary about it.
“What’s wrong?” Ford asks. “Do you get motion sickness? I learned quite a few tricks on how to deal with just the thing in the Spinning Top Dimension! You’re going to need a few things first, but I’m sure we’ll be able to find them around here somewhere-”
“N-no, it’s not that” Dipper cuts him off, face turning a dark shade of red. “The last time we were here I tried asking Grunkle Stan if he had any advice on how to talk to girls. And there was this one really cute girl, and we hit it off, but…” he rubs at his arm. “I acted like a total jerk. I treated her like she was just a number and I feel awful about it”
Ford frowns, getting down on one knee. “You’re not worried you’re going to run into her again, are you? This time loop should be stable enough to prevent her from showing up early”
Dipper’s gaze falls to the floor. “No, it’s more like…I’m so afraid of being myself that I feel like the only way I can fit in is to act like something I’m not. I just wish I could figure out a way to talk to girls without forcing myself to act like I’m better than them or something”
Ford smiles. “Dipper, I may not have any sound advice when it comes to girls,  but I’ve only known you for a number of weeks, and I think anyone would be lucky to have you. You’re kind and caring and so brilliant for your age” Dipper opens his mouth to protest, but Ford shakes his head. “Some of the most brilliant minds in the world suffered from anxiety and depression, my boy, and look where they are now. I have the upmost confidence that the same thing is bound to happen to you”.
Dipper’s eyes are big and wide, like he’s about to cry, but the waterworks never come. Dipper throws his arms around Ford’s neck in a hug, and Ford hugs him back. Once they pull away, they hop out of the van to join Stan and Mabel outside to prevent Stan from coming back in to yell at them. This stop is a bit less complicated, just a simple walkthrough to make sure there isn’t a hoard of tourists inside before running back out to tip the whole house right side up. It’s a lot of laughing from Stan and sprinting back to the van, and once they’re out of the parking lot and back on the highway it’s as if they never stopped at all. Mabel gets right back to working on her sweater, and Dipper gets right back to chatting up Ford for life stories.
A good portion of their stops go equally as smooth. The kids convince Ford to go on the log flume at Log Land with them which he absolutely does not throw up on, thank you very much, and Mabel nearly gets lost in a corn maze, but otherwise there’s nothing much of interest. Ford’s starting to suspect that Stan must be right, that the Mystery Shack really is the most interesting tourist trap in the entire state, until a giant mountain looms over the horizon.
“There she is,” Stan says, as if he could read his brother’s thoughts. “Her first year of opening I lost over half my usual revenue and I’ve sworn revenge on her ever since” He balls his hand into a fist and smacks the top of the steering wheel. “Our biggest mistake last time was getting too attached. I say this time we run in, grab as many mummies as we can get our hands on, and book it back to the shack before Darlene notices.”
“Don’t you mean that was your biggest mistake?” Dipper quips. “Besides, didn’t we find out last time that those mummies are real dead bodies?” He shivers. “I’m not sure how comfortable I’d feel about stealing them”
From the rearview mirror, Stan raises an eyebrow at Dipper. “What, you afraid their souls are gonna follow us home and haunt us? Work on your moral compass later, kid, this is about revenge” He adjusts the mirror. “Besides! What’s the chance we rescue someone who isn’t dead yet, just slowly suffocating in that nasty tasting web?”
Dipper opens his mouth to say one thing, pauses, and starts again. “Grunkle Stan, are you telling me you tried to eat the web you were trapped in?”
Stan shrugs. “Hey, I’m no stranger to chewing my way out of things. I’m just lucky I didn’t break any teeth on it, like I did with that car trunk”
As if that doesn’t raise more questions than it does answers, Stan drops the conversation entirely and doesn’t say another word until the RV pulls into the parking lot. Ford can’t even see the mountain peak when he hops out, it’s so obscured by fog that he knows wasn’t there ten minutes ago. Fog is the number one trap produced by anomalies to hunt their pray, so it’s no wonder this place gives Stan the creeps. Ford can’t even begin to imagine the size of the spider monsters the others described to him.
A shriek nearly escapes him at the feeling of something spindly crawling up his arm, but when he whips around he sees it’s just Stan running his fingers along his shoulder in a quick, scattered pattern. When he catches Ford’s eyes, he laughs so hard that tears pour down his cheeks.
“You should’ve seen the look on your face!” Stan wheezes. “You were all oh no, mister spider half the size of my hand, don’t eat me!” he cackles, wiping at his eyes with his wrist. “C’mon, time is money, and we don’t have any to waste” he gestures to the kids, already waiting at the information booth. “If we don’t hurry the kids are gonna get on the sky tram without us”
Ford raises an eyebrow. “You? On a sky tram?”
“Dipper didn’t tell you?” Stan’s raised eyebrow matches Ford’s. “Mabel helped me conquer my fear of heights! Now I’m untouchable!”
Seventeen years of the boardwalk and all the cotton candy as bribe in the world couldn’t fix Stan’s fear of heights. Dipper and Mabel really do continue to amaze him the more Stan tells him about them.
“Right,” Ford shakes his head, smiling fondly. “Of course.”
~~
It’s really no wonder this place boasts having the world’s slowest sky tram, because if it weren’t for the moving tree line Ford would almost think they weren’t moving at all. The bored expression on everyone else’s faces, a massive shift from the mischievous grins they’d been wearing before they got on has Ford choking down laughter. It’s about five minutes before there’s any sight of anything but tree bark, and the sun beaming directly into the glass car makes the whole thing feel like a sauna.
Still, it’s a dramatic shift in pace, and not one that Ford rejects. It’s really forcing him to slow down and think about his own feelings for once, a privilege he hasn’t had since he was in high school. Maybe it’s a little selfish of him to cherish the times he just gets to lose himself in his own head, rather than to spend so much of his time calculating plans to rescue others from danger, but-
“Whaddya think, poindexter?” Stan’s voice suddenly breaks through Ford’s thoughts, startling him.
Ford blushes. “What do I think of what?”
“The new plan!” Stan gestures to Dipper with his thumb. “Since this buzzkill is so against stealing ‘real dead bodies’,” he emphasizes with air quotes, “and since we probably couldn’t shove them all in this car anyway, we’re gonna go ahead with Plan B instead; Burning down Widow’s Peak!” Stan throws his hands in the air dramatically.
Dipper beams. “That way, they can’t make any more mummies for their mummy museum, and we might be able to save a few people from suffocating to death!” Stan and Dipper high five.
“It’s a brilliant plan, but…” Ford taps at his chin. “Where do you suppose we’re going to find the fire to burn it down?”
Stan cocks an eyebrow at him. “You tell me, mister ‘setting my face on fire is faster than shaving’. I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a lighter in your pocket right now. They have a bunch of prop torches in the caves, but if we pop the lightbulbs out of them and light them they should work good as usual” Stan’s mischievous grin is back on his face, a perfect reflection of when he was thirteen and pickpocketing a dollar from people’s wallets on the boardwalk to buy a box of saltwater taffy.
Turns out, it’s just as contagious now as it was back then. Ford reaches into the front pocket of his trench coat, and sure enough, comes up with a lighter. Stan erupts in laughter at the sight of it, and soon enough the entire car is infected with it. The rest of the ride up the mountain is much bubblier after that, with everyone swapping overdramatic stories of how the plan is going to go.
~~
Widow’s Peak is much bigger than Ford was expecting. It’s a whole cave that looks like it stretches for miles, and there really are rotting skeletons hanging upside down from the cave walls and ceilings.
Ford shudders.
“Aww, c’mon, Sixer! I know for a fact this isn’t half as bad as the stuff in your journals” Stan jabs at his shoulder with his unlit torch. “Besides, didn’t you say in your own journal that most ghosts come from their old bodies not having a proper burial? He gestures at a skeleton hanging upside down from the ceiling, its left hand barely hanging on by a thread. “You think any of these guys look like their spirits were able to move on peacefully, or however it goes?” Stan shakes his head matter of-factly. “You really want some poor unsuspecting tourist to bump into a hoard of angry ghosts? Tsk tsk”
“Alright, alright” Ford raises his hands in self-defense. “I suppose you’re right”. He takes his lighter out of his pocket and tosses it to Stan. Stan lights up his own torch, helps Dipper and Mabel with theirs, and then he turns back to help light Ford’s.
“Alright,” Stan rubs his hands together the best he can with a lit torch tucked under his arms. “Everyone knows the plan. Burn as many mummies as you can find, rescue the poor suckers who are still alive, and signal if you hear Darlene coming. Since I don’t trust Sixer over here not to try and interview her and get himself in trouble again, I say I’m in charge of lookout duty.” He adjusts his collar and flattens down the wrinkles of his suits with a quick pat down. “I flirt with her just long enough to distract her, I throw my torch in her face, and then we book it out of here as fast as our legs can carry us”
Dipper still doesn’t look convinced. “I don’t know, isn’t that exactly how you got yourself tangled up in a web last time?”
“Oh please,” Stan scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. “The only reason that worked last time is ‘cause she cornered me when we were alone. Besides, where’s she gonna take me if she catches me that you can’t just throw a torch and rescue me five minutes after it happens?”
Dipper’s face darkens. “True,” he mumbles under his breath, which makes Stan laugh. Stan slaps him on the shoulder, and Dipper glares at him, but there doesn’t seem to be any malice in it.
It’s one final glance between the four of them, and they’re all running off in different directions of the cave. It’s not long before the stench of burning silk fills the air, mixed with the stench of something Ford doesn’t want to think too much about. The webs burn relatively quickly, and together they burn through half of the cave in a much faster time than Ford would’ve expected. He’s about to light up one that looks like it was left here fairly recently, until something inside it starts wiggling.  Startled, Ford steps backwards until his back hits the cave wall, a soft oof escaping him.
“S’matter, poindexter?” Stan looks up from the fire he’s stomping out with his foot. “You see a widdle baby spider that freaked you out?”
Ford tries to glare at him, but the fear stabbing him in the chest doesn’t let it stick. He swallows hard, and points towards the wiggling cocoon with his torch.
“I think we have a live one” he whispers, stepping to stand beside Stan. Once Stan follows Ford’s torch with his eyes, something inside him tenses up.
“Ah, wh-what’d I tell you?” Stan’s voice shakes. “It’s probably just some poor sucker who fell for Darlene’s charms. Definitely not a gross sack of baby spider people or anything”
“R-right,” Ford swallows hard, and inches back towards the cocoon, rapidly waving his torch back and forth to potentially scare off whatever could be inside trying to break out.  But the longer he waves the torch in front of the web, the more he can make out the silhouette of a regular human being.
Throwing all caution to the wind, Ford rushes forward and begins tearing at the web with his bare hands, just enough so that the man is free from the chest up. He takes large gasps of air, and upon realizing that his hands are free he begins tearing at the web himself.  Once his feet are free and hit the ground, he takes one look at the Pines family, mumbles a startled thank you, and runs for his life out of the cave.
After that, the rest of the burnings go pretty smoothly. There’s significantly less living tourists in the cave than Ford would’ve expected from such a large tourist trap, and Ford’s not entirely sure whether he should find that reassuring or downright terrifying.  He’s almost surprised everything went so well, until the four of them nearly collide with a woman on their way out of the cave.
She looks just as baffled to see them as Ford feels to see her.
“Can I…help you?” She asks in a thick Jersey-esque accent. The name tag pinned to her shirt reads DARLENE in large brick letters.
“No!” Dipper cuts in before neither Ford nor Stan can respond to her. He clears his throat. “I mean, uh, no. Uh, apologies if this is a restricted area, but we got lost trying to find our way back to the sky tram” he shrugs overdramatically, no doubt in attempt to show Darlene that his hands are empty. She squints at him, and for a moment Ford could swear he just saw her blink horizontally. The silence that follows, though it probably doesn’t last for more than a few seconds, feels like it drags on for ages.
Suddenly, she’s donning an overly sweet smile. “Well, why didn’t you just say so? Let me walk you back. We’ve gotten more than our fair share of tourists who’ve gone missing from wandering too far into our caves, and I’d hate to have that happen to such a nice looking family like yours” She grins, flashing her unusually sharp teeth.  The four of them stay quiet until they’re all packed into their tram car, and Darlene is waving sweetly at them from behind.
They each collectively sigh. “Woof, that was a close one” Stan says, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his wrist. In a sudden shift of mood, he reaches over next to him and pulls Dipper into a headlock. “How’s about it for this guy’s quick thinking, huh?” he grins, and the four of them laugh until they hear a horrifying screech that makes their tram car rumble. They turn, and see Darlene emerging from the cave, the bottom half of her body replaced by that of a giant spider.
“My food!” she screams, shaking her first at the tram cars. “You burned all my food! Mark my words, I may not have gotten your names but I don’t forget faces very easily, you hear? If you ever show your face here again you’re dead meat!” She screams, yanking on her hair to reveal the rest of her spider-like body under her human disguise.
Stan simply cackles. “Yeah, we’ll see about that!” he mocks, knowing well enough that she can’t hear them from inside the car. He turns his attention back to the rest of the family. “Maybe we should go and warn our past selves to bring bug spray!” He exclaims, laughing himself to near tears.
Ford only rolls his eyes, but can’t help the smile on his face.
If only he’d known what he’d be missing when he turned down Stan’s offer to take this road trip with him and the kids the first time around.
The tram ride back to the parking lot is even more relaxing than the ride up. The sun is setting this time around, and even if the wind can’t really reach inside the car the whole thing just feels cooler. Most of all, he finds that the sound of the Stan and the kids’ laughter is far more welcome than any old conversation he could have in his own head.
When everyone piles back into the RV, they do not drive away immediately like they had at all the other stops. Instead, Stan turns around to face the three of them. “Well, that’s the end of that. That’s all I had planned, and we still have…” he pauses to count on his finger. “Two more months ‘til the kids have to go back home, technically. I’m all out of ideas, and I’m sure the kids have seen enough of the Gravity Falls weirdness for one summer”
He smiles to the kids, who nod and in turn smile at Ford.
“So where do you want to go now, Grunkle Ford?” Mabel says, with stars shining in her eyes. The grin spreading on Dipper’s face matches hers like two peas in a pod.
“Any place in the world. Wherever you want to go…” He pulls the time tape out of his pocket. “…For however long you want”
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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years ago
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heiress - 6
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
a/n: i am really excited writing this lately and it’s totally not me avoiding to actually write any uni work. 
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    - I think you need to make a choice, dear. - she cocked her head to the side, her own expression muffling the sound of Wanda’s voice cutting through the woods. 
She took a step backwards, unsure. She didn’t remember the time she was allowed such a choice. Her father had forced her into HYDRA’s hands before she could even speak, Bucky had forced her out of the Red Room and Hayward had forced her into SWORD. Looking back, she couldn’t find a single instance where she had been allowed her own agency. She was always dormant, carefully nodding, afraid HYDRA would come and take her back. She had been thrown into a cell during the Civil War’s events by her own agency and kept locked during the Thanos’ situation. The only time she had willingly stepped back was out of fear in Washington. Seeing her father handle the man she loved as if she were a mindless robot had thrown her into the same pit of fear she had always been kept into. It still haunted her to this day, she could still hear the television’s reporter voice as she explained what had happened. Once again, she was taking a step back. - Oh for heaven’s sake.
Agatha rose her hand  in the hand, twirling it as the darkness became sickening light and the woods turned into walls of places of sad occasions whose name and place she preferred not to remember. The ambience was sickly in dark and light green tinges with rusty bars. She did not want to remember it but she did and turning around she was face to face with one of the only happiest memories she had which overtime had became bittersweet. The music was low and muffled, coming from down the hall  were the staff was holding a meeting but it was well heard enough in the soldier’s cell, they could dance. And they did. She could see him and her past self in front off her, her head leaning on top the leather of his bodice, slightly tilted up so she could look him in the eyes, his flesh hand wrapped around hers as they moved side to side. She watched that scene with a sad look, feeling a lump in her throat become bigger and bigger.
   - Ain’t that sweet? - Agatha stood behind her. - So tell me exactly what’s taking you so long to take my help? Isn’t that what you want?
   - Yes. - she mumbled, almost hypnotised by the scene. - But it’s gone, it’s the past.
   - But that’s the thing, my little traumatised girl, it doesn’t need to be. Not for people like you, like us. 
   - No. Past is past and I can’t return to it ... - she moved away from that scene, turning to look at Agatha. - No matter how sad it makes me. 
   - No, dear, that’s not how it works for you.  - she twirled her hand again and the darkness returned but it wasn’t how it was in the woods. No, this was a large dark room barely light as if a flickering spotlight hovered them. She took steps forward, trying to read her situation only to find a pile of lifeless bodies of everyone she had ever known. She took a step back, hand covering her own muffled cry as everyone she had ever knew laid lifelessly around her. - You see, you’re not an element manipulator, that is a gross understatement of what you do and you should have the people who told you that burned at the stake. No, you have the particular talent of controlling matter ... creation magic. Not just in your own particular universe like Wanda but in every universe. It’s permanent, everything you do, doesn’t need a little dome protecting it. It’s powerful magic however when unbalanced, untrained, uncontrolled it becomes destruction magic which is why my dear you can make things disappear. You just make them cease to exist. 
   - The guards ...
   - Ceased to exist. - she interrupted her. - Of course you can bring it back like you did back at the Red Room but it takes time and control. You, of all people, have no control over it and whatever control you have breaks loose whenever Barnes just strolls around. It’s not very feminist of you. 
   - Y/N! - Wanda’s voice got louder.
   - This ... - Agatha pointed out every dead body surrounding her. -  Is what happens with uncontrolled creation magic. Wanda can’t help you, she’s chaos magic, your foil. I can, I can help you. I can take this burden away from you. Something you didn’t even want in the first place.
   - Y/N! - Wanda’s voice mixed with the sounds of her own thoughts until it broke through Agatha’s illusion. She looked at her feet, no longer surrounded by the corpses of those she loved yet Agatha was still standing in front of her, a sly smile on her face as if she knew her future. 
   - That’s what the future holds for you if you don’t learn to control it. You’re destruction so far, pure, unaltered, cruel destruction. Fitting considering your choice of lover.
   - WANDA! - Y/N replied back turning on Agatha as if she had been woken up from a bad dream. Agatha mumbled to herself before disappearing into the darkness of the night as Y/N searched for the Scarlet Witch. It didn’t take long for her to find her, noticing the look of pure worry in her eyes just like the time when her children were in danger. - Wanda, I ...
   - WHAT THE FUCK, Y/N? Don’t you do this to me EVER AGAIN. - she dropped her hands, eyes returning to her regular hue. - If you weren’t my age, I would have grounded you. 
   - I’m younger than you Wanda. - she sighed, small smile on her face. - I just thought I saw ... something.
   - What something? - they walked together through the hex. Watching the dome like safe haven they had created, Y/N didn’t find it in herself to tell her. Maybe Hayward was right, maybe the daughter of a villain only had promises of becoming a villain herself. Yet again, she had seen it. She had seen what being around them could lead to and that image was tattooed on her brain no matter how much she tried to throw it to Agatha trying to manipulate her. - Y/N? 
   - I thought I saw Agatha. - she said, stepping just a behind the border of the hex. 
   - Did you see her? Did she spoke to you?
   - No. - she said, almost robotically like as the Scarlet Witch allowed the hex to open for them to enter. Instead of finding Bucky on the swings, Vision was sat there, awaiting both of them to arrive. 
Before any of them could speak, Y/N took to leaving the couple, walking straight towards the door of her own bedroom and locking it on her way in. She  leaned against her door, letting herself slide until she hit the ground, hands cupping her head as she told herself not to cry. There was no use in crying about it, the only use was to make a decision; however, she would be damned if she allowed anyone to have agency over her again. No, she wasn’t her father’s daughter, she wasn’t HYDRA’s failed experiment, Hayward’s project or the Winter Soldier’s lover. No, she wasn’t just one. She was a tweaked amalgamation of everything people had told her she was and now that identity was shrouded in fear. Fear of what she was capable of, of what she had made to me. Somehow, things felt simpler before she had any answers. 
  - Y/N? 
  - Gosh. - she put her hand over her chest as Vision passed through her wall as if it weren’t concrete. - The door is closed, Vision. It is not an invitation to pass through my wall. 
  - I am terribly sorry about that but Wanda is worried. - he sat next to her. - And since you are the godmother of my children, I do consider you part of my family.
   - Are you here to give me a philosophy lesson, Vision?
   - It is not my place to tell you what to do. You’ve done well enough for yourself over the years. 
   - Your intelligence is much more mathematical than mine.  I actually have a question for you.
   - Please do not ask me again what is the meaning of life. - Y/N laughed at his worried voice, shaking her head no.
   - Do you believe creation and destruction can live together? Balanced?
   - Well, I don’t think one can live without each other. Humans are born and then they die, creation and destruction. Nature is filled with it, it’s almost based on it. I mean, isn’t love creation and destruction? Heartbreak and emotion.
   - Destruction is overwhelming. -  she leaned her head against  the door, looking up at the ceiling. - It’s merely a downfall. 
    - Maybe you should chose a different philosophy question.
    - I don’t think I can. - she mumbled to herself before turning her face to the synthezoid. -  You should probably return to Wanda. She hates sleeping alone. 
He gave her a sympathetic look only to leave her standing in the middle of her room surrounded by her own insecurities which always clawed at her during the evenings. Raising her hand and seeing the familiar white glow everything felt much more scary to her. She had been better off thinking she could control the elements rather than matter itself. Yet part of her scoffed at HYDRA for not being able to figure it out soon enough. Still, it was not natural, not for her. She was a hand to hand combat trained fighter, barely using that which lied straight at her surface. Agatha was right, she couldn’t control it. She knew she couldn’t and whatever power she had around it was fickle. Too fickle. 
It was best to forget and move ahead. Have a cup of tea, it will make you feel better, Monica would tell her whenever someone particularly got on her nerves while at SWORD and right now it sounded like the best idea. However, opening her tea box, there was nothing but dust. She sighed, removing her boots and grabbing her nightgown before unlocking the door and walking towards the kitchen. Finding the kitchen, she also found the same person who seemed to hover over her thoughts, putting the kettle on top the hob.
   - It’s an electrical kettle. - she said, sly smirk as she turned on the hob before Bucky could destroy Wanda’s precious kettle. - It doesn’t go on the hob.
    - Oh ... - he felt stupid not knowing that yet he felt even more speechless in front of her as she put the kettle on the base and turned it on. - Less fire prone?
    - Oh no, Billy has set it almost on fire several times. - silence installed between the two as they tried to find something to say which sounded organic and not just forced.
    - Night cravings? 
    - I guess you could call it that. You?
    - Can’t sleep. 
    - Sam annoying you? We could always put you two on different rooms. 
    - Just nightmares, really. - he stood by her side, watching the water boil on the glass kettle. - Did I use to have them ... back then?
    - It depended. - she sighed. - Most of the times, yes. I’ve been having them too lately so I have resorted to not sleeping. 
   - That’s not very functional, is it doll?
   - I wouldn’t really use functional as a way to describe myself. - she looked at him, mostly wanting to lighten the mood yet it only seemed to harden his expression. - No one in my direct family is very functional either. 
    - You are not your father. You know that, right? - his hand lingered over her wrist as her torso moved to stand in front against his. His hand found her, fingers intertwining as if it was second nature to him. - I figured you would’ve found that out over all this time.
    - Do you think I could become like him? - she looked at her own feet. - Evil is not born, evil is made. Do you think I could become like him ... a villain?
    - No. - he shook his head as if her words were mere ramblings of a crazy person. - I’d bet my own life on it. 
    - There’s a way ... there’s someone who keeps offering me the opportunity to be normal. Not have whatever it is I have, just ordinary civilian life in a regular town surrounded by regular people. 
   - Y/N, the last thing you will ever be is ordinary. Nothing about you or me for that matter is ordinary. You can’t pursue an ordinary life ... you can pursue something that makes you happy. 
   - What if what makes me happy is being ordinary?
   - I spent most the last year wanting to ordinary, Y/N. I was not happy, I was just going through the motions and now ... well I found peace in the unpredictable, no matter how much I cannot control it.
    - Are you happy now? - she looked into his eyes, an honest and truly scary question. One that she could barely answer if it were her. 
     - You always made me happy. - her hands left the marbled kitchen stone so she could wrap her arms around him, head leaned against the soft fabric of his jumper. He sighed, kissing the top of her head, as his hand caressed her back, the other one keeping her flushed to him. Y/N slowly raised her head to look at him, watching his eyes reflect the moon light like they always did. Some things  never change. Bucky hand climbed from her back to cup her face, allowing her skin to sink into his roughed hand which probably had more cuts than it should. She looked at him like no one else did and she had seen it all. Heck, she’d seen things Bucky wished she would’ve never seen but she still looked at him like any other woman looked at their cared ones. 
    - It hurts every single day. - she mumbled, almost ashamed to admit to the man who had been through the most that it was starting to become hard to get up every time she fell down. - Everyone says they can help me but I feel like I’m being constantly knocked down and I’m just so tired. I’m so tired of always getting up, it hurts so much and for once I just want to lay down. 
    - It’s okay. - his finger caressed her cheek, metal arm still rubbing up and down her back. Bucky never liked to touch his face with his metal hand, he refused. - You don’t have to get up every single time and if you can’t there’s so many people here who’d give you a helping hand. You’re not alone, Y/N.
    - Yes, I am. - she bite the inside of her lip. - I’ve seen it and it’s only a matter of time before I hurt everyone. 
    - You’re not gonna hurt anyone, Y/N. 
    - It’s not my choice. - she took a step forward away from him. - It was decided for me.
    - Whatever you do ... - Bucky scratched his neck, trying to compose himself, his own words running through his mind as he wondered if he had done something wrong. - I’ll stand by your side. 
    - I ... I should probably get going. 
    - Me too, Sam might woke up and think I tried to escape ... again.
    - See you tomorrow, Bucky. - she spoke as he took initiative to leave first, wondering if he had done something to make her upset, said something wrong. 
Y/N waited for him to be far off before she took further and further into the building. It was always dark there and not a lot of people were allowed in that particular area of their own base. Wanda herself had stuffed some particular nasty things in that area as well as some of SHIELDs and SWORDs experimentation notes. Only some people could get in and she was one of those people. Despite this she twirled her hand, opening the door without using a card. The darkness only seemed to intensify, as she got closer and closer to it, the room only barely light by the almost scary aura. The room where Wanda Maximoff had stored the Darkhold.
taglist: @lookiamtrying @austynparksandpizza​
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mamabearcatfanfics · 4 years ago
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Dani updates something. The world must be truly coming to an end. Read below or here on AO3
Like most great wars, it was started by something small.
Kagome picked up her laptop from where it had been sitting on the coffee table and carried it into her bedroom, rubbing her eyes tiredly. Perhaps it hadn’t been a good idea to invite Inuyasha over for movie and pizza, but when she’d texted him earlier in the day and heard about his crap day at work, she’d extended an impromptu invite. Sango hadn’t minded, and it had been fun, even if he did spend most of the night using her laptop to debunk theories in the spy thriller they’d watched.
When he’d first arrived, he’d been his usual grumpy self, but by the end of the movie, he was in an excellent mood. It was nice to see him happy, although she wasn’t exactly sure what had caused the change in attitude. The pizza had probably helped. She’d never seen anyone consume pizza like Inuyasha could. It worried her sometimes, the types of food he ate, even though he argued that an inuhanyou’s metabolism was very different to a human’s and you couldn’t compare the two.
Anyway, it didn’t matter. If her friend was happy, then so was she. He had such a nice smile, and she tried to do her best to help it come out at every opportunity. They were just friends, she knew that, but his smile was just… it gave her butterflies.
Calling out a sleepy goodnight to Sango, she wandered into her bedroom yawning, wishing she could flop straight onto the bed and close her eyes. But unfortunately, she still had the proposed media releases for the Starlight Foundation’s upcoming fundraiser event to read through before a breakfast meeting tomorrow. She knew if she’d stayed to go over them at work she’d have to walk home from the train station in the dark, so she’d emailed them to her personal laptop before she’d left for the day.
Slipping into her comfy pj’s and snuggling under the covers, she opened up her laptop, then blinked slowly, her head tilting slightly as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.
Everything was upside down.
Her whole screen was the opposite of how it should look. She exited out of her email program, noting with apprehension that her desktop was also upside down, then opened it up again. Still upside down. Crap! Was this a virus? She’d let the virus protection on her laptop lapse because she’d had to buy a new dress to wear to the fundraising ball, and she’d seen the perfect dress and there’d been a sale, and she had to get the extra money from somewhere. What if it the virus somehow got back to her work computer? Shit, shit, shit!
Quickly googling ‘everything on my computer screen is upside down’, and tilting the screen and her head so she could read the upside down words, she breathed a sigh of relief when she worked out it was an easy fix. Using the Ctrl, Alt and arrow keys she quickly set it to rights, sending up a silent thank you prayer to the IT gods, with a promise that she would update her virus protection asap. She wasn’t sure how her screen had got that way, but right now she was too tired to care.
The next evening, when she sat down with Sango to watch the latest episode of Masterchef, the tv remote refused to work. With their cider going warm and the avocado dip congealing on the cheese platter they’d prepared, they both tried to get the remote to work, giving it a tap and shake to no avail.
After repeated attempts at removing the batteries and rotating them, while Sango went through the junk drawer in the kitchen in a fruitless search for new batteries, Kagome finally noticed the tiny scrap of black tape over the sensor on the remote.
She removed it, and the remote worked again. She looked suspiciously at Sango, narrowing her eyes. She smelled a prank. But Sango loved watching Masterchef as much as she did, and was complaining bitterly about them missing a souffle failure. Masterchef was one of the highlights of their week. Nope, it wasn’t Sango. But someone was definitely having fun at their expense.
Two nights later, when she bit into an Oreo from her secret treat stash in her bedside drawer, and found the sweet creamy filling had been replaced with toothpaste, she knew there was a prank war going on. And as far as she knew, there was only one person who knew about her secret stash, because he’d busted her one night stuffing her face when he’d popped his head in her room to say good night.
Inuyasha.
He’d had time to do all these things on their movie night. He’d used her laptop. He’d had access to the remote. And now that she thought about it, there’d been that suspicious amount of time he’d spent in the bathroom, which neither of them had questioned because he’d muttered a warning about steering clear of the bathroom for a while to give the air a chance to clear. But that would have enabled him access to both the bathroom and her bedroom while her and Sango were engrossed in the movie. No wonder he’d been so cheerful that evening when he left. Inuyasha had pranked her.
But what he didn’t know, was that Kagome was a seasoned campaigner when it came to prank wars. Her and Souta had it down to a fine art, coming up with bigger and better pranks all the time, to the point that one year her mother hand banned them totally, because things were getting out of hand.
The corners of her mouth turned up in a sinister smile, and she let out a chuckle worthy of a cartoon villain. Alright. If he wanted a war, he’d get one.
It was on, like Donkey Kong.
Inuyasha sighed moodily. It wasn’t that he disliked his job necessarily, it was just a job, and it paid the bills, and gave him enough time off to do all the other things he enjoyed doing. But on days like today, when the shop was empty as a tomb, and his phone battery had gone flat, he was ready to expire from boredom. He was just toying with the idea of using a charging cable from the one’s in stock, when a familiar scent drifted across his senses as the shop bell rang.
“How’s my favourite hanyou doing?” Kagome grinned, watching his ears perk up as she walked in.
“I’m fucking bored to tears”, he said, standing up from where he’d been slumped against the counter. He glanced at the clock on the wall, then looked back at her with concern. “Hey. Aren’t you home from work a little early? You’re not sick are ya?”
“No, no, I’m going to work from home this afternoon, seeing I’ve been going into the office so early this week”, Kagome answered breezily. “I just popped in to bring you something.”
“Huh?”
“I tried out a new recipe for chocolate chip cookies, and I know how much you like them, so I saved some for you. That should make your afternoon more interesting.”
Inuyasha sniffed the tupperware container she handed over appreciatively. Kagome was a good cook, and even though the plastic blocked most of the smell, he could tell they would be tasty, because everything Kagome made was delicious. And chocolate chip cookies were his favourites. Fucking sweet!
“Thanks Kagome! You’re the best, you know that?”
His conscience twitched slightly as he thought about the toothpaste oreo’s he’d hidden in her drawer. He’d had a crap day that day, and playing those little pranks on her had cheered him up immensely. He’d often played pranks on his half brother Sesshoumaru back when he’d come to visit Dad during school holidays, to see if he could budge the stick that the older youkai seemed to have permanently wedged up his arse. The oreo trick had been one of his favourites. But here she was baking for him. Maybe she hadn’t found them yet. Perhaps he could replace them with a whole new packet before she ate one, seeing she’d bought him these. He grinned at her.
“You wanna stay and eat some with me Kittycat?”
“I’m afraid I can’t”, Kagome said with a sorrowful expression. “Lots to do. But I’m sure you’ll enjoy them!” With a cheery wave, she walked out of the door.
Inuyasha smiled, looking down at the container in his hands. She’d put a post it note on the lid, with ‘For Inuyasha’ written in curly swoopy cursive. She was a good friend, had fit into his life so completely that he didn’t know what he’d do if she suddenly disappeared. He was so glad he’d helped her that day she’d walked in to the shop with her bad cold.
Taking off the lid and not even pausing to take a sniff, he picked up one of the delectable looking cookies and stuffed the whole thing in his mouth, chewing appreciatively, until a distinctive taste hit his tongue. He nearly spat the contents of his mouth out on the floor, but ended up swallowing the mouthful with distaste, knowing he’d be the one that would have to clean up the mess. Those weren’t chocolate chips…
 Fucking raisins!
The wench knew he hated them. What the fuck? Who would replace innocent chocolate chips with fucking raisins, the worlds most vile dried fruit – that was… was evil!
The post-it note fluttered off the lid, and he noticed a smiley face drawn on the back with some more of Kagome’s swirling cursive.
 ‘That’s payback for the Oreos dog boy!  ❤ K.’
He snorted, about to tip the cookies in the bin, then deciding to put them aside to give to Myoga. The old man had taste in his arse, he’d probably love them, especially if he told him Kagome made them. But Kagome. What was he going to do about sweet little innocent Kagome? It looked like he’d finally found a worthy adversary.
It had been two weeks since she’d given Inuyasha the cookies, and there had been no retaliation. She sniggered, remembering his face when she’d asked him how he’d liked his cookies – the rolled eyes, the huff of irritation. Sweet manna to her soul. But then he hadn’t done anything about it. Frankly Kagome was a little disappointed. It was a shame, because she’d really enjoyed baking the biscuits for him and imagining his face when he bit into one, but she guessed that not everyone liked pranks. The Oreo incident had probably been a one off.
She flicked on the lamp next to the sofa, ready to sit down and enjoy her book and her cocoa with the last of the tiny little marshmallows, and shrieked, slopping the hot liquid down her pyjama shirt. Sango came running.
“Kagome, are you okay?!”
“Cockroach!”, she shrieked, pointing at the lamp, ready to hurl her book at it. The shadow of the insect was clearly visible on the inside of the lamp shade. “Quick Sango, get the bug spray!”
“On it!” Sango hollered, running into the kitchen, clearly ready to unload half the can on the offending interloper. Kagome kept her eye locked on the insect, wanting to be ready in case it flew towards her, holding up her book like a shield. The insect was still. Very still. So still in fact she bravely moved closer to take a better look.
She pulled the cut out picture of a giant cockroach from the inside of the lamp and held it up for Sango’s inspection as she approached with a jumbo sized can of spray. Sango looked incredulously at the paper insect, and then back at Kagome, who was looking at the cut out with a strange expression of glee.
“Inuyasha?” asked Sango hesitantly, unsure exactly what was going on, but making an informed guess.
“Yup!” replied Kagome happily, popping the ‘p’ with relish. Looked like Inuyasha was playing a long game. She could do that.
They were strolling along the High Line, or rather Kagome was strolling, and Inuyasha was following along reluctantly. It was only the promise of beer and a burger at the end of this outing that had made him go along.
“Isn’t it lovely here?”
“Kagome, it’s a bridge. With plants on it. And tourists.”
“But it’s so nice! Isn’t it amazing? All these green things growing in the middle of the city.” She twirled around with her arms out wide, nearly taking out some backpackers, then grabbed his hand, dragging him over to a small garden filled with purple daisies.
“Can we take a selfie here together? Please?” She pulled her phone out of her pocket, and then pouted dramatically. “Aw, I’m all out of battery.”
She looked up at Inuyasha and gave him a sweet smile, and he rolled his eyes, shoving his hand in his jeans pocket to pluck out his phone.
“Fine, use mine”, he drawled, unlocking his phone and handing it over to her. “But don’t go filling it up with cutesy photos, alright?” He didn’t mind really though. Kagome was always taking photos of them together on her phone, and he didn’t have any on his. It might be nice to have at least one of them together.
Kagome smiled up at him, and they did the usual shuffle so they would both fit in the confines of the screen – her standing on tiptoes, and him curving his body downwards.
“Say cheese!”
He grinned automatically, his lopsided smile revealing one fang, his cheek resting on the top of Kagome’s head. She’d told him she was using a new shampoo, one that didn’t smell quite as much, after reading up on different scents that bothered youkai, and he appreciated the fact that she’d done something like that for him. He sighed, breathing in her sweet smell, which blocked out the usual stench of the city.
“Thank you” said Kagome softly, mindful of how close she was to his ears. She kissed his cheek gently, and he couldn’t help the sappy grin that crossed his face. “I’m just gonna message the photo to my phone, okay? That way we’ve both got a copy.”
“Uh sure.”
He straightened up, feeling his heart beating a little faster for some reason. He obviously needed to get to the gym more often if walking along a bridge and dodging tourists got his heart rate up.
She handed him back his phone and then tugged on his hand. He slipped his phone back into his pocket.
“C’mon! I promised I’d buy you a beer and a burger. There’s a pub just under the bridge that’s meant to be awesome. I was reading reviews about it last night.”
He smiled fondly at her, taking in her wide grin and the spring sunshine bouncing off her dark hair. Such a bubbly person. He honestly didn’t know what Kagome saw in him. But he was very glad that she liked hanging out.
He had such a fun afternoon talking, laughing, eating, then walking her back to her apartment, that he realised he’d never looked at the photo she’d taken. He pulled his phone from his pocket and unlocked it, then snorted when he looked at his screen. He didn’t know how she’d done it, but somehow, she’d changed every single app icon to different pictures of kittens. Nice one. His lips curled into a smile, already planning on what he could do to get her back.
He flicked open his photo app and stared at the photo of them together, standing in the sunlight surrounded by purple daisies in the middle of a bustling city, the wind blowing their hair so the white and black intermingled. He saved it as his lock screen.
Kagome hated dusting. But she loved knick nacks, so dusting was a necessity. She just couldn’t bear to throw things away, and kept all sorts of little mementoes that wouldn’t mean anything to other people, but meant a lot to her. Spraying a little bit more polish on the rag, she ran it over the shelves of the bookcase in the hallway, picking up a photo frame absentmindedly so she could dust underneath. And then she double blinked.
Taking a closer look at the photo, she snorted with laughter. It was a photo of the four of them, one someone had taken when they’d won the pub trivia championship.
She didn’t know how he’d done it, or when, but somehow Inuyasha had used a photo editing program to replace all their faces, hers, Sango’s, Miroku’s and his own, with the features of Nicholas Cage. Not entirely original, but funny all the same.
She turned the frame over to find the original photo stuck to the back. Miroku had his arm carelessly around Sango’s shoulders and Sango was blushing – no doubt Miroku had just whispered something perverted in her ear.
She was standing next to Sango, and Inuyasha was standing directly behind her, bending down so his chin rested on the top of her head. It made her smile, the way he draped himself on her for photos – it was often the only way they both fit, because he was so much taller than her.
He was so amazing, he took her breath away sometimes, just like he had that first time in the store. It was like he didn’t know how beautiful he was. She turned the photo around again, giggling at how ridiculous they all looked. She had to hand it to him, that was tricky. Time to up her game.
Inuyasha was pulling his boots on when there was a knock on his front door, but it was expected. He’d ordered a box of Krispy Kreme’s to bring to Miroku’s regular card night, and it had arrived right on time. Salted Double Caramel Crunch. He always ordered a box, knowing the girls liked them, and having a not so secret love of them himself. Kagome was always at him to eat healthier, worried about all the salty and sugary foods he enjoyed eating, but he was half youkai – his metabolism could handle nearly anything.
Carrying the box carefully, he walked the two blocks to Miroku’s house, a tiny bit late because he’d had to wait for the delivery, but it wasn’t like anyone would care. They were already there, Miroku shuffling the cards, Sango sipping a beer, and Kagome sitting on the sofa, her eyes lighting up when he walked in the door. Sometimes she was so fucking cute, he couldn’t stand it.
He plonked the box down on the centre of the table, and walked across to Miroku’s fridge, opening the door to snag himself a beer.
Sango opened the box eagerly, and then laughed uproariously.
“Are you on a health kick Inuyasha?” she sniggered.
“Huh?”
Opening up the sides of the box, she revealed carrot, celery and cucumber sticks, along with a plastic container of hummus.
“What the fuck?!”
Kagome came to stand behind him. “Oh, good boy! You finally listened to me about eating healthier foods. You’re gonna feel so much better!” she said, patting him on the shoulder.
Inuyasha turned his head, raising an eyebrow.
“Really Kagome? Kidnapping innocent donuts?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about”, Kagome said, her expression all wide eyed and innocent. “Bu-ut if you wanted a donut as a little treat for being a good boy, after you’ve eaten some healthy veggies of course, there’s a plate of Salted Double Caramel Crunch ones in the kitchen. I know they’re your favourites.”
Kagome was tired. So tired. It had been a hectic week at work in the lead up to the fundraising ball, and all she wanted to do was curl up on the sofa with a nice cup of sleepy tea before heading off to bed. She opened the cupboard to reach in for her favourite mug, but her hand clutched on empty air.
Huffing impatiently, she stood up on tiptoe, unable to quite see onto the shelf. Sango was taller than her, and sometimes she pushed the mugs back too far in the cupboard for her to reach. But her hand still grasped at nothing. Were they all in the dishwasher?
She opened up the dishwasher, but it was empty. Sighing impatiently, she went into the hall cupboard to fetch the little step stool she used to reach the higher shelves, but it wasn’t there. Or in the bathroom.
Smelling a rat, or rather a dog, she walked slowly back into the kitchen, her eyes roving around for anything amiss. And then she noticed them. Every single mug, cup and glass was placed on top of the cupboards, way out of her reach. Kagome frowned.
This… this one hurt a little. Inuyasha knew she was sensitive about her height. At 5’2” she was the shortest person in her family, with even Souta towering over her now, and her height was a family joke.
When they first met, Inuyasha used to tease her about it all the time too, but he didn’t any more, knowing that it upset her. The only thing that had stuck was her nickname, Kittycat, which she didn’t mind so much, she kind of liked the way he said it. But…
She sighed, climbing up onto the bench top and balancing on her tippy toes, one arm stretched up to reach for a mug, the other windmilling frantically as she almost lost her balance. This game. It didn’t feel quite as much fun anymore.
Inuyasha sipped his beer silently, sitting alone in their regular booth at the pub. Miroku had tried to engage him in conversation, but had eventually given up when every answer was a surly one syllable reply, and had gone over to the pool table to join a game.
They were waiting for the girls to arrive for their regular pub trivia night, but his heart wasn’t really in it tonight. He was annoyed at Kagome. She’d called him a ‘good boy’. Offered him a treat, like a dog. In front of other people. And it rankled, especially since she was usually the one who would defend him when others poked fun at his ears or his inuyoukai heritage. Somehow it hurt ten times worse coming from her, because it was unexpected. She did call him dog boy sometimes, but that hit different, because it was a nickname, a term of endearment. Being called a ‘good boy’ felt derogatory.
Maybe it had been petty, putting all the things up out of her reach, especially when he knew she was sensitive about her height, but he’d felt like being fucking petty. This game they were playing wasn’t as much fun as it had been.
His ear twitched as he heard the raised voices of Sango and Kagome over the general noise. Sango was disagreeing with her over something, asking her if it really was a good idea, and Kagome was shushing her, moving through the crowd towards them. She seemed a little off balance somehow, like she was walking differently, leaning slightly to one side.
As soon as he got closer he saw why. Her arm was in a sling.
The mugs. The fucking mugs. He’d put them all up out of her reach and hidden her step ladder under her bed. And of course because she was the clumsiest woman on this side of the planet, she’d managed to hurt herself. And it was all his fault. Fucking shit. He was the worst person alive.
Gulping, he pushed himself out of the booth, moving over towards them. Sango was still glowering at her, probably telling her it was a bad idea to be out at a pub when she was injured. And she was right. Maybe he should take her home. He couldn’t see a cast, so maybe her arm wasn’t broken. But even if it was just sprained, that was bad enough, because he knew it was coming up to the busiest time of year for her at work.
When he got closer, Sango greeted him shortly and then moved off to find Miroku. She obviously was angry at him, because she should be. Because he was a shit friend, who’d done something to someone who he cared about very much.
“Kagome…”
“Hey Inuyasha”, she said, looking downwards, her voice dejected, her arm cradled against her side carefully in the sling. “How are you?”
Unable to stop himself, he wrapped his arms around her carefully, like she was made of glass, avoiding her injured arm. She was so tiny, so fragile. So breakable.
“Kittycat, I’m so sorry. I just didn’t think.” He stroked her hair gently, running his clawed fingers through her dark curls. “Does it hurt too much? Have you had it x-rayed? If you want, I can take tomorrow off and take you to out patients. What ever you need, okay? I’m such a shit, I can’t believe I-“
Kagome cleared her throat. “Inuyasha?”
“Do you need to sit down?”
“No, I’m fine. I’m okay, really.” He watched as she pulled her arm out of the sling, and he flinched, his own hands moving reflexively, ready to steady her. “I really am fine. I almost fell, but then I didn’t. I didn’t get hurt. This is just to… to prank…um, gotcha?” she gulped as the concerned expression on Inuyasha’s face turned to ire.
He blinked at her, stony faced, then marched out of the pub, uncaring about Kagome calling after him.
He marched down the street, anger fueling his long strides, uncaring that Kagome’s voice was getting further and further away. He could hear her running to try and keep up, and he was bitterly amused about her tiny little human legs not being long or strong enough, until he heard her misstep and almost fall. Fuck. If she really did fall, which was totally a possibility because she was the biggest klutz on both sides of the planet…
He turned and marched back towards her, then waited, his arms crossed. She ran up to him, panting, leaning over to catch her breath.
“That wasn’t fucking funny Kagome.”
“I’m sorry”, she gasped. “I should have listened to Sango. She said it was too much. I was just annoyed about you putting everything up so high. And when I almost fell it gave me the idea.” She sighed. “But you’re right, it wasn’t funny.”
“Damn right it wasn’t!” he snarled. “I thought you were injured, and you know I’d never do anything to deliberately hurt you. Between this and the ‘good dog’ comment, I’m fucking-“
“What! I’d never-“
“It was implied. I was a ‘good boy’, who could have a ‘treat’? And then I suppose when you faked an injury you thought the good dog would whine about it and look after you? What did you do, read up on Inu youkai protective instincts or something? I bet you had a good laugh about it, huh?” He huffed out a heavy breath. “I don’t like this game we're playing anymore Kagome.”
“Inuyasha, I never meant it that way. I was teasing, but I’d never…” She was openly crying now, hugging her arms around herself. “Please, I’m so sorry. Please.”
She looked so pitiful that he relented, wrapping his arm around her shaking shoulders.
“I’m still annoyed Kagome”, he sighed. “But it’ll be okay so stop crying. No more pranks, okay?”
“No more”, she sobbed, pushing her face into his side. “I promise.”
Seeing a bench close by, he tugged her hand over to sit down beside him, patting her on the shoulder as she continued to cry.
“Hey c’mon now. Stop crying. I said it would be okay.”
“I really am sorry”, she sniffled. “I guess I don’t know when to stop. Maybe that was why Mama banned me and Souta from pranking each other.”
“You used to prank your brother? Hey, me too.” He rubbed her shoulder as she leaned into him. “Not all of them were bad. Look see, I still got kittens on my phone.” Kagome smiled, her cheeks wet with tears, and pulled out her own phone.
"Look, our lock screens match", she said softly, showing him the photo of them both standing in the sunshine surrounded by purple daisies. She wiped away her tears, taking a deep breath.
“I put the Nicholas Cage trivia team photo on the fridge so Sango and I can see it all the time”, she said shyly. “It makes me laugh. Are you gonna tell me how you did it?”
“Nope, I’ll take my secrets to the grave”, he grinned, then sighed. She still smelt like guilt and sadness. “C’mon Kagome. Cheer up.”
“Inuyasha, please believe me when I say that when I said ‘good boy’ I didn’t mean it the way you thought I did”, she hiccuped, looking at him intently. “I promise. I just didn’t think. I promise I won’t call you that again. And if I ever say anything that hurts your feelings like that, please tell me.”
“Okay. And I promise I won’t hide your things up high again. That was kinda mean too.”
“Okay. Are we good now?”
“We’re good.”
Kagome reached out her arms and hugged him around the waist. “Good. Because I hate fighting with you.”
He squeezed her back affectionately, then pulled her to her feet. “You ready to go kick some trivia butt Kittycat?”
“You bet.”
"Oh, and you need to make some more raisin cookies for Myoga. The old coot hasn't stopped raving about them."
53 notes · View notes
hannya-writes · 4 years ago
Note
Hihihi! I know it's kinda crazy and I just found your acc but I was LITERALLY thinking about a Marvel-SVU crossover and found yoooooou. I mean... The algorithm lead me to you. It's ✨ Destiny ✨ haha So I was wondering if you could write something Marvel-SVU kinda with Carisi x reader (i don't know if you watch agents of shield) where reader has to go UC for Shield and falls in love with him and he finds out she's Shield etc. I don't know if I'm making any sense rn I'm just really happy I found you. And now I sound creepy but it's already too late and I'm sending this.
Dear @lapaquerette : I do not watch Agents of shield, but I did my best! I swear I did! 😭 you totally made sense! But I feel like there's part of this story that are not so good, anyways~ let's get to the story!!
Title: Don't Tell anyone
Fandom: MCU and Law and order SVU
Pairing: Sonny Caruso x Reader
Other characters: no, I think no
Category: romance
Warnings: this doesn't have a happy ending bc I'm bad writing those! This is long I think.
Author's note: for a moment I thought of making this a serie, but my head couldn't stand it! I don't feel like I can picture Carisi in the right way so probably he's going to be very OOC. Also I'm not supper proud of this because I literally did what I wanted with the time line, Captain America: Winter Soldier happens in 2016 however Caruso es ADA in 2020 if I'm not wrong but in this case the events of winter soldier happen in 2020. Also there's like 2 years of difference btw WS and Civil War, and I tried my best! To make everything fit, but you know, you can kick my ass in comments.
• • •
The mission was supposed to last just a couple of days. Y/n had to pose as an assistant to the Junior ADA's why did they need assistance she didn't know, but when Nick fury assigned her there she just didn't dared to ask.
"Find out what's going on there" he had said as if it was a life or dead situation.
Pepto. That's what happened. High expectations was the other thing happening. The Junior ADA's where being pressed, running towards death case by case.
It was boring, the first two days Y/n had played "who's the jerk of the room?" She had found more than one, stress made that to people. Who cares about cordiality when they had to put people in jail? The answer was Dominic "Sonny" Carisi.
Sonny never yelled or snapped at people, he always asked nicely about papers, he said "Good Morning" and "thank you". He was a gentleman, a knight in a shiny armor. He made funny jokes even when he was struggling with a case.
Y/n had felt a weird desire to help him after just one encounter. The puppy eyes, she reasoned. After that day when he was in court she appeared there, sat and suddenly the people being cross-examined poured the truth without control or bursted in fit of rage confessing everything. She wasn't making something bad, she was helping, which she was supposed to do. No one was going to link her to those incidents. No one knew what she could do.
— copies, now — one of ADA's order her and she almost pushed the asshole and told him to do it himself, it was only a copy machine, he only had to push a button! However, Y/n was a trained spy, she had control over every muscle in her face to not make a disgusted expression at the tall and skinny man. 63 ways to kill him appeared in her head in a second.
— Sure thing — she said in a gently tone, entertaining her mind in the more horrible ways to deal with Tommy.
Tommy Parish, a bully in and out of court, linked to the Irish Mafia. He thought he was a big fish, prepotent but surprisingly brilliant. He was like a weasel. He wasn't that important. Shield wasn't interested by his night activities. They thought there was something else, something more important. Y/n didn't think so. The more interesting thing there was...
— Oh, Sorry didn't meant to...— Sonny said as he almost hit Y/n with the door.
— my fault, I was standing here like a creep — she took the guilt with a sheepish smile.
— A penny for your thoughts — he said as he walked outside and Y/n instinctively followed, as she usually followed after director Nick Fury,
— I think I'm being punished — she said while walking aimlessly, if Sonny had walked in the male restroom she would have probably followed him blindly.
— punish? For what? Did Tommy said something mean to you again? — the blond man sounded concerned and for Y/n it was refreshing, people around her tended to be more defensive around her than being worried about her well being.
— no! I think Tommy is warming up to me — Y/n said proudly — it's my umm... Dad, he send me to live here and I think is because he is mad at me —
There was a small silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable.
— why would he be mad? You are amazing! — Sonny sounded so positive and brilliant, he always seemed to have that aura around him, even in the worst cases. Y/n noticed it, and worried her when he started to lose his shine.
— in my last job, I made a mistake and people got hurt — the confession was sincere. She wasn't lying, she was omitting that those people didn't just "got hurt", they died. She had killed them.
— You are human, humans make mistakes — he said stopping in front of an embellished door. — talk later? — he asked and Y/n nodded with a smile.
•••
After a month everything still was normal. No conspicuous action, no weird people. Y/n wondered why was she there? Was she really being punished by Fury? She had made a mistake, she had chose to save a person, she couldn't know that the objective was going to detonate the whole place. She couldn't read every single thought, her brain would melt if she even tried.
— Sorry, I need to... — said Sonny pointing at the copy machine, y/n blushed for being caught spacing out, again for the 4 time in a week
— I'm so sorry, allow me — y/n extended a hand offering to make the copy for Carisi.
— don't worry, I can push a button — he said making her smile and feel weird.
— please Mr. Carisi, let me be of help — she offered tilting her head a little bit, Sonny found that little action distracting and cute enough to give her the papers he needed to copy.
He saw her move, she was so elegant even just making copies.
— thank you — he told her sighing exhausted.
— don't worry Mr. Carisi, I'll do this, get it in a folder and get it back to you, why don't you go rest your eyes a bit? — she asked with a smile, noticing his tired demeanor
— I'll do it, if you start calling me Sonny — he negotiated and she laughed whole heartedly — come on, everytime you call me Mr. Carisi I feel like you are talking to my father —
— fine, you got yourself a deal — she offered her hand and he took her in his bigger one. Sonny felt asleep with the sound of the copy machine working.
— Sonny, Sonny — Y/n soft voice took him out of dreamland, he found out in that moment that his Nickname sounded awesome from Y/n lips.
•••
From Sonny's eyes y/n was an amazing woman who was able to help everyone with their tasks, she made copies, keep archives ordered, got everything for everyone. She made time to know all of the junior's ADA's of "her room", she served coffee when needed, got them food, kept clean clothes for them just in case. She was like a mother. Sometimes she even helped them found the info they needed. She made all of that and made it with a polite smile. She had been there for like a year and their interactions where short, but he was head over heels for her.
Why? Because she got a great sense of humor, she was nice, smart, sassy when needed, had an excellent memory, she made the best black coffee he had ever tasted. She never got nervous no matter the circumstances. He didn't understand how or why was she assigned to be the "mother hen" of 7 ADA's, but he was thankful. Some days became better the moment she gave him a smile and he imagined that smile was just for him.
Sonny pinched the bridge of his nose in pain. It was past midnight and he was still in his office, working on papers. Practicing his opening statement.
— the truth... The truth....— he repeated trying to remember the next point of the speach. He grunted frustrated.
— Sonny? — the sudden voice made the attorney jump and Y/n laughed.
— Geez, doll! — he exclaimed surprised — You should use a bell — added more awake than before.
— doll? — Y/n questioned rising an eyebrow, Sonny turned red.
— Sorry, I didn't mean to disrespect you — he quickly apologized.
— you didn't, I actually like it — she admitted — I'll allow it — added in a solemn voice — with a condition councilor, only in private I don't need more gossips going around—
After saying those words, Y/n knew that she was digging her own grave. She liked Sonny.
•••
Y/n looked at her phone horrified. Nick had send her and encrypted message. Which was resumed to: You are free of SHIELD, live the life of Y/n Veith. The life he had created for her, an identity that couldn't be connected to the Spy agency. Y/n Y/l/n had died in what they called something like the purge of Hydra. He didn't needed her. He had died. Captain america had basically destroyed the corrupted SHIELD. This was her life now. She was what? a secretary? An assistant?
She should had fail with SHIELD, she should had been there with Fury, protecting him. But she didn't. She pretended nothing happened and followed his last order to her: live like Y/n Veith.
She went with the flow. Acted like everything was just fine, made a routine, followed it to the last point. Untill one day out of the blue she broke down crying in Sonny's office. He was her friend.
— what happened? — he asked on the other side of the desk, surprised that in the middle of his speech, y/n started crying. The case was difficult, a father died to protect his daughter. The teenager girl had been raped and her father was killed by the rapist. It was way more complicated but, that were the facts.
— sorry, sorry — she said cleaning her face with her hands, Sonny approached and offered her a handkerchief that she took hesitantly. — I lost, I lost him — she stuttered.
Sonny kneeled by her side, took the handkerchief and cleaned her beautiful face.
— I'm so sorry, doll — he said even if he didn't understand, Y/n felt his consternation.
— my father died — she said with a soft voice — my house burned down — she added and Sonny understood, her father adopted her, he had saved her and then lost it all. The case had hit too close to her.
— Come on, we had enough of this case — he decided getting up, taking her hands to get her to stand — I'll take you home — he said and she smiled with sadness.
— I don't want to go to my department — she confessed getting up and Sonny gave her a soothing smile.
— We can go to my place — he offered without a second intention, she nodded and they walked away from the office, Sonny ordered an Uber.
Outside of One Hogan place with a heavy heart, y/n leaned against Sonny and he hugged her while waiting for their ride, and during the ride.
Y/n fell asleep without nightmares for the first time in the 6 months after the dead of Nick. Sonny by her side, over the covers and behind a "wall" of pillows fell asleep with the image of a peaceful Y/n.
•••
Three months later, Y/n entered Sonny's little office, she said a "sorry to interrupt", the blond man stopped writing and turned to her eagerly, he tried to suppress his desire to look into her eyes but he wasn't that good at that.
He hadn't seen her in more than 14 days thanks to his overflow of cases and her being stole by homicides DA, who had discovered she was very good in investing.
She muttered a "what?" In mockery, as if the distance and time hadn't even happened and added a "I got you a donut!". A donut that he had craved since morning but wasn't able to get. He sighed a laugh, sometimes it was as if she could read his mind.
— you are life saver, doll— he sighed in relief taking the donut from her hand.
— Should I get you some coffee? — she asked with that caring tone that made him feel special.
— I would love that — he accepted as she merrily went to the coffee machine and poured him a cup and then a glass of water.
Sonny wondered about where did those pretty and elegant glasses came from, have they always been there? She left a bag in the table and walked back to him. He pretended to be working but it was hard to act when she was walking towards him with that dark red pencil skirt that hug perfectly the curb of her hips, the black blouse making contrast, hanging a bit loose over her torso.
— thanks doll — he said when she put the coffee and water in a corner of the desk, he looked at her with a smile — water? — he asked with a joking tone, y/n nodded
— yes, sir — she said in the same joking mood — I took an account of the caffeine you ingest by day, this could be dangerous for your health, so for every cup of caffeine, one of water — she explained with as much confidence as a lawyer making an opening statement.
— are you worried about me? — he was almost flirting, she blushed even if they sometimes flirted a bit.
— I worry about all of you — she pointed out and gave a mischievous smile that made Sonny blush.
— thank you, doll — he quipped with a smile, she smiled back and walked away to Parish desk, the man sat there looked down to his papers as Y/n put a bagel by his hand.
Sonny noticed how Tommy's ears got as read as a tomato and turned to look at her with adoration, the same look the other ADA's got everytime she was near. He had seen how things slowly changed with Y/n presence, at first they were rude, condescending, then they realized that she was excellent in her work. She had saved all of them more than once with little actions.
Y/n had a charming aura and some men in the office had asked her out, Tommy included, but she always turned them down, with an excellent excuse. "I'm seeing someone".
Carisi wondered who. Who was she dating?
•••
— Coffee — she announced as she took a folder and put it carefully away.
Sonny smiled and suddenly thought of Y/n lie about she seeing someone. She had never tell him about her boyfriend, he thought of all of those slice of life moments they had, the banters they have, the many times she had helped him. The times she would stay in his apartment so she wouldn't be alone.
Was he the person she was seeing?
— do you have plans for tonight? — he asked abruptly and Y/n looked at him surprised.
— I got a date with my bed, but I can reschedule — she offered with a smile, she could rest later, she had to enjoy every moment with Sonny.
— do it, I'll take you to a wonderful place — He said with all of his confidence, she giggled — after work? — she nodded contently.
— It's a deal — she said before walking away with a big smile in her face.
Sonny felt stupidly happy. It was him. She was dating him unofficially.
•••
That night Y/n tried to look as perfect as was possible in work clothes, she had refreshed herself, use a little more of make up. She was excited, she really liked Sonny and had wanted to go on a date with him, no work talk, no solving ways to state a question. She wanted to know him in a more personal way.
They sat in a table of a nice looking bar, a decent one. It wasn't pretentious, they actually served food and not just greasy fast food. She had told him distorted versions of stories with her "family and friends", (since she couldn't talk about her real life and training) like that time her father had taught her how to use a gun for her homework and she discovered she had weak fingers.
She heard about his time as a Police officer, a detective nonetheless! Sargent Benson seemed to be a very empathic person, Detective Tutuola was definitely a funny man, Amanda was for him like one more of his sisters. And Sonny discovered that she was adopted by a man called Nick, Nick Veith he guessed, since he thought that was her real last name.
She had two "adopted" sister and a brother: Maria, Natalie and Clinton. Maria was righteous, Nat was smart and sassy, Clint was funny and sometimes really annoying. Sonny thought he would get along easily with them.
They laughed between stories, they were getting fun untill Y/n felt there was something wrong. Something was about to happen. Something bad.
— Something wrong? — Y/n barely registered Sonny's voice before jumping over him yelling a "get down". A telekinetic wake made the other around people fall to the ground just in time as a rain of bullets came from the broken windows.
Sonny heard the glass breaking, people screaming in panic. Saw the bullets fly over him and the bottles in the bar breaking in slow motion. He had never experienced anything like that. The light weight of Y/n over him. And his monkey mind thought about how right that felt.
There was a "clank" from a gas' bomb, then a flash and a cloud of white smoke. People stood up and started running.
— Y/n — Sonny pulled her to see her face, he thought she would be scared, paralyzed from fear. However, when he saw her face there was no fear, she seemed confused, puzzled. — come on, we have to move —
Y/n was thinking the same, but she didn't know what was the right move: defend everyone there using her not-so-human powers? Run away and pretend to be a delicate woman, scared of the situation?
— doll? — Sonny sounded worried and in almost panic, a switch turned as boots hit the floor of the bar.
— Stay behind me — Y/n said with confidence getting up, feeling the presence of 8 people surrounding them, circling them. — and... — she looked at Sonny worried — don't get scared — she pleaded softly.
— Y/n Y/l/n surrender yourself — someone yelled and the woman felt her skin crawl, she hadn't hear her name in more than a year. It sounded good.
— is this about the accords? — She thought, aware of the Sokovia accords and what they proposed. She hadn't signed them. No one was supposed to know about her, her powers, she hadn't expected the government to notice her.
Nat? Clint? Maybe Maria had told them.
— That's right, put your hands in the air — the man ordered in a shout. Y/n closed her eyes and closed her hand in a thigh fist, making the fog disappear.
— Sorry, I can't do that— she confessed pushing the man with telekinesis. — I'm not a weapon you can use —
A new row of bullets flew towards Y/n and Sonny. A bright green light appeared in her eyes and all of the bullets stopped in the air, traces of the same light that made Y/n shine seemed to contain the little bullets like tendrills, the bullets turned in the air pointing at the squadron that was attacking her
— Y/n, no! — Sonny made her react, the tendrills disappeared and the bullets fell useless to the ground as the woman turned to see the Attorney.
— Sonny, sonny — she stuttered worried— no, no, no, no, I would never hurt them, I'm not a monster, I'm not! — she said almost in panic,not because of the attack but for the ideas Sonny could get.
Sonny saw the green and now red light form an eyes over Y/n, then monsters from nightmares formed from the light, monsters like dogs, with skulls covering the hideous animals with blood dripping from their snouts, bodies wet with a black substance. The animals roared and jumped to defend them.
Y/n saw fear in Sonny's eyes. She recognized it, a bright tendril started to form in the exact point of her heart, the fear taking form in her presence. Her hand squished the light over her chest, stopping something else to form.
He didn't know what to say. Carisi knew about the avengers, the new york incident had affected his work, he had saw everything about "ultron", he was informed about Tony Stark and the avengers every move. But he didn't know what was he supposed to say? "Sign the accords" was what he wanted to say. It was selfish for him to ask that, he couldn't do it.
— doll, you're not a monster— he finally found his own voice to say that. — but you have to go —
— Sonny, I... — the ADA put a strand of hair behind Y/n ear taking her by surprise.
— If you don't mind, I'll like to kiss you — he said making her blink in disbelief.
— yes please...— she said and Carisi smiled brightly, his large hand caressed her cheek and softly leave a tender kiss in her soft lips. It barely lasted more than a second. When Carisi opened up his eyes, everything was back to normal. Like a couple of minutes ago, right before the shooting.
In the table was a note: "Don't tell anyone" he recognized Y/n writing. He wondered if everything had been a dream, a hallucination. A part of him told him that no, that couldn't be his imagination. Y/n had left.
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fallenrepublick · 4 years ago
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Ma’am. I just discovered your work on accident and kriff I’m obsessed. If possible could you do something along the lines of Obi Wan being his flirty self in front of maul and making him super jealous? Sorry if that’s a lousy request 😅
Nah, that’s a great request! It turned into... something I wasn’t expecting it to turn into so let me know how you felt about this
Also I had no idea where this could fit in continuity-wise so I just created a situation that doesn’t exist, because I have zero (0) percent creativity
Warnings: None
The town square was particularly beautiful that morning, cobblestone pathways reflecting the sleek light of the noontime sun. With a small amount of time on your hands, you had wanted to while away a few hours by the large fountain that sat right in the middle. Book in hand, you sat yourself right at the edge of the water, periodical droplets poking at you like blunt embroidery needles to make sure you weren’t totally lost in the inky world in front of you. The time spent alone wasn’t to last, though.
An ill-defined silhouette slid over the pages you were open to, causing you to snap out of your trance and tilt your head up to your intruder. Your first thought was that Maul had managed to pull away from the endless piles of work that only seemed to grow bigger as he picked away at it. This was not the case.
Before you was a young man, reddish hair and beard covering angular features. Kenobi. His head was tilted and his arms crossed in front of him as if he were trying to see what it was you were so focused on.
“I haven’t had time to read much lately,” he began, coming to sit down beside you, light creamy robes draping off the stone edge. “It was mostly my master who enjoyed books, though I do appreciate a classic every so often.”
Oh boy.
The good news was, he clearly didn’t know who you were. “Actually, I haven’t been reading much lately either. I’ve been so busy…” You smiled at him, his blunt friendliness feeling nice after a while of being surrounded by less-than-friendly people.
He swung his arm behind him, leaning back onto it, but tilted just enough towards you that you noticed. “What might the book be about?”
“It’s a really old one.” Your voice perked up at his question, choosing to ignore his movement. “Mainly about centuries old wars, before Jedi or Sith or anything like that were really established. I’m sure a lot of it is embellishment, but the concepts are fascinating, and I think the timeline goes up to the Order’s eventual origin on Tython.”
He seemed surprised at your answer, as if he were expecting you to go on some tangent about fairy tales or romantic adventures. All of those things were exciting, no doubt, but it is also beneficial to know one’s history.
“And this is all of your own volition?” he asked, chuckling lightly. “You’re not being forced to study?”
“Trust me, if that were the case, I’d be locked up in my room sulking like a moody teenager.” You both laughed, the light mood brightening nearly everything you said. Though you knew he was technically an enemy, the way he spoke to you was nothing short of kindness, and it was a strange feeling that crept into you as you wondered if he might even be a friend.
Since the day was relatively peaceful, the two of you spent much more time than you had expected sharing stories and laughing at the worst situations you had found yourselves in.
“I told him, ‘Anakin, you must protect the senator with your life,’ and what does he do?”
You nodded sagely. “He gets them both captured.”
“He gets them both captured!” He was gesturing widely, surely letting out years of contained frustration and mild embarrassment. “We could have been eaten!”
“I’m sure that was a very fun conversation with the council,” you added, snickering.
His hand was on your shoulder, wide grin now diminished into a smirk. “It was, but I learned that day that there are many things the Council doesn’t need to know.”
Merely a few metres away, you heard someone clear their throat.
Oh. Nice.
Hesitantly, you turned your head. Maul stood in front of you, hands on his hips and brow furrowed, lips tightly pursed in annoyance.
“It’s been thirty minutes.”
You stood up immediately, smiling nervously, yet trying to make it look like you weren’t guilty. “Maul! Uh, how long have you been standing there?”
“For at least a quarter of it.”
“Hold on,” Obi-Wan said, standing up and filling the space between you and Maul. “You’re,” He pointed at you. “With him?” He pointed at Maul.
Maul rolled his eyes and spun around. “We’re leaving.”
Unsure of what to do, you turned to Kenobi, mumbled a quick “Sorry…” and rushed to catch up with Maul’s quickly diminishing figure.
People passed you by often, and though they paid no mind to you, you were terribly aware of them, keeping your voice low in case you accidentally caught their attention. “I think you think that was something it wasn’t…” you attempted, wishing it came out more eloquently than it did.
“I know exactly what that was,” he said, not bothering to look back down at you.
Taking a moment to think, you asked finally, “You’re not… jealous… are you?”
Hearing that, he pulled you into an empty alley. “Why would I be jealous?” he snapped, spinning around and glaring at you, clearly defensive. “What have I to be jealous of?”
You crossed your arms and leaned forward accusingly. “I know how you get. You always start getting pouty and upset when I talk to anyone who isn’t you.”
“Well, maybe I like being the person you want to talk to and not some Jedi.”
“I do talk to you. Besides, you know where my loyalties lie, right?”
He didn’t answer. His eyes narrowed instead as he stalked closer to you, backing you up against the cold wall of the building. “Perhaps… But I think that you need to be reminded.”
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madslorian · 4 years ago
Text
Something More Saturday
Chapter 19 is up... and Amy DID NOT HESITATE TO PULL ON MY EMOTIONS. Pleaseeee take this time during her mini-hiatuses to catch up on the series. It's so worth it, I promise 💚
SPOILERS AHEAD! So check ya self before ya wreck ya self on this chapter.
Here's how I feel after that whole thing (so much so that it took me like a day to come back to this):
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I can't tell if I went straight into an asthma attack or what, but I could not breathe this entire chapter. Like there were some parts that made my body just go rigid and I left out a breath of air once I finished the paragraph?! Here are some parts that had me ✨freaking out ✨because of the brilliant writing (either crying or laughing):
It makes sense, really, especially because you’re not even sure if it is the Force that you’re feeling, or if you’re just an empath, extra intuitive, because no one has ever sat you down and explained that something bigger than yourself lives inside you. Honestly, you’ve always been able to connect to your surroundings more deeply than those around you, but you just figured that was part of being you.
↳ Felt that shit. I would say I'm Force-sensitive, but unfortunately, this isn't Star Wars and I myself am probably just an empath. But that confusion and having to figure it out on her own just to come to the conclusion she's found somebody like her? GORGEOUS, UGH.
... you don’t want to be running. You promised him you wouldn’t, even, and it’s that thought and that thought alone that makes you stop. You freeze, crying something horrific, hands seized around fistfuls of green grass as you sink into the field, the luminescence of the flowers glittering through your tears.
↳ The idea that Nova just wanted to run, and run, and run, but realized that she was doing exactly what she promised not to and that's what made her stop had my eyes bubbling up. Having your first instinct be to run is so familiar to me, but having that grounding rock within Din is such a saving grace.
Wordlessly, he pulls the pillowcases off the pillows, heaping in the blanket that always resided at the foot of the bed, sealing it up with the smell of your family inside.
↳ So it was when Nova was standing outside the door to her old home that I accidentally threw my tablet on my bed and started crying. (Also when I messaged Amy telling her that this was beautiful, and I meant it) I was shaking honestly. Before going in and having her say "I don't know how it will look" brought me back to times when I wish I could have left areas of my life untouched, preserved in time, but be out of sight out of mind. So when they finally go in and everything is still the same just as it was left, it hit me the hardest. There are so many times I wish I could go back to my old childhood house and open up doors to see everything there, pristinely untouched. (I still drive by sometimes when I'm in the area and feel my heart hurt when I look at even how much just the outside has changed) I wish I could have left my grandma's room untouched after she passed so I could venture back in there and be reminded of her whenever I wished, but I couldn't. And there's so much importance behind Din taking off the pillowcases to keep with her and be able to smell that faint whiff of her parents after 10 whole years. Even now, 11 years later after her passing, I have a perfume that my mom bought me because it smells like my grandma and I'm too scared to run out and lose the scent of what I think she smells like. I'm just babbling now and turned this into a therapy session, but there was SO MUCH emotional connection to this part.
Also a side note, I thought that the idea of the planet being deserted, and with Nova leaving the door open just a crack if she decided to come back, would lead to a whole lot of cute domesticity between them. Like the idea of them somehow making the base into a habitable place and living there between work or when/if Din finally leaves the Guild, was so cute inside my mind. But at the same time, that isn't her home anymore so 🤧
“Din means noise,” you repeat. “A—and I always thought how—how ironic that was, when it came to you. You make me quiet. You make the silence less loud.”
↳ LOVE IT!! To have somebody provide such peace and safety that it quiets the depths of your mind is absolutely fricken magical. But I thought something so sweet about their names and the meanings was that Nova was able to outshine the thoughts Din was having about preserving the Creed. He was able to silence her noise, but she was able to radiate like a beaming light through his thoughts. Like a beacon calling to him from shore through the thick and hazy fog that his mind was in, confused about how the Creed fell alongside his love for her.
Lifting your left hand, you wriggle it at him, pointing to your ring finger. He stares at it for a second before you can explain what you mean.
↳ I love our himbo space cowboy tin can. This part just made me laugh.
You swallow, pulse racing, all you can think about is how awful it is to see his bare face—the way his eyes glow, the way he looks into your soul—when he’s bewildered.
↳ yeah, I screamed. what about it? The chapter leaving off on the word betrayed? Yeah. I'm heartbroken but it's okay. My mans just proposed 😌I am confident in their relationship but homegirl, why'd you wait so long to tell himmmmm? I feel like he would understand though, so there's that to look forward to possibly?? It's just the idea of finally being able to see his face and seeing that pure betrayal and hurt makes me wanna scream so badly, but there's the rest of their lives left to enjoy that face. So I'm looking forward to the next chapter in 2 weeks!!! ily @amiedala
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This song came on my "falling in love on the Razor Crest" playlist while Din was proposing, and truly I can't put my finger on why this feels like it fits Nova and Din, but it does in my mind?? Like I could totally picture them being together and devoting themselves to staying alongside one another even as this bomb approaches and destroys the world. As long as they have each other.
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skinks · 5 years ago
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The Toziers convince Sonia to let them take Eddie to disney world on his 14th birthday. Needless to say he LOVES every second of it and that’s when Richie realizes that he’s lowkey in love with him
ok anon stop reading my MIND I was actually thinking weeks ago about this literal very same thing. Well, a variant, but yours is adorable too omg. Also I think a lot about them going as adults post-movie and Eddie spends the whole day just going on the Hulk rollercoaster at Universal over and over
but god imagine Eddie having a huge bowl of Disney World ice cream plonked in front of him at the Rainforest Cafe with birthday sparklers, and they’re like “Eat up son, you’re not 14 every day!” and Eddie tries to blow out the sparklers and not cry simultaneously. Eddie at a theme park is actually so personal. He tries ONE rollercoaster (Thunder Mountain) and immediately becomes an adrenaline junkie, and Richie’s sitting next to him hearing him shriek and swear and their hands are clasped together overhead as they hurtle down a plunging loop, and he’s like oh no.
My thing was that I have this image of a 90s family photo of Maggie and Went squishing long haired teen metalhead Richie between them maybe at Magic Kingdom or in front of the big ball at Epcot, and he’s taller than both of them with a gruesome unintelligible black tshirt on but he’s got the biggest goofy smile, and he’s wearing Mickey ears cause it’s his BIRTHDAY. But 14 is probably better cause maybe like, Went and Maggie saw how upset Richie and his friends all were the year before and want to cheer him up?
Then I thought, his parents say he can bring another friend with him if he likes, and Bev’s already gone to Portland right? Mike and Bill are working, Ben and Stan are both at different nerdy summer camps (I know Richie’s birthday is in March but let’s pretend they take him as a joint bday/end of school year treat) and so he brings Eddie. Richie kinda wanted to bring Eddie the most in the first place, so it works out perfectly. Eddie’s only allowed to go because he’s still riding his gazebos wave of defiance and also they promise Sonia Eddie won’t go on a single dangerous ride (wink), and she’d hate to be seen to be ungrateful, people would talk.
Richie and Eddie get their own room in the motel and trampoline between the two beds because they’re little monsters. They always run out onto the balcony at night to watch the thunderstorms. The first time they walk through the gates at Magic Kingdom Eddie’s like :00000 Richie look! EVERYONE’S wearing fanny-packs!!!! and Richie’s like yeah >:( but you were a cute dork first, and Eddie’s like hey fuck you—wait...... cute? and Richie’s like uhhhh HEY LOOK IS THAT PLUTO
They freak the fuck OUT at the Star Wars bit in MGM, back when it was still called MGM. Maggie and Went let them see The Muppets 3D three times in a row and Richie gets a Kermit shirt, and whenever Eddie starts pestering him about sunblock Richie sings It Ain’t Easy Being Green to drown him out.
The see the Indiana Jones stunt show at MGM and Richie decides he’s gonna be a stuntman. Then they go to the driving stunt thing and Eddie says it would be super cool to be stunt driver, and Richie’s like we can be a stunt team!!!! together!!! And Went grins, “Like Siegfried and Roy,” and Maggie elbows him.
Eddie overcomes one of his many anxieties and pets some lizards at Animal Kingdom. They fill their hats with water from the spouting fountains at Epcot and then put them straight on their heads, dumping water over themselves to cool off. It’s actually closer to Maggie’s real birthday than anyone else’s so they have dinner at Epcot Mexico for Richie, Mags AND Eddie and the mariachi band comes over. Richie and Wentworth start singing a totally inaccurate Spanish Happy Birthday and Eddie almost sinks under the table in embarrassment. People are staring, and he’s so used to people staring in public when his own mom causes a scene, but this is a fun scene, Maggie’s rolling her eyes and clapping along so maybe it’s not so bad.
They make up games to play in the long lines for rides, Maggie and Went joining in on Eye Spy, or Richie’s “Guess Which State That Gross Family Are From” game, but don’t join in with Richie and Eddie’s complicated patty-cake-thumb-war hybrid. Eddie always has a ton of water in his backpack and a lil hand-held fan in his fanny pack, and sometimes in the hotter lines he feels very bold and squishes his and Richie’s faces cheek to cheek so they can share the fan, but it doesn’t seem to make much of a difference cause Richie’s face almost feels warmer when he does.
At Typhoon Lagoon they wrestle all the way around Lazy River (and get chastised by the lifeguards) and have major water cannon wars. Eddie watches all the fit young lifeguard dudes up in their chairs like 😳😳😳 that looks like a... cool job. Helping people. Hm.
They split a thing of churros. They get right up to the top of the tallest slide and Eddie gets scared, but Richie just clambers all the way back down the stair tower with him, mouthing off at the bigger kids giving them grief, and Eddie’s like “you should have just gone without me” and Richie’s like nah, be it’d no fun without you, and Eddie thinks about this entire vacation and for a wild moment he thinks my whole life would be no fun without you.
They return to see Maggie lying face down on her deck chair and towel, reading her book with her sunny yellow bikini top untied and Went is Very Attentively Applying Sunscreen to her bare back lmao. Richie’s like UGH GROSS and Went jumps a little like, “oh fu—uh, hey boys, you’re back quick.”
The concrete is so hot they have to run quick from pool to pool to stop their soles burning. Richie can’t wear his glasses in the water so he clings to Eddie the whole time, both of them slippery and giggling and Eddie feels like he’s getting a full body sunburn every time their wet bodies bump together, even though he’s wearing like six coats of factor 50.
Oh and you know they go to Universal. Oh BOY do they go to Universal. Eddie screams on the Jaws ride when the animatronic lunges right against where he’s sitting, and he jumps back in his seat and like, Richie must’ve been way closer than he thought because he falls all over his lap and Richie’s like “Hooper ya idiot, starboard! Ain’tcha watching it!” in his Quint From Jaws Voice, which is actually one of his better Voices since Quint sounds like every other curmudgeonly Maine old-timer back in Derry, but this time he’s pretty shaky about it for some reason.
They go to the new Horror Make-Up Show and Richie waves his arm so hard he gets picked as the volunteer, and winds up making the crowd laugh even more than the hosts, they’re all mock-outraged like “Who’s your agent! You’re here from Mouse Town to make us look bad, right?!”
Then when the Wolfman bursts out, Eddie can see there’s a moment where Richie’s whole body flinches bloodless, his arms come up to cover his face, and his head jerks to stare out for a moment into the crowd looking like he did when he saw his face on a missing poster, and Eddie overcomes his terror of being Perceived by the crowd to yell “GET HIM RICH” and everyone laughs, Richie grins, and it’s fine again.
On their last night they go back to Magic Kingdom to see the fireworks, and they’re exhausted. Sun-dazed and sugar-filled and adrenaline-drained and the fireworks make everything kinda dreamy. They’re shuffling along behind Maggie and Went to get a good spot when they see Maggie take Went’s hand. Richie pulls a face at Eddie and Eddie scrunches a face back and they snicker, and Richie makes a mock “oooh~ Eddie~” noise and grabs Eddie’s hand—they both keep laughing and watching the fireworks, but like... then it stops being funny and starts being something else. Richie’s just holding his hand, and the crowd is so thick and dark under ballooning Florida clouds and the fantasy sky, so anonymous that nobody notices but them. Eddie’s heart might be shooting into the sky and exploding into sparks as well, he’s ready to collapse and he can’t possibly LOOK at Richie but for a moment he’s like shit, they’re right. Happiest place on Earth.
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peepingtoad · 4 years ago
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OKAY SO. 
It’s not that often that I talk about what I really think about Jiraiya, and I guess I mean more how I feel about him, since I always try to write my ‘deeper’ headcanons/metas from a more... idk, trying not to get too emotional about it point of view. Basically it’s because I know how controversial he is, and I pretty much ritually avoid a lot of takes because I don’t want to get irritated about something that really doesn’t matter much in the grand scheme, because we’re all entitled to our opinions and I largely get my say through the act of writing and developing him how I see fit.
Which is enough for me, mostly, but for the purpose of reinforcing/building upon how I see my muse’s plight, working through some of my Sannin-feels and also to dip my toes into why I find blindly judgemental/single-faceted takes of him, his priorities and the Sannin’s bond so exasperating, I kinda feel like rambling my thoughts (feelings) anyway! 
Politely sticks this stream-of-consciousness mess under a cut.
So sometimes I do think about the fact that Jiraiya kinda, lmao, forgot about Everything Else in the world because of Orochimaru and his (frankly) obsession with him/them. And the fact that a ridiculously significant portion of bad shit that happened is down to his actions/inaction. And the fact that he really did go and leave the likes of Naruto (and maybe to a degree Kakashi, although there’s zero actual evidence he didn’t get involved given the strong indications of a great rapport in the canon), just because he was so hellbent on pursuing Orochimaru, who was not even shown to be affectionate towards him at the best of times. When I think about it in terms of Jiraiya being gone and the main reason we’re given for it, things suck for a number of people, and quite largely because of potentially unrequited/horribly communicated/obsessive JiraOro pursuits, in essence :’)
(And for all it’s still quite the rarepair, Jiraiya does express on accounts that he was destroyed when Oro left. I mean... this is the guy who rarely acknowledges his sadness so... It’s not my bias at all I sware)
Of course JiraTsu is very real in my eyes too, albeit a very different kinda tragic, as is OroTsu. And the messy poly ship? Ohohoho, even better, but... yeah. Tsunade does at least go her own way for a long time, as messed up as that is in itself, for reasons including the fact she seems to pointedly not heal or move on from her grief. And given the absolute debacle that was her and Jiraiya reuniting... and both her and Oro even discussing a possibility of sacrificing him... and just, them in general for that whole arc :’))) yeah. They are without a doubt messy and troubled, but even despite how fraught things become I genuinely think all the furtive expressions and the undercurrents of longing and the evasion of their past exhibits a history much deeper and full of lost love compared to many other team dynamics we get (otherwise the Three Way Divorce wouldn’t have been quite so horrible on them, would it? That and they’d probably have split up after Team Hiruzen was no more, if they really hated each other/just tolerated each other out of familiarity like I sometimes see speculated).
But yeah, back to our main man. Jiraiya’s intense (and frankly very Scorpio of him) love for our first series Big Bad kinda did ruin him and what he was setting out to do in some ways, to the degree that the actual story of Naruto wouldn’t be very much without him in terms of drama. I mean, he always loved a good story, right? So art imitates life, and innit just pathetic poetic.
And in so many ways it is incredibly tragic and pitiable that he’s Just Like That. Idealistic and warping everything terrible, no matter how bad, into adventure in his mind! As growth! As pain that makes you TOUGH and makes you a stronger man! As something to be pushed aside while you just keep on truckin’! Whatever anyone you love throws at you, it’s Totally Fine!
After so long narrating through his personal lens, I’ve come to realise he truly is so convinced that everything bad that happens, is sort of just... something he has to deal with and feel big and guilty and feelsy for while spinning it in ways that enable him to keep going. He just loads it on himself and sorta holds it. The fact he’s so sad and filled with sickly pining grief that he has to try and exorcise it with impulsive bouts of decadence? Fine. And it’s not abnormal at all, how he approaches things with such broad scope and just kinda... thoughtlessly wrecking-balls his way through everything he thinks is a great idea at the time. He experiences the fallout of these things and simultaneously feels the entire ravages of it acutely while compartmentalising it ever so neatly away. The crazy thing, too, is that he’s exceptionally convincing at making everything he does and how he handles things seem so grand and noble and romantic and tragic... but in a humorously self-deprecating and still ultimately very hopeful way, to the degree that I as a mun get caught up in his relentless optimism and forget he actually is a sad and heartbroken guy wrapped up in all this grandiosity.
Sometimes I do step back and look and I just think yeah, fuck, he really is a total disaster! He’s a walking disaster and he’s been so damaging to himself and others in so many ways, all because of acting on emotions and impulses without really thinking about the impact! He really did kinda give up on those who needed him and for what? A love that will never love him or prioritise him back? 
A wonderfully tragic theme that I do love with him, don’t get me wrong.
But then at the same time, there’s always more nuance to be had than just ‘he is a disaster and made bad choices, as tragic and romantic as it is, he was actually just selfish and kinda sucked in the end, pathetically whipped by his friends and unable to let go of what they had’. There’s more nuance to be had than reducing him to a purely romantically-inclined character, who just snubs everyone else for a doomed love... because in the end, I think a huge part of JiraOro’s demise in particular was that Oro felt immensely snubbed by Jiraiya when he stayed in Ame, when his loyalty to Konoha (as a place and people, not necessarily a system) and of course loyalty to his own ideals was prioritised over Oro.
To an extent, I feel like Tsunade could have been a similar case, were she not preoccupied with already having lost so much, and besides I really do think she and Jiraiya were quite firmly in best friend zone at that point. With Tsunade not being able to get comfortable around Jiraiya or to pursue any underlying affection for him because of the dumbass way he always behaved (understandably of her tbh), probably until she got with Dan, by which point I reckon Jiraiya started to really come through by showing how he valued her for her, where we see by them having each other’s backs so closely in the second war. Not to mention him generally respecting that his feelings for her have no place by the time he gets her back to Konoha.
In terms of that first split in Ame, Jiraiya, I feel, simply didn’t think him leaving was going to be a big deal, because the three were always fiercely headstrong people who had their own shit going on (simultaneously independent while also being, perhaps not to their knowledge, So Very Codependent). Not only that, but his overly affectionate ways and incessant jolliness were probably considered such a joke that he was basically like ‘they’ll be fine without me’. I certainly don’t think he felt needed by them, which I don’t think is their fault or a point of angst and ‘waaah poor blameless Jiraiya’, because quite honestly, the strain on their relationship was something I fully believe even he didn’t realise he needed out of at the time. His one-track mind was just on ‘save kids, teach kids, this is right, must seize opportunity to be the change I was told I’d be, not continue with this godforsaken war’
Selfish? Maybe. Well-intentioned? Certainly. Intended to hurt anyone or imply he stopped caring? No.
In essence, when it comes to why in the end Jiraiya seemed to be so horrendously bad at being around at the worst of times, at being responsible, whatever else (and I’m not even going to go into scenes intended to be comedic because, they are comedic)... I’ve got to look at it from more than just one view. It’s easy to say ‘he’s ridiculous and terrible because he pretty much flaked on what was important based on his whims/a doomed love/his dick’ (which I have seen said lmao) but there are so many other things at play here.
So I’m thinking, while he was shirking duties (godfatherly mainly)... did he actually consider that his most important duty? Was it anyone’s place to tell him it was? Minato didn’t, as I recall, and when he sacrificed himself he specifically left it to the Third because he (presumably) respected what his teacher was about and knew he wasn’t for staying put. Did Jiraiya not consider his primary duty to be to the prophecy, and in a more general sense fixing the big wrongs and trying to foil big dangers to his home? Were these things not pretty much what he existed for (as much as his faith wavered and went off the rails at times)? Was that not the main source of any real purpose he ever had, being a kid who showed practically no ambition before? Did he not pretty much redesign himself as being ‘from Mt. Myōboku’ rather than Konoha after two devastating wars, and thus is it not understandable for him not to focus solely on Konoha—not outright destroying it, still ultimately loyal to his home and not about to let anyone destroy it, but seeing that the world is in fact so much bigger than just his little town? Is that really something that’s so bad and wrong of him, in a story where the main cast’s country has a pretty fucking nasty system and is established to do so very early on? Is he not pretty revolutionary in his own brand of not blindly serving, but not going on a destroy-it-all frenzy either?
Also, was he not the only one who actually bothered to investigate Akatsuki and the forces that would see Naruto dead, in time? For all he did help bring Akatsuki into existence in ways, it was inevitable from before he even met the orphans that they were going to be groomed/moulded into what they became, regardless of whether Jiraiya came onto the scene. Jiraiya leaving them was just a different kind of suffering to what they were inevitably going to suffer anyway, and hell, with his influence at least there was a time where they might’ve stood a chance of going totally against Madara/Obito’s path, especially while Yahiko was still around. Jiraiya didn’t know that the whole thing with the Ame orphans was, by a design out of his control, doomed to end horribly. So while he felt personally responsible not knowing this, and it’s taken as a given that he was... actually, was he, when there was a master manipulator at play? Was it wrong to want to give some kids a chance?
With regards to all those things I see people say he should have stayed and fixed, that he should have been there, he should have done x y z... Is it not the responsibility of everyone not satisfied with their lot to step up to the plate and make where they live better? Jiraiya wasn’t the only adult. Tsunade, and I absolutely love her, does seem overwhelmingly to be absolved of leaving Konoha because... ??? Kicker is that she too is related to Naruto, of course. 
So... was she not also needed for the very material ways she could’ve helped at numerous points? Was she not also placing her grief and lost love before everything else? Are some reasons inherently more ok than others to ditch? As Kakashi’s generation grew up, was it not also then up to them to decide whether they’d change the status quo? Were Minato’s own generation, presumably his own peer group, not complicit in Naruto’s ostracisation? We got a slight taste of rebellion with Asuma, Hiruzen’s own son, but the fact is many Konoha-nin were overwhelmingly complacent with how things were. And yet never get demonised at all for it. Because it’s Jiraiya’s fault for... not staying and giving it all up to be a guardian who could well be depressed and unfit to raise a child... or just being a flaky as hell one that’s never there anyway because he has shit to do? (and in doing the former would let too many things go unchecked by a completely tuned-out Hokage, not gathering all that spicy useful intel, y’know... essentially he wouldn’t have ended up largely doing his job along with the personal shit in between).
Basically when I see claims saying that Jiraiya as an individual should have done pretty much everything better, and somehow been there for everyone that needed him at any given time, and that (mostly Naruto’s) suffering was a failing on Just His part because of his selfish whims... I feel like the point of his tragedy is absolutely missed. That tragedy being that barrelling through things alone is definitely a failing and harmful in numerous ways, as we see with Itachi shouldering everything alone too, and we see them both miss out on Naruto and Sasuke as a result... but at the same time, is just settling down and leaving everything else to chance not also a huge failing, when there are so many other circumstances and enemies acting against you, when you do have the power to change tides, and when so many other people refuse to or can’t seize their own agency? Jiraiya does put his faith in a lot of people too, and a lot of people fail. Don’t fail him, but in a general sense many, like Minato, fail to make the change they wanted to. That’s life in this world, it’s tragic, and after losing a lot of loved ones yeah, he retreats and goes at it alone. 
But how can he win? How does he do what’s right, other than by chasing what he thinks he can do to actually help the world, which happens to be bigger and not centred on individuals, even those he cares about?
(and remember, nobody knows Naruto is special-reincarnation-prophecy-boi, which is why I tend not to blame-game any characters for him being treated like so many orphans were because... while it’s not morally right or nice at all, it’s tone deaf to how the world is, to the fact all characters having different degrees of knowledge and priorities, and it’s insensitive of the fact most the characters had their own struggles and were just doing their best with a bad lot gdi). 
Hell though, Jiraiya even does put Oro, his big obsessive wild goose chase that whisks him away into selfish pining hopelessly devoted land, on the back burner at points. Maybe not in a lasting way, particularly by the last databook where he’s inspired anew by Naruto, but he does prioritise other shit on numerous occasions. And there’s a lot of shit to try and prioritise.
What I’m trying to say is, Jiraiya can’t solely be held responsible for people. Sure, he’s a character whose decisions were pivotal to events, but what of every other character in the story? Why are they not held to the same crazy high standard of doing and protecting and preventing and somehow doing everything ‘right’ that would have also meant him fitting neatly into the Konoha mould? Would other characters really have been that much better in the position of The Big Guide/Martyr/Tragic Hero/Force For Change character? And also is having a tragic Chaotic Good bastard of a hero not a sign of a damn good and interesting character, that at the very least tried where so many others didn’t? Would Naruto not have been a boring as hell story, whose main protag didn’t really have much conflict to make him compelling, without Jiraiya (among others) being a mess with the best intentions? Without so many other characters having failed him, for him to overcome it and still be able to love and inspire change (albeit through sometimes-clumsy talk-no-jutsu)? Was I missing the point of the story?
............. Hmm!
No longer sure where else I’m going with this now, so.... here, I guess, ends my ode to why character hate (especially that reduces them to One Thing) is dumb, why demonising truly well-meaning characters doesn’t feel particularly woke to me in a cast full of flawed characters and horrible circumstance, and why I’ll defend this poor bastard with far too damn much hinging on him to the end I guess :’)
TL;DR HE’S A DUMBASS AND HE TRIED, OKAY?!
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imaginesupply · 4 years ago
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Homecoming - Chapter Six
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(I know it's Henry and not Sy in the photo, but it just fit too well with this chapter.)
Summary: The day has arrived, Captain Syverson is going home. For good, this time. He is going home to a civilian life he can hardly remember and a wife he barely knows, with memories of the war still fresh on his mind. Love might not be able to heal everything on its own, but it’s a good start.
Genres: Romance, drama.
Story warnings: Smut (always fully consensual), mentions of PTSD and nightmares and mental health, angst, hurt and comfort, fluff, mentions of war (minor), mentions of cheating (minor), mentions of pregnancy (very minor), police appearance (very minor), violence (very minor).
Notes:
It’s my first time writing for one of Henry’s characters and I’m unsure I did Sy’s character any justice.
This is a Capt. Syverson x OFC (Ada) story, written in 3rd person POV but OFC’s physical description is very limited so it could also be read as Capt. Syverson x Reader, I think.
English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. Proofread, but not beta’ed. We die like men and all that.
Timeline is a little wacky: The movie takes place in 2003 and the U.S. forces were withdrawn from Iraq in 2011, but I never set a precise date because I don’t think it’s essential for this story. However, some elements might not be realistic because if we set this story in 2003: Phone cameras quality was not as good as it’s now, but for the purpose of the chapters, I will need you to imagine you could film great videos with your flip phone haha. Plus, it says Sy is coming back after being deployed for more than three years which makes no sense unless we set this in 2006 or later. I am asking you disregard any time inconsistencies.
Also: I am not American. I only lived in the US for six months and it was in the Midwest, not Texas so please bear with me if I write something stupid.
Finally: This will be a Christmas fic and I intend to post the last chapter (there will be seven in total) on or before Christmas. However, religion is never mentioned in this story and the Christmas-sy elements of this story are limited to family gathering, gift giving and tree decorating.
Chapter Six starts after the cut. (Chapter Five can be found here.) Let me know if you wish to be tagged in the last chapter or if you wish to be removed from the tag list.
I will post a master list soon and put the link in the comments to make it easier to navigate.
Chapter 6
Chapter warnings: Smut, Christmas themes, mentions of therapy, embarrassing moments.
Ada didn't mind being woken up with soft fluttering kisses on her neck. She definitely didn't mind starting the day with the tantalizing rub of his beard on her sensitive skin and the hard press of his torso against her back, their legs entwined and his morning erection nuzzled against her butt.
What she did mind, however, was when any of this happened at the butt crack of dawn. Ada opened her eyes just enough to read 6:50am on the alarm clock.
"Sy," she groaned, stopping his wandering hands with hers, trying to trap them beneath her breasts. "Hold that thought for later, okay?"
She heard him chuckle behind her, his chest vibrating against her body as he freed his hands from her weak grip. "Later is for putting up the Christmas tree and the decorations," he teased, his right hand now drawing circles low on her stomach.
Ada groaned again, wanting to fight his tempting touch but unwilling to move away from his body heat. "I'll get up at 7:30." Those were the last words out of her mouth before she had drifted off again.
When she woke up once more, forty minutes later with the blast of her alarm clock, her back was cold and the smell of breakfast wafted through the air, filling her nostrils. Damn Syverson and his military sleep schedule! She had taken all her days off to spend them with him only to wake up even earlier than when she was working.
With barely open eyes, Ada threw on his shirt that hung on the chair and slowly made her way downstairs, following the scent of pancakes. She found Sy in front of the stove, just finishing up the last one before setting it on the huge pile of pancakes that looked fluffier than clouds. Ada had quickly learnt that while Sy was a disaster when it came to the art of cooking, he was the master of pancakes and barbecue.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," he greeted her and then smirked when he noticed her attire.
"Morning captain," she mumbled, walking up to him before patiently waiting until he leant down so that they could share a kiss. It always made him laugh when she did that: the adorable pout on her face when he didn't bend down for a kiss fast enough was worth waiting the extra second every time.
They ate in relative silence, mostly because Ada definitely wasn't a morning person, but the fact that Sy had a habit of stuffing his mouth full of food also played a role. When she was done eating, Ada pushed her plate and glass away, and brought her knees up to her chest, hugging her legs on the chair. She eyed her husband intently, waiting for him to finish eating with a grin on her lips.
"Why are you looking at me like that, darlin'?" Sy asked, eyebrow raised suspiciously before taking the last sip of his morning coffee.
Ada blushed, suddenly looking bashful. "Well… I was hoping we could go back upstairs and continue what you started earlier," she admitted in a tiny voice.
Sy laughed, a booming sound that filled the entire room before a shit-eating grin spread on his lips. "Tough luck, darlin'." He got up from his chair, standing in front of her across the narrow table. "Should have thought about that before falling asleep on me earlier."
Ada's mouth fell open. The cheek on this man! And what made it worse, was his huge smile that made him look like a very amused bear, with his hairy, tempting chest. He was toying with her. "Are you really saying no to sex?" She asked, cocking her brow. Sy wasn't really the type to turn down-
"Yes, no sex." He stated, suddenly looking very serious. "We have to head to the store to buy decorations, then put up the tree and hang the lights outside." Ada tried her best not to laugh. He sounded as if he were explaining a major, life or death, mission to her – not Christmas preparations. "You’re dismissed but I expect you back here in fifteen minutes, dressed and ready to go." With that, he turned around and started gathering the plates and silverware to put them in the dishwasher.
"Yes, sir."
Ada knew better than to talk back. First, when he had something in mind, it was nearly impossible to talk him out of it. Second, she hoped that the sooner they were done with this, the sooner she could get laid. Third, he had used his Captain voice that somehow always managed to make an obedient little soldier out of her.
Though, rationally, she also didn't want to make it any more difficult for him. He had confessed to her a few nights ago why he'd felt so uneasy when they had gone grocery shopping: the gondolas were too tall which led to lots of blind spots and the amount of people meant he couldn't rely on his hearing sense to detect potential danger. 'It just screams ambush,' he told her.
Ada couldn't quite imagine what he must have experienced that a supermarket or a store would translate into danger, but it was not her place to question him. Instead, she had kissed his forehead in bed and offered to start doing their shopping on her own. Sy had promptly refused, suggesting they simply go early in the mornings, when there were less people and less distracting noises.
Now at Target, she was immensely glad she had gotten out of bed, the sight alone was worth it. It wasn't everyday you'd see Sy pick up a bunch of Christmas tree baubles and inspect each one of them carefully before determining which ones were worthy enough to make it to their living room. Ada sneaked a picture for safekeeping and then decided to send it to his mom as well. Family dinner was fast-approaching, and she'd seize all the cookie points she could get.
"Darlin'," Sy called, catching her attention. He was holding up an inflatable Santa who, instead of carrying gifts, dragged a bag full of liquor bottles and sported a drunk grin on his face. It was tacky beyond words. "Do 'you think we should get this, or will it just upset the neighborhood kids?"
Ada grimaced but tried to disguise it with a smile. She’d die before letting that thing on their lawn. “I think a neighborhood dog would tear it to bits within a second," she lied, trying to appear apologetic.
"Yeah, you're probably right."
°°°
The lights were up. It was a much quicker process with Sy's help. It was also the occasion for Ada to just sit back and relax because he was adamant, she shouldn’t step on a ladder to help. Instead, she had a glass of bourbon waiting for him for when he finished. It was 5pm somewhere after all.
"You said we had a tree!" Sy's deep voice reached her from the basement.
Ada threw her head back, sighing, before hurrying downstairs after him. "Yes, it's in that box over there," she pointed at a white cardboard box behind a couple of spare tires.
"Woman, it's tiny!" Sy complained, picking up the box and setting it down between them. It was about as tall as her. It was not that small.
"It's the one I've used every year since I moved in. It's pretty enough and doesn't take up too much space,” she defended.
In front of her, Sy exhaled loudly through his nostrils before rubbing his beard. She knew that move. It's what he did to remind himself she was not a soldier under his command, but his wife, and that he better measure his words unless he wanted to sleep on the sofa.
"Look, darlin'," he said calmly, enclosing her small hands in his much bigger ones. "This is my first Christmas home with my wife. I refuse to put up a minuscule, fake sapling in my home and call it a Christmas tree."
Ada was slightly taken aback. She didn’t know Christmas was this important to him. Though it was true he had been overseas on Christmas the past two years, so she could understand where he was coming from with wanting this Christmas to matter. Besides, it was endearing when he put it like that.
With a nibble on her lip, Ada gave in. "Okay. They're selling trees in that parking lot by the pharmacy."
Sy slowly shook his head, a mischievous look on his face. "No. We're going to get our own pine tree from the woods."
You gotta be kidding me, she groaned internally.  
°°°
Ada had no idea where they were. It hadn’t been that long of a ride, but there were no more houses or streets to be seen around them, just endless fields and a forest. It was only when Sy took a right turn, that she started spotting cars and what looked to be a very colorful barn which had been converted into a cozy boutique.
“Where are we?” She asked, staring out of the window as Sy looked for a place to park his truck.
“The Dallagher’s ranch,” he replied. “They do a corn maze and a pumpkin patch in the Fall, and in the Winter, you can pick up your own Christmas tree. My dad used to take Claire and I here every year.”
Oh… This was a family tradition. No wonder Sy made such a big deal about having a real tree for Christmas.
Once out of the car, they walked hand in hand through the dirt road until they reached the makeshift counter made of hay where you could get a handcart before heading out into the man-made pine forest and select a Christmas tree. Most people she saw, however, were already returning the handcarts and happily carrying their trees to their parked cars.
The old man by the cash register seemed to recognize Sy instantly, smiling warmly as he greeted him with a one-armed hug. Ada realized it was the ranch’s owner. “I haven’t seen you in years, Jack!” The old man exclaimed with a laugh before turning to Ada. “And who’s this pretty lady?”
“This is Ada, my wife,” Sy said, introducing them. He watched with amusement as Ada stumbled as the old man hugged her without a warning, taking her by surprise.
“Well, it’s great to meet you, Ada,” the man nodded once he had retreated, and then turned back to Sy. “Should I be offended I wasn’t invited to the wedding?” He teased.
Sy was already wrapping his arm around her shoulders, chuckling. “To be honest, Dallagher, there were no guests at the wedding,” he replied, amused at the way the old man frowned in a confused manner at that piece of information. “Actually, we came here to get a tree.”
“Of course!” Dallagher immediately turned and ordered the young boy in overalls to fetch them a handcart. “What size did you have in mind?”
“Something around seven feet,” Sy said, looking pensive as Ada looked up at him suspiciously, trying to figure out how much seven feet converted to in the metric system. Once she’d done the math, she pulled at Sy’s flannel sleeve to protest – that was way too big, it’d take up the whole living room – but the Dallagher’s grandson was already handing them the cart and leading them to the entrance.
“Trees that big are at the very back of the forest, you’ll have to walk a little.”
This turned out to be quite an understatement. Ada felt like they had been walking for literal years. While they had still come across other people at the beginning, mostly families, they were on their own now – that is if you didn’t count the many squirrels that kept appearing out of nowhere.
She stopped, grabbing the back of Sy’s red tartan shirt so he would be forced to pause as well. “Can’t we just take one of these?” Ads suggested, gesturing at the countless trees all around them. They were all pretty enough and considerably taller than her.
Sy huffed, biting his lip in amusement as he looked at her dispirited face. He’d told her she should probably get changed and wear more comfortable shoes before they left home, but she had insisted she wasn’t going to change clothes just to get a goddamn tree. “These are only around six feet, darlin’. And,” he paused, eyeing the trees more closely, “they’re not Nordmann firs. I want a Nordmann.”
Ada sighed defeatedly, but nodded all the same, starting to walk again when Sy took pity on her. “Do you want to sit on the handcart?”
The change on his wife’s face was instant, the frown lifting into a smile as she climbed on the cart and sat down in the middle, evening out her weight for him. “Is that better, darlin?” He asked teasingly.
She turned her head back just to make sure he saw her rolling her eyes.
By the time they reached an area with Nordmann trees that Sy considered nice and big enough, her butt was sore from the conjunction of the hard, wooden surface and the uneven ground. She wasn’t even sure she had made the better call or whether it would have been better to suffer in her new ankle boots instead.
“Which one is better?” Sy asked, pointing at two pine trees that looked virtually identical to her.
Ada shrugged, almost saying that he should choose before realizing how much time that would take. The man wasn’t picky about food, bedlinen or even the pillow he slept with, but apparently, he had to make sure he brought home the most perfect tree. She still couldn’t wrap her head around that. “The left one,” she said finally.
“Which one? Your left or my left?”
Breathing in deeply, she decided to just point at the tree she was talking about. Sy nodded thoughtfully and grabbed the saw he had brought with him and started to work on the tree. While she had been most eager to get this whole thing over with, it became an entirely different story now as she dreamily stared at her husband getting to work.
With most of his back facing her and one knee on the forest’s soft ground as he started sawing off the Nordmann fin, Sy looked absolutely delicious. The red flannel shirt unbuttoned over his white t-shirt and the jeans made him perfect sight with anyone with a lumberjack fantasy. Ada had never considered herself as having such a kink. A uniformed soldier, or even better, a captain? Hell yes. A strong, rugged husband capable of her breaking her in half? Also a big yes. A lumberjack? The thought had never crossed her mind in the past but there was no point in denying it now as she sat back on the wooden cart, watching Sy carefully saw down the giant tree.
She was wet. Horny. Aroused. You name it. It also didn’t help that they hadn’t had sex that day. Yet.
"Sy," she whined, just loud enough to get his attention, while swinging her legs in the air like a child.
"I'm almost done, darlin'," Sy responded, not bothering to turn around to look at her. "I want a nice, clean cut."
Yeah, and she want a nice, dirty fuck. Pouting, she watched him for a couple more seconds as he knelt in front of the base of the tree, deciding from which side he should bring the saw to the trunk next in order to make it even.
That was when Ada decided she was tired of waiting. Shuffling quietly, she slipped off her wet panties from under her dress and rolled them into a small ball before throwing it at her husband. It hit his left shoulder and rolled down his chest. Grinning wickedly, she leaned back on her shoulders and enjoyed the view, the muscles on his back shifting as he picked up the garment off the ground. If this didn't get her laid, nothing else would.
"Ada Metz Syverson," Sy groaned out her full name slowly, his voice even deeper than usual. He got back up on his feet and turned to face her, looking stern.
Suddenly she didn't feel so brave anymore, not when he had crossed the distance to her in two determined strides and went to tower over her small, sitting frame. His jaw was set, and his eyes were a darker shade of blue than usual. Ada moved her eyes down his body, her eyes pausing at the defined pectorals on his chest before sliding lower. He was definitely hard, the bulge on his jeans prominent.
"Just remember you asked for this."
She wanted to ask what this was supposed to be, but he didn’t give her the chance. “Legs,” he ordered, patting his shoulder as he came to stand just inches away from her. Almost unconsciously, she obeyed his order, her ankles coming to rest on the front of his shoulders, her feet framing his neck. “That’s a good girl,” he praised her with a quick kiss to her right calf before his large hands moved to the front of his jeans, just over the protruding tent and began undoing the belt and snap.
From this angle, Sy’s cock looked even bigger, the shiny glans flushed a deep pink. Ada swallowed tightly, her legs already shaking with anticipation and he hadn’t even touched her yet. Pumping his shaft with his right hand, Sy brought his left one to her core, rubbing the rough pad of his thumb over clit once or twice before sliding it between her folds. She was a dripping mess. Sy smirked when she keened eagerly at his touch, enjoying his ministrations until he pulled his hand away and brought it to his mouth, licking off her slick. “It’s good you’re so wet already because I just can’t wait to take you, darlin’.”
He wasn’t lying when he said he couldn’t wait. The next thing he did, was grabbing hold of his throbbing, hard cock and guiding himself into her. Ada moaned loudly at the intrusion, drowning out Sy’s own growl as her walls clenched around his cock, trying to get used to the abruptness and depth of the penetration.
“Fuck, Sy!” She cried out, not even sure what it was she wanted. “Don’t stop,” was all she could muster as he ploughed into her like there was no tomorrow, hitting her pleasure all at once.
He knew they were being too loud. They might be alone, but they were still out in the open air, and yet he just couldn’t find it in himself to care – not when she felt this good around his cock and her noises only heightened his fervor. If someone happened to stumble upon them, then they’d simply be in for a premium show,
It wasn’t long until her legs started shaking almost uncontrollably up in the air, prompting him to remove one hand from his steely grip on her hip and wrap his arms around her legs to keep them steady as he continued with jackhammer thrusts. “Are you going to cum for me, darlin’?” Sy panted, groaning out the question between clenched teeth even though he already knew the answer.
Ada didn’t manage to reply, the first waves of her orgasm already coursing through her when she moaned his name. Her hips canted up, her body tensed up like a bolt, and Sy knew he was done for right then. Her warm walls squeezed him impossibly tight inside of her, milking the cum right out of his cock while he fought to keep his balance as pleasure overtook him.
They came down from their heights slowly, chests heaving. Sy lazily removed her legs from his shoulders, massaging the strained muscles on her inner thighs before he set her legs down. This woman would be the end of him. “That was…” he panted, bending forward over her body to kiss her forehead, unable to find a proper adjective to describe what had just happened.
“Yeah,” Ada breathed out, nodding slowly.
Sy ended up having to carry her and the tree on the cart back to his truck because there was no way she was able to walk straight after that.
°°°
They finished decorating the giant tree. Ada had to admit it looked pretty although the red and gold decorations clashed with the color theme of their living room. She handed Sy the newly purchased baubles one by one – he was the only one capable of reaching the top.
On their way back home, she had somehow managed to convince Sy to stop at the therapist’s office – the one she had found had the highest ratings on Google. They had booked the first available appointment, which was just after the New Year and Sy had made it very clear to their secretary it was just a ‘testing appointment’ and that there was no need to set aside time slots for follow-up sessions yet because there was no guarantee he’d be back. His reluctance was palpable, but Ada was glad he was giving it a try at least. And if he didn’t like, then they’d figure out something else.
In the background, their wedding video kept playing and she wondered for how much longer she'd have to hear the sound of camera flashes as the chapel assistant took way too many photos of them in the most cliché poses you could imagine. Sy has insisted they put on their wedding video since they’d never gotten around to watch it and it fit the season, according to him. Slowly, the annoying sounds began fading away and Ada sighed with relief. Watching herself on TV sparked too much embarrassment in her.
"Hand me the big one with Rudolph, will you, darlin'," Sy asked from behind her, still meticulously decorating the tree.
Ada nodded, searching for the bauble he had in mind. It was still in the shopping bag, she remembered, lifting it off the floor to dig inside it.
Ada froze as a female chuckle was heard, unconsciously gripping the glass ornament too tightly in her hand. "Not that fast, Captain."
Behind her, Sy frowned. "What did you say?"
"Tonight, I'm in charge," she heard her own voice say - no, it was more like a purr.
"Shit!" Ada cursed loudly, letting the bauble fall back inside the bag and she hurried to the TV, her worst fear confirmed.
Sy followed her quickly, stopping just behind her, his hands on her shoulders. "Is that from our wedding night?" He asked slowly, his eyes locked on the screen as he watched his younger self being tied up to the bedposts by his wife.
"Yes," Ada cringed, her face a painful grimace. "I didn't even remember the sex tape."
"Me neither," Sy swallowed loudly, admittedly rapidly becoming aroused at the sight of his Ada doing a striptease on camera. She wore that red ensemble with the garter belt.
"I think the assistant never really ended the video after our wedding, only paused it and we later continued filming in the hotel instead of starting a new video," Ada commented, now understanding what had happened. How they’d even came up with the idea of filming a sex tape on their wedding night, she didn't know. Alcohol had probably played a part in it.
Sy was still staring in awe at the TV, enthralled by the sight of his wife deviously edging him, her hips swaying slowly, when her words slowly registered in his head. "Didn't we send copies of the video to our families?" He stammered, his voice uncharacteristically quiet and hesitant.
Silence fell between them as they both realized they had been dumb enough to send copies before watching it themselves. "Fuck!" Ada barked, seizing the remote to pause the video. "We sent that to my parents, your parents, your sister...," she listed, her face losing all color.
Suddenly, the sound of Sy's deep laughter filled her ears. She turned to him, aghast. How could he find this funny? This was peak cringe! She’d be one needing therapy after this!
"You know, darlin', watching this video was the first time my parents ever saw their daughter-in-law, before even meeting you in person." Sy explained, shaking his head with amusement.
Ada was mortified. No wonder Mr. Syverson had seemed on the verge of laughter the first time they'd met and Helen had given her the side eye. The woman had a USB stick in her home with an hour-long video of Ada fucking her son. "You know, Sy, this wedding video is also the first thing my parents saw of you." He stopped laughing abruptly, his face red, all amusement gone.
They both sat down on the couch next to each other, slowly coming to terms with the fact that pretty much their whole families had seen this, and never said anything, probably keeping it as an inside joke.
Sy broke the silence, his large hand reaching to rub her naked thigh. "You know, I don't think we should be embarrassed," he said, prompting her to stare back up at him, eyebrow raised dubiously. "The way you tied up my arms really enhanced my biceps and you looked adorably hot like a vicious kitten from hell."
°°°
@colourmeinblue​ @hail-horror-queen​ @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl​ @kmuir1​ @madbaddic7ed​ @coffeebreathy​ @purplelove75​ @summersong69​ @helenaellie​ @rn7rocks​ 
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bi-the-way-i-love-bunnies · 4 years ago
Text
(In which Draco can’t cook to save his life au along with a dash of Christmas spirit)
Drarry drabble ~ 10/19 ~ about 3.5k
“Pansy.” Smoke was starting to crowd the room. Said girl remained oblivious as she scrolled through her phone. 
“Pansy.” The flame on the stove got bigger than Draco would have liked. He debated on using an Aguamenti, but wait, didn’t that weird muggle cookbook warn something about  using water with an open flame? Regardless he wasn’t taking any chances. Pansy, the cow, only gave a small hmm and continued on with whatever she was doing. 
“PANSY!” Ok that was it, he put a protective bubble around the stove just in a nick of time. He looked at the pot that started to burn inside the blazing inferno. And it has been a housewarming gift from Mrs. Weasley too. Regardless, he allowed himself a small moment of relief for dealing with one of the many problems that happened in the kitchen today. Small mercies he supposed. And that’s when the fire alarm started beeping persistently. 
In a frenzy, he tried putting up a silencio charm, but it kept wavering and wearing off. His spells never did work well when he was worked up in a mood. The smoke was fogging up the kitchen more than ever now too, much to Draco’s dismay. Harry was not going to be happy about the lingering smell later. 
The timer on the counter started going off signaling that the roast in the oven was done. At the same time the small pot next to the bubble charm of heat started to over boil due to his neglect when dealing with everything else. 
“Oh for fuck’s sake Draco,” Pansy finally looked up from her phone. She quickly casted her own silencing spell and vanished the smoke in the air. Right...now that his main problems were dealt with he quickly got to attending the roast. He put on those ridiculous Chudley Cannon mitts gifted by Ron from last Christmas (why they never got to replacing these hideously bright orange mitts he’ll never know) and got to work. He was pleasantly surprised to see that the roast looked exactly like it was supposed to in the muggle cookbook, a large victory in his disastrous attempts at cooking. 
He lifted it out of the oven planning to get it onto the counter quickly when the large pan collided with the edge of the oven door. It all happened too quickly, but one moment everything was perfectly fine and the next the pan shifted way too far right and his perfectly cooked roast stumbled onto the floor!
“Shit!” Draco cursed and ran to the counter to grab a napkin when he slipped onto the floor, his arse landing in the sauce used to marinate the meat. 
“You know when I asked you to help me I didn't mean for you to just sit on your arse scrolling through that muggle device of yours,” Draco glared.
Pansy rolled her eyes but took pity on him as she waved her wand to clean up the mess on the floor minus the roast. 
“Should we try Scourgifying it?” 
Like that would help save dinner, he sighed. Not to mention it was unhygienic and Harry would throw a fit if he found out. 
“Just vanish it, it’s useless anyways.” She nodded and a second later the roast was gone.
“At least you’ll have the creme brulee. And the potatoes,” she spared a glance at the pot that was overboiling a minute prior before grimacing. “Ok, maybe not the potatoes but who needs dinner when you have dessert anyways.” 
“Watch it turn out just as well as everything else,” he remarked and got up from the floor to check what was left of his cooking attempts. 
He went to the fridge to check on the little ramekins. Earlier they looked fine, but knowing his luck he’d have to test it before serving. 
Pansy handed him a spoon as he dug in and took a bite. A moment later was all it took and he quickly rushed over to the sink and spat it out. 
“Pansy, did you use salt instead of the sugar earlier?” It was one of the only times Pansy decided to help in the kitchen. She reasoned earlier that if she was going to help, at least it would be on the dish that requires the least amount of effort. 
She shrugged and took a bite of Draco’s neglected creme brulee before making a face. “Well...they did both look the same. And they’re in matching containers, Draco, what did you expect!”
“I just wanted to make a good dinner this year,” he sighed in defeat. Each year their friend group always got together and drew straws to see who’s house they were going to for Christmas dinner. Everytime he and Potter hosted, the Gryffindor prat would always suggest going to that all night buffet around Ron and Hermione’s place. 
“Hey, it’s all you can eat, saves the hassle of cooking, and they give war veterans discounts.” 
Draco couldn’t really argue against that and so they all went last year. He had to admit that the food was pretty good, but there was something about a nice home cooked meal on Christmas night that you just couldn’t replicate. 
Draco learned long ago that Harry simply did not cook. Not that Draco was judging, since he couldn’t cook as well. He’d rather leave that to the house elves, thank you very much. However, the difference between the two was that Draco was willing to try on the occasions where they had free time. Also, he was rather curious about the recipes Pansy was always going on about. Harry just usually shook his head each time and suggested they order take out. And in the three years that they have been together, two since they moved into a rather spacious flat at the heart of muggle London, he just accepted his boyfriend’s answer without ever looking into it. He just couldn’t be arsed about doing all the prep work and washing up afterwards. 
This Christmas though, they got picked again, and he’ll be damned if Potter thought they could just go to that buffet place again. So the night beforehand when he told Harry he was making dinner this year, the git just laughed and wished him good luck. 
“You had house elves your whole life, Draco. And cooking isn’t as easy as it appears on the telly.” 
So Draco set to work that morning to prove Harry wrong, starting even before the git left for work. But hours later and now he was here with a nearly burnt flat, no food to show, and a really smelly kitchen. Oh yeah, and there was Pansy being no help at all. 
He supposed if he hurried, he could use magic to make the food instead of relying on the muggle way. But apparently magic took away the flavor, according to Potter and after the day he had, he just wanted to give up. Suddenly the buffet idea was starting to sound appealing again. But screw him, he just wanted a nice dinner this year and at least he tried! The same couldn’t be said about his arse of a boyfriend, no matter how much he loved him. 
He looked at the mess he made before grabbing his wand. No need for the flat to stay in this state before Harry got home. 
“Right. Help me start cleaning Pans.” Reluctantly, she did what she was told. 
The two set to work for an hour or two before the floo flared up and Harry entered their flat. 
“Hey,” he greeted Draco with a quick kiss before turning to Pansy and giving her a small peck on the cheek. 
“How was he today?” he asked her as he started to take off the outer layer of his auror robes. 
She rolled her eyes, “As great as you’d expect a Malfoy to be in the kitchen.” 
“Hey! I’ll have to remind you two that I was brilliant at potions. My skills are not that abominable.” 
Pansy gave him a look before moving on. “Don’t mind him being such a twat, Potter. He’s just sad that everything he made didn’t turn out to be on the same scale as Mrs. Weasley’s.” She took her coat off the coat rack before making her way towards the floo. 
“Ta dears. See you in two days,” she took a handful of floo powder before giving the couple one last glance. “And Draco darling. The day hasn’t been a total bust. It was just as entertaining as I thought it’d be.” She gave him a wink and then she was gone. 
“Tosser,” he muttered, a tad too fondly if the look Harry was giving him was to go by. 
“Are you sure you don’t want to order from a deli or something,” Harry wrapped his arms around Draco. “It could even be from that expensive place on Bulbadox Avenue that you like so much. I checked and they’ll be open.” 
Draco rolled his eyes before returning Harry’s hug and relaxing in his lover’s embrace. 
“We could save that as a backup plan or something, but I’m planning to make a better meal tomorrow.” Not that he’d think he’d do any better. 
Harry snorted. “We found out you’re shit at cooking, just like the majority of us knew. Why don’t we spend the next day doing something relaxing. We could go and visit the market place near Diagon Alley. When it’s dark all the lights would be really pretty, and Hannah says they have a spectacular light display this year.” 
“Alright,” he agreed, “We could go later after I get our flat ready for our guests.” 
Harry pulled back a bit and made a face. “Are you sure? No offense Draco, but judging from what Pansy said I really don’t think you should waste your breath.” 
“I’m quite sure, Potter.” And they left it at that. 
The next day’s attempts were as disastrous as the first one’s. However, Harry definitely knew a lot more than Pansy and tried containing the damage as best as he could. 
“Wait! Draco, put that on simmer.” 
“Hold on! Don’t peel like that! You don’t want to take off a chunk of skin.”
“Draco! Oh God, where is the baking soda!” 
And so the fire department came after their neighbors called. That was a fun exchange to watch as he saw Harry stumble through explanations on what happened, his face rivaling Ron’s hair. 
By the end of the afternoon they were both exhausted. But since it was Christmas Eve they decided to go to the marketplace just like they planned. Draco was glad they decided to go, as he found out that Hannah wasn’t exaggerating. The light display was truly spectacular this year. 
He walked with Potter hand in hand as they made their way around different booths. They ended up buying an assortment of jams, cheese, and bread seeing how that one bread booth had some quite delicious samples. 
They were making the last of their rounds around the giant fountain at the center of the square when he overheard a family talking about their plans to make a special Christmas dinner the next day. He felt the tiniest sense of disappointment as he remembered his failed attempts earlier. 
“Penny for your thoughts?” Harry asked as they passed by a ginormous Christmas tree lit up with streams of garland and fairy lights. If you looked closely you could see some actual fairies dancing around the branches. The sight put a smile on Draco’s face. 
“Just thinking about Christmas dinner. I really wanted to make something special this year.” 
“Oh,” he could hear the frown in Potter’s tone, “But I thought you’d rather not deal with the hassle. Not to mention all our friends are coming by and I know how much you hate it when the flat’s a mess. Specifically since we know how Ron gets when he starts with the firewhiskey.” Draco shrugged.
“I think I’m just being nostalgic about it,” he mused. “I know you don’t talk about your childhood all that much, but during Christmas time at the manor, mother and father would always gather all their Pureblood friends and all the elves would prepare the best meal to impress all the guests. There’s just something special about having a meal like that, despite some people insisting that buffet food is just fine.” 
Harry let out a small grin. “Yeah, sorry about that. Last year was the last time, promise.” 
The teasing tone was familiar between the two of them, yet it didn’t last long before Harry drifted deep in thought. 
“It’s not that I don’t like cooking, it’s just- well. I’m rather shit at talking about these things,” he untangled his hand from Draco’s and shoved it in his pockets. Draco let him, knowing his posture meant that he’s working his way to saying something important. 
“My aunt and uncle had meals like that too. They’d invite their friends and leave the children to play outside with Dudley while the adults talked. And Aunt Petunia...she always made sure I knew how to prepare for dinners like that. Sometimes I’d watch from the kitchen window and envy the kids playing in the yard.” 
It was much more than Harry told Draco beforehand that was for sure. They had their talks about the war and the effects it had on the both of them, but whenever they touched upon Harry’s childhood, he’d just explained that they were not the nice people who took them in as the public portrayed. He’d always left it at that saying that it was in the past. But now Harry was working up the courage to tell him specifics. It left a warm fuzzy feeling inside Draco’s chest and he extended an arm to touch Harry as a silent appreciation of trust. 
Slowly, Harry relaxed and intertwined their fingers again. 
“I choose not to cook mainly because I don’t have fond memories of doing it. My aunt would always have something to say, even though eventually I got pretty good at making food. She just did it out of habit, I think.” 
“Your family sounds like they were an arse.” They stopped walking and Draco turned to face Harry. “It’s alright if you’re not going to cook in the future. Just know that I love you and appreciate it that you’re choosing to share this with me.” 
He leaned in and the pair shared a nice slow kiss before parting and heading back. 
The next day, Harry was in charge of taking care of dinner, since Pansy flooed earlier asking for Draco’s help in some last minute shopping. 
“I swear Pans! Didn’t you learn anything from Christmas last year?” he huffed at the busy streets of Diagon Alley, “Melin, I’m not even sure if most of the shops are open!” 
So for the next few hours they went from shop to shop looking for Salazar knows what. Pansy was a very selective gift giver and everytime Draco made a suggestion she shot him down. 
“This is made with opals from Australia Pansy! I don’t understand how your friend would not like that!” 
“Hmm,” she browsed through the display cases in the shop, “I think she’d rather have a nice rock honestly. It doesn’t have to be Australian, but stones and crystals are rather in right now…” 
When it was time to go home he was feeling quite exacerbated with his friend. Pansy, in all their hours of shopping, only bought one object. 
“You still realize that I have a flat to set up right? And I’ll have to place a break proof charm on everything, knowing all the Gryffindors in our group.” Why couldn’t Harry be in Slytherin like the sorting hat wanted, honestly!  Pansy just gave him a small salute as they parted ways. Tosser. 
When he returned home, however, a delicious smell was coming from the kitchen. 
“Harry?” He made his way into the room and was greeted with the sight of his lover pulling out a roasting pan, fresh from the oven. His eyes widened as he looked over all the dishes on the countertop. The assortment of appetizers and side dishes made his mouth water. He honestly thought that Harry was going to order from the deli just like he planned, but this was by far a thousand times better. Suddenly he knew why Pansy dragged him out all afternoon. 
“I seriously can’t believe I didn’t see this sooner! Plotting with my best friend behind my back Potter? How Slytherin of you.” 
Harry laughed as he placed the roasting pan on the counter before taking away the aluminum foil on top revealing a nice baked ham. “Yeah, when I told her I wanted to surprise you she went for it straight away. She said she felt sorry for you the other day, and you should be glad she took pity upon you because now you have that dinner you wanted.” 
“That sounds like Pansy alright,” Draco rolled his eyes but let out a fond smile. He knew Harry revealed that he already had some culinary experience, but he hadn't anticipated this. Although now that he thought about it, if he had to go back to school and was told to recreate a calming draught potion, his muscle memory would guide him through it. It seemed like Harry hadn't lost his touch on cooking either. 
“Would you like a walk through the menu tonight?” Harry smiled as he set his oven mitts aside. 
Draco nodded as Harry pulled up the first appetizer. “So these are drunken peaches with bits of goat cheese and prosciutto tucked in phyllo pastry.”  
He presented another dish that looked like mini sandwiches with tiny toothpicks speared through. “Here’s some grilled peach caprese with mozzarella and basil topped with a basic balsamic.” 
He pulled up the salad bowl, “Fig salad with greens, goat cheese, and walnuts marinated with oil, vinegar, and honey.”
He moved on, “And here’s some roasted asparagus wrapped in prosciutto served with a hint of parmesan and drizzled with olive oil.” 
Draco couldn’t resist taking one and plopping it in his mouth. “You know that asparagus is my favorite.” 
Harry smiled fondly, “I know.”
He pulled up another plate, “That’s why I had to use it in another dish as well.” 
It was a smaller dish than the ones Harry showed him beforehand, yet it still looked amazing. “Smoked salmon with poached eggs, roasted asparagus, basil pesto, and dill topped with olive oil.” 
He pushed another plate forward. At the center was a type of bread surrounded with an assortment of crackers on the plate. “Baked brie and apricot preserves wrapped with puff pastry and a hint of honey.” 
Another dish, “Golden roasted potatoes with chopped garlic, rosemary, and other spices.” 
“Your classic mashed potatoes and gravy boat.” Harry winked, and Draco laughed. Harry really liked his potatoes, so it was no surprise that he’d prepare two types. 
“Then all we have left is the honey baked ham and dessert for later on.” He shrugged like he didn’t just make enough food to feed the whole Weasley clan. 
“Oh?” Draco prompted as he slid closer to his lover, “And what’s for dessert?” He gave him a heated look.
Harry easily accepted Draco’s embrace as he leaned in. 
“You could choose between a mini chocolate lava cake paired with a raspberry sorbet,” Harry teased the shell of his ear causing Draco to shiver before moving downwards, “or a vanilla chiffon cake with a fresh berry puree topped with a blueberry cream cheese frosting,” Harry muttered against his lips as he pulled Draco closer. Sweet Salazar, that shouldn’t have sounded better than the earlier dishes, but it did. 
Draco smirked, “And if I choose you?” 
Harry grinned, “That can be arranged.” 
Draco teasingly dragged his lips across Harry’s before connecting them sweet and slow. Things were just getting more heated when their floo flared. 
“Eww mate. I will never get used to that, ever,” Ron grimaced as Hermione came through behind him. Draco was really regretting their open floor plan right now, but accepted one last kiss from Harry before making their way over to greet their friends. 
“Honestly Ron. It’s been years,” she accepted a hug from her best friend. “Dinner smells lovely by the way.” 
“Yeah! Did Harry finally get to cooking or did you two find a new catering place or something,” the four of them moved into the kitchen. 
Draco raised an eyebrow. “You guys knew that Potter cooked?” 
“Well, there was that whole year we spent together in a tent,” Hermione replied, “Someone had to be the designated cooker, otherwise Ron would’ve gone insane.” 
“Hey!” Ron protested but didn’t disagree.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I finally got to cooking. But you should’ve seen when Draco attempted it at first!” 
“A Malfoy cooking? What, has the world finally come to an end or something,” Ron joked and earned a small nudge from Draco. 
“It really wasn’t that bad,” he protested but in truth, he knew it was. 
Harry smirked at him. “Did I tell you how the fire department came the other day? The neighbors were seriously concerned about Draco burning the apartment complex down.” 
“Shut up Potter!” 
Harry grinned and couldn’t help but challenge him. “Make me,” he moved closer. 
Ron let out a groan, “Ok Mione. Time to move back to the living room yeah?” 
Harry let out a laugh as he watched Hermione lecture Ron about letting them have their moment. 
He and Draco remained in the kitchen as they started to set up a bit more, waiting for their other guests to arrive, just enjoying each other’s company. 
“Harry,” Draco prompted after a while. 
“Yes Draco?” He looked up from the napkins he was just setting down. 
Draco smiled before placing the silverware down to join him. “Thanks for cooking for me.” He gave him a chaste kiss. 
When he pulled back Harry couldn’t help his reply, “Always.” 
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