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quintessenceofdust88 · 2 months ago

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Nonna Rosa fixes it

[Now on AO3!] Okayyy, it's officially not the weekend anymore, but only for like five minutes, so technically I'm on time! This got totally away from me, and I had to actually force myself to end it where I did. Nonna Rosa took the narrative from my hands and said 'I'll take it from here', and good for her. Not to be dramatic but I love her. Anyway, if any Italian-speaking people read this: I AM SO SORRY. This is all Collins dictionary or Google Translate, I don't speak a word of Italian and I'll be very glad to correct any mistakes you might notice ♥ I hope you guys enjoy it! if you want to know more about Nonna Rosa, send me an ask, I have looots of headcanons for her (and Tommy's childhood). Here you go:

A week after breaking up with Evan, Tommy is still feeling like shit. He can barely sleep, anything he tries to eat tastes like sawdust, and he feels like he’s living on autopilot. He goes to work, he comes back home, he tries to eat, he tries to sleep, rinse and repeat. Nothing else matters, there’s nothing else he feels like doing. He doesn’t answer Howie’s texts asking how he’s doing (he answered the first one, telling Howie not to worry about him, but can’t do more than that); he completely ignores Eddie’s invitation for Muay Thai and basketball, and he comes up with an excuse as to why he can’t make karaoke bar that Thursday. And yet, there’s one thing he can’t put off, as much as he wishes to: talking to his Nonna.

Tommy calls his grandmother at least once a week; she still lives in Indiana, in the same house he spent most of his childhood in, and he knows his uncle Bart visits often. But he likes to hear from her himself. Visiting her was a rare occasion, and the last time he was able to was about four months ago. The minute he had stepped in, Nonna had asked him if he was ‘innamorato’, because he was looking so much happier than usual.

And he knows she’ll perceive his sadness just as quick, if not quicker. The woman has always been able to read him like an open book. She’s probably the only person alive who can; he’s always made sure to keep his layers hidden from everyone else, even from…

Well. Doesn’t matter now, does it?

Fact is, that if he misses his call with Nonna, it’ll be even worse. She’ll know something’s up, and he doesn’t put past her to fly across the country to check on him (he’s always been the favorite grandson and everyone knows it). So it’s best to get it over with. With a heavy sigh, he sits down on his couch (and tries not to think about how empty it feels when it’s just him in there) and rings her up, bracing himself.

“Pronto? Tommasino?” She answers the call, as always with the camera too close to her face, and that at least brings a smile to his face.

“Nonna, you need to stretch your arm a little. Remember, like Charlie showed you?” He asks with a chuckle; Charlie being his cousin’s daughter, Charlotte, who taught Nonna how to FaceTime so she could ‘see Tommasino’s pretty face more often’, in her own words.

She stretches her arm and Tommy gets a good look at her. Nonna looks the same as always, sharp blue eyes in a soft face that’s wrinkled both from age and from a lifetime of smiles. Her hair is wrapped in hair rollers and tucked safely behind a red bandana. Tommy misses her fiercely, and wishes more than ever that he could get wrapped in one of her hugs.

They always did wonders for him when he was a little boy who used to climb trees and get scrapes and bruises; when he was a scared eleven-year-old missing his mother (and as a grown-up he can appreciate Nonna was hurting at least as much as him, having lost her daughter, but still never let it show) and dealing with an angry abusive father; when he was a scared eighteen-year-old, before leaving the only home he’d ever known to join the Army. And when he was a scared 33-year-old man, coming out as gay to his 75 year-old-grandmother, afraid of being rejected by the one person alive who truly loved him, and Nonna had stood on her tiptoes, pulled him into one of those hugs, and told him all she ever wanted for Tommy was to see him happy, and that she would always love him.

A hug from his grandmother had always made Tommy feel like the world was an easier place to be faced, and right now, that’s exactly what he needs. And his longing must show in his face, because she’s frowning at him, her eyes full of concern.

“Oh, Tommasino” She says softly. “What’s wrong, bambino mio? You look so sad” She asks, and to Tommy’s horror, he finds his eyes filling up. Nonna has that way of bringing out every emotion he tries to repress.

“Everything’s wrong, Nonna, and it’s all my fault” He blurts out before he can stop himself, and the look on his grandmother’s face tells Tommy she’d be placing a sizable plate of cake and a cup of strong coffee in front of him if she could.

“You have a habit of saying things are your fault even when they aren't, so I'm afraid I'll need the entire story, my boy” She says gently, and Tommy watches as she sits down by her kitchen table (the same kitchen table where he did most of his school homework, the same kitchen table from where he always used to steal a biscotti while they were still warm), supporting her face in her hand and turning those sharp blue eyes at the phone screen. Tommy swears he can feel them pierce through his very soul. “What happened? Is it your Evanino?”

The question sends a knife right through Tommy's chest as he imagines what could have been. Gosh, Nonna would have loved Evan (who doesn't love Evan, you idiot?, he tells himself), and he knows deep in his heart Evan would have loved her as well. Every time Tommy would talk about her (which he did fairly often; he was a grandma's boy and had no shame about it), Evan would get a wistful expression on his face and tell Tommy that she sounded awesome.

He had been planning on taking Evan with him next time he managed to visit her, not wanting to introduce them through the phone. Now it's for the best he didn't; at least Nonna won't have to miss him like Tommy does.

“He… he's not mine anymore, Nonna,” He admits, his voice thick with emotion. “We broke up”

“What?! Ma comme?! You were so happy last time we talked!” She asked, and of course Tommy was happy; it was the day before their six month anniversary, and he had been so full of excitement. “Was he not happy? Is that why you're blaming yourself, Tomasino?”

A smile as bright as sunshine crosses Tommy's mind. A smile that only started to fade once Tommy told him he knew how it ended. A smile that had become his personal beacon of light in the past six months. A smile he misses like a lost limb.

“He… he was happy” He says, because that much he knows to be true; Evan was happy with him, Tommy made sure of that. His grandmother frowns at that, and Tommy doesn't blame her; the story seems convoluted, feels convoluted, even to himself, and he lived it.

“Thomas, you have to help your old grandmother, because I cannot understand what is the problem. If you were happy and he was happy, then why are you not together anymore?”

“Because he asked me to move in with him” Tommy says, and that doesn't seem to clear the situation for her. If anything, her frown deepens, and she reaches for a piece of bread, fiddling with it; Nonna could never keep her hands still, especially when she was nervous, and Tommy had inherited that from her.

“Does that mean something different when it’s two men?” She asks, completely genuine, and that earns a surprised chuckle from Tommy.

“No, Nonna” Tommy says, and all of a sudden the urge to laugh is gone again; it never lasts long, not after Evan. “It… It means the same”

“Very well, and you said no? That’s why he ended things?” She asks, and Tommy sighs brokenly, the memories of the night no less painful than when it happened.

“No. I… I broke up with him, Nonna. He asked me to move in with him, and I didn’t just say no. I… I broke up with him," Tommy admits with a heavy heart.

“Tesoro, you do realize you are not making any sense? You and your boy were happy; he asked you to move in with him, and instead you broke up with him. Then you show up looking like your heart was broken and tell me it is your fault. What am I missing, bambino?”

“I have a house, Nonna!” He snaps, finally being able to voice the things that have been stewing in his heart and mind since that night. “I have a house, and he lives in a rented loft, and it makes no sense for me to move in with him!”

Nonna doesn’t answer right away. She chews thoughtfully on her bread, letting a small silence fall between the pair of them before she eventually sighs and answers him.

“Benne, you have a point, it wouldn’t make sense. But that isn’t the whole problem, is it, Tommasino?” Nonna adds shrewdly. “You could have talked it out, explained that to him. So what made you walk out of the best thing that happened to you in years?”

Tommy can always trust Nonna to lay things down exactly as they are, no matter how painful it sounds. She’s right, he did walk out of the best thing that happened to him in years, maybe ever, and it’s getting harder and harder to justify that decision to himself.

“N-Nonna, I was… I was falling so in love with him” He tells her, and feels tears starting to prickle the corner of his eyes.

“Yes, I’ve known that since last time you were here” Nonna says impatiently. “That’s not a reason to leave, Thomas; that’s a reason to stay”

“Only if he loved me back” He says automatically, and Nonna crosses her arms, unimpressed.

“And who says he doesn’t? Did you ask him?” She asks sharply, and Tommy sighs. This conversation is taking a completely different route than what he expected.

“I didn’t have to, Nonna. I… I just know it, okay? I was his first relationship with a man. I cannot be the last, that’s not how it works. And I… I thought I was okay with it, that I could enjoy it while it lasted, but… But I didn’t expect to love him this much” He admits, as much to himself as to her. It’s all his fault, really, for falling so deeply, flying too close to the Sun. “I-it’s safer to break my own heart now than to let him do it when I’m way too deep to recover. N-not that I’m recovering all too well, but… could be worse” He finishes, already wiping the few tears that inconveniently decided to rush down his cheeks.

If Tommy expects his grandmother to nod sympathetically at that and coo at him (he kinda does; she has a habit of doing that when he cries), he has another thing coming. Nonna scoffs loudly, hitting the table with her hand, strong from decades of kneading bread. The noise is enough to startle Tommy out of tears.

“Thomas Domenico Kinard, I didn’t know me and your dear Mamma, may God have her soul, had raised an estupido vigliacco!” She exclaims, her hand flailing loudly to emphasize her words.

Tommy will be the first to admit his Italian is rusty, but he’s pretty sure she just called him a stupid coward. And. Ouch.

“Nonna!” He exclaims back, but she isn’t dissuaded. She tuts him with a sharp ‘Silenzio!’ and a raised finger, and Tommy shuts up right away. He knows that when Nonna starts, the best he can do is take the scolding, so he leans back on his couch, trying his best not to look like a chided boy who got caught stealing fruit from the neighbor’s orchard.

“You are my grandson, and I love you more than anything in this world. You are a good man with a wonderful heart, but you have one big problem, Tommaso. You always assume you know people’s feelings better than they do, and then you make your own decisions based on that without actually asking anyone. Remember when you decided I should move to California because you thought I was lonely here?” She asks, raising an eyebrow, and Tommy nods sheepishly. “Do you remember what I told you?”

“That if and when you wanted to move to California, you would let me know, but you were perfectly capable of making your own decisions” He mumbles back, the epic scolding from five years ago still fresh on his mind.

“Esattamente. Now, I think your Evanino deserves the same courtesy. He is not a silly child, Thomas. If he wants you to be his last, if he loves you, who do you think you are to decide that he doesn’t?”

“But he never said he did,” Tommy replies stubbornly. “He… He never even told me he loved me, he just asked me to move in with him. It’s like… It’s like he wanted to prove a point, Nonna. That he could be… committed, or queer, or whatever, I don’t know. But he never said he loved me”

“Did you say it to him?” Nonna asks, and Tommy stares at her with his mouth agape. Damn this woman and her ability to ask the most uncomfortable questions.

“N-no” He admits. “I… I was too afraid of him not saying it back”

“Hmmm” Nonna hums thoughtfully. “That’s your other problem, bambino mio. You think you don’t deserve to be loved. I blame that man for that” Nonna says with a scoff, and they both know exactly who she’s talking about; there’s no lost love between Rosa Lucciola and her ex-son-in-law, Brian Kinard, and the way he treated Tommy and his mother before she passed is the sole reason for it.

“Well, that’s neither here nor there, Nonna” He says with a shrug, always uncomfortable when his father becomes even a small topic of conversation, but she tuts disapprovingly.

“Ah, isn’t it? Has it never occurred to you that maybe your Evanino could have the same problem? That he was as afraid as you to show his heart and have it broken?”

Tommy desperately wants to say that he thought about it, that it occurred to him; but it hasn’t. Evan is such a sunshine of a man, always so prone to smiles and loving gestures towards anyone he cares about, that Tommy never thought there could be insecurities there. Now it makes him feel selfish and stupid (or estupido as Nonna had so accurately called him).

“Nonna…” Tommy says, his mind catching up to everything she said and a horrifying realization dawns on him. “What if he did love me back? Oh my God, did I fuck this up?!” He asks before he can stop himself.

“Language! Do not take the Signore’s name and swear in the same sentence!” She chides him, and Tommy mutters ‘sorry’, but her look is impossibly fond. “But, well. Maybe you did; maybe you didn’t. Are you going to sit around and mope or try to find out?” Nonna challenges him.

“W-what if he never loved me, Nonna? Or what if he did, but me walking out made him stop?” Tommy asks, not knowing which possibility scares him the most.

“What if he still does, Thomas?” Nonna counteracts. “What if he loves you and is too afraid to reach out because you already rejected him once, hm? Someone has to be brave, and he already was when he asked you to move in, bambino. Maybe it was a little impulsive, but his heart was in the right place; it was in your future together”

Tommy realizes Nonna is right. He can’t expect Evan to reach out (he realizes he was at some level, and he would have rushed to it; one call from Evan and Tommy would be right back to his life, ready to reheal his own heart when things inevitably went wrong, just for another glimpse of Evan Buckley’s personal sunshine); it’s his turn to fight for them. It’s his turn to be brave.

“Ah, you finally realized it, hm?” Nonna says; something must be showing on his face, because there’s a satisfied smile on her face. “Fight for that boy, Thomas. Fight for your happiness, tesoro. Prove to your Nonna you are not estupido”

“Nonna, you are most definitely the best person on the planet, and I promise you didn’t raise a estupido. I’ll do right by Evan. By… By me. By both of us” Tommy promises to her, promises to himself. He blows a kiss to the screen of his cellphone, desperately wishing he could kiss her cheek in person. “Ti amo, Nonnina” (I love you, granny)

“Ti amo, nipotini del mio cuore” (I love you, grandson of my heart) She tells him back, and a mischievous smirk appears on her face. “You better bring that boy here to try my rondelli before the year is over, you hear?”

“Dio, I hope so, Nonna” He tells her, and they say their goodbyes before hanging up. Tommy already misses her.

He holds his cellphone close to his heart, wondering if he should text Evan, but decides against it. This is too big for a text, too big for a call. He’ll go over in the morning, probably with a bouquet of flowers or whatever other extravagant gift he can come up with, ready to grovel and explain himself and beg for a second chance, even if it’s only to hear a ‘no’. Even if it’s only to let Evan yell at him and get the closure he deserves. Even if it’s only to get his already shattered heart broken into even more pieces. Tommy has to be brave.

After all, nonna and mamma didn’t raise a coward.

(Evan doesn’t say no. And when Tommy explains, after several rounds of make-up sex, what made him change his mind, he promises to send Nonna a present. The present ends up being him and Tommy, because they go to Indiana for Christmas, and Evan falls in love with Nonna and her rondelli. Just like Tommy knew he would)

Tag list (let me know if I missed anyone! also if you want to be removed or only tagged in Little Blobs' Verse):

@bidisasterevankinard @unhingedangstaddict @silversky9 @music-is-the-voice-of-the-soul @asmugfirefighter @rubydaiquiri @racerchix21 @actuallyitsellie

(Although here's a lil spoiler - Nonna Rosa will probably show up in Little Blobs' verse cause I'm not ready to let go of her and she'd whack me in the head with a spoon if I didn't let her meet her great-grandchildren)

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #mentioned anyway #this turned out very much into a tommy character study #fix it fic #nonna rosa #gabby writes

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ipilokko · 2 months ago

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Hello! This is me attempting to write after a looong time. I was not home today so i wanted to try again. I don't think I'm the best at it and i probably made a LOT of grammar mistakes since English is not my first language. So i might get embarrassed and delete this later 💀

The thing is under the cut...

From the warmth of their home, Mollie stood in front of the window, she could hardly make out her immense husband between the layering raindrops. It was getting colder and colder each day as the weather pulled away from autumn and was being dragged more into winter.

His back facing her, he was wearing a dark brown coat with his umbrella on his hand, creating a spotlight on him free from the raindrops. She gripped the ladder, slowly climbing down to reach the ground. She put on her jacket, her hat, took her own umbrella, her gloves and went outside from the human door.

The oversized raindrops were a bit sticky as the surface tension was, for sure, directly proportional to the scale. She slowly made her way through him, whose gaze was lost in the foreverness of the ocean. She watched as he stretched farther over her horizon line, much farther over her head and then finally, as he completely took over her vision as she got closer.

The raindrops stopped falling on her when she passed the lineage of the circular waterproof fabric hundreds of feet above. He wasn't acting like it but she was sure he had noticed her coming, he always did.

"Always by the sea... Why do you hate me so much?"

Mollie teased before letting out a short-lasting laugh, cranning her neck to be able to see his face... Well, more like underside of his jaw. He looked down and his eyes landed on her. She was not even sure if he could see her eyes, yet it WAS an eye contact. Roy smiled kindly and looked back up to his own vanishing point. He moved his umbrella to her direction and centered it on top of her, even though he knew it was already covering her before. The sound of huge raindrops falling just a few feet away from her tickled her ears.

"What so nice here anyway?"

She walked closer to his feet. She could smell the fresh polish he applied on his shoes just a day ago.

"Stay here with me for a little longer and you will find out" He replied softly without breaking his eye contact with waves for a moment, then glancing at her.

She shifted her attention back to the ocean and glanced around between the waves. "I guess I'll be here for a while, then"

"I would love that" he once again, smiled calmly.

She was a bit cold, but it was no excuse to get back into the house. Yes, maybe she didn't understand what he liked so much about the sea but just staying with him made her happy. And her staying with him made him happy. Despite her being really talkative, it was actually the speechless moments of pure togetherness she adored the most.

His long legs shifted behind her, transferring his weight onto them with a soft tremour, shielding her from the cold breeze. His movements calm and bare of rush, as they always were. After a short amount of time, she felt a movement behind her and noticed he was lowering himself on the ground, his stature folding in half and getting more than twice as big with the affect of perspective. He smootly reached for her and slightly spread out his fingers to reveal his palm, inviting her to join him up in the sky. She glanced at his ring, which was a symbol of their marriage. it warmed her heart seeing how well he took care of it, not a single piece of dust between the elegant engravings.

With her barely perceivable touch, she put one of her hands on the inner side of his forefinger and the other one on his thumb. She supported herself and climbed on it, her small weight barely forming a dent on the soft flesh. She felt the welcomed thrill of weightlessness as he began to rise her up in the air, making her previous ground shrink and shrink more until it stopped.

"Shoulder, please" she requested. He obeyed after he deeply studying her with his soft gaze. She took a step that led her on his shoulder after his hand was aligned with the level of it. She carefully passed his and made herself comfortable near the wall of his neck with the warmth of his life blood leaking on her. His presence was dominating yet somehow, so recessive that she felt like she was taking advantage of him. She was always grateful that the gentle giant was always so patient, so respectful and considerate of her needs. He was a gentleman from every angle and his manner and accent only made her opinion stronger.

She once again paid attention to the sound of rain, a wee bit muffled now as she was further away from the origin.

"Shall we go in?" His voice rumbled through her from where she was leaning her head on. Weird enough, even though she was this close to his voicebox, his voice always touched her so gently.

#g/t #giant tiny #giant/tiny #g/t art #g/t fluff #gentle giant #giant #gt art #gt fluff #g/t community #gt #gt writing #gt sfw #gianttiny #sfw giant tiny #g/t artist #g/t concept

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dg-outlaw · 8 months ago

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Batman #148 Thoughts... or Why Jason Todd is Awesome and Batman Doesn't Deserve Him.

So... I know a lot of the discussion about this issue has been about what happens to Jason, and IYKYK. What I want to discuss are parts of the rest of the issue and why I think Jason is one of the best characters (and more than how many perceive him). *spoilers ahead*

I know many outsiders and even those in fandom look at Jason Todd or the Red Hood and think of him as the hot, angsty edge lord who isn't afraid to break Batman's one rule. He's cool and badass so you want to be like him or he's the romantic fantasy bad boy with a soft side. These things are fine, but this is often where people stop with Jason or if they dislike him the above descriptions are why.

Some people want him to be an antagonist again because villains are cool and this is where we get things like 'The Boys' because it's edgy, subversive, or some intelligent deconstruction of superheroes. Colorful and honorable superheroes like Superman or Spider-Man are boring, just a fantasy, or for kids who don't understand the real world. Again, fine if that's your take, but I don't believe that one "graduates" from one to the other.

Beyond the Fast and Furious style cool factor of fast cars, guns, and explosions that often get associated with Jason, there's more to him than that and it's why he's still one of my favorites. Hell, this is the same character that writers thought would be a priest in the Flashpoint universe, a universe that had gone to hell in a handbasket but in all that chaos and darkness he became a PRIEST.

(The World of Flashpoint: Issue #2)

Say what you will about organized religion, Christianity, or the Catholic church (because there are definitely issues there), but I think two of Jason's core traits that I admire are his faith and hope. Traits that often get Jason hurt by the people closest to him, but that often see him through the darkest times.

The cheapness of using Jason's "death" aside, these traits are seen again in Batman #148. Not only is Jason willing to put his faith in Bruce again (after everything "not" Bruce did to him in Gotham War), but he's the first down into the cave.

This isn't blind faith, but a willingness to try. A hope that maybe this time he won't be hurt, even if time and time again history has proven otherwise. Note: This can be a slippery and dangerous slope and not one without consequences as many people fall into the trap of going back into or staying in toxic relationships that only bring them pain. (And I never said his greatest strengths can't also be his greatest weaknesses).

We also see some emotional maturity and growth in this issue and I love that for Jason. Has he been going to therapy? Maybe, but my money is that he's probably been reading lots of self-help books or something.

Does Bruce deserve this level of forgiveness and compassion from Jason? No, but Jason gives it to him anyway. I also feel like this is a soft challenge from Jason. "I'm not here to save you from yourself or to ask you to save me. We do this together or not at all."

And if you're thinking, "Oh no, Jason has gone soft. Not my Jason Todd!" He's still a cheeky bastard in battle, even when he's on the ropes.

Now, for Jason's "death", one could say that it was a cheap ploy by the writer or DC to get people talking or to have a random "Jason dies" scene (though he's revived in the same issue so I feel the emotional stakes/hype are less compared to leaving it open-ended until the next issue).

One could also look at it in a cynical light given it's Jason that Bruce brings down into the cave during the flashback reveal with the secret Lazarus Kool-Aid. Did Bruce plan that knowing Jason would volunteer in some sort of reverse psychology manipulation? Was it just a random plot explanation to justify having the "Jason dies" scene? Who knows? Though I think Dick or Tim would've volunteered as well. But my focus is on the conversation.

This is another example of Jason's hope and faith, and his faith in Bruce. Bruce's plan isn't tested, though one could assume that he's done the math so to speak, but it's still Jason literally putting his life in Bruce's hands. It's also fairly clever because if Failsafe is some echo of Batman, then something in his programming probably knows about the emotional pain of Jason's initial death. So not only is "killing" going to make him glitch out, but killing Jason is probably the ultimate Failsafe glitch.

Deep down I think Jason knows how much he means to Bruce, even if Bruce is terrible at showing it sometimes. He's willing to take the risk and die, not for Bruce, but for the greater good of saving the day.

Let's also not forget that in the span of a short amount of (in-universe) time, Jason has saved the entire East Coast (end of Gotham War), Gotham City (end of The Joker: The Man Who Stopped Laughing), and is now ready to die again to stop Failsafe--all while his brain is still probably a little messed up from Gotham War.

Let this young man take a damn vacation!

Was this issue perfect? No. And I agree with others about it not being cool that Steph, Cass, and Duke got sidelined as the clean-up crew, but I do think it showed a lot of Jason's deeper character (flawed or not) and how he's more than just the edgy, sarcastic bad boy. That part of him is just the hard candy shell he's had to create to protect the gooey center that is his hope, faith, and love. After all, Damian has previously (and rightly) called him out as the "emotional one".

P.S. I know my previous post picked on Jason's Red Hood outfit at the end and I still stand by the fact that it wasn't my favorite, but seeing that it's Jorge Jimenez's art, I can forgive it. I love most of Jorge's art and would kill (not literally) to be as talented as him, but that outfit design is still a no for me. Sorry, Jorge. :(

#jason todd #red hood #bruce wayne #batman #batman 148 #dc comics #batfam #emotional growth #emotional maturity #long post

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anyasathenaeum · 11 months ago

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Cherish You (Vash x Reader smut)

A/N: Hey guys, I'm back from the dead after one hell of a time. Anyways, literally nobody asked for this, I just felt like writing this because Vash is the loml and he deserves to be loved and be given lots of orgasms. I'm still awful at writing smut so please don't perceive me okay thanks bye Warnings: MINORS DNI, AFAB!reader (female terms used), smut (lots of it), P in V sex, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT, FOLKS), overall loving & tender sex, restraints, riding, praise, a hint of angst (poor baby Vash struggles with his self-worth), reader doesn't cum (intentionally), crying Word Count: 4.8k

You had known Vash long and well enough to know when he was having a bad day, just like he was today.

While it may not have been obvious to others, with his troubles well-hidden behind his bright smile and goofy personality, you could see past it all to notice the pain in his eyes. His smile, while blinding to others, was hollow to you, and his goofiness seemed slightly more exhausted and strained than usual, as if he were overexerting himself to keep up the façade of everything being alright.

Sure enough, when the two of you had retreated to the safety of your room in some shabby little inn for the night, the carefully curated mask that Vash wore chipped off piece by piece, revealing the wounded, tortured soul of the man underneath it all. The man who believed he deserved nothing good in this world, that only sadness and evil and death would follow him until the end of time.

The man that you loved more than anything.

"Vash..." You called softly to him, kneeling down in front of him as he sat on the edge of the bed.

You gazed up worriedly into his face, a face so beautiful and yet so marred by pain that didn't belong there.

"Don't worry, Mayfly," Vash replied immediately, looking at you with a weak and tired smile, "I'll bounce back in the morning. I just... don't feel too good right now. I'm sure some rest will fix me right up."

"Don't give me that, Stampede," you retorted immediately, feeling frustration rise within you as you reached up and cupped your lover's face in your hands gently yet firmly. "I'm the one person in this world who can see through your lies. You know that."

Your words, while meant kindly, still made Vash flinch slightly, his eyebrows furrowing as he squeezed his eyes shut and let out a heavy sigh. He had no answer to your words, which was an answer in itself - he'd been caught in his blatant lie and he knew it. You knew him better than anybody else, so why did he even bother trying to brush you off, to convince you that he was fine when he was far from it?

You could tell that Vash was struggling with trying to voice what was bothering him, so you waited patiently, your thumbs gently stroking his cheeks as you granted him the time and space to find his voice. Instead, you focused on taking in every little detail of his face - his fluffy blonde hair, his beautiful and expressive blue eyes, his soft lips, the curve of his nose, the mole under his eye, every little piece of him.

"I... I can't protect you, (Y/N). Nothing I do ever seems to stop all the death and anguish that seems to haunt me. Nothing I do is good enough. I lose everything and everyone. I'm afraid... that one day, I'll lose you to it all, too. I can't risk losing you, (Y/N). Not you. Never you. You're... you're the one life I can't ever part with, and you're the one person I never deserved."

Vash's words echoed through the empty room, filled with such fear, pain, heartbreak and love that you felt your eyes begin to sting slightly. You looked up just to see the infamous outlaw gazing down at you, his blue eyes watery and filled with the same emotions you'd heard in his voice.

"Shut up."

You couldn't stop yourself, your tone quiet but your words filled with an underlying anger as they spilled forth, your whole body trembling.

"Shut up, Vash. Stop talking like that, you hear me? You deserve love and happiness and peace. Nothing less than any of that. I chose you. My heart chose you, and it continues to choose you each and every day that I live on this planet. It deemed you worthy. So, I don't believe what you're saying for a second. I love you, Vash. I always have. No matter what happens or what has happened, I love you. I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me, Stampede. Understood?"

Vash's gaze never left you, not even for a second as you spoke, his blue eyes widening at your words and a few tears slipping down his cheeks as he took in what you had said to him. His brain struggled to comprehend how you could possibly love him as much as you did while his heart practically sang in his chest, calling out to its other half that lived in your chest.

As Vash sat there on the side of the bed, seemingly frozen in place, you stood up before pulling Vash tightly into your arms, holding him as close as you possibly could against you, pressing kisses into his soft hair. After a moment or two, you felt Vash's arms wrapping around you in return, one warm and one cold as he pressed you against him, his face burying itself into your belly as he took comfort from you.

You could feel him trembling as he clutched onto you, his fingers digging slightly into your skin as he held you close, soft, shaky whispers of "I love you. I love you, Mayfly" escaping him against your skin as Vash struggled not to cry.

You ran your fingers through his blonde hair, the tips of your fingers just grazing over his scalp in a soothing, gentle motion, attempting to soothe the love of your life as best as you could. You could feel Vash calming slowly, his breathing evening out and his trembling subsiding as he breathed in your familiar scent and took in your comforting warmth and gentle touch.

"Hang on a second," you murmured to Vash gently once he had calmed, stepping away from him for a moment and causing him to whine loudly in protest at the lack of your embrace and warmth.

You quickly stripped off your clothes, piece by piece, as quickly as you could until you were completely bare before walking back over to Vash, whose eyes were wide in surprise at your sudden nudity, a slight blush spreading over his cheeks.

You giggled at the sight of the colour rising in Vash's cheeks, "Why are you blushing, my love? You've seen me naked many times."

"I've also seen the suns rising over the dunes many times in my life, Mayfly. Doesn't make it any less beautiful every time I see it. Just like you," Vash replied, his eyes taking in every bit of your body as you stood before him.

Now, you were the one blushing, looking off to the side for a moment before smiling lovingly at the man sat before you. You reached out and took Vash's flesh-and-blood hand into yours, intertwining your fingers with his gently before guiding his hand to your breast, letting it rest on your skin. You heard a shaky little breath escaping him as his hand cupped your breast oh-so-gently, and you couldn't help but smile bigger when you saw how Vash gazed at you, as if you had hung the stars in the sky yourself.

"Let me show you how much I love you, Vash," you whispered softly, your tone gentle yet firm. "Please. Let me cherish you."

Vash swallowed softly, nodding his head slowly in consent as he looked up into your eyes, heat and desire beginning to course through his body. Sex was nothing new between the two of you at this point, but something about how you were looking at Vash and how you spoke to him made him feel like something was going to be different this time.

And sure enough, as Vash reached to pull his shirt off, you quickly stopped him, your smaller hand wrapping around his bigger wrist as best as it could. You shook your head at him, smiling softly when you were met by a confused grin from him.

"I want to take care of you. Completely," you explained, a hint of heat rising to your face.

Vash blushed even darker than before at your words, but nodded assent as he let go of his turtleneck, allowing for you to take over just as you had wanted.

Slowly, silently, with nothing but loving touches and gentle caresses, you worked Vash's shirt off of him, then his boots, his holsters, his pants and his socks, leaving him in just his boxers. Your diligent and tender work of undressing him had already affected him, given the very obvious tent in Vash's underwear and the wet spot darkening and growing on the fabric.

"Sit against the headboard, please," you directed Vash gently, waiting for him to follow your request.

The Humanoid Typhoon seemed a little confused by this, but he nodded as he did as you asked, shifting so his back was resting against the headboard, with him sitting up in the bed. Vash seemed gently restless, unsure of your next move, but he trusted you with his heart and soul.

You were his best friend, his other half, his soulmate. You were the only person who had ever seen him this vulnerable, the only person who knew what Vash sounded like as he cried out and moaned in the throes of passion, the only person who knew what he tasted like. You were the only one who ever felt him inside them, the only one who had been filled by him over and over again as he moaned out confessions of love for you against your skin, the only person who would ever be with Vash that way. He belonged to you heart, body and soul, just as you did to him.

Without a word, you crawled into the bed towards Vash, making your way over to him until you were straddling his lap, your pussy grinding oh-so-gently against Vash through his boxers, pulling a hiss from his lips, his hands coming to grip onto your hips, clenching onto you tightly.

"M-Mayfly! S-Sensitive!" Vash whined out, trying to take deep breaths and calm himself, a wave of pleasure coursing through his veins as you continued to grind against him.

"I know," you cooed gently, continuing your gentle grinding as you watched Vash's expressions carefully, seeing the pleasure he was getting from your touch.

You reached over and took Vash's wrists in your own, removing his hands from your hips and bringing them up gently against the headboard, next to his head. His eyes widened as he watched you hold him, and another soft whine escaped his lips as he tried to grind against your bare pussy, clearly wanting to feel more of you.

"Not fair... wanna feel you, (Y/N)..." Vash pouted at you, gazing at you as you smiled a bit mischievously at him.

"I asked you to let me take care of you, Vash. This is part of that," You replied softly, stopping your movements altogether and making Vash groan in slight frustration at the lack of friction. "Stay here, just like this. Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do, Mayfly," Vash replied, panting softly as he tried to move his hips against you, his entire body aching for just a hint of friction from you.

You giggled as you got off of Vash entirely, teasing him further as you stood up off the bed, making Vash groan even louder, his frustration building as he whined you name, "(Y/NNNNN)!"

You couldn't help but continue to laugh softly as you dug through Vash's bag, looking around for something in particular before letting out a triumphant "Aha!" as you found what you were looking for.

Glancing over at Vash, you grinned softly and said, "Close your eyes, please."

Vash rolled his eyes playfully but conceded, closing his eyes as you made your way back to the bed, getting back into Vash's lap and straddling him once more. Gently, you took the piece of rope you had pulled from Vash's bag and tied Vash's hands to the headboard, being careful to be gentle with him and making him comfortable. When you were done with your work, you smiled softly and sat back in Vash's lap.

"There. Open your eyes, love."

Vash opened his eyes, looking over at his hands to see the ropes now binding him to the bed, and his eyes widened in surprise to see what you'd done.

"M-Mayfly? What is this?"

"You always focus on everybody but yourself. Tonight, I want to focus on just you, Vash. I want to make you feel good, I want to make you feel loved. The way I'm doing that is by ensuring you can't focus on anything but what you're feeling. Okay?"

Your voice was gentle yet firm, your words loving as you explained to the love of your life what you were hoping to do, and you could see the blush on Vash's face darkening as you explained what you wanted to do, his heart fluttering in his chest at your genuine desire to make him feel loved.

With a nod from Vash, you proceeded to gently work his underwear off of him, finally allowing his cock to spring free, already rock hard and throbbing slightly in time to his heartbeat. Globs of precum leaked from the head, dribbling down his shaft just from the few touches you had shared with him, and you felt a spike of desire and confidence go through your body at the sight of just how badly Vash wanted you.

"God, Vash... you're so beautiful," you murmured softly, tracing your hands slowly down Vash's body, taking your time with each and every scar that littered his body.

You knew Vash was sensitive about his scars, about how mutilated and broken his body looked, but to you, he was nothing short of angelic, a being of beauty beyond compare. You loved every tiny piece of him, scars and all, and you wanted to ensure that Vash understood that, that that knowledge was engraved in his soul.

A soft little whine escaped Vash as you traced down his body, your fingertips grazing over his scars with a featherlight touch, and all he could think about was just how badly he wanted to hold you, kiss you, and touch you. Vash found himself tugging against the ropes holding his hands in place, but you giggled softly and leaned in towards him, your lips teasingly a mere few centimeters away from his.

"Ah, ah, ah... no touching, Vash. Tonight's about you," You scolded him playfully.

Vash simply whined, his blue eyes filled with a mixture of pleasure, pleading and frustration, wanting nothing more than to feel you against him, to be able to hold you and touch you to his heart's content. While you weren't fully going to give into his pleading puppy-eyes, you decided that you would allow yourself to rest against him, straddling him once again and now grinding your bare pussy against the sensitive skin of his cock, a soft gasp escaping Vash's lips as he finally felt you against him.

You began to move slowly, biting your lip and letting out soft, muffled moans of pleasure as your soaked folds glided over Vash's cock, his tip nudging your clit with each thrust of your hips. You could feel Vash tensing against you, soft whimpers and pants escaping his lips as he strained against the ropes restraining him once more as you rubbed your pussy against him. The fact that he couldn't hold you as you moved against him and teased him like this was driving him crazy. Vash knew that he could easily break free from the ropes restraining him from you, but instead, he allowed you to continue your thrusts, opting instead to get lost in the pleasure you were giving him.

"B-Beautiful," you moaned against Vash's throat, pressing soft, wet, open-mouthed kisses to his skin as you continued to press your pussy against his cock, rocking back and forth with a bit more pressure, "You're so beautiful, Vash. S-So beautiful, and so good... God..."

Your loving praise mixed with such sensual and intimate touches made Vash shudder in a way you had never felt him before, his head slumping against your shoulder as you felt his whole body tensing, a loud moan escaping him as you felt his cock throbbing against your pussy.

"M-Mayfly, ha-ah! I- I'm gonna-... I'm gonna cum!" Vash cried out, his body trembling slightly against you as he felt his orgasm approaching faster than it had ever done so before.

"Cum for me, my love," you encouraged Vash gently, continuing your gentle praise and bringing your fingers up to his hair, tugging it gently as you pulled him into a passionate kiss, finally giving him a taste of you. "That's it. Cum for me. I love you. Cum for me."

With a soft cry of your name against your lips as he returned your kiss with equal passion and need, you could feel Vash coming undone beneath you. His cum spurted all over your cunt, coating both your folds and his abdomen with his seed as his orgasm washed over him, wave after wave of pleasure washing over him. Vash closed his eyes as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, panting heavily as he struggled to recover from his orgasm.

You continued running your fingers through Vash's hair as he snuggled into you, cooing to him gently as you held him close to you, "Breathe slowly, my love. Deep breaths... that's it. You did amazing. I love you so much."

Vash shivered slightly in your hold, pulling back a bit to look into your eyes, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed from your praise and the overwhelming pleasure he was feeling. As you shifted in Vash's lap, you quickly realized that despite cumming mere moments ago, his cock was still rock hard and throbbing once again, clearly still aching for you.

"(Y-Y/N)..." Vash panted softly, looking up at you with need and slight desperation, his tone and his gaze indicating how much he still wanted and needed you.

You didn't respond, instead leaning down and pressing another softer and gentler kiss against Vash's lips, your hands gliding down his body slowly. As you reached the base of Vash's cock, you sat up a little and guided Vash to the tight ring of muscle at the entrance of your core, sinking down slowly and pushing the tip of Vash's cock into you.

The moment he entered you, a loud whine escaped Vash's lips as a gasp escaped from you, the feeling of him stretching you out and filling you making you see stars as you settled into his lap, allowing him to fully bottom out within you.

"I love you," Vash began to babble softly the moment he felt your pussy clenching down around him, his face burrowing into your neck once again as he pressed desperate kisses against your skin, frantically beginning to thrust up into you in order to feel more of you around him, "I love you so much, (Y/N), you feel so good, please... please... I need you. I want you, (Y/N), please... God, I love you."

"I love you, too, Vash. I love you so much," you moaned softly in return, pressing your palms against Vash's chest to steady yourself as you began to bounce in his lap, driving his cock deeper and deeper into you.

Endless praise spilled forth from your lips as you drove Vash deeper and deeper into you, your pussy tightening around him as he brushed that perfect spot deep inside you with each thrust. Any and all thoughts left your mind except for wanting to make Vash cum over and over again while telling him how good he was, how perfect and how beautiful, how much you loved him and how good he made you feel.

"You're everything t-to me," you gasped out, grinding down on Vash and driving his cock even deeper into you, your cunt milking him and pulling endless whines and moans from his lips as you did so, "You're my world, Vash. My universe. I-I love you, I'll always love you."

The sounds escaping Vash changed suddenly, his whines and moans suddenly becoming soft whimpers and little hiccups, and you could feel his body trembling against you in a way unlike before. As you pulled away to look at him, you realized that Vash was crying in your embrace, crystalline tears coursing down his cheeks as he looked up at you, his bottom lip quivering as he tried not to sob openly.

"Vash..." you whispered softly, slowing your movements and bringing your hands up to cup his face gently, brushing away his tears, your heart aching at the sight of his tears. "Shh... it's alright."

Vash wasn't entirely sure why he was crying - you were in the middle of making him feel amazing, and yet, as he heard your words, words of love and tenderness and devotion, he suddenly felt overwhelmed by it all. How did somebody whose hands were as stained with blood as his end up with somebody as incredible, kind and pure as you? How did your heart belong to somebody like him? Thoughts swirled endlessly through his mind, his emotions overwhelming him as you sat in his lap, holding him close and caressing his face gently.

"Look at me, love."

Your voice was gentle yet insistent, tilting his face up so Vash could look you in the eyes. You pressed gentle kisses all over his face, untying Vash's hands from the headboard and allowing him to finally wrap his arms around you tightly, clutching onto you tightly as he buried his face into your bare chest, soft sobs escaping him as he held you close.

"I l-love you s-so much," Vash whimpered softly against your skin, holding you as close to him as he possibly could as his emotions overwhelmed him. "I'm sorry, (Y/N)... I-I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, my love," you replied immediately, kissing his face gently, "You're allowed to feel overwhelmed. It's okay. I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

Another soft sob escaped Vash's lips, but instead of burying his face into you, he tilted his face up and pressed his lips to yours in a passionate, emotional and surprisingly tender kiss, his hands tangling in your hair as he pulled you against him. This kiss was Vash's way of showing you just how much he needed you, how much you meant to him, how much he loved you and never wanted to be parted from you for as long as he lived. Vash's heart ached for you, wanting nothing but to spend the rest of his life by your side, loving you, making love to you, protecting you and being happy with you, if only the universe would allow it.

A sudden upward thrust from Vash in the middle of your tender moment made you gasp against his lips, the feeling of the tip of his cock brushing against that perfect, gummy spot inside of you making your whole body shudder in his grasp. His movements were slow and deliberate, ensuring both of you could feel him thrusting every inch into you as he kissed you and held you close. Both of you moaned and whined against each other's lips, and you began to grind your hips against Vash's in time with his thrusts, somehow driving him even deeper than before.

"L-Love you," Vash borderline sobbed against your throat, "I lo-love you, Mayfly. Love you so m-much, (Y/N)."

You felt your orgasm beginning to build as Vash continued his thrusts, and you matched his tender and loving movements, trying to focus on him rather than on the pleasure you were feeling. You decided then and there that you would forfeit your pleasure in favour of ensuring Vash was looked after rather than him looking after you. You reached down and pressed down on Vash's hips, silently asking him to stop his thrusts as you continued your own movements, wanting to make him feel good.

"I love you," you gasped out softly in reply, grinding and bouncing slowly and more intentionally in Vash's lap, plunging his cock deeper and deeper into you and pulling the most beautiful sounds from him. "I love you more than anything. I'll always love you, Vash. Always. You're mine and I'm yours."

A strangled sound, half a sob and half a whine, escaped Vash's throat suddenly as he clutched onto you, pulling you down hard into his lap and holding you flush against him with incredible strength as he buried himself inside you completely, "(Y-Y/N)!"

With the cry of your name, you felt Vash spill himself inside you, his cock throbbing as his seed coated your walls in white and spilled out of you as he filled you more than he ever had before, the sticky substance pooling on Vash's thighs. His whole body was shaking against you as he came down from his orgasm, his heart pounding as he tried to calm himself down and recover from it all.

"It's okay, love," you whispered gently, embracing Vash and holding him against you tightly, letting his head rest against your chest as your orgasm slipped away from you, your pleasure disappearing. "I love you, it's okay, Vash. Breathe. I've got you."

Vash's breathing slowed gradually, his eyes sliding shut as he rested against you for a moment until his body suddenly stiffened and he sat up, his eyes wide and filled with concern as he looked at you in alarm.

"(Y/N), wait... wh-what about you?! You didn't-!"

"And I'm not going to," you cut Vash off gently yet firmly, "I'm not interested in my own orgasm right now, Vash. I just want to focus on you, love. Not me. I told you that from the beginning, didn't I?"

"But this isn't fair! You've made me cum twice, a-and... I've done nothing for you in return!" Vash exclaimed, his expression borderline upset as he took your face in his hands, looking at you worriedly.

You couldn't help but laugh at how endearing Vash was, and you kissed the palms of his hands before placing your hands overtop of his on your cheeks, intertwining your fingers with his.

"It's not a big deal, Vash," you laughed softly, gazing at him with tenderness and love.

"It is to me!" Vash exclaimed immediately, frowning and pouting as he tugged you closer to him.

"How about this, then? Let me take care of you for a little while longer, and then, afterwards, if you still want to, you can do what you'd like to make me feel good. Deal?" You offered, cocking your head to the side as you gazed at the love of your life.

"Deal."

Vash didn't hesitate to take you up on your offer before leaning in and kissing you again, this kiss gentle, loving and sweet rather than lustful and passionate. His embrace was strong, yet gentle, and as Vash held you close, he felt an overwhelming sense of true peace for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. In loving him and cherishing him as you had, not just tonight but every day before this, you had shown Vash what he meant to you. You had shown him just how much you loved him and believed in him, and it made his heart swell and break simultaneously.

"I don't know how somebody like me could ever deserve somebody as precious as you."

Vash's words made your heart ache in your chest, and you shook your head resolutely as you pressed your forehead to his, closing your eyes and taking a deep, slow breath before answering, "You deserve so much more than just me, Vash. You deserve the world."

"You are my world, (Y/N). You always have been and always will be, for as long as I live."

You couldn't help but kiss Vash once again, wanting nothing but to spend the rest of your life burrowed in his embrace, but you pulled away so you could clean both yourself and him off and continue taking care of him.

"Come on, my love. I'll run you a bath and you can soak your muscles. You've worked hard, you need to rest," you offered gently, standing from the bed and heading to the bathroom to do as you suggested.

Vash sighed happily as he slumped back against the headboard and watched you walk to the bathroom, a blush on his cheeks and a goofy little smile on his face. His heart was still awash with a flurry of emotions and residual pleasure, but the most prominent thing he felt in that moment was overwhelming love for you as he let out a quiet whisper that nobody but he could hear.

"Gods, how I love you, Mayfly. I will spend a thousand lifetimes trying to deserve you."

#anya's athenaeum #trigun stampede #trigun stampede x reader #trigun x reader #trigun #vash the stampede #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #vash the stampede smut #vash tristamp #trigun stampede smut #trigun smut #vash x you #vash smut #vash trigun

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chasedeys · 1 month ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/chasedeys/771700105318383616

So we have all clocked Joe being reserved when it comes to pda with Ja’Marr ??!

asakljfjkl i think it's like. less 'reserved when it comes to pda with ja'marr' and more of like. 'shy as all hell when it comes to ja'marr'.

begging youuuu to see carmen's post and tags (and also mine lmaoooo) here adore it to bits.

no wait i don't actually know what you mean by 'reserved when it comes to pda' because when you say it like that i take it to mean like. they're already together and joe doesn't really want to show to the world that he's close to ja'marr. that he can be really fucking tactile and clingy with ja'marr. because he's reserved when it comes to his personal stuff. which sure! totally understand this!

but i interpret the entire thing to be like this. they aren't together yet and joe is incredibly.....shy (?) with touching even the bare minimum of skin with ja'marr. six years and the pinky shake is still like a breath of fresh air for him. keeps reaching out first to do it with ja'marr!! every time!!! this man is incredibly sure with everything he does no doubt about it! but with ja'marr he's also sooo uppity and clumsy and awkward it's so endearing!!

joe is reallllllly really tactile as shit with everyone. he lives for skin to skin contact he loves that shit to death if he doesn't show affection to anyone by touching their shoulders knocking his head to theirs or fist-bumping or (especially with tee god this is so important to me too) nuzzling the side of their neck he might actually wilt and collapse into a puddle and like. die. no joke.

and ja'marr is no exception! in fact ja'marr especially!! loveeee writing how joe just. wraps around ja'marr. folds into him. early morning collapses into him and sniffs at his neck and head. sitting together on a couch and there's all that space but they sit on a single spot together (hard knocks titans ep....). reaching out to tuck a finger into ja'marr's belt loops and tugging on it so ja'marr stumbles into him. pinky shake but he doesn't let go and instead pulls on it so ja'marr falls into him. but like. these are whole other examples of a whole other thing sorry ANYWAYS.

joe still shows affection to ja'marr! all the pinky shakes. fist bumps. out of mind helmet slamming bunny hopping touchdown celebrations. shoulder grabbing. saints interview, mid-game calling for attention so many clips of this i'm not kidding. punches his chest telling him good job. kc game shove lol. ufc matches. donut incident. that cowboys tucking into his chest teasing him truly gem of a moment. oh that post-titans game walking together to the bus too actually i don't know why that's such a soft moment to me. and like other examples of just being unable to really look at ja'marr in the faceee, just from the corner of his eyes like that titans mic'ed up moment teasing his ass god what a moment that was. he's soooo shy and abashed with ja'marr! like a schoolboy with a crush! doesn't know what to do! holds himself back! tries to put himself forward but freezes up too easily!!!

so really it's less 'unwilling to show pda' and more like. not wholly able to? like he wants to but something is holding him back and that something is his big fat fucking crush on a boy. if he touches that boy he might combust into a cloud of mushroom and everyone will know and see and he will be perceived, including by the boy he loves. and wow he can't have that.

#ask #wait no like i don't actually know what you mean by the word saakrjaljiofejgw #LIKE I'M NOT DISAGREEING WITH YOUUUU #but just like. expanding on what i think ahahahahaha #bc if joe was like. a whole lot more sure of himself and ja'marr. im pretty sure hed be very very shameless in being all over ja'marr.#joemarr meta #joemarr #awuwguhuwehssffjkafei the shit i can write about these two damn it

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nothingbutnowhere · 8 months ago

Text

A Simon x reader blurb

Notes: Reader refered to as 'girl' once, mentions of anxiety/hypervigilant symptoms

Edit for typos I wrote this at like 1 am on my phone lol apologies

Your phone was always on silent. No ringtone, no vibration, not even alarms, you had an alarm clock for that, one of the fancy light ones that gradually brightened and played birdsong as the alarm. Given your sensitive startle reflex it made sense to Simon. And it's not like you often missed his calls or texts when he was away. No matter to him.

"Where was that new place you wanted to eat?" you asked from the kitchen, "Kinda out of food right now."

Simon had come home earlier than expected and left you with no time to prepare after a busy week. And considering you'd spent the afternoon and most of the evening rolling around in bed neither of you wanted to cook anyway.

The idea of going out was so much less stressful when Simon was with you. The fear of being perceived, and the fear of the nebulous 'something bad' made exiting your home a no go about 50% of the time. Simon had everything covered though. He could and would handle anything 'bad' and his glare was enough to send wandering eyes away. And seeing Simon straight up not give a fuck helped your thought patterns more than CBT ever did.

"I'll send it"

A few moments later there's a loud notification sound and buzz. Simon nearly jumps, head whipping towards the noise.

He starts to say something but when he sees you with your phone clutched to your chest, familiar red face like you've got caught with your hand in the cookie jar he closes his mouth and waits for the stammered explanation.

"I- it's- um. I have it set for you. When you're gone, guess I forgot to turn it off. It's just so, you know, I don't miss you. I mean miss your calls. I always miss you."

You give him half a smile and it twists Simon's heart, or what's left of it.

He stands and approaches you. Something that most people run away from, but your eyes only get softer and shoulders sag as you melt into his arms. It took time but you broke though his hard shell only to find a teddy bear inside.

"Sweet girl," he murmurs into your forehead before pressing his lips to your skin.

"Handsome boy," you say back, hands gripping the front of his shirt.

"Doin' all that for me? Guess I must be then."

"Mmhm. My handsome boy."

It makes Simon smile when you get possessive over him.

"My sweet girl."

And it makes you hot when he's possessive over you.

You groan.

"Don't start that again or we'll be eating 3am pizza. Or plain spaghetti noodles."

"It's just the truth love."

You break the embrace.

"Well your sweet girl wants dinner," you say with a winning smile.

You tilt your head up and stand on your tiptoes, a silent ask for a kiss.

He swoops in dutifully, but it's only a passing brush.

Asking for kisses is a dangerous game, there's more than one reason your man wears a mask (it's the oral fixation).

You look playfully disappointed but he only gives you his deadpan expression.

You huff and follow him to the door.

Once your shoes are on he does indulge you in another kiss. Deeper this time. Lingering. You give Simon a nip on his bottom lip, something to ache a little bit during dinner while you can't have your lips on him. He smiles, nearly giggles, and gives you a matching one.

A/N: I'm a little rusty, haven't written in a hot sec, but this just kinda plopped into my head. And I have a few other ideas for this soft!simon and anxiety/PTSD/hypervigilant!reader, so maybe I'll continue

...

I do NOT consent for my works, part of my works, or my ideas to be used for ANY form of AI.

#x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #hypervigilant!reader #my writing #original post

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dean-a-mean-tae · 1 year ago

Text

Light At The End | Stray Kids Extra Member AU

You shine bright Brighter than all the stars ... And your perfection even in your mistakes Give affection even when your heart aches

Chan x Nicholas | Those are song lyrics from Alvin and the Chipmunks ;-; | I hope this was to your standards!

WARNINGS: Discrimination, Racism, Could be perceived as self-harm (Nicholas gets hurt twice but is okay with both), anorexia (different for everyone this is based on my experience), I think that's it

I realized I forgot to put warnings, and I am so sorry. (Update 12/22/23 9:20)

Nicholas Ross Master List | Requested: Yes | Of The Tunnel Part 2

"I'm gonna ask you something, and I want you to be honest," Chan whispered. His voice was loud in the silence of his room. Nicholas sat with him with a stuffed frog in his lap.

They were in their spot again. The place Nicholas first opened up to Chan. The place where Chan swore to help Nicholas find himself.

"What happened?"

You know the phrase, 'Your parents are your first bullies,' right? They told you they did it to prepare you for the world, and it worked. You know the world is cruel, and nowhere is safe for you. Not even your head. Your head is clouded by judgment forced on you as a child.

"Why don't you talk to me?" They whine. They don't realize they follow in their parents' footsteps. They tell your business because it's family, then get angry when you do the same. Isn't that what they taught you?

Nicholas grew up in a world of hate and then got thrown into a world of more hate.

He couldn't handle the ones about his appearance. Why don't they like him? He's tall, has soft skin, has healthy hair, and is happy. He has proper hygiene and cares for his body as much as it allows.

He was used to the comments about his talent, or lack thereof. He could handle the ones complaining about his spot in Stray Kids. Those were easy because they were true. These cuts weren't deep, and they reminded him of home.

"You did good in practice today," Felix said as he looped his arm through Nick's.

"Only because Minho hyung stayed behind and helped. I'm out of rhythm still," Nicholas denied, shaking his head.

But the ones about his appearance? His mother taught him to be proud of his complexion and how his hair grew from his scalp. So, what was wrong with him? Why don't they like him? Why can't they like him?

"Nicholas?"

Maybe he should get a perm. Is that what it's called? A perm? The thing that gives you curls or takes your curls is a perm, right? Whatever, the stylist will know what he's talking about. It was her idea anyway.

"When will you tame these knots?" The woman groaned as she brushed through Nicholas' hair. It hurt, but he wouldn't say anything. She is the hairstylist. This is her job. It hurt when his momma braided his hair, but it always looked good when done.

"What knots? I brushed and plaited my hair," Nicholas explained, looking at the woman in the mirror. She would be pretty if she stopped glaring. Glaring gave her wrinkles around the eyes and reminded him of those pug dogs.

"We should put a relaxer in your hair. The chemicals will make it straight and fix these knots." She ignored him. She kept talking about his unmanageable hair and how difficult it was to work with him.

Relaxer, that's what it's called, or is it both? Nicholas can't remember. He should schedule one. He couldn't tell the members. Jeongin and Changbin would strangle him before letting him get rid of his curls.

"Nick, can you hear me?"

"Did you hear?" Someone whispered, and Nicholas tilted his head. The mirror showed the two stylists behind him.

"He only washes his hair once a month. Twice if his members help him," She grumbled.

The woman in front of her grimaced in disgust, "Could you imagine the build-up?"

"What about his stylist?" The first one huffed, leaning to hide from a passing staff. "Don't you think it's selfish making her deal with the dirt?"

Maybe the relaxer will help make wash days easier. Simple wash days meant his hair could be washed frequently.

His eyes were stinging again.

"Don't rub your eye so hard," Chan scolded as he yanked Nicholas' arm away from his eye. The pull sent a pain up his shoulder, but it's okay. "You still have your contacts in."

Contacts? Oh, the new ones he got from Nicki. After one of the members gave her his account information, she would put money in his account and order things for him. A sweet woman, she is.

For some reason, these contacts prevent him from crying. He likes them.

"Is this about the comments?" Chan whispered. He knew? Of course, he knows. If Chan knows, then Minho knows. Minho finds these things before everyone.

Nicholas still can't find the strategy in Minho's methods.

"Nicholas?"

He did it again. He fell down the rabbit hole. He needs to stop doing that. Did he eat today? He skipped breakfast cause he had an early practice. He promised Hyunjin he would eat later after vocal lessons. He drank a smoothie and ate an apple.

Technically, he didn't lie. Hyunjin would still be mad, though.

"I need to eat something," Nicholas said, more like croaked. Had he been quiet this whole time?

"You're hungry?" Chan asked.

"No." But he knew he needed to eat something. He was doing so well. He ate two meals and four snacks yesterday. And he didn't throw up. He forgot to tell Nicki about that.

Too late now. Progress gone.

"I'm proud of you." Maybe it was how soft Chan said. Or it could have been because of the raw emotion in his voice. But a quiet, pathetic sound left Nicholas' lips, and his fists tightened around the frog. Gentle hands guided him to warmth.

You would think he'd be used to this by now. Comfort through touch or even words. He didn't have that from his parents, and his sister didn't know how to be gentle until they were older.

"I'm proud of you."

There it was again. The phrase that broke him. The phrase that scared him. He used to think love was conditional.

But a genuine love, platonic or romantic, is unconditional, even when it hurts. That's why it hurts to move on or forget.

He was moving now. Where is he going?

"Go to sleep, Nick," Chan whispered. Oh, he's being carried. That's why it's so warm. They're going home? He missed home. He wondered how they were doing.

"Thank you, Starlight," Nicholas whispered.

"You're welcome."

Nicholas Ross Master list | Of The Tunnel Part 2

©️DEANAMEANTAE2023

Tags list: @bada-lee-ily, @jinnie-ret, @hwxnghyynjin, @foxilsdenn, @rensahazard, You can be added by asking in the replies, sending me a message, or doing an ask thingy.

#deantae nicholas ross #skz 9th member #stray kids 9th member #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x male reader #stray kids x male reader #skz x 9th member #stray kids extra member #stray kids with the 9th member #9th member of skz #9th member of stray kids #bang chan x oc #bang chan x male reader #bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff

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baldurs-gape · 7 months ago

Note

You have been perceived.

Oh Nonnie, trust me, I know. I have spent the last couple of days alternating between the sheer panic of having been perceived and also the deepest desire to know why?! There's over 2000 Bloodweave fics out there. Just how and why did Shores end up being the one he picked?! Especially with those tags. I almost feel compelled to profusely apologise that he had to read those with his own eyes. But then I remember that while the story is my sin, I'm not to blame for him noodling around on AO3. And if he did have a sneaky read, I bloody hope he was polite and at least left kudos.

Anyway. More importantly. You sent an ask and so you shall have a ficlet of thanks for finding my little corner of the fandom and interacting.

Mortal Hands

The room at the Elfsong Tavern was the height of luxury compared to the road the party had been on for so long. Various exclamations of relief and gratitude mixed with sighs and grumbles about who gets which bed. Perhaps the one Astarion picked wasn't ideal but as least it was in the corner, he could see the entrance to the room and, if needed, could probably make an escape route through a window. Without any discussion or ever question, the bed next to his was left empty for Gale. It took a few minutes for their wizard to drag himself in, looking more haggard and tired than usual. Obviously the message from Elminster about seeing mystra hadn't gone down very well. He looked ready to crash face first into the pillow and not resurface for tenday or so.

"You're going to get the bed filthy," Astarion drawled as he watched Gale blink at the bed with confused longing. "Get cleaned up. You can thank me when you're awake again."

A pout. The great Wizard of Waterdeep, the Chosen of Mystra, an archmage of great renown was pouting at Astarion like he'd just told him he can't have a second helping of pie and custard. That was just rude. Being the more mature of the two of them, Astarion rolled his eyes in response.

"Must I do everything? Come along." For all his griping, Astarion was up and leading Gale towards the wooden tub he'd spied earlier. It didn't take long to arrange for it to get filled with steaming hot water and he barely had any time to grab Gale by the arm and hoist him back before the other got in. "Were you raised by boars? You get in there like this and you'll be sitting in your own much. I should call you a filth wizard."

"But-" Gale began and was cut off with a hand gesture.

"Sit."

Thankfully Gale sat and actually looked grateful for it. His eyes closed as Astarion went about drawing a couple of buckets of water from the tub. Towels, a bar of soap from his own pack (pilfered from Raphael's rather decadent bath) and Gale's shaving kit.

First things first, Astarion bullied Gale into stripping, frowning at the bruises that were revealed. Not to mention that his wizard looked more slender than before. They were going to have to pay more attention to supplies it seemed. Once naked, Astarion picked up a bucket.

"Close your eyes and hold your breath."

"Wha-" The word morphed into a splutter as Gale spat water out. He was dripping and glaring, and it really shouldn't have been such a good look on him.

Not missing a beat, Astarion set about washing him from top down. Working shampoo into Gale's hair, he listened to the soft exhales, watched as Gale's shoulders slumped, head tipping into the touch. Astarion used his fingers to find tangles and gentle teased them out. Half a bucket rinsed the suds out. Next was the unsightly scruff of beard. It had been much better maintained but the shadowcursed lands hadn't exactly afforded them much opportunity for personal care.

"Is this really necessary?" Gale asked even as his hands settled on Astarion's hips to steady him in his lap. "Surely it can wait."

"You'll feel better. We'll go see Mystra tomorrow and tell her where she can shove the crown."

"She doesn't care about looks."

Astarion raised an eyebrow. "I don't care about what she thinks. I want you to feel good about yourself."

As he spoke, his hands worked gently over the scruff, cleaning it and working up another nice lather. Reaching for the razor, Astarion waited a moment, knowing all too well that Gale would try and speak whether he had a sharp blade against his skin or not. Sure enough, he was right.

"She won't be impressed by a bit of grooming. Not even hunting down a bit of magic would impress her."

"Do you know how much effort I'm having to put into not making a comment about Mystra and grooming?"

Gale sighed. "She's a goddess. She doesn't need to worry about things like grooming or wind blowing a wisp of hair out of the way."

Rather than say anything, Astarion stared at him and shook his head before taking a gentle hold of Gale's chin. The aim wasn't to get rid of the beard, just to tame it and return it to its more usual look. He felt the moment Gale realised the meaning of his words and his jaw flexed. In response, Astarion tightened his grip a little to keep him quiet.

Once satisfied with his work, Astarion used a towel to wiped him clean before reaching for another lotion. Yet another thing he'd lifted from Sharess' Caress, it was something to keep a beard softer. Rubbing it into Gale's facial hair felt oddly meditative and Astarion got lost for a moment in the feel of the hairs against his palms. It was only when Gale's head fell forwards before jerking back up that he realised they were both drifting.

"Only a little longer," he murmured and got up.

The last bucket of now tepid water was used to wipe the worst of the grim off Gale. His arms and legs were lifted on command and Astarion did his best not to laugh too much when he worked on cleaning ticklish feet and Gale squirmed, nose scrunched up.

Finally satisfied, Astarion nodded to himself and gestured at the tub which was warm but no longer scaling.

"Get in."

The groan Gale let out as he sank into the water came from the soul. Knees bent, he sank in until his shoulders were under the water, eyes closed. Astarion flipped a bucket upside down and sat on it behind him. Starting without a word, he let himself play with Gale's hair, fingers digging into his scalp as it turned into a massage. Deftly he moved down to his jaw, knowing that Gale had a tendency to grind his teeth which left him aching and frustrated quite often. Once his mouth was slack, Astarion returned to playing with his freshly tidied up beard, touching for the sake of enjoyment.

Under his care, Gale all but melted. He sleepily nuzzled into Astarion's palm, resting comfortably against it like it was the world's most decadent pillow. The trust of it had Astarion's throat tight. Nobody before Gale had put so much faith into him. The assumption that he would hold Gale, keep him above water and allow him to rest was the purest form of love Astarion could imagine.

"Come along, before you become the Wizard of Watersleep."

Drying a half awake Gale off, Astarion led him to the bed where Gale happily burrowed under the blanket. There was just one problem. Sleepy brown eyes stared at him imploringly. Astarion found it almost impossible to resist.

"Let me quickly get cleaned up. Then I'll join you."

Never in his life had he washed himself quicker. It was still too long. By the time he returned to Gale's side, the wizard was already asleep, blanket clutched to his chest in lieu of another body to hold. Somewhat disappointed, Astarion sat on the edge of the bed to watch. The dip in the mattress didn't wake Gale fully but he did snuffled and shuffled towards the edge of the bed, making more room. Taking the invitation, Astarion curled up next to him, smiling to himself when the blanket was kicked away in favour of Gale wrapping around him more securely than a mindflayer's tentacles around a head at feeding time.

Rest was quick to draw Astarion into a trance. It had been a long road and they weren't anywhere close to being done just yet. But at least he had Gale and Gale had him. That was going to have to be enough when they faced the monsters of their past in the next couple of days.

#bloodweave #astarion x gale #astarion/gale #astarion #bg3 astarion #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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infinitywrites · 1 year ago

Text

I Didn't Expect You Part 4 ~ Conrad Fisher

(Part 3) (Masterlist) (Part 5)

gif credit @laurens-german

synopsis: Y/N never expected it to be the summer that everything changed. Conrad, Belly and Steven were all dealing with the consequences of recent break ups while Jeremiah's wasn't acting like himself. Susannah was undergoing treatment that provided unpredictable health results and kept her loved ones on the edge of tragedy. Had they drained the well of the magic of Cousin's beach? Or could something new fulfil it again?

warnings: multichapter slow burn, warnings will update with every chapter, timeline is both POST S2 and a retelling of S2 with changes, everyone swears A LOT, 4th of July party, ANGST between Jeremiah/Conrad, ANGST between Conrad/Y/N, Nicole (sorry to this Queen), Conrad's friend Danny (made him into my own thing), hints of Belly/Jeremiah, I don't know shit about sports

word count: 4,141

___________________________________________

I feel like no one wants me

And I hate the way I'm perceived

I only have two real friends

'Cause I love people I don't like

All I did was try my best

Ego crush is so severe

God, it's brutal out here

Got a broken ego, broken heart

I decided I needed sustenance before heading into the lion's den and popped a bacon wrapped scallop in my mouth. Nicole sidled up next to me in no time, refilling her plate.

"Someone's got game." Her voice was low, unassuming and her eyes were focused on the desserts when I looked at her.

I almost spit out my margarita, "You're kidding, right?"

She giggled, "Nuh uh. I got to watch you in action twice now. Danny was eating out of the palm of your hand and even Cam looked weak."

"OhmiGod, Cam is Belly's ex!"

Nicole shrugged, "Okay, fair but I don't blame you for Danny cause he's definitely been working out." Our eyeline shifted to where he was laughing with Jeremiah and Steven.

"He's at school for a baseball scholarship, of course he works out." Her look of unabashed thirst would never not amuse me.

"Fuck, that's so hot." She looked like she was about to swallow her tongue.

Without another word Nicole walked off in his direction and I smiled as I watched her get her flirt game on and trail her fingers up his bicep. My mind drifted back to the house as I downed the last of my margarita before I headed inside to poke the bear.

He was in the kitchen, drinking from a dark liquor bottle when I walked in. His sullen eyes met mine for a long moment, "Where's your boyfriend?"

"Would you shut the fuck up for like a second?" The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them as I leaned against the island on my palms. Conrad rolled his eyes and turned his body away from me. That set me off again, "Since when the fuck do you talk so much anyway? My god the stupid fucking shit that flies–"

He put his bottle down, "Since when the fuck so you swear so much?" It was disconcerting how much calmer he was than me. It spurred me on.

"Since you, asshole!" I didn't even realize how angry I was until the words came flying out and the adrenaline spiked higher. "Since you make me so fucking mad I wanna tear my own hair out! And I thought we made progress the other night. How fucking stupid am I?" I took a long breath and felt the heat prickle my cheeks. I should have brought in another frozen margarita.

The look on Conrad's face changed and his voice went soft, "You've never been stupid a day in your life."

"Fuck you, I'm not done!" I wasn't done being pissed at him for trying to ruin a perfectly good day. "Do you even know who asked me to come in after you? Your friend, Danny. Sweet Danny who was genuinely worried that he hurt your feelings, you fucking–"

His eyes narrowed cruelly, "Oh, poor sweet Danny who wrangled an invitation to 4th party just to drool all over you apparently."

"Are you seriously fucking jealous right now?"

Conrad's mouth snapped shut as his eyes widened in panic for a second and I couldn't have cared less, "I didn't want to steal his attention away from you, Conrad. I was just saying hi…you know, like a nice person."

"Mhm. I'm sure he's got lots of ideas of how you can be nice to him." He took another swig from his bottle.

I couldn't even look at him anymore so I squeezed my eyes shut until I could. "Jesus, I'm not gonna date your friend, okay?!? Not if really you don't want me to."

When I opened my eyes Conrad looked shocked, "What? Seriously?"

It was the last thing I was expecting and I could feel myself start to calm down finally, "I mean, yeah. If it bugs you that much."

I could tell he was thinking about it. "Y/N…"

"Unless it really was the stupid fucking baseball shit." It was the shift in his tone of voice. I couldn't handle it.

Conrad paused, "I mean, he is a fucking liar. It's…" I spluttered a laugh and couldn't even hear his very important correction. "What? It's true." Conrad shrugged miserably and placed his bottle back on the counter.

I thought about Danny's request when I said, "I'm sure it is. I just have no idea what you're talking about."

Conrad rolled his eyes and I sighed.

"How is it I've known you my whole life and I never knew the absolute stats nerd hidden under that 90s heartthrob hair?" The second I walked into that kitchen I could barely believe the words coming out of my mouth. I was cutting myself off from another margarita even though I wanted it.

"You think I'm a 90s heartthrob?" He was leaning on the other side of the island and peering at me quizzically. I thought I could even see the hint of smirk under his misery.

"Ohmigod, that's what you got from that?" My face was screwed up in disbelief. His ego had no bounds.

"Uh, that was definitely the most important part."

"Oh so you're a delusional nerd too?" This was better than sulking Conrad or angry Conrad but only by an inch.

He paused and shrugged like he was shaking off the rest of his sour mood. And then I felt him focus his stare directly at me in a way I'd never experienced. I didn't have to look up at him to know what I'd find. Was this the shameless confidence that Belly always talked about? The silence was bad enough. He always did that; said the thing I least expected or never said anything at all after I did. He'd just wait and look at me, expectantly until I felt like I couldn't breathe.

The silence was never comfortable so I mustered the last bits of my courage and looked him square in the face, "Not everyone is flirting with you, Conrad."

His smile grew for the first time since he thought he was on a winning streak in the pool. The unsettling thing about it was it seemed like he knew something I didn't. Conrad was nodding and considering the statement as he stepped around the island to stand in front of me on the other side.

I gasped softly when his eyes flashed back to mine and muttered, "You sure?" He lingered in the moment and I felt a calloused fingertip graze the back on my hand gripping the island countertop. Just when the static in my brain started the clear and I could breathe again, Conrad leaned into my ear to whisper,

"Or do you save that for Danny now?"

He stayed close but he had to be drunker than I thought and fucking with me again so I took a breath and tried not to take the bait. Maybe it was my turn to say the thing he least expected for once. I didn't want to have to look him in the eye again after that, "I…you know, sometimes I can't tell and it's unintentional. Danny probably did the same thing. He's just a nice guy."

He scoffed and took a step back. "Sure. Not like you'd notice either way."

I looked at him then and shook my head in confusion, "What is that supposed to mean?"

Conrad opened his mouth as he stepped closer again but was shocked into place when he heard his brother calling for him from the other room. "Connie!"

He had the decency to look at me apologetically before directing him to the kitchen. When I saw Jeremiah's expression was serious and fixed on Conrad, I used that opportunity to make my exit. I took a few minutes in the bathroom to splash some water on my face and assess the pink hue in my skin as flush or sunburn. It didn't take long before I started to hear raised voices. I debated whether to investigate or leave them to it, if it was even the Fisher brothers at all, but when I thought about how Susannah wouldn't be able to deal with it like she always did, I knew I had to make sure it wouldn't get out of hand.

I caught pieces of the story as I walked back towards the kitchen. Susannah and Adam had been separated for a year now but he'd helped throughout as he should. He helped more than he did when they were together if Conrad was telling the truth. I heard Jeremiah accuse Conrad of scaring Adam away from the party altogether. It was true, Adam Fisher was nowhere to be found for the first time since I could remember. It was strange to think about now when he'd showed up for a few short hours the year before.

Jeremiah's tone was firm. "What gave you the right?"

"Get over it, Jere. They're not even together anymore." In contrast, Conrad sounded like this was the last conversation he wanted to have.

"You think I don't know that?"

"This is Mom's house and her party. You really think she wants him here?"

"I think she wanted him at Thanksgiving and Christmas and when the treatment got really bad in the Spring too. Oh, but that's right you had finals and weren't around much then, moping around after you screwed things up with Belly." My eyes squeezed shut at the dig. This could escalate badly.

"Fuck you, you know I came home every second I could!"

"I was there every day!"

"Okay?! Okay! What do you want, a medal?" I hoped the breath I huffed wasn't audible enough for them to hear.

Jeremiah shook his head out of the corner of my eye, "Did you even ask her? Cause you're right, this is her party and she should have decided. Not you." The footsteps were heavy across the tile as he left and I heard the door slam behind him.

Conrad sighed. "You heard every word of that, didn't you?"

I winced and came out of hiding around the corner to see him leaning heavy on the island like it was the only thing holding him up at this point. His liquor bottle of choice was abandoned by the sink. "I'm sorry...but not every word and I didn't mean to, I swear. I was just in the bathroom."

"It's okay. It's not your fault. Actually it's my fault. As per usual." He didn't move from his spot as his eyes carved holes into the countertop.

"Don't say that." My heart ached for him without my permission. Maybe Conrad fucked up by not inviting Adam or telling him not to show up at all but some of what Jeremiah said was unfair. And it wasn't hard to see that his brother was taking every word to heart no matter what.

"Why not? It's true. It's the only fucking thing I'm good at anymore." He looked up finally, lost.

"Connie, come on."

The words seemed to shock him out of his emotional spiral. His brows raised and while the smile on his face was immediate, it fell just as quick, "I can't remember the last time you called me Connie."

"I think I do, actually." Apparently it was infectious because now I was smiling at a memory I thought I'd lost.

When I looked his way again, he was watching me expectantly with the hint of that same sweet smile on his face. It was the least I could do since he seemed interested in the distraction from his own thoughts.

"There was this girl in my freshman year named Connie and I remember thinking it was hilarious that it was a girl's name. Kinda gross of me, honestly."

"I would say," he interrupted but was still listening.

"Do you wanna hear the story or not?" His hands raised in defeat as he chuckled. "I told Belly I was gonna torture you with it that summer; calling you every famous Connie I could come up with. TV characters and political figures but she got really upset and said you'd be mad so 'please don't'. So I tried to forget about it entirely so I wasn't tempted."

When I looked up again, Conrad was looking at me with an expression I couldn't quite figure out so I kept on. "And it must have worked too because I forgot about it until this second."

He nodded slowly, "Does that mean I get to call you Y/N/N again?"

I rolled my eyes at the old nickname and conceded, "I guess it's only fair."

We ended up heading back towards the party and paused to look outside sliding door windows at the view of the patio. He nudged me, "So you've grown to like my name."

I didn't need to look at him to know he was trying to shift his mood before we went back to everyone who was oblivious about what had gone down inside. "Damn, the confidence with which you said that completely inaccurate statement."

"Mm, say it again." He muttered and I shot him a glare so fast I couldn't believe he kept talking. "But softer."

My patience was battling against the need for physical violence but I let it out verbally. "Maybe try therapy if that gives you a nerdgasm." I was gonna get a lot of traction out of this nerd thing.

"Exposure therapy maybe." The mood shift was successful if I could base it on his teasing tone and goofy smile.

"I said I wasn't flirting with you, dummy." I didn't mean to bring it up again since it wasn't that serious but it wasn't the only thing I'd said that I was gonna regret after the fact.

Conrad scrunched his face in disbelief, "That's definitely not what you said. Actually, we decided you wouldn't know if someone was flirting with you. Case in point."

I could barely listen to him anymore and I gestured for him to quit it. "Fine, whatever, I'm saying it now. Not flirting. Can we move on?" I knew he was looking at me then but I refused to do the same.

"No." His response was immediate and I saw him register the shock, like it even surprised him a little that he'd said it.

I didn't have a choice then and could only gape in his direction, eyes struck wide by his stubborn streak.

Conrad turned to me and stepped closer like he'd made a decision. "Even if you weren't, I was. And I want you to know so I'm telling you now, straight up, to your face, so later you can't explain it away or pretend I didn't…flirt with you."

And that's when I realized he did know something I didn't. I was such an idiot. He broke his steady gaze for a second and chuckled, "I didn't mean to at first and then…I don't think I can stop now."

If all that wasn't enough, he wasn't done. "I don't want to." Conrad leant close then and his voice dropped an octave, "I mean, why does he get to when I can't?"

I heard the sliding door shift open and closed but didn't see it from my frozen state, staring at a corner piece of the door frame. I sucked in an unsteady breath and looked up just in time to see him look back at me from the edge of the pool, quickly before he jumped in.

My nerves were shot and despite the cool air inside the house compared to the heavy July sun, my hairline was damp. My mind was blank and racing at the same time; no thought coherent in the slightest so I shut it down completely. No more thinking, not that I could think myself out of this one anyway. I waited until I could breathe normally and wasn't overheating from the inside before I stepped back out to the patio and steered directly to the drinks table for my third frozen margarita.

The rest of the party was fairly uneventful in comparison but still great. No more drunken drama or broken family heirlooms to Belly's great relief. In fact, I found a lot of peace watching her for the rest of the night; giggling with her friends, swimming until her limbs cramped up and flirting with Jeremiah if I could read the signals right. He seemed elated by the development and I let myself be happy for them instead of diving into the complications of that potential. No more thinking.

At one point, I watched Conrad grab Danny's shoulder, both of them nursing their last beers of the night, and mutter something to him that looked serious enough to be an apology. Danny shook his head with a smile and gripped him in a fierce hug. I didn't even realize I was smiling at the sight until Danny's eyes caught mine and he mouthed a grateful 'thank you'. It was so sweet I had to put down my margarita and rethink my life choices. I caught Aunt Laur and Susannah sitting together and seeing it too: Laurel pouted her bottom lip at her friend and Susannah's eyes sparkled with unshed tears.

When the party got to the point of only relying on the patio and pool lights, I distracted myself with the first steps of organized clean up. Steven joined me not long after, saying that he needed an excuse for a quiet task to keep his hands busy. Usually I would have pressed for more information but I was surviving off fumes by that point. Maybe everyone was. Nicole and Danny stopped by to say goodbye and thanked us for a great party. I hugged them both and looked around to realize that it was only the family left after that. Jeremiah and Belly said something about how they'd make up for their clean up crew shift in the morning and were nowhere to be found after that.

Eventually, when Susannah's porcelain serving platter almost slipped from my hands and into pieces on the kitchen floor, Laurel told me I'd done enough and shooed me upstairs. I debated washing the day off before I crashed into bed but worried I'd actually fall asleep under the warm spray. I'd just managed to get into a baggy Cousin's Rowing t-shirt and sleep shorts before I drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

It was the creak of the old wooden drawers of Belly's dresser that pulled me out of deep slumber. The room was bright with sunlight shining through the curtains and I had slept right on anyway. I yawned as Belly made a face in my direction and grabbed her crop top.

"I'm sorry! I was just gonna change before I got to the beach. I don't wanna miss the chance on our last day."

"What time is it?" I looked around the room when my phone wasn't on my nightstand like usual. It landed on the end of my bed with a thump.

"After 10. Here. I found it on the kitchen table when I came in last night. Figured I should plug it in for you."

I smiled and saw that it was, indeed, fully charged. "You're sweet."

"The least I could do. You barely left anything for me and Jere to finish up this morning."

"Yeah, I was on a mission." I looked at her smiley face as she pulled her top over her bikini. "So. About you and Jere…"

Belly was never good at hiding things from me and her face screamed guilt even as she tried to shrug it off. "What do you mean?"

"Belly. Come on." She looked at me then, waiting. "You guys hung out all day yesterday and then you left together last night. What's going on there?"

The poor thing looked scared, "You're not mad?"

I rolled my eyes, "Is there something to be mad about? I mean, if you guys like each other…it's not gonna be easy but there are worse things."

"Wow, you should sleep in more often. Oh, don't forget to check the kitchen when you get up. Conrad went out early and got the good muffins."

"Oh, nice. But you're not off the hook about this Jere thing."

She pulled her lip balm out of her pocket and smeared it across her bottom lip. "It's not anything yet. When there's something to tell, I'll let you know."

"You better."

I took a moment to check my phone and saw an unread message from an unknown number. Hey, it's Danny. Jeremiah swore it was cool if he gave me your number so I hope that's okay. It was nice seeing you yesterday. The look on my face must have given me away because Belly was laughing at my expense in almost no time.

"Let me guess. Danny decided to text you after all." She wiggled her brows and giggled.

"Did you know about this?"

"I was there when Jere was trying to convince him. Poor guy actually thought you rejected him because of Conrad." Belly didn't seem to notice if my face reacted to that tidbit. "I told him there wasn't any reason you couldn't come back to Cousin's this summer if you had some good incentive."

She wasn't wrong. It wasn't like I had plans like Steven and Belly. I didn't need to be anywhere until the middle of August. I didn't need to shut everything down before it even started; before giving it a chance to be something to forget about at all. It was a nice thought that was almost immediately ruined by Conrad's look of relief when I told him I'd do the exact opposite. Maybe in a different world where I wasn't leaving for California in five weeks, or if I had any concrete plans of spending more time in Cousin's this summer, I'd feel different. Not to mention that I still didn't have the slightest idea where Conrad's head was at after yesterday and I wasn't sure I even wanted to. The world in which I could be excited about this didn't exist and it was time to make peace with that.

"You know he invited me to his ball game? I can't believe I have to leave before seeing him in those white pants."

"Y/N!" Belly threw her stuffed polar bear, Junior Mint, at my chest and I caught it with a laugh. "I knew you liked him. He got so much hotter this year, I'm a little jealous I didn't get there first."

I gasped dramatically, "I'm telling Jeremiah!"

"I'm kidding…kind of. I mean, I'm definitely leaving but Danny Wilder could inspire a hot girl summer."

"Mm. Period." I looked back at the text and wondered if I should just leave it altogether. My stomach grumbled and it distracted me enough to leave it be for now and wave Belly off to the beach to have her fun.

I shuffled down the stairs to the kitchen after my shower, remembering the muffins Belly said would be waiting for me. The box was on the island like always and I smiled at the small victory. I really should have missed my chance at one, let alone my favourite, coming down after 11am. I opened the box and considered my choices when I heard someone clear their throat. I looked towards the sound and found Conrad standing in the doorway.

"Uh…I uh, saved you a carrot. It's under the cake plate." He gestured to the other side of the counter where it waited for me.

"Oh. Thanks." I walked that way and saw him shift his stance uncomfortably, and look down at his feet. I forced myself to give him the credit he deserved at that moment with a look of sincerity. "You didn't have to do that."

He looked pleasantly surprised, "It's no problem. You uh…call it a thanks for cleaning up last night. My mom really appreciated it."

"Of course. Anything for Susannah."

It was the most polite we'd ever been to each other in our entire lives. I wasn't even sure it was real since there were no witnesses to prove I wasn't making the whole thing up somehow. Belly and Steven would laugh in my face if I told them. But that didn't stop the awkwardness from getting worse by the second and finally I couldn't take it anymore. Conrad looked like he wanted to say something else but I couldn't hear it, whatever it was and I was scared that I already knew. Instead of giving him the chance, I mumbled a quick 'thanks again' and 'see you later' before bolting back upstairs with my carrot muffin in hand and shut the door behind me. I leaned back against it and wondered how I'd avoid whatever that was for the next 24 hours before my time in Cousin's would come to an end.

___________________________________________

author's note: I hope you enjoyed part 2 of 4th of July! How are we feeling at this point? Don't worry because there's still lots more story to come even if Y/N thinks her journey is ending. Next chapter is a day at the boardwalk! Thank you again for the continued support 💚💛🧡❤️. Reply with comments and let me know if you wanna be added to my taglist. If you'd like to ask me about any upcoming chapter warnings you wanna be warned of ahead of time (angst? 18+ smut?) then come visit my blog with any questions and I'll be happy to answer!

taglist: @c4rpediem-s @jackierose902109 @lcvecstiel @h0t-as-h3ll @stylesxroyalty @fandom-addict404 @hellofutur @junnniiieee07 @shelby-x @historygeekqueen

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher x you #team conrad #the summer i turned pretty #tsitp conrad #the summer i turned pretty au #the summer i turned pretty imagine #the summer i turned pretty fanfic #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher au #conrad fisher x fem!reader #Spotify

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caramel1mochi · 4 months ago

Note

VYSE X READER VYSE X READER PLLSSSS VYSE X READER

SOBBING PLS MAKE THIS HAPPEN

Thanks for the request! Sorry for the wait, I swear I couldn't come up with anything until I saw the holiday ads. I don't know what we're celebrating but I've gobbled up 3 Grinch cakes already. Anyway hope it's to your liking!

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Bewitching [ Vyse x F! Reader ]

Words: 1k+

Please don't copy or steal my work and pass it off as your own! If you'd like to use one of my headcanons or something, I'd love it if you tagged or asked.‎ ‎‎ ‎

ㅤ

。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ· +❤·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·

This is a horrible idea.

These were the only words that ran through your mind during the entire festival. And with each note strung on an instrument, each move carried out by a dancer, they not only continued lingering in your brain, in fact, they were getting louder. The urge to rip off all of your fancy clothes and call everything off became overwhelming, but you knew your girlfriend wouldn't stand for it.

You picked at your fingers as you stared at your reflection in the pond in front of you. The pond was meant to be magical. But now? It only felt like another thing that mocked you for accepting this invitation.

With a huff, you stood up and turned to your girlfriend.

"Vyse, are you sure we should keep going?"

She wasn't looking at you. Instead, she watched the bustling crowd in the distance, the festival you two had to abandon just so you could gather your thoughts. The music was muffled from here. Compared to the array of colourful lights, the waters you were near was dim and hardly lit up by the moon above, but her tall frame stood out amongst the darkness.

Then, she spoke.

ㅤ

"What do you mean?"

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"You know what I− this entire date is a mistake. We never should've left the base!"

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You hastily explained as you walked towards her, lifting your colourful dress to avoid stepping on the expensive fabric. You knew she was feigning ignorance just by that exaggerated tone she always took on.

She turned around to glance at you, the yellow glow from those slits piercing your eyes with ease.

ㅤ

"And why not, Y/N? Are you afraid of a few people's eyes on us?"

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"It's not us I'm worried about, it's you! People are staring at you!"

ㅤ

To you, she looked stunning, even when you never saw a smidgen of her features. Not her face, skin, nothing. You found the beauty in the metal that encased her skin, its reflective surface scattering the light in an array of colours and letting it all swirl in an alluring dance.

But she looked like a complete monster to the rest. You could tell by the pure horror on their faces when you entered earlier, how wide their eyes had gotten upon spotting her.

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"And that should that warrant my attention because...?"

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You sighed.

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"Look at Kay/O — his appearance draws attention like yours. He doesn't ever leave the base, and I−"

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You yelped once a vine wrapped around your waist. Within a split second, you were shoved towards Vyse, her hands gripping your shoulders the moment you landed against her torso. The adrenaline rendered you unable to protest against what she just did.

ㅤ

"Kay/O's cowardly decisions are his own, Y/N." A hand slithered around your waist, further trapping you. "If I'm unconcerned with how I'm perceived, why should you be?"

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"At least show your face. Just this once? Please?"

ㅤ

Her 'ears' rose upright at this plea, and Vyse couldn't help but observe your soft features in silence. For a moment, despite her unreadable expression, you believed that she would listen; that she would finally take the thing off and let this only public date between you two go smoothly.

She caressed your cheek with two metal-encased fingers, the cold sensation brushing against your skin.

ㅤ

"Y/N, it's a privilege to admire me. If it gets too bothersome, then I'll strip them of it. Simple."

ㅤ

Her hands shifted downwards until her fingers intertwined with yours, embracing your warmth with the tender hold. Then, she took a step back, bringing you alongside her.

ㅤ

"Now, let's go before we miss the festival."

ㅤ

You were pretty much forced to follow her given her strength. Besides, who were you to deny her this opportunity after imprisonment at the Scions of Hourglass? But again, you were so still preoccupied with the staring. It felt like a spotlight shining upon you two, and you weren't doing anything beyond... attending the festival. It felt so shameful.

And you were proven right the moment you made your way among the people.

The crowds' stares preceded the entertainment that surrounded you. The extravagant decorations, stunning dances and intricate displays of artwork seemed insignificant next to your girlfriend, her mere presence dragging all eyes towards her with relative ease.

But it didn't seem to bother her. In fact, she kept the light conversation between you two alive, observing the exhibits in the process. However, you couldn't really focus no matter how much you tried. The staring was just too distracting.

Then, Vyse stopped.

ㅤ

"Look at this little display."

ㅤ

Following her gaze, you were drawn to a nearby gathering just next to you.

Amongst the foliage sat a stage where a band played an enchanting albeit loud tune. And if that wasn't impressive enough, there were also dancers positioned in front of them, each donning a bright fabric that swayed behind them as they moved.

Vyse was right, this was worth both of your time.

ㅤ

"This feels less dismal then the rest."

ㅤ

You hummed with a smile.

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"Let's check it out."

ㅤ

She accompanied you as you marched between the tables to find one suitable and empty. Which, luckily, didn't take too long. You picked out a table near the front and the two of you sat down. There, you were finally given the chance to enjoy the show in peace. And surprisingly, you did.

It felt like nobody stared at you. You glanced at the people who sat next to you out of the corner of your eye, but you couldn't find a single person ogling. They were all enjoying the dance just as much as you and Vyse did.

For a moment, you were highly pleased by this. And you thought that maybe, it wasn't that Vyse just looked captivating, it was just that the festival wasn't interesting enough to keep the rest occupi−

Your eyes widened at the sound of a camera shutter next you.

But just as you went to look at the culprit, portions of the ground ripped apart once vines emerged from them. While some surrounded you, most of them encircled a certain table... next to you, too. Vyse had left her seat by the time you realised what was going on. And quickly, you stood up to look for your girlfriend, only to find her marching towards one of the tables where a different couple sat.

The man's phone was on the ground, a picture of Vyse on the screen, and their chairs were surrounded by razor-sharp vines adorned with thorns. They were trapped.

Vyse loomed over them.

ㅤ

"Looks like you have a death-wish." The vines' grip around the chairs tightened. "Shall I make it so?"

ㅤ

You approached and held her hand, attempting to pull her back towards you.

ㅤ

"Sweetie, don't hurt them."

ㅤ

Your words didn't sway her. In fact, it worsened the panic in the couple given that you unwittingly confirmed that Vyse meant her threat.

The man shakily mumbled something under his breath. Given that it was inaudible to either of you, Vyse stepped closer and stooped over to level their gazes.

ㅤ

"I didn't quite catch that. Do me a favour and repeat yourself."

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"S− sorry, I'm− I'm sorry about that, madam..."

ㅤ

Vyse hummed at his pitiful stammering. She stood upright once more, throwing them one final glare before deeming his apology 'acceptable'. And luckily for them, the vines disappeared back into the ground.

But just as the couple thought it was finally over, she crossed her fingers, and with an audible crack, his phone was ripped into many pieces; any hope of it being repaired immediately went down the drain.

ㅤ

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

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"Vyse!"

ㅤ

Vyse waved you off in the midst of her malevolent giggling.

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"Lighten up; that could've been him." She promptly began moving, ignoring their panicked exchange at that comment. "Come along, Y/N."

ㅤ

The music drowned out their words of terror as you two walked off. Her hand now around your waist, she accompanied you back to the table you sat on to enjoy the show once more.

And so, the date continued like nothing happened.

But for some reason, the stares stopped, and nobody seemed to have the heart to even throw either of you a glance the whole time. And it was... great. You finally felt at ease. You couldn't help but smile merrily as you observed the festival with a newfound sense of peace.

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scenetocause · 7 months ago

Note

lil headcanon of girloscar for silverstone '24 weekend plz if u would be open to it??

i'm actually writing a chewy girloscar first win/austria/logan's 2024 thing that's all got a bit in depth and will probably end at silverstone but here's a little fluffy bit of side scene

It's wet and - Lando doesn't like it, obviously but - Oscar gets a unique level of miserable in the rain. She can't wear shorts or she'll get wet legs, which always pisses her off and then apparently her jeans rub her between her thighs when they're wet and the team shoes aren't waterproof and even though this year Lando actually made her request one of the proper team coats she really resents wearing it.

Especially at Silverstone, which he hadn't realised sort of makes Oscar grumpy as a place. He'd quite enjoyed Melbourne, with all of Oscar's people around them but the scale is pretty different here. It's not just Lando's family and a few early-years sponsors or something, it's the entire UK (or something) showing up and Sky breathlessly hyping that he's going to win and then some sort of patriotic collective orgasm will happen.

He forgot to vote in the election, too, which feels like it should be understandable given they were doing twenty interviews that day but Oscar had a go at him about it in some sort of stressed way and he's just not really sure what's up with her this week.

They're sharing a driver room because of the motorhome thing, which he'd thought would be nice but seems to be exacerbating whatever Oscar's beef is. Normally they hang out with each other in one of them anyway, hiding together from media and VIP commitments and getting each other off when they're not meant to be.

Instead, Oscar is glaring at something on an iPad - probably Lando's tyre data - and jiggling her slightly-damp leg like it will help the denim dry faster. It's setting his teeth on edge.

Her digging through his data is nothing new and he doesn't mind, that's sort of the point. He's had a cheeky look through some of Jenson's and Lewis' from 2008, it can't hurt. But this feels less like something she's doing to gain something and more like distraction or even self-flagellation.

Well, he's been told he's very distracting. "Hey."

Him grabbing her ankle makes her look up, at least. Sometimes it's best to be blunt. "What's up with you?"

She sighs, makes a sort of grumbling noise and pushes the heels of her palms into her eyes, huffing. "Nothing - it's stupid."

Lando has to bite his lip for a second before leaning into a cliche. "If it's bothering you it's not nothing. Or stupid."

At least that makes her glare at him, rather than the iPad. She sighs again, kicking her legs out and slumping back on the sofa, eyes closed like she can't bear to perceive this too much.

"You didn't - yesterday, you didn't tell me you were going to be sexy and I turned up in a fucking sweater."

It almost has him blindsided for a moment because this is a completely unreal thing for Oscar to care about. "What?"

"You were all-" she does something with her hand that he thinks means 'fancy' or something "-and I'm fucking dressed like a toddler. Because it's your home race and I'm not trying to - I mean, I don't anyway but like. I don't want to look like a bad girlfriend and it's just-"

"It was a sexy sweater." It's probably not the most helpful thing he can say but still.

"What?" She's looking at him again but with total incredulity.

"Sexy. Makes you look all soft and warm to, uh, hug. Nice shoulders, good to kiss. Like you could pick me up in the paddock again."

In all fairness, the first time had been because he'd only had his socks on when the motorhome caught fire. But Oscar carrying him over to a chair in a bridal hold has spawned a thousand TikTok edits that Lando can't pretend he's stopped watching.

Even when they're calling him pathetic, he can see the tender way she picks him up, uses her forearm to support his back so she doesn't hurt him, holds him close to her as she puts him down. It's a type of loved he'd never realised he wanted to be, until she showed him how nice it is to be looked after.

It's his turn to do that for her, though.

She blinks up at him, where he's perched on the arm of the sofa, avoiding her agitated jiggling earlier. It's enough to make him not quite launch himself at her but tumble down so they can tangle together, cuddling the way he'd wanted to earlier.

"You think weird shit is sexy," she observes, stroking his hair to take the sting out of it.

That just makes him snort. "You think I'm sexy."

Oscar's laughing, at least, when she says "Well fucking everyone thinks that now, don't they? Slutty little vest thing."

"Don't slut-shame me or I won't let you put anything up my arse." He nestles closer to her, gets a hand on her boobs, through her team shirt, in the way that gives Sophie a headache because it leaves visible crumpling.

"Yeah you will," Oscar sounds a little bit amused, still. "Who doesn't want to get fisted after winning their home race?"

When he's squirming his way through a fucking - he still has no idea what Darktrace actually is - sponsor session later, still half-chubbed with way too little time before qualifying, at least she's knocking her hand against his and giggling at their inside jokes again.

#emptyhalf fic

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alviearts · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! I was trying to figure out the least awkward way to talk about Silver gender stuff and settled on this but please don't feel like you have to answer publicly if you don't want. So it's in this series, which basically takes off from the idea of Flint teaching Silver to cook after the pig roasting scene - Silver goes to him and says if you want me to keep up this illusion you have to keep teaching me. There are definitely hints in the second installment, but it's the last chapter of the third one where it really goes all out; Silver ends up dressed in silk and jewels from a prize, and gets treated like the pretty princess he deserves to be 🥰 I'm really interested in Silver's relationship with gender because of how he plays with identity in different ways, and how he sort of refuses to engage in some of the classic hypermasculine pirate stuff, he doesn't claim to be brave and tough and able to fight, that's not where his power comes from, in fact he actively undermines that image with the addresses and such, he gets by being charming and nonthreatening which can be perceived as a more feminine way of moving through the world. And I'm interested in how that interacts with some of the softness we see from Flint in private, even though he IS projecting that hypermasculine image as captain to some extent.

Anyway sorry for rambling, I'm obsessed with that art and I'm convinced it would taste of the same lovely lavender as the shade of the dress <3 Thank you so much for sharing, and I can't wait to see a version with the fancy prosthetic if you end up doing one.

Oh PS that fic also references Flint doing some gender play stuff in London with the Hamiltons... a favorite headcanon, he would love to be able to take a break from the roles he assumes... there is so much potential for both of them.

YAYYAY SILVER GENDER TIME

ive actually read that series!! and i love it, its so good! it definitely made me want to draw silver in a dress even more. (tho i'd already designed the dress before reading it)

i love the observation that he doesnt engage in the typical pirate masculinity, or place his worth in his physical strength or battle prowess. some characters in other shows would be highly demeaned for moving through the world this way (cough cough starscream transformers) but silver isnt--he's shown as a formidable enemy, both to flint at the start of the show and to anyone who would oppose him at the end... including, again, flint. who is, like you said, projecting a hypermasculine image as captain. even if that isnt exactly who he is inside, he places his outward worth as captain on his ability to intimidate, his ability in a fight, his success by typical pirate standards. so the fact that silver, who makes his success in a more stereotypically feminine way, triumphs over him is interesting to me. normally feminine men, men who move through the world the way silver does, would be demeaned by the characters and the plot, shown to be incompetent or lesser. but not in black sails <3

and im so glad you like my painting, i loved making it but was a little worried that nobody would like it or see value in it due to the ahistorical nature and, of course, the fact that i drew a pirate in a dress--WITH leg hair which. people seem to think if you wear a dress you cant have leg hair. which is weird lol. i didnt want to play into that. i think hairy men can also be femme and wear dresses and they look good doing it <3

#askbox #etoilesombre #black sails #john silver

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druidbottles · 9 months ago

Text

The Protection of Innocence

Legend doesn't like opening up to people. He wants to be seen as strong. After waking up from a nightmare, a conversation with Wind manages to get him to loosen up just a little. It's not much, but it's a start.

This is just a little something I thought up. Legend has me in a chokehold constantly.

I wanted to write him being soft. And Wind has such little brother energy, I think he probably has that effect on most people.

I'm still new to Linked Universe and Legend of Zelda in general, so I apologize if characterization isn't great!

You can also read this over on AO3!

Legend was a seasoned adventurer, and at this point in his life, there wasn't much that he wasn't able to handle, no matter how much life tried to throw at him. He always managed to make it through even the most difficult of situations. He was strong, and there was nothing he hated more than having other people perceive him as weak.

Which was why it was so frustrating when he bolted upright in the middle of the night, a gasp leaving him as he was shaken out of his nightmare, only to turn his head to the side and see that Wind was awake, and staring right at him with curious, concerned eyes.

He considered just ignoring him, rolling over and going back to sleep without saying a word, but before he had the chance to do anything, a quiet voice pierced through the silence of the small camp they had created. “Are you alright, Vet?” The voice sounded somewhat nervous and unsure, and although Legend really didn't want to discuss this any further, he couldn't ignore that the kid sounded genuinely concerned and meant well.

He sighed and slumped forward a bit, not letting any of the residual tension from his nightmare show on his face. “Just had a bad dream. You gonna be up for much longer?”

Wind looked up at the moon, seemingly thinking about something before shrugging his shoulders. “I've been on watch for a while, so I'll probably be switching out with the captain in a bit.” He went silent for a moment, his gaze lingering just over Legend's shoulder, as if he was too nervous to make direct eye contact. “Do you wanna talk about your dream?”

Legend reached up to run a hand through his hair, instinctively groaning at the thought of sharing his dream with another person, let alone a kid like Wind. “I think I'm good. You should get some sleep, though. I'll take over for you until the captain wakes up.”

When he moved to stand up, he couldn't help but notice an exaggerated pout pass across the sailor’s face. Wind crossed his arms over his chest, casting a wary glance at Legend. “You don't need to coddle me just because I'm a kid, you know. I can handle being on watch just as well as the rest of you.”

Legend chuckled a bit at that, shaking his head as he stood and brushed himself off, making his way towards the log where Wind sat before a crackling fire. “Trust me, it has nothing to do with whether or not I think you're capable. I'm just gonna have trouble falling back asleep now, so I might as well be useful to you.” He settled down next to him, his eyes gazing at the flickering flames. “Seriously, it's not a big deal and I'd be staying up anyways. It'll be worse tomorrow if both of us are low on sleep.”

Wind didn't seem entirely convinced, and a tense silence passed between the two of them for several moments before he finally let out a sigh. “But you're sure you don't want company or something? I know I'm the youngest, but I'm really not weak at all! I can be useful!”

Legend paused for a moment when he heard him say that. He couldn't help but feel sympathetic towards Wind, as he understood the feeling of not wanting to be seen as anything but strong, and that surely wasn't easy for Wind when he was the youngest in the group and everyone saw him as a kid.

It took him a moment to figure out what to say, but with some consideration, he was finally able to speak, his gaze still remaining on the fire in front of him. “I know that you're strong, and trust me when I say that you've been very useful in everything we've done so far. You're young, but you're still a hero just like the rest of us.” Legend spoke earnestly, more softness in his voice than he was used to there being. “But even heroes need sleep. And like I said, it's better that at least one of us is well rested tomorrow.”

He could feel Wind still looking at him, but the younger boy didn't say anything. After what felt like a long time, he spoke in a quiet voice once more. “But you're sure you'll be alright by yourself? I know you just had a nightmare and all…”

Legend paused again as he realized that Wind wasn't just doing this because he didn't want to be seen as a child. Part of the reason he insisted on staying awake was because he wanted to protect him, comfort him after a bad dream. And as much as Legend hated being perceived as weak, he couldn't deny that something about that made him feel warm.

“How about this?” Legend finally turned to look at him and offered a small smile. “I’ll stay up with you during your watch because I'm having trouble sleeping. And if at any point you start to feel tired and want to get some more rest, I'll keep watch until the captain gets up. But only if you decide to go to bed yourself.”

Wind considered this, nose scrunching up in thought, but ultimately nodded his head in agreement. “Okay, that sounds good.”

And so the two of them sat in silence for a long while, watching the flames as they danced in the night air. It was a peaceful feeling, and Legend felt the lingering stress from his nightmare slowly melt away as a cool breeze brushed against his skin and he listened to the soft snores of his companions. When he glanced over at Wind, he could see the boy rubbing his eyes and yawning, but he didn't comment on it. He had made his deal, and Wind would go to bed when he decided on it.

After another little bit, Legend felt a shift beside him, and he looked over to see Wind slowly hoisting himself up from the log. The kid glanced back at him, another yawn escaping him before he spoke in a groggy voice. “You sure you'll be okay if I go to sleep?”

Legend chuckled and nodded, and Wind stretched his arms above his head before grunting in response. “Okay, I think I'm going to try and sleep a bit, then.” He stumbled towards his bedroll, his footsteps uncoordinated and clumsy because of how drowsy he was. “Thank you for taking over for me, Vet.”

Legend nodded in response, watching Wind as he settled down and pulled his blanket up to his chin. “Goodnight.” The sailor spoke in a quiet voice that was laced with sleep, clearly already falling into a deep slumber..

Looking back to the crackling of the flames before him, Legend couldn't help but smile just a little. “Sweet dreams, sailor.”

And when Wind shifted in his bedroll, a contented sigh escaping his lips as he snuggled deeper into his blanket, Legend felt that warmth in his heart again. For the first time in a long time, he felt like maybe it was worth it to open up to someone, that maybe he could trust Wind and the others more than he gave them credit for.

And he considered that maybe next time he was awoken by a nightmare, it would be alright to tell someone about it, instead of bottling it up like usual. That thought made him smile despite himself, glancing over at his sleeping companions, and chuckling to himself. He wondered what they were dreaming about. They all had their own traumas, and he was sure many of them had memories that haunted them, but as he sat in front of the warm fire, listening to the sounds of soft snores and tired bodies shifting in their sleep, he truly did hope they were having sweet dreams.

#linked universe #linked universe fanfiction #lu legend #lu wind #text post #druid writing #druid posting

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