#but I actually don't mind all that much? it's like I'm eating tiny rocks that taste like pennies :) not the worst thing I've ever eaten | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

revasserium · 1 year ago

Note

hiii i'm a new follower and i love your writing so much

ik u said no requests in ur bio but i just finished reading ur sanji fic.. so even if ur still not taking requests i'd just like to throw in an idea that u may or may not feel like using in the future, up to you (i'm requesting this with opla sanji in mind but if u wanna use it for zoro that's cool too)

k so imagine reader being invited to a friend's wedding, & being excited to go until they find out their ex is coming too (with their partner of some amt of yrs). so now reader is pressured to bring someone w/ them & ends up asking their best friend sanji bc they don't want others thinking they're still hung up on the past.

wedding dress

opla!sanji; 6,544 words, pining with a happy ending, fluff and a tad of angst, flirting, lovesick!sanji, whipped!!!!sanji, no "y/n", zeff is a whole mood, confessions, sanji-appropriate nickname usage, modern!au?

summary: you invite sanji to be your plus 1 at a wedding

a/n: im so sorry this took so long. but. better late than? never? also, there is a tiny bit of rehashing for ep 6 of the live action for sanji and zeff's relationship so... spoilers?

It’s a chilly, overcast kind of day when the call comes in. And in retrospect, Sanji thinks he should’ve known better when he’d seen your name on the caller ID. He’d hesitated, because by god if it wasn’t his New Year's Resolution to get the hell over you this year, but it’s almost December again and he still can’t help the way his heart races at the sound of your voice.

“Hey sweetheart — long time no talk!” he answers after a brief moment of contemplating his entire life, dusting his flour-covered hands on his apron.

“Hey! Sorry for calling so… out of the blue…” your voice is still as sweet as ever, and the way his stomach twists at the tinkle of your nervous laughter makes him want to kick himself. Still, he forces himself to stay calm, clearing his throat as he checks the oven — it’s almost done pre-heating.

“Now you know what I said about actin’ a stranger — just because you moved halfway across the entire world doesn’t mean we ain’t best friends anymore, right?”

It’s what you’d said when he’d been standing at the airport, three seconds from dropping to his knees and begging you not to go. But he hadn’t, because he knew how hard you’d worked for this — for this opportunity abroad, to study art in the birthplace of the Renaissance itself, in the heart of Italy.

“And… you might be able to come visit me, right?” you’d said, rocking on the balls of your feet, your eyes full of what Sanji could only call false hope — which is always, always the worst and most painful kind.

Sanji had swallowed and nodded and said something or other about Europe and fine dining, but there’s a terrible, prickling heat eating up the back of his neck and a voice that’s screaming at him to pull you to him and kiss you. He doesn’t. And he regrets it to this day.

“Ah — right… I’m actually calling because… I’ll be in the area in about a week and…”

Your voice pulls him out of his reverie and he clears his throat, hitches a smile to his face that he knows you can’t see but he’s sure you can hear.

“Oh! That’s great, darling! You’ve gotta come for a drink, I’ll whip up all your favorites — we can make a night —”

“It’s actually for a wedding.”

There are a few moments in everyone’s lives when they learn the true meaning of a thing for the very first time — elation, pride, stomach-twisting guilt, and… fear. True fear, the kind of fear that shakes the muscle from your bones and sends them tingling, threatens to overwhelm you with numbness. Fear, that pushes adrenaline through you like a drug, forces the world into a terrifying, all-consuming focus.

Sanji feels the fear coursing through him, wild and contentious at your words.

A wedding.

Your wedding? Perhaps?

He can’t bear to think of it; he’s so terrified he can barely breathe.

Then comes the moment after, the wave of everything else that the fear had washed away — confusion, anger, guilt (always guilt, for some reason), because isn’t he supposed to be happy for you? For you, the person he loves most in this entire world, to find love, to know happiness. He should. He should.

“Oh.”

Sanji sags back against the hard, metal counter. Almost mindlessly, he reaches into his pockets with shaking hands, digging around for a smoke.

Your breath is soft in his ear, too far across the phone line and a thousand miles of ocean.

“I originally wasn’t even planning on going — she’s not a very close friend — we had like one class together but —”

And within the span of a minute, Sanji also learns relief. The kind that melts the world around you into sizzling butter and champagne bubbles. The kind that makes you want to lie down on the ground and scream.

“— it was so close to your restaurant so I said yes but I didn’t know he was gonna be there and —”

You’re still talking, rambling like you do. And it takes nearly everything inside Sanji to pull himself back to the conversation.

“Sorry, love, who did you say was gonna be there?”

“My ex — you know the one —”

Sanji grimaces, flicking on his lighter with still-shaking fingers.

“Mm, yeah I do. The tall, dark-haired bastard who —”

“Yeah well — he’s gonna be there too and I just —” he hears you swallow hard and take a long, steadying breath. An unnameable something is calcifying in the depths of his stomach as he waits for you to collect yourself.

Curiosity? Why had you called like this, so suddenly, about a wedding where your ex was going to be? Concern? Were you thinking of going back to him?

But slowly, as you stutter through your next few words, the unnameable thing obtains a name — dread.

“— I just don’t think I could do it myself, y’know? And — and you were the one who got me out of it wh-when I decided to break it off with him so…”

Sanji takes a long drag of his cigarette and casts his eyes up at the high, white-slabbed ceiling of the kitchen, scored with long strips of bright, fluorescent lighting that floods the entire room in a direct, unforgiving glow.

He closes his eyes and counts to three.

“Course I’ll come with you, darlin’. It —” he wets his lips, taps off a bit of ash from his cigarette, and sucks in through his nose, clearing his throat of the words still lodged there, “— it’d be my honor.”

Relief — he hears it in your voice, and by gods he can almost see it — the way your whole face would light up, washed as if by the setting sun, your eyes wide and dark, your cheeks flushing his favorite fucking shade of pink and —

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I really owe you for this one —”

Sanji makes a valiant effort at a nonchalant chuckle; it comes out sounding like a dog with a bit of bone stuck in its throat instead.

“Nonsense — what are best friends for, anyway?”

There’s a tiny pause where Sanji can feel the words best friend scraping along the insides of his mouth, barbed and harsh, leaving his tongue feeling raw and metallic.

“You really are the best friend anyone could ask for,” your voice is soft and honest and Sanji wants nothing more than to chuck his phone into the industrial blender.

You tell him that you’ll send him the details, that you can’t wait to see him soon, that you’ve got a world and a half of catching up to do, that you’ll buy him so, so many drinks, and that you’ll come bearing presents. He laughs at the right times, makes soft noises of consent and agreement, and when finally, finally you tell him goodbye, he clicks off the phone and takes another long drag of his smoke.

And then, he whips his hand back and throws the cigarette butt into the large sink, where it tinks against the metal and sizzles sadly in the murky dishwater.

“Real sucker for punishment, aren’tcha, lil’ eggplant?”

Sanji groans, turning around to find Zeff with his arms folded, the hip to his bad leg propped against a counter.

“Will you fuck kindly off — can’t you see I’m going through a thing here?”

Zeff snorts, clunking unevenly towards him.

“You been going through that thing for the last year and a half since you chickened outta askin’ her to stay so —”

“I didn’t chicken out — I — it was her dream to go to Florence and study —”

“And what was your dream then, ey?”

Sanji bangs his palm against the counter and sighs, “It’s not like I could leave you here with —”

“With what? A thriving restaurant business that I started? A guest list out the door and round the corner —”

“I — I helped!”

Zeff rolls his eyes, “Ah sure ya did, but I never asked you to, did I?”

Sanji huffs, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth to stop the torrent of horrible, sad, acrid things he could say and could never mean, so he swallows them back down. When he looks up next, Zeff is still standing there, but there’s a softness around his eyes.

He opens his mouth a few times, but eventually, all he says is, “The oven’s over heatin’.”

Sanji swears and jumps up to tug open the oven door. A wave of hot air whooshes out and nearly catches him in the face. Behind him, he can hear Zeff’s dark, gravelly chuckle, and the dull clunk of his wooden leg.

“You burn the kitchen down, you pay for it.”

And then he’s gone again, leaving the door swinging behind him, and Sanji very much alone with the too-hot oven and a counter full of things he can’t really remember the recipes for anymore.

Nearly a week later, Sanji finds himself standing at the airport, rocking on the balls of his feet, nearly in the exact same place as he’d been a year and a half prior. Except this time, you’re not walking away from him. You’re walking back towards him. He wonders if there’s a name for deja-vu in reverse and comes to the realization that that’s just called… a memory.

And memory seems to work in strange ways now, images superimposing themselves on top of one another — the flicker of a film lens, the bat of an eyelash, the shadow of a smile crimping the corner of your lips. All of this, he sees in the here and now, but he sees it in the air around you too, shimmering and mirage-like — all his memories and dreams of you layered over the shape of you. Your memory like a ghost of itself, trailing behind you as you walk towards him, a shy smile on your face, your cheeks flushed from travel and the cold and —

He doesn’t let himself hope. Not this time.

“Hey!” your voice is just as bell-like as he remembers it, pitched a little higher than it usually is, probably out of nervousness. But it still feels like a kick to the guts. Sanji forces himself to smile.

“Hi, love,” he says, leaning down as you reach him, but the motion aborts halfway because — is it still appropriate to hug you like he’d always done? To press his lips to your cheek or your hairline and revel in the bright citrus of your shampoo, to soak in the butter and cream of your skin like he used to?

There’s an awkward half-second pause before you’re standing up on tip-toe and Sanji’s heart nearly drops out of his ass as you lean in. But then — your lips skim by his cheek and your arms are around him, and stupid, stupid, stupid heart — thundering in his chest like horses or hooves or fists or thumping rabbit’s feet — leaping into his throat and pattering against the base of his tongue as he wraps his arms around you and holds you close. But it’s not close enough. It’s never close enough.

He breathes and distantly, a part of him notes that you still use the same shampoo.

“Hi…” your voice is warm by his ear, a bit muffled, but he can’t help the way it makes him shiver, “It’s… so good to see you.”

He nods, not trusting his own voice to do the normal thing and, oh, you know — work.

“I’ve — I’ve missed you.”

He makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and a cough as he nods again. He feels your arms slackening around him and a fierce, terrifying thing is flapping its wings in his stomach, screeching at him not to let you go. But he does — like he did before.

“I — I missed you too,” he says, though his voice sounds flat and scratchy and he clears his throat again.

A dozen different expressions flicker across the lovely planes of your face and finally, it settles on endeared exasperation.

“Please don’t tell me you still work through like three packs of smokes a day.”

Sanji laughs then, shaking his head as he reaches over for your luggage, “Nah — well, maybe not three but —”

You whack him softly on the arm.

“I actually tried to quit right after you left.”

“You did?”

Sanji shrugs as the pair of you start to make for the exit. He feels your gaze go slanted and shrewd.

“How long’d that last?”

He smirks, “Few hours.”

You whack him again and this time, he dodges out of the way just to bask in the bright spark of your laughter as you chase after him.

“Seriously though, you know how terrible they are for you!”

“Sure do,” he says, tugging one out of his pocket as soon as he clears the airport doors, pivoting left towards the parking garage. You have to jog to keep up with his longer strides, your breaths misting the air between you in silvery puffs.

He makes no move to light it as he helps toss your luggage into the trunk of his car, sliding into the driver’s seat. You huff as you wiggle into the passenger’s side.

“Then why —”

Sanji waits patiently for you to buckle your seatbelt before pulling out of the parking space, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting soft against the middle console. He slates you a glance.

“Cause,” he says, fixing his eyes back on the road, an easy smirk twisting his lips, “it’s a metaphor.”

You groan, sinking into the seat, “Just because you read John Green one time —”

“Oi, I’ll have you know I read his entire bibliography after you showed him to me.”

“Ugh, whatever you manic-pixie-dreamgirl-loving ass.”

“Yeah, whatever — you actual manic pixie dreamgirl.”

You smile and Sanji allows himself the brief and aching delusion that the past year and a half didn’t happen, that you never left, and that you’d never leave. That you’d always be here, warm and laughing and just within reach.

The rest of the car ride is spent in mundane conversation, in how was your flight and tell me about Florence and how’s Zeff doing these days and I wanna know about your latest dish. It’s light and easy, and Sanji lets it warm the air around him. By the time he pulls into the front of your hotel, all the unsaid words from the past year and a half have soaked through his socks and into his shoes. It sloshes out onto the pale pavement as he opens the car door.

He helps you roll your luggage up into the lobby and tells you he’ll be here at 3PM to pick you up tomorrow. The venue’s just three blocks away.

“Yeah, I’ll see you then,” you say, pursing your lips, waving as he backpedals towards the automatic doors.

“You’ve still gotta send me pictures of the dress you’re wearing — I gotta find a matching tie.”

You laugh, a bit embarrassed, “Right — and here I thought I might surprise you.”

Sanji freezes, eyes wide.

“O-oh! Er — well, you can just — just tell me what color or —” he waves vaguely, “send a picture of a corner of the dress — just so I have something to color match against —”

You nod, eyes glittering, eager once more, “Oh! That’s a good idea — I’ll do that.”

“Great,” Sanji says.

“Great!” you echo, perhaps a bit too chipper.

He gives you one last smile before turning and striding from the hotel, firing up the engine as calmly as he can, forcing himself not to turn and check if you’re still watching him through the brightly lit, sliding glass doors. He allows himself a glance through the rear-view mirror as he pulls away from the drive and his heart skips a beat when he realizes you’re still standing there, right in the middle of the lobby, fingers wrapped around the handle of your suitcase, your eyes fixed on the shadow of his retreating car.

He lights the smoke the second he turns the corner, your shadow no longer in his rear-view mirror.

That night, Sanji dreams in fits and leaps, flashing images and long, sticky streams of could-have-beens —

He dreams of your laughter in a white-tiled kitchen, of powdered sugar and eggshells cracked and leaking on an exposed wood counter, chopsticks clinking against a thick glass mixing bowl. He dreams of your voice echoing off the shower tiles as you sing off-key, the way you used to when you’d sneak into his college dorm for movie night and a midnight snack. He dreams of coffee mugs and errant rose petals and dandelion seeds blowing in the wind. He dreams of dancing with you in his arms in a darkened dorm room that morphs into a bigger room with a softer carpet, one that he’d never seen before but he knows implicitly (like bodies know) is his home — it has pictures on the walls, trinkets lining the far bookshelf, your favorite scarf draped over the back of the well-worn sofa.

In the dream, you pull your head back from where it's pillowed against his shoulder and smile up at him. He leans down to kiss you, his lips hovering half an inch from yours.

Sanji jerks awake to the sound of his alarm, fingers fumbling for his phone, groaning as he smashes the orange snooze button and flips over to bury his face back into his lumpy pillow.

“Ah… fuck.”

It’s not the first time he’s had that dream, and he knows it won’t be the last. But it’d been so real that night, real enough to make him wonder if it just might come true.

He rubs at his sleep-crusted eyes and peers blearily at all the notifications on his screen. There’s a text from you with a picture attached. He clicks it open to find a short message attached to the picture — I really did want to surprise you…

He blinks for three seconds at what looks like a blurry picture of studded black silk before he remembers —

“Send me a picture of a corner of the dress — just so I have something to color match against.”

He allows himself a laugh, swinging his feet out of bed even as he types back — you coulda just told me it was black…

He watches the three little dots appear and disappear a few times, chewing on his bottom lip, before the text appears — well there are different shades of black, right???

Sanji laughs, shaking his head.

sure there are.

A string of tongue-out emojis, followed by an equally long string of middle-finger emojis.

He spends the rest of the morning fussing over which specific black tie to wear before settling on one that he’s quite sure is the exact same shade of black as your dress (and yes, he does have quite the collection of black ties), before tugging his best suit out to press.

It shouldn’t feel so easy, slipping back into the rhythm of things, of texting and smiling and hearing your voice in his head when he reads your texts. It shouldn’t feel so easy to forget the months of radio silence and guilt, the oppressive, resonant weight of what might have been if either of you had done a single thing different that day at the airport — he wonders if he should’ve reached for your hand, he wonders if you’d ever looked back.

He hadn’t. He couldn’t let himself.

He is waiting for you in the lobby at 2:45, wearing a hole into the plush Persian carpet, collecting strained looks from the concierge who had assured him three times in the last four minutes that he’d already rung up to your room and that you’d said you were on your way.

“Wow, you’re early — sorry I took a while — I couldn’t figure out what to do with my hair and —“

Sanji lifts his head and thinks distantly that all those rom-com cliches of a guy looking up, time itself slackening, the room smearing sideways around him, the music going slow, the lighting soft — all of it is painfully, startlingly true after all.

Because there you are, walking towards him, still saying something, but he can’t make out the words anymore because time isn’t really a thing anymore, is it? He can’t focus on that and also the dark glimmer of your dress, the way the neckline skates just beneath your collarbones, barely skimming the skin there before it slips down along the slope of your shoulders in a way that makes his breath unspool inside his chest like loose threads.

And in the slanted, ethereal light of the winter afternoon, your dress looks like it’s cut from a swath of darkest midnight, moonless and scattered with stars.

You blush as Sanji attempts to pick his jaw up off the floor and hitch his lips into something resembling a smile.

“W-wow… you look…”

Your smile is shy as you press your palms against the dress, looking down, “Thanks… you don’t think it’s… too much?”

Sanji shakes his head, feeling dazed.

“No! I mean — it’s —“ his mouth is dry, drier than he ever remembers it being, and suddenly it’s very hard to swallow and Sanji isn’t even sure the muscles in his neck know how to perform the action, let alone force words out alongside it. He struggles for another few seconds, his jaw working furiously as his eyes skitter down and back up the shape of you.

“You look… perfect,” he says, finally, because the word has been ricocheting around his chest like a stray bullet and he had to let it out somehow.

“Thanks — you don’t look so bad yourself,” you say, your voice breathy in a way that makes Sanji’s stomach squeeze.

He offers you his arm, and you glide forward to take it.

He drives the three blocks to the wedding venue in a daze, his mind spinning slow and off-axis, tilted so by the gentle waft of your perfume, the lullaby of your voice as you chatter nervously about this and that and the weather, I mean, can you believe it’s gonna be an outdoor wedding in the winter? He wonders briefly why you’re so nervous, and then he’s reminded of the reason he’s even here at all — your ex will be here. Ah. Right.

“Ready?” he asks, offering you his arm again as the both of you follow the meandering stream of arriving guests toward the paved outdoor garden area where the ceremony is due to take place.

“No, but… you’re here so…” you let out a breath and for a second, Sanji almost thinks he hears the hint of an ache in your voice. An ache like an old scab picked at too many times, like unrequited love, perhaps. It’s an ache with which Sanji is so intimately familiar that he immediately tamps it down and vows not to think about it again for the rest of the night.

There are stiff-backed waiters wandering around with plates of hors d’oeuvres and thin flutes of bubbling pink champagne.

Sanji grabs two glasses and hands you one.

“Cheers, then.”

“Bottoms up,” you say, tossing back the entire flute in one.

Sanji cocks his eyebrows, grinning as he follows suit, smacking his lips.

“Alright then, I guess if that’s how you’re playin’ —”

Your laughter is light, if a little strained, but he remembers how quickly bubbly drinks tend to go to your head and makes a concerted effort to slow down. You make it all the way through the actual ceremony without bumping into your ex, though you do lean over and grab Sanji’s hand as the bride and groom exchange vows — something about love being a choice, one that they promise to make every morning of every day for the rest of their lives — and he looks over to find you misty-eyed, bottom lip caught beneath your teeth.

“Sap,” he whispers, leaning over. It earns him a choked laugh and a half-hearted elbow in the ribs, but it’s worth it to see the tension melt from your shoulders.

Sanji turns back towards the bride and groom, exchanging rings now, and unbidden comes the images of you and him standing where they are — you in a dazzling white gown, him still in a dark suit, but one perhaps of more expensive material and much better tailoring. He thinks about all the things he might promise you, wonders at what you might promise him in return —

“I promise to love and cherish you —” you might say.

“I promise to make all your favorite foods,” he might say.

“I promise not to touch your emotional support le creuset pans.”

“I promise not to make you taste all my experimental dishes —”

“Okay, but what if I want to —”

He imagines the way the crowd would titter, how the officiator would affectionately clear his throat. He imagines Zeff’s warm, well-worn laughter, rough and a little torn at the edges because he’s just as sentimental as the next guy behind all the beard and gruffness. He imagines the crowd smiling up at the pair of you, the way you’d squeeze his hands to get the both of you back on track —

He jerks out of his reverie as you tug your hand away from his to clap, and it takes him a beat to realize that everyone else is clapping and cheering too. He blinks — the bride and groom are kissing, pulling apart as the music swells around them and they link hands to walk back down the aisle.

Sanji clears his throat and hurriedly gets up to clap as well, his eyes trailing the radiant smiles on both the newlyweds’ faces. Another sharp ache sings through him but he feels your hand in his again and he can’t tell if he wants to grip you tighter or pull away. They’d both hurt just as much, wouldn’t they?

“C’mon, let’s get inside — I wanna judge the catering with you,” you whisper, your breath tickling his cheek, and he knows without having to look that you’re standing on your tiptoes, your chin almost propped on his shoulder.

He fights down a bout of shivers and smiles, “My favorite part of any formal event, honestly.”

You laugh, “I know — me too.”

So you spend the entire dinner service whispering to each other about the food —

“God, this steak is so well done I think it just might dislocate my jaw —”

“What’s in this sauce?”

Sanji chews thoughtfully before making a face, “Dunno, but it’s got oregano.”

“Oh the cake looks good though.”

“Yeah, but we both know how much sugar and butter goes into that right?”

You nudge him with an elbow, “Weird, cause I’m pretty sure happiness is also made of sugar and butter.”

“Well for me, it’s always been…” but Sanji trails off, biting his tongue. No. He can’t say that — not now. Not here.

Because for him, happiness has always just been you.

So instead, he swallows passed his own mouthful of regrets and attempts a lopsided grin. And thankfully, your attention is drawn elsewhere by a loud peal of laughter before he has to make a shitty joke about happiness being a well-lit kitchen and a gas-lit stove.

You’re both at least a bottle of champagne deep when it finally happens, inevitable as a summer storm — your ex saunters up to you on the dance floor, sporting a grease-slick grin, eyeing you up and down like a piece of well-cut meat. Sanji is at the bar, grabbing more drinks and you’re catching a breath of fresh air just outside the dance hall.

“Well, well, well — look who it is.”

Sanji turns sharply at the sound of the voice, his eyes narrowing — Asshat. Fantastic. The bartender is putting the finishing touches on two custom cocktails but blinks, confused, as Sanji swipes both drinks out from the bar and casts him a hurried grin.

“Thanks mate, these look great,” Sanji raises the cocktail glasses at the bewildered bartender before hurrying off, slowing ever so slightly as he reaches you, straightening his spine and smoothing out his shoulders.

“Here, got them special-made for you,” he says, pressing the cocktail into your hand, cutting into something that Asshat is saying.

“Oh! Thanks — oh wow, this looks so good!” you beam up at him, taking a sip.

“Oh wow, didn’t know you were still hangin’ out with this guy,” Asshat says, hooking his thumbs into his belt-hoops and jutting out his chin.

You frown, pressing your lips, “Excuse me?”

Asshat scoffs, posturing, “I mean, when we broke up, it was cause o’him right? So I just thought you might’ve realized what a mistake that was and —”

Sanji barely has the time to feel offended before Asshat is gasping and stumbling back. You’d tossed the remainder of your drink straight into his face.

“What the —” Asshat sputters, his fists clenching, but quick as anything, Sanji swipes out a leg that catches him right in the shins and makes him stumble. In one fluid movement, Sanji pushes his own drink into your hand before reaching out the other arm to steady the now flailing Asshat, catching him around the shoulders.

“Whoa there! Seems like you’ve had a bit too much to drink, my friend!” he says, loud enough for the people around you to hear. He thumps Asshat on the back in a would-be kind gesture before tugging him close, still coughing, and hissing in his ear —

“Listen here, you asswipe — you’re gonna turn around and walk away and stay the fuck away from us for the rest of this wedding, you understand? I’ve got plenty more o’this for ya if you don’t, got it?”

Sanji scuffs his foot along the gravel-covered ground in a motion that could easily be mistaken as fidgeting, but you know better. And so, it seems, does Asshat, who scoffs and shoves Sanji off him with a glare, but after another second, straightens his drink-soaked jacket, turns, and stalks away.

You let out a long breath, swallowing hard.

“Hey darlin’… you alright?” Sanji turns and bends down to level his eyes with yours.

“Y-yeah — thanks — you didn’t need to —”

“Nah. Course I did — it’s why you invited me, right?” he allows himself a lopsided grin that borders on self-deprecating and you look up, eyes wide.

“No! I — that’s not —”

“It’s okay, love — I promise I’m not offended —” Sanji’s babbling, he knows he is — but he has to, because the alternative of letting you speak, of letting you confirm what he already knows to be true (that you’ve only ever seen him as a best friend, that you love him in all the ways except for the one way he wants you to, in the one way he loves you) is too much. He tucks his hands in his pockets and shrugs up his shoulders, pulling them up towards his ears like armor.

And then you lean in and kiss him, and every single word he’s ever thought of saying just to fill the silence turns to mist and mornings on his tongue. His mind turns blissfully blank and when he regains consciousness (or has he? Because isn’t this the dream he’s dreamt every waking moment of his life for the past… however many years?), he thanks every god he can name that he feels his fingers in your hair, his other hand cupping the soft curve of your jaw. He tastes your uncertainty against his lips and presses in, hoping, praying that if he just kissed you hard enough you might understand.

When you pull away, he can’t help the satisfied purr that curls up his chest at the pinkness in your cheeks and the slightly glazed-over look in your eyes.

“O-oh — sorry I —”

Sanji shakes his head, leaning in to push his forehead against yours.

“Nah, nah, nah — if you tell me that was a mistake now I might just turn around and never speak to you ever again — because don’t you dare —”

You let out a helpless laugh, shaking your head as you reach up to cover his hands with yours. It’s only then that he realizes they’d been shaking. He swallows and he thinks he can taste every single morning after for the rest of his goddamn life in the whisper of your breath.

“It — it’s not, I wasn’t —” you close your eyes and Sanji holds you still, foreheads still pressed. Distantly, Sanji is aware that people are cheering, that more drinks are being poured, that the dance floor is probably a mess. But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t think he’ll care about anything else ever again — why would he? Now that he’s got you.

“Shh… take your time, love… we’ve got all the time in the world.”

He feels the relief take you, and then you’re falling into him, burying your face in the lapel of his suit jacket, probably smearing it with your foundation. Vaguely, Sanji considers framing it when he gets home.

“I’m… I’m sorry it took so long — I’m sorry I didn’t — that I wasn’t…” you curl your fist into the material of his shirt and thump him lightly on the chest, even as he laughs and wraps his arms around you.

“I know, darlin’… I know.” Sanji presses his lips into your hair and can’t help a smile.

Finally. Finally.

Your hair smells like citrus shampoo.

Finally.

“I thought about you every single day,” you admit, your voice small when you finally pull back to look at him again. He thinks there might be tears in your eyes, or maybe it’s just the starlight caught in the thick night sky of your lashes.

“Did you now?” he asks, fumbling for some semblance of normalcy amidst this night of revelations.

You nod, fervently, and god he wants to kiss you again. Briefly, he wonders if he should, if he’s allowed to now. Instead, he smiles and cocks his head.

“So? What changed?” and he can’t help the tiny note of hurt out of his voice, the slightest shiver of disbelief. After all, cynicism is a hard habit to break.

Especially after so many years of practice.

You shrug, sighing, “Nothing — everything. I mean — I’d always… but then I thought — you had your career as a chef and I didn’t even know what I wanted to do with my life. But it —” you lick your lips, and Sanji nearly breaks when you tear your eyes away from his. He wants to force you back, to soak in the dark and bright of your gaze till he can see the world exactly as you see it.

“It’s always been you…” you say.

At this, Sanji does break. He tips your face towards him with a thumb and a forefinger and leans in, waiting for you to pull back, bracing for it. But you don’t — instead, you press in and close the space between you again, and again, and then again.

He wants to tell you — he needs to tell you that it’s always been you too, that there’s never been anyone else. From the moment he first laid eyes on you, he’s known, even though both of you were children back then, and neither of you had any idea what “love” actually meant. He knew then, too.

“Love…” his voice trails off, but you smile, and he knows you know, knows that you can hear it in the rawness behind his voice, in the softness of his breath, in the way it shakes.

You make to kiss him again. But your lips hover half an inch from his and you stop. Sanji sighs.

“What — why’d you stop?”

Your smile is sweet and sharp, honey glinting on a razor’s edge, and he knows that he has you. And maybe that he’s always had you and was just too blind, too terrified, to see it.

“Haven’t you heard? It’s a metaphor.”

Sanji groans, “Fuck your metaphors.”

You bat your lashes, pulling an expression of mock affront onto your face.

“Well at least wine me and dine me first —”

Sanji licks his lips, “What’dyou think I’ve been trying to do for the last ten years?”

Your breath catches.

“Oh.”

Sanji smirks and kisses you again, slowly this time, languid and deep. Unhurried. He luxuriates in the way you go soft in his arms, in the way he can feel the gentle hitch of your breath as he runs his tongue along the edges of your teeth, coaxing you towards him, closer and closer and closer.

The hardest, angriest part of him wants to swallow you whole, bite down just to hear you hiss, to taste your blood on his tongue. To make you feel even a sliver of the pain he’d felt. He tamps it back down — there’s time for that later.

Instead, he forces himself to pull back and allows himself the satisfaction of watching you chase him, pursing your own lips with a bashful look away, your cheeks dark.

“So,” Sanji takes half a step back, puffing out his chest in the best imitation of a fuckboy at a wedding party, “wanna get outta here?”

You let out a helpless laugh, falling into his side. He lets the sound ring through him like so many silver bells.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

He chuckles, looping an arm around your middle and leaning towards your ear.

“Your place, or mine?”

You roll your eyes, “I’m pretty sure I still have a toothbrush at your place.”

Sanji hums, “You still have a whole drawer at my place.”

You smile up at him, open and happy and sincere, “Then… I guess that’s your answer then.”

#opla #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece live action #opla sanji #one piece netflix #one piece fluff #sanji opla #sanji x reader #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x you #opla x reader #opla x you #opla fluff #x reader #floofy floof floof #scheduled post

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failureface · 11 months ago

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thoughts on "Welcome Home, Franklin"

(SPOILERS AHEAD)

Okay, this special was really great.

I love Franklin. He's a sweet boy who never had a unkind thing to say about Charlie Brown- he was the straight man to the wacky antics of the Peanuts gang. But I never got the feeling he was more than that in the strips. This special serves as the backstory and character that Franklin didn't originally get, but sorely needed.

And this special beautifully and gracefully rights some of the wrongs that past Peanuts media made.

I was surprised this film even went there in terms of discussing racism a little. Peanuts is an IP that you expect people to be overly-protective of. 'No, the scene in "A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving" isn't racist- and it's NOT weird that all the kids are white' is more of what I expected to hear from this. But refreshingly, this special addresses it. Like, YEAH, there IS a lack of diversity! It feels so much better for that stuff to be acknowledged rather than swept under the rug.

I love the fact that Franklin is unsure of himself and his ability to make friends. This makes him super relatable and sympathetic, and also makes a clear connection to why he gravitates towards Charlie Brown. The two of them bond over their shared feeling of being "the Underdog", and not knowing how to make friends or navigate social landscapes. Franklin also opens up Charlie Brown to new experiences and knowledge, telling him about discrimination and introducing him to music he hasn't heard before. Not only that, but Franklin encourages Charlie Brown to be less anxious and push himself further. And Charlie Brown is a much needed friend and sympathetic ear for Franklin. They have each other's back and their bond is undeniable.

That's what this special is truly trying to get at. That friends of different backgrounds and experiences from us can help us to learn and grow as people. I think that's a really wonderful message and one that we all need at any age, and one that we especially need now.

Overall, this special really blew it out of the water, and I gave it five stars.

Special shoutout if you were able to make it to the premiere stream in the Peanuts discord, that made it twice as fun to watch!

Some miscellaneous thoughts under the cut

Franklin's music taste is so elite

The music picks in this movie are honestly fantastic. The soundtrack really elevates the experience and every song is awesome

THE BEACH SCENE! It's so rewarding as a fan to see moments that are plucked straight from the strip. It feels like the people making them really know Peanuts

All the little tiny schrucy crumbs- I eat it up. I know screenshots and gifs will be made and posted and I will be reblogging them.

Lucy and Franklin's beef- I wasn't expecting it but it's so funny and adds some really great dynamics into the fold

Since this is about the friendship between Charlie Brown and Franklin specifically, minor inaccuracies Franklin actually being on Peppermint Patty's baseball team in the strip are forgiven. Some fans more scrupulous than I would probably have an issue with this, but I'm not one of those fans. This isn't 100% faithful to Peanuts Lore but I don't mind.

I LOVED the scene where Charlie Brown wants to pull the breaks and Franklin wants to keep going. It shows so much without saying anything, and it gives way for great conflict that makes sense and comes from real places within the characters

And I love how Franklin is allowed to be mad, and he and Charlie Brown fight. We're not afraid to rock the boat anymore, and it makes Franklin feel so much more human

Just the right amount of Snoopy scenes, this one reached the perfect balance of Snoopy and Story

Everything is just so overwhelmingly cute here I had to restrain myself from writing "cute" or any of its synonyms in my review

"We saved you a seat!" <3333

#Welcome Home Franklin #my posts #reviews #Peanuts #franklin armstrong #Charlie Brown #theres so much stuff im forgetting to mention but my ADD mind cant think of everything at once sorry guys

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spectrechosts · 3 months ago

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Shine On! Musical Guardians! - Chapter 2

Megavolt may not have the least selfish motivations, but goddamn do the fans love her.

Full Series

"I see cleaning all the old Shining Rangers shit out of the basement is going well." Says Musical Guardian Synth-Metal, as she watches Grindcore, Ska, and Prog-Rock play with lego sets on the floor.

"Did you know we just had boxes and boxes of this shit?" Asks Grindcore, as she leafs through an instruction manual. "Magical trans-dimensional storage space, and it's filled with pallets of merch."

"No, but it sure sounds like an Azure thing to do. And we're what, reminiscing about the bad old days?"

Ska shrugs. "Hey, don't look at me. I have no stake in the shining rangers, I just see lego and play with it." She says, and Prog-Rock nods.

"Grindcore?" Synth-Metal asks derisively, and Grindcore flicks a block at her.

"Easy to be above it all when you show up in more than half the sets. They made like, two of me, I'm enjoying seeing myself as a tiny marketable figure."

"I'm not above it all." Synth-Metal says. "I'll play with a bionicle, I'm not heartless. It's just that the Shining Rangers lego sets are lame."

Phoebe comes up from the basement, another box in her arms.

"She's mad because she's always just standing around in them." She says, and Synth-Metal huffs.

"It's bullshit man, everybody else has cool shit and I just stand there because my power didn't have a visual aspect and they didn't want to put magnets in the pieces because kids would eat them or some shit." She whines.

"Here." Phoebe says, taking a package from one of the boxes and tossing it to her.

"Wait- Shining Rangers Versus Dark Ranger Megavolt???" Synth-Metal says, looking it over. "I never heard about this?"

"It never came out. Went into production before Azure realized you were a serious threat and not just making a fuss before rejoining."

"Ooohh they gave me the little force lighting bolts you can put in the minifig hands!" She squeals, sitting down and tearing the packaging open. "Are you telling me that if I held back a bit I could have had Megavolt merch!?"

"Truly, you have suffered for success." Grindcore says, putting the finishing touches on a scene of her choking out a giant alien bee-woman with her smoke.

"Oh yeah." Phoebe says. "After you came back but before you started putting us in the hospital and Azure pulled it all, Obsidian merch was flying off the shelves."

"Maaaan. I changed my mind this rules actually." Synth-Metal says, acting out a tiny fight with the Azure and Megavolt figures. "The Musical Guardians need to sell out so I can have tiny lightning hands."

"It's really inspiring, seeing how much you believe in the politics of what we're doing here beyond saving your own ass." Deadpans Prog-Rock.

"What can I say?" Says Synth-Metal, grinning. "I'm an activist."

#Spectre Writes #If Anything #Magical girl

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sauntering-down · 1 year ago

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weird dreams this morning... in the first one i'd gone to Epcot with a family i don't know. there were parents and a younger daughter, but the only one i interacted with at length was the older daughter, who was perhaps 18 or 19. a little weird (she was wearing a fluffy, heavy knee-length white coat in Florida...) but nice. and then we went into a store that sold all kinds of stereotypically 'witchy' stuff - crystals and rocks especially, also tarot cards and little statues and bundles of herbs and so on. wandered around a bit and looked, and as i'm leaving, the older daughter comes up to me looking all downtrodden and says she's going to die in April. i was like uhhhh... why? and found out the cashier had given (for free) this girl a transparent oval rock that had a bunch of stars that looked like confetti suspended in it... and on the back she'd written a note about how this girl was foreseen to die on April 9th, it was ~in the stones~ and therefore inevitable. i said "mmkay, not to be That Guy acting like a skeptical asshole in the crystals-and-tarot-cards store, but that sounds like complete nonsense." unfortunately the girl pretty much refused to believe me and was convinced she'd drop dead on April 9th. so we all just went to a part of Epcot called 'The Land' which apparently still exists even though i haven't been there in 15 years.

second dream, i was getting ready for school and there was too much random shit in my backpack. i went outside and cleaned the random shit out, keeping only a small stack of important papers and some magazines, but as i'm doing this i realize i can't take my car to school for some reason. noticed a neighbor across the street as i'm inexplicably dumping my trash in her garbage pail - she was headed to work and i was going to ask if she would mind dropping me off on her way, but then i realized she had her toddler with her and her car had only two seats so... never mind! went back over to my house, where my dad was wheeling his bike down the driveway, asked if HE could give me a lift. he mentioned the neighbor but i explained about her kid, said he could just leave me at the traffic circle and i'd walk the rest of the way, and finally he agreed. his bike was... bizarre... it was sort of like a tandem bike except the two seats were REALLY close together - i sat on the front one and hung onto the top row of handlebars, where the ones below actually handled the brakes and steering? idk. i didn't have pedals, either. so on our way down this hill we lived on, it abruptly began pouring and i'm trying to close the snap on my hood so it'd stay in place, while telling my dad i forgot to pack a lunch OR grab any money so i wasn't eating lunch today, apparently. despite this weird uncomfortable ride, we made it down the hill and over to the traffic circle at the next hill. instead of stopping, though, my dad said he'd just take me the rest of the way since it was close - he did pause though, swiped a random dollar bill off the ground and gave it to me. so i was like "well, at least i can probably buy a drink now!" and then we passed this garden with all sorts of money littering the dirt, but there were two-dollar bills and six-dollar bills and i had a feeling this was Fake because money in my dreams is ALWAYS some weirdass denomination. my dad just gave me five bucks from his wallet instead lol, but when we got to school i compared it to the dollar bill and realized the five was way too tiny and misprinted to be real... and then i woke up late.

#dream

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drawing-way-outside-the-lines · 2 years ago

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➖ Mature content, 18+ ➖ check the trigger tags each time ➖

Chapter 11 - The Depression. Episode 1.

Andy: *Things kept going down hill, specially Evan's mood. On the 23rd of May, his sister Rose called to tell his dad had had a minor heart attack, and was in the hospital. So it's safe to say, things didn't exactly turn brighter after that. The whole day he just seemed distant, and barely even ate anything. It was getting harder and harder being around him, watching him sigh and poke his food. So when Congo offered me to go for a nice evening walk, I immediately said yes. It sorta looked like it was going to rain, but the air was warm, so we threw a leash on my puppy, Wilson, and dragged him with us. I keep calling him a puppy, even if he is actually a year old by now. He is just so tiny still, I can't help it. As we had walked for about 5 minutes, and I hadn't said much, Congo wrapped one of is big strong arms around me. With his 196 cm he is quite a lot taller than me, 10 cm to be exact, and his body volume is about a half time larger than me, turning him into the perfect rock to climb on to when you feel you are drowning in it all. I dug my fingers into his muscly chest, and the chest hairs peeking over the neck of his shirt. I just loved the warmth from his body, his body heat naturally being a bit higher than other people. I sighed relieved, I had really missed my husband without even noticing it. I had been so caught up in trying to be there for Evan, I had forgotten all about my mate.*

Congo: *He smiled softly at me, and kissed the tip of my nose* A kiss for your thoughts?

Andy: *I chuckled lightly* I was actually thinking of you.

Congo: *He smiled satisfied and kissed me again, this time a gently loving kiss on my lips* Of me? Hmm… I wonder, what were you thinking of me?

Andy: Willy! Willy NO!….. WILSON!!! *I tucked in his leash as he was trying his best to eat a dead bird he just found… and yeah, I did name my dog after Wade Wilson, aka the Marvel anti hero Deadpool. I have been fan of him for years, so it was never hard to pick a name when I suddenly became dad to a tiny overly active trouble maker! I guess under the right circumstances, Deadpool would eat dead birds he finds on the ground as well?*

Congo: *He bowed down and yanked the rotten bones out of Willy's mouth* Bad boy! *As Willy finally let go, Congo looked up at me, while petting the dog* So… what were you thinking about me? Or is that a secret? *He smiled teasingly and stood back up*

Andy: *I chuckled softly* Nah… I just got distracted by the dirty mutt. Actually, I was thinking I have missed you a lot. It feels like the last couple of weeks I have lost track of you. There has just been so much. Evan, 'A', the fire….

Congo: *He frowned at A's name* Yes. I know.

Andy: Sorry *I half smiled apologizing*

Congo: *He nodded in a 'never mind' way and sighed softly* Stop apologizing for him. I was prepared he would keep popping up one way or another, but as long as he doesn't pop up in person, we will be alright *he smiled softly and ran his fingers through my mohawk, caressing my hair softly* I missed you too Andy. Very much. And I'm glad to hear you missed me too. When that's said I want to make you understand I fully comprehend why you spend so much time with Evan these days, and why you seem to forget about me a bit. Its okay. He isn't doing too well. And as long as he more or less refuses to talk with George, there isn't much we can do about it. He needs to heal on his own, and that might take a while. All we can do is be there for him. And if it helps him to cuddle with you and hide in bed, I will leave space for that, for as long as it takes. However, I would appreciate you don't forget me completely *He chuckled softly and kissed my forehead* sometimes I need you too.

Andy: *I nodded softly and lit a cig, blowing the smoke towards the sky* I know… that#s also why I feel so sad that I#m neglecting you...

#Tw: Depression #Andy Shaw-Thompson #Congo Shaw #unicornmanes

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entropys-universe · 1 year ago

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*RUBS HANDS TOGETHER LIKE A RACOON*

Been waiting for this, mind you I played CROB for maybe an hour, but I've played CRK for months, so, idk much on the ones not in CRK, and I'm only focusing on a handfull because brainrot has a bias lmao

(Line break cus long)

So, first of all, I put in ships cus uhhhhh yes

Milk and Yam adopted Strawberry, Angel, and Devil.

Bright and Skater were semi adopted semi "roomates taking care of the same cat" taken in by Ninja and Muscle.

Chili Pepper and Rye adopted Gingerbrave (Chili thought his smirk was funny and begged her gf to adopt him cus a wanted criminal isn't allowed to adopt a kid), and ended up with Dozer and Banana Peel as well, because of something I may or may not explain later.

Latte decided to adopt Wizard, and help him with his magic

Angel and Devil fight like "Pops said it was my turn on the Game Station 4" and then fight like rabid animals till they're separated. They love their sister, though. Devil let Strawberry dress them up in their one carnival outfit :D

Strawberry prefers Yam over Milk, at first everyone was confused, even Yam because Yam is loud and Milk had experience with kids, but then Strawberry said that it's because she admired how bold he was. Now Yam helps her train with her lollipop-mace thing like he does with his mace thingy, and she's already very bulky and strong, to where her friends can't pick her up, but she can pick them up easy. Other than Bright, but Muscle is strong as fuck and she goes to the gym with him so-

Strawberry and Devil go out to buy hoodies together, and the hood things they wear(I forgot the name-), Strawberry just feels kinda safer in them, while Devil hates that their hair is pink and prefers to hide it over the hassle of dying it, unless Milk is cutting their hair. Strawberry's hair is green, and she cuts it herself, it's always really short.

Devil actually has 5 eyes, but hid the extra 3 with an illusion because they were taught to do so when they were still an angel. Nowadays, they don't have the illusion, and even put on makeup everyday!

Angel has many, many eyes, but no one has seen all of them, and they do prefer their two-eyed form because it is more manageable and less scary to other cookies.

Devil is the goat kid and will eat cans if given the opportunity. They broke a tooth because they tried to bite Yam, and Yam did the sensible thing and punched them.

Bright and Skater do this shit:

(This is from a random chat fic thing I write when I have free time)

They will fight over the last slice of pizza, then play games, get angry and attack each other, then fall asleep on the couch laying one ontop of the other.

Ninja has to bandage the two up because Muscle's hands are to big for tiny band-aids

Skater broke his nose after a nasty fall, and Bright laughed at him for like, 30 seconds before helping him up

Bright and Muscle have father-daughter style days where they go to the gym, and Bright makes him do leg day.

Ninja and Skater do balance training while playing cards till they get home.

Ninja is nurodivergent as shit, and loud noises can quickly overwhelm him, so Muscle is generally quieter, but will slip up on occasion. Ninja doesn't mind too much, he has earmuffs in his gear cus ofc he would.

Skater has broken his nose because a dumbass left a fucking pole on the sidewalk at the bottom of a small hill, which Skater was going down, and because he hates shoes, he couldn't stop and he hit the pole, landing on his face.

Gingerbrave loves his new moms, even if one is illiterate and the other blasts music about country women killing their husbands every chance she gets.

He has an issue with blaming himself for Dozer's "death", and Chili Pepper is really soft with him, and will hold him and rock him if he has a self depreciating breakdown :<

BraveFruity and WizardFruity got sent to Fruity Jail for being too fruity!!! "Fuck you, my boyfriend is completely fine!" "Gingerbrave, your boyfriend is summoning Cthulhu, reevaluate your life choices"

GingerBrave loves cuddles, and Rye will sometimes be seen with a sleeping GingerBrave being held in one arm, and a half asleep Chili Pepper hanging off her other arm.

Least responsible of the friend group, and is a prime example of why men statistically die sooner than women.

Awful at math, and has to have Bright teach him.

Brain is just a McDonald's, that's it, nothing but beeps and crowds chatting. Sometimes a bass boosted Sonic theme plays, but that's it.

Mans has ADHD(projecting) and only drinks some soda to get his mind calm over any medication because the only time he had any ADHD meds, he almost had a full on breakdown because his mind was so quiet. The comforting noise was gone, and his mind felt hollow. It was awful because he started to think about Dozer again, and he couldn't just sink into his mind-noise to try to not remember.

HATES long pants, and wears skirts/dresses instead of them during the colder months to keep his legs warm. Rye and Chili Pepper don't get it, but Rye is the only one of the two to go shopping with him cus Chili Pepper is banned from most stores.

Latte eventually adopted Wizard because of the potential he had and she wanted to train him herself!

He constantly overworks himself, and his eyes, by reading all these books he's either borrowed or bought, so he eventually needs glasses, and Latte keeps saying he looks like Esspresso, which neither care.

He's a little and uses littlespace to destress, and help him sleep as his mind keeps going even when tired, so the wrapped-in-a-large-fuzzy-blanket feeling he gets from littlespace is a great help to make sure he can actually function in the morning.

He sometimes regresses uncontrollably because of stress, and usually either Latte or GingerBrave take care of him because his little self is so distrusting of everyone but them and sometimes Cream Puff.

Wizard is a master at research and planning, to the point where he willingly helps Latte with planning out how long to stay on a subject, and she is ever-grateful that her kid has better time-management than herself. Even if he lacks it for sleep.

Explanation on the Dozer and Banana Peel thing:

Banana Peel is the original Banana Cookie, I just call her "Banana Peel" to make sure there's some separation.

Dozer escaped the witch, but fell into the same void as Banana Peel, who can do silly things like pull out gmod tools. She also managed to keep a racoon alive in the void and keep it with her as a companion.

Banana Peel can't talk, so motions. Only Dozer has managed to learn all of "'Nana Peel talk" and Chili ends up learning some of it too! :D

The two somehow get out of the void, Dozer and Brave have a tear-filled reunion, and Rye adopts the two.

This took a while, mostly cus of school, but I got it done!!

Guys I swear I’m alive I’m just at school HEKEPEP

You all should totally send me hcs of family found between the common cookies

#Crumbs and Creatures #Cookie run #Cookie run au #These are all cannon in my au #I'm allowed to use that tag.

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quandaryqueen · 2 years ago

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So I saw this video with the “baby proof” bowl that stuck to the high chair. It was not baby proof and the baby easily figured it out.

So I immediately pictured Riddler and his S/O trying to feed their child and was wondering if you could write headcanons for some of the different Riddlers for it? (Arkham, BTAS, and Unburied for specifics) Fluff, chaos, and a proud Eddie is all I ask for.

If you’re not comfortable with it that’s fine, just thought I’d request and see what happens.

Gosh this got kinda long…sorry 😅

"Baby proof" The fuck?

Edward Nygma X Reader

You guys are doing nothing but to fuel my baby fever worse and I'm here for it.

💚 Arkhamverse

~ Let's start this by saying: Edward will not be subjecting his little angel through the baby talk, as he claims it sounds patronising and is to be reserved for weak minded people... At least, he won't be caught doing so. It's not patronising if he does it, he insists.

"Now, cheating is a crime that should be punishable be death and death alone. Do you understand?"

"Ba?"

"Indeed. Cheaters such as—!"

"Ba?"

"Batman, yes! Oh you're growing to be a genius!" Edward lovingly snatches your son Eric from his crib and holds him up, the Riddler affectionately nuzzling his forehead against his son's. "Oh yes, you are! Genius like papa!"

~ He was afraid of his father, he does not have the healthiest image of what a father is supposed to be. When he heard you were having a baby, he panicked and thought he was in no way, shape or form, to be a proper father and the first thing he did was to run off, thinking an absent father was better from an abusing one, something he himself wished when he was young.

Upon sitting him down to talk about it, the feeling subsides for a moment. It wasn't easy for him to be in terms of what is going to happen. And then it happened. The baby boy he fears is suddenly in his arms and everything melted for a moment. The first time he heard Eric cry, it wasn't his first instinct to shrink away and leave it to you like he had expected, instead he started rocking the babe to soothe him. After that, he was practically attached to Eric.

~ Feeding the thing... It isn't an easy feat, it's a mess. Instead of feeding from the spoon, little Eric instead grabs it out of curiosity and play with it. Yes, he is also capable of tossing bowls just to see what will happen. It's amusing for a while, but you both would want to feed Eric to get on with it and not waste food.

"Please for the love of--" Edward holds the green spoon near Eric's mouth, only to withdraw it away when the babe attempts to grasp the spoon instead. "No, no! You eat, Eric. Eat."

The Riddler once again, attempts to feed his child. And for the umpteenth time, Eric grabs the spoon instead, making Edward sigh. At least this time, Eric actually shovels the food from his tiny fist and eat from it.

💚 Batman the animated series

~ It's odd to imagine, but gosh do I see him taking a crunchy route once his babies are born. Like this guy becoming so conscious about certain chemicals and substances in every day objects that are... Lethal to a degree, but watered down, you get what I mean right? I mean, he is not taking the full route of being a crunchy parent, he is Edward 'The Riddler, former video game programmer, avid instant noodles enjoyer, technology enthusiast and expert' motherfucking Nygma, not Poison Ivy.

And when your little angel Eden was born, as much as he can, strays away from chemically strong materials.

"No wet wipes, pacifiers are questionable, don't let that near my baby. A toy? A-A plastic toy? I don't think so." - Edward to Harley when she asked what she can gift to Eden.

~ He came to accepr the responsibility of fatherhood when you came to him about it. He even thought it was about time and quite frankly, even if he was unsure, he was a little excited.

~ He thought that the baby proof baby bowl's are not up to his standards. First of all, the chemicals in that thing and second of all, it should be green. And so he constructs his very own version like the Riddler being Riddler. And when it came to test it, well...

The curious darling that is Eden, of course, easily got the device unstuck and tossed it away. Thankfully, there wasn't any food in there since you were just at the testing phase, but it makes it clear to you that your baby is a handsy little thing. But it did not dismay Edward from trying again, instead, he takes it as a learning opportunity! He shall invent a baby proof sticky bowl his grabby little Nygma can't toss away!

💚 Batman Unburied

~ There is this underlying feeling that your daughter might grow up as a daddy's girl, due to the fact that you're starting to see she is a touch more clingy when it comes to her father. Not that she hates you, oh she loves you... Not as much as her father, though. And Edward is going to be flaunting and taunting you with it.

~ Edward was excited to become a father, the moment you told him the news, in fact, had began brainstorming E names for his baby. And when Ella was born, he was attached to her. It would take you both hands and colourful threats to get your turn to hold your baby. But it really is heartwarming to see him bond with his child, just a sight to melt at because she might be the only thing he will not roast all to hell. Not yet, maybe.

~ The feeding shenanigans. He was fucking amused to see Ella grip the trusted baby bowl and effortlessly lifted off the table before she threw it away, Edward took pictures of it to commemorate it. Edward has undoubtedly collected myriads of photos of Ella, he's that dad.

The man found ways not to find this irritating at all, so he found ways to feed Ella. This girl is getting her nutrition, one way or another and the bowl tossing will not deter him at all. King of Riddles and Puzzles, what's a bowl-tossung baby to him?

#edward nygma #riddler x reader #dc x reader #edward nygma x reader #dc x you #edward nigma #request #btas riddler x reader #btas riddler #batman unburied riddler x reader #batman unburied riddler #anon

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causticsunshine · 3 years ago

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LTWT PORTLAND NIGHT TWO RECAP

(i was going to make a video update so i could just my ramblings out but tumblr didn't like that so i'm mostly just transcribing what i said in my last Attempt at a video recap here, and second i'll go through my pics and post some after i get some sleep!)

SO portland night two was..... i'm gonna say we truly won so far, okay?? the energy was just so on, like, i don't even know how else to describe it. it was a goofy, fun time without sacrificing any of the hard work or performance—like the band came out in onesies from what i'm assuming was a lost bet, there was cereal eating, a handstand, push ups, oli (with maracas??), and sun room dancing and jumping around with louis during kill my mind, fun little comments and anecdotes from louis... it was just such a great show and a great time and i'm so so thankful it went as well as it did!

(we also saw oli go run off somewhere while we were waiting in line? idk where he went but it took all of us by surprise lmao)

now let's talk louis: my man came out 20 minutes after expected in the outfit equivalent of a 'fifteen minutes late with coffee'—like the perpetually cold british man was wearing shorts in portland in march, when i, who have lived here for 9 years and never acclimated, was freezing my ass off before and after the show??—and gave me heart palpitations?? yes now i'm eagerly waiting for a tanktop thank you sir and no one better take this weirdly, but that man is truly a short king.... like he's still got a little height on me and harry was shorter than i thought too (like he's only 6 ft without heels on and he's often times wearing heels?), but still... that is my short king.

his energy was amazing; he was smiling and moving around nonstop, he was playing rock paper scissors and pointing out signs, he was looking at our section—his left side balcony—quite a lot like 2/3 of the show and his note changes? *chef's kiss* just immaculate. beautiful stunning gorgeous talented show-stopping incredible etc. etc.

aaaand from my pov, we could both see and hear well so my pictures and videos actually turned out decently for once, AND while i didn't get a big reaction for my sign—which i should've held up earlier and maybe not upside down for three minutes rip when he was paying a little more attention to our side—i did get a tiny smirk and some eye contact, AND earlier in the show i made a big hand heart for him fully not expecting to be seen, but he saw me!! he was standing directly diagonal to me and stopped bouncing around when he did, then made full eye contact, smiled, pointed and nodded right at me!! and i have witnesses to support my claims!!

usually some eye contact or whatever isn't something i get really into caring about BUT some really obnoxious people were standing behind us at the show tonight, like, complaining about people being 'in their seats' when i'm pretty sure they just sold 'assigned' seats so balcony wouldn't be oversold, and how they were going to 'talk to venue management' about it like a bunch of entitled, middle aged white women—to start! because then they kept trying to get louis' attention by constantly flipping him off and shit—constantly whacking my friend in the back of the head in the process too!—so when they were like 'omg he saw us!!' when i got my little moment... sorry but nah bitch, that shit was for me and me alone because i wasn't being rude or obnoxious, and i have witnesses so <3 sorry for you!

but yeah just, genuinely an overall amazing show. it was incredible to finally be able to see louis live and see him in such good spirits having what seemed to be such a genuinely great time and giving it his all. i feel truly so lucky i got to catch him tonight and got to take part in such a fantastic show, i honestly cannot wait to see him again and i hope he's feeling good and getting some much needed rest rn <3

mister tomlinson i truly look forward to the day we get to reminisce on this moment while i'm making merch for you in the hopeful near future

#ltwt #ltwt22 #ltwt portland #ltwt portland night 2 #louis tomlinson #1d #alex talks #my louis show

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saturnsstufff · 4 years ago

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The Empress (pt.IV)

Mmm. Blood for blood god, yes?

Warnings: mentions of abuse, poison, death, swearing

The palace was a bit busier after the evening you announced your new employment. After the servants herd there would be a trip, they were mostly preparing for Techno’s, and Phil’s leave. Two days weren't much to you, but to Techno and Phil? They were busy days. Techno ended up stealing Phil from your side during those days, so instead you spent your time with Wilbur.

Wilbur was a brilliant child. For being twelve he already had a large understanding of how their kingdom worked. Not only that, but when questioned he could also tell you about other countries and nations. He didn't play up his intelligent, but he also didn't dismiss what he knew.

Tomorrow was the day that Techno, Phil and you had planned to leave on. Phil did walk you to breakfast that morning, but Techno and Phil didn't waist time eating. They mostly hurried through, leaving little room for conversation, then left to Techno’s study. Leaving you and Wil alone for the day again. You didn't mind that though, yesterday you spent your time lingering over his shoulder well he did his studies. The studies, though sounding boring at first were actually pretty interesting. You had a education, however, the one you received was very basic. You were taught to read, write, and even shown basic math, but beyond that you weren't pressured to learn more. No one in your village was. This wasn't because your village viewed education less to survival. But mostly because your village was tiny, there were no great scholars. Most children were taught by there parents, like you, your mother taught you everything. Where Wilbur, at twelve was learning about different potion ingredients and there properties. You at the same age had just finished basic fractions. But that was ok, education wasn't something to compare, everyone learns differently and at different speeds.

Well you maneuvered around the casual tables, bookshelves and sofas, he responded. “Oh! well, you see, Phil wants all of his kids to be respectful, especially to women” you nodded, ’most parents prefer that.’ you mused to yourself. The two of you walked through the library to a room in the back. This is where Wil did his studies. It was just a private room, mostly made so no one could disturb the individual reading inside. “Our mother, she was really kind- you would have liked her- and her most defiantly would have liked you” He was just loosely rambling off, but it was adorable, he had a bright smile. Well you listened, something told you, not many people sat and talked with him. “When Phil met our mother he always told us of how poor her home life was, she wasn't treated very nicely, you see.” Wil took the door to the study and opened it for you two. Both of you moseying inside, side by side. When you two found the sofa you sat down easy, mostly having to readjust after. Unlike you Wil half threw himself onto it with a little squeak of the cushion. “When Dad found out mother was carrying me, he quickly took her away from her home. Anytime he mentioned her parents you could have sworn he wanted to kill them. Dadza doesn't get mad, but when he does... it’s not exactly pleasant.” Wil had swallowed a bit thickly at that last comment. Letting it linger in the air.

You walked with Wil towards the Library, the hall’s were a tad chillier due to the fact the sun wasn't out today. In its place was just grey clouds, offering more snow to the already maxed out ice cube you stood on. When you took the handle to open the door for Wil, he took it from your hand quickly. After grabbing it, he stumbled into profusely apologizing for his spur of the moment behavior.

“So sorry (y/n), it’s just, if Dadza caught me slacking on my manners... He wouldn't be too pleased.” You tilted your head slightly as he opened the door fully. Exposing the Ancient Book lined walls. The stale smell of paper, parchment, and the occasional ink hit you. The library was rather large, but then again, most things within this palace tended to be. The library did have a warmth to it, and a welcoming feeling. The type where if your not careful, you could get lost inside for hours at a time. In the corner rested a larger than normal fireplace, The attached Chimney ran to the celling, lined With thick Rocks and stones. The crackling and popping of the wood burning within was a very comforting white noise.

“this might seem off, but, what manners?” they way you said it may have sounded wrong, but you meant it in the best way you could. Or more the less for him to expand on the manners he was talking about.

“I'm not sure if I can ask, but, Techno looks older than you, did... He live with your mother when she was with her parents?” Wil shifted to face you a bit more. Putting his heel up on his knee. well he rested his elbow on the arm of the couch, he moved his head to rest in his hand.

“No, Techno was adopted. When dad was in the Nether he raided a lost fortress. from what he explained, there was just a toddler roaming around.” Your heart clenched slightly, you couldn't imagine leaving a toddler alone, none the less in a place like the nether. you have never been there, but the stories you’ve herd were enough to tell you the danger. “Since he’s a hybrid of a Piglin Brute and human, none of the other Piglins would touch him. So Dadza did, as Dadza does. he took him home.”

You thought back on this a moment. Techno had a godlike amount of strength, not to mention how tall he was. Of course he was a Hybrid. You felt a bit stupid now for not picking it up. “Just, don't tell Techno I told you, he doesn't like his name being discussed behind his back” You nodded. Wilbur’s face grew into a smile. “This can be our secret” you nodded and smiled back.

“our secret” The more you talked to Wil, you discovered he was a lot like Philza. The two had the most contagious smile you’d ever seen. The only difference you assumed was he had his mother's features. Phil had bright keen blue eyes, well Wilbur had deep beautiful brown eyes. Another difference was there facial structure. You two were quiet a moment before you spoke up. You had been curious of where their mother was, there were paintings of her. But she was no where around. The way Wil talked about her made you assume she had passed. “what happened to your mother?”

Wilbur’s eyes saddened briefly before he- what you assumed- forced himself to contain. “Oh, well... Phil and Mom had a dinner one night with some other world leaders.” he paused a bit rubbing his neck. “It was supposed to be peaceful. but someone from the German Empire didn't want us to be allies. so he poisoned our mother’s food.” He started slowing down with the story as he went on. “Like you said with your father (y/n), you were too young to understand? That's how it was for me. I was only four. I didn't understand why Techno and Dad were so angry.” he wiped his eyes as they welled up, one eye let a tear fall. “They didn't keep me in the room long. As soon as mom started choking, they started yelling. One of our allies’, his wife, had taken me out of the room before it had escalated any further.”

Your heart fell heavy, a pit forming in your stomach. you couldn't empathize with loosing a parent. especially at such a young age like that. You could easily tell Wil wasn't over his mothers death. The way he looked at the ground with such hurt, it genuinely pained you so see the happy boy like this. You moved yourself closer to his side and hugged him tightly, showing him the reassurance he needed. You didn't respond for a little bit. letting Wil express what emotions he had possibly bottled up. After a bit when you felt him pull back, you just kept your arm around his shoulder. You weren't his family. but you hoped that for what company you offered, it made him feel at least a bit better. “I'm sorry Wilbur…” was all you could muster. The atmosphere weighed heavier now. With the sadness of pressed memories lingering, the two of you didn't talk. instead you simply sat in silence.

“So what’s France like?” you asked curiously, taking a bite of your mashed potatoes.

By dinner that evening Wilbur and you had already promised each other that you wouldn't speak of what happened in the studies. He didn't want Techno on his back for opening up, or that he also cried a bit. You were ok with keeping it between you two, Wilbur had confided in you something very personal, the least you could do was respect his wishes.

Dinner had gone by smoothly, the chatter between Wilbur and you had picked up quite a lot. You could tell this made Phil happy to see the two of you getting along. Especially since you now technically live with them. When you first arrived to the palace, dinner’s were kind of awkward, since only Phil and you really talked. But now it seemed that Techno was the only one that wouldn't partake in the conversations. He would put a word or two in. But mostly dinners were spent with Wil and you talking about whatever came to mind.

Wil was hurrying to swallow to try and respond. “Oh! you’d love it there (y/n)!” Phil slightly chuckled at Wil. “Its really scenic!” Before Wil could ramble off about France and it’s perks, Phil had chimed in.

“It is a beautiful place, but were not going to any specific places. were only going to the countryside's. We know that much” Wil and you cocked your head’s slightly. ‘what’s out in the country side?’ You mentally questioned, but Wil instead asked it aloud.

“Not that the countryside isn't beautiful- why not stop by the towns?” Wil questioned, his brow furrowed. waving his fork between Techno and Phil for his answer.

“The cities don't have what I need” Techno said plainly, at that Wilbur shot back with a remark.

“mmn, like a girlfriend?” you couldn't help but laugh at the way Techno turned to face Wilbur. Since he still eats with his mask. you could only see his lips, to which Techno made a ‘heh?’ before he compiled his answer fully.

“Keep it up I’ll take you to France and punt you out of my plane.” Phil laughed with you on that one. Although Techno was pretty stoic and monotone, over the last couple of days lately he’s been showing more of his ‘Brotherly love’ as Phil call’s it. you had a feeling that Techno and Phil were going to miss Wilbur during there trip. or, at least you would for sure. After Wilbur laughed a bit he got serious again.

“But really, what are you looking for. there’s not many things in the countryside besides the occasional mansion or farm. Kind of boring if you ask me” Techno hummed in response. Appearing like he was aware of what was in the country already. Since Wil couldn't work a answer out of Techno he simply dropped the subject, viewing it no longer worth the push. Instead he started back on his steak, Phil picking up the conversation.

“Those new clothes should be in your room tonight, (y/n)” you looked up and swallowed your mouthful. nodding before you answered.

“mhn! oh! right, thank you again for them. Are you sure my old pair wouldn't cut it? I’d hate to ruin a new pair of clothes on a side trip” Phil waved his hand in response, as if waving away your worry.

“awh, I wouldn't worry to much on it. Besides, now that you work for us, you have to be official n’ shit” He grinned at you. “Besides, your clothes were nice for your village, but France and Russia have a bit different climates.” You nodded casually. The idea of visiting new places had you a bit giddy. Yes, you missed your home, but being with the royal family so far has been utterly pleasant.

“do you have a certain time you would like to leave?” you questioned, your eyes dancing between Techno and Phil for your answer. Techno didn't look up from his food, expecting Phil to answer for him.

“we’ll probably just end up sending a servant to wake you up. We don't have a specific time yet, but we know it will probably be early. Mostly so we can reach land on time. Techno has the map’s ready for tomorrow with the stops marked. fuel n’ stuff will probably draw us back time wise.” Phil poked at his food well he talked, moving a bit of the food to a nice size bite. “We don't have a designated time we have to return. But we also don't want to be gone from the palace long.” you tilted your head a bit, looking to Phil.

“why don't you want to be gone long?” You assumed it was because they liked being in the comfort of their own home, but you also had a feeling it was something beyond that. Phil’s brow had came together in a bit of... frustration?

“we cant be gone long because the Governor's get antsy..." this was the first time you herd Phil's voice drop. It wasn't his casual light hearted tone, instead it was replaced with a deep, meaningful, yet precise tone. He knew what he wanted to say, and he knew exactly what he had to say. "We can't take Wilbur with us since he’s too young. It's also best to have someone to look over the palace in our absence."

You set your fork down as you finished your plate. Mimicking how techno piled his plates. "Why do they get antsy?" You couldn't help your curiosity on this matter. ‘Did the Governor's not like them gone?’

"Because they feel Wilbur is more fit to Rule. It's utter bullshit" Phil had a lot of pressed emotion on that topic. You could tell just from how he now handled and moved his fork. Usually he had a easy grip, loose moving it about his plate. But now his knuckles were a tad white, and his grip was much more secure. "Don't mistake my words, Wilbur could rule. He'd be a bloody brilliant king too. But Techno is my oldest son. The crown falls to him. Plain and simple. But They think, that because Techno isn't my blood, that it doesn't count." His words started becoming sharper and more hateful. He dropped his fork on his plate at this point out of anger. Even Techno who never moves his head much, Or talk for that matter, had moved his head to face Phil. Techno addressed his father.

"Dadza..." you were a bit shocked, his tone wasn't as monotone. His voice showed his concern, or maybe his understanding. Phil only looked at his plate before he looked up with a breath.

"I cant leave Wil because they pressure him. They pressure him into the thought of marriage with his best friend, into dethroning techno, last time the fucker's brought up killin’ tech and I" Phil leaned back in his chair a bit.

Phil sighed again. Looking up at Wilbur with kind eyes, the hate from his previous thoughts wiped free. "I hate leaving him with that much pressure. He's only twelve".

After the dinner everyone slowly retired to their rooms. Techno had stolen Phil again for some last minute run by plans, so in his stead Wilbur walked you to your room. You both didn't Talk long however, you both were aware that you would be up early the next day. Oh yeah, you were definitely up early. The sun hadn't rose yet and you were already being shaken awake by one of the maids. Telling you that Techno and Phil were patiently waiting. you hurried to change not wanting to leave them waiting any longer.

When you saw them in the hall you had just thrown your cloak and cape over your shoulders. The new attire Phil had made for you was just mostly more layers. This way if you got warm you could shed a few, or vise versa when you were cold.

“I'm so sorry I kept you waiting-” you stopped mid sentence you couldn't believe what you saw. If anyone could have seen your face, they may have assumed you had witnessed a murder for the way your jaw hung open.

There stood Techno in front of you, Phil by his side. But that's not what had your mouth open. Techno’s mask was long discarded, and by the gods was he good looking. Maybe not in the typical sense of beauty standards, but to you he was ethereal. He had scars, yes, but that only added to him. Maybe if he didn't have the scars he would have blown the beauty standard of Handsome, but speaking for yourself you prefer him with the scars. You definitely prefer the scars. There was a small scar over his lip. Then one larger one across his brow bone that dragged down to his cheek. From how the larger one appeared, you could only assume how long it took for it to heal. His eyes were delicate, but they danced ablaze. they were brown, but almost borderline red tinted. Without his mask you could see that he had a rather soft, natural appearance. He was young, younger than you assumed. He looked only about seventeen. The way he was dressed made him look like a casual, young gentleman you would have found on the street. you almost couldn't believe he was the feared Emperor. He must have noticed your lingering eyes, because his lips moved into the ever slightest bemused smirk. When you saw his expression you couldn't help the heat that flushed your cheeks. Worst of all is you could feel your heated cheeks, and that just made you redder from embarrassment. If this was how the trip was going to start, you were in for a long bumpy ride.

“Hello, princess” was all he said. He was purposefully poking at you now. He just learned he had a big effect on you, and oh boy was he ready to torment you with it. You could only avert your eyes, you had nothing to say against that. You didn't even know where to begin with it all. it took you a moment to process. Phil still stood beside Techno, his hand rubbed at his mouth a bit to muffle the chuckle he had.

“w...where’s your skull?... a-aren’t you traveling with it?” oh great, yeah your voice definitely, wasn't taking your side on trying to compose yourself. Techno hummed, he was really amused now.

“Hm? Here I thought you would have preferred this... what a shame, I even shaved.” techno ran his large but delicate hand over his jaw and neck, the rings on his fingers stuck out against his skin. Phil laughed vocally now. The little shit was enjoying this. techno adjusted his stance and crossed his arms. He just held a bemused smirk, oh you so wished nothing more than to rub it off. You didn't care if he was a royal, if you thought you could take him, you would have.

“Ok techno, that's enough, don't want her too red now. she might try and off ya’” Oh don't worry Phil you already thought about it. “don't worry about making us wait either kiddo, we had to get a few things ready anyway” you looked up at Phil as your cheeks finally started to return to normal.

“What were you getting?” you inquired, your brows slightly furrowed.

“This” Techno said, offering a sheath to you. You looked up to him and back down to it. It was a sword, not the one you made, but a different one. “We cant have you defenseless on your trip with us” You hesitated. you knew this was the wrong time to admit that you didn't know how to fight with a sword. You gently took it, parting the blade from its sheath to look it over. It was well made that's for sure, basic Iron, but still strong.

“Your Imperial Majesty...” you were thankful for the sword but, again. you didn't know how to use it. you made them, but you were never taught on how to use one. Your mother forbid it, saying that you already took a man’s trade, there was no need for you to dirty yourself further down the path. “I... I cant...” Techno’s brow lifted in question. “I... d-don't know how to use it...” You felt shame take over you. Fully prepared for them to laugh at you. Instead Phil offered you a slightly surprised look. Techno only made a ‘Heh?’.

“You don't know how to use a sword?” you could only shake your head, looking down slowly. Phil placed his hand on your shoulder reassuringly, moving his head down so he could face you. “Hey... Hey, your ok... Tell ya’ what. Well were out on the trip, we’ll show you ok? It’s still good to carry a sword, just incase things go side-ways. But I promise we’ll make sure you don't have to use it then, ok?” you nodded slowly.

“O-ok, I'm still sorry...” Phil only shook his head, explaining you had nothing to be sorry for. He gently took the sword from you and put it back in it’s case. He told you to lift your arm’s, so that's what you did. He easily maneuvered the belt around your waist and secured the sword your hip. Almost like he would have done to his own kids. The weight of it would have to be something to get used to, but you were thankful that they were not mad or disappointed in you.

The three of you walked to where all the planes were kept. this is where Phil offered you a choice. “Would you like to ride with Techno or I?” Oh, so you had to pick. You gave them a brief blank look.

“I figured I would be riding with you, Phil” You did assume you were just going to ride with him, but you also didnt want to be with techno if he was strickly in a teasing mood. Phil only smiled and nodded.

“Alright’ lets get going then” was all he said. Techno walked passed you and Phil. Making his way over to his plane, there was a heavier cloak waiting on the wing. Techno’s plane was different from the other ones, not physically. His had a crown on the side along with the signa, probably to shownit was the Rulers. He effortlessly threw the heavy cloak over his shoulder and stepped up on the wing. His arm reaching out to pull himself up. jumping into the cockpit easily.

Phil handed you a similar cloak. “it’s colder right now due to the sun being down. you will definitely want this.” you nodded and took it with a ‘thank you’. well you put it on Phil had stepped up onto the wing. pulling his cloak on. He offered his hand down again like he did the last time you flew. His wings were spread out behind him, enjoying the freedom they had before they would be confined. when you took his hand he pulled you up effortlessly. letting you steady yourself before he lifted you up to the cockpit, assisting you in. when you were all situated the planes roared to life. Techno faced Phil and sent a nod. A wordless que. Phil sent a nod back before they both started moving together. Soon before you knew it, you were back in the air heading home.

@goldensunshineshit @snobunns @olyink @lolitsellieletsgobro @jackalopedoodles @angelic-scent @coolleviauchihadreamerlove @artsimatsu @justabalroginthenet @seme1e @fangirl570 @sweeetteaa @awlawdtheycoming @idkwhatusernametohave

#techno x reader #technoblade x you #technoblade x reader #TE

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tummyachesandchocolatecakes · 4 years ago

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i really liked your writing about the chinese food? don't know if you remember what i'm talking about lol but something else like that would be great. sorry if this is too vague

I’m pretty sure I know the one you mean! If it isn’t and this isn’t what you had in mind, just hit me up again and I’ll write something else!

The annual fair has come back into town, and you and your friends decide to head out. Everyone is excited as there isn’t much to do in your small hometown so the fair is a big deal. Everyone is excited for the rides and entertainment, but you’re most excited for the food. Just thinking of the sweet treats and savoury snacks has your mouth watering.

Upon arrival you all decide to have a bite to eat before exploring too far. You head to a food stall close by, and decide on loaded fries. They all sound so good you order two portions so you don’t have to choose, you pick the chilli beef and the spicy pulled pork. You all sit down at a picnic bench and dig in.

You take a bite of the chilli fries first, the flavourful spices igniting your tastebuds like fireworks. You devour half of them before deciding to try the pork. When they said spicy, they meant it. You can handle your spice but even you find yourself needing a drink. Leaving your food with your friends momentarily you head to the milkshake stand. Peanut butter chocolate chip of course, and you make it a large. Why not you think, it’s part of the fun!

Returning to your friends you have a large gulp of your shake, the sweet taste feeling amazing in your mouth. You finish off the chilli fries before moving back to the spicy pork. By now you acknowledge the fact that actually, you’re not hungry anymore. But you can’t waste the fries so you eat them anyway, interchanging every other mouthful with a swig or three of thick creamy milkshake. Everyone else is ready to leave so you eat it all at lightning speed. You finish the fries and down the last of the milkshake before leaning back slightly. You’re overly full. Not completely stuffed, but beyond the point of being “comfortably” full. You give you’re belly a little rub, it’s protruding a tiny bit but not hugely bloated. You encourage up a huge belch, it’s thick with the milkshake and it lasts a long time. You’re friends laugh, and you all get up and make your way to the next activity.

You all decide on watching a fire eating show, followed by playing some carnival games. By now you’re feeling a lot less full, so when someone suggests a snack you’re all for it. This is where you’re gluttony sets in. Choosing just one snack out of all of the wonderful choices is too hard. So you buy a selection, stating you intention is to share it all out with your friends, though you yourself know that you’re going to have more than your fair share.

Donuts, churros, candy floss, ice cream, popcorn, deep fried mars bars, and chocolate coated strawberries (fruit is healthy right?) fill your arms as you find a shaded place on the grass to sit.

You go for a donut first, followed by a churro. Your lips and fingers covered in sugar. Annoyingly you find yourself feeling full already. Another small rub to your belly brings up a little gas, allowing for some more room. Next you eat the ice cream, it’s soft where it’s started melting in the heat. Each lick taste wonderful and refreshing, you chose a vanilla and it’s super creamy. And of course what goes better with vanilla ice cream than chocolate strawberries? You devour the lot in under five minutes. To break things up a little and refresh your palate, you then chug half a bottle of water. Once you pull the bottle away from your lips, you become aware of a heavy feeling in your stomach. You try to encourage up yet another burp, but instead get a regurgitated mouthful of water mixed with undigested ice cream. Swallowing it back down, you lean back, suddenly acutely aware of how full you are. The fullness is increasing by the second, and you’re stomach begins to ache a bit. Letting out a deep breath, you place your hand on you belly and begin rubbing circles on it, praying to aid it in the digestion of all the food crammed inside it. Your belly grumbles and whines unhappily as it tries to break down all of the sugar and fat soaked food inside of it. You can feel it bloating, expanding to accommodate all of the food it’s that you’ve shovelled inside. You feel a gas bubble forming, but even the thought of burping makes you feel queasy. You rub a little harder, hoping against hope that you’ll be able to disperse the bubble and hold out on burning until everything is a little more settled inside you’re now pretty upset tummy. But no, the rubbing just encourages the air up and you feel it rising within you, along with a lump of undigested dough filled stomach acid. No matter how much you try and suppress it, this burp is coming. You lean forward over your gurgling tummy, anticipating vomiting. But all that comes up is a gigantic wet, sickly belch that vibrates through your entire being. Once again you’re friends laugh, commenting on you gluttony and your iron gut. You don’t have it in you to tell them that actually your belly was feeling far from iron clad, that in fact you were in a lot of discomfort, bordering on actual pain. But it’s okay you think, as you’ll have some time to let your belly recover before moving on. Except you’re wrong.

One friend suggests moving on to the rides and attractions. Everyone eagerly agrees and you’re encouraged to finish up. You place the popcorn and candy floss into your rucksack, they’re both in plastic bags so can be eaten at a later date. Then you get to the deep fried mars bar. The grease from the batter has already leaked through the wrapping, meaning you can’t put it aside for later. You offer it around but nobody else wants it, all of them seem a little grossed out at the idea of the deep fried candy bar. You go to throw it away, but you are stopped by a friend who tells you what a waste it would be. That leaves only one option, to eat it. Your belly is upset already, still bloating bigger as you’re all wondering around choosing rides. You can feel all of the food mixing together and not settling at all. You’re gut has started feeling bloated and gassy lower down too, meaning that the fries from earlier are also upsetting your intestines, as much as you love spicy food it doesn’t always love you.

But you do it. Despite your poor tummy practically screaming at you not to, you take a bite of the mars bar. The mouthful of batter mixed with the sweet candy bar tastes divine, but you don’t have time to enjoy it. You forcefully swallow it down, taking another bite before your belly has time to process what you’re doing. Bite, swallow, bite, swallow, bite, swallow, bite. It’s the last bite that gets you. You hold it in your mouth way longer than necessary, because you can already feel the rest of it practically sitting in your oesophagus because there just isn’t any room in your tummy to put it. After a slow deep breath through your nose, you force yourself to swallow. The battered candy slowly slides its way down your throat, and sits itself in what feels like your chest. But you’ve done it. It’s all gone.

And then you get a sharp pain in the centre of your stomach. You’re tummy catching up to what you’ve just put inside it. It’s not happy, not happy at all. A long, deep gurgle comes from your stomach as it moves things around to find room. Room that doesn’t exist. Your stomach stretches, pushing tightly against your skin, tighter than it’s ever been before. Your belly gurgles some more, and the food settles like a rock in your tummy. Hard, heavy and unmovable. You’re friends have chosen a ride, one of those ghost trains with questionable scares and even more questionable sanitation. You excuse yourself from this ride, telling a half truth, that you think ghost trains are lame. You place yourself on a nearby bench as they get in line.

Once they’re out of sight, you allow yourself to feel the full effects of your food consumption. You leans back into the wooden bench, spreading your legs wide to accommodate you’re severely bloated tummy. You pull up your top. You are huge, like 8 months pregnant kind of huge. Your stomach is protruding far out from you, your jeans cutting into you tightly. You would love nothing more than to pop the button, but know if you did that then it would not go back together. You place your hands on your stomach and rub it desperately. It’s solid, when you push it doesn’t give at all, it’s so tight and round it almost feels like it’s actively pushing out against your hands whilst your rub. Sickening groans and sloshing gurgles continue to be emitted, as you experience the hot flushes and tingling sweaty sensations of nausea. Your bend forward, cradling your aching belly and rocking back and forth whilst also rubbing hard and fast circles over your engorged abdomen.

All to quickly you see your friends returning and you straighten up, not wanting to be caught. They all agree that the ghost train had been lame, though you’re not really listening as you fight off wave after wave of nausea. Standing up to join your friends brings a new issue. As soon as you’re upright you’re stomach seems to go into overdrive, gurglings and sloshing in your tummy, whilst huge cramps suddenly engulf your intestines. You double over, not sure if you’re going to throw up or shit yourself. You cradle you’re tummy and groan, feeling like a bloated whale out of water. Once the cramps finally pass you’re able to straighten up, only to see that your friends had already began to walk away and hadn’t noticed. You sigh a small sigh of relief before slowly waddling to catch up with them.

Walking isn’t helping. Each step increases the pain surging through every inch of your poor bulging belly. Your jeans are cutting so deeply into you that you’re beginning to fear they’ll actually draw blood. You walk with your hand up your shirt, rubbing profusely at your aching sick tummy. And then someone notices. They slow down, joining you at the back of the group. They ask if you’re okay, and by now you don’t have it in you to lie. You tell them how much your tummy is hurting, how sick you feel and how upset your tummy is. You pull your shirt up and let them see the swell of your stomach. They’re shocked, placing they’re hands on your tummy and pushing it slowly. You feel something rising in your throat and turn away, but only a small sickly burp escapes you. And then you stop. Your friends have chosen a ride. A roller coaster. You begin thinking up excuses to not go, but know they all know that you’re a roller coaster fiend.

That’s when your friend turns to you and quietly asks if you want to leave now feeling so sick or if you want to feel a bit better first. You look at them questioningly as they point at the ride. Oh. You stand there, wondering what to do, but your tummy is so sore, so bloated, so sick, you know what needs to be done. As you all queue for the ride, you and your friend remain at the back of the group. They place their hands on your tummy, rubbing it gently and soothingly. The pressure in you tummy is still growing, your belly so big and so tightly packed you can barely breath. Your friend moved their hands down and pops your button. Your fly undoes itself from the pressure, and your belly let’s put a huge groan of relief as it has more room to accommodate the greasy food and ever building gas and awfully digested food. You groan in painful pleasure at the release of some pressure, though by the time you reach the front of the line your belly is fully bloated and tight as a drum again.

They sit you two by two, your friend sat by you to offer comfort and continues tending to your belly as everyone boards. When the lap bar is pulled down, it pushes tightly into your stomach, and you let out a huge sickly belch along with a wet, gut wrenching fart. Your friend chuckles a little, patting you reassuringly on the knee before the ride begins.

The rollercoaster begins it’s incline and the contents of your tummy sloshes backwards making you nauseous once again. And then the coaster drops, and turns and jolts along the tracks. The insides of your belly splash and move in all directions. You close your eyes as the nausea builds and builds and builds. All of the food mixes and swirls within you, and you can feel it all bubbling sickly. Your skin is prickly with sweat as you feel acid rushing up your throat whilst you swallow thickly to keep it down a little longer. Finally the ride stops, the lap bar raises, and you run off of the ride and out of the exit. You don’t have time to find a trash can, your tummy is so sick and upset and the nausea is building fast.

Finally you exit the ride area and dash to the side of the path before collapsing onto your hands and knees. You wretch once, nothing but spit comes up. You wrap your arm round your belly, it’s so tight and painful that you can’t not do it. And then you feel pressure building again and you know what you have to do. You push your hand into you tummy forcefully, and that’s all it takes.

A wave of sickly sweet vomit projectiles our of your mouth, splattering onto the grass. You have no time to even breath before another wave forces it’s way out of your mouth. You vomit with such force you feel like you’re going to fall into your own sick. But a pair of hands grabs your shoulders holding you up.

Wave after wave of projectile vomit escapes you until you’re left dry heaving profusely into the grass. Your friend pulls you away from your sick and seats you between their legs. They tell you that they’ve made the others leave and it’s just the two of you. They rub their hands deeply into your tummy, interchanging between circular motions and palpating you’re still very bloated tummy. You assess yourself, seeing that you still look pregnant and that your tummy is still rock solid. As they rub your tummy you begin bringing up gas, belching wet sickly burps that occasionally bring up mouthfuls of partially digested food that you forcefully swallow back down. Then your intestines cramp, you force your friends hand deeply into the pain, and they rub hard forceful circles into it. Once the cramp passes they then focus on the lower area of your tummy. Groans and gurgle escape, and they get louder and more urgent sounding. Cramps begin to hit more frequently, and pressure continues to build. You know you’re going to need a toilet pretty soon and you know it’s going to be an awful experience, but you’re glad you’re friend will be here to help you expel all of the upset and pain from within your poor distended tummy.

#belly kink writing #belly kink #emeto writing #emeto #belly aches #stuffed belly #tummy stuffing #tummy ache writing #burps #farts #sick #sick tummy #stomach ache #i love stomach aches #gassy #gassy tummy #bloated #bloated belly

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adventuresindolls · 3 years ago

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Meet Lexie Chapter 2: Shul

As they pulled up in front of the synagogue, Lexie was so nervous she couldn’t keep her hands from flapping all around. She stayed right next to Papa while they walked in. Sophie, of course, was running ahead.

Lexie felt a little better once they were inside. It looked a lot like their old synagogue, with dark carpet and high ceilings and the wooden ark—the big cabinet that holds the Torah scrolls—at the front of the room. She felt like she could breathe a little bit better. She knew what to do here.

Lexie had made a deal with Daddy this morning that if she came to service today and talked to people at the oneg meal after, she didn’t have to come back tomorrow for Sunday school, when it would just be kids and teachers. Sophie had asked if that meant she could go tomorrow and not today, but Daddy said no because there was no one to stay home with her.

No one usually believed this, but Lexie did really like people. She just was no good at them and never knew what she was supposed to say. But that didn’t mean she didn’t like them. Still holding onto Papa’s hand, she looked around at the people who were talking and laughing before sitting down. There were a few other kids sitting up front with each other instead of their families.

Lexie kind of wanted to go talk to them, but that might be too much newness for one day. So instead she sat between her dads and chewed on her rubber octopus until the first prayers started.

By the time they finished singing an hour later, Lexie felt both very happy and very restless. Hebrew songs, even the ones she couldn’t understand, always made her feel light inside and safe and happy. She liked to imagine the lives of everyone else who had sung those same prayers for all the hundreds of years since they were written. But it was hard to sit still for a whole hour, and she couldn’t help swinging her legs a bit under her chair.

Lexie counted five other kids who weren’t too little but also weren’t teenagers. Three of them left right away, though, so when she sat down at the end of the table, there were only two girls next to her.

“Hi,” said the girl closest to her. “I’m Rebecca. Are you visiting?”

Lexie, of course, had just stuffed a strawberry into her mouth. She could feel her cheeks turning pink while she tried to chew quickly and they stared at her. Finally, when she could talk again, she said, “No. I just moved here. And I’m Lexie.” Her eyes didn’t move from her plate.

“I’m Angie,” said the girl on the other side of Rebecca. She had to lean very far forward to see Lexie, and her hair was dragging in her food. She didn’t seem to care. “Do you like anime? We love to draw our favorite anime characters. You should definitely hang out with us after Sunday school tomorrow.”

“I'm not coming tomorrow.” The idea of new friends was tempting, though. “Maybe next week?”

"Next week is the day before school starts," said Rebecca. "We don't have Sunday school."

Before Lexie could decide if she was relieved or disappointed, Angie added, "But we'll see you at service again. And you should come on Sunday once school starts."

"Ok. I watch anime sometimes, especially the magic ones."

"Ooh, I like the sports ones mostly but my sister is always drawing these magic girls," Angie said.

This led to a long discussion about the best kind of anime eyes. Lexie's friends at her old school had also liked to draw their favorite anime characters, so she was confident in her opinions. She almost didn't want to leave when Daddy tapped her shoulder, even though they had been done eating for a while.

It was still a relief to sink into the backseat of the car. Her ears were still ringing from the noise of a room full of chatter. She closed her eyes and relaxed into the familiar smell of graham crackers that filled the old car. It was quiet and the oppressive heat made her instantly sleepy.

This lasted for about 30 seconds until Sophie threw herself into the other seat. "I made another best friend and we're gonna sit together at Sunday school and then she's gonna come play with my Otters." Sophie was very proud of her collection of tiny velveteen otters. They even had little houses and furniture. Lexie thought they were the only things Sophie had taken our of the boxes that still filled her room.

"We have to unpack. She's not gonna come over this week."

"Yeah!"

"No, Sophie!"

"Papa said!" Her whine was getting louder and Lexie found herself rocking with the stress of making her sister understand.

At that moment, their dads opened the front doors and climbed in.

"Papa, tell Lexie my friend is coming over!"

"Daddy, make Sophie be quiet!"

Daddy's sharp clap made both girls freeze. Clapping for silence had been used since Lexie could talk, but by now they only pulled it out when the girls were getting too rowdy or too close to arguing.

They had a system. If Daddy got them to listen, Papa had to have the discussion. The air in the car was getting ever more hot and stuffy, but Daddy didn't turn the key. Papa turned around to face the backseat.

"Lexie, focus on your own life and not your sister's. Sophie, not everyone always needs to know every detail of your life. Ok?"

There were muttered "Ok"s and Daddy finally turned on the car, and the air conditioning with it. Chastened, Lexie watched the unfamiliar tree-lined streets fly past. The cool air and relative quiet was a relief. She hoped fall came soon and winter brought snow. She was embarrassed at getting in trouble already, but there was also a glimmer of hope and excitement. School hadn't even started yet and she'd met girls her age who were nice. They liked anime more than octopuses, but she was used to deferring to her friends' interests. She was weird and autistic, but that was ok. She just had to do what other kids wanted to and they might like her well enough. It had worked before.

By the time they got home Sophie was chattering about her friend again, but Lexie didn't mind as much. She actually felt a bit better. She'd known most of the kids in her old class since kindergarten, and it was comforting to have already met a couple she would see this year. The still mostly-empty house didn't seem as strange and forbidding as before as she bounded up the stairs to her neatly organized room and threw herself on the bed to get lost in her favorite book again. She knew no one would bother her until dinner; she had spent the whole morning with people and been sufficiently social, and her reward was a quiet afternoon to read.

#American girl dolls #our generation #AG spinoff #Lexie's series #my dolls #Lexie #I'm sorry it's been like 2 months almost #I was dealing with school #But I'm gonna try really hard to keep it up #I hope you all like it

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ariparri · 4 years ago

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This drawing was inspired by a story my friend cursedautumn wrote for me as her part of our usual story for art trade.

It's been so long since I've drawn something in this style, I was scared I was going to give up half way through the entire thing. But nope, I was quite ambitious and pulled through 9 hours to finish this piece!

Look at that! It's absolutely beautiful 😭 I can stare at this and be so damn proud of it all day!

Speaking of the story, you can read it here under the cut. Flowers may be my absolute favorite from autumn's stories, but this was just too cute. I just adore the father/daughter dynamic Veruca and Elroy have.

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

His Princess

"Alrighty, I'm leaving." Wilhelmina kissed Elroy on the cheek and took the bag. “I'll be there in the evening, don't wait for me early. I left a list of products that Vera needs to be fed. Are you sure you can handle it?"

"You underestimate me," Elroy growled, jokingly offended. "Veruca will be fine, I'm a fully capable father, Wil. Go and have a good rest, you'll see when you come back, the house will shine, and the child will have the tenth dream." Wilhelmina smiled dryly and rolled her eyes. "You're the same as always. Well, I'm off."

With that, she opened the door and went out. Elroy watched her go for a while until she disappeared behind the fence, then closed the door and took a deep breath. Elroy McQuaid was a father of two children, but, frankly, he had already forgotten what it was like to stay all day with a small child. Coby had grown up a long time ago, now he was at Hogwarts (where, by the way, he recently received an indignant letter from Minerva McGonagall about his son's behavior), and little Veruca did not want to sit still and quickly came up with entertainment for herself: she rolled away from her father, turning over from her back to her stomach, then, on the contrary, crawled up to him and began pulling his hair or stubble. Elroy didn't mind, but he couldn't let his daughter roll around on the floor all day and pinch him! He had to think of something to do. So he picked up Veruca in his arms and spoke, "What should we do? We're going to play with toys, aren't we, baby?"

"Yes!" Veruca said glibly. She didn't know how to speak yet, but she already knew words like "yes", "not", "ma", "pa" and "Co-i" (that is, Coby). Elroy was infinitely proud of his daughter; Wilhelmina took it much more calmly and even laughed at his constant delight. Elroy was slightly offended: "How can you, Wil? She talks great for her age!", but there were no big quarrels because of this, and he understood that his wife showed love for her daughter in a slightly different way.

As soon as she was in her room, Veruca clung tightly to a wooden box filled to the brim with toys. There were dolls, plush toys, a plastic tea set, with which the baby sometimes gently beat her older brother, several suits with bat wings and many other means of entertainment. Elroy watched in silence as she turned over the wooden box, and sighed to himself: later he would have to take a long and painstaking time to clean up the mess that his daughter had made. But he obediently waited until all the contents of the box were on the floor, and smiled, "Come on, Vera, choose what we will play."

Veruca thought for a while and a soft bat colored so bright it was slowly eating out Elroy's eyes. This bat was given to the McQuaid family by friends a few years ago, and at first Coby played with it, and then it was taken away from him by his younger sister. Veruca took it out at every opportunity and forced the first family member she met to entertain her, holding her in their hands and "butting" the girl with a toy. Elroy didn't have much choice right now. He asked, "Are we going to play this?"

"Yes!" Veruca nodded. She had the same light green eyes as Elroy, like clear, transparent water.

"All right," he agreed. "I'll butt you. Come on…" Suddenly, he quickly grabbed the toy and began to gently poke his daughter in the face. Veruca burst into a ringing childish laugh, trying to grab a bat, and randomly waved her plump hands in the air. Elroy poked the toy first on her cheek, then in her stomach, then in her shoulder, and she laughed and made futile attempts to outwit dad and catch her pet. At that moment, Veruca strangely reminded Elroy of a young Wilhelmina, just as cheerful, laughing happily, not yet so strict and upset by the behavior of her growing son. Actually, Veruca was much more like her father, but there was already something about her that made her obviously the daughter of Wilhelmina McQuaid.

After playing with the bat, Veruca lost interest in it and took up a book of fairy tales written by the bard Beadle. Of course, it was still too early for her to read them, but the bright pictures on the glossy paper attracted the eye, and the baby ran her finger along the pages with genuine interest, looking questioningly at Elroy, as if asking what was depicted here. Most of all, she was interested in pictures of beautiful queens, princesses and sorceresses, women with long hair, dressed in dresses, robes and heavy jewelry. The girl especially liked the drawing of Morgan Le Fay, a tall red-haired woman with light green eyes, in a white dress. Veruca poked at it with her finger and hooted.

"This, baby, is Morgan Le Fay. She was a very outstanding sorceress, healer and fortune-teller. The sorcerers bewitched people, Vera, they are also wizards, it's just that their magic was different. And Morgan was both a sorceress and a witch. It's complicated, isn't it?" Elroy explained, to which Veruca frowned and turned away, indicating that she was not interested in this topic. She always did this when she did not understand what was being said to her, but she did not want to show her ignorance — it hurts her pride so much!

And even though Veruca was still a very little girl, she had pride. This pleased Elroy: if self-confidence and healthy pride are inherent in a person from childhood, nothing will knock them out of there. So let his daughter be proud. It was better to have pride than not to have it, his sister had once told him, and Elroy completely agreed with her.

Suddenly, his daughter turned over on her stomach and, starting to turn over slowly, rolled in the opposite direction from him. Elroy was so surprised that he didn't even understand what was happening, and he stared at Veruсa with his mouth open for a few seconds, and then he realized that the typical willfulness of the McQuaids had awakened in her, and she decided to try to move herself. Attempts to "escape" have occurred before, but Wilhelmina, with the air of a connoisseur, assured that this is normal and there is no need to interfere with the child's self-development.

"Veruca!" Elroy called out to his daughter.

"Ah!" she answered him and giggled, once again turning over on her stomach. "Vera," the man said more quietly. "Where are you going?" Veruca smiled with an almost toothless mouth and giggled louder. Elroy sighed loudly and got to his feet to put the mischievous girl back in her place.

Suddenly, Veruca reached out with a tiny hand and grabbed the leg of a chair. She tensed, slightly lifting the body and pulling her legs under her.

And then she began to get up — in the literal sense, to get to her feet, holding tightly to the leg of the chair, as if for a handrail, and finally straightened up and stood up, swaying slightly. Elroy froze in mute amazement, joy and disbelief, watching his little daughter, his princess, stand on her feet for the first time, and was afraid to even sigh and break the great moment. This feeling was even brighter than what he had experienced when Coby first got on his feet, much, much brighter, although Elroy did not want to admit it to himself.

It seems that Veruca was afraid of her own independence and the next second fell on the carpet and began to cry. Elroy was at his daughter's side in the blink of an eye and hastily picked her up in his arms, saying affectionately:

"Don't cry, Vera, don't cry, my princess, everything will be fine, you're a good girl. Look, you got up for the first time today, can you imagine?" and he kissed the top of her head, stroking her back. Veruca's crying wasn't caused by pain or anything worse, it's just that she hardly expected such sharp physical progress from herself.

So he patiently calmed her down until the girl stopped crying and wearily buried her face in her father's shirt.

"Do you want to sleep?" Elroy asked gently. "Let's go sit outside. It started raining there, we'll swing in the chair, listen to the weather…"

They did just that. Elroy went out onto the terrace. There he sat down in a wicker rocking chair with Veruca in his arms and was quiet; a summer downpour was really rustling on the green street and in the garden. The storm swelled over the McQuaid estate, rallying in the sky in a dense purple wall, ready to crack and burst into lightning. But while there were no loud noises, Elroy held the sleeping Veruca, wrapped in a plump purple blanket with a bat's face, in his arms and looked at the blooming garden. There was an unusual calmness in his soul, although, in general, there was no cause for alarm; nevertheless, such satisfaction in his soul had not been for a long time-maybe because he was the father of two children, the eldest of whom was now supplying his school with problems, and the youngest was still very small and helpless, like a porcelain doll. They had to look after both of them, and it was difficult for him and Wilhelmina. Very difficult.

Elroy kissed the top of Veruca's head as she dozed off. No, he was grateful to his wife, Providence, and himself a million times for his daughter, because since his youth his dream was to have a daughter, his little princess, just like from fairy tales. As a child, he saw how carefully his father treats his sister, and just dreamed of doing the same.

And now he had Veruca.

His little girl.

His princess.

Elroy wrapped his daughter more tightly in the blanket and began to doze a little himself. The storm did not break out with thunder and lightning, only the rain began to rustle more loudly, and somewhere on the horizon a rainbow began to appear, as if the sky was watching the father and daughter and letting a bright ray through the summer rainy haze.

The rainbow was flaring up. Elroy and Veruca were sleeping peacefully.

#ariparri #elroy mcquaid #veruca mcquaid #hogwarts mystery #hphm #harry potter hogwarts mystery #hphm mc #hogwarts mystery mc #fanfic #hogwarts mystery fanfic #fanfiction #hphm fanfiction #hphm fanart #hogwarts mystery fanart #jacob's sibling

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ceapa-mica · 3 years ago

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GEHAT’IK BE ALIIT | Chapter 6

{cross-posted on ao3} {masterlist}

← previous chapter next chapter →

pairing: Din Djarin x Original Female Character

warnings: angst, violence

words: 8306

summary: Elora sets out for the Dune Sea to meet with another Jawa tribe. Of course this journey doesn't go according to plan, and she has to face the harsh conditions and inhabitants of Tatooine.

a/n: Hello and Happy Halloween everybody! 🎃

I'm back from the dead with a new exciting chapter for y'all.

Enjoy! ♥️

Chapter 6: The Dune Sea

Mando threw his hand of cards onto the small crate in front of him with a frustrated grunt. How Elora managed to win every single game of sabacc was a mystery to him. Was she secretly cheating? He had no idea. Unlike most people in this Galaxy, he didn't enjoy gambling, and it showed. What had turned out as a triple loss for him had started as just another petty argument between them. There were no stakes, as they considered their game as nothing more but a very competitive distraction from hours of hyperspace travel.

“With your luck be glad you didn't stake the Crest . You always catch the wrong moment, and you had some pretty good hands.”

“Where did you learn to play sabacc so well?”

“My uncle Toc is the best sabacc player of my tribe and all of Arvala-7. He taught me and my siblings how to play sabacc whenever he could. When I was around ten he taught me how to shoot a blaster. An actual blaster, not just an ion blaster. My parents criticized him for that, because Jawas traditionally use only ion blasters. My uncle may be an oddball, but he knows how to handle a blaster and when to use a good hand at sabacc.”

“You miss your clan.” Mando concluded.

“Of course I miss them, but they get along without me. The kid needs me more than they do right now.” She looked to Mando’s sleeping nook where the child was napping in a small makeshift hammock Mando had made for him.

“Elora, the reason you left your clan was to find out more about yourself and to find your human relatives. Just... don't get too attached to the kid. I'm gonna bring him back to his kind. He belongs to people who understand him, including his powers. All our ways will separate one day. It's for the best.”

Mando stood up and ascended the ladder to the cockpit, leaving Elora speechless in the hull. Just when she'd thought he was opening up a bit he did the contrary. Sensing his inner turmoil in the Force didn't make it easier. As much as she wanted to talk to him about it, she knew how uncomfortable it made him, knowing the beskar couldn't hide his emotions completely from her. After she put away his old sabacc game she looked after the child, waking him by gently rocking his little makeshift hammock.

“Did you take a sweet nap, little sleepyhead?” The child cooed tiredly and yawned, showing his baby teeth. “Aww yes you did. Now let's find you something to eat.” She picked him up and kissed the tip of his tiny button nose before warming up a meal consisting of meat and veggies. As usual the child had to be bribed to eat his veggies and he was constantly planting images of frogs, lizards and bugs in Elora's mind.

“How about you show me something useful? How can I connect with you like this anyway?”

The child gestured to the floor in front of him, putting the little tray aside. Elora had noticed before that she had a different way of understanding him than Mando. She watched the child close his eyes as he relaxed where he was sitting. He put the image of her sitting on the floor in front of him into her mind.

“I can't believe this.” She did exactly as he'd shown her, and closed her eyes. Her breath became calm. For a while she waited for any sign. Nothing happened. “I don't know what you want from me, kid.” she murmured, shifting slightly on the floor. That's when a light feeling from outside nudged her soul. She knew right away the child was reaching out to her. In her attempt to reply she felt how her mind and feelings reached out. First thing she thought about was riding her speeder bike through the valley on Arvala-7 and her family. In return the child showed her images of bright hallways with large columns and people of many other kinds, other children among them – a happy memory of his. Elora didn't know what to make of it. She didn't recognize that beautiful place in his memory. Was this his home? His family? Her thoughts found their way to the child through the mental connection they'd just built. Several images of Jedi flooded her mind. Before anything else could transpire the Razor Crest was hit by several shots. The peaceful moment they had shared was over.

“Come up here!” Mando called from the cockpit. Elora grabbed the child and went to sit down in one of the co-pilot seats, clutching the child firmly against her chest. She gritted her teeth in fear while the little one didn't seem to mind the turbulences at all.

“Hand over the child, Mando.” a voice spoke on the intercom. The following shot hit one of the Crest's engines. The turbulences and risky maneuvers made Elora's stomach turn. Mando tried to get out of the attacker's crosshair. Her heart skipped a beat and she felt increasingly more lightheaded with each turbulence.

“I can bring you in warm or I can bring you in cold” the attacker mocked.

“Get us out of here!” Elora yelled, barely keeping herself from throwing up. She let out a high pitched scream when he suddenly pulled the brakes. The attacker didn’t expect this reckless maneuver. His ship overflew the Crest and Mando managed to shoot it to bits.

“That's my line.” he muttered and checked on his companions. “Are you alright?”

“Just great, Mando. Really...” It took everything in her to not throw up.

“Losing fuel. We'll need to do an emergency landing.” he informed her. “The closest planet's Tatooine. A good place to look for a job and for you to visit your people. Maybe they have what you require to build your weapon.”

The feeling of nausea didn't falter. As soon as the Razor Crest touched the sandy grounds of Mos Eisley’s Hangar 3-5, Elora stumbled down the hatch and threw up noisily into an empty plant pot.

“You there! Didn't your parents ever tell you not to throw up into other people's properties?” The woman who called her out got instantly distracted by a shot. “Hey! You damage one of my droids, you pay for it!”

Elora sat down on the solid ground and took a few deep breaths of the warm dry desert air.

“Is she ok?” the mechanic asked.

“She'll be fine. Keep your droids away from my ship!” While Mando and the mechanic went to inspect the damage on the Crest , the child waddled down the hatch and climbed on Elora's lap. She wiped the corners of her mouth and put the child in her bag.

“Nothing feels better than solid ground under my feet, little one. All this space stuff is not my cup of tea anyway. You know what I'm talking about, right?” The child babbled and then looked around with curious eyes. Elora had heard a lot about Tatooine. Jawas originated from this world and most of her tribe's stories took place in this world’s vast desert. What she hadn't considered was the heat. Tatooine with its twin suns was completely dry, unlike Arvala-7 where a little downpour here and there was possible and the temperature wasn't as high. First thing she pulled up her hood to protect her scalp from the excessive amount of sunlight and considered covering her face again, but decided against it... at least for the moment.

“What do you think you're doing?” Mando stood behind her, arms crossed.

“I go looking for my people. Trading for the parts I require.”

“Leave the kid here.” He gestured at the child in Elora's bag.

“You wanna take him on your hunting trip? Bad idea, he's safer with me.”

“I could take him. That'll cost you extra, but he'll be safe here. The outskirts of the city are no place for a little womp rat like him.” the mechanic, who'd introduced herself as Peli Motto, offered. Mando and Elora exchanged a look. Elora nodded, signifying she couldn't sense any ill intentions in this woman. Mando agreed to Peli's offer and Elora handed the child over to her.

“Good luck on your hunt, Mando. I'll try to be back by tomorrow and I'll comm you in case it takes longer.”

“Good luck to you, too.”

It felt strange leaving the child with somebody they'd just met. Mando trusted Elora regarding the judging of someone's character. After all, Tatooine could be a very dangerous place, especially when there was a large bounty on your head.

Armed with two blasters and a handful of credits in her bag she walked the busy roads of Mos Eisley. Vendors were yelling their best offers. Fruits and vegetables imported from throughout the Galaxy, handcrafted jewelry, and second hand blasters to name a few of the offered goods. Though the market was incredibly noisy, it wasn't hard for her to filter distinctive little voices in her language out of said noise. She soon found two Jawas arguing over a landspeeder fuel line.

“Excuse my interruption, I’m looking for a diatium power cell, a power regulation chamber and a power conversion cone.” She showed the Jawas her list which she'd jotted down in her native writing on a piece of flimsi.

“Foreign friend speaks and writes Jawa as if you were raised Jawa. You should visit our tribe in the Dune Sea. Maybe our tribe has what you are looking for. Beware, desert walking is dangerous. Better rent a speeder or dewback.”

She thanked the Jawas for their advice and went looking for a mode of transport.

If she had noticed one thing about the locals, it was their roughness. They were as rough and resilient as the desert itself and worked very hard to get by. It didn't take long until she could sense somebody's enormous greed. That somebody was a dewback dealer. A Devaronian with multiple scars across his face and a whip in his hands which he used on a chained up dewback who growled in agony.

“Stop hurting this magnificent creature!” Elora yelled without a second thought.

“Mind your own business, child of a bantha!” he bellowed, continuing the torture, hitting the gentle beast twice as hard. Far beyond tense, she focused on the whip in his hand until she had the Force around it in her grip. She pulled and the whip flew out of the Devaronian's hand over to her. Her anger caused the whip to splinter into tiny pieces in her Force grip.

“What have you done?! Looks like I need to teach you a lesson!” As he approached her she focused on the chains that captured the poor dewback. Again, she pulled and let the Force take the chains and used them to tie up the dealer around a fence post faster than he could react.

“You're gonna regret this, you filthy little-”

“Aw really? I'd love to stay and have a chat with you, but look at the time, I gotta go!”

Elora approached the dewback. She could sense its fear. Slowly she reached out to touch it. Closing her eyes she tried to build a connection to the creature, just like she had with the child earlier. She was able to sense the dewback in the Force and sent reassuring images and feelings its way. She opened her eyes when she felt thick scaly skin under her palm. The dewback faced her and gently licked her palm with its sticky tongue. She sensed the creature's gratitude. While the Devaronian still yelled all kinds of expletives at her while writhing in the chains, she climbed up into the saddle and gently patted the beast, then used the Force to show it an image of a sandcrawler and Jawas. The creature groaned gently and set off towards the endless horizon.

Elora was puzzled at how well she had handled this situation. Reaching out through the Force into the mind of another had turned out to be very useful, despite this being only the second time she'd done so. The child had taught her a very valuable lesson with this and probably didn't even know it, she thought. This time she hadn't been afraid of her abilities, just like on Nevarro when saving the child from the clutches of the Imps. It was exactly like Maz had told her - the more she got to know the Force, the less her insecurities would become.

The twin suns burned down on Elora's covered head. Not long after mounting the dewback she'd put on her Jawa face mask to keep the sand out of her eyes and to protect her from the bright twin suns' light. The creature apparently knew the way. She realized Tatooine wasn't like her home world at all. There was no familiar valley. In the Dune Sea everything looked the same. Sometimes she noticed bones or wreckage parts sticking out of the sand, like the desert decided who lived and who died traveling through it. The longer she was exposed to the heat, the more unbearable it became. Even someone like her, who'd lived almost all her life in a desert world, had problems with Tatooine.

Suddenly a strange feeling made itself known in her gut. The dewback became quite nervous and pulled on the bridle. Elora could sense its fear of something. That's when their connection broke off and the creature came to a halt, only to lay down in the shadow of a tall dune.

“What is it, my friend?” She got out of the saddle and climbed up the dune to take a look around. A low rumbling sound in the distance caught her ear. When she reached the dune's peak, she noticed a gigantic cloud of sand coming their way. The wind already blew a fair amount of sand in her face. She stumbled back down to the dewback. Now she understood. The creature wasn't scared of the nearing sandstorm, but for her safety. It gingerly pulled on Elora's leg, yet strong enough for her to lose her balance. The dewback pulled her under its belly and relaxed. Elora just knew everything would be alright. She pulled off her face cover, closed her eyes and waited under the creature’s belly for the storm to be over.

Something wet and sticky tickled her cheek, waking her up.

“Mando... Mmm... Mando, that tickles... EW!” She looked up to the dewback who waited next to her, sticky saliva dripping down on her face. The storm had passed and the binary sunset gave the sky a purple hue. She sat up and wiped her face. Surprised, she noticed the dune that'd protected them from the storm was now almost completely gone. Those winds were what changed the Dune Sea, turning it into a maze of death for those unfamiliar with it. Fortunately Elora was used to the dry climate and knew how to survive for days without any civilization in sight. The storm had cost her several hours, she knew there was no time to catch a break if she wanted to be back in time. She climbed back into the saddle and the dewback began to move in a slow trot in the opposite direction of the beautiful sunset.

“Without you the sand would have buried me alive. We saved each other's lives today. I guess we're even.”

Night had fallen hours ago. After having eaten a ration bar dryer than the desert itself, Elora wrapped herself tightly into her grey Jawa robe turned cloak which had always protected her from the cold air during countless desert nights. It almost felt like home to her. But every time she looked at the starry skies above, she was reminded that she was nowhere near close to home. Foreign constellations of stars and planets were shining down on the sands of Tatooine. To her they were like a foreign map she had never learned to read, contrary to the loyal beast on whose back she rode, who seemed to know exactly where it was going.

A sandcrawler appeared as a black silhouette on a dune ridge. This one was much bigger than the one Elora called her home. When the Jawas noticed their mutual on the dewback arriving, they halted the sandcrawler and let down the hatch.

Elora got off the dewback and patted its scaly neck. “Thanks for the ride, my friend.” She took off the saddle and bridle. “You may go. Roam the dunes like you used to before they caught you.”

The gentle creature turned its head and licked her with its sticky tongue one last time before slowly trotting away. She turned towards the hatch where she was welcomed by the tribe’s chief.

“Welcome, offworld friend. What leads you back here to our world of origin?” he asked.

“I’m looking for something. A diatium power cell, a power regulation chamber and a power conversion cone. I have several starship parts and tools in my pockets to trade.”

The Jawas who had gathered around their leader screeched at Elora’s human voice, despite her speaking Jawa Trade like a native.

“How many Jawas did you kill to wear our robes?!”

“My tribe’s chief Bako adopted me. Jawa lives are precious and must be protected at all costs.” she recited.

The Jawas fell silent at her words as only tribe members usually knew about the Jawa codex.

“We do not recognize humans as one of us, adopted or not. Yet I grant you the permission to be our guest.”

So that’s why nobody’s ever heard of Jawas adopting foundlings, because they don’t , Elora thought. It made her wonder why her family had decided to adopt her. Was it just because of her Force sensitivity? No, they had taught her the Jawa way of life and had always treated her as one of their own. If it had been for their own personal gain they would have treated her like one of the droids in the sandcrawler storage unit.

It felt good to reconnect with her culture after traveling through space for so long. Being able to speak her language and be understood made her homesickness subside a little. They offered her water, rations and a blanket while listening when she talked about her tribe, her homeworld and their apparent cultural differences, like adopting a foundling.

After they were done exchanging stories they went straight to business.

“I bring you small starship parts and some tools to trade for the parts I require.”

She took the items she offered and put them on the table in front of her.

“You said you’re looking for a power regulation chamber and a power conversion cone, correct? We can offer both, but the only power cells we have are not made from diatium as the material is rare, even more so on Tatooine.”

“The power cell I need must be made from diatium, I’m afraid. But I’ll gladly take the regulation chamber and conversion cone off your hands.”

They shook hands and the deal was complete. The Jawas took most of the stolen tools and starship parts.

All of a sudden a wild scream came from the upper levels of the sandcrawler.

“My cousin got bitten by Jundland fleas yesterday. The venom makes him hallucinate.” the chief explained. Another scream followed, together with what sounded like scrap metal being thrown around.

“I- I should leave. My companion will be waiting for me by the time I’ll be back.”

That’s when it hit her. She had sent the dewback off. Unless it was still nearby and she was able to find it, she would have to walk all the way back.

Stupid, stupid me!

She offered the remaining starship parts and tools to rent one of the tribe’s speeder bikes, but apparently it wasn’t enough. She wouldn’t be able to bring it back once she was back in Mos Eisley. She knew Mando well enough by now that he would want to leave the planet as soon as his job was done. So there was no deal.

She stepped out of the sandcrawler and took a look around. The dewback was gone.

“Dank farrik!” she cussed. The sandcrawler was slowly beginning to move.

“Dank farrik!” a loud Jawa voice yelled.

Elora noticed a Jawa looking out of an open hatch at the upper levels.

Probably the chief’s sick cousin.

Then all of a sudden he started throwing scrap metal and droid parts at her.

“Hey! Stop it!” she yelled and tried to avoid getting hit with junk. What she didn’t expect was the Jawa taking it one step further. She sensed the mass of the object in the Force milliseconds before it was about to crash on her. She jumped aside and landed in the sand, just like the object the hallucinating Jawa had thrown at her.

The sandcrawler was moving fast enough into the opposite direction now and somebody had pulled the sick tribe member back in, Elora realized with a sigh of relief.

She got up and wiped the sand off her clothing when a troubled whistling sound came from the object in the sand right next to her.

Elora frowned and dug the object out only to find it was a very distraught astromech droid.

“Hey, hold on! Let me pull you out!” Its cone shaped head was still stuck in the sand.

It was heavier than it looked, but Elora was used to getting droids out of unfortunate circumstances.

Bounty hunters and mercenaries who’d gotten killed by the Niktos on Arvala-7 had left enough droids behind in the past couple months.

The droid shuddered at her touch. “I’m not gonna hurt you, I’m pulling in one… two… three!”

She pulled him out using her entire physical strength, then plopped down on the sand, out of breath. In the early light of dawn she could make out the droid’s cone shaped head of worn yellow color.

“You’re an R4 unit! Do you have a restraining bolt?” She got back up and pulled the droid on its wheels. The restraining bolt was adjusted right on its front side.

“I'll remove this, but no funny business, ok.”

The droid beeped in agreement.

She pulled the restraining bolt off and wiped some coarse sand off the R4 unit who told her in droidspeak that he was used to getting called Arfour or, more officially, R4-A1.

“Finders keepers. That’s how the saying goes, right? It’s unfortunate that I happen to travel with a very stubborn person who strongly dislikes droids at the moment. But I’ll find a good home for you, I promise.” She looked to where the twin suns would be rising in about thirty minutes. She had learned very early on how to find her way home by looking at the sun and the stars. Finding back to Mos Eisley wouldn’t be a problem, it would just take much longer than in the saddle of a dewback. At least I’m not all alone. The jittery droid followed her, keeping a little distance. If droids were able to have trust issues, this one sure seemed to have them.

However he ended up here, his story cannot be good.

As the suns rose, the cool night air warmed up unsurprisingly quickly. Around noon Elora noticed she had hardly any water left. She felt as if there were more beads of sweat running down her body than drops of water in her bottle.

Exhaustion gnawed on her bones. Her feet hurt and walking for so long on uneven terrain was taking a toll on her. Arvala-7's rocky surface couldn't have prepared her for the hot and seemingly endless maze of sand that was Tatooine.

A sudden feeling of several hostile presences made itself known in her gut.

She took a look around. Arfour and her were the only beings in this part of the Dune Sea at least that's what she’d thought. A mistake on her behalf.

A wild battle cry sounded from behind her. On the ridge of a dune three beings had appeared, they were wielding strange looking sticks and looked like they were part of the landscape itself. From the stories she’d been told they had to be Tusken Raiders.

“Sorry for trespassing on your land. Really, I mean no harm, I-”

More raiders appeared on the ridges of the surrounding dunes. She was trapped. After taking a deep breath she pulled out her blasters in the matter of a second and began stunning the Tuskens. They were defending their land, killing them would be wrong as they had every right to do what they did. She was the intruder and therefore an enemy in their eyes. Using the Force was too much of a risk as she didn't want to accidentally end the lives of simple people who tried to protect their land.

The Tuskens came running towards her, gaffi sticks ready to strike. She couldn’t react fast enough and stun all of them before they hit her. Before she knew it, one of the sticks struck her hand, knocking the blaster out of it. She clenched her jaw in pain and attempted to smack her other blaster in a Tusken’s face.. But before she could do so she sensed a sudden pain on the back of her skull. Her vision went black and a scream of the R4 unit was the last thing she heard before she lost consciousness.

Shooting that bastard had been the only option. Nobody threatens the kid and lives! It had been a close call. Of course, it hadn’t been the first time somebody had betrayed him. What changed was that he now was responsible for this kid, and Elora as well, at least as long as she was a guest aboard his ship. It was afternoon and Mando waited in the shadow of Peli’s workshop, expecting Elora to show up any moment…

He waited for hours. Meanwhile Peli was spoiling the child, completely enraptured by him. Mando was ok with it, as long as those pit droids stayed far away from the kid.

In the late afternoon Mando commed Elora, wondering where she was. He wanted to get off Tatooine as soon as possible after this mission had gone wrong. Staying in one place too long wasn’t ideal, especially not when you're wanted by the Bounty Hunter Guild and the Empire.

When Elora didn’t answer the comm, Mando became somewhat nervous. He paced around the hangar. Something didn’t feel right.

“You’re making the droids nervous, Mando. What is it? I assume your friend hasn’t returned yet?”

“She doesn’t answer the comm.” He shook his head. “I have a bad feeling about this. Something must have gone wrong. She told me she would call me in case it would take longer.”

“Well, you told me enough about her. What if she just decided to stay with those she regards as her kind?”

Mando considered her words for a moment, but he remembered Elora’s steadfastness and stubborn attitude when it came to finding her relatives. No way she would just leave her dreams and aspirations behind to stay with a tribe of strangers. She wouldn’t leave just like that, especially not without telling him, that was unlike her.

“Dank farrik, I hope these Jawas aren’t holding her captive for being human. I- I promised to take her to a world with a higher population density where she can start the search for her family. I’m bound to keep the promises I make. I need to go find her. Would you mind looking after the kid for a little longer?”

“Go and find your friend, I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Thank you… and she’s not my friend.”

Mando left the hangar and used the speeder which had belonged to Toro Calican to make his way out into the Dune Sea. He needed to find this Jawa tribe despite his disdain towards these creatures. There was a long way ahead of him...

“Wake up. Elora, you must wake up! You're in danger!”

Eventually her vision became less blurry. She looked around what she assumed was a tent. Her body had been tied to a post with a thick rope and her satchel was gone.

“Dank kriffing farrik! Let me go!” she screamed - to no avail.

A sad whistle came from her left. Arfour, who was held in place with another restraining bolt, tried to get her attention.

First thing she felt was a throbbing headache. Her eyelids fluttered open, her surroundings a blur. All she felt was that she wasn’t wearing her face cover anymore and there was something around her wrists. She looked down and noticed a somewhat blurry pair of handcuffs. She tried to reach out though the Force to determine her surroundings, but there was nothing. To her it felt as if something had cut her connection to the Force. The cuffs? And what was that voice she’d heard before she had regained consciousness? It sounded clear and warm, almost inviting. How strange...

“You should be more optimistic. If they’d wanted to kill me, don’t you think they would have already done so? The real question is, why am I still alive? Ugh, I wonder how long I was knocked out.”

Arfour beeped in response.

"32 hours?! You gotta be kidding! I need to get back to Mando!" Her voice was raspy and her throat as dry as the planet itself. She struggled against the thick rope that kept her from moving.

Why couldn't she reach out to the Force? Were it the cuffs? That could only mean one thing: Her captors knew about her Force sensitivity.

Panic rose in her chest. What would the Tuskens do with her?

Her attempt to twist her wrists out of the handcuffs only resulted in raw and partially bloody skin. She hissed in pain.

Damnit, somebody really wants to make sure I can't escape.

It was like her thoughts had betrayed her when she heard footsteps approaching the tent.

Should I pretend I'm still unconscious and defend myself when they least expect it?

Her choice was taken from her when a small figure entered the tent - a Tusken child who held a bowl of water in their hands. They cocked their head when they noticed Elora had woken up, as if they were eyeing her curiously under their face mask.

"I mean no harm, kid." Elora rasped.

They walked up to her warily, eyed her once more before kneeling down in front of her and pressing the bowl of water against her lips.

Elora drank greedily, gulping the water down as if her life depended on it - because it did.

She drank up and let her head fall back against the post in relief. If the Tuskens wanted her dead they wouldn't send one of their children to bring her water.

"Th-thank you."

Outside an adult Tusken yelled, causing the child to avert their gaze from her and run out of the tent, forgetting the now empty bowl.

"What in the name of the Maker was that?"

Arfour whistled and trembled.

"Wow, I've never met a droid with anxiety issues before. Let me guess, you have no idea how we could get out of here either, huh buddy?"

He bleeped sadly.

"I wish I could use my senses. These kriffing… argh… handcuffs." She bit back tears at the pain where the metal met her raw skin. Would Mando become suspicious? Would he come looking for her? Or perhaps he assumed she would stay with her people in the Dune Sea and leave Tatooine without her? More often than not he’d said that he would much rather leave her behind on some asteroid than keep her on his ship any longer. He's probably glad to be rid of me.

Elora waited, but nobody else came looking after her. The water the child had brought her hadn't been enough to quench her thirst, and her stomach was making sounds she’d rather not hear, not to mention the sand that was making her skin itch.

Kriff! I hate this place!

It was dark when Elora opened her eyes. She didn't notice when she'd been drifting off to sleep. Her throbbing headache had gotten worse while she had been out and her neck was stiff from sitting in an unhealthy position for way too long.

She groaned, trying to reach Arfour with her cuffed hands to remove the restraining bolt.

If her arms were only four centimeters longer she would have succeeded.

"Kriffing hell!" she yelled, in the hope somebody would come and tell her why she was here, and why they didn't kill her in the first place. "Need to get back to Mos Eisley..." With each word she struggled against the rope.

Finally she heard footsteps approaching the tent, and by the sound of it, they belonged to an adult.

A dark silhouette pushed the fabric aside and entered the tent.

"What do you want with me? I was on my way to Mos Eisley. Please, I don’t want any trouble."

She expected the grunts of a Tusken Raider, but instead the dark figure responded in a rough human voice.

"Easy there, little one."

"You're human? Who the hell are you?"

"I'm the one asking the questions here."

She noticed he held her satchel in his hand.

"That belongs to me! Give it back or-"

"Or what? I know what you are. The question is what is someone like you doing on Tatooine?"

"You don't know shit about me!" Elora snapped, struggling against her restraints.

He stepped out of the shadows, revealing a scarred face and eyes with a depth unlike she had ever seen. He looked intimidating, but she glared back at him, unfazed.

"If I were you I'd watch that smart mouth of yours."

"Yeah? Well, I don't like people who keep me tied up to a post on this hot dustball of a planet! As soon as I'm out of here I'd watch your back if I were you."

"Careful princess, I don't take kindly to threats."

He had noticed her raspy voice and went to get a canister of water that was hidden in a crate under the cover of several bantha furs.

"Here, drink." he put the canister in her lap.

She grabbed it despite her raw cuffed wrists, gulping the water down. There was nothing more satisfying to her than the cool water running down her dry throat.

"Thank you. Now, how about you untie me?"

"First I demand answers to my questions. I looked inside that satchel of yours and found lightsaber parts. What is a Jetii doing on Tatooine? And why did you dress up as a Jawa?"

"I don't owe you an explanation! The Tuskens kidnapped me and you're in possession of my stuff, which happens to be none of your business, stranger!"

"We can do this the easy way…" he took the gaffi stick he carried on his back and lifted her chin with its tip so she was forced to look him in the eyes. "...or the hard way."

"Untie me and I’ll answer your questions. Bring me some food and I'll answer half of them."

"Do you really think I'm stupid enough to untie a Jedi just so you can Force choke me to death?"

"Force choke?"

The stranger cocked his head. "You don't know what I'm talking about?"

"I'm still learning ok."

The stranger sighed and left the tent, leaving Elora behind, who then, again, tried reaching for Arfours restraining bolt.

"Just a little closer. Are you sure you can't move or lean forward?" The droid let out a sound that resembled a mechanical whine. "C'mon!"

She breathed heavily. Exhausted, she let her arms sink.

"You are a persistent lady, I’ll give you that." The stranger had returned without her realizing.

"You! Don't sneak up on me like that again! Karking cuffs…! Keeping me from feeling my surroundings! How do you live like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like basically being completely blind to your surroundings. You're able to see and hear, yet you can't… feel anything. The world just feels lifeless when you can’t feel the Force. It's like an important part of me is missing."

The stranger considered her answer and held out a bowl to her, which contained dried chunks of meat

"Eat. You'll need your strength on your way back to Mos Eisley."

She looked up at him, slightly confused, while wolfing down the meat, ignoring the few grains of sand it contained.

"You- you let me go?" she asked in between bites.

He shrugged. "You're young. You're nothing like the Jedi back in the days of the Old Republic. There's nothing I can blame you for. Still, I don't like you and you better not cross my path again."

"I don't like you either. Now that we got this straight, how about you untie me? I'm gonna leave this dustball and will not disturb the Tuskens again."

"Don't make me regret this." He pulled a vibroblade out of his robe to cut through the ropes, then removed her Force restraining handcuffs. The feeling of the Force crashed down on her, it was almost overwhelming. She felt like herself again. Like a temporarily blind person being able to see again. The village and its inhabitants, the banthas roaming the southern dunes, tiny lizards searching for food under the cover of night - Elora felt all of it. The desert may looked lifeless, but in fact it was buzzing with life, sentient and non sentient. And then there was the stranger in front of her whose mind felt like an impenetrable wall. She was able to sense his presence in the Force, and that was it. Despite her powers she wasn't able to sense his emotions, or his thoughts. She'd never met someone like him and she wasn't sure if this should scare her.

"Why did you hold me captive anyway? You're letting me go, just like that?" she asked, trying not to let her mixed feelings show.

The stranger nodded. "The Tuskens showed me your satchel. I recognized the lightsaber parts, and I asked the Tuskens to keep you alive. I needed answers. First I thought you would be a Jedi from the Old Republic. When I saw you I changed my mind. Like I said, there's nothing I can blame you for. You're free to leave."

He handed her the satchel.

"You knew that these parts belong to a lightsaber. Now I have questions. Are you a Jedi? Or do you know someone who is?"

He huffed. "Your assumptions are insulting. The Jetiise are my enemies. I just learned a lot about them in order to defeat them."

"Do- do you know where I can find a Jedi?"

The stranger sighed. "Last time I encountered a Jedi was five years ago. I don't wanna talk about this day."

"Why? Did they kick your ass?"

"No. Enough questions. I don't know where to find this Jedi. If he's still alive, I assume you and he are the last remaining Jedi in the Galaxy. Their kind is extinct… Well, almost."

There were so many things she wanted to ask, but the night would soon be over. As much as she wanted to sit by a campfire and ask him all the questions burning on her tongue, she knew she should get going. The unforgiving heat of the suns would make the way back much more arduous. She took her face cover from her satchel and put it back on.

It was time for her and the mysterious stranger to say their goodbyes. Relieved to have gotten away with her life, she left the Tusken village with Arfour on her heels.

I never want to set foot on this planet again.

Mando had his issues with the Jawas. Although the tribe he'd found in the Dune Sea after a long search and asking two Tuskens for directions wasn't the same one who scrapped his beloved Razor Crest , he couldn't help but be completely tense. Neither Elora nor Kuiil were there to help him talk to these people.

His Jawa Trade was limited to a few words. He'd never had any actual business with their kind until Arvala-7, so the need to learn some basics had never arisen. Elora wasn't on the sandcrawler, at least he assumed she wasn't.

When he mentioned her name though, the Jawa he spoke to, who he guessed was their chief, became excited and pointed towards the horizon outside. That could only mean one thing. She'd been there and was on her way back. It shouldn't have taken her so long, so he came to the conclusion that something must have gone wrong.

He promised her a safe passage to a world with a higher population density. There was nothing safe about getting lost in the Dune Sea. He had to find her. Though he hated to admit it to himself, his honor depended on it.

He left the sandcrawler in a haste when a Jawa started yelling what he guessed were expletives at him. The chief had to hold the hysterically screeching tribe member back, and shoved him out of view into a closet.

The chief bowed to apologize for the incident.

Mando sighed at the Jawas' antics. He jumped out of the fortress, watching the sandcrawler disappear behind a large dune. He was all alone again, and at this moment it didn't feel right. Due to his line of work he was used to solitude - and he liked it. But his honor was at stake and his foundling was waiting for him in Mos Eisley.

I never should have let her go alone.

He got back on his speeder bike and was about to rev the engine when suddenly his comlink beeped. His heart skipped a beat.

It has to be her.

He accepted the comm and…

"Mando? Hello, can you hear me?"

He sighed in relief when he heard her thick accent.

"Yes. What happened? Are you alright?"

"Tuskens happened. They let me go. I'm fine. Sorry if I'm late. I know you prefer not staying in one place for too long in our current situation."

"No need to apologize. You sound out of breath. Where are you?"

"Near Mos Eisley. Are you waiting at the hangar?"

"No, actually I went looking for you. Figured something must have gone wrong."

There was a long silence at the other end of the comm. Elora took a deep breath and swallowed down some tears. He cared. Her sworn enemy cared. The only people who would have done the same for her were her family. He cared with no superior motives. She wondered if there were other Mandalorians like him.

"Meet me at the hangar. Let's get off this shithole!"

"The Crest is repaired and refueled. I'll make good on my promise."

His promise… That meant they would go separate paths sooner than expected.

She felt bad for the child. They had built a connection. She was able to understand him in ways Mando couldn't. What would become of him when she wasn't around anymore?

"See you later, Mando." She ended the comm and tried to suppress her emotions.

Arfour whistled sadly at the few sniffles that escaped her.

"I'm fine, really. Just got some grains of sand in my eye, that's all."

The droid didn't believe her, but decided to remain silent on the matter. He was no protocol droid and his ability to comfort his sad new master was very limited. That didn't keep him from moving a bit closer to her, reminding her of his company and that she wasn't alone.

Elora was sleeping on a bench at Peli's hangar when Mando returned. She looked exhausted and he instantly noticed the marks on her wrists.

Peli came out of her workshop, the babbling child in her arms, when her pit droids got all nervous, which was always the case when the Mandalorian was around.

"You're back! Looks like she never got lost out there. She told me about her unfortunate encounter with the sand people."

"I'm sure if the encounter would have been unfortunate, she wouldn't be here with only a few scratches. Did he behave?" Mando took the child from her arms and checked on him.

"Yes, he seems worried about your companion though. When she fell asleep he refused to leave her side at first. I had to bribe him with some dried lizards."

Mando went to Elora's sleeping figure, pushing the droid in his way roughly aside.

Arfour became jittery, yet he reached out to where armor didn't cover Mando's body and sent a strong electric shock through him.

Mando grunted at the pain. In a matter of seconds he raised his blaster at the white and yellow R4 unit.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you!" Peli interrupted. "She brought this droid here and not once has he left her side. Even refused an oil bath."

"I don't care, I don't want it near her!"

Elora woke up slowly when she heard familiar voices. When she saw a blaster pointed at Arfour she jumped up and grabbed Mando's arm tightly.

"Don't you dare!"

"Let go of my arm!" Mando tried to pull his arm out of her tight grip - to no avail.

"Drop the blaster first!"

He sighed and did as she told him. She let go and kicked the blaster away from him.

"Let me explain! This droid needs a good home. I promised to care for him until I found one. In the Dune Sea we looked out for each other. Please. You're gonna drop me off at the next stop anyway, so you don't have to be around him for long."

"I have a strict no droid policy for my ship. Either you travel with me without the droid, or you stay here with him."

Elora huffed. "You're kidding, right?"

Mando stepped closer to her. "Do I look like I am?"

"Hard to tell with that bucket on your head. You told me you want to make good on your promise. Keeping a promise means a lot to you, I figured that out."

They glared at each other until Peli cleared her throat.

"I don't know about your issues with droids, Mando, but I can assure you R4 astromechs are harmless and do a better job than this R5 unit of mine."

"Why don't you keep it then?"

"I'm currently in no need for another droid."

The child reached out with his little hands, wanting to touch the flat top of Arfours cone shaped head.

"I get it, you're all conspiring against me behind my back." he huffed. "If this droid causes any destruction or becomes a threat to the kid I'm gonna-"

"He won't, Mando! You will behave, right?"

Arfour beeped in agreement.

Mando hated the idea of a droid aboard the Razor Crest . To him all droids were soulless tin skeletons. He hated them all, no matter which function they had or how much they spoke like sentient lifeforms.

Calm down, it's just an astromech, no battle droid.

They thanked Peli for the repairs, the babysitting and overall hospitality.

Elora rushed up the hatch, Arfour on her heels. She couldn't wait to get off this planet and hoped she would never have to see it again. It may have been her people's homeworld, but the conditions had been a bit too harsh, even for her.

Her thoughts drifted to the mysterious stranger. She didn't understand how a mind could have such a strong resistance to the Force. Also what he'd told her about the Jedi on Tatooine from all those years ago. If he was still around she was sure she would have sensed it. But the news alone that there was at least one other person out there with the same powers she and the child possessed made her very happy for some reason.

Mando ascended to the cockpit. Again he shoved Arfour out of his way. This time the droid knew better than to electroshock him and remained idly by Elora's side.

Mando chose the next destination on the nav computer.

"You said you remember a city in the clouds. I'm taking you to Bespin. Cloud City has access to intergalactic archives. If you were born there, it's probably documented somewhere."

Elora nodded and watched how the Crest broke out of Tatooine's atmosphere. Billions of stars welcomed them back in space.

So this was it. Her last ride on the old Razor Crest . She'd gotten used to the ancient ship. The thought of wandering around on a foreign planet in a city full of foreign people of strange species scared her. At least Arfour will be by my side. She knew she had to start looking for her relatives, if she had any, somewhere. Searching for her family was what she wanted and there was no going back now. Perhaps she would find a diatium power cell and finally be able to build her lightsaber.

The child sensed her worries and sent reassuring feelings her way she felt coming at her in waves.

If he would only know that our paths will separate soon.

← previous chapter next chapter →

She would miss them both. The child which she had let into her heart, and the Mandalorian who made this journey possible for her. She was grateful for them as they had both taught her so much she would never have learned at home with her tribe. This goodbye would hurt. The trip to Bespin would take almost an entire day. With 22 hours of quality time left to be exact, and she didn't plan on wasting a single minute of it.

#gehat'ik be aliit #din djarin #din djarin x oc #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x oc #boba fett #star wars #sw #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction

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mosshead-lover · 4 years ago

Text

The Snowflake & The Kitten

Shoto x Reader

Summary: It’s your first Christmas with the Icyhot. You know he shows little or no enthusiasm in the holidays. How will it end up after you go against your instincts and decide spend the Eve with him.

A/n: Hey y’all! Hope you had a fabulous Christmas. I wanted to post this in time for Christmas, but my lazy ass was well..busy procrastinating. Any ho, I'm a Lil late, but hope you like the Present :D

It was late evening, and you were strolling through the streets, slower than usual, observing the decorations on the buildings and homes. Christmas sure brightened up your otherwise mundane city. You go back to wondering the same thing that's been in your mind for so long, whether you should get him something and if yes, what should you? It's been almost ten months since you and Shoto started going out. If you had to point out one thing that you not necessarily liked about him(not until recently), it would be how minimal Shoto's reactions or expressions were, almost all the time. It just made it really difficult to gauge his likeness or dislike-ness towards something. It was hardly a problem or something that bothered you until you had to pick a gift for him.

*Buzz Buzz*

You have a new text message.

Jirou: Yo! Coming?

Y/n: Will be there in 5 min.

Jirou always played her gigs to you before she actually performed. This had become a ritual more of. You started walking faster, paying lesser attention to the decorations along the way.

Jirou rocked it, as usual.

"Are you sure you don't want to join?"

You Jirou and few other girls in the class who couldn't go home for the holidays had planned a night out. Jirou still couldn't digest that you were missing it. Her reaction was only normal considering the enthusiasm your boyfriend had towards holidays.

'I want to spend the holidays productively,'

is what he had told the last time holidays came up in one of your conversations.

"Yes." You replied with a hint of uncertainty.

"At least buy a tree and some decorations on the way. Pretty sure he wouldn't have put one up." Jirou sighed.

"You don't know that!" You defended, regretting it a second later.

Jirou shrugged.

Your head was filled with ambiguity. You knew Jirou wasn't the kind who joked around or even talked much. You knew there was weight to whatever she said. You draw the cell phone and type a quick message.

y/n: Hey, I am on the way and stopped by to get a tree. What size do you prefer?

*Buzz Buzz*

Doki: What tree?

You despised Jirou for a second for being so accurate. Was not bothering Shoto with the pressure of celebrating the best gift you could give? You wondered if it was too late to join the other girls.

Doki: Oh, I see. Whatever works for you.

You picked a tree small enough for you to carry and some decorations along with candy canes. You had forgotten about the Christmas present for him until you came across the headband section with cute cat ears. You bought a white one and read one. At the billing counter, you struggled, You still had time to put it all back. Maybe just have dinner and watch a movie like any other weekend and not bother your not-so-festive boyfriend. But, you made up your mind. There was no turning back now.

"Hi, y/n."

Shoto helped you with the shopping bags and the tree. You reluctantly unzipped your bag and took a white sweater out. It matched the one you were wearing. The couple-Christmas-sweaters that you drunk ordered three months ago. Before you could say anything, He checks the time and,

"Hey, the webinar that I was supposed to attend this afternoon? They postponed it to seven. It will take an hour, Hardly, okay? I'm sorry, but I hope you understand."

He rushed through his sentences.

"Oh! This is for me? Thank you"

He grabbed the sweater from your hands, pecked your cheek, and hurried to his room.

You crashed into the couch. He didn't even notice that you were wearing the same sweater. You sulked and buried your face in the couch pillow and let out an inaudible scream. You took a deep breath and reminded yourself why you wanted to do this in the first place. It was your first Christmas together. You had to make it memorable for both of you. Moreover, Shoto never got together with his family to celebrate anything. You couldn't blame him for not getting excited about the festival.

You decided to look at the brighter side of it. You had an hour to make the house Christmas friendly. You went and bought some more lights and bells, set up a tree, put the lights around. You had to go to his room a few times to get the stapler, tape etc., He didn't mind. You had time to modify the cat ears as well. You removed one of the ears and carefully sewed the other color ear to match his hair color. You took one last look at the setup. It wasn't much, but it was a pleasant sight. It was almost ten. He wasn't done yet. You were too hungry to cook, you'd end up eating, and eating without him was the last thing you wanted to do. You decided to stay away from the kitchen. You fired up the TV and started surfing through the channels. Another hour passed. You gave up and went to the kitchen to fix yourself a cup of coffee. You were too sleepy and didn't want to doze off.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, you heard his door open. You set your coffee aside and sat up. He was wearing the sweater. He wore an apologetic face that transformed into a delight when he saw the tree.

"There is .. on your.."

Before you could process what he was implying, he bent down and cleared the foam mustache above your lips with a kiss.

"Coffee? at this hour?"

Shoto spoke up softly as he settled down next to you.

"I had to stay up, so..

”Did you eat?” He sounded tired too.

"No..I.."

He widened his eyes as a mother would, reacting to her kids skipping meals.

'Wait a minute, I am the one who should be mad!' You shouted on the inside.

"That was one heck of a long webinar." You comment, trying to suppress everything that you were feeling.

"I know." He acknowledges and takes you by your arm to make you sit on his lap. You put your legs on either side and sit on him, facing him.

"The fact that you were here, waiting, made it even more difficult for me." he continued as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

The sincerity in his voice was something you could never bypass and stay mad at him even if you wanted to.

"I am sorry."

"You are forgiven," you murmur and begin arranging his bangs. His face was ever charming against the constantly changing TV lights.

You both stayed there for a while, making out. You might have, longer if it wasn't for your grumbling stomach.

"You think that Soba place will still be open?"

You both go out and eat stomach full. Shoto offered to hold your hand on the way back. You were surprised as he never did that before. He always stayed away from PDA.

"It's too cold. I'm just keeping you warm." He justified.

"Besides, this way, there is a higher chance of people noticing that we are twinning."

You felt warmer as his heterochromatic eyes met yours. Your eyes dilated further at the sight of his tender smile. It was almost midnight when you reached home.

"Hey, It's almost Christmas." You squeak. You weren't worried about him being non-festive anymore. He reacts with an equally encouraging smile. As the clock struck twelve, you swing your arms around him and raise your toes, he helps by lifting you a bit, you kiss and wish him a merry Christmas.

"Merry Christmas to you too, y/n" He kisses you back and puts you down, gently.

"Hold on." He said and rushes into his room. He came back with two tiny boxes and placed them under the tree.

"Too Late?" You nod and join him to near the tree.

"Open!" his excitement was palpable. You carefully unwrapped the first box and saw a tiny glass slab covered in transparent resin shaped like a cuboid that was decorated to look like a charm.

On further inspection, you realized what was inside was a slide. You bought it closer to your eyes and tried to make out what was inside.

Shoto handed you a magnifying glass.

"Doki, Is this a ...?"

"Yes." He sounded proud.

"A real ...?"

"Yes."

You were awestruck.

"I didn't know Snowflakes can be preserved like this!"

You finally took your eyes off the charm and looked at him.

"Apparently, we can."He beamed a brighter smile, soaking in every inch of your reaction.

”And this way, an important part of me will always stay close to you."

He meant it. It was obvious from his tone and expression.

The present had exceeded all of your expectations. It was thoughtful, symbolized much more than Christmas. It was perfect. You were left speechless.

Shoto handed you the second box. Your vision blur from teary eyes. You managed to stop the tears and open it. It was a silver snowflake bracelet.

Shoto went on to explain it.

"Since the actual one is quite delicate and I couldn't morph it into a bracelet like I wanted to, I got this too, you know a ..."

You interrupted him the midway with a kiss, followed by another, and another.

He returns all your kisses with equal passion and holds you close.

He reaches out to grab his gift, you push away his hand, and take the present away from the tree. You felt so stupid. You were flustered with embarrassment suddenly.

"Hey, let me see it." He complains.

"No!" You exclaim and hide it behind your back.

"Why not?" He was confused.

"B..B...Because... It’s is not for you!"

"What?" He chuckles.

"Y/n... Are you sheltering someone else here without my knowledge?" He narrowed his eyes to look serious.

"Wh..what...No...I mean.."

Shoto pounced upon you and snatched the gift while you were in a state of confusion. You tried to snatch it back, but it was too late.

"Cat ears?" Shoto turned it back and forth, inspecting the band.

"Looks adorable. Should I put it on?" He asks innocently. You nod, still looking down.

"Like this?" You finally look up, and all your unworthy feeling lifts that just how adorable he looked. He smiles and brings his palms closer to his cheeks, trying to imitate a kitten. You almost had a nose bleed. Your reactions must have been so obvious, for he burst out laughing.

"Here, you try it on."

"No! don't you dare take 'em off!" You warn him.

"There is an extra pair." You beam ear to ear and get the other one. Of course, you had enough time to mend the other set.

After you pet each other, you take a bunch of photos together, you took his solo shots. Near the tree, in the kitchen, in front of the door, in the bedroom. You wanted to take a couple more, but you decided against it, reading the growing annoyance in his face.

Then you both sat by the tree, checking the cards he received. You were honestly a bit shocked to know he never went through them.

"Wow. Isn't this your sister?"

"Yes. and her Boyfriend." he eyes at the photo and gets back to his phone.

"They look so cute together!"

You were a little annoyed he wasn't paying attention to the cards. You snatch the phone to find him looking at the cat-ear pictures of you both.

"I think we look better." He states, unaffected by your barbaric snatching.

”We should use one of these pictures to send out cards”

You ruffle his hair and giggle, not because of the comments he just made. But because he could make such cheesy statements with a straight face.

Suddenly, you couldn't recall why you were worked up the whole day.

”Hey”

Shoto breaks the silence. You were on the couch, sitting between his limbs, as he wrapped his hands around you, warming you up and letting you rest on his chest.

”Um?”

”We should do this every Christmas”

”Do what?”

”You know, the tree, the matching sweaters, the cards...”

You chuckle.

”We will, Doki”

’Oh My baby Kitten, this is how Christmas is supposed to be!’

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