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idontblushsrry · 4 years ago

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Hikaru Hitachiin||SFW Alphabet

A/N: Will this include Hikaru slander? Yes. Hikaru stans come get ur food, enjoy!

Word Count: 2219

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

Hikaru shows affection physically. He’s much too prideful to admit (bar the rare and private confessions of adoration and love) his love for you through words or actions and he prefers to receive instead of give gifts. But a little arm around your shoulder, holding your hand in his pocket, small pecks on the cheek and you more than know how much Hikaru loves you.

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

Hikaru likely becomes best friends with you via pranks. He takes note of you when you catch him trying to mess with Tamaki and give him a few pointers on how to better scare the poor blonde. From there, it’s history.

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

Hikaru loves to cuddle. He becomes especially clingy at night at which point all he wants to do is hold you. When he’s away from you, he still prefers to cuddle with something so he’ll substitute you for a pillow. Not the same but it gets the job done until he can return home to you and get wrapped up in your arms again.

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

Hikaru likes the idea of settling down. He’d definitely want to head to the countryside or somewhere mountainous that’s surrounded by beaches. He likes the thought of you and him being together in your own little pocket of the world. As for cooking and cleaning, he can’t do either and has no interest in doing so, so he’d probably pay a few servants to do the work for him.

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

If Hikaru had to break up with you, it’d likely be the result of both of you needing to part ways so that you can work on yourselves before trying to give the relationship another shot. Hikaru generally acts unaffected (and depending on the length of your relationship, he is) but deep down he resolves to become better for you.

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

He doesn’t really like the idea of marriage because he views it as an expensive mess that ends in an even more expensive divorce. He does like the idea of spending his life with you but if yall ever got married he might just get a pre-nup. Overall though, he’s not really the sort for marriage, the legal part of it especially gives him anxiety, and to be honest, when he knows that he’s committed to you, it just is. Loving and being with you becomes as natural as breathing for him.

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

Hikaru isn’t really gentle at all. Like he definitely tries to be soft and tender with you but also he likes to pinch your butt when you walk past, and really is he so terrible for that? (Kind of, that shit be hurtin mf)

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

Please hug Hikaru, he won’t ask for it or initiate aside from throwing his arm around your waist/shoulder. He craves your hugs and whenever you hug him it’s like the clouds part and a rainbow shines down onto your relationship. Hikaru’s hugs, as a result of his refusal to just ask for a hug, are always a little clingy, desperate to hold you tight to him for as long as possible.

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

One of Hikaru’s biggest regrets is how fast he said ‘I love you’. It was spur of the moment and he didn’t mean it, he just thought he had to say it because you’d both been dating for 3 months and he just straight up didn’t mean it. The look on your face was filled with so much joy that he feels disgusted with himself whenever he thinks back to it. Now every time he says he loves you, he tries his hardest to make sure that you understand just how much he means it. He never wants you to doubt the depth of his devotion for you.

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

He and Kaoru are already getting that gleam in their eye. In all seriousness though, he gets really pouty and everything becomes a competition between him and the person he’s jealous of. It’s like, “Oh, you’re on track to become an olympic class track runner? That’s cool I guess, what’s really impressive is the fact that I’m 5′9″. It’s embarrassing for both of you, and you just apologize for him before walking away, dragging him along with you.

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

Hikaru’s kisses are a lot like him in the sense that they’re exciting with a hint of trouble. Hikaru enjoys flustering you by kissing you in as many public places as passionately as possible before walking off and acting like everything’s all normal. He likes to smirk into kisses and his kisses are so intense that most times they turn into makeout sessions despite neither of you really planning it.

L: Little ones (How are they around children)

Hikaru is kid of awkward around kids. He doesn’t really care too much for them and so whenever they’re around, he tends to just hand them off to the nearest person who cares for children. He genuinely doesn’t know what to do so if he’s left alone with a kid he’ll just kinda stare and ask if they need food or something.

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

Mornings with Hikaru are sweet but stressful. Hikaru has an alarm that plays music and sends confetti instead of a more traditional one, and while Hikaru’s used to the sound of his alarm clock, you aren’t, and sleep right through it. Does Hikaru think ‘oh maybe I should wake Y/N up?’ Nope. He just sits there and stares at you until you naturally wake up on your own. You wake up so peacefully and stare at him until you get a glimpse at the time and start panicking and yelling at him for not waking you up sooner.

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

Nights with Hikaru are the calmest you’ll ever see him. He’s very sleepy and gets 1000% clingier. Whether it’s wrapping his arms and legs around you as he sleeps or you letting him sit on your lap while he applies both your and his face mask, nighttime Hikaru is just a clingy sweetheart trying to make up for a day of him acting like he’s not fully in love with you.

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

Hikaru is a very layered person. Just when you think you’ve discovered something about him, you actually just barely scratched the surface. He tries to be more and more open with you, hiding less from you. But it’s not exactly easy to break his habit of not/fear of being open.

P: Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Hikaru is a little brat, which means if he doesn’t get his way he will resort to mischief and then angry pouting. He gets angry kind of easily but he’s just gotten good at hiding it. Over the course of his relationship with you, he does start to chill out a bit, not getting his way doesn’t bother him as much anymore.

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

Hikaru remembers weird bits of information about you at the strangest and most inopportune moments. Like you’ll be talking to Kyoya while Hikaru is talking with his clients and he’ll just suddenly remember mid-act that you were like school council president at your elementary school or something and completely freeze and break character.

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

His favorite moment in your relationship (although this was technically before the two of you were together) was after the host club’s ball, you walked up to him like “I know the party’s over but may I have this dance.” He accepted of course and you both danced the night away. Just thinking about that day sends butterflies running through his stomach and he swoons for you all over again.

S: Security (How protective are they? How would they like to be protected?)

Hikaru is super protective over you. If he’s out and about with you somewhere and he feels like you’re in danger (not too common but always a risk with him being rich), he’s activating emergency defense protocol procedures. He’s also kinda dramatic about it like if you bump into the edge of the coffee table he’ll laugh at you but then while you aren’t looking, he’s calling to have the whole table removed. Have mercy on whoever decides to bother you though because he and Kaoru are not above jumping.

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

Hikaru puts a lot of effort into your dates, he enjoys the challenge of trying to one up his last attempt as well as trying to surprise you each time. He’s not really the type to give gifts unless they’re in the form of clothes, but he’d much rather get gifts than give them. He does get a little upset if he starts feeling like he’s the only one trying so shake things up by surprising him instead (wipe that all-knowing grin off his face). Despite the fact that he’ll try to act like he doesn’t try that hard, he really does want to impress you and he tries his hardest to do so.

U: Ugly (What are some bad habits of theirs? (I’m gonna add arguments here because they aren’t on the prompt list I found))

A bad habit of Hikaru’s is that he has a tendency to try and pick fights. No matter where this stems from, he tends to try and bait you into fights or disagreements. He doesn’t even realize that he does this until you point it out to him. (Well honestly you pointed it out, then in disbelief he went and asked the host club at which point, they agreed, and he was left in shock at their lack of hesitation).

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

Hikaru, like Tamaki, is obsessed with his looks. He often lies and says that it’s Kaoru who’s obsessed with looks, but Hikaru goes absolutely feral if someone so much as touches any of his beauty products. He honestly doesn’t even want you to touch them unless you’re coming back from buying his stuff at the store.

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

At first, Hikaru kinda treats your relationship with him like an exchange. He’s terrified you’re only interested in him for his looks or his money and so he does everything possible to make you stay because he was scared of what it would be like to be a person without you. He does break out of that dependent mindset eventually though. To be completely honest, you both probably break up because of Hikaru’s dependent tendencies and only get back together once both of you grew without the other for a while.

X: (E)xes (Any previous relationship experience. How does that factor into your current relationship?)

Hikaru has absolutely no relationship experience as he’s spent the last however may years of his life fending off all potential interaction with people who weren’t Kaoru with a stick.

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

Hikaru’s only real turn-offs are people with no sense of style. Of course, it’s not a huge deal breaker but you pretty much have to be ok with being Hikaru’s personal doll. He also really dislikes boring people, like if your life can be summed up in a resume, he’s skipping past you. Another thing that he looks for in his partner is, obviously, the ability to tell the difference between him and his twin. If you can’t do that, he’s already written you off completely.

Z: Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Hikaru sleeps fully and completely in the nude, like no boxers or anything. Initially, it was kind of a joke/ look at me thing but now he can’t help himself. Now, it’s fine between the two of you now, but the first time you spent the night at Hikaru’s house, only to find he’d somehow stripped all the way down in his sleep come morning, was...surprising to say the least. (You couldn’t look him in the eye for almost a month afterwards)

#ohshc x reader #ohshc imagines #ohshc hikaru x reader #hikaru x reader #hikaru hitachiin x reader #ohshc x black reader #black!reader #x black reader #sfw alphabet #idontblushsrry

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octinary · 3 years ago

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Decembert the First - Ice Fishing

Rating: T for Lambert’s dirty mouth

Pairing: Aiden/Lambert

Word Count: 1.3k

CW: falling in cold water (but everyone is fine)

Aiden knew he should leave it alone. Despite his school’s reputation for emotional instability, he was not, in fact, suicidal and the sheer rage boiling off of Lambert was more than enough of a warning to anyone that the wisest course of action was to keep quiet. It roiled off the Wolf and coiled through the air like… well… like the water currently evaporating off of him in puffs of turbid white.

A similar cloud was shivering its way off of Aiden’s soaked skin as they trudged back from the lake to the clearing in which the caravan had made camp for the night. It wasn’t that far of a walk and the average land speed of an angry Lambert was generally pretty quick, even hampered by a foot and a half of snow, so unless they wanted to be the butt of every joke from now until New Year’s they had better come up with a damn good story in the next few minutes.

“Lambert—” Aiden tried.

“Leave it.”

The words were as sharp and short as the icicles forming on his eyelashes, but he didn’t even raise his voice. Too pissed to project—that was a new one.

Aiden tucked his hands into his armpits and tried to stop his jaw from rattling out of its sockets before he tried again. “What’re we gonna—”

“I said, ‘leave it.’”

“We’ll need something to tell—”

Lambert whirled with a soft tinkling of ice cracking off his clothing and froze the Cat with a cold stare. “Aiden!”

Ah. There was the previously missing volume. With all the patient magnanimity of someone who didn’t particularly want to have a knock down row at the moment and really just wanted to get back to a decent fire before his cock literally froze off, Aiden raised his hands in surrender.

Lambert narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but when no further lip was forthcoming, snorted and resumed his march.

With a sigh, Aiden followed. It wasn’t like he didn’t understand why Lambert was so upset. It was their first winter together, Lambert forgoing the frigid mountain valley of Kaer Morhen to bum with the Dyn Marv for the season, and he was desperately trying to make a good impression. Aiden had tried to inform him that that feat was impossible; his brothers were, in his expert estimation, shitheads and would give the Wolf no end of trouble no matter what he did, but that didn’t stop Lambert from trying anyway. So when Gaetan had goaded him, expressing feigned surprise that a northerly Wolf knew less about winter outdoorsmanship that the soft southerly Cats, off Lambert had predictably trekked to prove him wrong.

Ice fishing. Aiden shivered in his damp boots remembering the, in hindsight, suspicious tone with which Lambert had spit the words as Aiden had scrambled to follow him out of the camp. It had sounded easy enough. They had a lake near Kaer Morhen right? And it must freeze over. And Lambert bragged about his fishing all the time. Surely, Aiden had naively thought, he knew what he was doing.

In front of him, the master fisherman sneezed violently, startling a flock of starlings from their roost. Well, now the whole caravan knew they were coming. In T-minus eight seconds, a group of Cats was going to saunter into view and Lambert would just have to take another blow to his pride. Aiden had tried to warn him, tried to help him strategize! The Dyn Marv wasn’t a wolf pack, with some fixed hierarchy where you had to growl and bite your way to the top. It was a murky miasma of ever changing loyalties and scheming. If Lambert wasn’t going to listen, he had no one to blame but himself. His stupid, trying-too-hard, desperate to please, terrified of being rejected or ever found wanted self. Aiden should let him hang.

“Aiden? Lambert? Is that you two back already?” Joël’s voice rang through the trees. “Catch anything?”

Damn it, Aiden couldn’t let him hang. Out of any better options, he gathered his ice encrusted limbs and threw himself bodily at Lambert, tackling the Wolf to the ground.

“Aiden? What the fuck!” Lambert sputtered before the Cat shoveled a fist full of snow right down the front of his shirt. “You motherfucker!” Never one to not give as good as he got, by the time Joël and Axel found them, Lambert was straddling Aiden’s chest making a decent attempt at force feeding him a snowball.

Axel’s laughter distracted him enough for Aiden to buck him off though. “You both look frozen! Have you two just been wrestling like children in the snow this whole time? Did you even make it to the lake?”

Lambert, panting with exertion and possibly early onset hypothermia, just stared open mouthed at the two new Cats, but Aiden spit out a mouthful of dirty snow and quipped, “Do you see any fish?”

“I knew it!” Joël smirked and shook his head, offering Lambert a hand up. “You can’t take Aiden anywhere. He’s got the attention span of a kitten! He’ll get you into nothing but trouble, that one”

“You’re just lucky we don’t need those fish for dinner! Cedric sto—uh—found a goat. We’re making curry.” Axel, who was rapidly becoming Aiden’s favourite person in existence, passed him a flask of white gull and helped him get the worst of the snow out of his hair. The liquid burned like false fire in his throat and smouldered somewhere just south of his breast bone, giving him an artificial sense of warmth that would keep him going until he got to a real one.

“C’mon,” Joël said, patting Lambert vigorously on the back. “Let’s get you two back before you turn into snowmen.”

Fifteen minutes and one change of clothes later, Aiden was happily snuggled under a thick blanket in front of a roaring fire, sipping on spiked apple cider and luxuriating in the spicy smell of simmering goat. He was taking some minor flak for being a flake and failing to produce any fish, but it wasn’t like his goofing off was a new thing, so most of his brothers lost interest in razzing him quickly. Once Lambert arrived and snuck under the blanket beside him, it was as close to heaven as Aiden figured witchers could get.

“Mmm.” He snuggled up to the Wolf, letting his head fall onto Lambert’s shoulder. A second later, he felt Lambert’s arm slip around his waist, pulling him closer, and he grinned to himself. “Anger melted away then?”

Lambert snorted, but otherwise didn’t respond. Just when Aiden thought that was going to be the end of it, he heard, muttered softly and sullenly into his still damp curls, “I’m not thanking you for that.”

A ridiculously bright feeling, not entirely unlike the burn of the white gull, blossomed in Aiden’s chest and warmed him inside and out. It was a relatively new thing that had been happening around Lambert more and more lately, and while Aiden wasn’t entirely sure what it was, he did know he wanted more of it. Maybe he was a little suicidal after all, to throw himself so whole heartedly and carelessly at that enigmatic conflagration, but damn if it didn’t beat freezing alone.

He sighed in utter contentment, wriggling around so he could whisper the least conventional sweet nothing ever softly into Lambert’s ear. “Will you at least admit that the bombs were a bad idea?”

#31 days of decembert #lambert #aiden #ice fishing #the witcher #fan fic

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jamestrmtx · 4 years ago

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Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Summary:

The dichotomy between black and white is your constant when it's time for you to meet the whole new civilization Frisk brought along with them to the Surface. As a parent, it's not easy to trust others when they've hurt your child. So when that new civilization decides they owe Frisk both for saving their kind and for still hurting them during that process, you've got plenty to say to them.

Forgive the monsters as easily as you once did with others during a stage of naivety?

Oh, hell no.

They better have a good reason for hurting your child and an even better one for wanting to be a part of their family.

Prologue | Once Upon a Time

[Next]

Finished with a hectic work day, you throw yourself on the couch and beg for it not to give in when you hear it creak. Just as the rest of your home, it's old, worn, and needs replacing. You let out a sigh and bask under what little calm you can find between the worries of a dead-end job and your child recently going missing.

Many accused the disappearance on your lack of care and overall irresponsibility as their parent, while others blamed it on the myth of monsters existing near the place you suspected they last went to. The first of these assumptions you accepted and blamed yourself constantly for, yet the second of the two was near impossible to even be an option to begin with. Monsters were far away from your village; they were told to be sealed inside the Underground close to Mt. Ebott, and nobody had heard of them in centuries. It was highly unlikely for them to exist there and much less on the Surface, yet there were still some who believed in that myth nonetheless.

Alone in your home, you can only stare at the blank wall before you and think back on the last day you saw Frisk.

...

"I'm home!" you hear them call, followed by their footsteps thumping against the floorboards.

They make it to the kitchen and throw themselves at you; their arms wrap around your neck and pull you into a hug. Smiling, you return the embrace, pull back to look down, and meet with their eyes. "Did you say goodbye to Auntie Brenda before leaving?" you ask, tucking a stray lock of hair behind their ear. Their bob and bangs had grown longer and many neighbours said it made them look like a girl, but Frisk never minded over those comments and always insisted on keeping their hair that way.

"Yup!" they reply, taking a seat next to yours. "We're… We're gonna spend the whole weekend together, right?"

"Of course we are, honey." You chuckle upon seeing the worry in their eyes, these holding hope over a positive response on your part. "But first, we've got to study up on History," you add, "Remember you've got a test the day after tomorrow." You pinch their cheek and kiss it better, making them grin and burst into giggles.

Then, you stand up and head to the living room, where you stop by the bookshelf already covered in a thin layer of dust despite its frequent use. Your eyes scan for the book you'd been recently reading with them, only to find it hidden at a corner, most likely an idea on their part in hopes of delaying their studies for a while. "We'll go over the last chapter. And after that, we can plan what we'll do for the weekend." You turn to them and smile, bumping the book against the top of their head. "But only if you don't try to hide your books away anymore. I know you like school and pay attention all the time, but that still doesn't excuse you from studying up at home."

You walk to the couch, sit down, and see their smile fade away when you open the book to one of its later chapters. It was far away from the one you were currently on, yet based on the look on their face, they seem to know what it's about, an assumption that grows stronger when you remember how one-sided the book in your hands is. Frisk was never fond of the stories it told, yet they never had the courage to go against its written words, either. Now, however, you have a hunch over them about to confront that when you see them frown and later open their mouth to speak up.

"Why do you believe what this book says? It… It says mean things about monsters! Haven't you ever been curious to know what they're all really like?"

You look down at the open book and give some thought to their words. Its borders are worn out and the pages are turning a soft shade of yellow, most likely due to the centuries that'd gone by since it was first published. 'The War Between Us' was its title, yet even though it said 'us', the author was biased at times; in more ways than one. It seemed that the more you analyzed it, the more you regretted having believed these stories when you were younger and having thrashed the possibility of beings like them ever existing. The question you've been given adds to your regret, so you pause and take a quick moment to reconsider.

Deciding it's best to think of a proper response, you flip the pages back to the first chapter and gesture for Frisk to join you. You push your glasses up to the brim of your nose and begin to read the first page.

>> Long ago, two races ruled over the Earth: HUMANS and MONSTERS. One day, war broke out between the two races. After a long battle, the humans were victorious. They sealed the monsters underground with a magic spell...

You flip past the introduction page, having already memorized it ever since you were seven.

>> Those undergrounds, located near Mt. Ebott, are said to be a dangerous place. It is said that those who climb the mountain never return. Many have taken this warning as a joke, yet none have actually dared to step foot on those grounds. Due to this fear of the unknown, many began to form theories as to what happens to those who travel to those lands. These have varied from such a simple thing as being unable or unwilling to leave, to something as dark and fearsome as death.

>> It is said the monsters residing in this place were not only strange in appearance, but in their actions and customs, as well. Likewise, it is said their way of reproduction is also odd, as it is through their SOULS that they may create another life, and that the way of ending their lives is through the same means. Besides showing their vulnerability through their SOULS, they show it through their words. They advise others to show 'MERCY', as well as to 'SPARE' their enemies whenever possible.

>> However, many experts on the topic have agreed these are only myths; bedtime stories meant to dull and straighten up a child's behaviour, to frighten them over what is black and what is white, and to keep them strictly in the latter. It is impossible to believe such narrow-minded and saint-like creatures ever existed, unless it is to dumb down our mindsets and persuade us to be kind to a fault, without ever even questioning why it is said that those who fell into their world never came back. After all, it is without a doubt unrealistic and near impossible for people to cohabit in one same world without causing some form of hurt between each other. It is the same reason why these creatures were said to lose a war with our kind, and why we must avoid being weak and preachy like them; to prevent the same from ever happening to us.

You close the book with one swift move, deciding you already have the answer to your child's question.

"Y'know, I… I guess you're right, honey." You sigh, face your lap, and close your eyes, already having a taboo thought at the tip of your tongue. "I've only ever read this book regarding their history. If only I knew more about them, or maybe had another book from a new, different perspective... Then, maybe... Maybe I could know if both sides had their reasons for war, and why we still study them through this book only."

Just as they're about to reply, an unintelligible shout erupts from one of the nearby houses. The sound of porcelain hitting the ground and of people arguing with one another can be heard, and soon after, an eerie, yet recognizable silence takes over. Already expecting the worst, you let out a shaky sigh, stand up, and finally gather up courage to inspect what's going on outside the safety of your home.

"Stay here, Frisk. I'll be back soon."

…

You never saw them again after that day, and that was almost a full month ago. Your eyes have turned irredeemably red and puffy from how much you've cried and mourned over their loss, though you've tried to keep it to yourself as much as possible. Even so, a few things had been leaked regarding your situation. Nosy and loud neighbours meant trouble, and you already had enough with Social Services and Frisk's school constantly breathing down your neck.

The more days passed since their disappearance, the more rumours began to revolve around you. A silent argument over the hints left behind of Frisk going missing had begun to form, and it shows itself through the tense state of those around you, these split into two groups. Tension's risen between those who blame you and those who blame Mt. Ebott, yet you don't want to favour either side. Simply solving the situation and having Frisk in your arms again was enough for you, even if they were taken away from you by Social Services the day or even the hour after.

Hearing your stomach growl, you shake your head, finally realizing you're becoming too immersed in your own thoughts.

Dinner wouldn't make itself, and though you hated cooking only for yourself almost as much as you loathed the absence of your child and the silence of your home, you have to stand up, dust off, and keep on going.

Fairy tales weren't real; monsters weren't, either. In other words, Frisk's all alone in the world now and nobody's gonna help besides you. Whatever happened to your child, they were most likely suffering or in great danger, and for once, you can't help but wish over the Underground to be real in spite of the myths told about it. Perhaps then, you could have some sense of direction and an idea over just where Frisk could be; and perhaps then, they wouldn't be alone at the knowledge of monsters providing them with shelter and company until your arrival.

Perhaps then, you could rest a bit easy without crying yourself to sleep every weekend with the reminder and the remnants of a broken promise, one you feared would never be fulfilled.

[Next]

#sans x reader #undertale x reader #lgbt #lgbt themes #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mother reader #father reader #parent reader #chubby reader #long fic #romcom #adventure #mystery #platonic relationships #slow burn

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featherymalignancy · 4 years ago

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This is totally up to you if you want to answer this ask: What were Nesta's parents like? Their names, personalities, jobs, where they came from etc. Also curious about Nesta's aunt and uncle too :)

Okay, I SWEAR, I was gonna try and keep this brief. I literally whisper-screamed said to myself, “Keep it brief, Cara.”

Nesta, Elain, and Feyre’s Parents: Tim and Ines (neé Afonso) Archeron. Tim was a third-generation native Californian, Ines was, as we know, from Portugal 🇵🇹

Archeron Grandparents:

Tim’s dad Rick was an attorney (and an antisemtic prick, see Nesta’s mention of him in Fucking Lawyers for an example).

His mom Marie was a housewife.

Rick was a functional alcoholic “big drinker” and died when Nesta was 14, Marie died while she was in college.

Afonso Grandparents:

Ines’s father Sebastião was a professor of Antiquities at The Univeristy of Coimbra

Her mother Heloísa worked in her father’s butcher shop until she had Ines (she a dope cook, y’all).

Sebastião died two years before In Vino Veritas starts. Heloísa is the only of the four grandparents still alive.

(SIDENOTE: can we fucking TALK about what she’s gonna say when she meets tall dark and gorgeous Portuguese-speaking wine expert Cassian??)

Heloísa: *in Portuguese* Amorzinho, why have you not married this man yet?

Nesta: Avó, stop!

Heloísa: *still in Portuguese and well within earshot of Cash* If I was forty years younger I would marry him myself!

Tim & Ines (background):

They were both lawyers, they met in law school at Stanford (high achieving runs in the family).

Tim was worked as an M&A (mergers and acquisitions) attorney (can be boring shit but a lotta moneyyy). Ines was a special prosecutor trying drug companies for malpractice and fraud (social justice warrior FTW)

They both worked a LOT, especially when the girls were really little, so the girls were raised by a nanny named Benigna (Beni). Ines had insisted on a nanny who spoke Portuguese, and Beni was from Brazil.

Beni got unexpectedly sick when Nesta was 10, and she died after a too-brief battle with breast cancer.

It was Nesta’s first real experience with loss and she was inconsolably heartbroken, making Tim and Ines realize that they’d allowed their children to be almost completely raised by someone else, and that the girls had basically just suffered the loss of a parent.

At that point Ines decided to cut back to working half time to spend time with the girls, who were 10, 6, and 4.

Between losing Beni and her parents having been gone so much when she was little, Nesta was incredibly anxious to please her parents and make them proud. She was involved in a lot of activities and was very hard on herself, especially for a child. She was serious and dedicated, and though Ines tried to calm the best of Nesta’s outward fretting, she didn’t know how to cope with the more deeply-routed issues of Nesta’s compulsion to be the best. Instead she wrote it off as Nesta being incredibly bright and kept signing Nesta up for activities and paying for any private lessons, competitions, workshops etc. that Nesta expressed interest in. (Look, Nesta had to have something to tell her therapist about)

Starting the year Beni died, they began to take trips to Portugal every summer to see Nesta’s avô and avozinha.

before that, they’d only gone a handful of times, and Sebastiâo and Heloísa were thrilled.

Tim wasn’t close to his parents because of his dad was verbally abusive and his mother was permissive and enabling, so Nesta and the girls were much closer to her avô and avozinha.

Her grandfather spoke English but her grandmother didn’t really, so they spoke almost exclusively Portuguese when they were there (Tim was just sorta...j chilling with his incredibly mediocre Portuguese—he only usually stayed a week anyways, and he worked the whole time).

At home they spoke a mixture, Ines often spoke to the girls in Portuguese and they replied in English unless she insisted otherwise.

Family Ties...

Tim’s closest friend from law school (and the best man at his f*cking wedding) was Beron Vanserra.

Ines was not really a fan but she just sort of tolerated Beron for Tim’s sake, and Beron was clever enough to mostly behave when she was around, though he was definitely the friend who was always trying to coax Tim on a coke-filled bender to Vegas every time her back was turned

Whereas Tim and Ines had children later in life (Ines had Nesta at 35, Elain at 39, and Feyre at 41), Beron married his college sweetheart right out of law school, popped out two boys—August and Adrian—and fucked off for a younger wife. They got divorced without kids after like...a year

His third wife, Flavia, became good friends with Ines. She had her first boy, Eris, three years before Ines had Nesta. They were both pregnant around the same time with their seconds, Lucien and Elain.

The two couples were close and they took vacations together etc. AKA...the kids played together a lot as kids.

Tween/teen Nesta had an ENORMOUS crush on Eris. A senior in HS when she was a freshman, he...did not give a shit. When they ran into each other three years later (Nesta: 18 and two years into raising her two tween sisters and Eris: 21 and a swaggering senior prick at USC) and he hit on her that she was decided she hated him, lol

When Nesta was 14 (Eris: 17, Elain/Lucien: 10, Feyre: 8), it came out that Flavia had been having a longgggg term on-again, off-again affair with her college sweetheart. Screaming matches and paternity tests ensued...and it came out that Lucien was not Beron’s

Ines supported Flavia when Beron filed for divorce and came after Flavia with a VENGEANCE. Ines got Flavia a sick-ass divorce attorney, and sis cleaned up in the divorce 🧹 🧼 🧽 💵 . She and Beron had a very strained custody agreement, where Lucien mostly lived with his mom and saw his “dad” (Beron) only occasionally. Eris, who was about to go to college and was mad at his mom for this embarrassing secret, lived with Beron.

Tim, put off by how Beron handled Lucien’s paternity, distanced himself from Beron, and they were never close after that.

When Tim and Ines died, Flavia was one of the people who stepped up the most to help. Nesta was fiercely independent about the whole thing, but Flavia did babysit for Nesta when she had her own activities, and sometimes she would fill the Archeron fridge with groceries or do the mountain of laundry or take the younger girls back-to-school clothes shopping. Still, she was quiet about it knowing that Nesta considered herself a failure for any little thing she couldn’t do for her sisters.

Tim and Ines (personalities):

Tim

Tim was easy-going and fairly mild.

Of the three girls, Elain is most like him in temperament.

Like his dad, Tim was a total workaholic. He loved his daughters a lot, always bragging about them to colleagues and friends, but he wasn’t really around enough to really show them.

As a result, his main role as a parent was spoiling them with things.

Tim’s dad had been the diciplinarian, so Tim hated “being the bad guy” and was thus incredibly permissive. On the rare occasions that he was in charge of the girls alone for a weekend, there were...literally no rules.

Had he been alive, Tim would have strongly encouraged Nesta’s decision to pursue law school. He likely would have been more skeptical of Feyre’s choice to pursue fine art.

Ines

Ines was more type-A in her personality

Of the three, Nesta is most like her

As the daughter of a classics professor, she had a great love of classical art and music. She would have been pleased that Elain planned to be an academic like her Avô. She also highly encouraged Nesta’s pursuit of opera even though HS Nesta secretly would have rather done musical theatr (like literally any other teenager?)

Ines had been very close to her parents growing up and had planned to return to Portugal when she graduated law school; even though she loved Tim, she was sad when that didn’t happen

She was very nurturing with her girls, but less tolerant of them acting out. Appearances were important to her, and she expected her girls to be well-behaved.

Nesta, always desperate to please, was praised by every adult who ever met her for being perfectly well-behaved

Elain, easy-going and somewhat shy, was quiet and complaint by nature. She never caused problems and rarely even cried

Feyre, a fiercely independent spirit from day one, did not give a FUCK about making a scene if the need arose. Oh, it’s Christmas and Mamã bought Feyre a pretty dress to wear in the Christmas photos? Who cares; not Feyre! She wants to wear her Jasmine costume from Halloween, and if Mamã says she can’t, Feyre is PERFECTLY happy to make a good huge scene in the middle of the bougee photography studio...

OKAY FUCK THIS IS WAY TOO LONG BUT REAL QUICK THE AUNT AND UNCLE

Ines was an only child, Tim just had the one younger brother named Mike. Mike was the “disappointment” according to Rick, because he chose to major in communications and had no interest in law school.

Mike is incredibly unassuming and lived in Tim’s popular, affable shadow. Not lame but definitely unremarkable

The Archerons grew up in the affluent Beach town of Santa Barbara, but Mike was so vexed by his parents he move 385 miles away to Sacramento (if you know California, WEIRD flex on Sacramento of all places, but you do you Mikey)

He married a very sweet middle class girl named Linda and got a job in Insurance

They never had kids of their own, and though he and Tim were friendly, they didn’t really get together much because they just had vastly different lives/lifestyles

Mike and Linda were shocked and sort of bewildered when Tim and Ines died and they were awarded custody of the girls (literally do you not really know what it is to agree to be someone’s legal guardian, Michael ???) and they sort of started haphazardly making plans to move the girls up to Sacramento, even though every time Nesta called they weren’t much farther on arrangements.

Elain and Feyre FREAKED out when they were told they’d be leaving home and their friends and moving to Sacramento with Uncle Mike and Aunt Linda (10 yo Feyre: I HATE Sacramento, it’s a shithole!) and when Mike and Linda still didn’t really have any helpful insights on schools, etc (the Archeron girls all attended private school) Nesta decided the move made no sense.

She basically announced that they weren’t gonna move and that she was just going to handle the girls. Mike and LInda sort of (vaguely) protested before being like “yeah you right, we suck at this”. They still controlled Tim and Ines’s estate and helped Nesta deal with all that, but she took it over the MINUTE she turned 18 and they didn’t really have any part after that besides sheepishly calling like “so...hows everything going? Are you liking school okay?” 🤦‍♀️

Nesta tried to make an effort to be closer with them when they were all younger but like...as adults the Archeron girls have sort of tacitly agreed that Mike and Linda are sweet and they’re family but like...they aren’t that much fun to be around. They’d much rather go to sushi and get drunk on Christmas Eve rather than go to Sacramento and force polite conversation with their aunt and uncle

Okay so yeah! There is a far too detailed thing about her parents, hope you enjoy!

#fanfic friday #feathery answers #In Vino Veritas background info #Archeron parents #Archeron Family History #feathery researches #research #Archeron Sisters #In Vino Veritas

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damiensdemon · 4 years ago

Text

The Perfect Patient

Words: 4.8k

Summary: One-shot first-person drabble about having an unfortunate dental-fetish and a hot dentist.

"As his gloves fingers brush your jaw to keep it open properly, you find yourself wishing that you did have dentophobia. In reality, fear had almost nothing to do with the pounding of your heart. Rather, you’ve been avoiding this appointment because of your attraction to it."

Warnings: Smut, Dental Kink, Praise Kink, Horny Dentistry, Light Bondage, Light Bloodplay, Tooth Extraction, Needles, Transmasc Protag

The longer you put off something important, the harder it is to get it done. Like weeding a garden or telling a secret, sometimes the mental emphasis you put on a task can make it infinitely harder, as it gets more time to grow roots in your mind.

In your case, you haven’t been to the dentist’s office in many, many years. Currently, you’re sitting in the waiting room of a local office, waiting to be called back. The cozy clinic isn’t nearly as sterile-feeling as you remember your childhood office being, but that doesn’t do much to soothe your nerves.

The door across the room from you opens, and you jump at the sound. Luckily for you, the soft-faced young man who steps out is too engrossed in his clipboard to notice your fear. His brown eyes flick up to yours, and he smiles as he calls your name, “We’re ready for you, if you wanna head back.”

“Y-yes, thank you…” You mumble as politely as you can, quickly collecting your things and following him into the office.

His cheery grin persists as he shuts the door behind you, then leads you off down a hallway. After a couple of turns, he stops in front of a strange looking machine mounted to the wall.

“How are you feeling today?” He asks pleasantly, double-checking his clipboard as he begins messing with something behind a little divider in the room.

“Fine! A little nervous... Um… How are you?” You ask, sliding your thumbs under the straps of your backpack. Nervous tick.

“Pretty swell.” He grins, then motions to the chair under the arm of the machine. “My name is Jamie, and I’m the hygienist on duty today. Since you haven’t been seen for a while, we’re gonna take a quick x-ray. This is just gonna take a second, if you don’t mind taking a seat for me.”

“O-oh, of course.” You sit down in the chair, holding your spine stiffly. Jamie steps around you, then slides a heavy, weighted bib over your head. The weight is oddly comforting as it settles against your shoulders.

He walks you through the steps of the x-ray patiently, and while Jamie keeps up an easy chatter. Despite his best efforts, you can’t help but get more and more anxious as the appointment goes on.

After he takes the bitewing out of your mouth and lifts the weighted vest off of you, you finally ask him something that you'd wanted to since you first realized you needed an appointment. “What’s the dentist like?”

“Doctor Langford? He’s a sweetheart. Nothing to be afraid of.” He shrugs, waiting for you to put your backpack back on before motioning for you to follow him. As you walk, he adds, “All his patients seem to love him, as long as he’s sitting down.”

You give Jamie a confused look. He catches it, then explains, “Oh. He’s really tall. He’s kinda got, uh, gentle-giant vibes, y’know?”

“Ooh, I see.” You mumble, letting yourself wander along behind him toward a dental treatment room. Your friend, who’d recommended you to Dr. Langford, had expressed the same sentiment. Though, they'd described him as 'dark and handsome' in addition to 'tall'.

As you turn into a small room with dark blue walls, Jamie goes on. “His daughter thinks he’s the best. She’s so little compared to him. And, I mean, compared to his ex-wife, I can see why she chose him over her. I have no idea why he’s still single, or why he was even with that woman in the first-... um…” He caught himself, clearing his throat abruptly. “...Yeah. Anyways. Take a seat whenever.”

Jamie nodded toward the chair in the middle of the room, with a dental engine built into one of the armrests. The metal tray beside it contained a few tools that you weren’t quite familiar with, but just the sight of them made you feel…

“So, I’m gonna clean your teeth, and the doctor will be in to check you out as soon as I’m done. Do you want mint or bubblegum flavored toothpaste?”

Stiffly, you force yourself to settle back into the chair. “... Bubblegum, please.”

“Cool.” He said, pulling his medical mask over his nose and putting on a fresh pair of gloves. You have to turn away as he gets prepped, to keep the butterflies in your stomach from crawling their way up your throat.

“... Man, you got it bad, huh?” He asks with an unmistakable glint in his eyes.

“H-- Ghk… What?” You splutter, face flushing instantly.

“You’ve got like, dentophobia right? A fear of dental-stuff?”

You nod a little too quickly. “Yeah! I totally do. I'm super freaked out by all the, uh, mouth stuff. Maybe we should just skip the cleaning."

"I mean, we could, but the dentist is still gonna need to look in your mouth. And, uh… It won't hurt or anything, I promise."

"I'm not really worried about pain." You say with a nervous laugh, pulling on the strings of your hoodie.

Jamie scoots his stool up next to your seat, then puts his hand on your arm. He squeezes gently, waiting for you to relax.

"... Okay. Let's get this over with." You sigh, twisting the strings around your fingers in a self-soothing gesture.

He pats your arm happily, then picks up the brush connected to the chair. "You're a brave man, my dude. Okay, I'll be quick and gentle, promise."

You give a little nod and open your mouth for him. Jamie shifts into a more professional façade as he turns the brush on and begins cleaning your teeth.

Unsurprisingly, the effect on you is immediate. You have to drop the strings as your hands begin to shiver. Instead, you grip the armrests tightly. As your face burns hot once more, you steal a glance at the young man next to you. Jamie is, respectfully, keeping his eyes focused on your mouth, rather than your uncomfortable expression. … You have to keep yourself from thinking about that too much.

As his gloves fingers brush your jaw to keep it open properly, you find yourself wishing that you did have dentophobia. In reality, fear had almost nothing to do with the pounding of your heart. Rather, you’ve been avoiding this appointment because of your attraction to it.

“... Alright, we’re done with the cleaning! Want some water?” Jamie chirps, setting down the electric brush and offering you a small cup. You nod gratefully, taking a sip and swishing for a moment before spitting into the little sink he’d pushed closer to you.

“Is that it, then?” You ask hesitantly.

“Not quite. I’ve gotta floss ya, and check for any left-over nasties.” He says, swapping to a fresh pair of gloves. Idly, your eyes flick to the tray beside your chair. A container of floss sits innocuously beside an array of sharp implements. Jamie laughs quietly, “Uh, don’t worry. Those won’t hurt, either. Unless… you haven’t been flossing.”

Shamefully, you shake your head.

“Gotta get on that shit. Can’t have you getting gum disease. Then you’ll have to come here more often.” He teased, scooting up closer. “Alright, sit back, let’s do this.”

Somehow, you kept your cool through the remainder of the cleaning. By the time your gums had stopped bleeding, Jamie had already cleaned you up and left to fetch the dentist.

Your anxiety barely has time to spike before an absolute mountain of a human being enters the room. He has to duck his head to avoid bumping his head on the door frame. Despite the warm smile on his face as he approaches you, his intimidation factor is massive.

“Good afternoon, sir. I’m Doctor Langford, but you can call me Gabriel.” He says, extending a hand to you.

With your heart in your throat, you reach out to shake it. God, his hand is huge compared to yours. Shakily, you introduce yourself, and can only pray that you don’t sound as terrified as you feel.

“Pleasure to meet you. Now, I wanted to talk to you about your x-ray…” He says, folding himself into the chair Jamie had left beside you. He holds up a sheet of film, and points to a place behind your molars. “Your wisdom teeth are beginning to come in. As one would expect of a young man of your age... Now, I can’t remove those today, but you can schedule an appointment for that later.”

You nod along, but can’t really focus on what he’s telling you. Gabriel speaks with a soothing, deep tone, and a slight accent that you can’t quite place. … Australian, perhaps?

"Alright, I'll just do a quick examination of your teeth, and then we can get you out of here." He says with a smile, turning around to grab a fresh pair of gloves.

You swallow hard, watching him pull his latex gloves into place with a snap. No wedding ring, your stupid-awful-monkey-brain whispers. You tell it, politely, to sit the fuck back.

"Can you open for me?" Gabriel asks gently. Almost embarrassingly quickly, you part your lips and let him look into your mouth.

Even with a mask covering half of his face, you remain very aware of how close he is to you. You can feel his presence looming over you as he adjusts a light to see inside your oral cavity.

He watches you with sharp, attentive eyes. Softly, he hums, then picks up a small mouth mirror and slides it into your mouth.

"Ah, excuse me…" He mutters, lifting his hand and touching your molar with his--

An embarrassing squeak leaves your throat, and he immediately retracts. If he registered the true nature of that noise, he doesn't make it obvious. "Oh. Pardon me. Are you alright?"

Your heart hammers in your ears as you nod. "I-I'm fine! I just, got overwhelmed."

"Ah, I see." He replies, taking off his gloves casually. "Your teeth look quite healthy, but you do have a small cavity in one of your molars."

"... What?" You mumble numbly. Oh fuck, oh shit--

"If you have an extra hour, we can fill that today. Does that sound alright with you?” His tone borders on velvety. Is he doing that on purpose? … No, of course not. He's a dentist, this is his job.

He remains silent and attentive, waiting for you to reply. You nod quickly, snapping yourself out of your thoughts. “... Oh. Yes! Of course, let’s… do that. Get it out of the way. Haha.”

“Wonderful. Jamie will get everything prepared for us, and I’ll be back shortly. Hold tight.” He says, rising to his feet and giving you an approving nod as he exits the room.

Shit. Goddamn it. He knows, he has to.

No sooner has that thought passed through your mind before Jamie pokes his head back in. The smug grin on his face tells you that he has instantly read you for filth.

“Shut up.” You bury your face in your hands, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

The hygienist has to duck back out of the room to laugh, then enters and shuts the door behind him. “So… Anything you wanna share with me, young man?”

Laughing gas, as you’ve discovered, has a strange smell. It’s vaguely sweet, like Jamie had told you, but there’s also a distinctive metallic scent, and perhaps a hint of rubber. Though, maybe that’s the mask strapped over your nose.

“Is it kicking in yet?” He asks, setting something down on the tray out of your line of sight.

“I’m not sure. Maybe?” You say, leaning your head back against the headrest. “I feel… comfortable, I guess. As comfortable as I can right now, at least.”

“That’s good. It shouldn’t take much longer.” He assures you, then glances back at the door. “Just, uh, try not to flirt with Doctor Langford too much when he comes in here, okay?”

“I’m not planning on it.” You say, rolling your eyes. “I don’t want my new dentist to ban me. I’d like to come back for checkups later.”

Jamie rubs the back of his neck, “It's not that he'd be uncomfortable, I think… But, the poor guy gets flustered real easy, and--"

Behind him, the door opens and shuts effectively ending the conversation. You can’t turn your head much, but you can hear Jamie and Doctor Langford having a quiet conversation about your procedure. With a nod, and a "Be good!", Jamie takes a clipboard from Gabriel’s hands and walks out the door. Just like that, you’re alone with the dentist once more.

The stool beside you creaks as Gabriel gracefully lowers onto it. He addresses you gently, “As Jamie already explained, this is going to be quick and simple. After the local anesthetic kicks in, you may feel pressure, but you won’t feel any pain."

He leans forward slightly, catching your gaze. "... Jamie mentioned to me that you’ve been feeling some anxiety about your visit today, is that correct?”

You suck in a deep breath through your nose, and in an instant, a wave of something hits you. It isn’t quite the same sensation as you being high, really, this is more of an out-of-body experience.

Why were you even feeling anxious, anyway? “I was. But, I’m feeling much better now.” You reply, shrugging.

“Oh?" He tilts his head. The picture of innocent curiosity. "May I ask what helped you relax? Beside the nitrous oxide, of course.”

You rack your brain. Well, when he came in just now, you felt more excited than scared. So, you tell him, “You, actually.”

“... Well, thank you.” He grins, laughing kindly. “I have a few patients with dentophobia, and it seems to help them to talk with me before procedures. Would you prefer that we have some extra consultation time in the future? Assuming you need it, of course.”

As he speaks, your eyes shut for just a moment. That warm, comfortable sensation floats through you… As your eyes flutter back open, that open and honest expression on his face just makes you melt. Why were you even afraid of this guy, anyways?

“I don’t have dentophobia.”

“Oh? … Then, may I ask you what specifically had been bothering you?” He asks, resting his forearm against your armrest.

“I have…” You take another breath, trying to collect yourself enough to find the right words. “... um… I have a d-... dental fetish…?”

“... A dental what?” He asks incredulously, those beautiful eyes going wide in… amusement? “D-did I mishear you there, or--”

“No, I’m serious. I have a huge kink for dental-stuff. All kinds of medical stuff, really.” You blurt. He blinks, then leans his stubbly chin against his palm. Taking that as a sign to go on, you explain, “Y’know, examinations, bondage stuff, blood-play, injections, even roleplay… Oh! And doctors are just, like, really hot to me. I like a dad who knows his way around a person’s body, y'know... And the authority, Jesus Christ…”

While you ramble, the dentist moves from being surprised to intrigued. By the end of your confession, he’s fully settled in, and smiling broadly. “Very interesting. Should I assume you mean me, then?”

“Oh, definitely. You’re super my type.” You giggle, grinning right back at him. “Handsome, sweet, intimidating… And your coat looks great on you.”

“You really think so?”

You nod, and your eyes sluggishly slide over his broad torso. He follows the movement of your eyes, and the tips of his ears flush pink.

After a moment of consideration, the dentist rises to his feet and crosses to the door. You feel your heart drop as you assume the worst, but it picks right back up as you hear the lock click.

In a beat, he’s back at your side, now looming over you with a syringe from the tray. The needle is long, glinting in the light above you. You can’t see his face clearly through the glare, but you can tell he’s pulled his medical mask up.

“Open your mouth.”

Without a thought, you do. He cups your jaw with his free hand, sliding his latex-covered thumb over your front teeth. The digit glides over your saliva-slick gums, gently pushing up your lip over your molars.

“Hold still,” He warns, leaning in close as he slides the cold steel into your gums and injects you with… something. After an uncomfortable pinch, he pulls the needle out and massages the area with his thumb again. You whine softly, tasting a hint of blood.

“That was good. You did well.” He murmurs. The praise warms your chest, making you feel more bold. As the pad of his thumb grazes the crown of your teeth, you lick the exposed back of his finger. Even through the shadows, you can see his eyebrows raise in surprise.

With a clatter, he drops the syringe back onto the tray and swings one slender leg over to the other side of your chair. His weight settles against you. He’s heavy, but not more than you can accept on your lap. As you rest your hands on his coat-covered hips, he forces your attention back to your mouth as he presses two fingers against your tongue. Reflexively, you close your mouth and begin to suck on him.

Gabriel made a noise deep in his throat, somewhere between satisfaction and amusement. “... Good boy. You're a wonderful patient.” He purrs quietly, rubbing your cheek with his free-hand.

As you work your tongue against him, you can feel him subtly grinding himself against your abdomen. Cheekily, you slide your hand down his stomach and press your palm against the growing bulge in his pants. In an instant, his hand grabs your wrist and presses it firmly against the armrest.

“Ah-ah." He scolds, a playfully cruel tone in his voice. "This is your appointment. We will be keeping our focus on you… For the moment."

“If you insist.” You mumble around his fingers. He takes them out of your mouth, and skillfully fastens a strap around each of your wrists. As you try to lift your arms, you find them both completely immobilized. Combined with the mask still pumping calming gas into your lungs, you find that your upper body is entirely at his mercy.

"You'll be a good patient for me, won't you?" He asks, his fingers caressing your jaw. You try to nod, but his hold on your jaw forces you to remain looking up at him. "Use your words."

"Y-yes, Doctor." You stammer. Your tongue feels sluggish in your mouth, slurring your speech.

"Very good." He smiles beneath his mask. Your heart stutters in your chest as he plucks a tool off of the tray. His thumb flips a switch, and a soft whir fills the room. He presses the end of the tool to your chest, and for a terrifying moment, you think he's trying to drill through your ribs. But, as a deep buzz resonates along your skin, you recognize it as the same type of brush that Jamie had used to clean your teeth. As he traces along your torso, you find the vibration to be powerful and surprisingly pleasant.

"Now, you'll need to be mindful of the other patients. If they hear someone in distress in my clinic…" He warns, slowly moving the tool lower. Over your stomach, and the waistband of your pants… "It wouldn't be good for business."

You roll your hips under him, subtly presenting yourself. "I'll be quiet. I promise."

He nods, satisfied with your response. Then, he presses the smooth back of the brush head where you'd been hoping he would.

With a sharp gasp, you strain against your restraints. With your pants acting as a buffer, the vibration borders between not quite enough and just right. You have to fight to keep still enough for him to keep the pressure where you want it.

As you swallow back the tiny noises of pleasure that keep rising from your throat, Doctor Langford's attention is completely focused on you. As a particularly strong jolt passes through your body, he carefully tucks a loose strand of hair back behind your ear. Even as you come undone before him, he's still keeping you together.

"... Even through the fabric, you're still responding that strongly?" He clicks his tongue in mock disapproving. "Perhaps you need more anesthetic."

"No, no, please--" You choke out as he withdraws the brush. His pale eyes lock onto yours, urging you to go on. With a hint of desperation, you plead, "I-I want more… Please, keep going?"

"Well… Since you asked so nicely. We will need to get on with your procedure eventually, though." He heaves an exaggerated sigh, then pushes the buzzing tool back against your sensitivity.

This time, you're braced for it. You bite back a moan, and you can see him searching your flushed face. While your hips grind back against the tool, he palms himself idly through his dress pants.

The combination of your dreamy high and the overwhelming stimulation puts your mind in a fog that you can't fathom a world outside of. That's probably why it takes you a moment to register Gabriel's voice as it filters through the haze in your head.

"... still numb?"

"Mmmsorry, what?" You mumble, shaking your head quickly.

Gabriel laughs quietly, adjusting his grip as he repeats, "Is your mouth still numb?"

You prod the injection site with your tongue, then report, "Yeah, almost… um, half of my mouth is completely…. numb… Mmh..."

"Perfect. Could you hold this for me?" He asks, pointing at the still-buzzing tool pressed into your sensitivity.

You roll your eyes at him, nodding toward your fingers drumming loudly on the armrests.

"Oh! How silly of me." He asks with a dry laugh. Then, he easily unbuttons your pants. "How about we try this, then?"

Before you can respond, he slips the tool down the front of your pants. The tight fabric holds the tool against your skin, and with just a slight tilt, it finds your--

"Pfthfucking Christ, OKAY!!" You cry, body shivering as your hips instinctively raise off the plastic-covered chair.

"Too much?" The doctor asks, watching you squirm with obvious amusement.

"Nnnnhhh~, um, no, I mean, it's-- oh fucking fuckfuckfuck, leave it!" You pant, biting your tongue to keep yourself quiet. If the sensation was bordering on perfection before, then this toed the line of too much. But, as your body adjusts to the buzzing, it quickly turns into delicious overstimulation.

Again, Gabriel grabs your jaw, forcing you to look up at him once more. You can barely keep your eyes on his. Your body wants to close your eyes and get swallowed up by the climax slowly building in your stomach, but the rush that his gaze gives you is too wonderful to give up.

For a moment, a silvery glint catches your eye, but his fingers dig into your soft skin. "Look at me." He growls, pressing a thumb to your lips once more, "And open wide."

Eagerly, you do as he commands. You expect to feel his finger run against your tongue, but instead, he yanks your jaw down lower. Your mouth is open as wide as you can hold it, and you just hope that you won't start to drool.

His other hand flits through the corner of your vision, but through the laughing-gas mask, you don't have a clue what he's holding. Something metallic… Another tool.

Cold metal brushes the warmth of your cheek, exposing the numb side of your mouth. Then, there's pressure on one of your molars. The one with the cavity, you think.

"Keep your eyes on me, darling." Gabriel says, a slightly husky edge to his tone. He's leaning in closer now, and you can see how flushed he is under his mask. With your pulse pounding in your ears, you realize how obviously drunk he is on your mutual arousal.

Something pops. Pressure releases in your mouth. You don't feel any pain, but you taste iron.

With a grin, Gabriel pulls down his mask and holds up the molar he just pulled from your skull.

All at once, he tugs your own mask up and off over your head, then closes the distance between the two of you. The dentist kisses you, deep and hungry. You can taste him; his mouth is clean and cool, and the rich warmth of your own blood coats both of your tongues. His gloved hands are all over you, running up your arms and over your chest, tugging at your shirt, then up your neck and into your hair.

And all the while, the buzzing between your legs pushes you closer and closer. When Gabriel finally pulls away, he's breathing harder than you are. His hands fumble clumsily with his belt, before he shakily unzips his pants. In seconds, he's holding himself in hand and stroking with an obvious goal in mind.

Yours hands, still bound, grip the armrests so hard that you're sure the nail marks will never come out. Blood drips down your chin steadily, soaking into the front of your shirt. Doctor Langford's mouth is smeared with red, as are his gloves.

His tongue darting out to taste what's left of you on his lips. He breathes, "You look gorgeous. You're about to cum, aren't you?"

All you can do is nod frantically. You're almost there; your legs are tensed and your hips shiver with anticipation. Just a few more seconds…

With a gasp, Gabriel braces himself with one hand on your headrest. Just as you slip over the edge into a shaking, cursing orgasm, he brings himself to completion on your torso. If you had more presence of mind, you'd be upset at how many fluids have soaked into your shirt. But, as your eyes squeeze shut under the intensity of your pleasure, you don't have a care in the world.

As your own cries of ecstasy die off, you can hear Gabriel panting hard against your neck. Your whole body glows with endorphins, urging you to keep your eyes shut and ride it out.

After a few moments, the dentist's weight shifts, and buzzing between your legs slows to a stop. The pressure on your wrists releases, and the tall man climbs off of your lap.

The stool to your right squeaks as his weight settles into it. You take in a slow, deep breath, and your mental fog seems to lift. Suddenly, everything feels heavy… Distantly, you hear your name being called...

Slowly, begrudgingly, you open your eyes to see Jamie sitting beside you.

"... Wh-... Um. How long were you--?" You squeak, quickly sitting bolt upright and moving to pull the tool out of your--...

The coy grin plastered on Jamie's face doesn't fade as he asks, "Have a good nap, kid?"

There's nothing there. Well, not nothing, but there's certainly no dental tools in your pants. Confused, you touch your mouth. You're still a bit numb, but you're not missing any teeth, and there's no blood. Your clothes are as clean as when you came in, and there's no sign of Doctor Langford.

Jamie clears his throat to stifle a giggle, then goes on. "Your filling went well. You must have fallen asleep pretty early in, since you were out cold by the time I came back."

Your face is burning. Was all of that a dream? You don't remember falling asleep… And, if the wet mess in your pants is anything to go off of, you know that something happened. ...At least in your mind.

"... Um. Did I… say anything stupid?" You ask sheepishly, massaging the numb portion of your face idly.

"Not as far as I know. Doctor Langford said you were a perfect patient." Jamie snorted, turning to the counter to staple together a freshly-printed packet of aftercare information. "He did want me to ask, did you feel any discomfort while you were asleep?"

"N-... no?"

"Oh. M'kay. He mentioned that you got kinda… squirmy… Y'know, when he turned on the drill." Jamie says with an audible smirk. "... He said he hopes that your dentophobia hasn't given you a poor impression of him."

You can't even think of a response that won't damn you to a deeper layer of hell. Either you had a wet dream in front of your dreamy new dentist, or…

"Anyways… You do need to come back for a follow-up appointment soon. Your wisdom teeth gotta be taken care of, ASAP." He says, turning back around and handing you the packet. "Wanna schedule that now?"

You hesitate, tapping the papers against the armrest. Part of you wants to flee the country and never speak the word teeth again. But… Then again… Would it really be the worst thing in the world to see him again?

With a coy grin to match Jamie's, you finally reply, "... What's the earliest you can get me in?"

#self insert #reader insert #smut #drabble #writing #dentist #dental kink #medical #mlm #smile for me #original #doctor #dental #damiensdemon

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splendidlyimperfect · 4 years ago

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When Gray wakes up one night with a voice in his head, the last thing he expects is to suddenly be sharing a body with a demon. Natsu is nothing like Gray expected, though. He's surprisingly charming, and more concerned about getting Gray to eat vegetables than he is with taking over the world. Since Gray can't push him away like he does with everyone else, he begrudgingly accepts Natsu's place in his life - for now. But when Natsu ends up needing Gray's help, what started out as an inconvenience turns into a road trip - and a friendship - that changes Gray's life.

written for @fuckyeahgratsu gratsu weekend 2021 event

day 3 (super late but still!); prompt: consume

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 Fandom: Fairy Tail Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster Characters: Gray Fullbuster, Natsu Dragneel, Lyon Vastia, Mard Geer Tartarus Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Humor, Adventure, Demonic Possession, but the good kind, demon Natsu, References to Depression, Depressed Gray, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Sort Of, Road Trips, Falling In Love, Natsu's not an evil demon, he really just wants to take care of Gray, Gray sucks at feelings

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“Let me get this straight.” Lyon stared at Gray from where he stood in the kitchen, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and boxers. “You want me to help you find a demon, then exorcise that demon so that the other demon inside of you – that I apparently summoned while drunk – can get back into his body.”

“He’s not very bright, is he?” Natsu said. “I told you he was a shitty warlock.”

Gray snorted and Lyon raised an eyebrow. “He says you’re a shitty warlock,” Gray explained. “And yes, that’s exactly what I need you to do. Can you help me or not?”

Lyon stared at Gray, then moved closer until they were nearly nose-to-nose and peered into his eyes. “I don’t believe you,” he said eventually.

“Why the hell would I lie about this?”

“’cause you probably just took something you shouldn’t have last night and you’re still hallucinating.”

Continue reading on AO3

Gray groaned in exasperation. “You’re the one who did the goddamn spell!” Then he glared at Lyon, adding, “Why did you do it, anyway?”

“Ex,” Natsu reminded him. Gray’s eyes flicked up to his blurry reflection in the microwave. Natsu’s image was standing directly behind him, so close he almost had his chin on Gray’s shoulder. The look in his eyes was somewhere between disgust and amusement.

“You were pissed at Loke, weren’t you?” Gray asked. Lyon’s scowl gave him the confirmation he was looking for. “You seriously tried to summon a demon to… what, beat up your ex?”

“I wasn’t trying to summon a demon!” Lyon said, holding up his hands in surrender. “It was just some stupid spell from one of those forums online. It didn’t do anything.”

“Except it did.” Gray gestured vaguely to where Natsu’s reflection was behind him. “And now your stupidity is my problem.”

Lyon shook his head. “Demons aren’t even real,” he insisted. “Seriously, did you try the cookies from the top shelf of the pantry? ‘cause I’m pretty sure—”

“I’m not fucking high!” Gray snapped. He rubbed his temples where his headache was still lingering. “I’m not high,” he said again quietly. “I just want to fix this.” He looked back at Natsu’s reflection in the microwave. “Can you show him? Prove that I’m not crazy?”

Natsu hummed uncertainly, not meeting Gray’s gaze. “Yes,” he said. “But you’re not gonna like it.” Gray’s heart sunk. “I’d need to… take over,” Natsu said. “Everything. Just for a second.”

“You want me to let you…” Gray trailed off and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. All the conflicting emotions running through him – his and Natsu’s – were compounded by the heavy sense of fear that grew in his stomach.

“We can figure out something else,” Natsu said quickly. “Maybe I can—”

“It’s fine.” Gray forced the words out as he opened his eyes and looked back at Lyon’s puzzled face. “Just…” Lyon looked like he might say something, but Gray shook his head, holding up a hand. “Shut up and give me a second.”

He let out the tight breath in his chest, trying to relax the tension in his shoulders.

“I promise it’ll just be for a second,” Natsu said. He sounded regretful. “It’ll feel weird – like when I was petting the cat – but I won’t do anything scary. Well, it’ll be a bit scary for Lyon, but I’m not going to hurt you.”

Gray hesitated. Natsu had only been in his mind for less than a day, but something in Gray’s gut said that he could trust him, even if he was a demon.

“Okay, just make it quick.”

“What are you—”

Lyon’s words faded away as Gray exhaled, closing his eyes, and letting Natsu’s presence overwhelm his mind. It felt warm, like he was sitting next to a campfire and watching sparks flicker up into the sky. The tingling sensation that had filled him earlier came back in full force, leaving him feeling like his hands and feet had both fallen asleep.

When he opened his eyes again, everything looked red.

“Esaeun xnae ya qnuy.” The voice was his, but not his, rough and layered with words that felt too big and wrong for his mouth. They were unfamiliar, but somehow Gray could understand them – he’s telling the truth.

Lyon stared at Gray, eyes wide with terror. “Your eyes are glowing,” he managed.

“Yes. I’m a demon. They do that.” Natsu spoke in the same infernal language, but he sounded more irritated than angry. “I also have sharp claws and could rip your heart out if I felt like it, but I just ate a cinnamon bun and I’m in a forgiving mood. Now do the damn locator spell.”

As quickly as it had taken him over, the warmth and tingling in Gray’s body disappeared, and his vision quickly returned to normal. Lyon was still standing in front of him, but the expression of disbelief was gone, and now he just looked stunned.

“You okay?” Natsu asked in his own voice in the back of Gray’s mind.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Gray reassured him. “Are you convinced now?” he asked Lyon, who nodded slowly. “Good. Now get your shit together and help me figure this out.”

Natsu’s body was in the middle of nowhere.

“Well then,” Lyon said. He and Gray sat cross-legged on the floor of his bedroom and stared at the map where the black mark had settled – a little ways away from a tiny town called Belle Creek in the middle of the Rocky Mountains.

“It says only 26 people live there,” Gray said, looking at the information on his phone. “What the hell is a demon doing out in the mountains?”

“I thought he’d be somewhere big,” Natsu said. “A city, or something. Y’know, causing destruction and mayhem. Killing people. Demon stuff.”

“Maybe he’s retired,” Lyon said. Gray rolled his eyes.

“I don’t think demons retire.”

“Well, what else would he be doing in the middle of the mountains?”

“Hiding bodies?” Natsu suggested.

Gray sighed and rubbed his temples before looking back down at his phone. He flipped over to the maps and typed in ‘Belle Creek.’

“It’s ‘close,’ huh?” he said to Natsu, raising his eyebrow at the distance – nearly 45o0 kilometers. “That’s at least a three-day drive.”

“At least I got the right country!” Natsu insisted. “Three days isn’t a long time. Not when you’ve been around for almost two hundred years.”

“Well, I’ve only been around for twenty-six years,” Gray said. He looked up at Lyon, who was still staring at him with a baffled expression. “I need to borrow your car.”

“You… what?”

“Your car.” Gray shoved his phone back in his pocket and tapped the map. “I’m not taking the bus to the middle of fucking nowhere. And this is your fault, so I’m taking your car.”

“You can’t just…” Lyon looked down at the map, then back up at Gray. “What’s your plan? You’re just gonna drive out to this place and, what? Ask if anyone’s seen a demon in human skin? You don’t even know what he looks like.”

“Yes, I do.” Gray pointed to his reflection in the bedroom mirror where he could see Natsu, sitting next to him on the floor. Natsu stuck his tongue out at Gray, who rolled his eyes. “I can see him. He’ll be easy to find. Now, show me how to do an… exorcism, or whatever.”

“Or whatever?” Lyon made a sound of exasperation. “You can’t just—you have no idea what you’re doing. You don’t even have any magic! How are you gonna…”

“I’ll help,” Natsu said as Lyon continued to rant. He picked at his nails. “With the magic, I mean. I’d have to take over again, just for a little, but I could help, if you wanted. Unless you wanna bring him with you—” he gestured at Lyon “—but I doubt he’d be much help.”

Gray snorted. “I’m not spending six days in a car with this asshole,” he said, gesturing at Lyon, who stopped mid-rant and glared at him. “Just show me the spells,” Gray said. “Natsu can help me figure out the rest.”

An hour and a half later they were both back in the kitchen and Gray was shoving a handful of books and old parchments into his bag. Lyon leaned on the counter and gave Gray a serious look.

“Are you sure about this?” He hesitated, then added, “I know you haven’t been… great, not since she—”

“Shut up,” Gray said quickly, gritting his teeth. “I’ve told you a hundred times that I’m fine.” He could feel Natsu’s uncertainty as he turned away from Lyon and snatched his car keys from the hook on the wall, then grabbed the front door handle and swung it open with more force than necessary.

“Gray, I—”

“I can handle this.” Gray interrupted Lyon’s concerned words. He turned around in the doorway, doing his best to give Lyon a reassuring look. “I’ll be back in a week.”

Gray stood in the doorway to his bedroom, feeling the familiar sense of frustration and defeat as he stared at the piles of dirty clothes and dresser covered in empty coffee cups. He sighed, making his way to the closet, and searching for his duffle bag.

“What’s wrong?” Natsu asked. He’d been quiet the whole drive home, leaving Gray alone with his thoughts.

Gray shook his head. “Nothing. I just have to pack.” He gestured vaguely to the clothes.

“You’re sad again.”

“I’m not sad,” Gray snapped. “I’m…” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m just tired.”

“But it feels like sad,” Natsu said, sounding genuinely puzzled. Before Gray could get mad at him, he quickly added, “I’m not spying! I promise, you’re just – when your feelings are really strong, it’s hard for me to not feel them too. And I feel sad, not tired. It’s weird.”

Gray groaned, tossing the duffle bag on the bed, and rummaging through one of the piles until he found a few mostly clean shirts. As he started to pack up his toothbrush and razor, he gave in.

“My life has kinda sucked lately,” he said. He looked up into the mirror, where Natsu was meeting his gaze and listening intently. “A lot of shitty stuff happened where I used to live, and sometimes it makes me… tired. Of everything.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Gray shoved the toiletries bag into his duffle, then looked around the messy room. “It’s over and I live here now. I’m just trying to figure shit out and I don’t wanna think about any of that stuff. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Natsu was quiet as Gray headed to the front door and started to put on his shoes. Happy, who had been sleeping on the couch, stretched out and meandered over to them.

“Lyon’s gonna take care of you for a bit,” Gray said to Happy as he meowed and rubbed himself against Gray’s leg. “Feel free to bite him.”

Natsu laughed. “Can we pet him again?” he asked. “If not, that’s okay, I just—”

“Sure.” Gray ran his fingers over Happy’s head and scratched behind his ears. He registered Natsu’s surprise, then excitement, and then his arm started to tingle again. Now that he was expecting it, it wasn’t as strange. A warm sensation spread through him as he stroked Happy’s fur.

“You’re happy,” he murmured as he watched his hand with a strange detachment. Apparently feeling emotions went both ways. It was strange – the sensation of contentedness was familiar but alien at the same time.

“I love cats,” Natsu said, scratching Happy under the chin before dissolving his control over Gray’s arm. Gray stood up, looking over at Natsu’s excited expression in the mirror before shrugging on his coat.

“You ready?” he said as he shouldered the duffel bag. He spun Lyon’s keys around his fingers and let some of Natsu’s excitement take over as they headed out the door. “Let’s go get your body back.”

#fairy tail #gratsu #gratsuweekend2021 #gray fullbuster #natsu dragneel #fairy tail fanfiction #ft fanfic #update #new chapter #my fic #highway to hell

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c4pricornc4ts · 4 years ago

Text

Where are Your Parents? - Sbi Au Chapter five

Also on my ao3

Read the other chapters here: [1] [2] [3] [4]

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Tommy scrunches his nose in distaste. “I wouldn’t want to leave either of you ever!”

Techno laughs softly. “Wilbur would love to hear that he won’t have you disappearing like me when you're older.”

Tommy giggles as Wilbur fusses over his clothes. Techno finishes packing a small bag for his trip to the mountains past town. Tommy didn’t like him leaving so much, but he knew it was what Techno wanted to do. He knew Techno left the orphanage to be free to go wherever in life.

He also knew neither of them planned to live in a questionably stable shed with a 10 year old boy to look after but here he was. He always tried to stay positive, but he wasn’t oblivious to how his brothers feel.

Wilbur puts a cap over his messy blonde hair and Tommy smiles at how happy Wilbur looks.

“Remember what I said, Techno.” Wilbur warns.

Techno pretends to be nonchalant and fake yawns. “Yeah, yeah, Toms passes out. I bring him back. If he seems fine, I let him run around town so you get a break” He teases the younger boy.

Wilbur sighs, and steps back from straightening Tommy’s suspenders. “Alright, I’ll see you both soon.”

Tommy grabs a basket and waits for Techno by the path while the older two talk.

Techno readjusts his travel bag and they start walking towards town. Tommy walks ahead of him slightly, excited to finally be out of the woods.

“Slow down Toms c’mon. I know you miss town but it’s not going anywhere.”

Tommy slows down. “What? I thought you were excited to leave that forest too?”

“You know I am, and I know you are, but I’m leaving for a few days so we should talk.” He swings his arm around Tommy’s shoulder, having to lean down very far to reach the ten year old’s shoulders. “I always miss you, you know.”

“If you miss me so much, why don’t you stay intown? I’m sure someone would hire you.”

Tommy watches his brother look straight ahead. “Well, you know how Wil likes staying in the forest?”

“Yeah…”

“And you know how you like to be in town?”

Tommy nods, unsure where his brother was going with this. “Yeah?”

“Well I don’t like the forest or the town. I’m not happy with anything unless I’m free.” He smiles at Tommy. “I like knowing that no matter how far I go, you two will always be there when I’m back.”

Tommy scrunches his nose in distaste. “I wouldn’t want to leave either of you ever!”

Techno laughs softly. “Wilbur would love to hear that he won’t have you disappearing like me when you're older.”

They reach the town and Tommy takes a deep breath at the sight of people other than his brothers. He missed the crowded buildings and stone streets. Before he can go and find the man who will let him sell newspapers, he has to get Techno's seal of ‘I’m not gonna pass out’ approval.

“Well…?” The blonde questions.

“Well… I think you’re going to be fine today, just take it easy for Wil’s sake. And go tell Phil thanks for saving you.” He laughs and starts walking away.

Tommy always wondered how Techno was so sure on where he was headed. He didn’t have any kind of map that the boy could see, he just seemed to know. He hopes one day he could walk into uncertainty with the confidence of his brother. He knows they aren’t really related, but he can’t help but realize he’s adopted traits from both of them over time.

Wilbur taught him about being grateful for all the little things in life, to be happy with who he was becoming and keep pushing to be better. Techno helped him understand that the world was big, bigger than any problem, bigger than him and his brothers. That you’ll never be able to face the world till you start within yourself.

One thing he hadn’t picked up from them is their general distaste for talking to people outside of their family. Though his older brothers were both very interesting people, Tommy always hoped he’d never get their attitude towards others. He’d find it very boring if he didn’t interact with new people everyday.

He turns another corner and shakes hands with the man who owns the newspaper printer. He tries to suppress a sigh when he sees some of the ink from the man's stained hands was now on his.

“Jim, Guess who’s back?”

“Your brother finally let you out of home-jail huh? Took ya almost the full week he told me you’d be out for you to convince him.” The man teases.

“He was really worried, okay? I didn’t want to be home that long either!” He huffs and holds his arms out for Jim to put a stack of newspapers into.

“You know the routine, but in case you forgot; money by tomorrow.” He ruffles Tommy’s blonde hair until it's a mess.

He cringes thinking about what Wilbur would say if he saw someone mess up his hair. “I know, it’s been a week not a year. I’m almost 11 and I can remember everything now.” He puts the newspapers in his basket and walks to the door, opening it with his unoccupied hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Tommy notices the sky has been slowly getting cloudier as he continues to sell newspapers down each street. Stopping to talk with many familiar faces and answering questions about where he’s been.

He’s tapped on the shoulder and turns around while taking a deep breath, prepared to talk about the news yet another time this morning.

He’s greeted with one of Tubbo’s older brothers, Sapnap. With his familiar headband holding back his dark hair like usual. “Sapnap! How are you?” “I’m better now that I know you’re still kicking. Dude, you scared us! Maybe give us a ring next time you get grounded or whatever.”

Tommy wasn’t sure he was allowed to tell people he didn’t have a house phone… or a house. So he just laughed it off. “Yeah, sorry. I fell and hurt my head pretty badly, Wilbur didn’t want me to pass out so I stayed home for a bit.”

“Never heard of someone’s brother grounding them but hey, first time for everything right?” Sapnap laughs and hands him a dime. “For the paper. I’m glad you're better, come visit soon yeah? Eret and Tubbo have been busy with some kind of castle in the backyard. I’m sure they’d like your opinions.”

“Tell them soon, I’ve got something to do this afternoon.” Tommy was going to go thank Phil like Techno recommended. He owes the bookstore owner that at least.

“Alright, I’ll go tell them you’re alive and you know where we’ll be. Just make sure to come after school. Or you’ll be stuck talking with my mom again.”

“I like talking with May, but noted.” Sapnap waves and starts to walk away, flipping through the newspaper as he walks.

Tommy starts heading to the other side of town where (hopefully) Phil would be working in the store and not closed for the day. He sells the rest of his newspapers on the way, which wasn’t surprising since he was handed so few.

The clouds were growing closer together, Tommy walked a little faster to try and beat the oncoming shower. He hoped it would just be a quick afternoon rain.

“Mr. Phil?” Tommy pokes his head into the book store and calls.

“Tommy? How are you doing? Come in before the rain.” He sets down the box of books and sits in a chair behind the desk. Tommy sets his basket on the counter before resting his chin on top of his folded arms.

“I feel better now, I came to say thank you for saving me. Techno wanted me to say thank you for him too!”

They both turn to smile at the new customer when they hear the jingle of the door opening before Phil continues the conversation. “What about Wilbur? How’s he?”

“Well I’m sure Wil’s thankful too, he’s probably just um- embarrassed? I think he’s too busy being upset that he wasn’t there for me…” Tommy lulls his head to one side and starts fiddling with his sleeve.

“He’ll come around I’m sure. He’s just worried about you like a brother should. I hope you told him thank you too.” Phil tries to cheer him up a bit by being the second person today to mess up his hair.

“I did! Well, sort of.” He looks at the box of unsorted books and quickly changes topics. “Can I help you sort those? Please?”

“Well I’m not going to pass up free help. Come over here and I’ll teach you how.”

The pair walk over to the shelf in the back corner and Tommy picks up a soft paper book. Then looking up at Phil for an explanation.

“They’re sorted by title in this section. What’s the book name?”

Tommy freezes, he almost regrets being such a devil about school that they stopped making him try. Because right now it’d be really helpful if he could read.

“I- uh- cah? Cah-la?”

Phil steps beside him and takes the book from him gently. “Call is that first word. Do you know the next one?”

It’s two letters long and Tommy still doesn’t know. “I-I don’t know how to.”

Phil pauses for a moment, Tommy wonders if he is realizing that maybe a kid who lives in the woods doesn’t go to school, and therefore does not thrive well in a bookstore.

“Th-that’s okay Toms, it’s okay. This book is titled ‘Call it Courage’” He reads it slowly, pointing to each word.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, we can turn this into a teaching experience. We’ll read the titles together and then you can sort them.” He hands the book back to the boy and they walk over to a shelf labeled ‘Kids non-fiction A-E’

Phil makes a space and Tommy reaches up to put it on the shelf.

They continue like that for a while, Phil occasionally going to ring up someone’s books or when they both stopped to have lunch.

Tommy is about to pick up another book, when someone with a large dog walks in. He wasn’t a big fan of dogs, and has had too many encounters with mean ones on the street to be comfortable with this situation. He hides behind Phil and grabs his arm.

“The dog is on a leash Tommy, it can't get you.” Phil tries to step away from his grip so they can put away the final few books.

Tommy looks up ready to try and ignore the dog but he immediately makes eye contact with the animal and buries his face in the adult’s arm. He really wishes bookstores had a no pets policy.

Phil detaches himself from Tommy, much to his dismay. “I’ll finish up here, do you want to start heading home before the rain?”

It was only 3pm, he didn’t want to be back in the woods so soon. “Can I go to your apartment and leave after the rain?”

“Sure, but leave the door open so we can listen for customers. I’ll come up there when the store is empty.”

Tommy nods, waits for the dog to be in the opposite corner of the stairs and books it to the red apartment door. Leaving the door open behind him felt strange, Wilbur would scold him when he left their door open at the orphanage.

He’s not a big fan of Phil’s interior design choices, but their house didn’t even have furniture. So really who was he to judge?

He sits on the plaid carpet and opens one of the coffee table drawers. Looking for a game. He pushes a pack of cigarettes aside and pulls out a checkerboard and a small bag of pieces.

After he figures out how to turn on the radio, he sets the boardgame up. Checkers was the only one he really knew how to play. Techno would try to teach him chess but he never could get all the rules right.

So they stuck to checkers. Before they left, whenever one of them was hesitant to talk about what was bothering them, they’d go downstairs and pull out an old checker board and talk while they played.

It always helped Tommy figure out what he needed to say if his hands were busy. When Techno started getting upset over school he’d watch Wilbur smuggle a card game up to the older kid’s rooms.

So he uses it now, he plays a few games of checkers to distract himself from the dog downstairs. He lays on his side and moves the black and red pieces around, flipping them when they reach the end.

The rain starts to pour in sheets. Tommy gets up off the rug to go look out the window. The bookstore overlooks the street where he can see the roads begin to flood with the heavy rain. He leans on the windowsill and watches it for a while, his nose fogging the window from where he has it boredly pressed against the glass.

He gets really worried when he starts to hear thunder. It was already 5pm. Phil would be closing the store in an hour. He really didn’t want to walk home in a thunderstorm.

He especially didn’t want to sleep in the woods in a thunderstorm. The roof always leaked, and it's already so cold that he knows all that water would turn to ice very quickly.

Deciding that walking back in this was something he had to do, he thought it was better to go through a storm than have Wilbur assume the worst and never let him in town alone again.

He drags his feet over to the board game left on the floor, and starts to put each of the pieces back in the bag. He pauses when he hears the stairs creak, turning around to greet Phil once again.

“The rain’s bad Toms, I don’t think you’ll be able to get back home yet.”

“I have to or Wilbur’s gonna be worried about me. I’d rather walk home in the rain than have him out in this looking for me.” He continues to put away the pieces and folds the board.

“I can’t let you out in this, you’re a kid, it's dangerous. If it let’s up later we’ll walk back together again.” He can tell by the tone Phil actually feels bad for not letting him leave. So Tommy pushes the table drawer closed and doesn’t argue.

Besides, sleeping in an actual house during a heavy storm sounded very nice. It might be worth the lecture he’d get from Wilbur when he returned in the morning.

Both of them were sitting on the couch, with the first book Tommy had picked up earlier, ‘Call it Courage’ and they are switching off who reads each paragraph. At first it was difficult stumbling over almost every word, but when he got to sit back and listen to Phil read his paragraph, he knew that being able to read on his own would be worth it.

The boy in the story was afraid of the sea because he saw his mom fall victim to it. Tommy thinks he’d be scared of the sea too if he saw it, especially since he knows it could swallow him whole. He thinks he’ll stick to the river.

They hear more thunder roll by and Phil closes the book as Tommy watches the lightning flash through the curtains. Tommy was nervous about how loud the wind sounded.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to light a candle while you cook? What if the power goes out- and you’re trying to see the pan in the dark? What then Phil?” He’s sitting at the kitchen table now, up on his knees with both hands lifting him up so he was leaning over it precariously.

“There’s a candle in that cabinet,” Phil stops what he’s cooking to point to the drawer closest to Tommy. “If you get me one i’ll light it and well keep it in the middle of the table yeah?”

He picks out one after smelling all of them twice, and by that time Phil is already done with the food. Tommy walks it over to the stove carefully since it’s glass and the bookstore owner trades him the candle for a bowl of soup.

They eat and talk about the story they were reading and the whole time the rain doesn’t let up once. The wind is so aggressive Tommy stops mid rant to worry about Wilbur alone out there.

Phil notices and carries both their bowls to the sink. Leaving them for morning before grabbing the candle and turning to Tommy. “I have a guest room, you can sleep there and leave first thing okay? I can’t let you have a candle because that’d be a fire hazard.” He pauses to laugh at his own joke. “I’ll open the curtains so you won’t need a candle. Streetlights are enough.”

Tommy nods, the storm really wasn’t letting up and it was getting late. Maybe Wilbur will assume he went to Tubbo’s house. He pours a glass of water and follows Phil through a door in the living room.

The room is small, much like the rest of the apartment and has a double bed in between two bedside tables. The wood floor is cold beneath him so while Phil fixes the curtains and sets down his water and climbs under the covers.

“See the door to your left? That’s the bathroom and through there is my room. The storm should be over soon but if you need me that’s where I am.”

“Goodnight.” He’s sitting up in the bed, holding the blanket close to him while he watches Phil turn out the lights.

“Goodnight Toms, I hope Wil’s okay out there.”

While Tommy sleeps, Wilbur doesn’t.

#tommyinnit #sbi #sleepy bois inc #minecraft fanfiction #minecraft #philza #runaways au #wilbur soot #techno #technoblade #c4pricornc4ts

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crusherthedoctor · 4 years ago

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Crusher Elaborations #1: Thoughts on the Aesthetic of Sonic’s World

If someone came up to me and asked “Which do you prefer, Classic Sonic or Modern Sonic?”, my answer would start off with “Well, technically Classic Sonic because...”, and then I'd get cut off by the other person immediately lecturing me on why I'm wrong and why I'm the worst kind of fan imaginable. Should they finish their rant, I would then explain to them in the midst of them basking in their flock of easy Twitter likes that I didn't necessarily mean it in the way they predicted.

If we were talking about the games, the characters, or the character design, I'd be fairly neutral, since I like both halves equally for the most part. In fact, when it comes to characters, Modern might actually have the edge believe it or not, since the sheer number of characters introduced from SA1 onwards naturally means a lot of my favourites were introduced from that point on, such as Tikal, Rouge, Gamma, Omega, Blaze... But then again, Classic introduced Eggman and Tails, and the Hard-Boiled Heavies are technically Classic as well despite being relatively new...

Anyway, the point is, I'm not talking about any of that today. I'm talking about the world that Sonic and his multicolored chums live in. Or rather, the aesthetic of it.

NOTE: This is purely about the game universe. While I do have my thoughts on Sonic’s world as presented in other continuities, that won’t be the focus here.

If you're familiar with my blog, you'll know that as a general rule of thumb, I much prefer colorful and creative worlds in my Sonic universe, and that rings true for my reasoning here. And I know what you're gonna say: “But Crusher, isn't there plenty of that in the Modern games as well?” Yes, there is, and I appreciate them very much. But this is why I feel the need to make a post of this sort to begin with, because I'm NOT saying “Classic cool, Modern boring” and calling it a day. There's a little more nuance to my tastes here.

When I say I prefer the Classic aesthetic for Sonic's world, I don't mean it in the literal sense of disregarding everything about the Modern aesthetic. Let's put it like this: when you're asked to paint a picture of these two sides of Sonic's universe in your head, a specific image will likely come to mind. When you think of Classic, you'll probably think of Green Hill first and foremost, whereas with Modern, you'll probably think of something like City Escape or Rooftop Run before anything else. In other words, when you think Modern Sonic, you're probably imagining the more realistic kind of locations first. And between the two mental images that come to mind, I personally prefer the Classic image. Shock, horror.

I wish I could swim in a sea that’s probably radioactive.

Now keep in mind, I'm not saying that City Escape, Rooftop Run, and all similar environments in the series look bad, because they don't. Unless they're painted with the '06 brush, they generally look fine, and the locations in Unleashed in particular are undeniably beautiful from an graphical standpoint. The problem is that although I can picture this as a world that Sonic could be in, I can't necessarily picture it as Sonic's world specifically. Because when it comes to the more realistic environments, I feel there's not much of an attempt to let it branch out as its own thing.

I know that might seem harsh, especially for Unleashed, since the real world angle was the deliberate theme of that game. And Sonic taking cues from real places is a fine concept, there's no issue there. I'm not gonna complain if there's a France Zone with an Eiffel Tower in the background. In fact, Sandopolis Act 1 has one of my favourite aesthetics in a Classic zone (mainly because the background is really pleasant to look at), and that zone is essentially Egypt Zone. But if you're making a Real World Zone, there needs to be more to it than that, otherwise you don't truly get a Sonic interpretation of our world... you instead have our world as it is with Sonic characters awkwardly stapled on.

When I look at City Escape, it may not be completely unfitting for Sonic (the posters and billboards in particular are actually a really nice touch), but when I look at it, I don't see Sonic's interpretation of San Francisco. I see San Francisco with Sonic shoved in. When they morph these places to Sonic's liking, they'll add rings, loops... and that's it. They rarely take the concept any further, which is a huge shame, particularly in the case of Rooftop Run, where I otherwise do like its visuals a lot, but it just doesn't go far enough with the concept for my liking.

At least you get to murder car owners, and give G.U.N. a legitimate reason to arrest you.

So which Modern games do I feel did the best job at making Sonic's world... er, Sonic's world? Well the truth is, most of them actually do a decent job in this area, regardless of the level design quality or the game’s quality period. SA2 has Pumpkin Hill, Eggman's Pyramid Base, and... SOME levels aboard the A.R.K (mainly the “outside” ones, like Final Rush). Shadow the Hedgehog, a game that reveled in how brown and gritty it was, still had highlights like Circus Park and Digital Circuit. Even '06 of all games had Aquatic Base, which was pretty cool from a conceptual standpoint. And although Unleashed as a whole might be a touch too vanilla in the creativity scale, it still had the glorious Eggmanland at the very end. But if I had to say which of the Modern installments did the best job overall...

- For starters, I'm gonna give a shoutout to SA1, because even though it was the first Modern game, and thus it was technically responsible for the more focused angle of realism in Sonic's world in the first place, it didn't take it quite as far as later games would, and although it may not be a perfect 1-to-1 representation of the world we saw in the Classic games, it does well enough with what it brings to the table that I can still accept it without any issue at all. Some of that has to do with the fact that you still have wilder areas like Windy Valley and Red Mountain to balance things out, but even with the other half, the game's use of colour is enough for it to go a long way, oddly enough. Take the At Dawn section of Speed Highway for instance:

From innocent times, when the radar wasn’t a piece of shit.

Technically, it's really not that different to the urban environments you see in SA2 or Unleashed. But something about the sleepy morning approach gives it a subtle, almost dream-like edge to it that I really dig, and despite it being pretty similar to the likes of City Escape, somehow I have an easier time buying into the idea of this place being part of the same world as zones like Sky Sanctuary.

And seeing how I already mentioned Red Mountain, let me compare it to Flame Core:

Yes, I know bringing '06 into this discussion at all is inherently and hilariously unfair, but let's put aside the game that Flame Core comes from for a moment. Aside from maybe the purple crystal caves indoors (and that's assuming you can even see where the fuck you're going in there), Flame Core is pretty boring to look at as far as Sonic levels go. Red Mountain is vastly more interesting, even though it's basically the exact same concept, and a lot of that has to do with - you guessed it - colour. Sure, it's day time, that's one thing, but you'll also notice that for a lava/mountain stage, it surprisingly has a few grassier sections, sort of like Hill Top in that regard. A little bit of green among the brown and red, and a great contrast to the volcanic nightmare you'll experience when you head inside.

Now this might seem like a fairly minor detail... and yeah, it is, but the thing that SA1 does so well is that it combines so many of those small details to make a complete, well-rounded package. This is why SA1 meshes well with the Classic style despite not being an exact replica, because just as the Classics excelled at, it wasn't afraid to use colour in interesting ways. It understood that a fire level could have more than just red and orange, in the same way that a grassy level could have more than just green and blue.

But of course, as I mentioned, SA1 is not an exception. There are other Modern games that did a great job on the whole...

- Heroes is an obvious answer, since it's translation of Genesis-style environments to 3D is probably one of the most recurring praises the game receives, and rightly so. Not much to say here, except that Hang Castle is still cool as hell.

And plenty of opportunity to admire the not-broken-in-half moon.

- Colours is another obvious one, though something of an ironic one given that the premise of the game involved going to other worlds, and those worlds were all converted against their will by Eggman. Yet, they did an equally superb job at creating fun, unique locales, and Aquarium Park in particular remains a favourite of mine.

Gotta love that red/blue contrast.

- The Riders series has a more futuristic bend compared to the rest of the series, but even when it's not all high-tech, it's got some pretty cool environments of its own, and I feel they even do well at mixing the real world side of things on top of that. Gigan Rocks comes to mind, as does Aquatic Capital.

Reminds me of when Perfect Chaos peacefully protested against Station Square.

- Regardless of my thoughts on the game itself, Secret Rings had some undeniable winners in this depertment. You tell me with a straight face that Night Palace doesn't look amazing.

A wonderful palace for a domestic abuser.

- And lastly, they might have had an early advantage since they're already 2D, but the Advance trilogy and Rush duology deserve a mention. They had some fantastic ideas for zones, like Planet Sonata Music Plant, and they did great with the colours as well. Hell, throughout these five games, the sky was practically every shade of the rainbow at one point or another.

Oh look, another completely whole moon.

Also, quick shoutout to another minor detail akin to the grassy sections of Red Mountain: these pink tunnel sections in Ice Mountain. No elaborate point to make here, just another perfect example of how much I adore these games' use of colour and contrast.

Seriously, I could go on for hours about good contrast.

Although I do bring up these small details for another reason, and in turn, another layer to my more nuanced take on Sonic aesthetics. By this point, we get the basic jist: Crusher likey when Sonic levels unique and pretty. But this can - and has - lead to a couple of misconceptions, so I'd like to address those and then laugh at them.

“So you want Sonic's world to be exactly like Mario?”

A common complaint that Lost World received was that it was too much like Mario, in more ways than one, and part of this was to do with the game's visual style. The zones may have been upbeat, but they often consisted of a bunch of things floating in the air and not much else, ala 2D Mario. While I didn't outright hate it, it’s definitely not what I have in mind for Sonic.

Of course, all complaints about being too much like Mario suddenly turn into praise when Eggette gets brought up...

And why is that? Because yes, I like my Sonic locations to be fun and lively... but I also want them to be firmly established within the context of this universe. The Lost World approach is fine with Special Stages and the sort, but outside of that... well, Studiopolis is a perfect example of what I'm talking about:

On one hand, it's very unique when compared to other cities in this franchise, and it's full of quirkiness, great use of colour, and all that good stuff I've went on about. But at the same time, it's grounded just enough so that it still feels like an actual city that the people of Sonic's world could feasibly live in, rather than a basic and empty video game level with a tacked on city background. Studiopolis may be a level from a video game, but you can totally believe it's a fully fleshed out place from its own perspective.

Naturally, this praise also rings true with the Modern games I listed earlier, and is yet another reason for why I approve of their settings.

“So you think Sonic can't have darker locations?”

It might be easy to take my compliments at face value, and assume that I'm immediately opposed to a zone that's not brightly colored. This is... very obviously false, as even the Classic games have their share of less-than-cheery areas, such as Scrap Brain and the Bad Futures in Sonic CD.

However, when you're making a grittier location in Sonic's world, regardless of the context, it still needs to be interesting. The problem with a lot of them in Modern installments is that they're boring. Crisis City is a generic city on fire. Westopolis is a generic city with aliens firing lasers from above. The prison levels in SA2 - and the indoor ARK levels not named Cannon's Core - are just grey hallways for the most part. That shit isn't exciting, and it doesn't get my mind speculating. It just makes me want to move on.

Let the eggsperts take care of this.

By contrast, Eggmanland is a prime example of how to do it right. Eggmanland is a magnificent theme park as envisioned by the good doctor, but it's also, at its core, a giant metal hellscape fueled by the energy of a dark entity, and it only gets more ominous the further you go through it or try to before you give up because it’s too fucking long and you died at the end. So it sets the mood to be sure, but it's still visually compelling to look at, and interesting to think about.

And since Eggman is apparently the only one who can show us how it's done, here's a shoutout to Titanic Monarch as well:

Like Heavy King, but Heavier and Kingier.

When comparing the final zones in Sonic games, I especially love this zone's visual approach, because it manages to be dark and colorful at the same time, and in a strangly organic way. It's got a spooky atmosphere, with a moody moonlight backdrop to match, and the titular robot is foreboding as hell as you climb up it and traverse through it... all the while having red floors, green and yellow wires, blue and pink buildings, and stained glass windows of Eggman and the Heavies for you to marvel at. So even putting aside the unique scenario of climbing up and then through a Kaiju-sized mech, the mood of the zone alone manages to be extremely memorable.

So what have we learned from all this? Aside from the fact that I’m way too interested in this subject? We now know that when I say I prefer the Classic “style” over Modern when it comes to the way that Sonic's world is presented:

- I don't mean that literally.

- There are certain qualities that although both of them possess, they tend to be more immediately associated with Classic in the collective consciousness, even within the fandom.

- The environments that I love the most in Modern games are often the ones that would also fit perfectly in the Classic style.

So whenever I express the basic nature of this opinion in the future... just imagine a small asterisk at the end of my sentence.

#Crusher Elaborations #Opinion #Sonic the Hedgehog

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flying-nightwing · 5 years ago

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Dark Fox (1/7)

Okay so I’m super excited about this one. It was supposed to be a one shot, but my head got carried away with the developpement of the story and I found the potential just too good not to bring further. So this is gonna be a multi parts, no idea how long yet.

This will not be exactly dark/gritty, but it will deal with existential struggle with identity and sense of justice (for reader, and indirectly for Jason as well). It’s my first time tapping into the questioning of the Self in a work of fiction, so I hope you enjoy exploring this topic with me.

Feedback is always appreciated!

Pairing: Jason Todd x League!reader

Word count: 3352

Warnings: Violence, swearing, death.

Summary: You’re torn in between your heart and your head, who you are and what you aren’t, right or wrong for yourself. The answer is so close you can taste it, but you can’t help but doubt.

"They don't know what's coming for them"

You waited in the shadows, still and patient, watching the gang of thugs hyping themselves for their takeover.

"No cops, no swat team, no fucking vigilante will be able to stop us!"

Cheers went around the group, their military grade firearms raised in the air. All the big fists of Kiev's underground criminal network were there, ready to storm the city. It had been a carefully crafted plan that had started with buying the right people, then diverting NATO's shipment to pro-america extremists to feed the anti-russian movement. Tonight was the night the final blow would strike, with a takeover.

"The city is ours, boys!" The leader shouted. "Take what's yours, and kill the rest!"

That was your cue. As they began running out of the warehouse, you dropped from the ceiling to block their path. You were alone, but the surprise made them all halt nonetheless.

"Who the fuck are you?"

Your eyes found the leader. "You are operating on a territory that is not yours, Dmitri Liyanov" You spoke through your mask, which was distorting your voice without making it any less clear. "Ra's Al Ghul is not pleased with your defiance"

He narrowed his eyes, then relaxed and laughed. "So he sent his little pet alone to confront me about it?" He mocked condescendingly, and with a hand gesture, all firepower in the room pointed to you. "In case you haven't noticed, you're outgunned"

You didn't move an inch, your eyes only trailed on the goon that had taken a step forward, ready to end you. You weren't worried, especially since you caught the movement of the fifteen other shadows silently dropping from the ceiling, unbeknownst to the forty or something goons all facing you.

"Alright boys, let's end this--"

"Oh, you don't wanna do that" A casual, laughing voice then echoed behind you. Your eyes widened in frustration as you recognized too well the intruder. Fuck. "The second you fire that gun, you have fifteen plus one super ninjas cutting you to pieces"

And with that, all hell broke loose.

You threw a Shuriken in the thugs' throat and one that sticked into Liyanov's eye, before spinning around and blocking the oncoming dagger over your head with your forearm brace spikes. You paused there for a few seconds, glaring at the red mask looming over you.

Todd.

"Missed me?" The smirk could be heard in his voice. Of course he’s show up now.

You grabbed a blade in your belt and slashed forward, missing him by inches in his quick drawback. You hadn't expected fighting your equal tonight, but the thrill of a fair fight flared in your veins. The exchanges of hits was swift and graceful, like a river running down it's course. You barely grazed each other, as both of your training was sufficient to plan exactly the other's next move. The question was now about who would make the first mistake.

He backed you up against a wall, you used the crates to propel you up and come down on him. He blocked your motion, you dropped the blade down in your left hand to attack his open side. But before it could reach him, a quick manoeuvre sent you over his shoulder. You recovered the fall with a roll and went at him again, but the movement of Liyanov trying to get up and run caught your eyes. It effectively distracted you, and before you knew it, Jason's foot collided violently with your stomach.

It sent you flying back and rolling ungracefully on your stomach a few feet away. You heard a laugh as you groaned, slowly pushing yourself off the ground. You had forgotten the sheer power of his muscles when catching you off guard. You raised one knee as you caught your breath, glaring at Jason. There was laughter behind his eyes, but he wasn't the one making the sound. Your eyes slid over to Liyanov, who was watching the show.

"Seems like I have some people protecting my interests"

You raised your arm, fist pointed straight at him and shot a small barbed arrow straight to his hand. His laughter turned into screams of pain, but you tuned him out easily. Who's laughing now?

"I'm not done with you" You rasped at him, then pulled yourself up, feet apart and shoulders straight. You faced Jason, now angry and determined.

"Sweet upgrade" He whistled, nodding at your arm "And for the record, I was here to kill him too, but you're far more entertaining"

You didn't answer just yet, you only pulled your sword slowly out of the sheath on your back. You knew that you'd have to bring out the big guns against him.

"Oh I see" He hummed in amusement. "Drawing the sword, for old times' sake"

In a few seconds the metal of your weapons was clashing. It reminded you of all the sparring you did with him, when Talia sent you to him to train with him under Ra’s radar. It reminded you of the first time you had put Jason on his back when he was fresh out of the pit, and how he never could beat you with a sword.

You were light on your feet, making sure that his wider range didn't get you into a leg sweep. He was trying to bring the fight to close range--closer than it could be possible with swords--so he would fall into the one type of combat he actually beat you at. But you could see his game and you refused to give in.

You knew your strengths as well as his and there was no way you'd let the favor switch to him.

So when his long arms sneaked around and got you into a headlock, you threw all fairness out of the window and rose up your left forearm, shooting the same hidden crossbow you had used against Liyanov. Jason jumped back to avoid the arrow piercing through his jaw and was forced to let you go in the process.

"That's cheating" He tsked as you circled each other. You shot three more arrows, which he all dodged and broke mid air. "Really?"

"You're in my way" You only said, suppressing the emotion from your voice. You refused to admit you were holding back, and that you only wasted your small quiver because you knew none of them would hit him. But you still had a job to do, and not even him could stop you.

“Is that a warning?” He snorted. “Because you’ll have to do more than that to convince m- fuck”

You interrupted him with a distraction flash bang and took the moment to attack. He was quick enough to recover on time and block your blade before it slashed his arm, but not enough to have the upper hand in the fight. He was forced into a totally defensive stance as you left him no space to attack. You sped up your hits, so much that his helmet cracked and came flying off. The next moment, your blade swung at his neck--he closed his eyes when he understood your next move-- but came to a dry stop as it touched his skin.

The world froze. There you both were, breathing heavily in the silence of the warehouse. He opened his eyes, like he knew you wouldn’t do it. Still, there was this glint in his eyes, like he dared you to finish your motion.

“You could at least look at me directly” He muttered. “Unless you’re too afraid”

Slowly, you pulled off your mask, showing him your full face. It’s not like there was anybody around who didn’t know who you were under the black hood of the league, and for Liyanov, he wouldn’t leave this warehouse alive to tell on you.

“You’ve changed” He remarked.

“So did you” You replied sternly. But he didn’t, not really. He was still handsome, and a distraction to your work. So you raised your sword, like you would swing down, but instead took his inattention to deliver a round kick at the exact same place he did to you. He flew backwards, and in the middle of his fall, you loaded a sedative dart in your forearm crossbow. You shot him in the neck, and by the time his back hit the ground, he was out.

You watched him for a few more seconds before you turned away and walked to Liyanov. His left eye was now a red mess, no doubt it would have been lost had you let him live. His hand was still stuck to the wooden crate, and he was muttering incoherent things. Probably overwhelmed by the pain, you thought. He looked at you with his one good eye, silently pleading you to end him.

How easy it was to break a weak man’s spirit.

Without a word, you pressed the tip of your sword to his throat and pushed, then slowly pulled back out. You wiped the metal on the inside of your folded elbow and sheathed it back, watching Liyanov choke on his blood and die not so long after. You lifted your head and turned to your team.

“Linadhhab” You ordered to your team as you slipped your mask back on, and left the scene.

----

You never talked.

Despite sharing a hut, meals and basically both of your personal space, words were rarely used in between you. He was always brooding, angry and miserable. And you? Well, you didn’t feel the need to speak unless it was to correct his form, or to tell him to do the work all over again. He hated you for that, and you hated that you were there because of him. You would have done anything for Talia, but you felt conflicted about betraying Ra’s. You knew this could happen when you agreed to become her right hand, but you didn’t expect for it to happen because of an unstable, revengeful boy she rescued.

The rain was pouring nails over the mountain. It was cold and seeping through your clothes, yet still you were outside, circling Jason. There was fury in his eyes, directed at you, at the rain, at the world. Yet, he couldn’t control his swing. You had tried to teach him the art of Katana for days now, but he would always be too rash, to much in a hurry to end things. And the pit clearly didn’t help, giving him muscle strength he had not the discipline to control.

“Again”

He leaped at you, and despite his enhanced speed, you saw his attack coming from miles away. You swatted him and sent him to a tree trunk, his sword falling out of his hands. He was both panting and shaking from the cold, or anger, or both. He slowly got back got his feet, jaw clenched and knuckles white.

“Again”

“Fuck you!” He exploded, walking toward you angrily. You stood your ground. “What’s the point of this, uh? Make me catch a fucking pneumonia?”

“You need to learn control” You simply said, and that made him even angrier.

“I don’t need fucking control!” He yelled. “I’m strong enough to break your bones”

“Try”

He didn’t like the challenge, and even less when you side stepped all of his attacks. He was skilled, but he was getting tired and numb in the rain. And his rage made him way too predictable. You only pushed him when he tried to go for your neck, knowing a chokehold from him was the one thing you wouldn’t get out of.

“Fight back god dammit!”

So you did. A few moves and you had him in checkmate, your blade on his neck. It didn’t stop the fuming in his eyes, nor the venom in his words.

“I know why you’re here” He croaked. “You’re stalling me. Talia is stalling me from getting justice for my death. Because that’s what you do, you hide behind a mask to hide the fact that you’re only glorified hitmen, and that you’re afraid to face your own incapacity to change a goddamn thing in the world”

You waited a second before drawing back your sword, your eyes never leaving his.

“That’s enough for today”

You watched him retreat in frustration toward the hut up the tree, pondering over his words. It was the first time he had talked that much, and you’d be lying if it didn’t make you reflect on it more than you cared to admit.

-----

You never understood the need for luxury.

The suite that had been reserved for your fake identity was way too spacious for comfort, and so full of things you didn't need. It only made it harder, more straining on you. Smaller spaces were easier to control and to securise, and you knew what to expect. nothing-- nobody could lurk when you were at sword range of everything.

But unfortunately, your given identity was most of the time part of the higher class, as money could buy silence better than force. Nobody would dare look for a serial killer in a five star hotel, and if there was suspicions, it would be swept under the rug with any organized crime business the elite conducted. The cover was perfect, but it still made you restless.

As soon as you sneaked back in your room, you went straight to your suitcase and threw it on the bed. With a hiss, you peeled off your mask and league uniform, to reveal a red gash on your arm where Jason’s blade got you. You hadn’t noticed before a few minutes ago, when the adrenaline died down. You sighed and began cleaning it up, then applied a bandage to it. It wasn’t deep enough for it to need stitches, but you would still be careful.

Then, you sewed back up your sleeve. It had had other slashes that you could only see their patchwork from up close, sewn back with a large thread the exact same shade of the black leather.

Next was your shower, to wash down the sweat and the grime and the dried blood. IT was the first one you had in a week, and your first hair wash in twice as much time. The undoing of your braids hurt, and you couldn’t wait to get under water You liked your showers burning hot, it made you feel alive. You had grown up in the desert, after all, and despite your exposure during your training, you hated the cold. You could barely stand it, as a matter of fact. But you’d never show this to Ra’s, it was a weakness which he would try to repress with more cold.

The steam following you out of the shower clouded the bathroom. You reached for your night kimono and wrapped it around you, the black satin clinging to the dampness of your skin. You dried your hair with a towel and brushed your teeth before going back to the suite. There you folded your black league suit and carefully arranged your weapon on the table. You were almost done when the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and a shiver went down your spine.

Half a second later, you felt his presence close behind you. Your head rose up slowly, yet you didn’t make another move. You simply waited as he did, listening to the almost inaudible sound of his breathing. You didn’t know if he had a weapon close by, and your hand was still at reaching distance from yours. And yet, there was no threat lingering in the air. It was almost… Comforting.

And you wanted it to stop.

“After all this time…” Jason’s voice was a whisper, meant for you and only you. “All I get is an ass kicking and a sedative?”

It wasn’t angry, it wasn’t playful. It sounded disappointed, if anything. You felt a pang in your heart that was there no matter how hard you tried to push it away. You hadn’t seen him in years, and his sheer presence was already messing with your head. Why did he show up again?

“What else was I supposed to give you?” Your voice wasn’t much louder. His smell clouded your senses and you so wanted to give in, but you had to resist your instinct. It would be your downfall again if you did.

“You’re still angry” He stated, his fingers barely grazing the skin of your neck in a ghost of a caress. It gave you goosebumps, so much you had to close your eyes. His touch was always your weakness when it came to him.

No matter how cold his skin would get.

“You’re the one who left” You turned your head to the side to catch a glimpse of him behind you. Your voice betrayed your own feelings as it hitched at the end. He moved in your field of vision, his hand gently trailing your neck to cup your cheek. You sighed and leaned in, despite your inner protests.

“I had to go” He repeated the same thing he had told you three years ago. “You could have come with me. You didn’t have to--”

You didn’t have to stay with them, you completed for him in your head. You’ve had this argument already, and you were tired.

“I did. Ra’s--Talia gave me everything” You replied. “The league is the only way. I must stay loyal”

“No you don’t” His face was closer to you know, so much you felt with breath on your lips. “They won’t help you, you know this inside. Come with me”

He knew your secrets, your goals, your drive; it was impossible to lie to him. You had opened yourself like a book to him, and now he had power over you. Over your feelings and your thoughts, and while your heart wished nothing more than to surrender, your head kept pulling you back. And for a moment, you did. You pressed your lips against his, softly and quietly. It felt just as you remembered. But reality caught up with you again and you pulled away.

“I’m sorry” You breathed, turning away from him. “I can’t leave. Not when I’m this close”

"Okay" He took a step back, nodding to himself. "If you change your mind, I'll be there"

The next time you turned around, he was gone.

------

Only a few lights were still open in the Gotham division of LexCorp that late at night. The guard on shift didn’t even bother scolding the over zealous technician still inside, as he found it was no use to get him out of there at reasonable hours. He was always working on something, some small, insignificant detail. It always had to be perfect.

“No, why are you always doing this to me” The tech whined out loud, even though there was no other colleague to entertain him. “Please remain calm”

He would always say some weird stuff, but that night he seemed more agitated that usual. The security guard paused, making a face at the crazy tech.

“That’s it that’s it” He nodded to himself. “See? You can do it”

The guard squinted his eyes, before scoffing and walking away. “Fucking weirdo”

The tech kept working like the guard never passed by. In fact, he hadn’t even noticed when he did. He was close to the solution of his problem, of why the damn machine would not start. Well he knew why it wouldn’t start; a disbalance in the molecular component triggered the fail safe. He just had to find the right element to add without messing up the entire thing…

“Dear Lord” He gasped, looking a his microscope, then at his notes. Then back at his microscope. “I found it. I FOUND IT!”

A few miles away, two people watched the feed of the tech laughing to himself and celebrating. One had a smirk, the other an incredulous expression.

“I’ll be damned” The latest mumbled. “The fool really did it”

“So it seems” The other hummed in agreement. “We can now proceed to the next step”

254 notes · View notes

forestwater87 · 4 years ago

Link

Listen, just because this fandom is temporarily dead doesn’t mean my love for Gwenvid is.

Mega thanks to @gwenvidweek for making this happen! We love you, mods!

Gwenvid Week, Day 1: Before Camp/After Camp

David’s always had a soft spot for rituals. They remind him of his mom, of camp -- of all the things that feel like home. They center him, clear his mind, get him ready for the challenges ahead.

He carefully dots the exclamation mark in the sand and takes a step back, tossing his writing stick to the side and putting his hands on his hips. The words written on the shore are a little crooked, the D a little crooked from when a sudden bird call startled him, but as he kicks off his boots (carefully rolling up his socks and smushing them into the toes to keep them from getting sandy) his chest is warm and light.

And lucky for him, because the lake is so cold he nearly jumps out of his skin. Clenching his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering, he forces himself to wade out to his waist, and turns back to survey his handiwork. With the frigid water of Lake Lilac leaving his legs numb, the cool breeze making the trees rustle and the air smell like pine needles, and the sun already scorching everything it touches as it climbs into the sky, he reads back the words in the sand, letting his gaze move slow and deliberately over each swoop and wobbly line and tracing their mirror in the calm surface of the lake like sacred runes.

Campe diem. The words that make the summer begin.

Or . . . not quite.

“David!”

The voice makes him jump, but a second later he smiles. “Good morning, Gwen!” he calls, splashing back to shore and subtly kicking away the letters. “It’s nice to see you up so early on such an important day!”

His co-counselor doesn’t look like it’s nice to be up, but aside from a baleful glare she shoots at the sunrise she doesn’t respond. She’s still groggy, dressed in her pajamas with her hair a messy tangle of knots that blend the two tones into a single warm burgundy. The sun makes her glow where it hits her face, warm and lit from the inside like a jack-o-lantern . . . only that sounds a lot less pretty than he intended, so he’s relieved that’s one of the thoughts he didn’t share out loud.

David wonders if people enjoy looking at their best friends this much, or if it means something potentially dangerous. The way he always does when this question occurs, he quickly banishes it from his mind. “How are you settling in?” he asks, fully aware of the answer. They share a cabin, after all, and Gwen’s spent enough years at Camp Campbell to have the routine down to a science; within minutes of hopping off the bus QM rented for the summer, she’s mostly unpacked, changed into her counselors’ uniform, and begun a critical sweep of the camp’s supplies and paperwork.

She makes a noncommittal noise, rubbing the sleep from one eye with the heel of her hand and trying to shield herself from the sun with the other. “Are you ready? The stores are gonna be full of families getting shit for the summer -- it’ll be like Black Friday, so we’ve gotta be in and out as soon as the Tradin’ Post opens unless you’re prepared to deck some soccer moms.”

He resists the urge to smile; she might not believe in the power of the beginning-of-summer rituals, but this optimistic plan for their camping supply trip is as much a staple of every summer as David’s sand writing. “Sounds like a swell plan, Gwen.”

“Yeah, whatever,” she mutters, but he catches a half-smile before she turns her back on the lake. “Come on, get dressed and meet me in the Mess Hall. I’ll start inventory.” As he falls into step beside her, she glances over at him, raising her eyebrows. “Morning swim?”

He shrugs, turning to survey the empty campground. “Basically!”

“Sure. Seems like something you’d do.” She dismisses him with a wave of her hand, already fixated on the task at hand. “Just hurry up so we can get out of here. If you think you’re gonna make me do all the hard jobs by myself, I’ve got a guitar with your face written all over it.”

David laughs before he can stop himself. “There it is,” he murmurs, causing her to glance over curiously.

“Huh?”

“Nothing! I’ll meet you in the kitchen. Might as well start by seeing what food we have, right?” As he ducks into the counselor’s cabin, he catches a glimpse of her hair, glinting like copper in the early-morning light, and his heart lifts.

There it is.

Writing the camp’s motto in the sand and water is important to him, a silly little consecration ritual that marks the line between his life outside of Camp Campbell and the endless, magical months of summer. He’s done it ever since he was a junior counselor; it feels like staking a claim on the only perfect place that’s ever existed, like writing his name on the heart of the earth. Even if he technically owns the camp now -- something that felt too bizarre and wonderful to make sense last summer and if anything is only more strange after an entire year -- no amount of signatures or invoices capture the simple power of the words “campe diem” on Lake Lilac.

But for David, the summer doesn’t really begin until Gwen tells him she needs him. Never in those exact words, of course . . . but he’s gotten pretty good at reading between her lines, and she’s never exactly been subtle.

He tightens his bandanna around his neck, smiling at his reflection. Get out there and help your CBFL, David. Campe diem.

The wheels that help spring become summer begin turning.

---

“Okay.” Gwen groans, rolling her shoulders; there are some ominous pops and cracks, but she doesn’t look like she’s dislocated anything so David assumes everything’s fine. “I’ll “Okay. This is okay.” Gwen runs a hand through her hair, grimacing as her fingers get caught in tangles. She’s still in her pajamas, a smear of dirt along her thigh from crawling around the supply shed, but she’s so single-minded David isn’t sure she’s even aware of what she’s wearing. (He makes a quick mental note to remind her to change before they leave, because when she gets hyperfocused like this, it’s easy to see her blasting down the shelves of the Sleepy Peak Tradin’ Post in bare feet and oversized paisley boxer shorts.) “We can’t afford literally anything we need. Just like every summer. This is gonna be a disaster, but that’s okay.”

He puts his hand on her shoulder, figuring now isn’t a good time for a hug. “It’ll be fine,” he tries. He scans over their shopping list and tries to imagine a way they can stretch their budget to cover it all; then he remembers that he doesn’t know what their budget is, because Gwen takes care of that, and feels a faint spike of panic jam itself between his ribs. “Let’s ask Mr. Campbell if --”

“Don’t even think about it, kiddo. The government already cleaned me out.” Mr. Campbell slouches into the room, tugging at the trapdoor in the Mess Hall ceiling that leads to the attic. “Those brothers found every last hiding place I had. Apparently it’s being used to repay my ‘debts to society,’ if you can believe it.”

“I can,” Gwen mutters, gaze darting around the Mess Hall as though hoping a sign saying “Free Money Here” will appear out of the blue. She hurries into the back room, where they’ve managed to convert a closet into something resembling an office.

David’s distracted by something else, though. “Brothers?” he repeats, hurrying to help Mr. Campbell lower the spring-down ladder from the ceiling.

“Yeah, those suits from Washington. You’ve met them a hundred times -- sunglasses, terrible fashion sense. The secret agent guys.”

“Um, sir --” he’s not supposed to call Mr. Campbell “sir” anymore, since he’s technically the boss now, but it’s a surprisingly tough habit to kick, “-- if you mean Agent and Agent Miller . . . they’re not brothers.”

He frowns down at David, frozen halfway up to the attic like he’s scaling a mountain. “Of course they are! Or are you going to tell me it’s a coincidence that they have the same last name?”

David shrugs awkwardly, kind of wishing he hadn’t said anything. “They’re married, sir.”

“Really?” His brows furrow. “And that’s legal here now?” David nods. “Go figure. Well, good for them.”

Gwen bursts back into the Mess Hall with a scrap of paper, snatching her phone off one of the tables. “Agent Miller?” she says after a moment, and her tone abruptly melts into honey. “It’s Gwen Santos! You know, from Camp Campbell? Yeah, it’s great to hear from you, too! How’s the weather over there?”

The rattling sound of the ladder being drawn back up into the attic startles David, making him jump and glance away from the conversation. He frowns up at the closed trapdoor -- he’s pretty sure Mr. Campbell is telling the truth about his stashes of money, but it’d be nice if he at least tried to help -- then crosses over to the safe in the corner. (It’s empty, of course, but he wants to feel like he’s doing something useful.)

Meanwhile, Gwen’s voice still sounds like it’s made of spun sugar: “Things are wonderful over here! We’re taking good care of everything. Actually, that’s part of why I was calling . . . I noticed Ered’s coming back this summer?” A moment of silence, then a bubbly laugh. “Well, we’re certainly excited to have her here! The thing is . . .”

A few minutes later she ends the call, immediately jumping into the air and spiking her phone into the couch. “That’s how it’s done!” she crows, dancing in a circle. “I -- am -- the -- best!” Each word is punctuated by punching the air, and then she twirls around again.

Her eyes land on David as she finishes spinning. It’s like a bucket of water was dumped on her head -- her shoulders slump, her arms fall to her sides, and it even seems like the brilliant violet of her eyes turns duller.

“Oh. Hey, David.”

He forces a smile, rising to his feet and wincing as his knees crack. “That sounds like good news!” he says, wondering if there’s a way to tell her he doesn’t mind seeing her happy without it making everything awkward and weird.

She brightens a bit, rescuing her phone from where it lodged itself between the couch cushions. “Yeah. Turns out the Millers are really happy with you for taking care of Campbell all year. They’re Venmo-ing the camp some cash. Probably not enough for most of the stuff we need, but we can cut it down to the essentials.”

“That’s amazing!” He doesn’t entirely know what she accomplished, but it sounds encouraging. “Gwen, you’re incredible!”

She shrugs, her cheeks flushing pink. “Whatever,” she mumbles, then raises her voice almost to a shout. “It’s crazy what great things can happen when you’re not breaking the law all the time!”

Mr. Campbell’s voice is muffled by the closed door: “Give it a rest, Gina!”

Gwen rolls her eyes, but her attempt to look annoyed is dampened slightly by the smile that keeps tugging at the corner of her mouth. “What a dick. Come on, David, let’s get out of here.”

When she emerges from the cabin, dressed like a Camp Campbell counselor for the first time this summer, he looks up from his phone with a smile. “Campe diem, Gwen!” he says, giving her the Camp Campbell salute. Her response is just to shake her head, which is about all he expected. “You look great!”

She gives him a strange look as she slides into the driver’s side of the campmobile. “I look like this all the time, David.”

And she looks great all the time, but he knows better than to say that out loud. “Camp Campbell has a Venmo?” he asks instead (he looked it up while she was getting changed).

“Yes, Brother David. It’s one of those boring grown-up things I did while you were playing in the dirt last summer. No need to thank me.”

Well, she said he doesn’t need to thank her, so he chooses not to. That’s just the kind of thing Gwen does, after all, and once again he wonders how they’d get by if she was able to find a better job.

We’d figure it out, he tells himself, looking out the window as the camp falls behind them. But not this summer.

He has one more year of grace, anyway.

She’s here, and he might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

---

Even though Gwen says she doesn’t have any rituals, there are a few things that they have to do every summer, the day before all the campers arrive. Inventory coupled with a panicked last-minute shopping trip is one of them. Listening to strange music at earth-shaking volumes on the drive to and from town is another.

“Yeah, girl, it's true, I'm into you, but these benzos, they got me feeling loose --”

David’s tempted to cover his ears -- it cannot be good for his eardrums; he didn’t even know the volume knob went this high! -- but if he does that, he might block out Gwen’s voice. There are very few situations where she’s willing to sing with an audience, and the car ride into town is one of those rare occasions.

He sits back, watching her shimmy her shoulders in time to the music, painting the air with the hand not on the steering wheel in strange gestures that are half conducting and half gang signs --

“Why don't you come through, before I Goku -- fuck this white pill and go super xan!”

-- and decides, like he does every year, that this is worth the risk of moderate hearing loss.

As they pull up in front of the store (despite Gwen’s dire warnings, the street is as empty always), she switches the music off. David tries to convince himself the ringing in his ears is all in his head, and that he isn’t going to suddenly wake up deaf. He mostly succeeds.

“Okay, David.” Gwen stops directly in front of him, putting her hands on his shoulders. It suddenly feels like there’s a snake constricting around his chest, and his next breath stutters and doesn’t seem to pull in enough air. She doesn’t notice, narrowing her eyes at him as though he was one of their poorly-behaved campers. “We have a list.” She waves it between their faces for emphasis.

He swallows, nodding. “We do.”

“We’re sticking to the list.”

David nods, resisting the urge to laugh. “Of course we are,” he says; he hadn’t intended for his remark to sound sarcastic but can’t be entirely disappointed that it does.

“We’re not buying anything unless it’s on this list, got it?”

“Got it, Gwen!”

“Good.” She takes a step back and punches his arm lightly. “Let’s go, CBFL.”

As he follows her into the store, he couldn’t keep from smiling if he tried.

---

“Wasn’t that fun?”

Gwen groans, shoving the last of the bags into the car (David reminds himself yet again to put his reusable shopping bags in the campmobile so they don’t spend another summer gathering dust under his bed) and slamming the door shut. “Swear to god I’m gonna get a leash for you,” she grumbles, putting her forehead on the steering wheel for a moment before starting the car. “I’ll order one from a kink website or something and you’ll only have yourself to blame.”

He doesn’t roll his eyes, but it’s a close thing. “I don’t think that’s necessary . . .”

“Oh, yeah?” She lifts her head to give him a sideways glare. “How many knives did we buy?”

“Two.”

“And how many knives were on the list?”

Okay, she’s made her point. “But Gwen, one of them is specially engineered for whittling!” He digs through the bags until he recovers it, holding it up to her. “I’ve always wanted to try whittling!”

“‘Specially engineered’ is a bullshit term used to sell stuff to idiots, David. And the other one . . .”

“Is . . . well . . .” Okay, so he doesn’t have an exact use for it yet. But he likes being prepared, and it’s important to have tools on-hand. “The box says you could shave with it! Isn’t that cool?”

She taps on the steering wheel impatiently. “Are you planning on shaving with it?” she asks, deadpan.

“No.” But he could.

Gwen snorts, starting the car. “Well, you’re gonna have to explain to the campers why we’re using the same old watered-down paint as last year.” She pulls an imitation of him that’s disturbingly accurate. “‘Golly gee, sorry about that, kids! But look at this cool knife I got instead!’”

That hardly seems fair, but he doesn’t have a good comeback. Knives aren’t cheap, it’s true, and he hates the thought that the camp will suffer because of him. “I mean, when you put it like that . . .” he mutters, looking out the window to avoid her accusing gaze.

There’s a moment of silence. Then her arm lands heavily around his shoulders, pulling him into a sudden half-hug. By the time he’s registered what’s happening, she’s taken her arm back and gently shoved him back to his side of the car. “It’s fine, David,” she says with a sigh, her face slightly pink. “I didn’t have to buy Nights with the Wolf Queen, either.”

He doesn’t point out that a grocery-store paperback is hardly as much of an expense as two wilderness knives, mostly because he doesn’t want her to realize it herself. So he takes the olive branch and smiles at her before reaching to the dashboard and turning the music back on.

Noise explodes through the car, making both of them jump even though they knew it was going to happen. Gwen’s surprise immediately dissolves into delight, and even though she doesn’t thank him outright, she bobs her head and drums on the steering wheel to the beat, and that feels like thanks enough.

“Robbing banks, knock it off! Not saying thanks, knock it off!”

David perks up, tilting his head to hear better (not that he needs to, since the music is currently drilling its way into his skull). “Hey, I like this one!” he says. Why didn’t they start with this song?

Gwen glances at him for a second before returning her eyes to the road, clearly trying not to smile. “Would it even matter if I tell you this is sarcastic?”

It wouldn’t, and they both know it.

---

David takes a step back, holding up his phone and fiddling with the zoom. This is another important part of beginning the season; the supply room will never be this full or tidy for the rest of the summer, and their hard work deserves to be documented before it all gets undone. “Looks perfect!”

So perfect, in fact, that it needs to be uploaded to Instagram. Right now!

“Yeah?” Gwen huffs, slumping against a pile of unmade tents nearly as tall as they are. She must’ve dragged it out of the shed while he was sharing his photo. “I’m so glad you’re doing the important stuff while I slack off.”

If that’s sarcasm, he chooses to ignore it. “Don’t say that! You’ve done a great job today!” She groans loudly -- so it was sarcasm, good to know -- but takes the other end of the tarp holding all the tents and helps him drag it out to the field. The sun hovers just above the trees, golden-yellow and almost thick enough to touch, and his stomach grumbles as they survey the campgrounds. “Do you want to have dinner first, or . . .”

“Fuck that.” She grabs a tent and slings it over her shoulder. Her face and neck glisten with sweat, and she impatiently brushes the strands of hair that’ve escaped her ponytail out of her face. She looks unkempt and beautiful, like a lumberjack, or a viking. “If I sit down, I won’t be able to get back up. Let’s just finish this shit.”

Her language leaves a little to be desired, but her logic is sound. The tents are meant to be put up by and for children, so they aren’t too difficult to set up, but most of them have taken damage between the last summer and storage, so the process keeps stalling to fix broken rods and quick-sew patches over holes in the fabric (David’s job, mostly; Gwen isn’t much of a seamstress). The air is a gloomy indigo by the time they finish, cooling down just enough to make their sweat-damp clothes miserable. “Why don’t you take the first shower?” he offers as they walk back. “I’ll start dinner.”

“My hero,” she quips, veering off toward the counselors’ cabin. David shrugs off his discomfort and exhaustion, forcing a skip into his step as he heads into the Mess Hall.

This is their final ritual before the campers arrive tomorrow, and he wants everything to be perfect.

---

“Hmm?” He cups his free hand around his ear, gently twirling his stick over the fire. As much as he wants to look over at Gwen, he has to keep his attention on roasting his hot dog. The last thing he wants is to deal with another exploded dinner. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

She snorts and throws a marshmallow at his head. “Oh, fuck off.”

“No, I’m just not sure I heard you correctly! Because it sounded like maybe you were saying you were wrong about something --”

“Very cute,” she mutters, rolling her eyes.

“-- and that, consequently, I was right!” He grins at her, removing his (cooked to perfection) hot dog from the fire and transferring it to a bun.

“Sounds like you’re saying you wanna be hit in the face with a flaming hot dog, Greenwood.”

He leans forward and gently takes the stick from her hand, saving her food from its fiery doom. “I just think it’s swell that you’re willing to admit when you’re wrong, Gwen.”

“Give that back! It’s not done cooking.”

“It’s overcooking!”

“And that’s how I like it!” She snatches back her stick and holds it to the center of the flames, shooting him a defiant glare. A moment later there’s a loud pop; they throw themselves to the ground to avoid the burning shrapnel of the exploded hot dog, which light up the air like fireworks before sizzling harmlessly out in the dirt.

They both sit up, brushing themselves off, and take their seats around the campfire again. David waits a minute before saying, “This might be another good opportunity to practice owning up to your mistakes.”

She shoves his shoulder, laughing. “Let’s see you do it better.”

He does, knowing and not caring that she’s gotten him to do all the work for her. The fire is a lovely contrast to the chilly night, and he feels warm and glowing all over.

After dinner they crowd themselves into one of the campers’ tents, rolling out sleeping bags on the floor next to the child-sized cots. Gwen sprawls out across hers, stretching like a cat. “Hell of a last supper.”

He knows what she means, but he isn’t comfortable sharing her dread over three months of meals cooked by the Quartermaster. At least, not out loud. Instead he crawls back outside, recovering the two steaming mugs he pilfered from the Mess Hall and bringing them into the tent. “Here you go!”

She sits up and takes the hot chocolate, curling both hands around it despite the heat. “Well, since I’m apparently on a roll here,” she says, taking a sip and sighing happily, “I guess I have to admit that this is a really good way to start the summer.”

David quickly takes a drink as well, hiding his smile behind the mug. “So I was right about that as well?”

“Okay, don’t milk it,” she snaps, but there’s no real malice in her voice. She leans back against one of the cots, wincing at the screech of metal shifting, and tilts her head up to the ceiling, as though she can see through the fabric to the stars beyond. “I had a lot of fun today,” she says after a moment. Setting her drink to the side, she tugs the elastic out of her ponytail; in the white light of their lantern, with her hair falling in loose, fluffy waves down to her shoulders, she looks soft and almost ethereal, like a princess in a fairy tale. “Thanks, David.”

She meets his eyes, the light turning them a silvery lavender, and looking at her is suddenly too much so he turns his attention to his drink. “No problem, CBFL,” he says, taking a deep breath and wishing his heart wasn’t beating so fast. He opens his mouth to say something else but it turns out there’s nothing else he has to say so he shuts it again, feeling stupid.

For a few minutes they’re quiet, drinking their hot chocolate in companionable silence. At least, David hopes it’s companionable -- he’s not exactly sure how to measure companionableness, but it seems friendly enough so he’s going to do his best not to overthink it. That’s what Gwen would tell him, he knows, and she has a degree in psychology so she definitely knows what she’s talking about more than he does.

Thank goodness he’s not talking out loud; it’s embarrassing enough that he’s babbling in his own mind . . . oh no, what if he has been talking out loud this entire time? What has he said?!

“David?” His gaze snaps up to her, but she doesn’t look annoyed or creeped out so he probably hasn’t been saying anything too weird, at least, and probably hasn’t been talking out loud at all so that’s good but her expression is alarmingly serious and she hasn’t said anything else and it’s been at least ten seconds that they’ve just been looking at each other but he’s not sure what she wants so -- “Let me know if I’m reading this wrong.”

“Reading?” he manages weakly. He feels strangely disconnected from his body as he watches her set her mug aside and cross the small space to kneel in front of him. Her hand alights on his shoulder, fluttery and weightless as a hummingbird, and she seems a little close and a lot beautiful and if he’s not extremely careful she’s going to figure out all the things he’s put so much work into not letting her figure out -- try not to feel at all, but it’s hard to keep his composure and not look at her mouth when it’s so close and there’s no camp activities or pre-camp activities or post-camp activities to distract them both with, just quiet and breathing and soft white lantern light and her hand on his shoulder, and he’s always considered himself able to multitask pretty well but this feels like too much so he squeezes his eyes shut . . .

The kiss takes him entirely by surprise. One moment he’s bracing himself for a confrontation, questions he doesn’t know how to answer, and the next moment is filled with Gwen -- her lips soft and slightly chapped against his and her fingers tightening on his shoulder and the coconutty smell of her shampoo all around him and he’s a little worried that he’s having a heart attack but gosh, jeez, fuck it, he kisses her back.

And she doesn’t shove him away or demand to know what in the name of fun he thinks he’s doing; she lets out a weak little huff of air that lands somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, her mouth opens just slightly, and she shifts forward, her arms twining over his shoulders. One hand slides into his hair, the gentle scrape of her fingernails shivering from his scalp down his spine, and it occurs to him that he can touch her as well, that he’s not only apparently allowed but actually probably should. Slowly, both so she has plenty of him to stop him and in a futile attempt to stop his fingers from shaking, he lifts his hand to her neck, gingerly cupping around the base of her head and running his thumb along the space behind her ear. She gasps against his lips, but she doesn’t pull away so he assumes it’s a good gasp and repeats the motion, and when her tongue flicks against his bottom lip like a question he opens his mouth, because he’s never been very good at saying no to her for anything and he sure as sugar has no intention of starting now.

David’s not sure how much time passes before she pulls back, but even though he feels cold and bereft everywhere they’re no longer touching it’s probably for the best, because he doesn’t realize how lightheaded he is until he opens his eyes and has to wait for the world to shudder into place. She sits on her heels, biting her lower lip; he lets his hand fall away from her, and in a second they’re disconnected, apart.

“Well.” She chuckles weakly, tucking her hair behind her ears. “That was . . .”

A mistake, his brain finishes, and his stomach drops in miserable anticipation.

In fact, he’s so prepared for those devastating words that he almost misses what she actually says: “unexpected, huh?”

It takes him a moment to register that, to recalibrate, so his response is a bit too late, just a little bit awkward: “I -- definitely didn’t see it coming.”

“That’s because your eyes were closed,” she says with a grimace, like she regrets the lame joke even before she’s finished saying it; but it melts so seamlessly into a smile, small and self-conscious and unexpected and perfect, that he forgets what words are, let alone that he’s supposed to say some to continue the conversation.

With a nervous glance at him, Gwen scuttles back to her side of the tent, picking up her mug of hot chocolate.

“Sorry, was that totally inappropriate?” she asks, responding before he can. “I mean, of course it was, you’re technically my boss, I don’t know what -- I just thought I was -- there were some signals -- weren’t there? Was that . . . okay?”

The enormous stupidity of the question finally surprises him into speaking. “Okay? That was . . .” the best thing that’s ever happened in my life. “Very. Okay -- it was completely okay. Better than okay, it was . . . you know, good. Nice. I’m going to stop talking now.”

Her smile widens, visible even as she covers her mouth with one hand. “Really?” she says, suddenly like she’s blurting it out. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He’s so sure that he shuffles forward on his knees, most likely looking like a total idiot, until he’s in front of her again. He doesn’t have the courage to kiss her so he takes one of her hands, turning it over and examining how beautiful it is, how lovely it looks contrasted with his pale fingers. He strokes the backs of her knuckles, marveling at how soft her skin is even after a day of hard work, and tries to remember how to breathe.

Gwen puts her other hand under his chin, forcing him to look up, and kisses him again.

It’s a bit less gentle than the first time, both her mouth and her fingers hot and insistent as they press against him, and he loses his balance, falling onto his back with a small yelp of surprise. She follows him down without breaking the kiss, lowering herself to her elbows and covering his body with hers. He’s distantly aware of a dull ceramic clunk, but he doesn’t really take notice of what it means until a few moments later, when something lukewarm and wet seeps into the hem of his pajama pants.

“Shit!” She rolls off of him, righting the mug of no-longer-hot chocolate and scrambling for the napkins left over from dinner. “Fuck, it’s everywhere.”

He tugs her sleeping bag away from the spill, but it’s already soaked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to knock it over!”

She shakes her head, sitting back and surveying the damage. “No, I think I did it. It’s fine, the dirt’ll soak it up. But it’s gonna bring ants, so we’re going to have to give this tent to the campers we hate the most. I vote Max.”

“Gwen!” He can’t quite make that sound as disapproving as he should. He scoops up the wet napkins and drags her wet sleeping bag outside. “I’ll go put this in the wash right now.”

She glances at her watch, then back up at him. “It’s almost midnight, David. I’m not staying up until that’s clean, it’ll take all night.”

He knows she’s right -- the machine they rely on for the camp’s laundry is the same one they’ve had since he was a junior counselor, and runs extremely slowly -- and disappointment makes his shoulders slump. “We can sleep in the cabin, then. That’s no problem.”

When he returns from the laundry, yawning, Gwen isn’t in the counselors’ cabin like he expected. She’s not by the dying embers of the campfire, or in the tent. The sleeping bag, it turns out, isn’t in there either, nor are the lantern and the mugs of hot chocolate. He opens his mouth to whisper-call her name (it’s spooky with the fire out) --

“David!”

He jumps, covering his mouth to muffle a noise that was definitely not a scream, and turns to see Gwen leaning out of one of the other campers’ tents, half-hidden by shadows. She gestures him over and disappears back into the tent.

Shaking off his alarm, he ducks inside to see Gwen bundled up in the sleeping bag on the ground, with the other supplies well out of reach. “Oh,” he says, not sure exactly what he’s looking at. “Um, should I . . . sleep on one of the cots?” It’d be uncomfortable, but he’d rather shiver through a night curled up on a too-small bed than go back to the cabin alone.

She rolls her eyes at him and wriggles to the side, unzipping the bag halfway. “Get in before you let all the warm out.”

Oh. His face flushes hot and he has to look down at his feet for a moment to compose himself.

Well, he’s hardly going to refuse, is he?

It’s a bit of a close fit, but he manages to slide in alongside her. She turns onto her side, slinging one arm over his waist and resting her cheek on his shoulder. “Is this okay?” she mumbles, already sounding like she’s halfway to falling asleep.

He has to swallow twice before he can answer. “Y-yes. This is fine.” He can already tell that it’ll get unbearably warm soon -- Gwen’s pressed against his side and radiating heat like a furnace -- but her weight on his chest is solid and comforting and he knows he won’t be moving an inch until the sun rises, not unless she tells him to.

She’s quiet for long enough that he thinks she’s fallen asleep.

“Sorry.”

It’s so soft he freezes in the darkness, trying to figure out if that was his imagination or not. When she lifts her head, nothing more than a black vaguely-Gwen-shaped blob, he recovers and says, “Why?”

“I know this whole pre-summer hot chocolate thing is really important to you. It kinda sucks that I ruined it.”

“You didn’t ruin anything!” He sits up on his elbows, tentatively reaching out to stroke her hair. His fingertips brush against her forehead and she ducks slightly, letting him pet her hair without poking an eye out. “I know it hasn’t exactly started yet,” he says, flopping back down so she can rest her head on his shoulder again, “but I think this might be the best summer ever.”

“You say that every summer.”

He smiles up at nothing. “And I mean it every summer.”

There’s silence for a moment, then he feels her press a light kiss against his neck. “Call me optimistic, but you might be onto something this year, anyway.”

“Wow,” he says, blowing out a huff of air. “Admitting I’m right three times in one day. I hope it doesn’t keep up like this or I’ll get a swelled head!”

He doesn’t have to see her face to know she’s glaring at him, and that small knowledge makes him indescribably happy. “No danger of that happening.”

“I know.” It’s one of his favorite things about her.

Her breathing evens out as she falls asleep, soft and slightly nasal. It’s another sound he associates with his time spent at Camp Campbell, although never so close, never with her hair tickling his cheek and her hand splayed over his heart like she’s protecting it. He’s used to letting her breathing lull him to sleep from across the room -- but he thinks he could get used to this, if he has the chance.

(He’d like the chance to get used to this.)

David closes his eyes and enjoys the last moments of peace they have, before the kids arrive and the camp explodes into a delightful frenzy of sound and chaos.

Let the summer begin.

#campcamp #camp camp roosterteeth #gwenvid #cc david #cc gwen #gwenvidweek #gwenvidweek2020 #forestwriting

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rbbalmung · 4 years ago

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Pokemon SwSh GPL AU: Get to know _____

I mentioned yesterday that I would go more into why I like Bea and Bede as a pair, and this is how I’ll do it! Quick notes for newcomers: I’ve aged up the main cast a bit so instead of being 10-12, they’re 16-17 (as an adult, I cannot fathom a 10 year old living on their own for a year). I head cannon Bede as 17 and Bea as 18, so they’re only about a year apart in age. I think I’m gonna call them Pinkpunchshipping? Thoughts? I’m open to workshopping the name.

Original prompt by some-imaginative-otp-imagines:

Get to Know Bea x Bede (Ship name still being determined):

1: Who spends almost all their money on the other? Bede. 100% Bede. I don’t see Bea as someone who would show affection through gifts, but Bede is the complete opposite. He is constantly bringing her little sweets as pick-me-ups.

2: Who sleeps in the other’s lap? Bede will sleep with his head in Bea’s lap all the time. It’s hard not to nod off when she’s playing with his fluffy head of hair.

3: Who walks around the house half-naked and who yells at them to put on some clothes? Bea, probably, but not in a seductive way? She works out a lot, so it is common for her to come home after a long workout and immediately get out of her sweaty clothes. Bede doesn’t yell at her because he gets too flustered whenever it happens (how these two got together in the first place is a mystery to everyone).

4: Which one tells the other not to stay up all night and which one stays up all night anyway? Bea is a morning person and Bede is a night person. They’ve tried to adjust it so that they wake up and go to bed together but gave up after an irritable week. As long as Bede is around when Bea goes to sleep and Bea doesn’t wake him up at the crack of dawn, they’re good.

5: Which one tries to make food for the other but burns it all by accident and which one tells them that it’s okay and makes them both cookies? Bea can cook one thing and it is ramen. They are damn lucky that Opal forced Bede to learn how to cook, otherwise it would be takeout every night.

6: Which one reads OTP prompts and says “Oh that’s us!” and which one goes “Eh, not really”? Neither. Bea is a realist and Bede is an individualist that doesn’t like being compared to other people.

7: Which one constantly wears the other’s clothes? On stay-at-home days, Bede will borrow one of Bea’s oversized hoodies to wear (his sense of fashion means he gives up comfort for beauty, so he owns next to no sweats). Bea thinks it’s adorable and teases him all the time for it.

8: Which one spends all day running errands and which one says “You remembered [thing], right?” Okay, stick with me on this one. I think that they almost always do errands together because, early in their relationship, they would always buy the wrong thing for the other. Going shopping together started as something they had to do as a pair, but now I think it’s just a lowkey way to spend time together.

9: Which one drives the car and which one gives them directions? Bea would drive, Bede would give directions. She is better at staying focused for long periods of time and he’s better at planning ahead.

10: Which one does the posing while the other one draws? Bea would definitely draw Bede. Bea picked up sketching to de-stress from Honey, so it is incredibly likely that Bede would be an eventual model for her (it’s not like she starts sketching him constantly when she recognises her feelings for him and nearly bursts into flames when he finds her sketchbook. That would be silly).

11: If they were about to rob a museum, which one does backflips through lasers and which one is strolling behind with a bag of chips? My first thought was that obviously Bea would be the backflipper, but the more I thought about it, the more I realised Bede would be the backflipper. He is so freaking extra about everything. OF COURSE he would try to show off.

12: Which one of your OTP overdoes it on the alcohol and which one makes the other stop drinking? Bede is a casual drinker, so his tolerance is pretty high. Bea hardly drinks, so it only takes her about 2 shots to get drunk. Bede tries to get her to take it easy, but if someone (like Raihan) challenges her, she will not back down. There hasn’t been a New Years Eve party that Bede hasn’t carried Bea home.

14: Which one keeps accidentally using the other’s last name instead of their own? Bea. It takes separation and a lot of long talks for her to realise that her home life was very toxic. The only reason she decides to take Bede’s last name when they get married is to spite her parents.

15: Which one screams about the spider and which one brings the spider outside? Bede 100% is freaked out by bug pokemon, but he tries to play if off like he isn’t scared.

16: Which one gives the other their jacket? I feel like it depends on the situation. Space Heater Bea is never cold, so if it’s chilly, Bede is the one getting the jacket. However, Bede will give Bea his jacket as a form of comfort if he senses something is off.

17: Who keeps getting threatened by the other’s overprotective older sibling (or a similar figure)? Bea is very intimidated by Opal. They are complete opposites when it comes to personality other than their shared competitiveness. Bea is convinced that Opal hates her (Opal actually really likes Bea, she just would rather die than tell her that).

18: Who’s the first one to admit they have feelings for the other? Oh my god, when I say it took forever for one of them to confess, I mean three whole years of hopeless pining. Neither of them are good at talking about their feelings, so they’ll try to find subtle ways to confess to the other. Unfortunately, they are also as dense as each other when it comes to romance. I think Bede would eventually get so frustrated that he blurts it out, then immediately tries to take it back. Thankfully, Bea was too stubborn to let him.

19: How good would your OTP be at parenting? Terrible. Absolutely terrible. I think they would definitely try their hardest if it ever happened, but I also don’t really see them having children?

20: Which one types with perfect grammar and which one types using numbers as letters? Bede = Perfect Grammar. Extra dramatic. Will call someone out if they send him a spelling error. Bea = short, chaotic sentence fragments. Bede tried calling her out on it once but she shut him down real fast.

21: Who gets attacked by a bully and who protects them? They are both SUPER protective people, so I like to think they take turns. Bea tends to scare them off by fighting them, and Bede destroys people with his words.

22: Who makes the bad puns and who makes a pained smile every time the other makes a pun? Bede has definitely picked up some dramatics from Opal’s training. Whenever the occasional “pink” pun slips into his sentences, Bea has to try very hard not to comment on it.

23: Who comes home from work to see that the other one bought a puppy? If Bea finds a stray pokemon, she will hold onto it until it can be returned to its owner. She also catches a lot more fighting pokemon than she will every need and goes camping with them once a week. 6 pokemon Bede cannot relate.

24: Which one gives the other a piggyback ride when they’re tired? Oh my gosh, neither. It’s not that they wouldn’t give the other a piggy back: Both are too prideful to ask for one, so they mostly just end up leaning heavily on the other until they return home.

25: Which one competes in some sort of activity and which one does the overzealous cheering? Bea gets waaayy to into Bede’s pokemon matches. She will scream at the TV (or from the audience if she is in Ballonlea that day) until she is hoarse. Bede gets really embarrassed, but it's because he’s flattered.

26: Who takes a selfie when the other one falls asleep on their shoulder? Bede. I mentioned earlier that Bea falls asleep faster than Bede (unless his head is on her lap), so he has a secret folder of photos on his phone with the two of them cuddling together. Bea knows he has this folder and will get incredibly flustered if it’s brought up.

27: Which one would give the other a makeover if they asked? BEDE. He wants nothing more than to give his sporty girlfriend a high fashion makeover. Bede thinks she’s beautiful, of course, but he just wants to see what it would look like. One year on his birthday, she humors him and he is BUZZING WITH EXCITEMENT.

28: Which one owns a pet that the other is absolutely terrified of? Bede is super intimidated by some of Bea’s pokemon. (Bea is intimidated by his type advantage against her, but that’s different).

29: Which one holds the umbrella over both of them when it rains? Bede. He’s taller and insists on being a gentleman.

30: If your OTP went on vacation, where would they go and what would they do? Who would take the pictures? I feel like they would go to Kalos. Bede would insist they visit the boutiques while Bea made sure they hiked in the mountains. Bede would take the pictures, but Bea would sketch a lot.

#pokemon #pokemon sword and shield #GPL AU #pokemon headcanons #bede x bea #pinkpunchshipping #beade #pokemon bede #swsh bede #bede #rival bede #gym leader bea #swsh bea #pokemon bea #bea #Pastel boyfriend x buff girlfriend

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fallen420 · 4 years ago

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Rebel Spy - Chapter 6: A Simple Supply Run

Description: Auroras life becomes lonely after the war ends but when a familiar Mandalorain needs her help who is she to refuse.

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Playlist

"Okay Okay, I got a story for you," I laugh as Mando and I sit at the table during another sleepless night.

"Let's hear it," Mando says.

"Okay, so we had been at the bar all night. So were stumbling out drinks still in hand. The streets are empty and it's just us and my friend decided they want to steal a street sign." Mando titles his head, "Okay I decided I wanted a street sign. So anyway we're trying to climb up the sign to take it down but we were drunk so we could barely walk. And then these alarms go off and it's loud. When we turn around there's a droid cop. So my friend in panic throws his glass on the ground I mean glass and alcohol go everywhere and he yells Scatter!" I laugh at the memory, "Okay so then we book it all different directions. And of course, the stupid droid ends up follow me." I start laughing thinking about it

Mando laughs lightly, "What did you do?"

"I ran to an ally and threw a rock at its head."

"Of course you did."

"Next thing I remember I'm waking up in my room with a pounding headache." He chuckles, I sit up, "We were so young and-"

"Stupid."

"Oh shut up target practice."

"Long time ago." He reminds me.

"You would have loved Alderaan, this prompts a head tilt, " You wouldn't like all the people but uh we could get you a cabin on the mountains. Not the snowy ones though the ones with the patches of green. Hypothetically of course 'cause it's...gone." I whisper the last part. I look up at him, "Sorry didn't mean to kill the mood."

"Don't apologize cyar'ika."

I want to ask what it means but I know he won't tell me. Instead, I look into his visor and say, "I bet you have brown eyes." I rest my chin in my hand.

"What makes you say that?"

"I don't know. It just feels right. Plus I've uh always preferred brown eyes."

He looks-I think- into my brown eyes, "So do I."

I could of died right then and there.

"Oh," I breathe out.

He places his gloveless hand on top of mine and I stop breathing altogether.

He's about to say something and then the kid starts crying. We both sigh, "I should get that."

"Yeah," much to my disappointment he stands up, removing his hand, and walking back to his room. "Good night cyar'ika."

"Good night."

I climb onto the cot and the second I do the kid stops crying, "I can't believe that you would do that to me." I whisper to the kid and he has the audacity to giggle at me. "Don't laugh at me I will toss you off this cot."

I look in the mirror at injuries to my face. My nose as pretty much healed and there are faint bruises on my eyes and check. I touch along the bruises wincing a little at the pain. I've had worse. A lot worse. But it's been a long time since I've taken a punch to the face.

Ever since it happened however Mando has been a little overprotective. I mean he follows me around every scared it's gonna happen again.

I walk out of the fresher and he's sitting at the table cleaning his blasters, "I need to make a supply run."

He doesn't even look up, "No."

"We're not gonna make it to the next planet."

"We'll be fine."

"No we won't unless you're planning on starving."

"We won't starve."

"Are you gonna hunt us some food? Mando, we have like 3 rations left."

"I'll go."

"What kind of food does the kid like to eat?"

Ever since I got here he hasn't had to worry about that stuff. Yes this kid loves eating whatever frogs are outside but he also makes me buy a specific kind.

"You're not going alone."

"It'll take me less than an hour." No response, "Mando, we need food, water, clothes, and to refill our med kit." Nothing, "I can take care of myself."

"I'm going with you."

"Don't you think that'll draw attention?"

"I can't risk you getting taken again."

"Well, actually when you think about I got taken at the ship so it might be safer for me to go on a quick supply run."

"Aurora, I'm serious."

"Fine but we're gonna have to bring the kid 'cause I don't trust him here alone."

I hold onto the kid as we walk into the nearest city.

"What do we need?" Mando asks.

"Everything."

"Everything?"

"We're literally out of everything."

He sighs, "Don't let your guard down there are people out there looking for us."

"Got it."

The city is full of life. There are vendors, shops, people are everywhere. I want to look at everything.

I walk over to a booth full of jewelry. My eyes glance over the shiny accessories.

"I thought we were here for important stuff."

"This is important."

I spot a booth with flower crowns and I speed walk over there, "You get distracted easier than the child."

"Shut up target practice."

"Stop calling me that."

I pick up a pink and white very simple pink and white flower crown, "How much?" I ask the vendor.

"Three credits." I take the credits out of my pocket and give them to the vendor. "Thank you."

I smile and place the crown on my head, "Let's go."

"Dried frogs?"

"Yes, they're the kids favorite." The kid coos at the sight of them, "See?" Mando pays for the food and we leave the shop, "Okay we got everything we can head back to the razor crest now. I mean I did however see a restaurant earlier."

"Aurora-"

"Come one I haven't had a good meal in weeks."

"Fine."

I smile in success

As we walk to the restaurant people move out of our way, "Okay, I could definitely get used to people staying from me."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean people automatically move out of our way and weird guys don't hit on me."

"Does that happen to you a lot?"

"Not since I started hanging out with a Mandalorian. Here it is!" I walk into the restaurant. Mando walks in behind me and everyone stares. I ignore it and I sit in the nearest booth.

I put the kid down in between me and the wall. Mando sits across from us.

"What can I get you?" The waiter asks starring at Mando a little too long.

"Bone broth for the kid and a sandwich for me."

"How about you?" She practically coos at Mando.

Oh no not again. That feeling is back. I gotta stop this, he's a Mandalorian its probably against their code anyway.

"Aurora?" I hear pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Mhm?"

"You okay there? You dozed off."

"Uh fine just uh thinking."

"About?"

You.

"Nothing." The kid starts to coo before climbing into my lap once he gets settled he giggles, "Little womp rat."

"He likes you."

"You would think so he never leaves me alone," I say with a laugh. I look down at his big eyes and his big ears, "Maybe I like him too." The waiter brings us our food lingering for a little too long. I had the kid his tiny bowl and I take a bite of my food, "She likes you."

"No, she doesn't."

"Really? Then why is she staring?"

"Maybe she hasn't seen a Mandalorian before."

"Or maybe she has a thing for them." He tilts his head, "What? Don't look at me like you know somebody does. I mean I wouldn't blame them."

No, it's his turn to get flustered. I smile before taking another bite.

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Have a thing for Mandalorian's?"

Before I can answer a man and a woman walk inside. They each have a tracking forb which start blinking at soon as they walk in.

"Shit."

"What?"

"Two bounty hunters. I'm almost certain those tracking forbs are for us."

"Let's go."

"Wait if we run out of here don't you think we'll draw attention to ourselves."

"Either way it's a bad idea."

"Okay, I'll go first you follow." I hide the kid in my jacket, slowly standing up, and walking out of there trying to draw the least amount of attention. Then the kid laughs, "Shh." But it's too late the bounty hunters already have their blasters drawn.

I draw mine and Mando draws his. The girl is pointing her's at me and the man has his pointed at Mando.

The waiters and customers either run out the door and hide under the tables and behind the bar.

"Let's make this easy," She says, "Give us the kid. No one gets hurt."

"No," Mando and I say at the same time.

"Suit yourself."

They both shoot. I get down and hid under the table in front of me. I hear more shooting. I come out and shoot the girl in the shoulder. She shoots at me again and I hide. I come out again to see Mando and the guy in a very intense fight.

Mando throws him across the room. He hits the wall knocking him out. This pisses off the girl she shoots Mando but it just bounces off his armor. I shoot her again this time in the leg. She falls to the ground in pain. I walk up behind her hitting her in the head with my blaster knocking her out. I grab the tracking forb off her hip and Mando gets his. We grab our stuff and go.

The walk back to the ship is mostly silent.

"Wait."

Mando stops walking and turns around, "What?"

"We didn't pay." He turns back to keep walking, "It's the least we could of done."

When we get back to the ship I put everything we bought away. I place the flower crown that someone said intake during the fight on my cot before going up to the cockpit.

"The tracking forbs?"

"Destroyed them?"

"Good." I sit down.

"The kid?"

"Asleep. He has a very eventful day." I yawn feeling the tiredness take over my body.

"You should some sleep too, cyar'ika."

Maybe its because I'm too tired to actually think but I finally ask him, "What does that mean?"

He stiffness, "Nothing."

"It's Mando'a right?"

"Yeah."

"Then what does-"

"It doesn't mean anything."

"Fine but I'll get it out of you one day." I end up drifting off to sleep in the chair.

I crawl out of bed careful not to wake the sleeping women next to me. I put on a robe and walk onto the balcony. You could see the whole city from here. The busy streets. The people going on about their life.

"What are you doing?" She asks now standing behind me.

"Just enjoying the view."

We look back out onto the view together. Then we see a weird light in the sky.

"Hey what is that?"

Then nothing.

I wake up breathing heavily from the recurring nightmare. Mando turns around quickly, "What wrong?"

"Nothing just a uh- bad dream that's all."

I haven't dreamt about her in years. Why now?

"Oh. Do you wanna- talk about it?" he struggles to get that last part out.

"It's just sometimes I dream that uh I was on Alderaan when it happened." I don't mention the girl I used to love because she's in the past and this is my future.

He thinks for a long time before saying, "You have survivors guilt. I uh had it too. You dream about it because you think you should of been there it should of been you instead. I used to get the same kind of dreams."

"Oh."

He says this part quieter, "You can't feel bad for things out of our control, cyar'ika."

Feedback is always appreciated :)

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x oc #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x oc #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x oc #oberyn martell #agent whiskey #paz vizla #baby yoda

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ghoulciifer · 4 years ago

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submission:

@msbyslut: “cloud here for a hq boy matchup! ☁️ i'm around 5'8, have dark hair and blue greenish eyes. my favorite color is pink! my aesthetic is anything soft and i love sanrio. 🥺 outside of writing as a hobby, i draw and paint! i also love traveling. i look for security but i get bored easily, so i tend to gravitate towards people who are passionate and a bit spontaneous. anyone who i can joke around with and keeps me laughing for hours. oh and happy 100 tum bby! you deserve it all. 💗”

notes: hi honeybun, thank you so much for your support ❥ i’m very grateful to have you and your wonderful brain as a mutual, you’re literally the sweetest person and you sound like an adorable little cinnamon roll. i hope you like your discount atsumu matchup! muah! ❥

why i matched you:

» okay, we all know terushima can come off as a bit of a fuckboy (*coughkiyokoscenecough*) BUT we did see how he acts on the court - this boy is just a big bundle of energy who wants to have fun! i firmly believe he uses that ‘ladies man’ act to hide just how much a dork he is. but, once he realizes you actually want to stick around, you’ll see firsthand just how much of a goofball he really is, and beneath that suave facade is a good guy who wants nothing more than to give his heart to someone who’ll take care of it. and that’s where you come in!

» terushima loves your creativity and how easy it is for you to express yourself through whatever art platform you use. he’ll beg you to let him read your writing, get a sneak peak at your latest sketch, ‘paint him like one of your french girls’, etc. he just wants to support you! he’s a firm believer in self expression and knows it’s a huge confidence booster when someone shows intrugue in whatever he’s doing, so he’s going to do whatever he can to make sure you know he’s genuinely interested in everything you do.

» baby, you’re almost too soft for this boy. he swears if you were any cuter you would be the death of him, but would he want to go any other way? absolutely not. he finds your love of all things pink and cutesy incredibly adorable. so much so that he can’t help but buy things that remind him of you when he comes across them, or even if you show the slightest bit of interest in them. that cute little gudetama pillow you saw online the other day? he’s got it ordered, it’ll be here friday. that set of kuromi and melody socks he saw in a store window at the mall? he swooped in and got ‘em for you. boy will spoil you to no end because he just wants to see your cute lil’ face light up when he gives you those gifts!

» teru is more than willing to drop everything and go anywhere you want, at any time at all. he also shares your wanderlust and eventually wants to see the world, whether it be watching the sun set over the glittering waters of italy’s canals or watching it rise above the mountains of peru, he’s gonna do whatever he can to make sure you’re by his side to share those experiences. because what better way to take in all the world has to offer than to do it with the one you love?

» like i said before, terushima often presents himself as a bit of a womanizer before pursuing any type of relationship, but once he finds someone he can actually see himself giving his time to? you’re stuck with him. boy will NOT leave your side unless you explicitly told him you never wanted to see him again. he’s going to be hesitant at first, but when he finally opens up, he truly bares his heart and gives you full consent to hold it within the palm of your hand. he’ll only get to that point when he knows without a shadow of a doubt he trusts you, and that you trust him. so as far as security goes? terushima’s got you covered.

» and again, teru’s a HUGE dork. like he almost rivals kuroo on this one because he craves entertainment 24/7, and never fails to make those around him giddy with laughter or anticipation of what’ll come out of his mouth next. he’s serious when he needs to be, but when it’s just the two of you alone, he’ll have you constantly gripping your sides in laughter, and you’re certain to get a good ab workout every time because he’s never not doing something that’ll make you giggle to the point of wheezing. sometimes he feels like he’s too much of a silly hooligan but you’re always the first to remind him that’s what you love about him the most. terushima is definitely one to keep you on your toes, so i hope you’re ready for that challenge!

drabble:

“Yuuji, what’s all this?” Your hand slides off the handle on your front door, eyes wide and skimming across your living room to take in the scene before you.

“Sh-Shit! Uh… Surprise?”

You were aware your boyfriend would be home before you, but what you didn’t expect was to walk into a cheesy, teenage romance movie.

Terushima was sheepishly rubbing the back of his head with a throw pillow in his other hand, casually tossing it onto the sofa already smothered in pillows and blankets that weren’t there before. The coffee table was piled high with an array of snacks ranging from your favorite baked goods to a partly opened box of pizza, and a tin bucket filled to the brim with ice and canned drinks sat flush against one of the table’s legs. The entire living area was bathed in a soft glow from fairy lights strung up haphazardly across the walls and the smell of strawberries and cream wafted in the air from the scented candles resting on the end tables beside the couch. It was all so much, and it made your heart melt just thinking about how much time and effort this must’ve taken your lover to set up.

“Baby, I-...” Your eyes finally return to Terushima’s nervous gaze and you instinctively bring a hand to cover your mouth, tears gathering below your lash line. The second he saw the familiar twitch of your furrowing brow he nearly leapt over the coffee table to reach you.

“Hey, heyheyhey, I can clean it all up, I promise I didn’t mean to make such a big mess. And I can take the lights down if you don’t like the-“ Teru panics when he catches your tears slipping down your cheeks, but you’re quick to cut him off with a quick, sweet kiss before he completely loses it. You wrap your arms around his neck and bury your nose into the space below his jaw, while his hands find purchase against your hips, pulling you impossibly closer to fully indulge in the sudden affection.

“Yuuji, I love it… how did you-...?” You pull back after a moment, hands rising to his neck and thumbing the curve of his jawline. You lose the sentence halfway through, the surprise finally settling in leaving you at a loss for words.

Your boyfriend smiles, nuzzling your temple with the top of his nose in relief, “You told me earlier how bad work was stressing you out, so I took the rest of the day off and put together a little movie night for you. I wanted you to be able to relax when you got home.” His lips leave a chaste kiss to your cheekbone, “I, uh-... just wasn’t expecting you to get here so soon.”

You giggle at his remark - of course the one day you manage to leave early you walk in on his surprise. But as you take another long look at the dreamy layout around you, you couldn’t help but be glad you got here when you did. You didn’t realize you needed this until it was right here in front of you. Now all that was left was to enjoy it.

“Thank you… It’s perfect.”

Too engrossed in your gift, you don’t seem to catch the loving look Terushima was casting down at you, smile growing wider as his response leaves his lips.

“Yea… it really is.”

matchups are CLOSED! thank you to those who entered or have been keeping up with this event! remember you can check to see updates on matchups + if your matchup has been posted via the #tumplaysmatchmaker tag!

#tumplaysmatchmaker #cloud.matchup #haikyuu matchups #terushima x reader #terushima yuuji #terushima yuuji x reader #terushima matchup #terushima yuuji matchup #terushima fic #terushima yuuji fic #nishiikun’s events #haikyuu matchup #haikyuu

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peraltasames · 5 years ago

Text

that would be enough

It’s an amazing opportunity and, frankly, one that he would take with no hesitation if it weren’t for his incredible, beautiful wife and the baby she has been growing inside her for three months. That’s a pretty big ‘if’.

(in which jake gets offered another fbi job and he has a seemingly impossible decision to make - which maybe isn't really so difficult after all.)

read on ao3

After working a double, during which he arrested a major drug kingpin and helped Rosa and Charles find a suspect in their homicide case, Jake is: A) feeling pretty pleased with himself, and B) more than ready to get home to his wife and bring her some Polish comfort food (they’ve ordered from them so much lately that they’re on a first name basis with their delivery guy).

It’s super unlike him that he even stops to check his email on his way out of the precinct, but he’s so used to waiting for Amy to do it that it’s become a habit at this point. Aside from an exciting announcement about an upcoming sneaker sale at an outlet mall upstate, there’s only one unopened item in his inbox. It’s an encrypted message from Captain Kim, whom he hasn’t spoken to since she finally accepted his long series of apology emails (accompanied by a fruit basket, Amy’s suggestion) and the subject line simply reads Job Opportunity.

It’s brief, but the gist is simple: there’s an undercover operation in the works, they think he’s the right person for the job, it would be a great opportunity and an excellent way for him to get his foot in the door for a potential higher-up position in the FBI. The rest is a little more murky - it’s potentially very dangerous (she can’t go into detail in an email, obviously, but he’s willing to bet it’s got something to do with one of the crime families that have been gradually moving their operations from Manhattan into Brooklyn). It could also take months. She urges him to take time to seriously consider the position, and to contact her as soon as he comes to a decision.

He’s so lost in his own thoughts for the entirety of his commute home that he actually forgets to pick up dinner, which he realizes the moment he opens the door and sees Amy reclined on the couch reading her third pregnancy book of the week, all four of their designated “living room blankets” draped over her.

“Oh my god, I forgot the food,” he blurts out, startling Amy and making her drop the book on her lap. “I’ll just run back out and grab it, sorry, I-”

“Babe, wait-” She jumps up from her perch on the couch and carefully places the book on the coffee table. As she crosses the room to meet him in the doorway, his eyes flit to her barely noticeable but steadily growing baby bump. Their baby. Their baby that needs him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he mutters, avoiding her gaze as he shifts back and forth. “I just forgot the food so I’m just gonna head out real quick-”

“We can just order, Jake, I can wait,” she assures him with a warm smile. Pregnant Amy is usually - to put it in the most favourable term possible - less than patient when it comes to food, so he can tell right away that she either really missed him or can tell something’s bothering him.

She wraps her arms around his neck and leans up onto her tiptoes to kiss him hello, and judging by the intensity of her kiss and how tightly she’s squeezing him he figures it was the first one and he’s in the clear of having to talk about all that for at least a few minutes.

“Did something happen at work, babe?”

Damn it, so close.

“Why do you ask?”

“You’re super tense,” she frowns, rubbing his shoulders as she shifts back down to her normal height. “And you won’t look me in the eye.”

She places her hand on his cheek and gently guides his gaze to hers, forcing him to make eye contact with her, and some combination of her touch and the impossibly tender, concerned look she’s giving him causes him to cave instantly.

“Um, can we talk?” He gestures to the couch, where her mountain of blankets have been abandoned, and she nods quickly.

They settle in on the comfortable sofa, the first purchase they made together when her apartment became theirs. They’ve had god-knows-how-many important conversations and lazy Sunday afternoon cuddles and heated post-date makeout sessions when they just couldn’t make it all the way to the bedroom on this couch. He’s willing to bet that they conceived their child on this couch three months ago, though an argument could be made for the shower that morning or their bed later that evening as well.

Amy tucks her legs behind her and turns to face him, reaching out to rest a hand on his thigh and waiting for him to speak.

“Remember how Captain Kim mentioned a potential FBI liaison position for me?”

Amy nods and sits up straighter, her eyes brightening. “Did the FBI offer you a job?”

“Not exactly.” He scratches his head, searching for the right words. “Captain Kim recommended me for an undercover mission with the FBI. She made it seem like - uh, if it went well I could be offered something more permanent with them.”

Amy pauses for a moment, clearly deep in thought. “That could be life-changing.”

“I know, but Ames, it, um-” He sighs. “The job sounds a lot like last time I went undercover.”

Her grip on his thigh seems to tighten, perhaps subconsciously, as she stares fixedly at the book left forgotten on the coffee table. He can imagine her train of thoughts; last time he went undercover it was six months with an incredibly dangerous crime family and he could’ve died a bunch of times. They may not have been together at the time, but their mutual yearning was only amplified by the painfully long separation. They’ve been no strangers to painfully long separations since - god, he would do anything to have every night he spent in the Florida heat or a chilly jail cell back and get to relive each one of them in her arms instead.

He reaches out to grab her hand with both of his. “Ames-”

Before he can get any further, she shrugs him off and walks purposefully towards their bedroom. He’s terrified he’s going to hear the sound of a slamming door that he associates so strongly with being a helpless kid watching his parents’ relationship fall apart and never connects to his own marriage, but it never comes.

She returns moments later with her trusty notebook and a pen in hand, sitting back down next to him and beginning to write.

“What are you doing?”

She doesn’t look up at him. “It’s an important decision. We need a pro/con list.”

Jake sighs. “Honey, can we just talk about it?”

“We are talking about it,” she deadpans. “We’ll start with the easy stuff. Pro: you could get your dream job.”

As soon as she’s done writing, Amy looks over to him, which he takes to mean that it’s now his turn.

“Okay. Con: I could be gone for three to six months, a.k.a. when you could literally be giving birth to our child.”

“But you could do it in three,” she counters. “Pro: you could make more money at a new job, which we obviously need more than ever.”

“Con: I could mess up the job somehow and not be recommended for the new position.”

Amy doesn’t write that one down, and he raises an eyebrow.

“It wouldn’t happen, you’re too good at your job.”

His heart swells at her quiet but reverent tone, and she doesn’t pull away when he reaches to grab her hand again.

“Okay, your turn, then,” he prompts.

She stares at the paper intently, and her hand holding the pen begins to tremble as her gaze shifts over to the con column. He almost knows what she’s going to say before she says it, because it’s only natural for the mind to go to the worst-case scenario in situations like these. Still, it’s hard for him to stomach the mere thought of leaving her all alone, especially now.

“You could get hurt,” she mumbles shakily under her breath. Her watering eyes begin to shed fully-formed tears, falling steadily on her grey t-shirt. “I-I could lose-I could lose you-”

She’s cut off by a small sob, her fists clenching around the material of the blanket as her entire body starts to shake. Amy crying isn’t rare, and pregnant Amy crying is an even more frequent occurrence, but seeing her cry over anything more than a spilled yogurt cup is too much for him to take. Jake’s heart feels like it’s cracking in two, but his instincts overpower his own sadness and he reaches for her immediately. She falls into his chest the moment his hands reach her and her sobs increase in volume as she clutches at his shirt.

“That’s never gonna happen, baby,” he whispers against her hair in-between quick, healing kisses everywhere his lips can reach. “Shh, you’re not gonna lose me.”

“You - you can’t promise that.”

“I am promising you that. I’m gonna call Captain Kim first thing Monday morning and respectfully decline the offer. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

She pulls away from him, shaking her head quickly.

“I can’t ask you to do that. It’s too good of an opportunity, being a detective won’t be enough for you forever and this job is your dream-”

“You didn’t ask me to, Ames, and it’s not. You and our little lemon-sized-as-of-this-morning baby are my dream, okay? You’re not just enough, you’re everything - more than everything I could have ever dreamed of. Okay?”

Amy wipes her tears away, but there are already new ones forming in her eyes. She looks at him with so much trust, and he knows now, even more than he did five seconds ago, that he could never put himself in harm’s way again unless absolutely necessary.

She finally cracks a small smile, nodding slowly.

“More than everything of which you could ever have dreamt.”

Jake frowns. “Huh?”

“You ended a sentence with a proposition. It should be ‘more than everything of which you could ever have dreamt.’”

He laughs softly, cupping her face and wiping the remaining tears away. “That’s my girl.”

She tucks herself back into his embrace and squeezes his arm tightly as the other one wraps around her waist.

“Are you sure about this?”

Jake nods against her head, his free hand stroking her hair.

“I think I kind of knew what my answer was as soon as I read the email. I used to get so excited about these crazy life-or-death missions, but now…”

“No more ’eyes closed, head first, can’t lose?’” she supplies, smiling up at him.

The memory of walking away from her in a parking lot, the weight of his confession hanging in the air as he left knowing he might never see her again, stings a bit. He wishes he could tell that version of himself that had never really experienced true love and happiness how much he would have to live for someday.

“Who woulda thought that guy would be a dad?” Jake laughs.

Amy snuggles further into him, kissing the spot on his hoodie that rests over his heart. “You’re gonna be the best dad. I love you so much.”

He’s filled with a surge of warmth, both from her embrace and words of love, and the knowledge that he will do everything in his power to be the best dad. He will stick around and he will do everything in his power to make their child as happy as they can be and he will give every ounce of unconditional love and support in his body. He will be better than his father, better than his past self, better every day than he was the day before.

“I love you,” he kisses her cheek, “and you”, his hand grazes her belly (he’s been eagerly anticipating a kick, though she reminds him it could be weeks or even months before they feel anything), “so much.”

She shifts to properly kiss him, and he gladly welcomes it with a hand on her back pulling her closer and the other still tangled in her hair. When she pulls away and smiles at him, he feels like all the weight of the world has been lifted off his shoulders.

“Can we order dinner now?” she pleads, breaking the tranquility of the moment, but with good reason. “I’m actually starving.”

“Good idea, Tomak is going to get super worried if he doesn’t hear from us soon.”

He pulls his phone from his pocket and goes straight to his recent calls, ordering enough pierogis to feed a small army (or one pregnant Amy) and a couple of hot chocolates, and they seamlessly fall into their routine of selecting whatever they’re currently binging on Netflix (right now it’s The Crown), getting cozy, and waiting for Tomak’s arrival.

This, forever, will always be more than enough for him.

#we BACK ladies #💕💕#i'm sry my first fic of the season is a lil angsty but it's really not that bad #jake x amy #b99 spoilers #maybe ??#anyways hope u like it <3

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