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jedifarmerr · 1 year

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Chapter 6

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader/OFC (no y/n or physical descriptions)

Rating: E (18+ blog)

Word Count: over 4k

Chapter Warnings: language, smut, very very light dom/sub undertones, pregnancy, anxiety, nightmares, discussions of parent death. (let me know if I missed anything)

Series Masterlist

Javier watched her eyes light up as she walked into the nursery. Her hand slid across the smooth white wood, clearly surprised to come home to this. She had only been gone a couple hours. Prenatal yoga, dinner afterwards with some ladies in the same class.

All the while, Javier’s Saturday night was spent hunched over vague directions. His knees ached. He’d squinted so much that it made his crow’s feet hurt. Clearly, the print was made with someone a decade younger than him in mind.

Instead of a regular standard crib, she had wanted something different – complicated. Circular cribs. He’d gotten tangled up in a flowy dual of sheer canopies. She’d thought they would be whimsical, fitting the theme: sweet dreams.

“Javi. I told you I would help.”

Javier rolled his eyes at her. Even if both his arms were broken, he would never let that happen.

At seven months pregnant, she was already uncomfortable enough without sitting on the hard ground for hours.

“I wanted to do it,” he assured her. Javier was never someone that liked to be bone-idle. For him, he needed to feel like he was actually doing something. This felt like the only way he could contribute.

They had moved in a month ago, and really this was the only room left to finish. So, he’d personally taken it on as his own project.

Last weekend, he painted over the custard yellow. A sage-y color; Granite Grey according to Benjamin Moore. Joe and him had lugged the changing table and dresser up the stairs. Luckily, those came practically assembled. Now, it was down to the little details.

Coming up behind her, Javier grasped her by the arc of her hips and pulled her flat against his chest. It was the only position that allowed him to get this close to her anymore.

He sighed as he nuzzled his nose into her neck, and inhaled. “Smell good,” he groaned.

“There’s no way. I’m all sweaty,” she protested, but that didn’t matter when he liked all her smells.

“So? I am too.” He kissed the nape of her neck then licked his lips. Salty. God – something was wrong with him.

His hands roamed across her belly as he perched his chin on her shoulder. Her belly button poked out from her shirt. Her beach-ball stomach was firm and swollen. He was weirdly obsessed with it. Slightly possessive about it.

His. His. His. Swirling around his mind.

“How’re they doing today?”

The babies responded to him with little kicks against his palm. Javier wouldn’t pretend to know the logistics of what was going on in there, but he liked to think somehow, someway they could recognize him. They always reacted to his voice. That couldn’t be purely coincidental.

Soon, the tiny kicks became a strong double wriggle. She winced at a particularly forceful one. Despite his primal instinct to hold on, he gave her space and let her go.

Still, his gaze stayed latched onto her. It seemed to be her shoulders, down to her lower back that was bothering her.

“Anything I can do?” He asked, wiggling his fingers into a loose fist at his side.

“Become a seahorse.” Her voice sounded like it came out of a clogged up pipe. She shut her eyes and paced around the room, working herself through the discomfort. Her yoga class had taught her helpful breathing techniques, calming exercises for times like this.

The tension drained from Javier’s shoulder when it finally seemed to pass.

“They’ve been really active today,” she explained, and Javier didn’t argue with her. If it was anything serious, he hoped she would tell him. She waddled to the door. “Have you eaten?”

He shrugged noncommittally. “I had a little something.”

Somehow she seemed to know that was code for a handful of chips around 6. She clicked her tongue at him. “Well, it’s a good thing I brought you back something then.”

A traitorous growl tore through his stomach. Theresa’s was some of the best Mexican food in Austin. It reminded him of his favorite spot in central Laredo. A hole-in-the-wall with top-tier mole.

“You’re too good to me,” he cooed at her, and she scoffed.

“You’re one to talk.” She swirled her finger around the room. “Now, go eat. I’ll be down after I shower.”

Javier did as he was told. Inside the styrofoam box was his order exactly how he liked it. She’d even remembered an extra thing of sauce on the side.

After scarfing down his food, they curled up on the couch and watched reruns of America’s Funniest Home Videos for the rest of night.

Showering before bed, Javier scrubbed a towel through his damp hair. “What’re you reading there?” He asked.

She showed off a bubblegum pink cover. The Ultimate Baby Name Book. Surprise, surprise. That seemed to be all she read nowadays.

Javier threw his towel in the hamper, turned on his bedside lamp, then joined her on top of the covers.

She tapped on the page. “What do you think of Eva?”

Eva Peña. He shrugged. Not too bad.

“Yeah. If you like it.”

That must have been the wrong answer since she clasped the book shut, her hands stacked over the cover. “Your opinion matters just as much as mine,” she reminded him.

“Does it?” He asked, but she didn’t laugh. Her expression cinched, and he supposed it was best to agree with her. “Alright. Eva’s fine, but let’s hear another.”

She licked her thumb and flipped through the book. Each page was marked up. Names he must’ve blown off were crossed out, very few were highlighted, even less of them starred.

“Okay. Gabriela?”

“No.” Fuck no.

“Good. Definitive. I like that. What about….Mia?”

Javier hesitated, and made a low, drawn out thinking noise. “I knew a lot of Mia’s growing up.”

“I get that,” she said, and her face suddenly contorted into a tight grimace.

Every muscle in his body went rigid, until he realized it was her shoulders – again. He'd caught her messing with them all night. He wouldn’t let her suffer any longer.

He didn’t give her a choice, and plucked the book from her, throwing it on the nightstand. Once the pillows were adjusted, his legs spread out, he patted the space between his thighs.

“Come here.”

She usually would put up a tiny fight – assure him she was fine. But not tonight. She simply crawled over without a word.

His hands scooped underneath the flimsy straps of her nightgown, and immediately set to work. Slow and steady. With the flat of his palm, he started chiseling away at the tension in her shoulders. She let out a low sound of relief, her head drooped forward like an over-loved stuffed animal.

“Oh, right there,” she moaned when he hit a particularly sensitive spot between her shoulder blades.

Laser-focused, his thumbs kneaded at the tight band of muscle, drawing little noises and sweet little whimpers. Each one burned hotter in the pit of his belly.

“Let me get your lower back. Lean forward a little for me, baby.”

He didn’t expect his cock to twitch when she let him guide her into position. His hand on the center of her back ran along the curve of her spine, admiring the shiny satin that stuck to her skin like spilled sangria. Pliant. So soft. If he wasn’t careful it could easily go to his head – both heads.

Her lower back was especially aggravated. A web of knots had spun themselves around her tailbone that even the tiniest bit of pressure made her pretty lips part, panting.

Her breath hitched, tensed as he began to uncoil one embedded deep underneath the surface.

“Relax. Let me take care of you.” His voice was low and tainted by his swelling arousal. Luckily, she seemed too lost in his dutiful hands to notice.

“Oh, Javi,” she choked out, digging her nails into his thighs. His quads flexed under her palms.

Desire was now swirling in his gut, and when he glanced down, his cock was tenting the baby blue cotton. But he kept ignoring it, and continued his ministrations until not an inch of her back went untouched.

“What hurts the most?” His breath fanned over her ear, and goosebumps erupted across her skin.

He wondered if she was as affected by this as he was. He was starting to think he would find her soaked underneath the hem of her sinfully teeny nightgown with how long it took for her to respond:

“Shoulders.”

He discreetly tucked his cock into his waistband before urging her to lay back. She sank into his body instantly. Her head lulled around the shadow of his collarbone. When his gaze dipped to her chest, he licked his lips as her swollen breasts strained the fabric with each heavy breath.

As he kneaded the tops of her shoulders, her legs unconsciously inched apart until her feet tangled up with his.

“Feel good?” He skimmed his lips over the sensitive spot, just behind her ear.

That seemed to make her brain fizzle out. She went to speak, but unable to form a coherent word, she simply whimpered. It stroked something primal deep inside him to have her like this.

Daring himself to go further, he snuck one hand around her and rested it on her thigh. Just below the hem, her hips automatically bucked.

Her skin burned against his palm, but he didn’t move his hand, only his thumb in slow, maddening circles. He intended to take his time, to draw this out. He wanted to make her so desperate, so needy that she begged for it.

He brushed his fingertips across her shoulder. Like a feather, sliding along the column of her neck. “Javi,” she said – breathless. Whiny. God – she was so sensitive. So responsive to him. It was driving him insane.

“What is it, baby?” Her neck bent to his whim as his fingers danced along her jaw. “Tell me.” He thumbed the hem of her dress.

She didn’t answer, only squirmed around. Her ass was mere inches from his cock when he tsked his tongue, gripped her thigh.

Even though she stopped, it didn’t come without a whine. “Javiiiii.”

Her lips formed a pout, which he traced with his thumb. She opened up like a flower, let him feed one finger, then two into her eager mouth.

Fuck – she was a vision.

He applied pressure to the flat of her tongue, slowly dragging his fingers up and down the length.

“Suck,” he ordered, and her lips instantly formed a tight seal around his knuckles. Her cheeks hollowed out, and the throaty, wet moan she gave hummed through his veins. She looked absolutely depraved. “Fuck - look at you. So greedy. You like this, don’t you?”

Hooded eyes – long, fluttery lashes. She nodded, pushing his fingers deeper into her warm wet mouth. She used to get so embarrassed when she would get like this. She would try and hide from him, but not anymore. He’d snuffed out the voices, until it was only his own.

Javier made a strangled, growling noise when she nearly choked on his fingers, taking him up into the point that she was drooling. A trail of spit dripping onto the tops of her breasts.

“Your damn mouth is fucking heaven.” She mewled at his praise. Grinding her hips into the thin air, the mattress squeaked under her hips. Vaguely, he wondered if he could make her come just like this. If he weren’t so aroused, he probably would have waited to see.

His hand roamed further up her thigh, and “Fuck,” he hissed, finding her thighs sticky and wet. He gathered what he could on his fingertips. “I haven’t even touched your pussy and look at that.”

Her slick glistened in the low lamp light. Gorgeous.

“I bet your panties are ruined, aren’t they?” He taunted her, and his fingers left her swollen lips with a pop. He smeared the excess spit all across her lips. “Should we see?”

She dumbly nodded, and angled her gaze to watch him slowly reveal herself to him. The dark spot on her cotton-candy pink panties made his cock throb painfully, his pants felt like a cage.

“Holy shit. You’re soaked.” He clasped her tighter to him, burrowed his face into her neck as he teased the lacey elastic band.

Her chest expanded with a cry of his name. It echoed in the safe-keeping of their bedroom. He had to keep one hand on her hip to keep her still when his fingers formed into a V and rasped across the cotton. The dips between his fingers just barely missed her clit with each stroke. Every time her body would tense, then shudder in disappointment – desperation.

The tip of his nose nuzzled into her plush cheek. “Want me to touch you?”

She swallowed, insistently nodding. He swore he heard her croak - yes.

“Then beg,” he forced the word through gritted teeth. “Beg and I’ll give it to you.”

“Oh fuck. Javi.” She cried out. “Please baby. God. I need it - I need you. Oh, please! Please.”

She kept babbling until he hooked his thumbs into her waistband, and she helped shimmy them off.“Hold your dress and spread your legs. Let me see you.”

There was no hesitation. She displayed herself for him, then peered up with a glazed, glossy look in her eyes. “Please,” she whimpered, and that was it.

He sealed his lips against her temple and started to gently circle her puffy clit. Her whole body convulsed, twitched. Even with a gossamer touch, she still moaned.

Months ago, he would have kept her like this for hours. Bring her to the edge over and over until she withered into sheets and prayed for release. One time, she swore she blacked out from her orgasm. It was one of his proudest accomplishments.

“Do you want more?” He asked, continuing to tease her clit, softly swirling the swollen bud.

She opened her mouth, but all that came out was nonsense. So, instead she bobbed her head.

“You want my fingers?” She nodded even faster. “Can you be good and keep still? Let me do the work - let me take care of you?”

She must have known he would want a verbal response because she swallowed. “I - I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask,” he hummed, then without any resistance, slid a single finger inside her. Her walls clamped around him, and he growled, wanting to feel her wrapped around his cock.

Soon.

After only a few moments, she was already begging for more. “I can take it. Please, Javi. I need it.”

“Yeah?” His deep chuckle rumbled around his chest. He didn’t wait for a response, and sunk two fingers into her, curling until he hit that sweet, spongy spot.

Her legs twitched, fighting to keep still as he sped up. The wet squelch was nearly enough to send him over the edge, and when he stretched her out with a third, he was about to burst. He could feel his cock leaking with each thrust, smearing around his skin and shorts as she trembled for more.

“Fuck, you’re so good. So good, baby.” He slowed down, but kept a steady pace. “You gonna let me use your pretty pussy? Wanna cum around my cock?”

“Oh shit - Javi. Please. Please. God - I wanna cum. Wanna - fuck.”

“Hands and knees or on top?”

She didn’t answer verbally, but crawled to the middle of the bed instead. She yanked off her dress before presenting herself. Ass up.

“Goddamn,” he grumbled under his breath, ripping off his shorts. He glanced down and he was way too fucking hard. His cock bobbed heavily against his stomach. The tip swollen and red as jasper.

He squeezed the base of his cock. His fingers biting into her ass as he spread her apart. Everything was wet and swollen and all his.

“Fucking beautiful.”

He teased his cock along her slippery slit. The fat head bumped against her clit, and she scrambled to fist the sheets. His jaw went slack, watching her cunt drip and clench around nothing.

“Shit - Javi.” She rocked back to try and catch even just the tip of him inside her. He snatched her by the hips, and held her in place.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Your cock,” she whined. “God, I want you to fuck me. Pleaseeee Javi!”

He praised her while lining himself up, then slowly buried himself inside her. He stared down as his cock completely disappeared. She was completely at his mercy. The thought made his cock twitch, and her pussy spasmed around him.

Throwing his head back, he squeezed his eyes shut until his own release receded. He withdrew, taking a second to admire the ring of slick around his dick before thrusting back in.

“Holy shit. So fuck - fucking good.” She purposely clenched and it was way too tight; his stomach swooped. “Oh shit. Baby, don’t do that.”

She gave a girlish little giggle. What a fucking menace.

“That funny to you?” He asked, snagging the blunt head of his cock against her g-spot. Her only reply came in moan muffled by the sheets. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

With a firm grasp on her hips, he fucked her with long, deep strokes that always hit the spot. Her walls spasmed with every rock of his hips. She sobbed from being right on the edge.

He knew exactly what she needed, but couldn’t give it to her. At least, not at this angle.

“Come here, baby.” He helped haul her upwards. Her tacky skin sealed against his chest. His fingers skated across her breasts, circled her neglected nipples. He wished he could play with them, bite them, suck them, tease them, but most of the time they were too sensitive for anything but a feathery touch. The line between pain and pleasure was razor-thin and too blurry.

Even now, the tiniest brush made her breath catch in her throat.

Finally, Javier started to toy with her clit. With his cock grinding up into her warm, wet pussy and his lips frantically mouthing at the column of her throat, the first touch made her nearly buckle. Her walls squeezed him even tighter, and he swore this was heaven.

Javier wet his lips. “Kiss me, come on. I need it, baby.” He didn’t care how desperate he sounded. He didn’t care about the awkward angle or how messy it was when her tongue lapped against his. She tangled her fingers into his hair and gave a sharp tug. Every nerve and cell in his body fired at the same time, and he knew this wasn’t gonna last much longer.

He drove his cock as deep as it could go. Their skin slapped together and she was leaking everywhere, down his thighs, dripping onto the sheets.

“Perfect pussy,” he growled, and pinched her clit, rolling it between his fingers. “Fuck. I can feel it. So tight. Oh, come on. Fuck.”

“Shit - Javi!” Her walls fluttered around him, and he clasped her against him right before her legs gave out.

She pulled away from his mouth, just enough to look into his eyes as he continued to split her open. The hand in his hair came to rest on his jaw; her thumb caressed over his cheek and it hooked on something deep in his chest.

He suddenly felt exposed. Vulnerable. Her eyes bore into his and he swore she could see inside him. She could see every crack and broken piece of him, and despite it - she still looked at him like that.

She still loved him.

There was a split-second where he felt like he couldn’t breathe. All of it became too much. All too much. His release licked across his skin, and swelled up inside him.

He made a low, punched out sound and buried his face into her neck. Lavender soap and soft skin. His own release took hold of him.

“That’s it baby,” her voice seeped in through the dull ringing in his ears. “Fill me up, Javi.” His hips stuttered, and he didn’t recognize the noises that came out of him. Grunts. A near sob without any tears.

He swore he’d never cum so hard in his life.

Finally, his lips started to move across her throat, along the nape of her neck. Soft, sleepy kisses like the ones she would give his fingertips before bed.

There was a strange part of him that felt like he should apologize, but he didn’t know for what exactly.

“Was that okay?” He asked before the guilt could fester and turn into an ugly, black mold inside him. His voice sounded weak – meager. Maybe it could pass as breathless.

“Javi.” He still didn’t look at her, didn’t even move. His cock was still inside her, softening. “Javier.”

That got his attention, and he drew back to find her eyes searching his. She seemed worried. “If it wasn’t okay, I would let you know. Alright?” She petted his cheek, “You always make me feel so good.”

“Now, you’re exaggerating.”

His cum spilled down her legs once he pulled out of her. He groaned as he plopped onto his back, palming the space between his brows.

She curled up beside him. “I’m serious, Javi. I liked it - a lot in fact.”

“Okay.”

She scooped up the strands of hair stuck to his forehead. “Did you like it?”

He hooked his arm around her, and kissed her on the nose. “Of course.”

They laid like that for a minute, her body enfolded on him. Even with her clasped against him, he couldn’t shake himself out of this. It only seemed to make the uncomfortable feeling settle deeper into his chest.

Terminal. A sense of finality.

He tugged her even closer, and tried to lose himself in the scent of her shampoo.

He told himself he was just tired. That was all this was.

---

Javier didn’t know what time it was, but it had to be well past midnight as the city was completely still, quiet aside from the recently awakened bugs.

There was a storm rolling in. Flashes of white lit up the dark sky as he inhaled another drag of his cigarette. Smoke smoldered in his throat, burning his lungs like a cheap glass of whiskey.

This was exactly what he needed. Fresh air. The sweet shallowness of a nicotine buzz.

For the most part he stuck to nicorette gum, but sometimes that shit didn’t cut it. He kept a carton of Marlboros stashed in his glove boxes for moments such as this.

The nightmares didn’t happen nearly as often as they once did. He supposed, in a way, he’d grown used to the torrent memories. The flashbacks. Colombia.

But tonight, it hadn’t been the sound of machine guns or war-torn streets that woke him up in a cold sweat.

It was her. All his dreams lately had been about her.

He was about half-way through his second cigarette when the sliding door opened. She was standing underneath the porch light, her satin robe shimmering. There was something so ethereal about her.

“Thought I might find you out here,” she said.

He gave a light chuckle; a trail of smoke wisped from the sides of his mouth, and he squished out the orange bulb. She knew about his smoking. She also knew what it meant when he did.

She insisted on joining him on the porch step. Even though it took her a minute to get down. The silence settled comfortably around them. She seemed content to just sit there until he was ready.

“It was just a bad dream,” he said, after a long moment.

“Was it about me?”

He didn’t answer, and instead stared out at the freshly-cut lawn. He’d assumed she had figured it out by now. There was no hiding anything from her. She could read him as easily as her go-to comfort book. The pages tabbed and torn, all marked up, but she cherished it nonetheless.

He couldn’t lose her.

Each doctor’s appointment set him on edge. Complications. High-risk. It reminded him of his mom and the bullshit medical jargon they used. They gave her two years and it took her in eight months.

Javier didn’t know how his dad did it. How he just continued to go on. How he lived in their house. If something happened to her, Javier couldn’t come back here. He didn’t even know how to live with an empty side of the bed anymore.

“Javi.” Her soft voice beckoned him back to her. Her eyes bore into him. The warmth of her body pressed against him. “I won’t promise anything I can’t keep. But, Javi I promise, I feel fine. I feel good. And if I ever think something is wrong, I’ll tell you. Okay?”

Javier cradled her face in his hands, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone. “Promise?”

“I swear. I swear, I will.”

Abruptly, he crushed his lips against her forehead, then slotted her right beside him. With his fingers rooted on her hip, she stayed curled up against him.

The air had turned sticky and the sky had begun to rumble by the time Javier looked her in the eyes. “What if we name one after my mom?” Caught off guard, her jaw went slack, and he knew it was because he rarely brought his mom up.

He supposed he was scared too. He’d always neatly boxed away his grief. Every loss in his life was stuffed in the same tiny closet. Now, if he opened it up something else was bound to topple out, and whatever it was – it was going to hurt.

He wished he could talk about her more. It felt like his wife barely knew anything about her. His mom deserved better than to be a silent memory. She deserved recognition.

“Are you thinking María or Dolores?” She asked.

Javier snorted. “Neither.”

His mom didn’t really like her name. María Dolores. She always said it made her sound too old. No one that really knew her ever called her by either.

“I’m thinking Lola. Pops called her Dolly, but to everyone else - she was Lola.”

“Lola,” she repeated, and rubbed her belly. “I like that. Lola Peña. Now, we just need to figure out the second.”

She squeezed his hand, and then; it started to rain.

#javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #javier peña #javier pena fic #javier pena x reader #javier peña x ofc #narcos fanfiction

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apoptoses · 2 months

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it's #WipWednesday plus a lot of people tagged me to do some last line thing? But that's buried in my activity so whatever, I'm gonna kill two birds with one stone here and post some feeding fic.

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The egg custard is too thick to pick up between his fingers so he drags them through it as if it’s whipped cream. Rich, pale yellow dollops that cling to his index finger and that Daniel has to hurry to suck clean before the food falls to the tatami. It sits like a stone in Daniel’s stomach. Makes him war with the desire to ask for a break, fight against the way arousal propels him to lean up when Armand holds his finger just a bit too high. He has to push himself onto his hand and the change in angle makes him groan around Armand’s fingertip. He’s going to have to lie here after this, he thinks. He’s going to wind up beached like a sea creature, too gorged to make his way to the bed. “Would you rather I put you over my shoulder and carry you there?” Armand asks. He swipes a bit of egg custard onto Daniel’s lower lip just to watch his tongue dart out and lick it away. It stirs up a memory in the back of his mind. Spilling on a young man’s face as a youth, the shock and delight at seeing him lick up his release rather than reach for a cloth. The way he’d darted in and licked it from his cock as well. Armand can’t come on his face, but- Daniel’s got a smart remark on the tip of his tongue. The spark of it smothers and dies when Armand plucks a piece of tofu from the miso soup, holds it high and lets the broth run down his forearm. “Well? Are you going to take care of that or let it drip onto the tatami?” Armand asks. Daniel hesitates. He’s so fucking full. Going from egg custard back to salty dashi broth, and then sugary desserts- the idea of it makes his stomach turn, just as much as the idea of licking up the length of Armand’s arm makes blood rush to his prick. If you let it fall to the floor it won’t matter. I’ll make you lick it from there instead. For a moment Daniel is frozen in place. The words rattle around in his head, fill him with desire he doesn't understand. He pushes it down, surges up. Still resting on his right hip he manages to prop himself into an awkward sort of half-push up to get down to Armand’s elbow where the broth threatens to drip to the floor. He licks a wet stripe from his elbow to his wrist, leaves Armand’s skin glistening in his wake. Sucks the dashi from jut of his wrist and leaves them both breathless. Daniel has never been so quick to obey and Armand teeters on the edge of drunk with it. Armand wants him always and forever like this; stomach gurgling, chest flushed. Alive. Daniel’s eyes search his face for approval as he takes the cube of tofu from his fingers, ignores his body’s protestations and swallows it down. His throat goes tight with nerves when Armand withholds his praise. Dessert takes many forms on the table. Little rice cakes, sherberts, more egg custards but with sweet toppings instead of savory. Armand lingers over the decision. He lets Daniel hover there in suspense, blood pounding in his ears as he waits. The bowl of fruit covered in sugar syrup. That will do. “I wonder if I told you that the only way I’d allow you to orgasm is if you eat all of this,” Armand says, casting a sidelong glance at Daniel’s lap where the fabric of the robe is tented awkwardly. “Would you choose comfort or release?”

#wipwednesday #armand/daniel #apoptoses fic #i gotta get back to this one i'm SO CLOSE to the end

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mongoose-writes · 2 months

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Dinluke AU excerpt: They meet on Tatooine and reunite years later.

I will know you forever. That's the way Mandalorians say I love you. Din had learned the phrase somewhere between learning how to ask about the weather and how to curse out your enemy, but the gravity of the phrase never really hit him, so painfully cliche. It wasn’t until that time so long ago, when he had been teaching Luke small morsels of Mando’a that the words began to carry weight. Luke had turned to smile at him, preoccupied with tracing mindless patterns on Din’s palm, and commented, “it’s kind of an odd way to say ‘I love you’, but it makes so much sense, doesn’t it?”

It does.

Din knows Luke. Din recognises him in the warmth of the twin suns, in the taste of blue milk custard on one’s tongue, in every handful of earth Luke has ever touched. And he knows that when he dies, the very air that once flowed through his lungs will know his love for this stupid, magnificent man and linger far longer than he could ever comprehend. As long as the universe knows itself, Din will know Luke – long after they turn old and grey with tired bones, and long after their bodies have decayed to ash and stardust.

And perhaps Luke is a little different now; less boisterous, sipping tea instead of chugging caf, but he still drums his fingers on ceramic mugs the same way he always had as a farm boy on Tatooine, so does it really matter? In all the ways Luke has changed, there are as many parts of him that are far too familiar as well, and Din has no willingness to be a hypocrite because he is certain that he too has changed over the years since they last met.

But isn’t that what love is? To look at somebody who has evolved, who carries so little remnants of the person you knew them to be; like fading ink on yellowing paper, and to say, yes. I know you. And I will always know you. Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum. I will know you forever.

#dinluke #din djarin #luke skywalker #excerpts from abandoned stories #i really liked this one but didn't have the motivation to finish it sadly

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laundrybiscuits · 2 years

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(Hanahaki AU tag : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4)

Sometimes Eddie thinks stories are alive, somehow. Not in a gateway-to-a-magical-world sense; more like kudzu. Invasive, demanding, immortal. You think you’ve cut them to pieces and salted the earth, but they come back when you’re least expecting them, smothering any bullshit ideas about individuality or making your own way.

Like the story about the Munson boy: bad news, good-for-nothing, stealing and dealing, always in hot water with the law. Eddie’d tried like hell to fight that one, but it just came for him twice as hard. He clings to all the ways he’s not like his old man, but he’s still so shit-scared that when push comes to shove, the ways they’re different don’t matter as much as they ways they’re the same. That story’s got him by the throat.

And now the story about the other Munson boy, the quiet one: born wrong, they said. Wrong enough that they had to cut it out of him.

Eddie loves Wayne, but he’s never wanted to end up like him. Eddie had foolishly—foolishly!—thought that maybe there could be something different, like maybe his life could grow in bright new ways up and out, stretching sunwards. Instead, there’s the mile-a-minute strangling vines, overtaking him and smothering out any hope of light.

It’s like those older stories, the ones about prophecies, right? Eddie used to love those when he was a kid. He’d been obsessed with the library’s battered copy of D’Aulaires’ Book of Greek Myths, checking it out again and again just to pore over the colorful illustrations of golden fleeces and golden apples and children born from eggs. Characters like Oedipus who tried to outrun their destiny could never really win. That’s a story to warn you about stories, for sure. It lays everything out: the futility of trying to run, and the way you’re going to try anyway.

So he should’ve known better, that’s all. Nothing ever really changes for the Munsons; those kudzu stories always come to drag them back into their place.

———

They run across an old-fashioned frozen custard place outside of Milwaukee, all neon and aluminum siding and servers in little paper hats. Steve screws his whole face up into a grimace. “Do we have to? I’m getting flashbacks to when me and Robin worked at Scoops Ahoy.”

“You what? Did I know this about you? Wait, did you wear—”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Munson. That uniform is the worst thing that ever happened to me.”

It might be the worst thing that’s ever happened to Eddie, jesus. He can’t stop picturing it. Damn his vivid imagination and active fantasy life.

“Well, Harrington, I have the overwhelming need to put some frozen custard in my face immediately, so you’re just gonna have to deal with the trauma.”

Steve gets a frozen custard too, despite all his complaining, and they sit in the back of the van to eat. It’s a pretty day out, and the place is humming. Lots of families around.

“So do you still have that uniform?” Eddie’s a fucking masochist for asking, but he can’t help it.

“Kind of? It’s…wait, did anyone tell you about Starcourt and the Russians?”

“Uh.” Eddie blinks at him. “Starting to think I’ve been left out of a few loops, here.”

It’s a good story. Steve’s not a very good storyteller, he keeps going on tangents and repeating himself, but Eddie likes listening to him anyway. It’s nice to see him waving his hands around, clearly forgetting that he’s still holding a mostly-eaten tub of custard, and telling an objectively absolutely buck-wild tale. Eddie only has to hide a coughing fit once, and he manages to drop the gross ball of brown-and-yellow plant matter under the van without Steve seeing. It’s a pretty decent way to spend an afternoon.

When Steve’s done, Eddie whistles long and low. “Steve fuckin’ Harrington. At this point, I don’t think anything you can tell me is gonna be surprising anymore. Like, if you said you’d traveled back in time to kill JFK? I’d be like sure, sounds about right, bet you had a pretty good reason for doing that.”

Steve snorts. “I think you know everything about me now, dude. All the important stuff, anyway.” He slides a look over at Eddie, suddenly weighty and serious in the way he gets sometimes. “I know there’s stuff you’re—stuff you don’t want to tell me. Part of the whole, uh, Eddie Munson thing, right? But I think—I hope I know you too. Who you are. Even if I don’t know all your stories yet.”

Eddie draws his knees up and rests his folded elbows on them, letting his hair fall forward to shield his face a little. It feels like there are so many important things that he’s trying to carry around under his skin, too many for any one person to hold, and one of these days it’s all gonna come spilling out, infinite and messy, raw and inconvenient, damning.

“Yeah,” he says. “I guess maybe you do know me enough.”

#okay here's the thing! I decided that the last segment in this series was a little abrupt.#so the first part of this flows a little weird bc it's going to be interwoven with the last bit of the previous snippet when it's up on AO3 #which might need to be soon just so I can get like. a canonical version set.#this is the downside of posting immediately after I finish writing a thing #y'all are getting front-row seats to my Process which involves a lot of backtracking #hanahaki au #steddie

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shortcake-incorrect-quotes · 11 months

Note

Custard: STRAWBERRY! Strawberry Shortcake: What's wrong Custard?! Custard: We've got a BIG problem with Peppermint Fizz it's bad, bad, VERY BAD! Strawberry Shortcake: Custard please calm down! You know that we shouldn't overreact to things because that will only make matters worse. I'm sure whatever is going on we can sort out together! Purple Pieman: Funny you should mention that. It's a code red. Strawberry Shortcake: OH MY GOD CODE RED! EVERYONE HIDE! *Panic ensues from Strawberryland-* Strawberry Shortcake (Interview???): We've created a colour-coded alert system to track Peppermint's moods. Green, she's happy and calm but we've rarely been at green. Yellow, she's in tears. Orange, I'M in tears... But with a code red, if she locks eyes with you, it's already too late!

The fact that Pieman knows too 😭

#incorrect quote account #meme account #incorrect quotes #incorrect quote #meme #peppermint fizz #the peculiar purple pieman of porcupine peak #purple pieman #custard the cat #strawberry shortcake #strawberry shortcake incorrect quotes #strawberry shortcake 2007 #strawberry shortcake 2003 #strawberry shortcake characters #strawberry shortcake account #submission

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rotcivnasrabb · 11 months

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THE BEATLES ~ I AM THE WALRUS

I am he as you are he as you are me

And we are all together

See how they run like pigs from a gun

See how they fly

I'm crying

Sitting on a corn flake

Waiting for the van to come

Corporation T-shirt, stupid bloody Tuesday

Man you've been a naughty boy

You let your face grow long

I am the egg man

They are the egg men

I am the walrus

Goo goo g'joob

Mister City policeman sitting

Pretty little policemen in a row

See how they fly like Lucy in the sky, see how they run

I'm crying, I'm crying

Yellow matter custard

Dripping from a dead dog's eye

Crabalocker fishwife, pornographic priestess

Boy, you've been a naughty girl, you let your knickers down

I am the egg man

They are the egg men

I am the walrus

Goo goo g'joob

Sitting in an English garden

Waiting for the sun

If the sun don't come you get a tan

From standing in the English rain

I am the egg man (now good sir)

They are the egg men (a poor man, made tame to fortune's blows)

I am the walrus

Goo goo g'joob, goo goo goo g'joob (good pity)

Expert, texpert choking smokers

Don't you think the joker laughs at you (ho ho ho, hee hee hee, hah hah hah)

See how they smile like pigs in a sty, see how they snide

I'm crying

Semolina Pilchard

Climbing up the Eiffel tower

Elementary penguin singing Hare Krishna

Man, you should have seen them kicking Edgar Allen Poe

I am the egg man

They are the egg men

I am the walrus

Goo goo g'joob, goo goo goo g'joob

Goo goo g'joob, goo goo goo g'joob, goo

Joob, joob, jooba

Jooba, jooba, jooba

Joob, jooba

Umpa, umpa, stick it up your jumper (jooba, jooba)

Umpa, umpa, stick it up your jumper